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- Гюстав Флобер
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- Госпожа Бовари
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- Стр. 101/303
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And
as
he
ended
Rodolphe
suited
the
action
to
the
word
.
He
passed
his
hand
over
his
face
,
like
a
man
seized
with
giddiness
.
Then
he
let
it
fall
on
Emma
's
.
She
took
hers
away
.
"
And
who
would
be
surprised
at
it
,
gentlemen
?
He
only
who
is
so
blind
,
so
plunged
(
I
do
not
fear
to
say
it
)
,
so
plunged
in
the
prejudices
of
another
age
as
still
to
misunderstand
the
spirit
of
agricultural
populations
.
Where
,
indeed
,
is
to
be
found
more
patriotism
than
in
the
country
,
greater
devotion
to
the
public
welfare
,
more
intelligence
,
in
a
word
?
And
,
gentlemen
,
I
do
not
mean
that
superficial
intelligence
,
vain
ornament
of
idle
minds
,
but
rather
that
profound
and
balanced
intelligence
that
applies
itself
above
all
else
to
useful
objects
,
thus
contributing
to
the
good
of
all
,
to
the
common
amelioration
and
to
the
support
of
the
state
,
born
of
respect
for
law
and
the
practice
of
duty
--
"
"
Ah
!
again
!
"
said
Rodolphe
.
"
Always
'
duty
.
'
I
am
sick
of
the
word
.
They
are
a
lot
of
old
blockheads
in
flannel
vests
and
of
old
women
with
foot-warmers
and
rosaries
who
constantly
drone
into
our
ears
'
Duty
,
duty
!
'
Ah
!
by
Jove
!
one
's
duty
is
to
feel
what
is
great
,
cherish
the
beautiful
,
and
not
accept
all
the
conventions
of
society
with
the
ignominy
that
it
imposes
upon
us
.
"
"
Yet
--
yet
--
"
objected
Madame
Bovary
.
"
No
,
no
!
Why
cry
out
against
the
passions
?
Are
they
not
the
one
beautiful
thing
on
the
earth
,
the
source
of
heroism
,
of
enthusiasm
,
of
poetry
,
music
,
the
arts
,
of
everything
,
in
a
word
?
"
"
But
one
must
,
"
said
Emma
,
"
to
some
extent
bow
to
the
opinion
of
the
world
and
accept
its
moral
code
.
"
"
Ah
!
but
there
are
two
,
"
he
replied
.
"
The
small
,
the
conventional
,
that
of
men
,
that
which
constantly
changes
,
that
brays
out
so
loudly
,
that
makes
such
a
commotion
here
below
,
of
the
earth
earthly
,
like
the
mass
of
imbeciles
you
see
down
there
.
But
the
other
,
the
eternal
,
that
is
about
us
and
above
,
like
the
landscape
that
surrounds
us
,
and
the
blue
heavens
that
give
us
light
.
"
Monsieur
Lieuvain
had
just
wiped
his
mouth
with
a
pocket-handkerchief
.
He
continued
--
"
And
what
should
I
do
here
gentlemen
,
pointing
out
to
you
the
uses
of
agriculture
?
Who
supplies
our
wants
?
Who
provides
our
means
of
subsistence
?
Is
it
not
the
agriculturist
?
The
agriculturist
,
gentlemen
,
who
,
sowing
with
laborious
hand
the
fertile
furrows
of
the
country
,
brings
forth
the
corn
,
which
,
being
ground
,
is
made
into
a
powder
by
means
of
ingenious
machinery
,
comes
out
thence
under
the
name
of
flour
,
and
from
there
,
transported
to
our
cities
,
is
soon
delivered
at
the
baker
's
,
who
makes
it
into
food
for
poor
and
rich
alike
.
