Госпожа Бовари

Chapter 1

           Thekeeper,whoisatoncegravediggerandchurchbeadle(thusmakingadoubleprofitoutoftheparishcorpses),hastakenadvantageoftheunusedplotofgroundtoplantpotatoesthere.Fromyeartoyear,however,hissmallfieldgrowssmaller,andwhenthereisanepidemic,hedoesnotknowwhethertorejoiceatthedeathsorregrettheburials.

           "Youliveonthedead,Lestiboudois!"thecurieatlastsaidtohimoneday.Thisgrimremarkmadehimreflect;itcheckedhimforsometime;buttothisdayhecarriesonthecultivationofhislittletubers,andevenmaintainsstoutlythattheygrownaturally.

           Sincetheeventsabouttobenarrated,nothinginfacthaschangedatYonville.Thetintricolourflagstillswingsatthetopofthechurch-steeple;thetwochintzstreamersstillflutterinthewindfromthelinen-draper’s;thechemist’sfetuses,likelumpsofwhiteamadou,rotmoreandmoreintheirturbidalcohol,andabovethebigdooroftheinntheoldgoldenlion,fadedbyrain,stillshowspassers-byitspoodlemane.

           OntheeveningwhentheBovarysweretoarriveatYonville,WidowLefrancois,thelandladyofthisinn,wassoverybusythatshesweatedgreatdropsasshemovedhersaucepans.To-morrowwasmarket-day.Themeathadtobecutbeforehand,thefowlsdrawn,thesoupandcoffeemade.

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