Page 392 - madame-bovary

him for the first time, murmured something about ‘cor-
nea,’ ‘opaque cornea,’ ‘sclerotic,’ ‘facies,’ then asked him in
a paternal tone—
‘My friend, have you long had this terrible infirmity? In-
stead of getting drunk at the public, you’d do better to die
yourself.’
He advised him to take good wine, good beer, and good
joints. The blind man went on with his song; he seemed,
moreover, almost idiotic. At last Monsieur Homais opened
his purse—
‘Now there’s a sou; give me back two lairds, and don’t for-
get my advice: you’ll be the better for it.’
Hivert openly cast some doubt on the efficacy of it. But
the druggist said that he would cure himself with an anti-
phlogistic pomade of his own composition, and he gave his
address—‘Monsieur Homais, near the market, pretty well
known.’
‘Now,’ said Hivert, ‘for all this trouble you’ll give us your
performance.’
The blind man sank down on his haunches, with his
head thrown back, whilst he rolled his greenish eyes, lolled
out his tongue, and rubbed his stomach with both hands as
he uttered a kind of hollow yell like a famished dog. Emma,
filled with disgust, threw him over her shoulder a five-franc
piece. It was all her fortune. It seemed to her very fine thus
to throw it away.
The coach had gone on again when suddenly Monsieur
Homais leant out through the window, crying—
‘No farinaceous or milk food, wear wool next the skin,

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