Madame Bovary - Page 122/262

She was charming on horseback--upright, with her slender waist, her knee

bent on the mane of her horse, her face somewhat flushed by the fresh

air in the red of the evening.

On entering Yonville she made her horse prance in the road. People

looked at her from the windows.

At dinner her husband thought she looked well, but she pretended not to

hear him when he inquired about her ride, and she remained sitting there

with her elbow at the side of her plate between the two lighted candles.

"Emma!" he said.

"What?"

"Well, I spent the afternoon at Monsieur Alexandre's. He has an old cob,

still very fine, only a little broken-kneed, and that could be bought; I

am sure, for a hundred crowns." He added, "And thinking it might please

you, I have bespoken it--bought it. Have I done right? Do tell me?"

She nodded her head in assent; then a quarter of an hour later-"Are you going out to-night?" she asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing, my dear!"

And as soon as she had got rid of Charles she went and shut herself up

in her room.

At first she felt stunned; she saw the trees, the paths, the ditches,

Rodolphe, and she again felt the pressure of his arm, while the leaves

rustled and the reeds whistled.

But when she saw herself in the glass she wondered at her face. Never

had her eyes been so large, so black, of so profound a depth. Something

subtle about her being transfigured her. She repeated, "I have a lover!

a lover!" delighting at the idea as if a second puberty had come to her.

So at last she was to know those joys of love, that fever of happiness

of which she had despaired! She was entering upon marvels where all

would be passion, ecstasy, delirium. An azure infinity encompassed

her, the heights of sentiment sparkled under her thought, and ordinary

existence appeared only afar off, down below in the shade, through the

interspaces of these heights.

Then she recalled the heroines of the books that she had read, and the

lyric legion of these adulterous women began to sing in her memory with

the voice of sisters that charmed her. She became herself, as it were,

an actual part of these imaginings, and realised the love-dream of her

youth as she saw herself in this type of amorous women whom she had

so envied. Besides, Emma felt a satisfaction of revenge. Had she not

suffered enough? But now she triumphed, and the love so long pent up

burst forth in full joyous bubblings. She tasted it without remorse,

without anxiety, without trouble.