nows no bounds; he aspires to be
'hail-fellow-well-met' with us."

"That is to say," answered Marcel, "he wishes to speculate upon us, and
to be seen riding in our carriages."

"What is his profession?" asked Rodolphe.

"Yes," said Marcel, "what does he play on?"

"Literature and mixed philosophy. He calls art a priesthood."

"A priesthood!" cried Rodolphe, in terror.

"So he says."

"And what is his road in literature?"

"He goes after 'Telemachus'."

"Very good," said Schaunard, eating the seed of his artichoke.

"Very good! You dummy!" broke our Marcel. "I advise you not to say that
in the street."

Schaunard relieved his annoyance at this reproof by kicking Phemie under
the table for taking some of his sauce.

"Once more," said Rodolphe. "What is his condition in the world? What
does he live on, and where does he live? And what is his name?"

"His station is honorable. He is professor of everything in a rich
family. His name is Carolus Barbemuche. He spends his income in
luxurious living and dwells in the Rue Royale."

"Furnished lodging?"

"No, there is real furniture."

"I claim the floor," said Marcel. "To me it is evident that Colline has
been corrupted. He has already sold his vote for so many drinks. Don't
interrupt me! (Colline was rising to protest.) You shall have your
turn. Colline, mercenary soul that he is, has presented to you this
stranger under an aspect too favorable to be true. I told you before; I
see through this person's designs. He wants to speculate on us. He says
to himself, 'Here are some chaps making their way. I must get into their
pockets. I shall arrive with them at the goal of fame.'"

"Bravo!" quoth Schaunard, "have you any more sauce there?"

"No," replied Rodolphe, "the edition is out of print."

"Looking at the question from another point of view," continued Marcel,
"this insidious mortal whom Colline patronizes, perhaps aspires to our
intimacy only from the most culpable motives. Gentlemen, we are not
alone here!" continued the orator, with an eloquent look at the women.
"And Colline's client, smuggling himself into our circle under the cloak
of literature, may perchance be but a vile seducer. Reflect! For one, I
vote against his reception."

"I demand the floor," said Rodolphe, "only for a correction. In his
remarkable extemporary speech, Marcel has said that this Carolus, with
the view of dishonoring us, wished to introduce himself under the cloak
of lite