OFTLY blew the breeze, and merrily sung the lark, when Lisardo quitted his bed-chamber at seven in the morning, and rang lustily at my outer gate for admission. So early a visitor put the whole house in commotion; nor was it without betraying some marks of peevishness and irritability that, on being informed of his arrival, I sent word by the servant to know what might be the cause of such an interruption. The reader will readily forgive this trait of harshness and precipitancy, on my part, when he is informed that I was then just enjoying the "honey dew" of sleep, after many wakeful and restless hours.
Lisardo's name was announced: and his voice, conveyed in the sound of song-singing, from the bottom of the garden, left the name of the visitor no longer in doubt. I made an effort, and sprung from my bed; and, on looking through the venetian blinds, I discovered our young bibliomaniacal convert with a book sticking out of his pocket, another half opened in his hand (upon which his eyes were occasionally cast), and a third kept firmly under his left arm. I thrust my head, "night-cap, tassel and all," out of window, and hailed him; not, however, before a delicious breeze, wafted over a bed of mignonette, had electrified me in a manner the most agreeable imaginable.
Lisardo heard, and hailed me in return. His eyes sparkled with joy; his step was quick and elastic; and an unusual degree of animation seemed to pervade his whole frame. "Here," says he, "here is The British Bibliographer[414] in my hand, a volume of Mr. Beloe's Anecdotes of Literature and Scarce Books in my pocket, while another, of Mr. D'Israeli's Curiosities of Literature, is kept snugly under my arm, as a corps de reserve, or rallying point. If these things savour not of bibliography, I must despair of ever attaining to the exalted character of a Bibliomaniac!"
[414] The British Bibliographer is a periodical publication; being a continuation of a similar work under the less popular title of The Censura Literaria; concerning which see [p. 52], ante. It is a pity that Mr. Savage does not continue his British Librarian; (of which 18 numbers are already published) as it forms a creditable supplement to Oldys's work under a similar title; vide [p. 51], ante. A few of the ensuing numbers might be well devoted to an analysis of Sir William Dugdale's works, with correct lists of the plates in the same.
"You are up betimes," said I. "What dream has disturbed your rest?" "None" replied he; "but the most delightful visions have appeared to me during my sleep. Since you left Lorenzo's, I have sipt nectar with Leland, and drunk punch with Bagford. Richard Murray has given me a copy of Rastell's Pastime of People,[415] and Thomas Britton has bequeathed to me an entire library of the Rosicrusian[416] philosophy. Moreover, the venerable form of Sir Thomas Bodley has approached me; reminding me of my solemn promise to spend a few autumnal weeks,[417] in the ensuing year, within the precincts of his grand library. In short, half the bibliomaniacs, whom Lysander so enthusiastically commended last night, have paid their devoirs to me in my dreams, and nothing could be more handsome than their conduct towards me."
[415] The reader may have met with some slight notices of this curious work in pp. [331]; [337]; [385]; [392]; [417]; ante.
This discourse awakened my friends, Lysander and Philemon; who each, from different rooms, put their heads out of window, and hailed the newly-risen sun with night caps which might have been mistaken for Persian turbans. Such an unexpected sight caused Lisardo to burst out into a fit of laughter, and to banter my guests in his usual strain of vivacity. But on our promising him that we would speedily join his peripatetic bibliographical reveries, he gave a turn towards the left, and was quickly lost in a grove of Acacia and Laurustinus. For my part, instead of keeping this promise, I instinctively sought my bed; and found the observation of Franklin,—of air-bathing being favourable to slumber,—abundantly verified—for I was hardly settled under the clothes 'ere I fell asleep: and, leaving my guests to make good their appointment with my visitor, I enjoyed a sweet slumber of more than two hours.