Page:The Bohemians of the Latin Quarter.djvu/268

“Push on, Medicis,” said Marcel, exhibiting his picture: “I wish to leave you the honor of fixing the price of this work, which is above all price.”

The Jew placed on the table a hundred and fifty francs in new coin.

“Well, what more?” said Marcel: “that’s only the prologue.”

“Monsieur Marcel,” replied the Jew, “you know that my first offer is my last. I shall add nothing. Reflect: a hundred and fifty francs: that is a sum, it is!”

“A very small sum,” said the artist; “there is that much worth of cobalt in my Pharoah’s robe. Make it a round sum, at any rate! Square it off; say two hundred!”

“I won’t add a sou!” said Medicis; “but I stand dinner for the company; wine to any extent.”

“Going! going! going!” shouted Colline, with three blows of his first on the table, no one speaks?—gone!”

“Well, it’s a bargain!” said Marcel.

“I will send for the picture to-morrow,” said the Jew; “and now, gentlemen, to dinner!”

The four friends descended the staircase, singing the chorus of “The Huguenots”—“A table, a table!”

Medicis treated the Bohemians in a really magnificent way, and gave them their choice of a number of dishes, which until then were completely unknown to them. Henceforward hot lobster ceased to be a myth with Schaunard, who contracted a passion for it that bordered on delirium. The four friends departed from the gorgeous banquet as drunk as a vintage-day. Marcel’s intoxication was near having the most deplorable consequences. In passing by his tailor’s, at two in the morning, he absolutely wanted to wake up his creditor, and pay him the hundred and fifty francs on account. A ray of reason which flashed