Page 436 - madame-bovary

A terrible curiosity seized him. Slowly, with the tips of
his fingers, palpitating, he lifted her veil. But he uttered a
cry of horror that awoke the other two.
They dragged him down into the sitting-room. Then Fe-
licite came up to say that he wanted some of her hair.
‘Cut some off,’ replied the druggist.
And as she did not dare to, he himself stepped forward,
scissors in hand. He trembled so that he pierced the skin
of the temple in several places. At last, stiffening himself
against emotion, Homais gave two or three great cuts at
random that left white patches amongst that beautiful black
hair.
The chemist and the cure plunged anew into their occu-
pations, not without sleeping from time to time, of which
they accused each other reciprocally at each fresh awaken-
ing. Then Monsieur Bournisien sprinkled the room with
holy water and Homais threw a little chlorine water on the
floor.
Felicite had taken care to put on the chest of drawers, for
each of them, a bottle of brandy, some cheese, and a large
roll. And the druggist, who could not hold out any longer,
about four in the morning sighed—
‘My word! I should like to take some sustenance.’
The priest did not need any persuading; he went out to go
and say mass, came back, and then they ate and hobnobbed,
giggling a little without knowing why, stimulated by that
vague gaiety that comes upon us after times of sadness, and
at the last glass the priest said to the druggist, as he clapped
him on the shoulder—