Madame Bovary Page #5

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ecus.

I said we'd take it.

I bought it.

Have I done right?

I have a lover!

I have a lover!

You, here!

Your dress is wet!

I love you, I love you!

It's time to go.

I never want to leave you!

What's wrong? You're suffering?

Speak to me.

You shouldn't come here, you could

compromise yourself.

I don't care.

Don't be silly.

I want to see you. I think only of

you.

Angel, I dream only of you. Don't

worry.

I'll come to you.

Emma!

Come to bed. It's late.

I'm coming.

Within six months, they treated

each other...

like a couple trying to keep the

love alive...

in their marriage.

I want you! I want to devour you.

That's when Emma repented.

Bring her to me!

I love you, my poor dear, I love

you!

Your ears are so dirty!

My ears aren't dirty.

She even wondered why she hated

Charles...

and if she shouldn't love him.

But he gave her no reason to do

so...

until M. Homais provided him

with the ideal chance.

Evening all! Look, Charles.

They talk about a new method for

curing club feet.

Tell me what you think. What if

you operated on Hippolyte?

What glory for Yonville.

Success is guaranteed, according

to the writer.

And what fame for you.

In my role...

as the paper's correspondent, I'll

write an article.

And articles get talked about. Who

knows?

You're a skilful surgeon. I

remember father's leg.

It's not the same thing.

Don't be so modest, Charles.

The family's honour is at stake.

Charles started studying

strephocatopodia...

strephendopodia,

strephexopodia...

along with strephypopodia...

and strephanopodia.

A campaign led by M. Homais...

tried to convince Hippolyte to

accept.

Perhaps you'll feel a slight pain.

It's just like being bled.

It's nothing to do with me! It's for

you, out of humanity.

To see you rid of that hideous

limp.

Wouldn't you like to run like

anyone else?

Women would like you better,

believe me.

You're a man! Suppose you'd had to

fight for France?

Are you all right?

You'll see, it's nothing. He'll just

cut the tendon.

There.

I didn't feel a thing.

See, I told you so.

The operation is a success.

A great day for our town!

Our town...

will always remember the name

of Dr Bovary.

"Our small town of Yonville has

seen a surgical experiment...

that is also a philanthropic act."

"M. Bovary, a distinguished

practitioner..."

It's too much!

No, not at all!

"M. Bovary, a distinguished

practitioner...

has cured the club foot..."

I didn't use the scientific term...

"of Hippolyte Toutain, ostler at

the Lion d'Or."

"The operation went like magic...

with only a few drops of blood on

the skin...

to showthat the rebel tendon...

had at last yielded to the

surgeon's art."

Help, M. Bovary!

Help!

He's dying!

M. Bovary! Quickly!

He's dying!

What is it?

What's wrong?

It hurts! God, it hurts!

What's wrong?

It's so swollen.

It's nothing. It just needs some

air.

When will I be better? Save me.

Here, drink this. It will do you

good.

Look at my dress. See the...

Charles! How is he?

Getting worse. I don't understand.

Could you go?

Of course, gladly. But I can't cure

him.

Stop thinking. Just get up and

walk.

In any case, you smell bad.

I've brought fresh bandages.

My husband's on his way.

Does it hurt?

I lose.

Come for a drink?

You must be brave.

He really stinks.

I'm sure you'll be better soon.

Well, Hippolyte, I hear you're

suffering.

Good lad. You have to be brave.

This is a trial sent by the Lord.

Rejoice in your pain, as it is His

will...

and use it to make your peace

with Heaven.

There's black liquid and it's

swollen to the knee.

It can't go on. It's bad for

business.

Madame Bovary...

your husband must get another

doctor.

I'll send for M. Canivet, from

Neufchaftel.

He's a celebrity.

Good-bye.

I'll call again.

I sawthe priest. What a nerve!

If he thinks his manoeuvres can

save him...

our troubles are far from over!

What do you think?

What do you think?

I don't know.

I don't know.

Amputate!

Excellent result!

That's the capital's ideas for you.

That's Paris! Cure everything!

Be clever without worrying about

the consequences!

That's not our job.

We're not scientists and fops!

We're practitioners and we don't...

operate on a healthy person!

Straighten a clubfoot! How can it

be done?

Why not a hunchback!

Amputate the leg...

to mid-thigh.

I took every possible precaution.

It's fate.

If that poor lad should die...

I'll have murdered him. Everyone

will know.

I'll be dishonoured.

You're getting on my nerves!

She remembered the privations

of her soul...

her dreams in the mud, like

wounded swallows...

the things she'd wanted and

denied herself...

everything she could have had!

But why? Why?

She repented her past virtue as if

it were a crime.

The thought of her lover came

back to charm her.

She gave herself up...

and Charles seemed as alien and

distant as ever...

as impossible and down-cast as a

dying man...

who was in agony before her.

Stand aside!

Kiss me.

- Kiss me.

- Let me go!

What's wrong?

You know I love you.

Enough!

Their love began again.

You've no idea how bored I am.

My husband is hateful.

I only feel repulsion for him.

My life is horrible.

Yes, dear. But what can I do about

it?

If you wanted...

What?

We could go away... somewhere

else.

You're truly mad!

Is that a new dress?

Buy Hippolyte a wooden leg.

Should I?

It's the least you can do.

That dress looks delightful.

I have a surprise for you.

I think this is what you wanted.

It's superb, M. Lheureux.

I'm happy you like it.

Mme Bovary, I regret this but...

an unfortunate chain of events...

bad debtors and important

purchases...

force me to ask you for the money

you owe me.

The total comes to 270 francs.

Forgive me, but it's quite urgent.

I wouldn't like to have to take the

goods back.

I'll pay you, M. Lheureux.

We can come to an arrangement.

No, I'll pay you.

Why buy me presents?

Because I love you.

It's embarrassing for me.

Don't be silly.

Do you love me?

Of course I do.

Very much?

Definitely.

Then let's go.

Take me away! Four years of

suffering. I'm dying!

They torture me. Save me!

What do you want?

Take me away! I beg you!

And Berthe?

We'll take her too.

What a woman!

Well, will you take me?

Let me think. I have things to sort

out.

Will you take me?

Mme Bovary was never more

beautiful than at this time.

She had that indefinable

beauty...

which springs from joy,

enthusiasm and success...

and which is the harmony of

temperament and circumstance.

I'm here to see you.

I understood you were having

problems.

So I'm here to pay my debts.

I'll be needing a coat.

A long coat with a thick collar and

lining.

Are you going on a journey?

No. I'm counting on you. As fast as

possible.

I'll need a small trunk, a light,

practical one.

Three feet by one and a half, the

standard model.

With a night-bag.

Perfect.

Take this. Use it to pay.

There's no need for that!

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