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- Гюстав Флобер
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- Госпожа Бовари
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"
Bravo
!
"
said
the
chemist
.
"
Now
just
send
your
daughters
to
confess
to
fellows
which
such
a
temperament
!
I
,
if
I
were
the
Government
,
I
'd
have
the
priests
bled
once
a
month
.
Yes
,
Madame
Lefrancois
,
every
month
--
a
good
phlebotomy
,
in
the
interests
of
the
police
and
morals
.
"
"
Be
quiet
,
Monsieur
Homais
.
You
are
an
infidel
;
you
've
no
religion
.
"
The
chemist
answered
:
"
I
have
a
religion
,
my
religion
,
and
I
even
have
more
than
all
these
others
with
their
mummeries
and
their
juggling
.
I
adore
God
,
on
the
contrary
.
I
believe
in
the
Supreme
Being
,
in
a
Creator
,
whatever
he
may
be
.
I
care
little
who
has
placed
us
here
below
to
fulfil
our
duties
as
citizens
and
fathers
of
families
;
but
I
do
n't
need
to
go
to
church
to
kiss
silver
plates
,
and
fatten
,
out
of
my
pocket
,
a
lot
of
good-for-nothings
who
live
better
than
we
do
.
For
one
can
know
Him
as
well
in
a
wood
,
in
a
field
,
or
even
contemplating
the
eternal
vault
like
the
ancients
.
My
God
!
Mine
is
the
God
of
Socrates
,
of
Franklin
,
of
Voltaire
,
and
of
Beranger
!
I
am
for
the
profession
of
faith
of
the
'
Savoyard
Vicar
,
'
and
the
immortal
principles
of
'
89
!
And
I
ca
n't
admit
of
an
old
boy
of
a
God
who
takes
walks
in
his
garden
with
a
cane
in
his
hand
,
who
lodges
his
friends
in
the
belly
of
whales
,
dies
uttering
a
cry
,
and
rises
again
at
the
end
of
three
days
;
things
absurd
in
themselves
,
and
completely
opposed
,
moreover
,
to
all
physical
laws
,
which
prove
to
us
,
by
the
way
,
that
priests
have
always
wallowed
in
turpid
ignorance
,
in
which
they
would
fain
engulf
the
people
with
them
.
"
He
ceased
,
looking
round
for
an
audience
,
for
in
his
bubbling
over
the
chemist
had
for
a
moment
fancied
himself
in
the
midst
of
the
town
council
.
But
the
landlady
no
longer
heeded
him
;
she
was
listening
to
a
distant
rolling
.
One
could
distinguish
the
noise
of
a
carriage
mingled
with
the
clattering
of
loose
horseshoes
that
beat
against
the
ground
,
and
at
last
the
"
Hirondelle
"
stopped
at
the
door
.
It
was
a
yellow
box
on
two
large
wheels
,
that
,
reaching
to
the
tilt
,
prevented
travelers
from
seeing
the
road
and
dirtied
their
shoulders
.
The
small
panes
of
the
narrow
windows
rattled
in
their
sashes
when
the
coach
was
closed
,
and
retained
here
and
there
patches
of
mud
amid
the
old
layers
of
dust
,
that
not
even
storms
of
rain
had
altogether
washed
away
.
It
was
drawn
by
three
horses
,
the
first
a
leader
,
and
when
it
came
down-hill
its
bottom
jolted
against
the
ground
.
Some
of
the
inhabitants
of
Yonville
came
out
into
the
square
;
they
all
spoke
at
once
,
asking
for
news
,
for
explanations
,
for
hampers
.
Hivert
did
not
know
whom
to
answer
.
It
was
he
who
did
the
errands
of
the
place
in
town
.
He
went
to
the
shops
and
brought
back
rolls
of
leather
for
the
shoemaker
,
old
iron
for
the
farrier
,
a
barrel
of
herrings
for
his
mistress
,
caps
from
the
milliner
's
,
locks
from
the
hair-dresser
's
and
all
along
the
road
on
his
return
journey
he
distributed
his
parcels
,
which
he
threw
,
standing
upright
on
his
seat
and
shouting
at
the
top
of
his
voice
,
over
the
enclosures
of
the
yards
.
An
accident
had
delayed
him
.
Madame
Bovary
's
greyhound
had
run
across
the
field
.
They
had
whistled
for
him
a
quarter
of
an
hour
;
Hivert
had
even
gone
back
a
mile
and
a
half
expecting
every
moment
to
catch
sight
of
her
;
but
it
had
been
necessary
to
go
on
.
Emma
had
wept
,
grown
angry
;
she
had
accused
Charles
of
this
misfortune
.
Monsieur
Lheureux
,
a
draper
,
who
happened
to
be
in
the
coach
with
her
,
had
tried
to
console
her
by
a
number
of
examples
of
lost
dogs
recognizing
their
masters
at
the
end
of
long
years
.
One
,
he
said
had
been
told
of
,
who
had
come
back
to
Paris
from
Constantinople
