Bohemia; or, La Bohème. Henry Murger

lend us some place settings and silverware?

      Rodolphe

      Sir, if you want to wait, I’ll ring. I will go find a bell. You’re an artist, monsieur?

      Marcel

      Yes, monsieur.

      Rodolphe

      Painter.

      Marcel

      It’s you who said it.

      Rodolphe

      Of what school?

      Marcel

      Of my own.

      Rodolphe

      I congratulate you on it.

      Marcel

      And me, too, monsieur.

      Rodolphe

      And your name is?

      Marcel

      Marcel, to serve you.

      Rodolphe

      And as for my name—Rodolphe, to be agreeable to you.

      Marcel

      This nest belongs to you?

      Rodolphe

      Not the least bit. I am the nest’s nephew. Take the trouble to fall this way.

      Marcel

      This doesn’t disturb you?

      Rodolphe

      Not at all.

      Marcel (jumping)

      Allow me to offer you my hand—it’s all I have on me.

      Rodolphe

      Willingly—but on condition that you offer it also to those pretty persons who sing so well.

      Marcel

      I can refuse nothing to you, monsieur. (calling) Hey, Musette, you are invited to enter by scaling—

      (Orchestra music.)

      Musette (appearing on the balustrade)

      Here I am.

      (Musette pulls up her dress a little and shows a bit of her leg as she climbs over. Rodolphe runs to help her.)

      Rodolphe

      By God, there’s a pretty leg. I must offer my arm.

      Musette

      The gentleman sells madrigals.

      Rodolphe

      Yes, madame.

      Musette

      And you get paid for it?

      Rodolphe (kissing her hand)

      In cash!

      Marcel (taking Musette’s hand)

      Allow me to present her to you more formally. Miss Musette—twenty-two years old.

      Musette

      In six months.

      Marcel

      A charming girl who’s only defect is to lose the key to her heart too often. All the same, I have nothing to complain of—that’s how I found shelter one rainy day.

      Musette (low to Marcel, pointing to Rodolphe)

      He’s sweet!

      Marcel (to Rodolphe)

      She thinks you’re sweet. That’s the beginning—impossible to tell where it will end.

      (Rodolphe offers a chair to Musette. Schaunard appears on the support of the balustrade.)

      Schaunard

      Hey! Marcel! I can’t find Musette any more. I think she fell into her cup.

      Marcel

      Don’t worry, faithful friend. Climb in. (Schaunard climbs in) Monsieur Schaunard, orphan by vocation, painter by taste, musician to do something and poet with nothing to do. Spending half his life in search of money to pay his creditors and the other half in fleeing his creditors when he has found money.

      Schaunard (bowing)

      The scheme is faithful like a poodle. But you are seeing only half of myself. Allow me to present the other half. Phemie!

      (Phemie appears and Schaunard helps her down.)

      Marcel

      Miss Phemie—a devoted wife—when she’s dined.

      Rodolphe (offering a chair to Phemie)

      Miss—

      Phemie

      Very grateful, monsieur, I am not yet tired.

      (Phemie sits near Musette.)

      Schaunard (with severity)

      Phemie! Please excuse her, monsieur. She comes from—I met her in a forest.

      Rodolphe

      Virgin forest?

      (Schaunard sneezes. Colline appears.)

      Marcel (indicating Colline to Rodolphe)

      Don’t be worried, monsieur, that’s all of us. Monsieur Gustave Colline, philosopher, the treasurer of the society, a sinecure.

      (They all come forward.)

      Rodolphe

      Ladies and gentlemen.

      All

      Listen.

      Rodolphe

      Please believe in my sympathy.

      Marcel

      And—

      Rodolphe

      The speech is over.

      Phemie (rising)

      Bravo!

      Musette

      It’s in very good taste—it’s not long.

      Schaunard

      Pardon, monsieur. I have to ask some information of you.

      Rodolphe

      Speak, monsieur.

      Schaunard

      Could you tell me where they put the tobacco in this house?

      Rodolphe

      Here, monsieur. (pointing to his pocket and offering tobacco to Schaunard who fills his pipe) You’ve got a nice looking pipe, Monsieur Schaunard.

      Schaunard (negligently)

      I don’t have a prettier one to suit me in the world.

      Musette (to Rodolphe)

      Sir, would it be indiscreet to ask your permission to pick some flowers from the garden?

      Phemie

      And some apricots?

      Rodolphe

      What do you think?

      (The ladies come forward.)

      Colline

      Sir, if you will allow me, I will accompany these ladies to do a little botany.

      (The ladies pick flowers and put them in Colline’s arms.)

      Musette (laughing)

      This may embarrass you!

      Colline

      Oh, no, I assure you. (going to a bench and depositing everything at the foot of a tree) Look a bit. (pulls several books from his pocket) Botany—that’s what I need.

      Musette

      We