We leave the highroad at La Boissiere and keep straight on to the top of the Leux hill, whence the valley is seen. The river that runs through it makes of it, as it were, two regions with distinct physiognomies — all on the left is pasture land, all of the right arable2. The meadow stretches under a bulge3 of low hills to join at the back with the pasture land of the Bray4 country, while on the eastern side, the plain, gently rising, broadens out, showing as far as eye can follow its blond cornfields. The water, flowing by the grass, divides with a white line the colour of the roads and of the plains, and the country is like a great unfolded mantle5 with a green velvet6 cape7 bordered with a fringe of silver.
Before us, on the verge8 of the horizon, lie the oaks of the forest of Argueil, with the steeps of the Saint-Jean hills scarred from top to bottom with red irregular lines; they are rain tracks, and these brick-tones standing9 out in narrow streaks10 against the grey colour of the mountain are due to the quantity of iron springs that flow beyond in the neighboring country.
Here we are on the confines of Normandy, Picardy, and the Ile-de-France, a bastard11 land whose language is without accent and its landscape is without character. It is there that they make the worst Neufchatel cheeses of all the arrondissement; and, on the other hand, farming is costly12 because so much manure13 is needed to enrich this friable14 soil full of sand and flints.
Up to 1835 there was no practicable road for getting to Yonville, but about this time a cross-road was made which joins that of Abbeville to that of Amiens, and is occasionally used by the Rouen wagoners on their way to Flanders. Yonville-l’Abbaye has remained stationary15 in spite of its “new outlet16.” Instead of improving the soil, they persist in keeping up the pasture lands, however depreciated17 they may be in value, and the lazy borough18, growing away from the plain, has naturally spread riverwards. It is seem from afar sprawling19 along the banks like a cowherd taking a siesta20 by the water-side.
At the foot of the hill beyond the bridge begins a roadway, planted with young aspens, that leads in a straight line to the first houses in the place. These, fenced in by hedges, are in the middle of courtyards full of straggling buildings, wine-presses, cart-sheds and distilleries scattered21 under thick trees, with ladders, poles, or scythes22 hung on to the branches. The thatched roofs, like fur caps drawn23 over eyes, reach down over about a third of the low windows, whose coarse convex glasses have knots in the middle like the bottoms of bottles. Against the plaster wall diagonally crossed by black joists, a meagre pear-tree sometimes leans and the ground-floors have at their door a small swing-gate to keep out the chicks that come pilfering24 crumbs25 of bread steeped in cider on the threshold. But the courtyards grow narrower, the houses closer together, and the fences disappear; a bundle of ferns swings under a window from the end of a broomstick; there is a blacksmith’s forge and then a wheelwright’s, with two or three new carts outside that partly block the way. Then across an open space appears a white house beyond a grass mound26 ornamented27 by a Cupid, his finger on his lips; two brass28 vases are at each end of a flight of steps; scutcheons9 blaze upon the door. It is the notary’s house, and the finest in the place.
The Church is on the other side of the street, twenty paces farther down, at the entrance of the square. The little cemetery29 that surrounds it, closed in by a wall breast high, is so full of graves that the old stones, level with the ground, form a continuous pavement, on which the grass of itself has marked out regular green squares. The church was rebuilt during the last years of the reign30 of Charles X. The wooden roof is beginning to rot from the top, and here and there has black hollows in its blue colour. Over the door, where the organ should be, is a loft31 for the men, with a spiral staircase that reverberates32 under their wooden shoes.
The daylight coming through the plain glass windows falls obliquely33 upon the pews ranged along the walls, which are adorned34 here and there with a straw mat bearing beneath it the words in large letters, “Mr. So-and-so’s pew.” Farther on, at a spot where the building narrows, the confessional forms a pendant to a statuette of the Virgin35, clothed in a satin robe, coifed with a tulle veil sprinkled with silver stars, and with red cheeks, like an idol36 of the Sandwich Islands; and, finally, a copy of the “Holy Family, presented by the Minister of the Interior,” overlooking the high altar, between four candlesticks, closes in the perspective. The choir37 stalls, of deal wood, have been left unpainted.
