"No, my Lady Duchess, no! I am no orator, and, I thank God, no politician! I am no great man, albeit I am a peer spiritual, and so forth; therefore my praise on that score can be of but little value indeed!"
"Not so, my Lord, the praise of a good man ever is of value."
The bishop bowed. His Lordship next proposed a walk in his garden; and then they adjourned to Chester walls, which closely adjoin the palace, to promenade until dinner. Adelaide looked to the left and right, but "the unknown knight of Chester walls" was not to be seen. Upon their return to the episcopal palace dinner was ready, and soon smoked upon the hospitable board. It was a sumptuous entertainment. The bishop having helped the ladies, soon discovered that Sir Patricius was in complete possession of the scavoir vivre.
"I warmly recommend you; Sir Placebo—Sir Patricius, I beg your pardon—to have some Severn salmon, or some choice dories, caught in the Llyn; and I do think, above all, that I can speak in positive commendation of some stewed carp, which is truly delicious. I saw them caught yesterday (for I am fond of fishing) in that Piscosus amnis, which we call the Vyrnyn."
"No, my Lord, I thank you, I have just made a grand assault, vi et furca, upon your venison, which is actually the finest I have ever enjoyed. The lean is so ruddy and the fat is so white, that I think, my Lord, I shall just try a modicum more, [the fourth time he was helped!] and some sweet sauce withal!"
Indeed the opinion and "great capabilities," to use his own phrase, of Sir Patricius Placebo, at a well-chosen dinner, were never yet, even by his enemies, considered as apocryphal; and in the culinary calendar this notable day was deserving of a mark of approbation, and should be held in savoury remembrance by every follower of Epicurus. The first and second course removed, cheese was put down, to which Sir Patricius helped himself liberally.
"My Lord, your Cheshire is positively excellent. We are indebted to the victorious Colonia Devana for it. To these same Roman centurions who introduced the art of cheese-making, until then unknown in England, into Cheshire; and for my part, my Lord; to adventure upon a pun, I would call this admirable cheese divina.—Ha, ha, ha! It is every way deserving of the Cretâ notanda of Horace, or the Cretâ notare of Persius: it should truly be marked with white chalk in the calendar!"
"It seems, Sir Patricius, that you are disposed to chalk your cheese with a note of admiration!—eh? Ha, ha, ha. However, I certainly agree with you that the art of cheese-making to be the most valuable memorial which the Romans have left us, and in an especial manner to this country. Indeed so extensively was cheese-making carried on that these cohorts exported large quantities of cheese, not only to the distant colonies, but even to imperial Rome herself!"
"Most true, my Lord; and to such perfection has it been brought, that it is now (me judice) far superior to any imported from classic Italy, or dull, plodding Batavia. Centuries have passed by, and Rome's centurions have mixed their dust with the defunct Cæsars, but Cheshire cheese still holds its high estimation; and long may it do so, while British palates, teeth, and taste remain—Semperque manebit!"
A magnificent dessert, crowned with the oldest and choicest wines, concluded this princely banquet, and each day's entertainment, although varied, was equally as splendid as the feast we have recorded.