FOr as muche as thou doste now enter the iourny, wher­of I haue allredy ronne forth the better parte (as thou seest) I meane the transitorie waye of this mortall life: I haue de­termined (such is the Loue I beare thee) to shewe all the daungerous straights thou must passe: For my experience maketh me feare, y ^t walking that way thou mayst easily eyther fall, or by some meanes or other go astray. To the ende thou maist once, taughte both by my instructions and experience, be able to keepe the right waye, aswell for the helthe of thy Soule, as the commendation and prayse of the Honourable and Noble house thou doest come of. And bycause thy tender Age, is vnfit (as yet) to receaue more principall and higher precepts, reseruing them for fytter time, I will beginn to discourse of such things as many men wyll deeme, perchaūce, but tri­fles: [Page 2] I meane what manner of Countenance and grace, behoueth a man to vse, that hee may be able in Communication and familiar acquaintance with mē, to shewe him selfe ple­sant, courteous, and gentle: which neuerthe­lesse is either a vertue, or the thing that comes very nere to vertue. And albeit Liberali­tie, or magnanimitie, of themselues beare a greater prayse, then, to be a well taught or manored man: yet perchaunce, the courteous behauiour and entertaynement with good maners and words, helpe no lesse, him that hath them: then the high minde and courage, aduaūceth him in whome they be. For these be such things as a mā shall neede alwayes at all hāds to vse, because a man must necessarily be familiar with mē at all times, & euer haue talk & communication with them: But iustice, for­titude, and the other greater, and more noble vertues, are seldome put in vre. Neyther is y ^e liberall and noble minded man, caused euery hower to doe bountifull things: for to vse it of­ten, cannot any man beare the charge, by any meanes. And these valiāt men y ^t be so full of hyghe minde and courage: are very seldome driuen to trye their valour & vertue by their deeds. Then as muche as these last, doe passe those fyrst, in greatnes (as it were) & in weight: so much do the other surmoūt these in number, & oftē occasiō to vse thē. And, if I could wel in­tend [Page 3] it, I could name you many, whoe, (being otherwise of litle account) haue ben & be styll, muche estemed & made of, for their cherefull & plesaunt behauiour alone: which hath byn suche a helpe & aduauncemēt vnto them, that they haue gotten greate preferments, leauing farre behinde them, such men as haue byn en­dowed with those other noble and better ver­tues, spoken of before. And as these plesaūt & gētle behauiours, haue power to draw their harts & mynds vnto vs, with whome we liue: so cōtrarywise, grosse and rude maners, pro­cure mē to hate and despise vs. Wherby albeit the lawes, haue inioyned no payne for vnma­nerly & grose behauiours, as the fault that is thought but light (& to saye a trueth, it is not greate) yet we see notwithstanding, y ^t nature herselfe punisheth thē w ^t sharpe & shrewde cor­rection, putting them by this meanes, besydes y ^e cōpanie & fauour of men. And truly euē as greate & foule faults, doe muche harme: so doe these lyght, much hurt, or hurte at least more oftē. For, as mē doe cōmōly fere y ^e beasts y ^t be cruell & wild, & haue no maner of feare of som litle ones, as y ^e gnats and the flyes, & yet by y ^e cōtinual noiaūce they find by thē, cōplaine thē selues more of thes thē of y ^e other: so it chaūceth y ^t most mē do hate in maner asmuche, y ^e vnma­nerly & vntaught, as y ^e wicked, & more. So y ^t [Page 4] there is no doubte, but who so disposeth him­selfe to liue, not in solitarie and deserte pla­ces, as Heremites, but in fellowship with men, and in populous Cities, will think it a very necessarie thing, to haue skill to put himselfe forth comely and seemely, in his fashions, ges­tures and maners: the lacke of which parts doth make those other vertues lame, and litle or nothing can they work to good effect, with­out other helpes: wheare this ciuilitie and courtesie, without other releefe or patrimo­nie, is riche of it selfe, & hath substance enough, as a thing y ^t standeth in speache and gestures alone.

And that y ^u mayst now more easily learne the way vnto it, thou must vnderstand, it behoues thee, to frame and order thy maners and doings, not according to thyne owne minde and fashion: but to please those, with whome thou lyuest, and after that sort direct thy doings: And this must be done by Discre­tion and Measure. For who so applieth himself to much, to feede other mens humors, in his familiar conuersation, and behauiour with men, is rather to be thought a Iester, a Iugler or flatterer, then a gentleman wel taught and nourtured: As contrarywise, whoe so hath no care or mynd to please, or displese, is a rude, [Page 5] vntaught, and vncourteous fellowe. For as­muche then, as our maners, haue some plea­sure in them when we respect other men, and not our owne pleasure: if we diligētly searche forthe what those things be, that most men do generally lyke or dislike: we shall in suche forte wisely and easily finde out, the meanes & wayes, to choose and eschewe, those fashions and maners, we are to leaue or take, to liue a­mongest men. We say then, that euery act that offendeth any the common senses, or ouer­thwarteth a mans will and desire, or els presenteth to the Imagination and conceite, matters vnpleasaunt, & that likewyse, which y ^e mynde doth abhorre, such things I say bee naught, and must not be vsed: for vve must not only refraine from such thinges as be fowle, filthy, lothsome and nastie: but vve must not so muche as name them. And it is not only a fault to dooe such things, but against good maner, by any act or signe to put a man in minde of them. And therefore, it is an ilfauoured fashion, that some men vse, openly to thrust their hands in what parte of their bodye they lyst.

Lykwise, I like it as yll to see a Gentlemā fettle him selfe, to do the needes of Nature, in presence of men: And after he hath doone, to trusse him selfe againe before them. Neither [Page 6] would I haue him (if I may geue him coun­cell) when he comes from suche an occupatiō, so much as washe his hāds, in the sight of ho­nest company: for y ^t the cause of his washing, puts them in minde of some filthy matter that hath bene done aparte. And by the same rea­son, it is no good maner, when a man chaun­ceth to see, as he passeth the waye (as many times it happeneth) a lothesome thing, y ^t wil make a mā to cast his stomacke, to tourne vn­to the company, & shewe it them. And much worse I like it, to reache some stynking thing vnto a man to smell vnto it: as it is many a mās fashiō to do, w ^t importunate meanes, yea, thrusting it vnto their nose, saying: Foh, feele I pray you, hovv this doth stink. vvhere they should rather say, smell not vnto it: for it hath an yll sent. And as these and lyke fashions offend the sē ­ses, to which they appertaine: so to grynde the teethe, to whistle, to make pityfull cryes, to rubb sharpe stones together, and to fyle vppon Iron, do muche offend the Eares and would be lefte in any case. Neither must wee refraine those things alone, but we must al­so beware we do not syng, and specialy alone, if we haue an vntuneable voyce, which is a common fault with moste men: And yet, hee that is of nature least apt vnto it, doth vse it [Page 7] moste. So there be some kynde of men, that Neesing. in coffyng or neesing, make suche noyse, that they make a man deafe to here them: other some vse in lyke things, so little discretion, that they spyt in mens faces that stand a­bout them: besydes these there be some, that in yauning, braye and crye out like Asses. And yet such, with open mouth wil euer say and do what they list, and make such noyse, or rather suchroaring, as the dumme man doth, when he striueth with him selfe to speake. All these yllfauoured fashions, a man must leaue, as lothsome to the eare and the eye. And a mā must leaue to yawne muche, not only for the Yawning. respect of the matter I haue saide alreadye, as that it seemes to proceede, of a certaine wery­nes, that shewes that he that yawneth, could better like to be els where, then there in that place: as wearied with the companie, their talke, and their doings. And sure, albeit a mā be many times disposed to yawne, yet if he be occupied with any delyght, or earnest mat­ter to think vppon: he shall haue no minde to doe it. But if he be lumpishe & idle: it is an easy matter to fall in to it. And there­fore, VVhen a man yavvneth, in place vvhere there bee slouthfull and Idle folkes, that haue nothing to doe, the rest, as you may see [Page 8] many times, yavvne againe for companie by & by: as it he that yawned, had put them in minde to doe it, which of them selues they would haue done first, if hee had not begoone vnto them. And I haue many tymes heard lear­ned and wise men say, that A yavvner meaneth as much in Latin as a careles and Idle bodie. Let vs then flye these condicions, that loathe (as I sayd) the eyes, the Eares, & the Stomacke. For in vsing these fashyons, we doe not only shewe that we take litle pleasure in the com­pany, but we geue them occasion withall, to iudge amis of vs: I meane y ^t we haue a drow­sye & heuie nowle, which makes vs yll well­com, to all cōpanies we come vnto. And whē thou hast blowne thy nose, vse not to open thy Blowing of the nose. handkercheif, to glare vppon thy snot, as if y ^u hadst pearles and Rubies fallen from thy braynes: for these be slouenly parts, ynough to cause men, not so much not to loue vs, as if they did loue vs, to vnloue vs againe. As the Sprite of Labirintho doth testifie (who so­euer he were that made it) who (to quenche y ^e Looke in the beginning of Corbaccio. heate wherwith Master Iohn Boccase burned in desyre and Loue of his Lady vnknowne) tells, how she cowred her taile ouer the ashes, sytting vppon her heeles, and coughed and spatte out Collops. [Page 9] It is also an vnmanerly parte, for a man to lay his nose vppon the cup where another Dropping of the Nose. must drinke: or vppon the meate y ^t another must eate, to the end to smell vnto it: But rather, I would wish he should not smell at all, no not to that which he himselfe should eate and drinke: because it may chaūce there might fall some droppe frō his nose, that would make a man to loath it: although there fall nothing at all in deede. Neither, by mine aduise, shalt thou reache to any man, that cup of wine wher­of thy selfe hast fyrst dronke and tasted: w ^t ­out he be more then a familiar friend vnto thee. And much lesse must thou giue any parte of the peare or the fruite, which thou hast bitten in thy mouth before. And es­teeme not light of my talke, for that these things be of little account: For euen light stripes (their number may be such) be able to slaye fast ynoughe.

