CHAPTER EIGHT

The famous show did arrive. From early morning on the great day, the village people stood at their doors, discussing the day. Soon enough, Monsieur Rodolphe found Madame Bovary, and they walked around the event together, she holding his arm. Every now and then, he would make a conversational remark, such as, "What a wonderful day!" or "The wind's strong today!"

Madame Bovary spoke little as they walked.

"I'm so fortunate to be with you today," he told her.

She smiled with embarrassment. Some flowers were growing nearby.

"What pretty flowers!" he said. "Beautiful flowers for the girls in love! What would you say if I picked one?"

"Are you in love?" she asked, with a little cough.

"Who knows?" answered Rodolphe.

The show was beginning to fill with people. Inside were the animals, their owners standing close by. Meanwhile, Rodolphe and Emma spoke of the boring life of the countryside.

"That's the reason," said Rodolphe, "I've been so unhappy recently."

"You!" she exclaimed in surprise. "I thought you were a very cheerful person."

"Oh, I look very happy, but I am not."

"Oh! But what about your friends?" she said. "Don't you think of them?"

"My friends? What friends? Have I got any? Is there anyone who cares about me? I've missed a lot. If I'd found someone ... 

"But, you're free—and rich."

"You're laughing at me!" he exclaimed.

She told him she was not.

"We poor women have no freedom, no entertainment."

"Entertainment never brings happiness."

"Does anything?" she asked.

"It comes along one day," Rodolphe told her, "Suddenly. You meet someone, as if you have seen each other in your dreams"—and he looked at her. Rodolphe had moved closer to Emma, and was talking quickly in a low voice.

"Doesn't society sicken you? If two people do meet, then everything prevents them being together. They'll attempt it, and no matter what happens, they'll meet again and love—because they were born for each other."

He looked up at her. She was near enough to him to smell the cream on his hair. She remembered the Viscount who had danced with her at la Vaubyessard, that same smell of lemon and vanilla. Just then, she looked up to see the Hirondelle coming slowly, the same carriage that Leon so often came to visit her in, and on that same road that he left on, to leave her forever.

She suddenly remembered her old desires, and then looked at Rodolphe, sitting next to her.

"We, now, why did we meet?" he asked her. "Was it not that, like two rivers coming together; nature brings us towards one another?"

He took her hand.

"I've stayed with you today because I could not leave you. I have never been so charmed with anyone before. But you'll forget me. You know that I am yours! Only let me look at you!"

Rodolphe had stopped speaking. They looked at each other. The show was over. Madame Bovary took Rodolphe's arm and he took her home. Then, he went for a walk, thinking of nothing but Emma.

(end of section)