She found him one--the widow of a bailiff at
Dieppe--who was forty-five and had an income of twelve hundred francs.
Though she was ugly, as dry as a bone, her face with as many pimples as
the spring has buds, Madame Dubuc had no lack of suitors. To attain her
ends Madame Bovary had to oust them all, and she even succeeded in
very cleverly baffling the intrigues of a port-butcher backed up by the
priests.
Charles had seen in marriage the advent of an easier life, thinking he
would be more free to do as he liked with himself and his money. But his
wife was master; he had to say this and not say that in company, to fast
every Friday, dress as she liked, harass at her bidding those patients
who did not pay. She opened his letter, watched his comings and goings,
and listened at the partition-wall when women came to consult him in his
surgery.
She must have her chocolate every morning, attentions without end. She
constantly complained of her nerves, her chest, her liver. The noise of
footsteps made her ill; when people left her, solitude became odious to
her; if they came back, it was doubtless to see her die.
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