We shall have, says Tityrus, chestnuts, cheese, and fruits.

History does not say if Meliboeus allowed himself to be tempted.

It is a pity; for during the frugal meal we might have learned in a more explicit fashion that the shepherds of the ancient world were not acquainted with the haricot.
Ovid tells us, in a delightful passage, of the manner in which Philemon and Baucis received the gods unawares as guests in their humble cottage.
On the three-legged table, which was levelled by means of a potsherd under one of the legs, they served cabbage soup, rusty bacon, eggs poached for a minute in the hot cinders, cornel-berries pickled in brine, honey, and fruits.

In this rustic abundance one dish was lacking; an essential dish, which the Baucis of our countryside would never forget.

After bacon soup would follow the obligatory plate of haricots.
Why did Ovid, so prodigal of detail, neglect to mention a dish so appropriate to the occasion?
The reply is the same as before: because he did not know of it.
In vain have I recapitulated all that my reading has taught me concerning the rustic dietary of ancient times; I can recollect no mention of the haricot.