We’re expecting the new doctor and his wife. Since our Polish refugee decamped, Yonville has been without a doctor.
BINET
And Yonville had great need of a doctor?
HOMAIS
Ah, I understand what you mean. No, question, I am here, and my great experiences in pharmacopeia renders me, indeed, as capable as another to give diagnoses and to battle illness with the weapons of science! But the law of 19 Ventose, Year 11, Article 1, forbids it, alas!—under the most severe penalties, the practice of medicine by any individual without specific diplomas, however capable they may be, besides their knowledge and their talent.
MADAME LEFRANÇOIS
(returning) Excuse, Mr. Binet, a short time more.
BINET
Eight minutes past six!
MADAME LEFRANÇOIS
Polyte!
HIPPLOYTE
Here I am!
MADAME LEFRANÇOIS
The cart belonging to the furniture removers remains by the large gate. Give them a hand to get it out of the way. The Hirondelle is capable of staving it in when it gets here. Do it quickly.
HIPPOLYTE
I’m on my way.
(Hippolyte and Madame Lefrançois leave.)
HOMAIS
His name’s Charles Bovary.
BINET
Who?
HOMAIS
Our new doctor. He’d been established for the last four years in Tostes, and begun to find a niche there. But it seems the climate was pernicious to his wife, and that he must, without delay, change the air. He wrote me when he learned of the departure of this poor Yanoda. Between disciples of Aesculapius, one naturally renders these services to each other. On my side, I made inquiries as you may well imagine.
BINET (to Madame Lefrançois who crosses the room)
You’ll butter my trout, won’t you, and if you have a lemon—
HOMAIS
Between ourselves, he hasn’t passed his doctorate.
BINET
Why?
HOMAIS
Mr. Bovary. He’s a simple health officer. Still, he’s said to be very capable. He’ll bleed folks like nothing, and they say he has a fist from Hell for extracting teeth. As for his wife, she’s a young woman from Ronault, the daughter of a big farmer by way of Vassonville. She received a beautiful education. She will give us a society.
BINET
What’s that to me? I don’t want to be part of their society.
HOMAIS
We’re it only in the interest of your health, allow me to observe, Mr. Binet, that you ought not to refuse yourself all distractions.
BINET
Eh! These are not distractions that I lack. I angle fish and I twist the ends of napkins.
MADAME LEFRANÇOIS (returning)
This time the place is free. Whenever you like, Mr. Binet.
HOMAIS
Bon appétit!
BINET
Servant! (he leaves)
HOMAIS
He doesn’t use his tongue for civilities!
MADAME LEFRANÇOIS
He never chats much. He came here last week. Two travelers with plenty to spare, full of wit, who told a bunch of jokes all evening till I was laughing till I cried—well, he remained there like a cod-fish without saying a word.
HOMAIS
Yes. No imagination, no witticisms, nothing of that which constitutes a man of society.
MADAME LEFRANÇOIS
Still, they say he has some means.
HOMAIS
In his profession it’s possible. Ah, when a business man has considerable relations, when a jurisconsul, a doctor, a pharmacist become so absorbed that they become fantastic and churlish, I understand it. They are described in historical tracts. But at least they think of something.. Me, for example. How many times has it happened to me that looking for my pen on my desk to write a prescription, I found I had placed it behind my ear.
(The Abbé Bournisien, a fat man with a rubicund face under graying eyes, half opens the door and remains in the doorway. Homais turns toward the fire and pretends not to see him.)
MADAME LEFRANÇOIS
Ah, Monsieur Le Curé. What can I do to help you? Would you like something? A finger of liquor?
BOURNISIEN
You are indeed nice, Madame Lefrançois, but I never take anything between my meals. I thought that the Hirondelle must have arrived by now.
MADAME LEFRANÇOIS
It always does around this time. Certainly it’s late; I don’t know why.
BOURNISIEN
Hivert should be bringing me back my umbrella that I left the other day at the convent of Ernement. Would you be nice enough to have it sent to me in the evening?
MADAME LEFRANÇOIS
You can count on it. Polyte will bring it to you without fail. (Binet calls) I’m coming.
(The Curé leaves. Madame Lefrançois comes and goes to serve Binet)
HOMAIS
Well—what do you say to this inconvenience?
MADAME LEFRANÇOIS
What inconvenience?
HOMAIS
That refusal to accept refreshment. As if these priests were not the first to go on a spree when no one sees them. It’s the most odious hypocrisy.
MADAME LEFRANÇOIS
Hypocrisy? No one is less of a hypocrite than our Curé. A fine brave man! And strong for all that. Last year he helped our folks go bring in the hay, and he carried as many as six bales at a time, he is so strong.
HOMAIS
Brave! In that case send your daughters to confession to characters with a temperament like that! As for me, if I were the government, I would bleed the priests once a month. Yes, Madame Lefrançois, every month, a large phlebotomy in the interests of the police and morals.
MADAME LEFRANÇOIS
Shut up, will you, Mr. Homais! You have no religion!
HOMAIS
I have a religion, my religion! I believe in the Supreme Being—whatever that may be doesn’t concern me much—who placed us down here to fulfill our duties as citizen and father of a family.
(Léon enters. He’s a well groomed young man with a gentle manner, unsure of himself and a bit timid. His blond curly hair brushes his face. He does all this so he can look like the portrait of a Romantic.)
HOMAIS
What do you say about it, my young friend? A good God who lodges folks in the bellies of whales! It’s not opposed to all the laws of physics? It won’t suffice to demonstrate that priests stagnate in an ignorant sloth and force populations swallow it. With them?
LÉON
You know quite well, dear sir, that I don’t meddle in politics.
A