Now you shall vnderstād, there was in Giouanni. Matheo. Giberti, bi­shop of Ve­rona. Verona, a bishop a wise mā, a learned & of a singular good wit by nature, whose name was Giouāni Matheo Giberti: Amōgst ma­ny good parts y ^t were in him, he was ve­ry courtious & liberall, to all gentlemen & noble men that came vnto him, doing thē all y ^t honor he could in his house, not with [Page 10] ouer much pompe and cost, but with con­uenient entertainement and measure, such as besemed well a man of the Clergie. It chaunced in his time, a noble gentleman called Count Richard, passing that way, to Count Ri­chard. spend a fewe dayes with the Bishop and his householde together: which was tho­roughly furnished w ^t honest gentlemē and very well learned. And bycause they found him a Noble gentleman, courteous and well beseene in all good behauiour, they praysed him muche, and made muche of him, saue that one vnmanerly fashion they muche misliked in him. When the By­shop was aduertised of it, consulting with some of his familiars about it (as he was a wise man in all his doings) straite they cō ­cluded, it should be necessary to let y ^e Count haue knowledge of it: albeit they feared, they should offend him. Upon this, y ^e Count taking his leaue, and redy to ryde away the next morning, the Byshop called one of his seruants vnto him, (a man of good discretion) and gaue him in charge to take his horse, to beare the Count company, some parte of his waye: And when he sawe his time, after an honest sorte, to tell him, that which they had determined betwene them selues. The same gentleman that had [Page 11] this charge, was a man well strooken in yeares, very lerned, and meruailous plea­saunt, wel spoken, comely, and had muche frequented in his time, y ^e Courtes of greate Princes: who was (perhaps) and is, called Galateo: at whose request and councell, I Galateo. first tooke in hand to set forth this present treatise. Ryding with the Count, he found him plesaunt talke ynoughe, and passing frō one matter to another, whē he thought it tyme to returne to Verona, in taking leaue at parting, with a gentle & cherefull coun­tenaunce, he vsed this speache vnto him. Syr Count, my Lorde yealdeth you many thanks for the honour you haue done him, in that it hath pleased you to vouchesafe his poore house: and that he may not be vnthankfull, for this your greate courtesie shevved vnto him, he hath geuen me in charge, that I must leaue a present vvith you in his behalfe: and he sends it vnto vnto you vvith earnest request, that you please to take it in good vvorthe: and this is the gift. You are a goodly gentleman, and the best manered man my Lorde hath euer seene: So that very heedefully beholding your behauiours, and particularly considering them all, hee findeth no one that is not very [Page 12] comely and comendable, only one vnsemely trycke alone excepted, vvhich you make vvith your lippes and your mouth together, feeding at your meate vvith a certaine straunge noyes, vnpleasaunt to all men that heare it. This my Lord willed me to tell you, and prayes you to endeuour your selfe to leaue it, and vvithall to accept in levve of a beter present, this louing ad­monition and councell of his: for he is sure, there is none in the vvorlde, would make you the like present. The Count (that neuer wyst of his fault till now) hearing himselfe reproued, chaunged his countenance a lit­tle, but (as a mā full of stomacke ynough) taking hart at grasse, he said: Tell your Lorde, that yf all the gifts that men vvont to geue eche other, vvere such as his, men should be muche more riche then they are. And for his greate courtesie and liberalitie to mee, geue him many thanks I pray you, and let him be sure, I will not fayle from henceforthe to mend my fault, and God be vvith you.

Now what shal we thinke this Bishop, his modest and honest company about him would say, if they sawe these whome wee Greedy feeding. see other while, (like swyne w ^t their snouts in the washe, all begroined) neuer lyft vp their heads nor looke vp, and muche lesse keepe their hands from the meate, and w ^t [Page 13] both their cheeks blowne (as if they should sound a trumpet, or blowe the fyer) not eate but rauon: whoe, besmearing their hāds, almost vp to their elbowes, so bedawbe Fyling the napkyns. y ^t napkyns, that y ^e cloathes in the places of easement, be other while cleaner. And to mend these slouenly maners, be not asha­med, many tymes with these filthy nap­kyns, to wype awaye the sweat that trick­leth and falleth downe their browes, their face and their necke (they be such greedy Sweating with feeding. guts in their feeding) and otherwhile to, (when it comes vppon them) spare not to snot their sniueld nose vppon them. Tru­ly these beastly behauiours and fashions, deserue not alone, to be thrust out of this noble bishops house, that was so pure and cleane: but to be throughly banished all places, where any honest men should com. Let a man then take hede, hee doe not be­grease his fyngers so deepe, y ^t he befyle the napkins to much: for it is an yll sight to see it: neither is it good maner, to rubbe your gresie fingers vppō y ^e bread you must eate.

The seruaunts that bee appointed to waite vppon the table, must not (in any wise) scratche and rubbe their heades, nor Precepts for seruaunts. any parte els in the sight of their Lorde & Master: nor thrust their hāds in any those [Page 14] partes of their body that be couered, no not so muche as make any proffer: as some careles fellowes doo, holding their hands in their bosome, or cast vnder the flappes of their coates behind them. But they must beare them abroade without any suspicion and keepe them (in any case) washt & cleane without any spot of durt vppon them. And they that cary the dyshes, or reache the cup, must beware at that time, they doe not spit, coughe or neese: for in such doings, Suspiciō is as greate, and offendeth asmuche, as the very deede it selfe: and therefore, seruants must forsee, they geue no cause to Maisters to suspect: For that which might chaunce, a­noyeth asmuche, as if it had chaunced in­deede.

And if thou do roaste any fruite, or make a toaste at the fyer, thou must not blowe of the ashes, (if there be any) for it is an old saying, that, vvinde vvas neuer vvithout wa­ter. But y ^u must lyghtly stryke it vppō the the plate, or after some suche sorte or other beate of y ^e ashes. Thou shalt not offer thy hādkerchiefe to any mā to vse it, albeit, it be very cleane washed: for he to whome thou doest offer it, can not (perhaps) awaye w ^t it, and may be to curious to take it.

When a man talketh with one, it is no Breithing in a mans face. [Page 15] good maner to come so neere, that he must needes breathe in his face: for there be ma­ny that can not abyde to feele the ayer of a­nother mans breathe, albeit there come no yll fauour from him. These and lyke fa­shions, be very vnsemely, and would be eschewed, because their senses, w ^t whome we acquaint our selues, cannot brooke nor beare them.

Now, let vs speake of those things which (without any hurt or anoyaūce to the sen­ses) offende the minds of most men, before whome they be doone. You shall vnder­stand, that The appetites of men, (throughe a naturall instinct and inclinatiō) be verie strange and diuers: Some be cholerike & hasty, & may not be satifsied with out reuenge: o­ther doe giue them selues cleane ouer, to pamper the belly: this mā sets his delighte in lust and sensualitie: that man is carried away with his couetous desires: and ma­ny suche appetites more there are, to which mans mynde is too subiect: but you shall not in any company, easily iudge or discerne betweene them, where and in what, they bee moste affected. For, these matters doe not cōsist in the maners, the fashions and speache of men: but rest in some other point. They seeke to purchase y ^e [Page 16] which the benefit of mutuall conferrence may yeald them, & that doe (as I weene) good will, honour, comforte and pleasure, or some other thing lyke vnto these: & ther­fore we must neither say or doe the thing, that may giue any signe of litle louing or esteming them, we liue withall.

So that, it is a rude fashion, (in my cō ­ceipte) y ^t som men vse, to lye lolling a sleepe in that place, where honest men be met to­gether, of purpose to talke. For his so do­ing, shewes that he doth not esteeme the company, and little rekoneth of thē or their talke. And more then that, he that slee­peth (and specially lying at litle ease, as he must) wonts (for the moste parte) to doe some fowle thing, to beholde, or heare: and many tymes they awake sweating and driueling at the mouth. And in like ma­ner, to rise vp where other men doe sit and talke, and to walke vp and downe the chā ­ber, it is no poynt of good maner. Also there be some that so buskell them selues, reache, streatch and yawne, writhing now one syde, and then another, that a man would weene, they had some feuer vppon them: A manifest signe, that the compa­ny they keepe, doth weary them.

