One of my all-time favorite scenes from Blackadder takes place in Mrs. Miggins Coffee Shop (aka The Literary Salon) circa 1780.
(Shelley, Coleridge, and Byron are at a table. Shelley sits up holding a
handkerchief; Byron stands very erect, staring straight ahead at nothing;
Coleridge appears dead. As Shelley begins to speak, the person at the next
table stands and moves to a table as far away as possible.)
Shelley: O, Love-bourne ecstasy that is Mrs. Miggins, wilt thou bring me but one cup of the browned juicings of that naughty bean we call `coffee’, ere I die…
Mrs. Miggins: (swoons) Ooohhhh, you do have a way of words with you, Mr. Shelley!
Byron: To Hell with this fine talking. Coffee, woman! My consumption grows evermore acute, and Coleridge’s drugs are wearing off.
Mrs. Miggins: Ohh, Mr. Byron, don’t be such a big girl’s blouse!
Coffee! The nectar of life… Staff of the gods! Good enough for the Romantics, good enough for me!