“Yesterday，bytheBois-Guillaumehill，askittishhorse——“Andthenfollowedthestoryofanaccidentcausedbythepresenceoftheblindman。
　　Hemanagedsowellthatthefellowwaslockedup。Buthewasreleased。Hebeganagain，andHomaisbeganagain。Itwasastruggle。Homaiswonit，forhisfoewascondemnedtolife-longconfinementinanasylum。
　　Thissuccessemboldenedhim，andhenceforththerewasnolongeradogrunover，abarnburntdown，awomanbeatenintheparish，ofwhichhedidnotimmediatelyinformthepublic，guidedalwaysbytheloveofprogressandthehateofpriests。Heinstitutedcomparisonsbetweentheelementaryandclericalschoolstothedetrimentofthelatter；calledtomindthemassacreofSt。
　　Bartholomewaproposofagrantofonehundredfrancstothechurch，anddenouncedabuses，airednewviews。Thatwashisphrase。Homaiswasdigginganddelving；hewasbecomingdangerous。
　　However，hewasstiflinginthenarrowlimitsofjournalism，andsoonabook，aworkwasnecessarytohim。Thenhecomposed“GeneralStatisticsoftheCantonofYonville，followedbyClimatologicalRemarks。“Thestatisticsdrovehimtophilosophy。
　　Hebusiedhimselfwithgreatquestions：thesocialproblem：
　　moralisationofthepoorerclasses，pisciculture，caoutchouc，railways，etc。Heevenbegantoblushatbeingabourgeois。Heaffectedtheartisticstyle，hesmoked。HeboughttwochicPompadourstatuettestoadornhisdrawing-room。
　　Hebynomeansgaveuphisshop。Onthecontrary，hekeptwellabreastofnewdiscoveries。Hefollowedthegreatmovementofchocolates；hewasthefirsttointroduce“cocoa“and“revalenta“
　　intotheSeine-Inferieure。Hewasenthusiasticaboutthehydro-electricPulvermacherchains；heworeonehimself，andwhenatnighthetookoffhisflannelvest，MadameHomaisstoodquitedazzledbeforethegoldenspiralbeneathwhichhewashidden，andfeltherardourredoubleforthismanmorebandagedthanaScythian，andsplendidasoneoftheMagi。
　　HehadfineideasaboutEmma’stomb。Firstheproposedabrokencolumnwithsomedrapery，nextapyramid，thenaTempleofVesta，asortofrotunda，orelsea“massofruins。“AndinallhisplansHomaisalwaysstucktotheweepingwillow，whichhelookeduponastheindispensablesymbolofsorrow。
　　CharlesandhemadeajourneytoRouentogethertolookatsometombsatafuneralfurnisher’s，accompaniedbyanartist，oneVaufrylard，afriendofBridoux’s，whomadepunsallthetime。Atlast，afterhavingexaminedsomehundreddesigns，havingorderedanestimateandmadeanotherjourneytoRouen，Charlesdecidedinfavourofamausoleum，whichonthetwoprincipalsideswastohavea“spiritbearinganextinguishedtorch。“
　　Astotheinscription，HomaiscouldthinkofnothingsofineasStaviator*，andhegotnofurther；herackedhisbrain，heconstantlyrepeatedStaviator。AtlasthehituponAmabilenconjugemcalcas**，whichwasadopted。
　　*Resttraveler。
　　**Treaduponalovingwife。
　　AstrangethingwasthatBovary，whilecontinuallythinkingofEmma，wasforgettingher。Hegrewdesperateashefeltthisimagefadingfromhismemoryinspiteofalleffortstoretainit。Yeteverynighthedreamtofher；itwasalwaysthesamedream。Hedrewnearher，butwhenhewasabouttoclasphershefellintodecayinhisarms。
　　Foraweekhewasseengoingtochurchintheevening。MonsieurBournisienevenpaidhimtwoorthreevisits，thengavehimup。
　　Moreover，theoldfellowwasgrowingintolerant，fanatic，saidHomais。Hethunderedagainstthespiritoftheage，andneverfailed，everyotherweek，inhissermon，torecountthedeathagonyofVoltaire，whodieddevouringhisexcrements，aseveryoneknows。
