moved from the field, and he even kept running back
every minute to fetch others from the church. He caused such confusion
with this piece of business that one had great difficulty in getting to
the small steps of the platform.

"I think," said Monsieur Lheureux to the chemist, who was passing to his
place, "that they ought to have put up two Venetian masts with something
rather severe and rich for ornaments; it would have been a very pretty
effect."

"To be sure," replied Homais; "but what can you expect? The mayor took
everything on his own shoulders. He hasn't much taste. Poor Tuvache! and
he is even completely destitute of what is called the genius of art."

Rodolphe, meanwhile, with Madame Bovary, had gone up to the first floor
of the townhall, to the "council-room," and as it was empty, he declared
that they could enjoy the sight there more comfortably. He fetched three
stools from the round table under the bust of the monarch, and having
carried them to one of the windows, they sat down by each other.

There was commotion on the platform, long whisperings, much parleying.
At last the councilor got up. They knew now that his name was Lieuvain,
and in the crowd the name was passed from one to the other. After he had
collated a few pages, and bent over them to see better, he began:

"Gentlemen! May I be permitted first of all (before addressing you on
the object of our meeting to-day, and this sentiment, will, I am sure,
be shared by you all), may I be permitted, I say, to pay a tribute to
the higher administration, to the government, to the monarch, gentlemen,
our sovereign, to that beloved king, to whom no branch of public or
private prosperity is a matter of indifference, and who directs with a
hand at once so firm and wise the chariot of the state amid the
incessant perils of a stormy sea, knowing, moreover, how to make peace
respected as well as war, industry, commerce, agriculture, and the fine
arts."

"I ought," said Rodolphe, "to get back a little further."

"Why?" said Emma.

But at this moment the voice of the councilor rose to an extraordinary
pitch. He declaimed:

"This is no longer the time, gentlemen, when civil discord ensanguined
our public places, when the landlord, the business-man, the working-man
himself, falling asleep at night, lying down to peaceful sleep, trembled
lest he should be awakened suddenly by the noise of incendiary tocsins,
when the most subversive doctrines audaciously s