"Yes! those old bucks knew how to dine; every one of his suppers cost Lucullus about thirty-nine thousand francs in our money."
"Bah! don't talk to me about your Romans, my dear fellow; I shall never take those people for models. They spent a lot of money for one repast, but that doesn't prove that they knew how to eat. In the first place, they lay on beds at the table! As if one could eat comfortably lying down! It's like eating on the grass, which is as unpleasant as can be; nobody likes eating on the grass but lovers, and they are thinking of something besides eating. As for your cups, they're pretty to look at, I agree, but they're less convenient for drinking than glasses, and the champagne doesn't foam so much in a cup; and then, you don't have the pleasure of making it foam all over again by striking your glass."
"Say what you will, Monsieur Rouffignard, the Romans knew how to live."
"Because they wore wreaths of roses at their meals, perhaps?"
"Well, it isn't so very unpleasant to have flowers on your head."
"Oh! don't talk to me, Monsieur Dumouton; let's all try wearing a wreath of roses, and you'll see what we look like—genuine buffoons, paraders, and nothing else!"
"Simply because our dress isn't suited to it, monsieur; our style of dress is very disobliging, it isn't suited to anything; with the tunic and cloak falling in graceful folds, the wreath on the head was not absurd. And the slaves who served the ambrosia—in tableau vivant costumes—weren't they attractive to the eye?"
"Oh, yes! slaves of both sexes! That was refined, and no mistake. I tell you that your Romans were infernal debauchees; they put up with—aye, cultivated all the vices! Why, monsieur, what do you say to the Senators who had the effrontery to propose a decree that Cæsar, then fifty-seven years of age, should possess all the women he desired?"
"'Ah! le joli droit! ah! le joli droit du seigneur!'"
"I would like right well to know if he made use of that right."