Госпожа Бовари

Chapter 15

           Theycametoseekrelaxationinthefineartsaftertheanxietiesofbusiness;but"business"wasnotforgotten;theystilltalkedcottons,spiritsofwine,orindigo.Theheadsofoldmenweretobeseen,inexpressiveandpeaceful,withtheirhairandcomplexionslookinglikesilvermedalstarnishedbysteamoflead.Theyoungbeauxwerestruttingaboutinthepit,showingintheopeningoftheirwaistcoatstheirpinkorapplegreencravats,andMadameBovaryfromaboveadmiredthemleaningontheircaneswithgoldenknobsintheopenpalmoftheiryellowgloves.

           Nowthelightsoftheorchestrawerelit,thelustre,letdownfromtheceiling,throwingbytheglimmeringofitsfacetsasuddengaietyoverthetheatre;thenthemusicianscameinoneaftertheother;andfirsttherewastheprotractedhubbubofthebassesgrumbling,violinssqueaking,cornetstrumpeting,flutesandflageoletsfifing.Butthreeknockswereheardonthestage,arollingofdrumsbegan,thebrassinstrumentsplayedsomechords,andthecurtainrising,discoveredacountry-scene.

           Itwasthecross-roadsofawood,withafountainshadedbyanoaktotheleft.Peasantsandlordswithplaidsontheirshouldersweresingingahunting-songtogether;thenacaptainsuddenlycameon,whoevokedthespiritofevilbyliftingbothhisarmstoheaven.Anotherappeared;theywentaway,andthehuntersstartedafresh.Shefeltherselftransportedtothereadingofheryouth,intothemidstofWalterScott.SheseemedtohearthroughthemistthesoundoftheScotchbagpipesre-echoingovertheheather.

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