Page 238 - madame-bovary

‘When shall I get well? Oh, save me! How unfortunate I
am! How unfortunate I am!’
And the doctor left, always recommending him to diet
himself.
‘Don’t listen to him, my lad,’ said Mere Lefrancois,
‘Haven’t they tortured you enough already? You’ll grow still
weaker. Here! swallow this.’
And she gave him some good beef-tea, a slice of mutton,
a piece of bacon, and sometimes small glasses of brandy,
that he had not the strength to put to his lips.
Abbe Bournisien, hearing that he was growing worse,
asked to see him. He began by pitying his sufferings, declar-
ing at the same time that he ought to rejoice at them since it
was the will of the Lord, and take advantage of the occasion
to reconcile himself to Heaven.
‘For,’ said the ecclesiastic in a paternal tone, ‘you rather
neglected your duties; you were rarely seen at divine wor-
ship. How many years is it since you approached the holy
table? I understand that your work, that the whirl of the
world may have kept you from care for your salvation. But
now is the time to reflect. Yet don’t despair. I have known
great sinners, who, about to appear before God (you are not
yet at this point I know), had implored His mercy, and who
certainly died in the best frame of mind. Let us hope that,
like them, you will set us a good example. Thus, as a pre-
caution, what is to prevent you from saying morning and
evening a ‘Hail Mary, full of grace,’ and ‘Our Father which
art in heaven’? Yes, do that, for my sake, to oblige me. That
won’t cost you anything. Will you promise me?’