Horace says, and swallows up
without choice and without reflection, _gulae parens_, the most serious
productions of an artist; in the second place, the violent exercise of the
chase has developed in such guests an inordinate thirst, which they
generally slake without moderation. Now, Monsieur le Marquis is not
ignorant of the opinion of the ancients on the excessive use of wine
during meals; it blunts the taste--_ersurdant vina palatum_! Nevertheless,
Monsieur le Marquis may rest assured that I shall labor to please his
guests with my usual conscientiousness, though with the painful certainty
of not being understood."

After uttering these words, Rostain draped himself in his toga, cast to
heaven the look of an unappreciated genius, and left my study.

"I would have thought," I said to the marquis, "that you would have spared
no sacrifice to retain that great man."

"You judge me correctly, sir," replied Monsieur de Malouet; "but you'll
see that he carried me to the very limits of impossibility. Precisely a
week ago, Monsieur Rostain, having solicited a private audience, announced
to me that he found himself under the painful necessity of leaving my
service. 'Heavens! Monsieur Rostain to leave my service! And where do you
expect to go?' 'To Paris.' 'What! to Paris! But you had shaken upon the
great Babylon the dust of your sandals! The decadence of taste, the
increasing development of the romantic cuisine! Such are your own words,
Rostain!' He replied: 'Doubtless, Monsieur le Marquis; but provincial life
has bitter trials which I had not foreseen!' I offered him fabulous wages;
he refused. 'Come, my good fellow, what is the matter? Ah! I see, you
don't like the scullery-maid; she disturbs your meditations by her vulgar
songs; very well, consider her dismissed! That is not enough? Is it
Antoine, then, who is objectionable? I'll discharge him! Is it the
coachman? I'll send him away!' In short, I offered him, gentlemen, the
whole household as a holocaust. But, at all these prodigious concessions,
the old _chef_ shook his head with indifference. But finally, I exclaimed,
'in the name of Heaven, Monsieur Rostain, do explain!' 'Mon Dieu! Monsieur
le Marquis,' then said Jean Rostain, 'I must confess to you that it is
impossible for me to live in a place where I find no one to play a game of
billiards with me!' _Ma foi!_ it was a little too much!" added the
marquis, with a cheerful good-nature.

"I could not really offer to