AtlastEmmarememberedthatatthechateauofVaubyessardshehadheardtheMarchionesscallayoungladyBerthe;fromthatmomentthisnamewaschosen;andasoldRouaultcouldnotcome,MonsieurHomaiswasrequestedtostandgodfather。Hisgiftswereallproductsfromhisestablishment,towit:sixboxesofjujubes,awholejarofracahout,threecakesofmarshmallowpaste,andsixsticksofsugar-candyintothebargainthathehadcomeacrossinacupboard。Ontheeveningoftheceremonytherewasagranddinner;thecurewaspresent;therewasmuchexcitement。MonsieurHomaistowardsliqueur-timebegansinging“LeDieudesbonnesgens。“MonsieurLeonsangabarcarolle,andMadameBovary,senior,whowasgodmother,aromanceofthetimeoftheEmpire;finally,M。Bovary,senior,insistedonhavingthechildbroughtdown,andbeganbaptizingitwithaglassofchampagnethathepouredoveritshead。ThismockeryofthefirstofthesacramentsmadetheAbbeBournisienangry;oldBovaryrepliedbyaquotationfrom“LaGuerredesDieux“;thecurewantedtoleave;theladiesimplored,Homaisinterfered;andtheysucceededinmakingthepriestsitdownagain,andhequietlywentonwiththehalf-finishedcoffeeinhissaucer。
MonsieurBovary,senior,stayedatYonvilleamonth,dazzlingthenativebyasuperbpoliceman’scapwithsilvertasselsthatheworeinthemorningwhenhesmokedhispipeinthesquare。Beingalsointhehabitofdrinkingagooddealofbrandy,heoftensenttheservanttotheLiond’Ortobuyhimabottle,whichwasputdowntohisson’saccount,andtoperfumehishandkerchiefsheuseduphisdaughter-in-law’swholesupplyofeau-de-cologne。
Thelatterdidnotatalldislikehiscompany。Hehadknockedabouttheworld,hetalkedaboutBerlin,Vienna,andStrasbourg,ofhissoldiertimes,ofthemistresseshehadhad,thegrandluncheonsofwhichhehadpartaken;thenhewasamiable,andsometimeseven,eitheronthestairs,orinthegarden,wouldseizeholdofherwaist,crying,“Charles,lookoutforyourself。“
ThenMadameBovary,senior,becamealarmedforherson’shappiness,andfearingthatherhusbandmightinthelong-runhaveanimmoralinfluenceupontheideasoftheyoungwoman,tookcaretohurrytheirdeparture。Perhapsshehadmoreseriousreasonsforuneasiness。MonsieurBovarywasnotthemantorespectanything。
OnedayEmmawassuddenlyseizedwiththedesiretoseeherlittlegirl,whohadbeenputtonursewiththecarpenter’swife,and,withoutlookingatthecalendartoseewhetherthesixweeksoftheVirginwereyetpassed,shesetoutfortheRollets’
house,situatedattheextremeendofthevillage,betweenthehighroadandthefields。
Itwasmid-day,theshuttersofthehouseswereclosedandtheslateroofsthatglitteredbeneaththefiercelightoftheblueskyseemedtostrikesparksfromthecrestofthegables。Aheavywindwasblowing;Emmafeltweakasshewalked;thestonesofthepavementhurther;shewasdoubtfulwhethershewouldnotgohomeagain,orgoinsomewheretorest。
AtthismomentMonsieurLeoncameoutfromaneighbouringdoorwithabundleofpapersunderhisarm。Hecametogreether,andstoodintheshadeinfrontoftheLheureux’sshopundertheprojectinggreyawning。
MadameBovarysaidshewasgoingtoseeherbaby,butthatshewasbeginningtogrowtired。
“If——“saidLeon,notdaringtogoon。
“Haveyouanybusinesstoattendto?“sheasked。
Andontheclerk’sanswer,shebeggedhimtoaccompanyher。ThatsameeveningthiswasknowninYonville,andMadameTuvache,themayor’swife,declaredinthepresenceofherservantthat“MadameBovarywascompromisingherself。“
Togettothenurse’sitwasnecessarytoturntotheleftonleavingthestreet,asifmakingforthecemetery,andtofollowbetweenlittlehousesandyardsasmallpathborderedwithprivethedges。Theywereinbloom,andsowerethespeedwells,eglantines,thistles,andthesweetbriarthatsprangupfromthethickets。Throughopeningsinthehedgesonecouldseeintothehuts,somepigsonadung-heap,ortetheredcowsrubbingtheirhornsagainstthetrunkoftrees。Thetwo,sidebysidewalkedslowly,sheleaninguponhim,andherestraininghispace,whichheregulatedbyhers;infrontofthemaswarmofmidgesfluttered,buzzinginthewarmair。
Therecognizedthehousebyanoldwalnut-treewhichshadedit。
Lowandcoveredwithbrowntiles,therehungoutsideit,beneaththedormer-windowofthegarret,astringofonions。Faggotsuprightagainstathornfencesurroundedabedoflettuce,afewsquarefeetoflavender,andsweetpeasstungonsticks。Dirtywaterwasrunninghereandthereonthegrass,andallroundwereseveralindefiniterags,knittedstockings,aredcalicojacket,andalargesheetofcoarselinenspreadoverthehedge。Atthenoiseofthegatethenurseappearedwithababyshewassucklingononearm。Withherotherhandshewaspullingalongapoorpunylittlefellow,hisfacecoveredwithscrofula,thesonofaRouenhosier,whomhisparents,tootakenupwiththeirbusiness,leftinthecountry。
