We learn, indeed, that under the influence of
‘powerful Champaign, as they call it, a spark can no more refrain running into love than a drunken country vicar can avoid disputing of religion when his patron’s ale grows stronger than his reason.’[274]
Probably it was owing to this quality of inspiring a tendency to amativeness that ladies were sometimes expected to join in such potations.
‘She’s no mistress of mine
That drinks not her wine,
Or frowns at my friends’ drinking motions;
If my heart thou wouldst gain,
Drink thy flask of Champaign;
’Twill serve thee for paint and love-potions,’[275]
is the sentiment enunciated in chorus by four half-fuddled topers in the New Spring Gardens. At the Mulberry Gardens we find that