Part I: Chapter Four

by Gustave Flaubert

　　The guests arrived early in carriages, in one-horse chaises,two-wheeled cars, old open gigs, waggonettes with leather hoods,and the young people from the nearer villages in carts, in whichthey stood up in rows, holding on to the sides so as not to fall,going at a trot and well shaken up. Some came from a distance ofthirty miles, from Goderville, from Normanville, and from Cany.

　　All the relatives of both families had been invited, quarrelsbetween friends arranged, acquaintances long since lost sight ofwritten to.

　　>From time to time one heard the crack of a whip behind the hedge;then the gates opened, a chaise entered. Galloping up to the footof the steps, it stopped short and emptied its load. They gotdown from all sides, rubbing knees and stretching arms. Theladies, wearing bonnets, had on dresses in the town fashion, goldwatch chains, pelerines with the ends tucked into belts, orlittle coloured fichus fastened down behind with a pin, and thatleft the back of the neck bare. The lads, dressed like theirpapas, seemed uncomfortable in their new clothes (many that dayhand-sewed their first pair of boots), and by their sides,speaking never a work, wearing the white dress of their firstcommunion lengthened for the occasion were some big girls offourteen or sixteen, cousins or elder sisters no doubt, rubicund,bewildered, their hair greasy with rose pomade, and very muchafraid of dirtying their gloves. As there were not enoughstable-boys to unharness all the carriages, the gentlemen turnedup their sleeves and set about it themselves. According to theirdifferent social positions they wore tail-coats, overcoats,shooting jackets, cutaway-coats; fine tail-coats, redolent offamily respectability, that only came out of the wardrobe onstate occasions; overcoats with long tails flapping in the windand round capes and pockets like sacks; shooting jackets ofcoarse cloth, generally worn with a cap with a brass-bound peak;very short cutaway-coats with two small buttons in the back,close together like a pair of eyes, and the tails of which seemedcut out of one piece by a carpenter's hatchet. Some, too (butthese, you may be sure, would sit at the bottom of the table),wore their best blouses--that is to say, with collars turned downto the shoulders, the back gathered into small plaits and thewaist fastened very low down with a worked belt.

　　And the shirts stood out from the chests like cuirasses! Everyonehad just had his hair cut; ears stood out from the heads; theyhad been close-shaved; a few, even, who had had to get up beforedaybreak, and not been able to see to shave, had diagonal gashesunder their noses or cuts the size of a three-franc piece alongthe jaws, which the fresh air en route had enflamed, so that thegreat white beaming faces were mottled here and there with reddabs.

　　The mairie was a mile and a half from the farm, and they wentthither on foot, returning in the same way after the ceremony inthe church. The procession, first united like one long colouredscarf that undulated across the fields, along the narrow pathwinding amid the green corn, soon lengthened out, and broke upinto different groups that loitered to talk. The fiddler walkedin front with his violin, gay with ribbons at its pegs. Then camethe married pair, the relations, the friends, all followingpell-mell; the children stayed behind amusing themselves pluckingthe bell-flowers from oat-ears, or playing amongst themselvesunseen. Emma's dress, too long, trailed a little on the ground;from time to time she stopped to pull it up, and then delicately,with her gloved hands, she picked off the coarse grass and thethistledowns, while Charles, empty handed, waited till she hadfinished. Old Rouault, with a new silk hat and the cuffs of hisblack coat covering his hands up to the nails, gave his arm toMadame Bovary senior. As to Monsieur Bovary senior, who, heartilydespising all these folk, had come simply in a frock-coat ofmilitary cut with one row of buttons--he was passing complimentsof the bar to a fair young peasant. She bowed, blushed, and didnot know what to say. The other wedding guests talked of theirbusiness or played tricks behind each other's backs, egging oneanother on in advance to be jolly. Those who listened couldalways catch the squeaking of the fiddler, who went on playingacross the fields. When he saw that the rest were far behind hestopped to take breath, slowly rosined his bow, so that thestrings should sound more shrilly, then set off again, by turnslowering and raising his neck, the better to mark time forhimself. The noise of the instrument drove away the little birdsfrom afar.

　　The table was laid under the cart-shed. On it were four sirloins,six chicken fricassees, stewed veal, three legs of mutton, and inthe middle a fine roast suckling pig, flanked by fourchitterlings with sorrel. At the corners were decanters ofbrandy. Sweet bottled-cider frothed round the corks, and all theglasses had been filled to the brim with wine beforehand. Largedishes of yellow cream, that trembled with the least shake of thetable, had designed on their smooth surface the initials of thenewly wedded pair in nonpareil arabesques. A confectioner ofYvetot had been intrusted with the tarts and sweets. As he hadonly just set up on the place, he had taken a lot of trouble, andat dessert he himself brought in a set dish that evoked loudcries of wonderment. To begin with, at its base there was asquare of blue cardboard, representing a temple with porticoes,colonnades, and stucco statuettes all round, and in the nichesconstellations of gilt paper stars; then on the second stage wasa dungeon of Savoy cake, surrounded by many fortifications incandied angelica, almonds, raisins, and quarters of oranges; andfinally, on the upper platform a green field with rocks set inlakes of jam, nutshell boats, and a small Cupid balancing himselfin a chocolate swing whose two uprights ended in real roses forballs at the top.