The market, that is to say, a tiled roof supported by some twenty posts, occupies of itself about half the public square of Yonville. The town hall, constructed “from the designs of a Paris architect,” is a sort of Greek temple that forms the corner next to the chemist’s shop. On the ground-floor are three Ionic columns and on the first floor a semicircular gallery, while the dome38 that crowns it is occupied by a Gallic cock, resting one foot upon the “Charte” and holding in the other the scales of Justice.
But that which most attracts the eye is opposite the Lion d’Or inn, the chemist’s shop of Monsieur Homais. In the evening especially its argand lamp is lit up and the red and green jars that embellish39 his shop-front throw far across the street their two streams of colour; then across them as if in Bengal lights is seen the shadow of the chemist leaning over his desk. His house from top to bottom is placarded with inscriptions40 written in large hand, round hand, printed hand: “Vichy, Seltzer, Barege waters, blood purifiers, Raspail patent medicine, Arabian racahout, Darcet lozenges, Regnault paste, trusses, baths, hygienic chocolate,” etc. And the signboard, which takes up all the breadth of the shop, bears in gold letters, “Homais, Chemist.” Then at the back of the shop, behind the great scales fixed41 to the counter, the word “Laboratory” appears on a scroll42 above a glass door, which about half-way up once more repeats “Homais” in gold letters on a black ground.
Beyond this there is nothing to see at Yonville. The street (the only one) a gunshot in length and flanked by a few shops on either side stops short at the turn of the highroad. If it is left on the right hand and the foot of the Saint-Jean hills followed the cemetery is soon reached.
At the time of the cholera43, in order to enlarge this, a piece of wall was pulled down, and three acres of land by its side purchased; but all the new portion is almost tenantless44; the tombs, as heretofore, continue to crowd together towards the gate. The keeper, who is at once gravedigger and church beadle (thus making a double profit out of the parish corpses), has taken advantage of the unused plot of ground to plant potatoes there. From year to year, however, his small field grows smaller, and when there is an epidemic45, he does not know whether to rejoice at the deaths or regret the burials.
“You live on the dead, Lestiboudois!” the curie at last said to him one day. This grim remark made him reflect; it checked him for some time; but to this day he carries on the cultivation46 of his little tubers, and even maintains stoutly47 that they grow naturally.
Since the events about to be narrated48, nothing in fact has changed at Yonville. The tin tricolour flag still swings at the top of the church-steeple; the two chintz streamers still flutter in the wind from the linen-draper’s; the chemist’s fetuses49, like lumps of white amadou, rot more and more in their turbid50 alcohol, and above the big door of the inn the old golden lion, faded by rain, still shows passers-by its poodle mane.
On the evening when the Bovarys were to arrive at Yonville, Widow Lefrancois, the landlady51 of this inn, was so very busy that she sweated great drops as she moved her saucepans. To-morrow was market-day. The meat had to be cut beforehand, the fowls52 drawn, the soup and coffee made. Moreover, she had the boarders’ meal to see to, and that of the doctor, his wife, and their servant; the billiard-room was echoing with bursts of laughter; three millers53 in a small parlour were calling for brandy; the wood was blazing, the brazen54 pan was hissing55, and on the long kitchen table, amid the quarters of raw mutton, rose piles of plates that rattled56 with the shaking of the block on which spinach57 was being chopped.
From the poultry-yard was heard the screaming of the fowls whom the servant was chasing in order to wring58 their necks.
A man slightly marked with small-pox, in green leather slippers59, and wearing a velvet cap with a gold tassel60, was warming his back at the chimney. His face expressed nothing but self-satisfaction, and he appeared to take life as calmly as the goldfinch suspended over his head in its wicker cage: this was the chemist.
“Artemise!” shouted the landlady, “chop some wood, fill the water bottles, bring some brandy, look sharp! If only I knew what dessert to offer the guests you are expecting! Good heavens! Those furniture-movers are beginning their racket in the billiard-room again; and their van has been left before the front door! The ‘Hirondelle’ might run into it when it draws up. Call Polyte and tell him to put it up. Only think, Monsieur Homais, that since morning they have had about fifteen games, and drunk eight jars of cider! Why, they’ll tear my cloth for me,” she went on, looking at them from a distance, her strainer in her hand.
“That wouldn’t be much of a loss,” replied Monsieur Homais. “You would buy another.”
“Another billiard-table!” exclaimed the widow.