　　InspiteoftheeconomywithwhichBovarylived，hewasfarfrombeingabletopayoffhisolddebts。Lheureuxrefusedtorenewanymorebills。Adistraintbecameimminent。Thenheappealedtohismother，whoconsentedtolethimtakeamortgageonherproperty，butwithagreatmanyrecriminationsagainstEmma；andinreturnforhersacrificesheaskedforashawlthathadescapedthedepredationsofFelicite。Charlesrefusedtogiveither；theyquarrelled。
　　Shemadethefirstoverturesofreconciliationbyofferingtohavethelittlegirl，whocouldhelpherinthehouse，tolivewithher。Charlesconsentedtothis，butwhenthetimeforpartingcame，allhiscouragefailedhim。Thentherewasafinal，completerupture。
　　Ashisaffectionsvanished，heclungmorecloselytotheloveofhischild。Shemadehimanxious，however，forshecoughedsometimes，andhadredspotsonhercheeks。
　　Oppositehishouse，flourishingandmerry，wasthefamilyofthechemist，withwhomeverythingwasprospering。Napoleonhelpedhiminthelaboratory，Athalieembroideredhimaskullcap，Irmacutoutroundsofpapertocoverthepreserves，andFranklinrecitedPythagoras’tableinabreath。Hewasthehappiestoffathers，themostfortunateofmen。
　　Notso!Asecretambitiondevouredhim。HomaishankeredafterthecrossoftheLegionofHonour。Hehadplentyofclaimstoit。
　　“First，havingatthetimeofthecholeradistinguishedmyselfbyaboundlessdevotion；second，byhavingpublished，atmyexpense，variousworksofpublicutility，suchas“andherecalledhispamphletentitled，“Cider，itsmanufactureandeffects，“besidesobservationonthelanigerousplant-louse，senttotheAcademy；
　　hisvolumeofstatistics，anddowntohispharmaceuticalthesis；
　　“withoutcountingthatIamamemberofseverallearnedsocieties“hewasmemberofasingleone。
　　“Inshort!“hecried，makingapirouette，“ifitwereonlyfordistinguishingmyselfatfires!“
　　ThenHomaisinclinedtowardstheGovernment。Hesecretlydidtheprefectgreatserviceduringtheelections。Hesoldhimself——inaword，prostitutedhimself。Heevenaddressedapetitiontothesovereigninwhichheimploredhimto“dohimjustice“；hecalledhim“ourgoodking，“andcomparedhimtoHenriIV。
　　Andeverymorningthedruggistrushedforthepapertoseeifhisnominationwereinit。Itwasneverthere。Atlast，unabletobearitanylonger，hehadagrassplotinhisgardendesignedtorepresenttheStaroftheCrossofHonourwithtwolittlestripsofgrassrunningfromthetoptoimitatetheribband。Hewalkedrounditwithfoldedarms，meditatingonthefollyoftheGovernmentandtheingratitudeofmen。
　　>Fromrespect，orfromasortofsensualitythatmadehimcarryonhisinvestigationsslowly，CharleshadnotyetopenedthesecretdrawerofarosewooddeskwhichEmmahadgenerallyused。Oneday，however，hesatdownbeforeit，turnedthekey，andpressedthespring。AllLeon’sletterswerethere。Therecouldbenodoubtthistime。Hedevouredthemtotheverylast，ransackedeverycorner，allthefurniture，allthedrawers，behindthewalls，sobbing，cryingaloud，distraught，mad。Hefoundaboxandbrokeitopenwithakick。Rodolphe’sportraitflewfullinhisfaceinthemidstoftheoverturnedlove-letters。
　　Peoplewonderedathisdespondency。Heneverwentout，sawnoone，refusedeventovisithispatients。Thentheysaid“heshuthimselfuptodrink。“
　　Sometimes，however，somecuriouspersonclimbedontothegardenhedge，andsawwithamazementthislong-bearded，shabbilyclothed，wildman，whoweptaloudashewalkedupanddown。
