ne of
his principal artists, and Cornelius the son of a freedman of a Roman of
distinction, who had lately got a place in one of the _scrinia_ of the
proconsular _officium_, and had migrated into the province from the
imperial city where he had spent his best days.
The dinner had not been altogether suitable to modern ideas of good
living. The grapes from Tacape, and the dates from the lake Tritonis, the
white and black figs, the nectarines and peaches, and the watermelons,
address themselves to the imagination of an Englishman, as well as of an
African of the third century. So also might the liquor derived from the
sap or honey of the Getulian palm, and the sweet wine, called _melilotus_,
made from the poetical fruit found upon the coast of the Syrtis. He would
have been struck, too, with the sweetness of the mutton; but he would have
asked what the sheep's tails were before he tasted them, and found how
like marrow the firm substance ate of which they consisted. He would have
felt he ought to admire the roes of mullets, pressed and dried, from
Mauritania; but he would have thought twice before he tried the lion
cutlets though they had the flavour of veal, and the additional _gout_ of
being imperial property, and poached from a preserve. But when he saw the
indigenous dish, the very haggis and cock-a-leekie of Africa, in the shape
of--(alas! alas! it _must_ be said, with whatever apology for its
introduction)--in shape, then, of a delicate puppy, served up with
tomatoes, with its head between its fore-paws, we consider he would have
risen from the unholy table, and thought he had fallen upon the
hospitality of some sorceress of the neighbouring forest. However, to that
festive board our Briton was not invited, for he had some previous
engagement that evening, either of painting himself with woad, or of
hiding himself to the chin in the fens; so that nothing occurred to
disturb the harmony of the party, and the good humour and easy
conversation which was the effect of such excellent cheer.
Cornelius had been present at the Secular Games in the foregoing year, and
was full of them, of Rome, and of himself in connection with it, as became
so genuine a cockney of the imperial period. He was full of the high
patriotic thoughts which so solemn a celebration had kindled within him.
"O great Rome!" he said, "thou art first, and there is no second. In that
wonderful pageant which these eyes saw last year was embodied her maje
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