Likewise doe they very yll, y ^t now & thē [Page 17] pull out a letter out of theyr pocket, to reade it: as if they had greate matters of charge, and affaires of the common weale committed vnto thē. But they are much more to bee blamed, that pull out theyr knyues or their scisers, and doe nothing els but pare their nayles, as if they made no account at all of the company, and would seeke some other solace to passe the time a­waye. Theis fashions to, must be left, y ^e some men vse, to sing betwene the teeth, or playe the dromme with their fingers, or sho ofle their feete: For these demeanours shewe that a body is carelesse of any man ells.

Besides, let not a man so sit that he turne his tayle to him that sitteth next to him: nor lye fottering with one legg so hygh a­boue the other, that a man may see all bare that his cloathes would couer. For such parts be neuer playde, but amongst those to whome a man needs vse no reuerēce. It is very true, that if a gentleman should vse these fashions before his seruants, or in the presēce of some friende of meaner con­dition then him selfe: it would betoken no pride, but a loue and familiaritie.

Let a man stand vppright of him selfé, and not leane or loll vppon another mans [Page 18] shoulder: and when he talketh, let him not pounche his fellow with his elbowe, (as many be wont to doe) at euery worde they speake, saying: Did not I say true Sirra. Mas­ter. N. It is Master. H. And still they be iot­ting with their elbowe.

I would haue euery man well appare­led, Apparell. meete for his age and calling: for other­wise, they seeme to haue men in contempt that be better attyred then themselues.

And therfore the Citizens of Padua, were woont to take it done of spighte vnto thē, when any gentleman of Venice walked vp & downe their citie in his coate, as though he thought him selfe in the countrey. And a mans apparell, would not be made of fine cloathe alone: but he must frame it, all that he may, to the fashions that other men weare, and suffer him selfe to bee lead by cō ­mon vse: although (perchaunce) it be, and seeme to be lesse commodious, lesse gallant, and lesse faire in shewe, then his oulde.

And if all men els, doe weare their heads powled: it shalbe an yll sight for thee alone, to weare a longe bushe of haire. And where other men, make muche of their beardes and weare them longe: thou shalt not doe well to cut thine of, or shaue [Page 19] it. For that weare to be ouerthwarte in euery thing: which thou must (in any case) beware of, except necessitie require it, as thou shalt heare hereafter. For this sin­gularitie, beyond all other yll customes, makes vs generally spyted of all mē. Thou must not then go against common cus­tome in these things, but vse them measure­ably: that thou maist not bee an odd man alone in a countrey: that shall weare a long Gowne downe to the foote, where other men weare them very shorte, litle beneath the waste. For as it hapens to him, that hath a very crabbed ylfauoured face, (I meane suche, as is more harde and sower thē most mennes be, for nature doth mostly shape them well in moste men) that men will wonder and (with a kinde of admira­tion) gape most vppon him: So fares it with thē that attire them selues, not as most men doe: but as they are egged by their owne fantasticall heads, with lōg heare spred downe to their shoulders, their beardes short and shauen, and weare quaiues or greate cappes after y ^e Flaundres fashion: that all men doe gaze vppon them, as wōdering at suche, whome they weene haue taken vppon them, to conquer all [Page 20] countries wheresoeuer they come. Let your apparell then, be very well made, and fit for your body: for they that weare rich and coastly garments, but so illfauouredly shaped, that a man would weene the mea­sure had byn taken by another: geue vs to iudge one of these twaine, that eyther they haue no regarde or consideration how to please or displease: or els haue no skill to iudge of measure or grace, or what doth become them.

Such maner of people, with their rude behauiours and fashions, make men with whome they liue, suspect, they doe es­teeme them but light. And that causeth thē worse welcome whersoeuer they com and yll beloued amongest men.

But there be some besides these, that de­serue more then bare suspicion: their deeds and their doings be so intollerable, that a man cannot abide to liue amōgest them by any meanes. For they be euer a let, a hurt and a trouble to all the companie, they be neuer redie: euer a trimming: neuer well dressed to their mindes. But when men be readie to sit downe to the table, the meate at the boorde, and their handes washed: then they must write or make Table. [Page 21] water, or haue their exercise to doe: saying, It is too early: vve myght haue taryed a vvhile: vvhat haste is this, this morning? And thus they disquiet all the company, as men, caring for them selues alone & theyr owne matters, without consideration in the worlde of other men. Besides this, they will in all things be preferred aboue others: they must haue the best bed, and best chamber: they must take vppon them the highest place at the table, and be first set and serued of all men. And they be so deintie and nice, that nothing pleaseth them, but what they them selues deuise: they make a sower face at any thing ells. And they be so proude minded, that they looke that men should waite vppon them when they dyne, ryde, sporte, or solace them selues.

There be other so furious, testie & way­warde, that nothing you doe can please them: and what soeuer is said they aun­swer in choler, and neuer leaue brauling w ^t their seruants, and rayling at them, and continually disturbe the company with their vnquietnes: vsing such speeches: Thou cauledst me vvell vp this morning. Looke heere hovv cleane thou hast made these [Page 22] pynsons. Thou beaste, thou diddest vvaite vvell vppon me to Churche. It vvere a good deede to breake thy head. These be vnseme­ly and very fowle fashions: suche as euery honest man will hate to death. For, albeit a mans minde were full fraught with all humilitie, and would vse these maners, not vppon pride or disdaine, but vppon a reche­lesse care, not heeding his doings, or elles by meanes of yll custome: yet notwithstā ­ding, because his outward doings, woulde make men thinke him proude: it cannot be chosen, but all men woulde hate him for it. For, Pride is none other thinge, then to des­pise and disdaine another. And as I haue Pryde. saide from the beginning: Eache man desi­reth to bee vvell thought of, Albeit there bee no valoure or goodnes in hym.

It is not long, synce there was in Rome a worthy gentleman, of singular good witt and profound learning, whose name was Vbaldino Bandinelli. This gentleman was Vbaldino Bandinelli. woont to say, that as ofte as hee went or came from the Courte, although the stretes weare euer full of gallant Courtiers, of Prelates and Noble men, and likewise of poore men, and people of meane and base condition: yet he thought he neuer encoun­tred any, that was eyther better or worse [Page 23] then himselfe. And without doubte hee could meete with fewe, that might bee compared in goodnes to him: respecting his vertues, that did excel beyond measure. But we must not alwayes in these things measure men by y ^e Elne: We must rather waye them in the millers scoles, then in the goldsmythes balaunce. And it is a courtious parte, redily to receaue them in to fauour: not bycause they bee woorthe it: but as men doe with coynes, bycause they be currant,

To go further, wee must doe nothing in their syght whome wee desire to please, that may shewe wee couet, rather to rule and to reigne, then to liue in a familiar equalitie amongest them. For hautines of harte and ambitious disposition, as it kindleth an yll opinion: so it ministreth muche cause of contempte, which in con­clusion will so woorke against thee, y ^t thou shalt bee cleane cast out of honest compa­ny. But our dooings must rather beare a A lowly minde. signe and shewe of reuerence, meekenes, & respect to y ^e company, in which wee fellow­ship our selues. So that, what so euer is doone in meete and conuenient time, may hapely deserue no blame: but yet in res­pect of the place and the persone, it [Page 24] may be reproued well: althoughe for it self, y ^e matter deserue no rebuke. As to brawle and to raile at your seruaunts (which we haue talked of before) but muche more to beate them. Because these partes, are as­muche as to reigne and to rule: which no honest and ciuil gentlemā wyll vse, in pre­sence of them he doth respect with any re­uerence or courtesie. Besydes this, the cō ­pany is muche offended with it, and their meetinges are broken, and especially, if it be done at the table, which is a place of so­lace and myrthe, and not of brawle and scolding. So that I must nedes cōmend Currado Gianfigliazzi for his ciuil behauiour in y ^t he multiplied no words with Chichibio Boccaccio. Cior. 6. nouel. 4. fo. 194. to trouble his guests: albeit he deserued to be sharply punished for it, when he would sooner displease his master then Brunetta. And yet if Currado had made lesse adoe a­bout it then he did: it had byn more his prayse. For then he should neuer haue ne­ded, to call vppō God, to witnes his threat­nings so muche as he did.

But to returne to our matter: it is not good for a man to chide at the table for any cause. And if thou be angrie, shew it not, Chiding at the Table. nor make no signe of thy greefe, for the rea­son I haue tolde thee, and specially yf thou [Page 25] haue straungers with thee: because thou haste called them to be merry, and this wil make them sad. For, as the sharpe and tarte things y ^t other men doe feede vppō in thy sight, doe set thy teeth likewise on edge: so to see other men vexed and out of quiet, it maketh vs vnquiet too. I call them FROMVVARD people, which will in all­things Fromewarde. be ouertwhart to other men: as the very worde it selfe doth shewe. For, Fromewarde, signifieth asmuche, as Shorne against the wooll. Now, how fit a thinge this frowardnes is, to wyn the good will Frowardenes. of men, and cause men to wyshe well vnto them: that you your self may easily Iudge, in that it cōsisteth in ouertwharting other mens desiers: which qualitie neuer mayn­teineth friendship, but maketh friends be­come foes. And therfor let them that de­sire to be well thought of and welcome a­mongst men, endeuour thē selues to shunne this fault: For it breedes no good lyking nor loue, but hatred and hurt. I would councell you rather to measure your plea­sures by other mens willes: where there shal come no hurt nor shame of it: and ther­in alwayes to doe & to saye, more to please other mens myndes and fausies, then your owne.

