Letter 12004: Senator [Cassiodorus], Praetorian Prefect, to the Tax Collector of Venetia.

CassiodorusTax Collector|c. 522 AD|Cassiodorus
grief deathimperial politicsproperty economicstravel mobility

Senator [Cassiodorus], Praetorian Prefect, to the Tax Collector of Venetia.

The lavish provisions of the royal table are no small ornament to the state, for a ruler is believed to possess as much as the novelties on which he feasts. A private man has what his locality provides. But at a royal banquet, one ought to seek out whatever is worth marveling at. Let the Danube send its carp, let anchovy come from the Rhine, let Sicilian swordfish be brought at whatever cost, let the sea of Bruttium [Calabria] send its sweet perch -- let fish renowned for their flavor be gathered from every region. This is how a king should dine: so that the ambassadors of foreign nations believe he possesses nearly everything.

Accordingly, the wines that Italy alone -- uniquely rich in this regard -- produces must be secured, lest we who must seek exotic foods abroad should seem to have neglected what is our own. The Count of the Patrimony has reported that the supply of acinaticum [a prized raisin wine, named from acinus, "grape berry"] has run low in the royal cellars.

Since all offices owe one another mutual service in matters pertaining to our rulers, we order you to approach the property owners of Verona -- where the production of this wine is a particular specialty -- so that, upon receiving a fair price, no one delays in selling what he ought to be honored to offer to the royal court. This is a product Italy may rightly boast of. For although ingenious Greece commends itself with many subtle refinements, flavoring its wines with spices or adding the tang of seawater, for all its elaborate methods it has nothing comparable.

This wine is pure, royal in color, and extraordinary in flavor. You might think that the finest purple dye was steeped in its springs, or that its liquid was pressed from the very cloth of emperors. Its sweetness is felt with an inexpressible delicacy. It has a certain firmness of body, almost astringent. Its texture is rich and dense to the touch, so that you would call it either a liquid flesh or a drinkable food. Let me describe how uniquely it is made. In autumn, grapes picked from the vines are hung upside down in trellises within the house, preserved in their natural cases, kept in their own skins. They wrinkle but do not dissolve with age. Then, sweating out their thin, tasteless moisture, they sweeten with a wonderful richness.

The process extends into December, until the cold of winter opens their flow. By a marvelous reversal, the wine becomes new when everything else in the cellars is old. A winter vintage, the cold blood of grapes, a harvest in frost, a crimson liquid, a drinkable purple, a violet nectar -- it first ferments at its source, and when it reaches maturity, it begins to possess an eternal freshness. It is not rudely crushed underfoot, nor clouded by any admixture of impurities, but -- as befits such nobility -- it is summoned forth with care. It flows while water freezes. It is fertile when every other crop of the fields has departed. It distills a liquid comparable to gems, weeping something inexplicably delightful -- and beyond the pleasure of its sweetness, there is a singular beauty in its appearance.

Search for this wine as quickly as possible, purchase it at fair prices, and hand it over for transport to the agents dispatched for this purpose. And do not neglect the variety that gleams with a milky hue, since whatever is harder to find is all the more wonderful. Its whiteness is lovely and its purity serene, so that you would think the red was born from roses and the white from lilies. They differ in color but are kin in flavor -- different in appearance yet equal in delight. What is sharp in taste and quick to refresh is understood to be common to both, yet the visible difference between them is remarkable. You behold one joyful in its redness, the other festive in its whiteness. The procurement of both must therefore be carried out with the greatest speed, since both possess what is equally desired.

Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.

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