“Goin,“shesaid;“yourlittleoneisthereasleep。“
Theroomontheground-floor,theonlyoneinthedwelling,hadatitsfartherend,againstthewall,alargebedwithoutcurtains,whileakneading-troughtookupthesidebythewindow,onepaneofwhichwasmendedwithapieceofbluepaper。Inthecornerbehindthedoor,shininghob-nailedshoesstoodinarowundertheslabofthewashstand,nearabottleofoilwithafeatherstuckinitsmouth;aMatthieuLaensberglayonthedustymantelpieceamidgunflints,candle-ends,andbitsofamadou。
Finally,thelastluxuryintheapartmentwasa“Fame“blowinghertrumpets,apicturecutout,nodoubt,fromsomeperfumer’sprospectusandnailedtothewallwithsixwoodenshoe-pegs。
Emma’schildwasasleepinawicker-cradle。Shetookitupinthewrappingthatenvelopeditandbegansingingsoftlyassherockedherselftoandfro。
Leonwalkedupanddowntheroom;itseemedstrangetohimtoseethisbeautifulwomaninhernankeendressinthemidstofallthispoverty。MadamBovaryreddened;heturnedaway,thinkingperhapstherehadbeenanimpertinentlookinhiseyes。Thensheputbackthelittlegirl,whohadjustbeensickoverhercollar。
Thenurseatoncecametodryher,protestingthatitwouldn’tshow。
“Shegivesmeotherdoses,“shesaid:“Iamalwaysa-washingofher。IfyouwouldhavethegoodnesstoorderCamus,thegrocer,toletmehavealittlesoap,itwouldreallybemoreconvenientforyou,asIneedn’ttroubleyouthen。“
“Verywell!verywell!“saidEmma。“Goodmorning,MadameRollet,“
andshewentout,wipinghershoesatthedoor。
Thegoodwomanaccompaniedhertotheendofthegarden,talkingallthetimeofthetroubleshehadgettingupofnights。
“I’mthatwornoutsometimesasIdropasleeponmychair。I’msureyoumightatleastgivemejustapoundofgroundcoffee;
that’dlastmeamonth,andI’dtakeitofamorningwithsomemilk。“
Afterhavingsubmittedtoherthanks,MadamBovaryleft。Shehadgonealittlewaydownthepathwhen,atthesoundofwoodenshoes,sheturnedround。Itwasthenurse。
“Whatisit?“
Thenthepeasantwoman,takingherasidebehindanelmtree,begantalkingtoherofherhusband,whowithhistradeandsixfrancsayearthatthecaptain——
“Oh,bequick!“saidEmma。
“Well,“thenursewenton,heavingsighsbetweeneachword,“I’mafraidhe’llbeputoutseeingmehavecoffeealong,youknowmen——“
“Butyouaretohavesome,“Emmarepeated;“Iwillgiveyousome。
Youbotherme!“
“Oh,dear!mypoor,dearlady!youseeinconsequenceofhiswoundshehasterriblecrampsinthechest。Heevensaysthatciderweakenshim。“
“Domakehaste,MereRollet!“
“Well,“thelattercontinued,makingacurtsey,“ifitweren’taskingtoomuch,“andshecurtsiedoncemore,“ifyouwould“——andhereyesbegged——“ajarofbrandy,“shesaidatlast,“andI’drubyourlittleone’sfeetwithit;they’reastenderasone’stongue。“
Onceridofthenurse,EmmaagaintookMonsieurLeon’sarm。Shewalkedfastforsometime,thenmoreslowly,andlookingstraightinfrontofher,hereyesrestedontheshoulderoftheyoungman,whosefrock-coathadablack-velvetycollar。Hisbrownhairfelloverit,straightandcarefullyarranged。ShenoticedhisnailswhichwerelongerthanoneworethematYonville。Itwasoneoftheclerk’schiefoccupationstotrimthem,andforthispurposehekeptaspecialknifeinhiswritingdesk。
TheyreturnedtoYonvillebythewater-side。Inthewarmseasonthebank,widerthanatothertimes,showedtotheirfootthegardenwallswhenceafewstepsledtotheriver。Itflowednoiselessly,swift,andcoldtotheeye;long,thingrasseshuddledtogetherinitasthecurrentdrovethem,andspreadthemselvesuponthelimpidwaterlikestreaminghair;sometimesatthetipofthereedsorontheleafofawater-lilyaninsectwithfinelegscrawledorrested。Thesunpiercedwitharaythesmallbluebubblesofthewavesthat,breaking,followedeachother;branchlessoldwillowsmirroredtheirgreybacksinthewater;beyond,allaround,themeadowsseemedempty。Itwasthedinner-houratthefarms,andtheyoungwomanandhercompanionheardnothingastheywalkedbutthefalloftheirstepsontheearthofthepath,thewordstheyspoke,andthesoundofEmma’sdressrustlingroundher。
Thewallsofthegardenswithpiecesofbottleontheircopingwerehotastheglasswindowsofaconservatory。Wallflowershadsprungupbetweenthebricks,andwiththetipofheropensunshadeMadameBovary,asshepassed,madesomeoftheirfadedflowerscrumbleintoayellowdust,orasprayofoverhanginghoneysuckleandclematiscaughtinitsfringeanddangledforamomentoverthesilk。
TheyweretalkingofatroupeofSpanishdancerswhowereexpectedshortlyattheRouentheatre。
“Areyougoing?“sheasked。
“IfIcan,“heanswered。
第16章