[Page 26] Agayne, you must be neither clownishe Clownishe and Lampishe nor lumpishe: but pleasaunt and familiar. For there should bee no oddes, betweene the Mystell and the Pungitopo: but that the one is wilde: the other growes in gardens. And you must vnderstand, that he is plea­saunt and courteous: whose manners bee suche in his common behauiour, as practise to keepe, and maintaine him friendeship amongst them: where hee that is solleyne and waywarde, makes him selfe a straū ­ger whersoeuer hee comes: a straunger, I meane, asmuch as a forreigne or aliē borne: where contrariwise, he that is familiar & gentle, in what place so euer he comes: is taken for a familiar and friend with all mē. So that it shalbe necessarie for a man, to vse him selfe to salute, to speake, and to an­swer after a gentle sorte, and to behaue him selfe w ^t all men so: as if hee were their countryman borne, & of their olde acquain­tance. Which some can yll skill to doe, that neither giue a man a good counte­naunce: easily say, No, to all things: neuer take in good worthe, the honour and cour­tesie that men doe vnto them (like to the people I spake of before, rude and barba­rous) neuer take delight in any pleasaunt conceites or other pleasures: but euer re­fuse [Page 27] it all, what soeuer is presented or offe­red vnto them. If a man say: Sir, suche a one willed me to commend him vnto you: They aunswere straite: vvhat haue I too doe vvith his greetings? And if a man say: Sir, suche a one your friend, asked me hovv you did: They aūswer againe in choler: Let him come feele my pulse. These carterlyke and clownishe aunswers and maners, and the men them selues that doe vse them: would bee chased and hūted away, out of all good and honest company.

It yll becomes a man when hee is in Muscing. company, to bee sad, musing, and full of contemplation. And albeit, it may bee suffered perchaunce in them that haue long beaten their braines in these Mathematicall studies: which are called (as I take it) the Liberall Artes: yet without doubte it may not be borne in other men. For, euen these studious fellowes, at suche tyme, when they be so ful of their Muses: should be much wyser to get them selues alone.

Againe, to bee to nyce or to deyntie: it Nycenes and Deyntines. may not be abiden, and specially in men. For, to liue with suche kinde of people: is rather a slauerie then pleasure. And sure there bee som such, so softe & tender: y ^t to liue [Page 28] and deale with such people, it is as daun­gerous: as to medle with the fynest and bryttelest glasse that may be: So muche they are affrayde of euery light touche. And they wilbe as testy and frowarde, if you doe not quickly and readily salute them, visite them, worship them, and make thē answer: as some other body would be, for the greatest iniurie y ^t can be donne vnto them. And if you doe not giue them all the due reuerence that may be: they will presently take a thousand occasions to qua­rell and fall out with you. Yf you chaūce to Master him, and leaue out his title of Ho­nour or worship: he takes that in dougeon, and thinkes you doe mock him. And if you set him beneath as good a man as him self at the table: that is against his honour. If you doe not visite him at home at his house: then you knowe not your dutie. Theis maner of fashions and behauiours, bring men to such scorne and disdayne of their doings: that there is no man, almost, can abyde to beholde them: for they loue them selues to farre beyonde measure, and busie them selues so much in that, that they fynde litle leysure to bethinke them selues to loue any other: which (as I haue saide from the beginning) men seeke to fynde in [Page 29] the conditions and maners of those with whome they must liue: I meane, that they should apply them selues to the fansies & mindes of their friendes. But to liue w ^t suche people, so hard to please: whose loue and friendship once wonne, is as easie lost, as a fyne scarfe is lightly caryed away with the winde: that is no lyfe but a ser­uice: and, besydes that it yealdeth no plea­sure, it geues a man greate disdayne and horror. Let vs therefore leaue these softe and wanton behauiours to women.

In speach a mā may fault many wayes. And first in the matter it selfe that is in Talke and Communica­tion. talke, which may not be vayne or filthye. For, they that doe heare it, wyll not abyde it: as y ^e talk they take no pleasure to heare: but rather scorne the speache and the spea­ker both. Againe, a man must not moue any question of matters that be to deepe & to subtile: because it is hardly vnderstoode of the moste. And a man must warely foresee, that the matter bee suche, as none of the company may blushe to heare it, or re­ceaue any shame by the tale. Neyther must he talke of any filthy matter, albeit a man would take a pleasure to heare it: for, it yll becomes an honest gentleman, to seeke to please, but in things that be honest. Nei­

[Page 30] Neither in sporte nor in earnest, must a man speake any thing against God or Holie thinges muste not bee Ieasted at. Ciccro. Mala & impia est Consuetudo, contra deos disputandi: siue serio fit, siue dissimu­late. his Saintes, how witty or pleasaunt so e­uer the matter be. Wherein, the company that Giouan Boccaccio hathe brought to speake in his Nouelles and tales, hath faul­ted so muche: that me thinkes euery good body, may iustly blame them for it. And you must thinke It is not only a token of great detestation & Impietie in a man, to talke in ies­tinge wise of God: but hee is a vvicked & sinfull man, that will abyde to heare it. But you shall finde some suche good men, as will flie asmuche as the plague, the company of such as talke so vnreuerently, and without res­pect, of the incomprehensible Maiestie of God. And vvee must not alone speake reli­giously of him: but in all our talkes wee must auoyde what vvee may, that our vvordes may not vvitnes against our life and our vvorkes. For mē doe hate their owne faultes other­while, when they see them in another.

Likewise it is vnsauourie, to talke of things out of tyme, not fitting the place Talke out of time. and company: although the matter it selfe, and spoken in tyme, were otherwise both good and godly. We must not then reherse Fryers sermones to young gentlewomen, when they are disposed to sporte thēselues: [Page 31] as y ^t good man did, that dwelles not farr hence, nere to S. Brancatio. And in feastes & at table, wee must beware wee doe not re­hearse any sorowfull tales, nor put then in minde of woundes, of sicknes, of deathes, of Plagues, or of other dolefull matters. But if another man chaunce to moue suche matter: it shalbe good, after an honest and gentell sorte, to exchaunge that talke, and thrust in some other, y ^t may giue them more delighte and pleasure to heare it. Albeit, not long since I heard it said to a worthy gen­tleman our neighbour, that Men haue many times more neede to weepe then to laugh. And for that cause hee said, these dolefull tales, which wee call Tragedies, were deuised at first, that when they were plaid in the Theatres (as at that time they were wōt) they might draw fourth teares out of their eyes, that had neede to spēd thē. And so they were by their weeping, healed of their infirmitie. But albeit it bee good to doe so: yet it will il becōe vs to driue men into theyr dumpes: especially where they bee mett to feaste and to solace them­selues, & not to mourne. For if there be any, y ^t hath suche weeping disease: it will bee an easie matter to cure it, w ^t stronge Mustard or a smoaky house. So that, in no wyse, [Page 32] I can excuse our friend Philostrato, for his Boce. Gior. 4. fol 183. In the beginning. worke that hee made full of dule and of death, to suche a company as desired no­thing more then myrthe. Wee must the rather vse sylence, then discourse of suche sorrowfull matters.

And they doe asmuch amisse too, that ne­uer haue other thing in their mouthe, then their children, their wife, and their nourse. My litle boy, made mee so laughe yesterday: heare you: you neuer savve a svveeter babe in your life: my wyfe is such a one, Cecchina told mee: of troth you vvould not beleeue vvhat a vvit shee hath: There is none so idle a bo­dy, that will eyther intend to answer, or abyde to heare suche foolishe pryttle prat­tle. For it yrcks a mans eares to harken vnto it.

There be some againe, so curious in tel­ling their dreames from point to point, v­sing such wonder and admiration withall, Dreames. y ^t it makes a mans hart ake to heare them: & specially because (for y ^e most parte) they be such kinde of people: as it is but labour lost to heare, euē the very best exployts they doe, when they be most awake, and labour most to shew their best. Wherfore we must not trouble men with so base and absurde matter as dreames bee: especially suche [Page 33] foolyshe things, as most tymes men haue. Albeit I haue heard say many times, that wisemen in times past, haue leaft in their bookes many sortes of dreames, conteining matters of deepe knowledge and vnderstā ­ding: it followeth not yet, that wee, the vn­learned and common sorte of people, should vse it in our familiar and common talke. And sure of all the dreames that euer I heard (albeit I hardly listen to any) in my cōceit, I neuer heard any, that was worth the hearing but one alone, which the good Master Flaminio Tomarozzo a gentleman of Rome did see, a man not vnlearned and M. Flaminio Tomarozzo. grosse: but full of knowledge and singular witte. And thus was his dreame, This gētlemā Master Flaminio Tomarozzo, thought he was sitting in a very riche Apothecaries shop, a neere neighbour of his. And after he had byn there a while (what soeuer the occasiō was) the people vvere vp in a rore one a sodayne, and fell to spoilyng of all that vvas in the shoppe. One tooke on Electuarie another a Confectiō, some one thing, some another, and presently eate it vpp all: So that within a while, there was neither vitell glasse, ertherne pot, wodden boxe, nor any pot els of drugges, that was not emptied broken, or ouerthrowne. But amongest them all ther vvas one verye small glasse, full to the [Page 34] toppe of verie cleare vvater, vvhich many did smell to, but no man vvould taste. He stoode not there long, but there came in a tall man, an aged and very graue man, to looke vnto. This Aged father beholding this vnfortunate Apo­thecaries boxes and pottes, and finding some emptyed, some ouerthrowne, and the better parte broken: at lenght casting his eye asyde, he chaunced to see the smal glasse I spake of before, and setting the same to his mouthe, hee dranke it vp so cleane: that he leaft not one droppe. And this doone, he went from thence as the rest did before. Master Flaminio vvas abashed and mar­ueled muche at this matter. And therefore turning to the Apothecarie he sayed vnto him: Syr, whoe is this that came laste? and why did he drinke vp so sauourly, all the vvater in that litle glasse, vvhich all the reast refused. To vvhome the Apothecarie seemed to make this aunsvver. My sonne, this is the Lord God. And the vvater, that hee alone dranke, and all the reast refused & vvould not taste as you savv: vvas discretiō: vvhich, you knovv vvel ynough men vvill not taste of, by any meanes.

