rom them, and sometimes making observations in the margin with a
pencil. Whenever a very curious passage occurred, he would take out a
small memorandum book, and put on a pair of large tortoise-shell
spectacles, with powerful magnifying glasses, in order to insert this
passage with particular care and neatness. He usually concluded his
evening amusements by sleeping in the very bed in which Ferdinand had
been lying.

Such intelligence only sharpened the curiosity, and increased the
restlessness, of poor Ferdinand. He retired to this said
bibliomaniacal bed, but not to repose. The morning sun-beams, which
irradiated the book-case with complete effect, shone upon his pallid
countenance and thoughtful brow. He rose at five: walked in the
meadows till seven; returned and breakfasted--stole up stairs to take
a farewell peep at his beloved _Morte d'Arthur_--sighed "three times
and more"--paid his reckoning; apologised for the night's adventure;
told the landlady he would shortly come and visit her again, and try
to pay his respects to the anonymous old gentleman. "Meanwhile," said
he, "I will leave no bookseller's shop in the neighbourhood unvisited,
'till I gain intelligence of his name and character." The landlady
eyed him steadily; took a pinch of snuff with a significant air; and,
returning, with a smile of triumph, to her kitchen, thanked her stars
that she had got rid of such a madman!

Ladies and gentlemen, I have done.

LIS. And creditably done, too!

ALMAN. If this be a specimen of your previous conversation, we know
not what we have lost by our absence. But I suspect, that the
principal ingredient of poetry, fiction, has a little aided in the
embellishment of your story.

BELIN. This is not very gallant or complimentary on your part,
Almansa. I harbour no suspicion of its verity; for marvellous things
have been told me, by my brother, of the whimsical phrensies of
book-fanciers.

LOREN. If you will only listen a little to Lysander's _sequel_, you
will hear almost equally marvellous things; which I suspect my
liberally minded sister, Almansa, will put down to the score of
poetical embellishment. But I see she is conscious of her treasonable
aspersions of the noble character of bibliomaniacs, and is only
anxious for Lysander to resume.

ALMAN. Sir, I entreat you to finish your HISTORY OF BIBLIOMANIACS.
Your friend, Philemon, has regaled us with an entertaining episode,
and you have probably, by this time, re