Madame Bovary

Madame Bovary

By Gustave Flaubert

A horizon of realisable whims opened out before Emma. She was prudent enough to lay by a thousand crowns, with which the first three bills were paid when they fell due; but the fourth, by chance, came to the house on a Thursday, and Charles, quite upset, patiently awaited his wife's return for an explanation.

If she had not told him about this bill, it was only to spare him such domestic worries; she sat on his knees, caressed him, cooed to him, gave a long enumeration of all the indispensable things that had been got on credit.

“Really, you must confess, considering the quantity, it isn't too dear.”

Charles, at his wit”s end, soon had recourse to the eternal Lheureux, who swore he would arrange matters if the doctor would sign him two bills, one of which was for seven hundred francs, payable in three months. In order to arrange for this he wrote his mother a pathetic letter. Instead of sending a reply she came herself; and when Emma wanted to know whether he had got anything out of her, “Yes,” he replied; “but she wants to see the account”. The next morning at daybreak Emma ran to Lleureux to beg him to make out another account for not more than a thousand francs, for to show the one for four thousand it would be necessary to say that she had paid two-thirds, and confess, consequently, the sale of the estate – a negotiation admirably carried out by the shopkeeper, and which, in fact, was only actually known later on.

Despite the low price of each article, Madame Bovary senior of course thought the expenditure extravagant.

“Couldn't you do without a carpet? Why have re-covered the armchairs? In my time there was a single armchair in a house, for elderly persons, at any rate it was so at my mother', who was a good woman, I can tell you. Everybody can't be rich! No fortune can hold out against waste! I should be ashamed to coddle myself as you do! And yet I am old, I need looking after. And there! There! Fitting up gowns! Fallals! What! Silk for lining at two francs, when you can get jaconet for ten sous, or even for eight, that would do well enough!

Madame Bovary. Photo by Elena.

Emma, lying on a lounge, replied as quietly as possible - “Ah! Madame, enough! Enough!”

The other went on lecturing her, predicting they would end in the work-house, But it was Bovary's fault. Luckily he had promised to destroy that power of attorney.

“What?” “

“Ah! He swore he would,” went on the good woman.

Emma opened the window, called Charles, and the poor fellow was obliged to confess the promise torn from him by his mother.

Emma disappeared, then came back quickly, and majestically handed her a thick piece of paper.

“Thank you,” said the old woman, And she threw the power of attorney into the fire.

Emma began to laugh, a strident, piercing, continuous laugh; she had an attack of hysterics.

“Oh, my God!” cried Charles. “Ah! You really are wrong! You come here and make scenes with her!”

His mother, shrugging her shoulders, declared it was “all put on.”