"But at Montefiascone," said Mr. Cardan, concluding the history of the German bishop who gave the famous wine of Montefiascone its curious name, "at Montefiascone Bishop Defuk's servant found good wine at every shop and tavern; so that when his master arrived he found the prearranged symbol chalked up on a hundred doors. Est, Est, Est - the town was full of them. And the Bishop was so much enraptured with the drink that he decided to settle in Montefiascone for life. For life - but he drank so much that in a very short time it turned out that he had settled here for death. They buried him in the lower church, down there. On his tombstone his servant engraved the Bishop's portrait with this brief epitaph: ‘Est Est Jo Defuk. Propter nimium hic est. Dominus meus mortuus est.' Since when the wine has always been called Est Est Est. We'll have a flask of it dry for serious drinking. And for the frivolous and the feminine, and to sip with the dessert, we'll have a bottle of the sweet moscato. And now let's see what there is to eat." He picked up the menu and holding it out at arm's length - for he had the long sight of old age - read out slowly, with comments, the various items. It was always Mr. Cardan who ordered the dinner (although it was generally Lord Hovenden or Mrs. Aldwinkle who paid), always Mr. Cardan; for it was tacitly admitted by everyone that Mr. Cardan was the expert on food and wine, the professional eater, the learned and scholarly drinker.
Seeing Mr. Cardan busy with the bill of fare, the landlord approached, rubbing his hands and cordially smiling - as well he might on a Rolls-Royce-full of foreigners - to take orders and give advice.
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