CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Madame Bovary smiled as she entered the opera house. The event reminded her of the dance at la Vaubyessard. Her heart beat quickly as she and her husband walked to their seats. There were old men with peaceful faces, and young gentlemen walking confidently in freshly pressed suits. Madame Bovary admired them from above, sitting in her balcony seat.

The lights were turned down, and the music began. She remembered her days as a young girl, filled with the romantic stories and dreams she read in novels. Emma leaned forward in her chair to watch the actors, as they burst out in anger, and then cried tears of love, through tender kisses. Emma had recently forgotten such strong emotions. No one had ever loved her with a love like that. Rodolphe had not cried like that on their last evening in the moonlight when they had said, 'Till tomorrow! Till tomorrow!'

"Why is that man being cruel to her?" asked Bovary.

"No, no, no, he's her lover," she answered.

Emma explained more, but Charles continued with questions.

"Why does it matter?" said Emma. "Be quiet!"

"You know I always like to understand what is happening," he whispered.

"Quiet, quiet!" she said impatiently.

As she watched, she fell in love with the main actor. She imagined her life, together with that man. She would have visited all the kingdoms of Europe. He would look up at her in a balcony seat as he sang, singing for only her. She longed to run to him, to cry out, 'Take me! Carry me away! I am yours forever! '

The actors left the stage. The lights were turned on for the intermission. Charles went to fetch some water, but had difficulty walking through the crowds of people.

At last, Charles returned.

"You'll never guess who I saw as I was returning! Monsieur Leon!"

"Leon?"

"He's coming up to greet you."

Immediately, Leon appeared. He held out his gentleman's hand to her. She had not touched that hand since that spring evening when he left for Paris.

"Oh! Good evening! So, you're living in Rouen now," she said nervously.

"Yes."

"How long have you been here?"

The play had begun again. People were turning around to look at them in anger. They stopped talking.

Emma no longer paid attention to the play. Her thoughts were on Leon. Why had they met again? She remembered the evenings at the chemist's home when he would read her poetry. She had forgotten about their little love, so quiet and patient, but now remembered everything.

Charles was charmed by the play, but Leon and Emma complained of the heat, and so the three left the opera house.

Charles said they were going home in the morning. "Unless you'd like to stay in Rouen by yourself, my dear?" he said to his wife. "You can come home on Sunday."

Emma stayed in Rouen.

(end of section)