　　Until night they ate. When any of them were too tired of sitting,they went out for a stroll in the yard, or for a game with corksin the granary, and then returned to table. Some towards thefinish went to sleep and snored. But with the coffee everyonewoke up. Then they began songs, showed off tricks, raised heavyweights, performed feats with their fingers, then tried liftingcarts on their shoulders, made broad jokes, kissed the women. Atnight when they left, the horses, stuffed up to the nostrils withoats, could hardly be got into the shafts; they kicked, reared,the harness broke, their masters laughed or swore; and all nightin the light of the moon along country roads there were runawaycarts at full gallop plunging into the ditches, jumping over yardafter yard of stones, clambering up the hills, with women leaningout from the tilt to catch hold of the reins.

　　Those who stayed at the Bertaux spent the night drinking in thekitchen. The children had fallen asleep under the seats.

　　The bride had begged her father to be spared the usual marriagepleasantries. However, a fishmonger, one of their cousins (whohad even brought a pair of soles for his wedding present), beganto squirt water from his mouth through the keyhole, when oldRouault came up just in time to stop him, and explain to him thatthe distinguished position of his son-in-law would not allow ofsuch liberties. The cousin all the same did not give in to thesereasons readily. In his heart he accused old Rouault of beingproud, and he joined four or five other guests in a corner, whohaving, through mere chance, been several times running servedwith the worst helps of meat, also were of opinion they had beenbadly used, and were whispering about their host, and withcovered hints hoping he would ruin himself.

　　Madame Bovary, senior, had not opened her mouth all day. She hadbeen consulted neither as to the dress of her daughter-in-law noras to the arrangement of the feast; she went to bed early. Herhusband, instead of following her, sent to Saint-Victor for somecigars, and smoked till daybreak, drinking kirsch-punch, amixture unknown to the company. This added greatly to theconsideration in which he was held.

　　Charles, who was not of a facetious turn, did not shine at thewedding. He answered feebly to the puns, doubles entendres*,compliments, and chaff that it was felt a duty to let off at himas soon as the soup appeared.

　　*Double meanings.

　　The next day, on the other hand, he seemed another man. It was hewho might rather have been taken for the virgin of the eveningbefore, whilst the bride gave no sign that revealed anything. Theshrewdest did not know what to make of it, and they looked at herwhen she passed near them with an unbounded concentration ofmind. But Charles concealed nothing. He called her "my wife",tutoyed* her, asked for her of everyone, looked for hereverywhere, and often he dragged her into the yards, where hecould be seen from far between the trees, putting his arm aroundher waist, and walking half-bending over her, ruffling thechemisette of her bodice with his head.

　　*Used the familiar form of address.

　　Two days after the wedding the married pair left. Charles, onaccount of his patients, could not be away longer. Old Rouaulthad them driven back in his cart, and himself accompanied them asfar as Vassonville. Here he embraced his daughter for the lasttime, got down, and went his way. When he had gone about ahundred paces he stopped, and as he saw the cart disappearing,its wheels turning in the dust, he gave a deep sigh. Then heremembered his wedding, the old times, the first pregnancy of hiswife; he, too, had been very happy the day when he had taken herfrom her father to his home, and had carried her off on apillion, trotting through the snow, for it was nearChristmas-time, and the country was all white. She held him byone arm, her basket hanging from the other; the wind blew thelong lace of her Cauchois headdress so that it sometimes flappedacross his mouth, and when he turned his head he saw near him, onhis shoulder, her little rosy face, smiling silently under thegold bands of her cap. To warm her hands she put them from timeto time in his breast. How long ago it all was! Their son wouldhave been thirty by now. Then he looked back and saw nothing onthe road. He felt dreary as an empty house; and tender memoriesmingling with the sad thoughts in his brain, addled by the fumesof the feast, he felt inclined for a moment to take a turntowards the church. As he was afraid, however, that this sightwould make him yet more sad, he went right away home.

　　Monsieur and Madame Charles arrived at Tostes about six o'clock.

　　The neighbors came to the windows to see their doctor's new wife.

　　The old servant presented herself, curtsied to her, apologisedfor not having dinner ready, and suggested that madame, in themeantime, should look over her house.