While Lord Minikin, the peer of fashion, makes his entrance on the stage, exclaiming:
'O my head! I must absolutely change my wine-merchant; I cannot taste his Champaigne without disordering myself for a week.'[338]
On Miss Tittup inquiring if his depression is due to losses at cards, he replies,
'No, faith, our Champaigne was not good yesterday.'[339]
Jessamy, his lordship's valet, profits of course by so aristocratic an example; and when speaking of his exploits at the masquerade, says,
'I was in tip-top spirits, and had drunk a little too freely of the Champaigne, I believe.'[340]
With Philip the butler, 'Burgundy is the word,' and from the choicest vintages of his master's cellar he places on the table 'Claret, Burgundy, and Champaign; and a bottle of Tokay for the ladies;'[341] while Port is characterised by the Duke's servant as 'only fit for a dram.'[342] Mrs. Circuit presses the guests at a clandestinely-given repast to 'taste the Champagne;' and her husband, the Sergeant, is surprised on his return home to find that they have been so indulging:
'Delicate eating, in truth; and the wine [_Drinks_] Champagne, as I live! Must have t'other glass ... delicate white wine, indeed! I like it better every glass.'[343]
The effects of the wine are characterised in the following fashion by Garrick, when Sparkish, entering, according to the stage directions, 'fuddled,' declares that
'when a man has wit, and a great deal of it, Champaign gives it a double edge, and nothing can withstand it; 'tis a lighted match to gunpowder; the mine is sprung, and the poor devils are tossed heels uppermost in an instant.'[344]
We greet, too, what was perhaps the first appearance of a joke now grown venerable in its antiquity in a farce of Foote's, the scene of which is laid at Bath. He introduces us to a party of pseudo-invalids devoting their whole time and attention to conviviality, recruiting their debilitated stomachs with turtle and venison, and alternating Bath waters with the choicest vintages, so that the hero Racket is fain to observe to one of them,
'My dear Sir Kit, how often has Dr. Carawitchet told you that your rich food and Champaigne would produce nothing but poor health and real pain?'[345]