MIMI. (approaching the window) Who are they?

RUD.  My friends.

SCH.  You will know they’re yours.

MAR.  What do you there, so lonely?

RUD.  I’m not lonely.  We are two. 
So to Momus go on. 
There keep us places; we will follow quickly.

(Remains still at the window to make sure of his friends going.)

MAR., SCH. and COL. (gradually departing)
Momus, Momus, Momus! 
Gently and soft to supper let us go.

MAR.  And poetry let flow.

SCH. and COL.  Momus, Momus, Momus!

(MIMI goes nearer the window, so that the moon’s rays fall on her while RUDOLPH contemplates her ecstatically.)

RUD.  Lovely maid in the moonlight!

MAR.  And poetry let flow.

RUD.  Your face entrancing. 
Like radiant seraph from on high appears! 
The dream that I would ever, ever dream, returns.

RUD.                               | MIMI.
|
| Love alone o’er hearts has sway
Heart to heart and soul to soul    | Ah Love! to thee do we surrender. 
Love binds us in his fetters.      |  (yielding to her lover’s
(placing his arm around MIMI_         embrace_)
Love now shall rule our hearts     | Sweet to my soul the magic voice
alone,                            | Of love its music chanteth,
Life’s fairest flower is love!     | Life’s fairest flower is love! 
Life’s fairest flower is love!     |   (RUDOLPH kisses her.)

MIMI. (disengaging herself) No, I pray you!

RUD.  My sweetheart!

MIMI.  Your comrades await you!

RUD.  Do you then dismiss me?

MIMI.  I should like—­no, I dare not!

RUD.  Say!

MIMI. (coquettishly) Could I not come with you?

RUD.  What, Mimi? 
It would be much more pleasant here to stay. 
Outside ’tis chilly!

MIMI.  To you I’ll be neighbor!  I’ll be always near you.

RUD.  On returning?

MIMI. (archly) Who knows, sir?

RUD.  Take my arm, my little maiden!

MIMI. (giving her arm to RUDOLPH) I obey you, my lord!

(They go, arm in arm, to the door.)

RUD.  You love me?  Say!

MIMI. (with abandon)
I love thee!

RUD. and MIMI.  My love!  My love!

ACT II

“...Gustave Colline, the great philosopher; Marcel, the great painter; Rudolph, the great poet, and Schaunard, the great musician —­as they were wont to style them selves—­regularly frequented the Cafe Momus, where, being inseparable, they were nicknamed ’The Four Musketeers.’

“Indeed, they always went about together, played together, dined together, often without paying the bill, yet always with a beautiful harmony worthy of the Conservatoire Orchestra.

“Mademoiselle Musetta was a pretty girl of twenty.