of a King to collect at his table the delicacies of all lands.
Let the Danube send us her carp, let the _anchorago_ (?) come from the
Rhine, let the labour of Sicily furnish the _exormiston_[809], let the
sea of Bruttii send its sweet _acerniae_ (?); in short, let
well-flavoured dishes be gathered from all coasts. It becomes a King
so to regale himself that he may seem to foreign ambassadors to
possess almost everything.

[Footnote 809: 'Perhaps a kind of lamprey' (White and Riddle's
Latin-English Dictionary).]

'And therefore, not to neglect home-produce also, as our fertile Italy
is especially rich in wines, we must have these also provided for the
King's table. Now the report of the Count of the Patrimony informs us
that the stock of _Acinaticium_[810] has fallen very low in the royal
cellars. We therefore order you to visit the cultivators of Verona,
and offer them a sufficient price for this product of theirs, which
they ought to offer without price to their Sovereign.

[Footnote 810: Apparently a kind of raisin wine; from _acina_, a grape
or berry.]

'It is in truth a noble wine and one that Italy may be proud of.
Inglorious Greece may doctor her wines with foreign admixtures, or
disguise them with perfumes. There is no need of any such process with
this liquor. It is purple, as becomes the wine of kings. Sweet and
strong[811], it grows more dense in tasting it, so that you might
doubt whether it was a liquid food or an edible drink[812].

[Footnote 811: What are we to make of 'Stipsis nescio qua firmitate
roboratur?']

[Footnote 812: 'Tactus ejus densitate pinguescit: ut dicas esse aut
carneum liquorem aut edibilem potionem.' Questionable praise,
according to the ideas of a modern wine-grower.]

'I have a mind to describe the singular mode of manufacturing this
wine. The grape cluster, gathered in autumn, is hung up under the roof
of the house to dry till December. Thus exuding its insipid humours it
becomes much sweeter. Then in December, when everything else is bound
by the frost of winter, the chilly blood of these grapes is allowed to
flow forth. It is not insultingly trodden down by the feet, nor is any
foul admixture suffered to pollute it; its stream of gem-like
clearness is drawn forth from it by a noble provocation. It seems to
shed tears of joy, and delights the eye by its beauty as much as the
palate by its flavour. Collect this wine as speedily as possible, pay
a sufficient price for it, and