Act I. The garret in the Latin Quarter, where live the inseparable

quartet--_Rudolph_, poet; _Marcel_, painter; _Colline_, philosopher; _Schaunard_, musician, who defy hunger with cheerfulness and play pranks upon the landlord of their meagre lodging, when he importunes them for his rent.

When the act opens, _Rudolph_ is at a table writing, and _Marcel_ is at work on a painting, "The Passage of the Red Sea." He remarks that, owing to lack of fuel for the garret stove, the Red Sea is rather cold.

"Questo mar rosso" (This Red Sea), runs the duet, in the course of which _Rudolph_ says that he will sacrifice the manuscript of his tragedy to the needs of the stove. They tear up the first act, throw it into the stove, and light it. _Colline_ comes in with a bundle of books he has vainly been attempting to pawn. Another act of the tragedy goes into the fire, by which they warm themselves, still hungry.

But relief is nigh. Two boys enter. They bring provisions and fuel. After them comes _Schaunard_. He tosses money on the table. The boys leave. In vain _Schaunard_ tries to tell his friends the ludicrous details of his three-days' musical engagement to an eccentric Englishman. It is enough for them that it has yielded fuel and food, and that some money is left over for the immediate future. Between their noise in stoking the stove and unpacking the provisions, _Schaunard_ cannot make himself heard.

_Rudolph_ locks the door. Then all go to the table and pour out wine. It is Christmas eve. _Schaunard_ suggests that, when they have emptied their glasses, they repair to their favourite resort, the Café Momus, and dine. Agreed. Just then there is a knock. It is _Benoit_, their landlord, for the rent. They let him in and invite him to drink with them. The sight of the money on the table reassures him. He joins them. The wine loosens his tongue. He boasts of his conquests of women at shady resorts. The four friends feign indignation. What! He, a married man, engaged in such disreputable proceedings! They seize him, lift him to his feet, and eject him, locking the door after him.

The money on the table was earned by _Schaunard_, but, according to their custom, they divide it. Now, off for the Café Momus--that is, all but _Rudolph_, who will join them soon--when he has finished an article he has to write for a new journal, the _Beaver_. He stands on the landing with a lighted candle to aid the others in making their way down the rickety stairs.

With little that can be designated as set melody, there nevertheless has not been a dull moment in the music of these scenes. It has been brisk, merry and sparkling, in keeping with the careless gayety of the four dwellers in the garret.

Re-entering the room, and closing the door after him, _Rudolph_ clears a space on the table for pens and paper, then sits down to write. Ideas are slow in coming. Moreover, at that moment, there is a timid knock at the door.

"Who's there?" he calls.

It is a woman's voice that says, hesitatingly, "Excuse me, my candle has gone out."

_Rudolph_ runs to the door, and opens it. On the threshold stands a frail, appealingly attractive young woman. She has in one hand an extinguished candle, in the other a key. _Rudolph_ bids her come in. She crosses the threshold. A woman of haunting sweetness in aspect and manner has entered Bohemia.

She lights her candle by his, but, as she is about to leave, the draught again extinguishes it. _Rudolph's_ candle also is blown out, as he hastens to relight hers. The room is dark, save for the moonlight that, over the snow-clad roofs of Paris, steals in through the garret window. _Mimi_ exclaims that she has dropped the key to the door of her room. They search for it. He finds it but slips it into his pocket. Guided by _Mimi's_ voice and movements, he approaches. As she stoops, his hand meets hers. He clasps it.

"Che gelida manina" (How cold your hand), he exclaims with tender solicitude. "Let me warm it into life." He then tells her who he is, in what has become known as the "Racconto di Rodolfo" (Rudolph's Narrative), which, from the gentle and solicitous phrase, "Che gelida manina," followed by the proud exclamation, "Sono un poeta" (I am a poet), leads up to an eloquent avowal of his dreams and fancies. Then comes the girl's charming "Mi chiamano Mimi" (They call me Mimi), in which she tells of her work and how the flowers she embroiders for a living transport her from her narrow room out into the broad fields and meadows. "Mi chiamano Mimi" is as follows:--

[Music]

Her frailty, which one can see is caused by consumption in its early stages, makes her beauty the more appealing to _Rudolph_.

His friends call him from the street below. Their voices draw _Mimi_ to the window. In the moonlight she appears even lovelier to _Rudolph_. "O soave fanciulla" (Thou beauteous maiden), he exclaims, as he takes her to his arms. This is the beginning of the love duet, which, though it be sung in a garret, is as impassioned as any that, in opera, has echoed through the corridors of palaces, or the moonlit colonnades of forests by historic rivers. The theme is quoted here in the key, in which it occurs, like a premonition, a little earlier in the act.

[Music]

The theme of the love duet is used by the composer several times in the course of the opera, and always in association with _Mimi_. Especially in the last act does it recur with poignant effect.