The scarus--its modern name is still problematic--furnished the Greeks with one of those exquisite dishes the remembrance of which never dies. The Romans were not yet acquainted with it, when Octavius, the commander of a fleet, brought on board the vessels a great quantity of this fish, which he ordered to be thrown into the sea along the coast of Campania, and which soon became the delight of the epicures of Rome.[XXI-89] History has shown too much disdain by neglecting to say more than a few passing words on the subject of this great service. May a tardy homage of gratitude be paid to the memory of the benefactor of his country. The scarus was prepared without being embowelled, and epicures found it impossible to satiate themselves with the entrails,[XXI-90] which obtained for it a gastronomic vogue it long enjoyed without a rival.[XXI-91] It was asserted that the fish ruminates;[XXI-92] that it feeds only on herbage;[XXI-93] and that, far from being mute, like the other inhabitants of the water, it not only emits sounds, but is able to express by its cries the different sensations it experiences.[XXI-94] These anomalies, either real or supposed, had, perhaps, as great a share in rendering the scarus celebrated, as the delicacy of its flesh, and the exquisite flavour of its intestines. Merit the most real can so rarely keep the field unsupported by cajollery. TURBOT. Rome and Italy were indebted to the prætor, Sempronius, or to Rufus Rutilius,[XXI-95] for the turbot, which they taught their countrymen to appreciate. This fish quickly obtained the success which it merited, and was compared to the pheasant, as soles were likened to partridges, lampreys to quails, and sturgeons to peacocks. Some preferred turbot from the Adriatic Sea, others that of Ravenna;[XXI-96] but all united in declaring that there was not a more delicious food, and that a feast loses all its charm when this delicacy is wanting. In the reign of Domitian a monstrous turbot was taken; such a one had never been seen in the imperial kitchens.[XXI-97] The emperor convoked the senate, and deferred to them to decide in what dish it should be cooked, in order that it might be served whole. The deliberation was long and stormy; all Rome was in a state of expectancy; and the august assembly strove to prove itself worthy of the high confidence reposed in it by Cæsar. At length the illustrious old men were tolerably unanimous in their idea that the best way would be to make a dish expressly for the fish--since there was none large enough ready-made--and also that a stove should be constructed vast enough to allow the dish to be placed commodiously upon it.[XXI-98] The emperor, the city, and the court applauded the profound wisdom of this decision; and “_le turbot fut mis à la sauce piquante_.”[XXI-99] Aristotle does not mention this fish; but his compatriots esteemed highly the turbots of Attica.[XXI-100] TUNNY.