(holding Mimi's hand, with emotion) Your tiny hand is frozen, Let me warm it into life; Our search is useless, In darkness all is hidden, 'Ere long the light of the moon shall aid us, Yes, in the moonlight our search let us resume. One moment, pretty maiden, While I tell you in a trice, Who I am, what I do, And how I live. Shall I? (Mimi is silent.) I am, I am a poet! What's my employment? Writing. Is that a living? Hardly. I've wit though wealth be wanting, Ladies of rank and fashion All inspire me with passion; In dreams and fond illusions, Or castles in the air, Richer is none on earth than I. Bright eyes as yours, believe me, Steal my priceless jewels, In fancy's store-house cherished, Your roguish eyes have robbed me, Of all my dreams bereft me, Dreams that are fair, yet fleeting. Fled are my truant fancies, Regrets I do not cherish, For now life's rosy morn is breaking, Now golden love is waking. Now that I've told my story, Pray tell me yours, too; Tell me frankly, who are you? Say, will you tell?

Rud Monologue from Libretto: La Bohème

Rehearse Rud's monologue