Madame Bovary - Penn State University
Madame Bovary - Penn State University Madame Bovary - Penn State University
Madame Bovary“Oh, dear! my poor, dear lady! you see in consequence of huddled together in it as the current drove them, and spreadhis wounds he has terrible cramps in the chest. He even says themselves upon the limpid water like streaming hair; sometimesat the tip of the reeds or on the leaf of a water-lily anthat cider weakens him.”“Do make haste, Mere Rollet!”insect with fine legs crawled or rested. The sun pierced with a“Well,” the latter continued, making a curtsey, “if it weren’t ray the small blue bubbles of the waves that, breaking, followedeach other; branchless old willows mirrored their greyasking too much,” and she curtsied once more, “if youwould”—and her eyes begged—”a jar of brandy,” she said at backs in the water; beyond, all around, the meadows seemedlast, “and I’d rub your little one’s feet with it; they’re as tender empty. It was the dinner-hour at the farms, and the youngas one’s tongue.”woman and her companion heard nothing as they walked butOnce rid of the nurse, Emma again took Monsieur Leon’s the fall of their steps on the earth of the path, the words theyarm. She walked fast for some time, then more slowly, and lookingstraight in front of her, her eyes rested on the shoulder of the The walls of the gardens with pieces of bottle on their cop-spoke, and the sound of Emma’s dress rustling round her.young man, whose frock-coat had a black-velvety collar. His ing were hot as the glass windows of a conservatory. Wallflowershad sprung up between the bricks, and with the tip ofbrown hair fell over it, straight and carefully arranged. She noticedhis nails which were longer than one wore them at Yonville. her open sunshade Madame Bovary, as she passed, made someIt was one of the clerk’s chief occupations to trim them, and for of their faded flowers crumble into a yellow dust, or a spraythis purpose he kept a special knife in his writing desk. of overhanging honeysuckle and clematis caught in its fringeThey returned to Yonville by the water-side. In the warm and dangled for a moment over the silk.season the bank, wider than at other times, showed to their They were talking of a troupe of Spanish dancers who werefoot the garden walls whence a few steps led to the river. It expected shortly at the Rouen theatre.flowed noiselessly, swift, and cold to the eye; long, thin grasses “Are you going?” she asked.82
Flaubert“If I can,” he answered.Leon returned to his office. His chief was away; he justHad they nothing else to say to one another? Yet their eyes glanced at the briefs, then cut himself a pen, and at last tookwere full of more serious speech, and while they forced themselvesto find trivial phrases, they felt the same languor steal-He went to La Pature at the top of the Argueil hills at theup his hat and went out.ing over them both. It was the whisper of the soul, deep, beginning of the forest; he threw himself upon the groundcontinuous, dominating that of their voices. Surprised with under the pines and watched the sky through his fingers.wonder at this strange sweetness, they did not think of speakingof the sensation or of seeking its cause. Coming joys, like He thought he was to be pitied for living in this village,“How bored I am!” he said to himself, “how bored I am!”tropical shores, throw over the immensity before them their with Homais for a friend and Monsieru Guillaumin for master.The latter, entirely absorbed by his business, wearing gold-inborn softness, an odorous wind, and we are lulled by thisintoxication without a thought of the horizon that we do not rimmed spectacles and red whiskers over a white cravat, understoodnothing of mental refinements, although he affectedeven know.In one place the ground had been trodden down by the a stiff English manner, which in the beginning had impressedcattle; they had to step on large green stones put here and the clerk.there in the mud.As to the chemist’s spouse, she was the best wife inShe often stopped a moment to look where to place her Normandy, gentle as a sheep, loving her children, her father,foot, and tottering on a stone that shook, her arms outspread, her mother, her cousins, weeping for other’s woes, letting everythinggo in her household, and detesting corsets; but soher form bent forward with a look of indecision, she wouldlaugh, afraid of falling into the puddles of water.slow of movement, such a bore to listen to, so common inWhen they arrived in front of her garden, Madame Bovary appearance, and of such restricted conversation, that althoughopened the little gate, ran up the steps and disappeared. she was thirty, he only twenty, although they slept in rooms83
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- Page 51 and 52: FlaubertChapter NineAt night, when
- Page 53 and 54: Flaubertlar temperature? Signs by m
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- Page 67 and 68: Flaubertto confess to fellows which
- Page 69 and 70: FlaubertChapter TwowoAs he was a go
- Page 71 and 72: Flaubert“At any rate, you have so
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- Page 99 and 100: Flaubertous women, I assure you, re
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- Page 107 and 108: FlaubertChapter SevenThey had often
- Page 109 and 110: Flaubertto commit any folly. She ma
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<strong>Madame</strong> <strong>Bovary</strong>“Oh, dear! my poor, dear lady! you see in consequence of huddled together in it as the current drove them, and spreadhis wounds he has terrible cramps in the chest. He even says themselves upon the limpid water like streaming hair; sometimesat the tip of the reeds or on the leaf of a water-lily anthat cider weakens him.”“Do make haste, Mere Rollet!”insect with fine legs crawled or rested. The sun pierced with a“Well,” the latter continued, making a curtsey, “if it weren’t ray the small blue bubbles of the waves that, breaking, followedeach other; branchless old willows mirrored their greyasking too much,” and she curtsied once more, “if youwould”—and her eyes begged—”a jar of brandy,” she said at backs in the water; beyond, all around, the meadows seemedlast, “and I’d rub your little one’s feet with it; they’re as tender empty. It was the dinner-hour at the farms, and the youngas one’s tongue.”woman and her companion heard nothing as they walked butOnce rid of the nurse, Emma again took Monsieur Leon’s the fall of their steps on the earth of the path, the words theyarm. She walked fast for some time, then more slowly, and lookingstraight in front of her, her eyes rested on the shoulder of the The walls of the gardens with pieces of bottle on their cop-spoke, and the sound of Emma’s dress rustling round her.young man, whose frock-coat had a black-velvety collar. His ing were hot as the glass windows of a conservatory. Wallflowershad sprung up between the bricks, and with the tip ofbrown hair fell over it, straight and carefully arranged. She noticedhis nails which were longer than one wore them at Yonville. her open sunshade <strong>Madame</strong> <strong>Bovary</strong>, as she passed, made someIt was one of the clerk’s chief occupations to trim them, and for of their faded flowers crumble into a yellow dust, or a spraythis purpose he kept a special knife in his writing desk. of overhanging honeysuckle and clematis caught in its fringeThey returned to Yonville by the water-side. In the warm and dangled for a moment over the silk.season the bank, wider than at other times, showed to their They were talking of a troupe of Spanish dancers who werefoot the garden walls whence a few steps led to the river. It expected shortly at the Rouen theatre.flowed noiselessly, swift, and cold to the eye; long, thin grasses “Are you going?” she asked.82
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