Madame Bovary - Page 156/262

The chemist, at the tumult which broke out in the house ran thither. The

table with all the plates was upset; sauce, meat, knives, the salt, and

cruet-stand were strewn over the room; Charles was calling for help;

Berthe, scared, was crying; and Felicite, whose hands trembled, was

unlacing her mistress, whose whole body shivered convulsively.

"I'll run to my laboratory for some aromatic vinegar," said the

druggist.

Then as she opened her eyes on smelling the bottle-"I was sure of it," he remarked; "that would wake any dead person for

you!"

"Speak to us," said Charles; "collect yourself; it is your Charles, who

loves you. Do you know me? See! here is your little girl! Oh, kiss her!"

The child stretched out her arms to her mother to cling to her neck. But

turning away her head, Emma said in a broken voice "No, no! no one!"

She fainted again. They carried her to her bed. She lay there stretched

at full length, her lips apart, her eyelids closed, her hands open,

motionless, and white as a waxen image. Two streams of tears flowed from

her eyes and fell slowly upon the pillow.

Charles, standing up, was at the back of the alcove, and the chemist,

near him, maintained that meditative silence that is becoming on the

serious occasions of life.

"Do not be uneasy," he said, touching his elbow; "I think the paroxysm

is past."

"Yes, she is resting a little now," answered Charles, watching her

sleep. "Poor girl! poor girl! She had gone off now!"

Then Homais asked how the accident had come about. Charles answered that

she had been taken ill suddenly while she was eating some apricots.

"Extraordinary!" continued the chemist. "But it might be that the

apricots had brought on the syncope. Some natures are so sensitive to

certain smells; and it would even be a very fine question to study both

in its pathological and physiological relation. The priests know the

importance of it, they who have introduced aromatics into all their

ceremonies. It is to stupefy the senses and to bring on ecstasies--a

thing, moreover, very easy in persons of the weaker sex, who are more

delicate than the other. Some are cited who faint at the smell of burnt

hartshorn, of new bread--"

"Take care; you'll wake her!" said Bovary in a low voice.

"And not only," the druggist went on, "are human beings subject to such

anomalies, but animals also. Thus you are not ignorant of the singularly

aphrodisiac effect produced by the Nepeta cataria, vulgarly called

catmint, on the feline race; and, on the other hand, to quote an example

whose authenticity I can answer for. Bridaux (one of my old comrades, at

present established in the Rue Malpalu) possesses a dog that falls into

convulsions as soon as you hold out a snuff-box to him. He often even

makes the experiment before his friends at his summer-house at Guillaume

Wood. Would anyone believe that a simple sternutation could produce such

ravages on a quadrupedal organism? It is extremely curious, is it not?"