Part 26 (1/2)

”No, but I want to lose them,” replied Mimi. The poet was thunderstruck.

”I,” said Phemie, dancing herself on the elastic sofa, ”would rather have parfait amour; it's good for the stomach.”

Schaunard articulated, in a nasal tone, some words which made Phemie tremble on her spring foundation.

”Bah!” said Marcel, recovering himself the first. ”Let us spend a hundred francs for this once!”

”Yes,” said Rodolphe, ”they complain of our not being good customers.

Let's astonish them!”

”Ay,” said Colline, ”let us give ourselves up to the delights of a splendid banquet! Do we not owe pa.s.sive obedience to these ladies? Love lies on devotion; wine is the essence of pleasure, pleasure the duty of youth; women are flowers and must be moistened. Moisten away! Waiter, waiter!” and Colline hung upon the bell rope with feverish excitement.

Swift as the wind, the waiter came. When he heard talk of Champagne, Burgundy, and various liqueurs, his physiognomy ran through a whole gamut of astonishment. But there was more to come.

”I have a hole in my inside,” said Mimi. ”I should like some ham.”

”And I some sardines, and bread and b.u.t.ter,” struck in Musette.

”And I, radishes,” quoth Phemie, ”and a little meat with them.”

”We should have no objection,” answered they.

”Waiter!” quoth Colline, gravely, ”bring us all that is requisite for a good supper.”

The waiter turned all the colors of the rainbow. He descended slowly to the bar, and informed his master of the extraordinary orders he had received.

The landlord took it for a joke; but on a new summons from the bell, he ascended himself and addressed Colline, for whom he had a certain respect. Colline explained to him that they wished to see Christmas in at his house, and that he would oblige them by serving what they had asked for. Momus made no answer, but backed out, twisting his napkin.

For a quarter of an hour he held a consultation with his wife, who, thanks to her liberal education at the St. Denis Convent, fortunately had a weakness for arts and letters, and advised him to serve the supper.

”To be sure,” said the landlord, ”they may have money for once, by chance.”

So he told the waiter to take up whatever they asked for, and then plunged into a game of piquet with an old customer. Fatal imprudence!

From ten to twelve the waiter did nothing but run up and downstairs.

Every moment he was asked for something more. Musette would eat English fas.h.i.+on, and change her fork at every mouthful. Mimi drank all sorts of wine, in all sorts of gla.s.ses. Schaunard had a quenchless Sahara in his throat. Colline played a crossfire with his eyes, and while munching his napkin, as his habit was, kept pinching the leg of the table, which he took for Phemie's knee. Marcel and Rodolphe maintained the stirrups of self-possession, expecting the catastrophe, not without anxiety.

The stranger regarded the scene with grave curiosity; from time to time he opened his mouth as if for a smile; then you might have heard a noise like that of a window which creaks in shutting. It was the stranger laughing to himself.

At a quarter before twelve the bill was sent up. It amounted to the enormous sum of twenty five francs and three-quarters.

”Come,” said Marcel, ”we will draw lots for who shall go and diplomatize with our host. It is getting serious.” They took a set of dominoes; the highest was to go.

Unluckily, the lot fell upon Schaunard, who was an excellent virtuoso, but a very bad amba.s.sador. He arrived, too, at the bar just as the landlord had lost his third game. Momus was in a fearful bad humor, and, at Schaunard's first words, broke out into a violent rage. Schaunard was a good musician, but he had an indifferent temper, and he replied by a double discharge of slang. The dispute grew more and more bitter, till the landlord went upstairs, swearing that he would be paid, and that no one should stir until he was. Colline endeavored to interpose his pacifying oratory; but, on perceiving a napkin which Colline had made lint of, the host's anger redoubled; and to indemnify himself, he actually dared to lay profane hands on the philosopher's hazel overcoat and the ladies' shawls.

A volley of abuse was interchanged by the Bohemians and the irate landlord.

The women talked to one another of their dresses and their conquests.