ThensuddenlyhesawherinthegardenatTostes，onabenchagainstthethornhedge，orelseatRoueninthestreets，onthethresholdoftheirhouse，intheyardatBertaux。Heagainheardthelaughterofthehappyboysbeneaththeapple-trees：theroomwasfilledwiththeperfumeofherhair；andherdressrustledinhisarmswithanoiselikeelectricity。Thedresswasstillthesame。
　　Foralongwhilehethusrecalledallhislostjoys，herattitudes，hermovements，thesoundofhervoice。Upononefitofdespairfollowedanother，andevenothers，inexhaustibleasthewavesofanoverflowingsea。
　　Aterriblecuriosityseizedhim。Slowly，withthetipsofbisfingers，palpitating，heliftedherveil。Butheutteredacryofhorrorthatawoketheothertwo。
　　Theydraggedhimdownintothesitting-room。ThenFelicitecameuptosaythathewantedsomeofherhair。
　　“Cutsomeoff，“repliedthedruggist。
　　Andasshedidnotdareto，hehimselfsteppedforward，scissorsinhand。Hetrembledsothathepiercedtheskinofthetempleinseveralplaces。Atlast，stiffeninghimselfagainstemotion，Homaisgavetwoorthreegreatcutsatrandomthatleftwhitepatchesamongstthatbeautifulblackhair。
　　Thechemistandthecureplungedanewintotheiroccupations，notwithoutsleepingfromtimetotime，ofwhichtheyaccusedeachotherreciprocallyateachfreshawakening。ThenMonsieurBournisiensprinkledtheroomwithholywaterandHomaisthrewalittlechlorinewateronthefloor。
　　Felicitehadtakencaretoputonthechestofdrawers，foreachofthem，abottleofbrandy，somecheese，andalargeroll。Andthedruggist，whocouldnotholdoutanylonger，aboutfourinthemorningsighed——
　　“Myword!Ishouldliketotakesomesustenance。“
　　Thepriestdidnotneedanypersuading；hewentouttogoandsaymass，cameback，andthentheyateandhobnobbed，gigglingalittlewithoutknowingwhy，stimulatedbythatvaguegaietythatcomesuponusaftertimesofsadness，andatthelastglassthepriestsaidtothedruggist，asheclappedhimontheshoulder——
　　“Weshallendbyunderstandingoneanother。“
　　Inthepassagedownstairstheymettheundertaker’smen，whowerecomingin。ThenCharlesfortwohourshadtosufferthetortureofhearingthehammerresoundagainstthewood。Nextdaytheyloweredherintoheroakcoffin，thatwasfittedintotheothertwo；butasthebierwastoolarge，theyhadtofillupthegapswiththewoolofamattress。Atlast，whenthethreelidshadbeenplaneddown，nailed，soldered，itwasplacedoutsideinfrontofthedoor；thehousewasthrownopen，andthepeopleofYonvillebegantoflockround。
　　OldRouaultarrived，andfaintedonthePlacewhenhesawtheblackcloth!
　　ChapterTenHehadonlyreceivedthechemist’sletterthirty-sixhoursaftertheevent；and，fromconsiderationforhisfeelings，Homaishadsowordeditthatitwasimpossibletomakeoutwhatitwasallabout。
　　First，theoldfellowhadfallenasifstruckbyapoplexy。Next，heunderstoodthatshewasnotdead，butshemightbe。Atlast，hehadputonhisblouse，takenhishat，fastenedhisspurstohisboots，andsetoutatfullspeed；andthewholeofthewayoldRouault，panting，wastornbyanguish。Onceevenhewasobligedtodismount。Hewasdizzy；heheardvoicesroundabouthim；hefelthimselfgoingmad。
　　Daybroke。Hesawthreeblackhensasleepinatree。Heshuddered，horrifiedatthisomen。ThenhepromisedtheHolyVirginthreechasublesforthechurch，andthathewouldgobarefootedfromthecemeteryatBertauxtothechapelofVassonville。
　　HeenteredMarommeshoutingforthepeopleoftheinn，burstopenthedoorwithathrustofhisshoulder，madeforasackofoats，emptiedabottleofsweetciderintothemanger，andagainmountedhisnag，whosefeetstruckfireasitdashedalong。
　　Hesaidtohimselfthatnodoubttheywouldsaveher；thedoctorswoulddiscoversomeremedysurely。Herememberedallthemiraculouscureshehadbeentoldabout。Thensheappearedtohimdead。Shewasthere；beforehiseyes，lyingonherbackinthemiddleoftheroad。Hereinedup，andthehallucinationdisappeared。
　　AtQuincampoix，togivehimselfheart，hedrankthreecupsofcoffeeoneaftertheother。Hefanciedtheyhadmadeamistakeinthenameinwriting。Helookedfortheletterinhispocket，feltitthere，butdidnotdaretoopenit。
　　Atlasthebegantothinkitwasallajoke；someone’sspite，thejestofsomewag；andbesides，ifsheweredead，onewouldhaveknownit。Butno!Therewasnothingextraordinaryaboutthecountry；theskywasblue，thetreesswayed；aflockofsheeppassed。Hesawthevillage；hewasseencomingbendingforwarduponhishorse，belabouringitwithgreatblows，thegirthsdrippingwithblood。
　　Whenhehadrecoveredconsciousness，hefell，weeping，intoBovary’sarms：“Mygirl!Emma!mychild!tellme——“
　　Theotherreplied，sobbing，“Idon’tknow!Idon’tknow!It’sacurse!“
　　Thedruggistseparatedthem。“Thesehorribledetailsareuseless。
　　Iwilltellthisgentlemanallaboutit。Herearethepeoplecoming。Dignity!Comenow!Philosophy!“
