A multitude of post-wagons and couriers were ever
on the way to bring from the remotest ends of the earth dainties for
the royal table. The bill of fare, therefore, to-day, as ever,
exhibited the choicest and rarest dishes; and always when the king
found one of his favorite ones written down he made an assenting and
approving motion of the head, which always lighted up the face of
the master of ceremonies like a sunbeam. There were birds' nests
brought from the East Indies by a fast-sailing vessel, built
specially for the purpose. There were hens from Calcutta and
truffles from Languedoc, which the poet-king, Francis the First of
France, had the day before sent to his royal brother as a special
token of affection. There was the sparkling wine of Champagne, and
the fiery wine of the Island of Cyprus, which the Republic of Venice
had sent to the king as a mark of respect. There were the heavy
wines of the Rhine, which looked like liquid gold, and diffused the
fragrance of a whole bouquet of flowers, and with which the
Protestant princes of Northern Germany hoped to fuddle the king,
whom they would have gladly placed at the head of their league.
There, too, were the monstrous, gigantic partridge pastries, which
the Duke of Burgundy had sent, and the glorious fruits of the south,
from the Spanish coast, with which the Emperor Charles the Fifth
supplied the King of England's table. For it was well known that, in
order to make the King of England propitious, it was necessary first
to satiate him; that his palate must first be tickled, in order to
gain his head or his heart.
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