“Since that one is coming to pieces, Madame Lefrancois. I tell you again you are doing yourself harm, much harm! And besides, players now want narrow pockets and heavy cues. Hazards aren’t played now; everything is changed! One must keep pace with the times! Just look at Tellier!”
The hostess reddened with vexation. The chemist went on —
“You may say what you like; his table is better than yours; and if one were to think, for example, of getting up a patriotic62 pool for Poland or the sufferers from the Lyons floods —”
“It isn’t beggars like him that’ll frighten us,” interrupted the landlady, shrugging her fat shoulders. “Come, come, Monsieur Homais; as long as the ‘Lion d’Or’ exists people will come to it. We’ve feathered our nest; while one of these days you’ll find the ‘Cafe Francais’ closed with a big placard on the shutters63. Change my billiard-table!” she went on, speaking to herself, “the table that comes in so handy for folding the washing, and on which, in the hunting season, I have slept six visitors! But that dawdler64, Hivert, doesn’t come!”
“Are you waiting for him for your gentlemen’s dinner?”
“Wait for him! And what about Monsieur Binet? As the clock strikes six you’ll see him come in, for he hasn’t his equal under the sun for punctuality. He must always have his seat in the small parlour. He’d rather die than dine anywhere else. And so squeamish as he is, and so particular about the cider! Not like Monsieur Leon; he sometimes comes at seven, or even half-past, and he doesn’t so much as look at what he eats. Such a nice young man! Never speaks a rough word!”
“Well, you see, there’s a great difference between an educated man and an old carabineer who is now a tax-collector.”
Six o’clock struck. Binet came in.
He wore a blue frock-coat falling in a straight line round his thin body, and his leather cap, with its lappets knotted over the top of his head with string, showed under the turned-up peak a bald forehead, flattened65 by the constant wearing of a helmet. He wore a black cloth waistcoat, a hair collar, grey trousers, and, all the year round, well-blacked boots, that had two parallel swellings due to the sticking out of his big-toes. Not a hair stood out from the regular line of fair whiskers, which, encircling his jaws66, framed, after the fashion of a garden border, his long, wan61 face, whose eyes were small and the nose hooked. Clever at all games of cards, a good hunter, and writing a fine hand, he had at home a lathe67, and amused himself by turning napkin rings, with which he filled up his house, with the jealousy68 of an artist and the egotism of a bourgeois69.
He went to the small parlour, but the three millers had to be got out first, and during the whole time necessary for laying the cloth, Binet remained silent in his place near the stove. Then he shut the door and took off his cap in his usual way.
“It isn’t with saying civil things that he’ll wear out his tongue,” said the chemist, as soon as he was along with the landlady.
“He never talks more,” she replied. “Last week two travelers in the cloth line were here — such clever chaps who told such jokes in the evening, that I fairly cried with laughing; and he stood there like a dab70 fish and never said a word.”
“Yes,” observed the chemist; “no imagination, no sallies, nothing that makes the society-man.”
“Yet they say he has parts,” objected the landlady.
“Parts!” replied Monsieur Homais; “he, parts! In his own line it is possible,” he added in a calmer tone. And he went on —
“Ah! That a merchant, who has large connections, a jurisconsult, a doctor, a chemist, should be thus absent-minded, that the should become whimsical or even peevish71, I can understand; such cases are cited in history. But at least it is because they are thinking of something. Myself, for example, how often has it happened to me to look on the bureau for my pen to write a label, and to find, after all, that I had put it behind my ear!”
Madame Lefrancois just then went to the door to see if the “Hirondelle” were not coming. She started. A man dressed in black suddenly came into the kitchen. By the last gleam of the twilight72 one could see that his face was rubicund73 and his form athletic74.
“What can I do for you, Monsieur le Curie?” asked the landlady, as she reached down from the chimney one of the copper75 candlesticks placed with their candles in a row. “Will you take something? A thimbleful of Cassis10? A glass of wine?”
The priest declined very politely. He had come for his umbrella, that he had forgotten the other day at the Ernemont convent, and after asking Madame Lefrancois to have it sent to him at the presbytery in the evening, he left for the church, from which the Angelus was ringing.
When the chemist no longer heard the noise of his boots along the square, he thought the priest’s behaviour just now very unbecoming. This refusal to take any refreshment76 seemed to him the most odious77 hypocrisy78; all priests tippled on the sly, and were trying to bring back the days of the tithe79.
