An energetic, familiar expression in French often replaces the word parasite, transmitted to us by the Greeks and Romans: that expression, which conveys the same idea, is pique-assiette, an image necessarily associated with disdain and insult.
The Count de Gerval had invited to his table several persons of high distinction, among whom was remarked one of those intruders who find means to get themselves received, notwithstanding the profound contempt they inspire. The dessert was just served, and a magnificent pear attracted the attention of the parasite, who endeavoured to bear it off on the point of his knife, but, in so doing, he broke a valuable plate. “The deuce take it, sir,” said the master of the house; “piquez l’assiette as long as you like, but don’t break it!”
The guests always washed their hands, and frequently their feet, before they placed themselves on the triclinium.[B][XXXIV_19] They received that custom from the orientals, and we find numerous examples of it in the Old and New Testaments.[XXXIV_20] Perfumes were then poured on their heads,[XXXIV_21] as among the Jews,[XXXIV_22] and wreaths of flowers were offered them.[XXXIV_23]
It was at this solemn moment that the guests turned their attention to the election of the king of the banquet, whose grave functions consisted in regulating the number of cups that each one was expected to empty during the repast.[XXXIV_24]
Among the Anglo-Saxons, he who wished to drink asked the nearest person to pledge him. The latter replied affirmatively, and immediately armed himself with his knife or his sword to protect the other while he emptied his cup. The death of Edward the Martyr, it is said, gave rise to this custom. Elfrida, his mother-in-law, caused him to be basely assassinated from behind whilst he was drinking.[XXXIV_25]
“The following,” says Strutt, “according to ancient historians, is the manner in which Rowena, daughter or niece of Hengist, drank to the health of Vortigern, King of the Britons. She entered the banqueting-hall where the prince was with his guests, and, making a low curtsey, she said: ‘To your health, my lord and king.’ Then, having put the cup to her lips, she presented it on her knees to Vortigern, who took it and emptied it, after having replied: ‘I drink to your health.’ ”[XXXIV_26]
We find in the works of Pasquier an affecting anecdote of the unfortunate Queen of Scotland, Mary Stuart: “On the eve of her death,” says he, “towards the end of the supper, she drank to all her attendants, commanding them to pledge her; the which obeying, and mingling their tears with their wine, they drank to their mistress.”
Divers spectacles, of which we shall have occasion to speak hereafter, occupied the leisure of the guests during the interval necessary to remove the remains of one course and serve the next. These representations and amusements, of which they never tired in the middle ages, received from our ancestors, in France, the name of entre-mets; a designation much more true and just than the modern acceptation imposed on the word—anything served between the roast and the dessert.
The entre-mets were interludes, pantomimes, concerts, and even melodramas performed between each course. So that a piece which in our days attracts crowds to one or other of the theatres, would have been then a little entre-met, or a cold side-dish (hors-d’œuvre).
In 1287, at the marriage of Robert, son of Saint-Louis, with Machault, Countess of Artois, very singular spectacles were given between each course of the banquet. A horseman crossed the hall by making his horse walk on a thick cord, extended above the heads of the guests. At the four corners of the table were musicians seated on oxen; and monkeys, mounted on goats, seemed to play the harp.[XXXIV_27]