The idle ramblings of a Jack of some trades, Master of none

Dec 3, 2011


My meat shall all come in Indian shells,
Dishes of agate, set in gold, and studded,
With emeralds, sapphires, hyacinths, and rubies...
My foot-boy shall eat pheasants, calvered salmons,
Knots, godwits, lampreys. I myself will have
The beards of barbels served instead of salads;
Oiled mushrooms; and the swelling unctuous paps
Of a fat pregnant sow, newly cut off,
Drest with an exquisite and poignant sauce;
For which, I'll say unto my cook, "There's gold,
Go forth and be a knight."

The name [Ben] Jonson gave to this mad pleasure-seeker is Sir Epicure Mammon.

(From The Swerve: How the Renaissance Began By Stephen Greenblatt.)


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