Госпожа Бовари

Chapter 1

           Againsttheplasterwalldiagonallycrossedbyblackjoists,ameagrepear-treesometimesleansandtheground-floorshaveattheirdoorasmallswing-gatetokeepoutthechicksthatcomepilferingcrumbsofbreadsteepedincideronthethreshold.Butthecourtyardsgrownarrower,thehousesclosertogether,andthefencesdisappear;abundleoffernsswingsunderawindowfromtheendofabroomstick;thereisablacksmith’sforgeandthenawheelwright’s,withtwoorthreenewcartsoutsidethatpartlyblocktheway.ThenacrossanopenspaceappearsawhitehousebeyondagrassmoundornamentedbyaCupid,hisfingeronhislips;twobrassvasesareateachendofaflightofsteps;scutcheonsblazeuponthedoor.Itisthenotary’shouse,andthefinestintheplace.

           TheChurchisontheothersideofthestreet,twentypacesfartherdown,attheentranceofthesquare.Thelittlecemeterythatsurroundsit,closedinbyawallbreasthigh,issofullofgravesthattheoldstones,levelwiththeground,formacontinuouspavement,onwhichthegrassofitselfhasmarkedoutregulargreensquares.ThechurchwasrebuiltduringthelastyearsofthereignofCharlesX.Thewoodenroofisbeginningtorotfromthetop,andhereandtherehasblackhollowsinitsbluecolour.Overthedoor,wheretheorganshouldbe,isaloftforthemen,withaspiralstaircasethatreverberatesundertheirwoodenshoes.

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