Page 293 - madame-bovary

came in one after the other; and first there was the pro-
tracted hubbub of the basses grumbling, violins squeaking,
cornets trumpeting, flutes and flageolets fifing. But three
knocks were heard on the stage, a rolling of drums began,
the brass instruments played some chords, and the curtain
rising, discovered a country-scene.
It was the cross-roads of a wood, with a fountain shad-
ed by an oak to the left. Peasants and lords with plaids on
their shoulders were singing a hunting-song together; then
a captain suddenly came on, who evoked the spirit of evil
by lifting both his arms to heaven. Another appeared; they
went away, and the hunters started afresh. She felt herself
transported to the reading of her youth, into the midst
of Walter Scott. She seemed to hear through the mist the
sound of the Scotch bagpipes re-echoing over the heather.
Then her remembrance of the novel helping her to under-
stand the libretto, she followed the story phrase by phrase,
while vague thoughts that came back to her dispersed at
once again with the bursts of music. She gave herself up to
the lullaby of the melodies, and felt all her being vibrate as
if the violin bows were drawn over her nerves. She had not
eyes enough to look at the costumes, the scenery, the actors,
the painted trees that shook when anyone walked, and the
velvet caps, cloaks, swords—all those imaginary things that
floated amid the harmony as in the atmosphere of anoth-
er world. But a young woman stepped forward, throwing a
purse to a squire in green. She was left alone, and the flute
was heard like the murmur of a fountain or the warbling of
birds. Lucie attacked her cavatina in G major bravely. She

Madame Bovary