Such kind of dreames, I hould well a man may rehearse, and heare with much pleasure and profit. Bycause they doe more resemble, the Cogitations & thoughts of an awakened minde: or better, I [Page 35] shoulde say, the vertue sensitiue: then the visions and syghts of a drowsie head. But those other dreames, without shape, falshiō or sense: (which the moste parte of suche men as we are, bee wont to haue) would be forgotten cleane, and lost with our sleepe. Howbeit, I doe not deny but the dreames of good men and learned, be better and wi­ser then theires of the wicked and more vnlearned sorte.

And albeit a man would weene, there can bee nothing in the worlde more vaine then Dreames: yet there is one thing more light then they, and that are Lyes. For there Lyes. is yet some shadovve, and, as it vvere, a certaine feeling of that vvhich a man hath seene in his dreame. But there is neyther shadovve nor bodye of a trueth in a lye. And therfore we should lesse busie mens eares, and their mindes to harken to lyes, then to dreames, because they bee otherwhile receiued for truethes. But tyme, in the ende, disco­uers suche pelfe: that lyers, not only doe gayne no credite, but no man vouche­safes to harken vnto them, in otherwise (as the men that carry no substaunce in their woordes) then if they had sayde no­thing Men haue a pleasure to lye othervvhile. or blowne a litle wynde. And you shal vnderstād, ther be many y ^t vse to lye, not [Page 36] minding any yll purpose in it, or to make their owne peculiar proffit by it, to hurt o­ther men or shame their neighbour: onely they doe it, for a pleasure they take to tell a lye: as men that drinke not, all for thirst: but for a pleasure they take, to taste of the wine. Other some doe tell lyes, to make a vaine glorious boasting of them selues: vaunting and telling in a brauery, what wonderfull exploits they haue doone, or bearing men in hand, they be greate doc­tours and learned men.

In Silence too, after a sorte, without speache, a mā may tell a lesynge: I meane Lefinges and Countresec­tinges. with his gestures and grace: as some you shall see, that being of meane, or rather base condition and calling, vse suche a solem­nitie in all their doings, and marche so stately, and speake with suche a preroga­tiue, or rather discourse lyke Parleament men, setteling them selues, as it were, in a place of Iudgement, proudly prying about thē like Peacockes: that it is a very death to behold them.

And some suche you shall fynde, that all­though they bee combered with no more wealthe then easily serues their turne: yet will they neuer appeare vnles their neckes be laden with chaines, their fingers full of [Page 37] rings, their cappes beset with agletts, and euery other parte bespangled, as though they would defie y ^e King of Castiglio. Whose behauiours be full of follies and vaine glo­rie, which cometh of pryde, growing of va­nitie it selfe. So that wee must eschew these faults, as foule and vnseemely things. You shall vnderstand, in many Cities, and those of the best, the lawes doe not suffer, that riche men should go muche more gor­geously attyred, then the poore. For poore men thinke they haue a wrong: when mē seeme, but in countenaūce alone, as it were Imperiously to reigne ouer them. So that we must carefully beware we fall not in­to these follies.

Neither must a man boaste of his No­bilitie, his Honour or riches: muche lesse vaunt of his witt, or gloriously reherse to much of his deedes & valiāt Actes, or what Glorious bo­stinge and braggeing. his Auncestors haue done, nor vppō euery occasion, fall in reherfall of suche thinges, as many men doe. For in suche case, a mā would weene, they seeke, either to contend with the Company, (if they be, or will take vppon them to bee, as good Gentlemen, & of as muche wealthe and worthines, as they bee:) or elles to ouercrowe them, (if they liue in meaner condition and calling, [Page 38] then they doe) And as it were to vpbraide them, their poore and base condition of life.

A man must neither embase, nor exalte him selfe to muche out of measure: but ra­ther Exalting and embasing. bury in silēce some parte of his merits, then arrogate to muche vnto him. Bycause Goodnes it selfe, vvhen it excedeth muche is e­uer enuyde of some. And you may be sure, they that embase them selues thus beyond measure, refusing that worship and honour that is but duely their owne of very right: shewe more pryde in this contempte, then they that vsurpe those things, that are not so due vnto them. So y ^t a man perchaūce, might saye, Giotto hath not deserued those Cōmendatiōs y ^t some beleue, in y ^t he refused Bocc. Nouel. 5 Gior. 6. fo. 291 to be called Master: being not only a master but without doubt a singular and cunning master in his art in those daiez. But be it blame, or praise y ^t he deserued: it is most sure, he that refuseth that which euery mā els doth hunt for: sheweth therin, he repro­ueth or contemneth the common opinion of men. And, to contemne the honour & renowne, which other mē gape for so much, is but to glorie and magnifie him selfe a­boue other. For asmuche as there is no man (without he be mad) will refuse and reiect things that be deare and of price: vn­les [Page 39] hee be suche, as hathe plenty and store of those deare and deintye things.

Wee must not boast of those good things that be in vs, nor set them to lyght: for in y ^t one, wee doe vpbraide men their faults: In the other, wee scorne to muche their ver­tues. But it behoueth euery man to speake his owne praise, as litle as hee may. And if occasion driue him vnto it: it shalbe good, modestly to speake the truethe, as I haue told you before.

And therefore, they that desire to doe mē a pleasure: must needes leaue one faulte, y ^t is to common with all men: they must not shewe them selues so afraide and fearefull to speake their mindes, when a man dothe aske their aduise. For, it is a deadly paine to here thē, & specialy if they be mē, in y ^e Iudge mēt of y ^e world, of good vnderstanding and wisedōe. What a fetchig about is this, ere they cōe to y ^e matter? Sir I beseche you pardon mee, if I doe not say vvell. I vvill speake like a gros mā as I am: & grosly according to my pore skil. And Sir, I am sure you vvil but mocke me for it. But yet, to obey you: & they drawe their words forth so lōg, & put thē selues to suche paine: y ^t, while these ceremonies be a doig, y ^e hardest questiō y ^t is, might haue byn deter­mined with fewer words and shorter time: [Page 40] bycause they cannot get out of these protes­tations, when they bee in.

They bee also very tedious to men, and their conuersation & maners are very trou­blesome: whoe shewe too base and abiect a minde in their doings. And where the che­fest and highest place, is apparantly due Abiecte Minde. vnto them: they will euer creepe downe to the lowest. And it is a spitefull buisynes to thrust them vp: For they will straite iogge backe againe, like a resty Iade, or a Nagge that startleth a side at his sha­dowe. So that, there is muche a dooe w ^t them, when wee meete at a doore. For they will not (for all you can dooe) in any case enter before you, but so trauerse their ground, go backe, and so fray and defend with their armes and their handes: that at euery thirde steppe, a man must be rea­dy to wage battell with them: and thus they breake of, all solace and pleasure, and otherwhile, the buisynes they meete a­boute.

And therfore, Ceremonies, which wee name, as you heare, by a straunge terme, as Ceremonies. lacking a worde of our owne, bycause our elders, hauing no knowledge of those su­perstitious fashions, coulde not well giue them a proper name. Ceremonies, I saye, [Page 41] (in my Iudgement,) differ not much from lyes & dreames, for their own very vainesse it selfe. So that wee may couple and ioyne thē together in this our treatise, sithe occasion serues so fytt to speake of them here, As a good man hath often shewed me: those solemnities that church men doe vse at their Altars, and in their diuine ser­uice bothe to God and his holy things, are properly called Ceremonies: but after, men did begyn, to reuerence eche other with cu­rious entertaynements, more then were conuenient, and would be called masters and Lords, amōgest them selues, yealding bending, and bowing their bodyes, in tokē of reuerence one to another, vncouering their heads, vsing highe titles and Styles of honour, and kyssing their hands as if they were hollye things: some body, by like considering all these things well, and fin­ding these newe founde curious follyes without any name: thought good to Chris­ten and call them Ceremonies, but sure in a iest as I take it: as to be mery and make good cheare, we terme it in sport, a triūph: which custome, no doubt, tooke not his be­ing at vs, but elles where, as barbarous & straunge: and not long since, from whence I knowe not, transported into Italie: [Page 42] whose deedes being wretched, and effects base and vile, hath gotten encrease and ho­nor, in vayne woords alone, and superflu­ous titles.