　　Thepoorfellowtriedtoshowhimselfbrave，andrepeatedseveraltimes。“Yes!courage!“
　　“Oh，“criedtheoldman，“soIwillhave，byGod!I’llgoalongo’hertotheend!“
　　Thebellbegantolling。Allwasready；theyhadtostart。Andseatedinastallofthechoir，sidebyside，theysawpassandrepassinfrontofthemcontinuallythethreechantingchoristers。
　　Theserpent-playerwasblowingwithallhismight。MonsieurBournisien，infullvestments，wassinginginashrillvoice。Hebowedbeforethetabernacle，raisinghishands，stretchedouthisarms。Lestiboudoiswentaboutthechurchwithhiswhalebonestick。Thebierstoodnearthelectern，betweenfourrowsofcandles。Charlesfeltinclinedtogetupandputthemout。
　　Yethetriedtostirhimselftoafeelingofdevotion，tothrowhimselfintothehopeofafuturelifeinwhichheshouldseeheragain。Heimaginedtohimselfshehadgoneonalongjourney，faraway，foralongtime。Butwhenhethoughtofherlyingthere，andthatallwasover，thattheywouldlayherintheearth，hewasseizedwithafierce，gloomy，despairfulrage。Attimeshethoughthefeltnothingmore，andheenjoyedthislullinhispain，whilstatthesametimehereproachedhimselfforbeingawretch。
　　Thesharpnoiseofaniron-ferruledstickwasheardonthestones，strikingthematirregularintervals。Itcamefromtheendofthechurch，andstoppedshortattheloweraisles。Amaninacoarsebrownjacketkneltdownpainfully。ItwasHippolyte，thestable-boyatthe“Liond’Or。“Hehadputonhisnewleg。
　　Oneofthechoristerswentroundthenavemakingacollection，andthecopperschinkedoneaftertheotheronthesilverplate。
　　“Oh，makehaste!Iaminpain!“criedBovary，angrilythrowinghimafive-francpiece。Thechurchmanthankedhimwithadeepbow。
　　Theysang，theyknelt，theystoodup；itwasendless!Herememberedthatonce，intheearlytimes，theyhadbeentomasstogether，andtheyhadsatdownontheotherside，ontheright，bythewall。Thebellbeganagain。Therewasagreatmovingofchairs；thebearersslippedtheirthreestavesunderthecoffin，andeveryoneleftthechurch。
　　ThenJustinappearedatthedooroftheshop。Hesuddenlywentinagain，pale，staggering。
　　Peoplewereatthewindowstoseetheprocessionpass。Charlesattheheadwalkederect。Heaffectedabraveair，andsalutedwithanodthosewho，comingoutfromthelanesorfromtheirdoors，stoodamidstthecrowd。
　　Thesixmen，threeoneitherside，walkedslowly，pantingalittle。Thepriests，thechoristers，andthetwochoirboysrecitedtheDeprofundis*，andtheirvoicesechoedoverthefields，risingandfallingwiththeirundulations。Sometimestheydisappearedinthewindingsofthepath；butthegreatsilvercrossrosealwaysbeforethetrees。
　　*PsalmCXXX。
　　Thewomenfollowedinblackcloakswithturned-downhoods；eachofthemcarriedinherhandsalargelightedcandle，andCharlesfelthimselfgrowingweakeratthiscontinualrepetitionofprayersandtorches，beneaththisoppressiveodourofwaxandofcassocks。Afreshbreezewasblowing；theryeandcolzaweresprouting，littledewdropstrembledattheroadsidesandonthehawthornhedges。Allsortsofjoyoussoundsfilledtheair；thejoltingofacartrollingafaroffintheruts，thecrowingofacock，repeatedagainandagain，orthegamblingofafoalrunningawayundertheapple-trees：Thepureskywasfrettedwithrosyclouds；abluishhazeresteduponthecotscoveredwithiris。
　　Charlesashepassedrecognisedeachcourtyard。Herememberedmorningslikethis，when，aftervisitingsomepatient，hecameoutfromoneandreturnedtoher。
　　Theblackclothbestrewnwithwhitebeadsblewupfromtimetotime，layingbarethecoffin。Thetiredbearerswalkedmoreslowly，anditadvancedwithconstantjerks，likeaboatthatpitcheswitheverywave。
　　Theyreachedthecemetery。Themenwentrightdowntoaplaceinthegrasswhereagravewasdug。Theyrangedthemselvesallround；andwhilethepriestspoke，theredsoilthrownupatthesideskeptnoiselesslyslippingdownatthecorners。
　　Thenwhenthefourropeswerearrangedthecoffinwasplaceduponthem。Hewatcheditdescend；itseemeddescendingforever。Atlastathudwasheard；theropescreakedastheyweredrawnup。
　　ThenBournisientookthespadehandedtohimbyLestiboudois；
　　withhislefthandallthetimesprinklingwater，withtherighthevigorouslythrewinalargespadeful；andthewoodofthecoffin，struckbythepebbles，gaveforththatdreadsoundthatseemstousthereverberationofeternity。
　　Theecclesiasticpassedtheholywatersprinklertohisneighbour。ThiswasHomais。Heswungitgravely，thenhandedittoCharles，whosanktohiskneesintheearthandthrewinhandfulsofit，crying，“Adieu!“Hesentherkisses；hedraggedhimselftowardsthegrave，toengulfhimselfwithher。Theyledhimaway，andhesoongrewcalmer，feelingperhaps，liketheothers，avaguesatisfactionthatitwasallover。