The landlady took up the defence of her curie.
“Besides, he could double up four men like you over his knee. Last year he helped our people to bring in the straw; he carried as many as six trusses at once, he is so strong.”
“Bravo!” said the chemist. “Now just send your daughters to confess to fellows which such a temperament80! 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 juggling81. I adore God, on the contrary. I believe in the Supreme82 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 don’t need to go to church to kiss silver plates, and fatten83, 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 contemplating84 the eternal vault85 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 immortal86 principles of ‘89! And I can’t admit of an old boy of a God who takes walks in his garden with a cane87 in his hand, who lodges88 his friends in the belly89 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 engulf90 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 heeded91 him; she was listening to a distant rolling. One could distinguish the noise of a carriage mingled92 with the clattering93 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 tilt94, prevented travelers from seeing the road and dirtied their shoulders. The small panes95 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 jolted96 against the ground.
Some of the inhabitants of Yonville came out into the square; they all spoke97 at once, asking for news, for explanations, for hampers98. 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. Another had gone one hundred and fifty miles in a straight line, and swum four rivers; and his own father had possessed99 a poodle, which, after twelve years of absence, had all of a sudden jumped on his back in the street as he was going to dine in town.
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1
trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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arable
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| adj.可耕的，适合种植的 | |
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bulge
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| n.突出，膨胀，激增；vt.突出，膨胀 | |
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bray
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| n.驴叫声, 喇叭声；v.驴叫 | |
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mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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6
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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manure
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| n.粪，肥，肥粒；vt.施肥 | |
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friable
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| adj.易碎的 | |
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stationary
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| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
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outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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depreciated
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| v.贬值，跌价，减价( depreciate的过去式和过去分词 )；贬低，蔑视，轻视 | |
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borough
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| n.享有自治权的市镇；(英)自治市镇 | |
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sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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siesta
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| n.午睡 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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scythes
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| n.（长柄）大镰刀( scythe的名词复数 )v.（长柄）大镰刀( scythe的第三人称单数 ) | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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pilfering
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| v.偷窃（小东西），小偷( pilfer的现在分词 )；偷窃（一般指小偷小摸） | |
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crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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reverberates
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| 回响，回荡( reverberate的第三人称单数 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
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obliquely
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| adv.斜； 倾斜； 间接； 不光明正大 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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embellish
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| v.装饰，布置；给…添加细节，润饰 | |
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inscriptions
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| （作者）题词( inscription的名词复数 )； 献词； 碑文； 证劵持有人的登记 | |
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41
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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42
scroll
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| n.卷轴，纸卷；(石刻上的)漩涡 | |
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43
cholera
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| n.霍乱 | |
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44
tenantless
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| adj.无人租赁的，无人居住的 | |
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epidemic
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| n.流行病；盛行；adj.流行性的，流传极广的 | |
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46
cultivation
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| n.耕作，培养，栽培（法），养成 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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48
narrated
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| v.故事( narrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
fetuses
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| n.胎，胎儿( fetus的名词复数 ) | |
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50
turbid
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| adj.混浊的，泥水的，浓的 | |
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51
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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52
fowls
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| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
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millers
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| n.（尤指面粉厂的）厂主( miller的名词复数 )；磨房主；碾磨工；铣工 | |
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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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spinach
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| n.菠菜 | |
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wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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59
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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tassel
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| n.流苏，穗；v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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dawdler
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| n.游手好闲的人，懒人 | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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lathe
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| n.车床，陶器，镟床 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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bourgeois
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| adj./n.追求物质享受的(人)；中产阶级分子 | |
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dab
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| v.轻触，轻拍，轻涂；n.(颜料等的)轻涂 | |
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peevish
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| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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rubicund
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| adj.(脸色)红润的 | |
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athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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79
tithe
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| n.十分之一税；v.课什一税，缴什一税 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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81
juggling
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| n. 欺骗, 杂耍(=jugglery) adj. 欺骗的, 欺诈的 动词juggle的现在分词 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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fatten
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| v.使肥，变肥 | |
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84
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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lodges
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| v.存放( lodge的第三人称单数 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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engulf
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| vt.吞没，吞食 | |
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heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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tilt
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| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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jolted
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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98
hampers
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的第三人称单数 ) | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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