　　Intheeveninginsummerhetookhislittlegirlwithhimandledhertothecemetery。Theycamebackatnightfall，whentheonlylightleftinthePlacewasthatinBinet’swindow。
　　Thevoluptuousnessofhisgriefwas，however，incomplete，forhehadnoonenearhimtoshareit，andhepaidvisitstoMadameLefrancoistobeabletospeakofher。
　　Butthelandladyonlylistenedwithhalfanear，havingtroubleslikehimself。ForLheureuxhadatlastestablishedthe“FavoritesduCommerce，“andHivert，whoenjoyedagreatreputationfordoingerrands，insistedonariseofwages，andwasthreateningtogoover“totheoppositionshop。“
　　OnedaywhenhehadgonetothemarketatArgueiltosellhishorse——hislastresource——hemetRodolphe。
　　Theybothturnedpalewhentheycaughtsightofoneanother。
　　Rodolphe，whohadonlysenthiscard，firststammeredsomeapologies，thengrewbolder，andevenpushedhisassuranceitwasinthemonthofAugustandveryhottothelengthofinvitinghimtohaveabottleofbeeratthepublic-house。
　　Leaningonthetableoppositehim，hechewedhiscigarashetalked，andCharleswaslostinreverieatthisfacethatshehadloved。Heseemedtoseeagainsomethingofherinit。Itwasamarveltohim。Hewouldhavelikedtohavebeenthisman。
　　Theotherwentontalkingagriculture，cattle，pasturage，fillingoutwithbanalphrasesallthegapswhereanallusionmightslipin。Charleswasnotlisteningtohim；Rodolphenoticedit，andhefollowedthesuccessionofmemoriesthatcrossedhisface。Thisgraduallygrewredder；thenostrilsthrobbedfast，thelipsquivered。TherewasatlastamomentwhenCharles，fullofasombrefury，fixedhiseyesonRodolphe，who，insomethingoffear，stoppedtalking。Butsoonthesamelookofwearylassitudecamebacktohisface。
　　“Idon’tblameyou，“hesaid。
　　Rodolphewasdumb。AndCharles，hisheadinhishands，wentoninabrokenvoice，andwiththeresignedaccentofinfinitesorrow——
　　“No，Idon’tblameyounow。“
　　Heevenaddedafinephrase，theonlyoneheevermade——
　　“Itisthefaultoffatality!“
　　Rodolphe，whohadmanagedthefatality，thoughttheremarkveryoffhandfromamaninhisposition，comiceven，andalittlemean。
　　ThenextdayCharleswenttositdownontheseatinthearbour。
　　Raysoflightwerestrayingthroughthetrellis，thevineleavesthrewtheirshadowsonthesand，thejasminesperfumedtheair，theheavenswereblue，Spanishfliesbuzzedroundtheliliesinbloom，andCharleswassuffocatinglikeayouthbeneaththevagueloveinfluencesthatfilledhisachingheart。
　　Atseveno’clocklittleBerthe，whohadnotseenhimalltheafternoon，wenttofetchhimtodinner。
　　Hisheadwasthrownbackagainstthewall，hiseyesclosed，hismouthopen，andinhishandwasalongtressofblackhair。
　　“Comealong，papa，“shesaid。
　　Andthinkinghewantedtoplay；shepushedhimgently。Hefelltotheground。Hewasdead。
　　Thirty-sixhoursafter，atthedruggist’srequest，MonsieurCanivetcamethither。Hemadeapost-mortemandfoundnothing。
　　Wheneverythinghadbeensold，twelvefrancsseventy-fivecentimesremained，thatservedtopayforMademoiselleBovary’sgoingtohergrandmother。Thegoodwomandiedthesameyear；oldRouaultwasparalysed，anditwasanauntwhotookchargeofher。
　　Sheispoor，andsendshertoacotton-factorytoearnaliving。
　　SinceBovary’sdeaththreedoctorshavefollowedoneanotheratYonvillewithoutanysuccess，soseverelydidHomaisattackthem。
　　Hehasanenormouspractice；theauthoritiestreathimwithconsideration，andpublicopinionprotectshim。
　　HehasjustreceivedthecrossoftheLegionofHonour。
　　End