Phil. Indeed I agree with Lorenzo: for Lysander has surpassed, in prolixity, the reputation of any orator within St. Stephen's chapel. It only remains to eclipse, in a similar manner, the speeches which were delivered at Hardy's trial—and then he may be called the Nonpareil of orators!
Lysand. If you banter me, I am dumb. Nor did I know that there was any thing of eloquence in my chit-chat. If Lisardo had had my experience, we might then have witnessed some glittering exhibitions of imagination in the book-way!
Lis. My most excellent friend, I will strive to obtain this experience, since you are pleased to compliment me upon what I was not conscious of possessing—But, in truth, Lysander, our obligations to you are infinite.
Lysand. No more; unless you are weary of this discourse—
Phil. Lis. Weary!?
Loren. Let me here exercise my undeniable authority. A sandwich, like the evening rain after a parching day, will recruit Lysander's exhausted strength. What say you?
Lysand. "I shall in all things obey your high command." But hark—I hear the outer gate bell ring! The ladies are arrived: and you know my bashfulness in female society. Adieu, Bibliomania! 'till the morrow.
Loren. Nay, you are drawing too dismal conclusions. My sisters are not sworn enemies to this kind of discourse.
The arrival of Almansa and Belinda, the sisters of Lorenzo put a stop to the conversation. So abrupt a silence disconcerted the ladies; who, in a sudden, but, it must be confessed, rather taunting, strain—asked whether they should order their bed-chamber candlesticks, and retire to rest?