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- Гюстав Флобер
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- Госпожа Бовари
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- Стр. 164/303
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Then
he
foresaw
such
worries
that
he
quickly
dismissed
so
disagreeable
a
subject
of
meditation
from
his
mind
.
He
reproached
himself
with
forgetting
Emma
,
as
if
,
all
his
thoughts
belonging
to
this
woman
,
it
was
robbing
her
of
something
not
to
be
constantly
thinking
of
her
.
The
winter
was
severe
,
Madame
Bovary
's
convalescence
slow
.
When
it
was
fine
they
wheeled
her
arm-chair
to
the
window
that
overlooked
the
square
,
for
she
now
had
an
antipathy
to
the
garden
,
and
the
blinds
on
that
side
were
always
down
.
She
wished
the
horse
to
be
sold
;
what
she
formerly
liked
now
displeased
her
.
All
her
ideas
seemed
to
be
limited
to
the
care
of
herself
.
She
stayed
in
bed
taking
little
meals
,
rang
for
the
servant
to
inquire
about
her
gruel
or
to
chat
with
her
.
The
snow
on
the
market-roof
threw
a
white
,
still
light
into
the
room
;
then
the
rain
began
to
fall
;
and
Emma
waited
daily
with
a
mind
full
of
eagerness
for
the
inevitable
return
of
some
trifling
events
which
nevertheless
had
no
relation
to
her
.
The
most
important
was
the
arrival
of
the
"
Hirondelle
"
in
the
evening
.
Then
the
landlady
shouted
out
,
and
other
voices
answered
,
while
Hippolyte
's
lantern
,
as
he
fetched
the
boxes
from
the
boot
,
was
like
a
star
in
the
darkness
.
At
mid-day
Charles
came
in
;
then
he
went
out
again
;
next
she
took
some
beef-tea
,
and
towards
five
o'clock
,
as
the
day
drew
in
,
the
children
coming
back
from
school
,
dragging
their
wooden
shoes
along
the
pavement
,
knocked
the
clapper
of
the
shutters
with
their
rulers
one
after
the
other
.
It
was
at
this
hour
that
Monsieur
Bournisien
came
to
see
her
.
He
inquired
after
her
health
,
gave
her
news
,
exhorted
her
to
religion
,
in
a
coaxing
little
prattle
that
was
not
without
its
charm
.
The
mere
thought
of
his
cassock
comforted
her
.
One
day
,
when
at
the
height
of
her
illness
,
she
had
thought
herself
dying
,
and
had
asked
for
the
communion
;
and
,
while
they
were
making
the
preparations
in
her
room
for
the
sacrament
,
while
they
were
turning
the
night
table
covered
with
syrups
into
an
altar
,
and
while
Felicite
was
strewing
dahlia
flowers
on
the
floor
,
Emma
felt
some
power
passing
over
her
that
freed
her
from
her
pains
,
from
all
perception
,
from
all
feeling
.
Her
body
,
relieved
,
no
longer
thought
;
another
life
was
beginning
;
it
seemed
to
her
that
her
being
,
mounting
toward
God
,
would
be
annihilated
in
that
love
like
a
burning
incense
that
melts
into
vapour
.
The
bed-clothes
were
sprinkled
with
holy
water
,
the
priest
drew
from
the
holy
pyx
the
white
wafer
;
and
it
was
fainting
with
a
celestial
joy
that
she
put
out
her
lips
to
accept
the
body
of
the
Saviour
presented
to
her
.
The
curtains
of
the
alcove
floated
gently
round
her
like
clouds
,
and
the
rays
of
the
two
tapers
burning
on
the
night-table
seemed
to
shine
like
dazzling
halos
.
Then
she
let
her
head
fall
back
,
fancying
she
heard
in
space
the
music
of
seraphic
harps
,
and
perceived
in
an
azure
sky
,
on
a
golden
throne
in
the
midst
of
saints
holding
green
palms
,
God
the
Father
,
resplendent
with
majesty
,
who
with
a
sign
sent
to
earth
angels
with
wings
of
fire
to
carry
her
away
in
their
arms
.
