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- Госпожа Бовари
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For
two
hundred
francs
a
year
he
managed
to
live
on
the
border
of
the
provinces
of
Caux
and
Picardy
,
in
a
kind
of
place
half
farm
,
half
private
house
;
and
here
,
soured
,
eaten
up
with
regrets
,
cursing
his
luck
,
jealous
of
everyone
,
he
shut
himself
up
at
the
age
of
forty-five
,
sick
of
men
,
he
said
,
and
determined
to
live
at
peace
.
His
wife
had
adored
him
once
on
a
time
;
she
had
bored
him
with
a
thousand
servilities
that
had
only
estranged
him
the
more
.
Lively
once
,
expansive
and
affectionate
,
in
growing
older
she
had
become
(
after
the
fashion
of
wine
that
,
exposed
to
air
,
turns
to
vinegar
)
ill-tempered
,
grumbling
,
irritable
.
She
had
suffered
so
much
without
complaint
at
first
,
until
she
had
seem
him
going
after
all
the
village
drabs
,
and
until
a
score
of
bad
houses
sent
him
back
to
her
at
night
,
weary
,
stinking
drunk
.
Then
her
pride
revolted
.
After
that
she
was
silent
,
burying
her
anger
in
a
dumb
stoicism
that
she
maintained
till
her
death
.
She
was
constantly
going
about
looking
after
business
matters
.
She
called
on
the
lawyers
,
the
president
,
remembered
when
bills
fell
due
,
got
them
renewed
,
and
at
home
ironed
,
sewed
,
washed
,
looked
after
the
workmen
,
paid
the
accounts
,
while
he
,
troubling
himself
about
nothing
,
eternally
besotted
in
sleepy
sulkiness
,
whence
he
only
roused
himself
to
say
disagreeable
things
to
her
,
sat
smoking
by
the
fire
and
spitting
into
the
cinders
.
When
she
had
a
child
,
it
had
to
be
sent
out
to
nurse
.
When
he
came
home
,
the
lad
was
spoilt
as
if
he
were
a
prince
.
His
mother
stuffed
him
with
jam
;
his
father
let
him
run
about
barefoot
,
and
,
playing
the
philosopher
,
even
said
he
might
as
well
go
about
quite
naked
like
the
young
of
animals
.
As
opposed
to
the
maternal
ideas
,
he
had
a
certain
virile
idea
of
childhood
on
which
he
sought
to
mould
his
son
,
wishing
him
to
be
brought
up
hardily
,
like
a
Spartan
,
to
give
him
a
strong
constitution
.
He
sent
him
to
bed
without
any
fire
,
taught
him
to
drink
off
large
draughts
of
rum
and
to
jeer
at
religious
processions
.
But
,
peaceable
by
nature
,
the
lad
answered
only
poorly
to
his
notions
.
His
mother
always
kept
him
near
her
;
she
cut
out
cardboard
for
him
,
told
him
tales
,
entertained
him
with
endless
monologues
full
of
melancholy
gaiety
and
charming
nonsense
.
In
her
life
's
isolation
she
centered
on
the
child
's
head
all
her
shattered
,
broken
little
vanities
.
She
dreamed
of
high
station
;
she
already
saw
him
,
tall
,
handsome
,
clever
,
settled
as
an
engineer
or
in
the
law
.
She
taught
him
to
read
,
and
even
,
on
an
old
piano
,
she
had
taught
him
two
or
three
little
songs
.
But
to
all
this
Monsieur
Bovary
,
caring
little
for
letters
,
said
,
"
It
was
not
worth
while
.
Would
they
ever
have
the
means
to
send
him
to
a
public
school
,
to
buy
him
a
practice
,
or
start
him
in
business
?
Besides
,
with
cheek
a
man
always
gets
on
in
the
world
.
"
Madame
Bovary
bit
her
lips
,
and
the
child
knocked
about
the
village
.
He
went
after
the
labourers
,
drove
away
with
clods
of
earth
the
ravens
that
were
flying
about
.
He
ate
blackberries
along
the
hedges
,
minded
the
geese
with
a
long
switch
,
went
haymaking
during
harvest
,
ran
about
in
the
woods
,
played
hop-scotch
under
the
church
porch
on
rainy
days
,
and
at
great
fetes
begged
the
beadle
to
let
him
toll
the
bells
,
that
he
might
hang
all
his
weight
on
the
long
rope
and
feel
himself
borne
upward
by
it
in
its
swing
.
Meanwhile
he
grew
like
an
oak
;
he
was
strong
on
hand
,
fresh
of
colour
.
When
he
was
twelve
years
old
his
mother
had
her
own
way
;
he
began
lessons
.
The
cure
took
him
in
hand
;
but
the
lessons
were
so
short
and
irregular
that
they
could
not
be
of
much
use
.
They
were
given
at
spare
moments
in
the
sacristy
,
standing
up
,
hurriedly
,
between
a
baptism
and
a
burial
;
or
else
the
cure
,
if
he
had
not
to
go
out
,
sent
for
his
pupil
after
the
Angelus
.
They
went
up
to
his
room
and
settled
down
;
the
flies
and
moths
fluttered
round
the
candle
.
It
was
close
,
the
child
fell
asleep
,
and
the
good
man
,
beginning
to
doze
with
his
hands
on
his
stomach
,
was
soon
snoring
with
his
mouth
wide
open
.
On
other
occasions
,
when
Monsieur
le
Cure
,
on
his
way
back
after
administering
the
viaticum
to
some
sick
person
in
the
neighbourhood
,
caught
sight
of
Charles
playing
about
the
fields
,
he
called
him
,
lectured
him
for
a
quarter
of
an
hour
and
took
advantage
of
the
occasion
to
make
him
conjugate
his
verb
at
the
foot
of
a
tree
.
The
rain
interrupted
them
or
an
acquaintance
passed
.
All
the
same
he
was
always
pleased
with
him
,
and
even
said
the
"
young
man
"
had
a
very
good
memory
.
Charles
could
not
go
on
like
this
.
Madame
Bovary
took
strong
steps
.
Ashamed
,
or
rather
tired
out
,
Monsieur
Bovary
gave
in
without
a
struggle
,
and
they
waited
one
year
longer
,
so
that
the
lad
should
take
his
first
communion
.
Six
months
more
passed
,
and
the
year
after
Charles
was
finally
sent
to
school
at
Rouen
,
where
his
father
took
him
towards
the
end
of
October
,
at
the
time
of
the
St.
Romain
fair
.