Ceremonies then, if we cōsider well theie intēts that vse them: are but vaine shewes of honour and reuerence, towardes him to whome they be doone: framed of semblance and wordes touching their titles and cour­tious offers. I say vaine: In that we ho­nour mē to their face, whome we reuerence not in deede, but otherwhile cōtemne. And neuertheles, because we may not go agaist custome, wee giue them these titles: The most honorable Lord suche a one: the Noble Lord suche a one. And so otherwhile wee offer them our humble seruice: whome wee could better vnserue then serue, & cōmaund then doe them any duety.

Thē not Lesinges alone, but also Treache­ries and Treasons, shalbe called Ceremonies. But because these wordes and these titles aboue rehersed, haue lost their strēgth: and waste, (as a man may say of Irō) their tē ­per, w ^t such continuall occupying of it as we doe vse: we must not so precisely way them as other wordes, nor so strictly construe the meaning of them. And, that this is true, that which allwayes happens to all men, [Page 43] dothe shewe it playne inoughe. For if wee meete with a man, we neuer sawe before: with whome, vppon some occasion, it be­houes vs to talke: without examining wel his worthines, most commonly, that wee may not offend in to litle, we giue him to much, and call him Gentleman, and other­while Sir, althoughe he be but some Souter or Barbar, or other suche stuffe: and all by­cause he is appareled neate, somewhat gen­tleman lyke.

And as men in tymes past, were wont to Titles by Priuilege. haue vnder the Priuilege of the Pope & Em­perour, peculiar & distinct titles of honour, which might not be vntouched, without doing wrong to the priuileged men: nor a­gaine attributed & geuen without a scorne, to them that were no such priuileged per­sones: So at this daie, wee must more freely vse those titles, and the other signi­fications of honour, like to those titles: by­cause Custome the mightiest Lorde hathe largely therewith, priuileged men of our time.

This vse and custome, though so fayre and gallant without, is altogether vaine within, and consisteth in semblance with­out effect, & in wordes without meaning. [Page 44] But this notwithstanding, it is not lawful Custom must not be altered for vs to chaunge it: but rather, bycause it is not our fault, but the fault of our tyme, wee are bounde to followe it: but yet wee must discretely doe it.

So that wee are to noate, that Ceremo­nies The end why ceremonies be vsed. Ceremonies for profit. are vsed, eyther for a Profit, or for a Va­nitie, or for a Duetie. And euery lye that is told for a mans priuate profit: is a deceite, a sinne, and a dishonest parte: for, in what so euer it bee, A man can neuer honestly lye.

And this is a common fault with flatte­rers, that counterfet them selues to be our friendes, and apply them selues euer to our desiers, what soeuer they be: not bycause wee would haue it so, but to the ende wee should doe them some pleasure, for it. And this is not to please vs, but to deceiue vs. And albeit this kind of fault be, peraduen­ture, by reason of custome sufferable: yet notwithstanding bycause of it selfe, it is fowle and hurtefull, it yll becomes a gentle man to doe it. For it is no honestie to seeke a pleasure by the hurt of another. And if lyes and false flatteries, may bee termed Cere­monies (as I haue sayde before:) so oft, as we vse them for respect of our gain & profit: so oft wee doe hazard our good name and credite: so that this consideration alone, [Page 45] myght moue vs well to leaue all Ceremo­nies, and vse them no more.

It resteth now that I speake of those y ^t Dutifull cere­monies. bee done of Dutie, and of those that be done of a Vainesse. As touching y ^e first, VVe must not leaue them vndone in any wise. For he that faileth to doe them, dothe not onely dis­please, but doth a wrong to him, to whome they be due. And many times it chaunceth, y ^e men come to daggers drawing, euē for this occasion alone, that one man hath not done the other, that worship and honour vppon the way, that he ought. For to saye a trueth The power of custome is great & of much force, Custome is a lawe. (as I said) and would be taken for a lawe, in these cases. And that is the cause we say: You: to euery one, that is not a man of ve­ry base calling, and in suche kinde of speach You. wee yealde such a one, no maner of courte­sie of our owne. But if wee say: Thou: to suche a one, then wee disgrace him and of­fer Thou. him outrage and wronge: and by suche speach, seeme to make no better reconing of him, then of a knaue and a clowne.

And although the tymes past, and other countryes, haue vsed other maners: let vs yet, keepe our selues to our owne: And let not vs dispute the matter, which is the bet­ter oftwaine. For wee must obserue, not [Page 46] those, that we Iudge in our owne conceits to be good: but suche, as be currant by cus­tome, & vsed in our owne tyme: as lawes, which we be bound to keepe, thoughe they be not all of the best, tyll suche tyme, as the magistrates, the Prince, or they that haue power to amēd them, haue chaunged them to better.

So that It behoues vs, hedefully to marke the doings and speache, wherewith daily prac­tise and custome, wonteth to receaue, salute, & name in our owne country, all sortes and kinds Bocc Nouel. 6 Gior. 5. fo. 259 of people, and in all our familiar communicatiō with men, let vs vse the same. And notwith­standing Peter the King of Ara­gon. the Admerall (as peraduēture the maner of his time was suche) in his talke with Peter the King of Aragon, did many times: Thou him: Let vs yet saye to our King: Your maiestie: and your highnes: as­well in speache as in writing. And if they haue followed the vse of their time: then let not vs breake the fashions of ours. And these doe I call Duetifull Ceremonies, bycause they proceede not, as we would, or of our free willes: but are layde vppō vs by the Lawes: I meane, Common custome.

And in suche things, as carry no euill mea­ning in them, but rather some face of courtesie: reason would and commaundeth, vve shoulde [Page 47] rather obserue common Custome, then dispute and lay the lawe for them.

And albeit, to kisse in shewe of reuerence, of very right appertayneth to the reliques of Saints and there holy matters: yet if it bee the maner of your country, at parting, to say: Signori, Io vi bascio la mano. Or: Io son vostro seruidore: Or els: vostro schiauo in cate­na: I kisse your hande: I am your seruaūt: your staue in chayne. you must not disdaine it, more then other. But, In farewelles and writings, you must salute and take leaue, not as reason, but as custome will haue you: and not as mē wont in times past, or should doe: but as men vseat this day: for it is a chorlishe maner to say: VVhat greate gentleman is he I pray you, that I must master him: Or: is he becom master parson, that I must kisse his hands, for he that is wont to be (Sird) and likewise (Sirreth) other: may thinke you disdaine him, and vse some out­rage vnto him, when you call him to his face, by his bare name, and giue him no addition.

And these termes of Seignory, seruice, & duetye, and such other like vnto these, as I haue sayde: haue lost a greate parte of their harshnes, and (as hearbes lōg steepte in the water) are sweetened, and made softe and tender, by reason of muche speache in mens mouthes, and cōtinuall vse to speake them. [Page 48] So that we must not abhorre thē, as some rude and rusticall fellowes, full of foolishe simplicitie, doe: that would fayne beginne the letters we write to Kinges and Empe­rours after this sort. vz. Yf thou and thy children be in healthe it is well: I am also in healthe: saying, that suche was the begin­ning of the letters, the Latins did write to the magistrates of Rome. If men should liue by their measure, and go backe to those fashions and maners, our first fathers dyd vse: the worlde thē by litle and litle, would come so about, that we should feede vppon acornes againe.

And in these Duetifull Ceremonies, there be also certain rules and precepts, we must obserue: that wee may not bee touched w ^t Vanitie and plyde. Respect of countrey. Vainesse and Pride. And first of all, wee must consider the country where wee doe liue. For all customes be not currant a lyke in all countreys. And peraduenture that which they vse in Naples, which is a Citye replenished with gentlemen, of good hou­ses and Lordes of greate power, were not so fitte for Florens and Luke: Which are in­habited, for the most part, with Merchāts and plaine gentlemē, without any Prince, Marques, or Barone amongest them. So that the braue and Lordelike manners of [Page 49] the gentlemē of Naples transported to Flo­rence: should be but waste, and more then needes: like a tall mans gowne cast ouer a dwarfe: as also the manners of Florence shoulde be to pinchinge and straite, for the Noble natures and mindes of the gētlemē of Naples. And although the gētlemē of Ve­nice, vse great embracings and entertaine­mentes amongst themselues, and fawne without measure the one on the other, by reasō of their offices, degrees and fauours they looke to finde when they meete and as­semble and choose their officers: yet for all this, it is not conuenient, that the good men of Rouigo, or the Citizens of Asolo, should vse the lyke solēnities, embraceings and entertainemēts one to another, haue­ing no such kinde of cause amongst them: Albeit all that same countrie (if I bee not deceiued) is faine a litle, into these kinde of follies, as ouer carelesse and apt inough by nature, or rather learning those maners of Venice their Lady and Mistris: because Euerie man gladly seeketh to tread the steps of his better: although there be no reasō for it.

