Lysand. Our friend and Philemon will prevent your becoming absolutely raving, by joining you. I shall be curious to know the result.
Lis. Never fear. Bibliomania is, of all species of insanity, the most rational and praise-worthy. I here solemnly renounce my former opinions, and wish my errors to be forgotten. I here crave pardon of the disturbed manes of the Martins, De Bures, and Patersons, for that flagitious act of Catalogue-Burning; and fondly hope that the unsuspecting age of boyhood will atone for so rash a deed. Do you frankly forgive—and will you henceforth consider me as a worth "Aspirant" in the noble cause of bibliography?
Lysand. Most cordially do I forgive you; and freely admit you into the fraternity of Bibliomaniacs. Philemon, I trust, will be equally merciful.
Phil. Assuredly, Lisardo, you have my entire forgiveness: and I exult a little in the hope that you will prove yourself to be a sincere convert to the cause, by losing no opportunity of enriching your bibliographical stores. Already I see you mounted, as a book chevalier, and hurrying from the country to London—from London again to the country—seeking adventures in which your prowess may be displayed—and yielding to no competitor who brandishes a lance of equal weight with your own!
Lis. 'Tis well. At to-morrow's dawn my esquire shall begin to burnish up my armour—and caparison my courser. Till then adieu!
Here the conversation, in a connected form, ceased; and it was resolved that Philemon and myself should accompany Lisardo on the morrow.
