ing to laugh_) I'm glad, very glad!

RUD. (_aside_) You humbug, you! You're fretting and fuming!

MAR. It beats not! Bravo!
(_commences to paint with great vigor_)
Then I saw, too--

RUD. Musetta?

MAR. Mimi.

RUD. You saw her? How strange! (stops painting)

MAR. Rode in her carriage in grand apparel.
Just like a duchess.

RUD. Delightful! I'm glad to hear it.

MAR. (_aside_) You liar! you're pining with love.

RUD. and MAR. Now to work! (_they go on working_)

RUD. (_throwing down his pen_) This pen's too awful!
(_remains seated, apparently lost in thought_)

MAR. (_flinging away his brush_) This infamous paint-brush!
(_Stares at his canvas, and then without RUDOLPH observing it, he
takes from his pocket a bunch of ribbons and kisses it._)

RUD. Ah! Mimi! false, fickle-hearted!
Ah! beauteous days departed!
Those hands so dainty!
Oh! fragrant, shining tresses!
Ah! snow-white bosom!
Ah! Mimi! those brief, glad, golden days!

MAR. (_putting away his ribbons and staring anew at his canvas_)
How is it that my brush
With speed mechanical keeps moving,
And plasters on the colors
Quite against my will?
And though I would be painting landscapes,
Meadows, woodlands fair in Spring-tide,
My brush refuses to perform its office;
But paints dark eyes, and two red, smiling lips;
The features of Musetta haunt me still!

RUD. (_taking_ Mimi's _old bonnet from the table drawer_)
And thou, O! rose-pink bonnet,
That 'neath her pillow lay,
That in her hour of parting she forgot--Thou
wert the witness of our joy!
Come to my heart, ah! come!
Lie close against my heart, since my love is dead!
(_clasps the bonnet to his heart_)

MAR. Ah! frivolous Musetta! thee can I ne'er forget!
My grief affords her pleasure,
And yet my weak heart is fain
To call her to my fond arms again.

RUD. (_endeavoring to conceal his emotion from_ Marcel, _carelessly
questions him_) What time is it now?

MAR. (_roused from his reverie, gaily replies_) Time for our
yesterday's dinner.

RUD. But Schaunard's not back yet. (_Enter Schaunard_ _and_ Colline;
_the former carries four rolls, and the latter a paper bag._)

SCH. Here we are!

RUD. How now?

MAR. How now?

(SCHAUNARD _places the rolls on the table._)

MAR. (_disdainfully_) Some bread!

COL. (_taking a herring out of the bag, and putting it on the table_)
A dish that's worthy of Demosthenes:
'Tis a herring!

SCH. 'Tis salted!

COL. 'Our dinner is ready!
(_Seating