Moreouer we must haue a regarde to Time, age, condicion & calling must be respected. the time, to the age, and the condition of him, to whom we vse these ceremonies, and likewise respect our owne calling: and with [Page 50] men of credite maintaine them: but w ^t men of small account cut them of cleane, or at least, abridge them as muche as wee may, & rather giue them a becke thē a due garde: Which the courtiers in Rome can very well skill to doe.

But in some cases these Ceremonies be ve­ry combersome to a mans busines, and ve­ry In what case Ceremonies be cumber­lome. tedious: as, Couer your head, sayes the Iudge, y ^t is busied w ^t causes, and is scanted of time to dispatche them. And this fellow so full of these Ceremonies, after a number of legges and shuflinge curtesis, aunswers againe: Sir I am very well thus. But sayes the Iudge agayne, Couer your head I say. Yet this good fellow tourning twise or thrise to & fro, making lowe conges downe to the grounde w ^t muche reuerence and hu­militie, aunswers him, still: I beseache your worship, let me doe my duetie. This busines and trouble lasteth so long, & so muche tune is trifled: that the Iudge might very nere haue dispatched all his busines within that space. Then, although it be euery honest mans parte, and the duety of euery mea­ner body, to honour the Iudges, and mē y ^t be called to worship & honour: yet, where time wyll not beare it: it is a very trouble­some thing to vse it, and it must be eschew­ed, [Page 51] or measured with reason.

Neyther be y ^t self same Ceremonies seme­ly for young mē, respecting their Age: y ^t ould mē doe vse together. Nor yet can it becom men of meane and base condition, to vse the very same, y ^t gētlemē & greate men may vse one to another. And if wee marke it well, we shall find, y ^t the greatest, y ^e best men, & mē of most valour, doe not alwayes vse y ^e most Ceremonies thē selues, nor yet loue nor looke a mā should make many goodly curtsies vnto them, as men that can ill spend their thoughts one matters so vaine.

Neither must handy crafts men, nor mē of base condition, buisie thē selues to much, in ouer solemne Ceremonies to greate men, and Lordes: it is not lookt for in suche. For they disdaine them, more then allowe thē: because it seemes that in such, they seeke & looke, rather for obedience and duetie, then honour. And therefore it is a foule faulte in a seruaūt, to offer his master his seruice: for he coūts it his shame, & he thinks the seruāt doth make a doubt, whether he is master or no: as if it were not in him to imploy him, & cōmaūd him too. These kinde of Ceremo­nies would be vsed frankely. For, VVhat a man dothe of duetie, is taken for a debte, and hee finds him selfe litle beholding to [Page 52] him that doth it. But he that dothe more, then he is bound to: it seemes he parteth with somewhat, and that makes men to loue him, and to commende him for a libe­rall man. And I remember mee well, I haue hearde it sayde, that a worthy Graeciā a greate versifier, was euer wont to saye: that He that could skill to entertaine men with a small aduenture, made a greate gayne.

You shall then vse youre Ceremonies, as the tailer shapes his garments, rather to large then to litle: but yet not so, that hee cutteth one hose large inough to make a cloke. And if thou doe vse in this point, some litle gentle behauiour, to suche as be meaner then thy selfe: thou shalt be coun­ted lowly. And if thou doe asmuche to thy betters: thou shalt bee sayde a Gētlemā well taught, and courtious. But hee that dothe her in to muche, and is ouer lauishe, Vanitie. shalbe blamed as vaine and light: and per­haps worse thought of too: counted a busie body, a fidging fellowe, and in wise mens sight, a flatterer: which vice, our elders haue called, (if I doe not forget me) dowble diligence. And there is no faulte in the worlde, more to bee abhorred, or y ^t worsse beseemes a gentleman, then this. And this is the thirde maner of Ceremonies, which [Page 53] simply procedeth of our owne will, and not of custome.

Let vs thē remēber, that Ceremonies, (as I haue alwayes sayd) were not so necessa­rie by nature, but a man might doe well inough without them: As for example, our coūtrie liued (it is not long since) in maner cleane without any. But other mens di­seases haue infected vs, with these infirmi­ties and many mo. So that, custome and vse obserued: the rest that is more, is but waste: and such a sufferable leesing, as if it be more in deede then is in vse, it is not only vnsufferable, but forbidden: and so vppon, the matter, a cold and vnsauourie thing to noble mindes, that cannot brouse vppon shrubbes and shewes.

And you shall vnderstand, that trusting my owne skill but little, in wryting this present treatise: I thought good to consult with many, and to take the Iudgement of better learned men then my selfe. And this in my reading I finde. There was a King, they call him Oedipus: being bani­shed Oedipus. and driuen out of his countrie (vppon what occasion I know not) he fled to King Theseus at Athens, the better to saue him selfe and his life, from his enemies, that Theseus. mainely pursued him. This Oedipus now [Page 54] comming before the presence of Theseus, by good chaūce hearing his daughter speake, (whome he knew by her voice, for he was blind and could not beholde her with his eyes) he was so presently striken with ioy, that, not tarying to doe his allegeaūce and duetie to the King, he did presētly embrace, & make much of his daughter before him: his fatherly affection so led him, and rulde him so. But in the end finding his fault, and better aduising him selfe of his doings: he would needs excuse it to Theseus, & hum­bly prayd his grace to pardon his folly. The good and wise King, cut of his talke, and bad him leaue his excuses, and thus saide vnto him: Comfort thy selfe Oedipus, and bee not dismayd at that thou hast done. For I will not haue my life honoured with other mens woordes, but with my owne deedes. Which sētēce a man should haue alwaies in mind.

And albeit men be well pleased, that mē doe giue them worship & honour: yet when they find them selues cuningly courted, they be soone weary of it, and also disdaine it. For these glauerings, or flatteries I should say, to amend their knaueries & false­hoodes, haue this fault withall: that these glauering fellowes doe plainly shewe, they count him, whome they court in this sorte, [Page 55] but a vaine, and arrogant bodie, an asse of grose capacitie, and so simple, y ^t it should be an easie matter to bayte him and take him too. And these Vaine and Curious Cere­monies, besides that they be superfluous: so they beare with all a shape of flattery, so slenderly couered, that euery man doth opēly see them, and know them plaine: in suche sorte, that they that doe them, to the end to make a gaine, besides that ill that is in them, wher­of I spake before: shewe them selues also, gentlemen ill taught, without good maner or any honest fashion.

But there is another sorte of Ceremoni­ous people, who make it an arte and mer­chandise, and keepe a booke and a reconing of it. One these men (they say) they must smile, on such men they must laughe: and, y ^e better man shall sit in the chayr, and the o­ther vppon a lowe stoole: which supersti­tions Ceremonies, I beleue, were transpor­ted out of Spaine into Italie. But our country, hath geuen them but colde en­tertainement, and as yet they haue ta­ken but slender roote here: for this pre­cise difference of worship, and gentry, is not liked of, with vs. And therefore it is but ill maner, for a man to make him selfe Iudge, which is the better man.

[Page 56] But it is much worse for a man to make a sale of his Ceremonies and entertainmēts, (after y ^e maner of harlots) as I haue seene many gentlemen doe in the court, geuing good wordes and faire countenaunces for a rewarde and recompence, of the goods and the tyme, their seruaunts haue spent in their seruice.

And sure they that take a pleasure to vse ouer many Ceremonies, more then neede: shewe they doe it vppon a lustines and bra­uery, as men that haue nothing elles in thē of any valour.

And bycause these follies are learned w ^t ease inough, and carry withall a litle fayre glose in shewe: they bestowe all their whole mindes none other waye. But graue matters they can not abide to weelde, as things to farre aboue their reache: and coulde finde in their harts to dwell in these toyes and tryfles, as men whose capacitie conceiueth nought of Importaunce: like tender mylkesops that can beare no brūt: or that, beside a glorious outside, haue not mettall inough in thē to abide a flea byting. And therfore, they could wishe it worse: that these entertainments and acquaintāce with mē, should go no further then the first sight. And of these there bee an infinite [Page 57] number.

And some againe be to full of words, and abound to muche in curtious gestures to couer and hyde the defects and faults of their treacheries, and their vile & base natures: For they see, if they should be as barē & rude in their woords, as they be in their deeds & their doings, mē would in no case abide them. And to saye a trueth, yow shall finde y ^t out of these two causes, drawe most men one, to vse these wast and needles Ce­remonies, and nothing els: which lightly most men cannot away withall, bycause they be hindered by them, & their meanes, to liue as they would, and lose their liber­tie: whiche a mā dothe preferre aboue any thing ells.

Wee must not speake yll of other mē, nor of their doings: althoughe it plainely ap­pere, that men do willingly bēd good eare to heare it, as easily moued therto, by y ^e na­ture of malice and enuy, that pynes at our Neighbours prosperity and rising to worship & honour: for at lēgth mē will es­chewe the acquayntaūce of Slaūderous Slaundering. people, as much as they shunne the Oxe, y ^e goreth with his horns, or strikes w ^t his feete: making their reconing, that what they tell them of vs, asmuche they will tell [Page 58] vs, of them.

