n't bring a taste in the
mouth.' `Nay,' says poor Lorenzo de' Medici, `you must be out there,
Luigi. Here is this untainted sceptic, Matteo Franco, who wants hotter
sauce than any of us.' `Because he has a strong opinion of himself,'
flashes out Luigi, which is the original egg of all other opinion. _He_
a sceptic? He believes in the immortality of his own verses. He is
such a logician as that preaching friar who described the pavement of
the bottomless pit. Poor Luigi! his mind was like sharpest steel that
can touch nothing without cutting."

"And yet a very gentle-hearted creature," said Giannozzo Pucci. "It
seemed to me his talk was a mere blowing of soap-bubbles. What
dithyrambs he went into about eating and drinking! and yet he was as
temperate as a butterfly."

The light talk and the solid eatables were not soon at an end, for after
the roast and boiled meats came the indispensable capon and game, and,
crowning glory of a well-spread table, a peacock cooked according to the
receipt of Apicius for cooking partridges, namely, with the feathers on,
but not plucked afterwards, as that great authority ordered concerning
his partridges; on the contrary, so disposed on the dish that it might
look as much as possible like a live peacock taking its unboiled repose.
Great was the skill required in that confidential servant who was the
official carver, respectfully to turn the classical though insipid bird
on its back, and expose the plucked breast from which he was to dispense
a delicate slice to each of the honourable company, unless any one
should be of so independent a mind as to decline that expensive
toughness and prefer the vulgar digestibility of capon.

Hardly any one was so bold. Tito quoted Horace and dispersed his slice
in small particles over his plate; Bernardo Rucellai made a learned
observation about the ancient price of peacocks' eggs, but did not
pretend to eat his slice; and Niccolo Ridolfi held a mouthful on his
fork while he told a favourite story of Luigi Pulci's, about a man of
Siena, who, wanting to give a splendid entertainment at moderate
expense, bought a wild goose, cut off its beak and webbed feet, and
boiled it in its feathers, to pass for a pea-hen.

In fact, very little peacock was eaten; but there was the satisfaction
of sitting at a table where peacock was served up in a remarkable
manner, and of knowing that such caprices were not within reach of any
but those who supped with