Bohemians of the Latin Quarter. Henri Murger
day would be spoilt for me if I did not take a stroll amongst the bookstalls."
"But will you come back?" said Schaunard.
"With the swiftness of an arrow launched by a steady hand," replied the philosopher, who loved eccentric imagery.
And he went out with Rodolphe.
"In point of fact," said Schaunard when left alone with Marcel, "instead of lolling on the sybarite's pillow, suppose I was to go out to seek some gold to appease the cupidity of Monsieur Bernard?"
"Then," said Marcel uneasily, "you still mean to move?"
"Hang it," replied Schaunard, "I must, since I have received a formal notice to quit, at a cost of five francs."
"But," said Marcel, "if you move, shall you take your furniture with you?"
"I have that idea. I will not leave a hair, as Monsieur Bernard says."
"The deuce! That will be very awkward for me," said Marcel, "since I have hired your room furnished."
"There now, that's so," replied Schaunard. "Ah! bah," he added in a melancholy tone, "there is nothing to prove that I shall find my thousand francs today, tomorrow, or even later on."
"Stop a bit," exclaimed Marcel, "I have an idea."
"Unfold it."
"This is the state of things. Legally, this lodging is mine, since I have paid a month in advance."
"The lodging, yes, but as to the furniture, if I pay, I can legally take it away, and if it were possible I would even take it away illegally."
"So that," continued Marcel, "you have furniture and no lodging, and I have lodging and no furniture."
"That is the position," observed Schaunard.
"This lodging suits me," said Marcel.
"And for my part is has never suited me better," said Schaunard.
"Well then, we can settle this business," resumed Marcel, "stay with me, I will apply house-room, and you shall supply the furniture."
"And the rent?" said Schaunard.
"Since I have some money just now I will pay it, it will be your turn next time. Think about it."
"I never think about anything, above all accepting a suggestion which suits me. Carried unanimously, in point of fact, Painting and Music are sisters."
"Sisters-in-law," observed Marcel.
At that moment Colline and Rodolphe, who had met one another, came in.
Marcel and Schaunard informed them of their partnership.
"Gentlemen," said Rodolphe, tapping his waistcoat pocket, "I am ready to stand dinner all round."
"That is just what I was going to have the honour of proposing," said Colline, taking out a gold coin which he stuck in his eye like a glass. "My prince gave me this to buy an Arabic grammar, which I have just paid six sous ready cash for."
"I," said Rodolphe, "have got the cashier of the 'Scarf of Iris' to advance me thirty francs under the pretext that I wanted it to get vaccinated."
"It is general pay-day then?" said Schaunard, "there is only myself unable to stand anything. It is humiliating."
"Meanwhile," said Rodolphe, "I maintain my offer of a dinner."
"So do I," said Colline.
"Very well," said Rodolphe, "we will toss up which shall settle the bill."
"No," said Schaunard, "I have something far better than that to offer you as a way of getting over the difficulty."
"Let us have it."
"Rodolphe shall pay for dinner, and Colline shall stand supper."
"That is what I call Solomonic jurisprudence," exclaimed the philosopher.
"It is worse than Camacho's wedding," added Marcel.
The dinner took place at a Provencal restaurant in the Rue Dauphine, celebrated for its literary waiters and its "Ayoli." As it was necessary to leave room for the supper, they ate and drank in moderation. The acquaintance, begun the evening before between Colline and Schaunard and later on with Marcel, became more intimate; each of the young fellows hoisted the flag of his artistic opinions, and all four recognized that they had like courage and similar hopes. Talking and arguing they perceived that their sympathies were akin, that they had all the same knack in that chaff which amuses without hurting, and that the virtues of youth had not left a vacant spot in their heart, easily stirred by the sight of the narration of anything noble. All four starting from the same mark to reach the same goal, they thought that there was something more than chance in their meeting, and that it might after all be Providence who thus joined their hands and whispered in their ears the evangelic motto, which should be the sole charter of humanity, "Love one another."
At the end of the repast, which closed in somewhat grave mood, Rodolphe rose to propose a toast to the future, and Colline replied in a short speech that was not taken from any book, had no pretension to style, and was merely couched in the good old dialect of simplicity, making that which is so badly delivered so well understood.
"What a donkey this philosopher is!" murmured Schaunard, whose face was buried in his glass, "here is he obliging me to put water in my wine."
After dinner they went to take coffee at the Cafe Momus, where they had already spent the preceding evening. It was from that day that the establishment in question became uninhabitable by its other frequenters.
After coffee and nips of liqueurs the Bohemian clan, definitely founded, returned to Marcel's lodging, which took the name of Schaunard's Elysium. Whilst Colline went to order the supper he had promised, the others bought squibs, crackers and other pyrotechnic materials, and before sitting down to table they let off from the windows a magnificent display of fireworks which turned the whole house topsy-turvey, and during which the four friends shouted at the top of their voices—
"Let us celebrate this happy day."
The next morning they again found themselves all four together but without seeming astonished this time. Before each going about his business they went together and breakfasted frugally at the Cafe Momus, where they made an appointment for the evening and where for a long time they were seen to return daily.
Such are the chief personages who will reappear in the episodes of which this volume is made up, a volume which is not a romance and has no other pretension than that set forth on its title-page, for the "Bohemians of the Latin Quarter" is only a series of social studies, the heroes of which belong to a class badly judged till now, whose greatest crime is lack of order, and who can even plead in excuse that this very lack of order is a necessity of the life they lead.
CHAPTER II
A GOOD ANGEL
Schaunard and Marcel, who had been grinding away valiantly a whole morning, suddenly struck work.
"Thunder and lightning! I'm hungry!" cried Schaunard. And he added carelessly, "Do we breakfast today?"
Marcel appeared much astonished at this very inopportune question.
"How long has it been the fashion to breakfast two days running?" he asked. "And yesterday was Thursday." He finished his reply by tracing with his mahl-stick the ecclesiastic ordinance:
"On Friday eat no meat,
Nor aught resembling it."
Schaunard, finding no answer, returned