Page 415 - madame-bovary

a powerful antidote. What is the poison?’
Charles showed him the letter. It was arsenic.
‘Very well,’ said Homais, ‘we must make an analysis.’
For he knew that in cases of poisoning an analysis must be
made; and the other, who did not understand, answered—
‘Oh, do anything! save her!’
Then going back to her, he sank upon the carpet, and
lay there with his head leaning against the edge of her bed,
sobbing.
‘Don’t cry,’ she said to him. ‘Soon I shall not trouble you
any more.’
‘Why was it? Who drove you to it?’
She replied. ‘It had to be, my dear!’
‘Weren’t you happy? Is it my fault? I did all I could!’
‘Yes, that is true—you are good—you.’
And she passed her hand slowly over his hair. The sweet-
ness of this sensation deepened his sadness; he felt his whole
being dissolving in despair at the thought that he must lose
her, just when she was confessing more love for him than
ever. And he could think of nothing; he did not know, he
did not dare; the urgent need for some immediate resolu-
tion gave the finishing stroke to the turmoil of his mind.
So she had done, she thought, with all the treachery; and
meanness, and numberless desires that had tortured her.
She hated no one now; a twilight dimness was settling upon
her thoughts, and, of all earthly noises, Emma heard none
but the intermittent lamentations of this poor heart, sweet
and indistinct like the echo of a symphony dying away.
‘Bring me the child,’ she said, raising herself on her el-

1 Madame Bovary