Page 531 - vanity-fair

and winking at his cousin with a pair of vinous eyes, ‘no
jokes, old boy; no trying it on on me. You want to trot me
out, but it’s no go. In vino veritas, old boy. Mars, Bacchus,
Apollo virorum, hey? I wish my aunt would send down
some of this to the governor; it’s a precious good tap.’
‘You had better ask her,’ Machiavel continued, ‘or make
the best of your time now. What says the bard? ‘Nunc vino
pellite curas, Cras ingens iterabimus aequor,’’ and the Bac-
chanalian, quoting the above with a House of Commons
air, tossed off nearly a thimbleful of wine with an immense
flourish of his glass.
At the Rectory, when the bottle of port wine was opened
after dinner, the young ladies had each a glass from a bottle
of currant wine. Mrs. Bute took one glass of port, honest
James had a couple commonly, but as his father grew very
sulky if he made further inroads on the bottle, the good
lad generally refrained from trying for more, and subsided
either into the currant wine, or to some private gin-and-
water in the stables, which he enjoyed in the company of the
coachman and his pipe. At Oxford, the quantity of wine was
unlimited, but the quality was inferior: but when quantity
and quality united as at his aunt’s house, James showed that
he could appreciate them indeed; and hardly needed any of
his cousin’s encouragement in draining off the second bot-
tle supplied by Mr. Bowls.
When the time for coffee came, however, and for a return
to the ladies, of whom he stood in awe, the young gentle-
man’s agreeable frankness left him, and he relapsed into his
usual surly timidity; contenting himself by saying yes and

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