This
splendid
vision
dwelt
in
her
memory
as
the
most
beautiful
thing
that
it
was
possible
to
dream
,
so
that
now
she
strove
to
recall
her
sensation
.
That
still
lasted
,
however
,
but
in
a
less
exclusive
fashion
and
with
a
deeper
sweetness
.
Her
soul
,
tortured
by
pride
,
at
length
found
rest
in
Christian
humility
,
and
,
tasting
the
joy
of
weakness
,
she
saw
within
herself
the
destruction
of
her
will
,
that
must
have
left
a
wide
entrance
for
the
inroads
of
heavenly
grace
.
There
existed
,
then
,
in
the
place
of
happiness
,
still
greater
joys
--
another
love
beyond
all
loves
,
without
pause
and
without
end
,
one
that
would
grow
eternally
!
She
saw
amid
the
illusions
of
her
hope
a
state
of
purity
floating
above
the
earth
mingling
with
heaven
,
to
which
she
aspired
.
She
wanted
to
become
a
saint
.
She
bought
chaplets
and
wore
amulets
;
she
wished
to
have
in
her
room
,
by
the
side
of
her
bed
,
a
reliquary
set
in
emeralds
that
she
might
kiss
it
every
evening
.
The
cure
marvelled
at
this
humour
,
although
Emma
's
religion
,
he
thought
,
might
,
from
its
fervour
,
end
by
touching
on
heresy
,
extravagance
.
But
not
being
much
versed
in
these
matters
,
as
soon
as
they
went
beyond
a
certain
limit
he
wrote
to
Monsieur
Boulard
,
bookseller
to
Monsignor
,
to
send
him
"
something
good
for
a
lady
who
was
very
clever
.
"
The
bookseller
,
with
as
much
indifference
as
if
he
had
been
sending
off
hardware
to
niggers
,
packed
up
,
pellmell
,
everything
that
was
then
the
fashion
in
the
pious
book
trade
.
There
were
little
manuals
in
questions
and
answers
,
pamphlets
of
aggressive
tone
after
the
manner
of
Monsieur
de
Maistre
,
and
certain
novels
in
rose-coloured
bindings
and
with
a
honied
style
,
manufactured
by
troubadour
seminarists
or
penitent
blue-stockings
.
There
were
the
"
Think
of
it
;
the
Man
of
the
World
at
Mary
's
Feet
,
by
Monsieur
de
--
decorated
with
many
Orders
"
;
"
The
Errors
of
Voltaire
,
for
the
Use
of
the
Young
,
"
etc.
.
Madame
Bovary
's
mind
was
not
yet
sufficiently
clear
to
apply
herself
seriously
to
anything
;
moreover
,
she
began
this
reading
in
too
much
hurry
.
She
grew
provoked
at
the
doctrines
of
religion
;
the
arrogance
of
the
polemic
writings
displeased
her
by
their
inveteracy
in
attacking
people
she
did
not
know
;
and
the
secular
stories
,
relieved
with
religion
,
seemed
to
her
written
in
such
ignorance
of
the
world
,
that
they
insensibly
estranged
her
from
the
truths
for
whose
proof
she
was
looking
.
Nevertheless
,
she
persevered
;
and
when
the
volume
slipped
from
her
hands
,
she
fancied
herself
seized
with
the
finest
Catholic
melancholy
that
an
ethereal
soul
could
conceive
.
As
for
the
memory
of
Rodolphe
,
she
had
thrust
it
back
to
the
bottom
of
her
heart
,
and
it
remained
there
more
solemn
and
more
motionless
than
a
king
's
mummy
in
a
catacomb
.
An
exhalation
escaped
from
this
embalmed
love
,
that
,
penetrating
through
everything
,
perfumed
with
tenderness
the
immaculate
atmosphere
in
which
she
longed
to
live
.
