fastidiousness as to sundry local details; albeit in the scenic development of the opera they have followed Murger's method of dividing the libretto into four separate acts, in the dramatic and comic episodes they have claimed that ample and entire freedom of action, which, rightly or wrongly, they deemed necessary to the proper scenic presentment of a novel the most free, perhaps, in modern literature.

Yet, in this strange book, if the characters of each person therein stand out clear and sharply defined, we often may perceive that one and the same temperament bears different names, and that it is incarnated, so to speak, in two different persons. Who cannot detect in the delicate profile of one woman the personality both of Mimi and of Francine? Who, as he reads of Mimi's "little hands, whiter than those of the Goddess of Ease," is not reminded of Francine's little muff?

The authors deem it their duty to point out this identity of character. It has seemed to them that these two mirthful, fragile, and unhappy creatures in this comedy of Bohemian life might haply figure as one person, whose name should not be Mimi, not Francine, but "the Ideal."]

ACT I

"…Mimi was a charming girl specially apt to appeal to Rudolph, the poet and dreamer. Aged twenty-two, she was slight and graceful. Her face reminded one of some sketch of high-born beauty; its features had marvellous refinement.

"The hot, impetuous blood of youth coursed through her veins, giving a rosy hue to her clear complexion that had the white velvety bloom of the camellia.

"This frail beauty allured Rudolph. But what wholly served to enchant him were Mimi's tiny hands, that, despite her household duties, she contrived to keep whiter even than the Goddess of Ease."

ACT I

IN THE ATTIC

Spacious window, from which one sees an expanse of snow-clad roofs. On left, a fireplace, a table, small cupboard, a little book-case, four chairs, a picture easel, a bed, a few books, many packs of cards, two candlesticks. Door in the middle, another on left.

Curtain rises quickly

RUDOLPH and MARCEL. RUDOLPH looks pensively out of the window. MARCEL works at his painting, "The Passage of the Red Sea," with hands nipped with cold, and warms them by blowing on them from time to time, often changing position on account of the frost.

MAR. (seated, continuing to paint)
This Red Sea passage feels as damp and chill to me
As if adown my back a stream were flowing.

(Goes a little way back from the easel to look at the picture.)

But in revenge a Pharaoh will I drown.

(Turning to his work.)

And you? (to RUDOLPH)

RUD. (pointing to the tireless stove)
Lazily rising, see how the smoke
From thousands of chimneys floats upward!
And yet that stove of ours
No fuel seems to need, the idle rascal,
Content to live in ease, just like a lord!

MAR. 'Tis now a good, long while since we paid his lawful wages.

RUD. Of what use are the forests all white under the snow?

MAR. Now Rudolph, let me tell you
A fact that overcomes me,
I'm simply frozen!

RUD. (approaching MARCEL)
And I, Marcel, to be quite candid,
I've no faith in the sweat of my brow.

MAR. All my fingers are frozen
Just as if they'd been touching that iceberg,
Touching that block of marble, the heart of false Musetta.

(Heaves a long sigh, laying aside his palette and brushes, and ceases painting.)

RUD. Ah! love's a stove consuming a deal of fuel!

MAR. Too quickly.

RUD. Where the man does the burning.

MAR. And the woman the lighting.

RUD. While the one turns to ashes.

MAR. So the other stands and watches.

RUD. Meanwhile, in here we're frozen.

MAR. And we're dying of hunger.

RUD. A fire must be lighted.

MAR. (seizing a chair and about to break it up)
I have it,
This crazy chair shall save us!

(RUDOLPH energetically resists MARCEL'S project.)

RUD. (joyous at an idea that has seized him)
Eureka!

(Runs to the table and from below it lifts a bulky manuscript.)

MAR. You've found it?

RUD. Yes. When genius is roused ideas come fast in flashes.

MAR. (pointing to his picture)
Let's burn up the "Red Sea."

RUD. No: think what a stench 'twould occasion!
But my drama, my beautiful drama shall give us warmth.

MAR. (with comic terror)
Intend you to read it?
Twill chill us!

RUD. No. The paper in flame shall be burning,
The soul to its heaven returning. (with tragic emphasis)
Great loss! but the world yet must bear it,
When Rome is in peril!

MAR. Great soul!

RUD. (_giving MARCEL a portion of the MS._)
Here, take the first act.

MAR. Well?

RUD. Tear it.

MAR. And light it.

(RUDOLPH strikes a flint on steel, lights a candle, and goes to the stove with MARCEL; together they set fire to a part of the MS. thrown into the fireplace; then both draw up their chairs and sit down, delightedly warming themselves.)

RUD. How joyous the rays!

MAR. How cheerful the blaze!

(The door at the back opens violently, and COLLINE enters frozen and nipped up, stamping his feet, and throwing angrily on the table a bundle of books tied up in a handkerchief.)

COL. Surely miracles apocalyptic are dawning!
For Christmas eve they honor by allowing no pawning!

(Checks himself, seeing a fire in the stove.)

See I a fire here?

RUD. (to COLLINE) Gently, it is my drama.

COL. In blazes!
I find it very sparkling.

RUD. Brilliant! (the fire languishes)

COL. Too short its phrases.

RUD. Brevity's deemed a treasure.

COL. (taking the chair from RUDOLPH)
Your chair pray give me, author.

MAR. These foolish entr'actes merely make us shiver. Quickly!

RUD. (taking another portion of the MS.) Here is the next act.

MAR. (to COLLINE) Hush! not a whisper.

(RUDOLPH tears up the MS. and throws it into the fireplace; the flames revive. COLLINE moves his chair nearer and warms his hands. RUDOLPH is standing near the two with the rest of the MS.)

COL. How deep the thought is!

MAR. Color how true!

RUD. In that blue smoke my drama is dying
Full of its love-scenes ardent and new.

COL. A leaf see crackle!

MAR. Those were all the kisses.

RUD. (throwing the remaining MS. on the fire)
Three acts at once I desire to hear.

COL. Only the daring can dream such