And some ther be, that so quarel at eue­ry Quareling. Wrangling. Ouerthwar­ing. word, question, and wrangle, that they shew they haue litle skill in other mens natures: for, Euery man desireth the victory should go one his syde: and hates it asmuche, to be mastered in words, as to be vanquished in any other acte that he dothe. So y ^t, willfully to ouerthvvart a man, it workethe no Loue and good vvill: but rather displeasure, rancoure and malice. And therfore, he that sekes to be well thought of, and would be taken for a plesaunt and good Companion, must not so redily vse these speaches: It was not so: And, Nay: it is as I tell you. I wil lay a vvager vvith you: But he must rather take payns, to apply himself to other mēs mīds cōcerning such things, as haue matter of small importaunce: Bycause the victorye, in such cases, is daungerous: for, the gay­ninge the cause, in tryfling questions, doth often loose the Loue of a faithfull friend. And men are so farre out of loue & liking, of such hot fellowes: that they will by no meanes growe acquaynted with suche, least they be dryuen euery hower to bralle, to chide, and to fighte with them for it. And suche kinde of people doe [Page 59] purchase these names: Maister Vniciguer­ra: Conquerour. Ouerthwaiter. Know all. The subtile Doctour. Or, Sir Contraponi: Or, Sir Tuttessalle: And sometime: il Dottor suttile.

And if you chaunce otherwhile, to be in­treated of the cōpany to speake your mind: I would haue you doe it after a gentle sort, without shewing your selfe so greedie to carry the bucklers away, as if you would eate them vp for haste. But thou must Leaue to euery man his parte: And bee it right or vvronge, consent to the minds of the most, or the most importunate: and so leaue the fielde vnto them: that some other, and not your selfe, may beate and sweat, and chace in the winning of the cause. For these quarelous conten­tions, bee foule and ill fauoured fashions for gentlemen to vse: and they get them ill will and displeasure of all men for it: and they bee vncomely for their owne vnseemelines, which of it selfe offendeth euery good honest minde, as it may chaūce you shall heare hereafter.

But the common fault of men is such, Counceling and reprouing and eche man is so infected with this selfe loue and liking of him selfe: that he hath no respect or care to please any man ells. [Page 60] And to shewe them selues fine headed, of muche vnderstanding, and wise: they counsell, reproue, dispute, and bralle, to daggers drawing, and allowe nothing els but that they say them selues.

To offer aduyse vnrequested: what is it els but to vaunt youre selfe wiser then he is, whom you do counsell: nay rather, it is a playne checke to him, for his Ignoraunce and folly. And therfore, you must not do so, with all your acquaintance generally: but only with your very friendes, or suche whō you are to gouerne & rule: or els, whē a man hapely standes in daunger & perill, how muche a straunger so euer he be. But in our common Acquaintance and conuer­sation, Let vs not busy our selues, and medle to muche vvith other mens doings. In which fault many doe fall: but most of all, the men of least vnderstanding. For, Men of grose apacities, consider but litle: And they take no longe time to debate with them selues, as men that haue litle busines to doe.

But how so euer it be, hee that of­fereth He that coun­selleth hath euer a good conceite of him selfe. and geueth his counsell: geues vs to thinke, hee hathe this conceite of him selfe: that all the witt is in him, [Page 61] and other poore men haue none at all.

And sure there bee some, that stand so muche in conceite of their wit: that they will be in maner, at warres, with him, tha: wil not follow the counsell they giue them. And thus they will say. Very vvell: a poore mans counsell vvill not be taken: suche a one vvill doe as he list: suche a one geues no heede to my vvordes. As though there were not more Arrogancie in thee, that sekest to bring a man to followe thy Counsell: then there is in him, that followes his owne aduise.

And they doe also make the like fault, y ^t take vppon them to reproue and correct Reprouing and correc­ting of faul. mens faults, and to geue a definite sentēce in all things, and lay the lawe to all men. Suche a thing would not be done: You spake suche woordes: Doe not so: say not so: The wine that you drinke is not good for you: but would bered vvine. You should vse suche an Electua­rie, and suche pilles: And they neuer leaue to reproue and correct. And let vs passe that ouer, that otherwhile, they busy them selues so much, to purge other mēs groūds: that their owne is ouergrowen, and full of thornes and nettles. For it is a meruailous payne vnto them, to heare one that syde.

And as there be few or none, whose mids [Page 62] can frame, to spend their lyfe with a Physi­tion, a Confessour, and muche lesse a Iudge that hath iurisdiction and power to con­trowle and correct all criminall faultes: so is ther not one, that can take any plea­sure to lyue, or make himself familiar with suche Censors: so hard, and seuere. For, eue­ry man loueth libertye: and they woulde robbe vs of it, and get to be our masters. So that it is no good māner to be so redye to corect and giue rules vnto mē: we must geue Scholemasters and Fathers leaue to do that. And yet that notwithstanding, experience doth shewe, the childeren and scholers both, do often hide them selues frō them, you see.

Doe not allow, that a man should scorne Scornes and Scoffes. or scoffe at any man, what so euer he be: no not his very enimy, what displeasure so euer he beare him: for, it is a greater signe of contempt and disdaine, to scorne a man, then to do him an opē vvrōg: forasmuch as vvrongs may be done, eyther of choler, or of som couet­ous mynde or other. And ther is no mā will take a displeasure with that, or for that, he doth not set by: nor yet couet that thing, he doth altogether contemne.

So that, a man doth make some accōpt of [Page 63] him he dothe wronge: but of him that he scoffes and scornes, he makes no reconing at all, or as litle as may be.

And the Nature and effect of a scorne, is properly to take a contentation and pleasure to The Nature of a scorne or a scoffe. do another man shame and villany: thoughe it do our selues no good in the world. So that, good maner & honesty, would vs be­ware we scorne no man in any case: wher­in they be much to be blamed, that reproue men those blemishes they haue in their person, eyther in woords, as Master Forese da Rabatta did, laughing at the coūtenaunce of Master Giotta: or in deeds, as many doe, counterfeting those that stutter, haulte, or be crookte shoulderd. And likewyse, they that scoffe at any man, that is defor­med, ill shapen, leane, litle, or a dwarfe, at much to be blamed for it: or, that make a gybing and iesting at such follyes as an­other man speaketh, or the woordes that escape him by chaunce: and with all, haue a sporte and a pleasure to make a mā blush: all these spitefull behauiours and fashions, worthely deserue to be hated, and make them that vse them, vnworthy to Boec, Nouel. 5. Gior. 6. fo. 297. beare the name of an honest gentleman.

And such as vse to iest at a man, be ve­ry lyke vnto these: I meane them that [Page 64] haue a good sport to mocke and beguile mē, Morkes. not in spite or scorne, but on a meriment a­lone. And you shall vnderstand, There is Difference betwen a scorne and a mocke no difference betvveene a scorne and a mocke: but the purpose alone and intent a man hath, in the meaning the one the other. For a man mockes and laughes otherwhile, in a sport and a pastime: but his scorne is euer in a rage and disdaine. Although in common speache and wryting, wee take the one woorde sometyme for the other. But He that doth scorne a man: feeleth a contentation in the shame he hath done him: And hee that dothe mocke, or but laughe: taketh no con­tentation in that he hath done: but a sport, to be merry & passe the time away: where it would be, both a greefe and a sorrow, per chaunce, vnto him, to see that man receaue any shame, by any thing he said or did vnto him.

And althoughe I profited litle, in my Grammar in my youthe: yet I remember that Mitio, who loued Aeschines so muche, that he him selfe had wōder at it: yet other while, toke a sporte & a pleasure to mocke him: as when he said to him selfe: I vvill go to giue him a mocke: so that, I must in­ferre, that the selfe same thing, done to the very selfe same body: according to the in­tent [Page 65] of him that doth it, may be eyther a mocke or scorne.

And bycause our purpose, cannot be plainely knowne vnto other men: it shall not be good for vs to vse such parts, as bring men in doubt and suspicion, what our intent and meaning is in them: but rather let vs eschewe them, then seeke to be counted Iesters. For, It many times chaunceth, in boording and Iesting, one tackes in sporte, the other strykes againe in earnest: & thus from playing, they come to fraying. So, he that is familiarly mockte in pas­time, recons it, otherwhile, to be done to his shame & dishonour, and therat he takes a disdaine. Besides this, A mocke is no bet­ter, then a deceyte. And naturally, it gre­ueth euery man to erre and be deceyued. So that, many Reasons ther be to proue, That He that seekes to purchase goodwill, and be well thought of: must not make him selfe to cunning in mockes and Iestes.

It is very true, we are not able, in no wise, to leade this paineful lyfe, altogether without some pleasure and solace: And by­cause Iestes do geue vs some sporte, and make vs merry, and so cōsequētly refreash our spirits: we loue them that be plea­saunt, merry conceited, and full of solace. [Page 66] So that a body would thinke, I should ra­ther persuade the contrarie: I meane, I shoulde say: It is conuenient and meete in company, to vse prety mockes, and otherwhile some Iestes and taunts. And without doubt, they that can slint after a friendly and gē ­tle sort, be muche more made of, and bet­ter beloued then they that cannot skill or haue no wit to doe it. Howbeit, it is neede­ful in this, to haue a respect to many thīgs.

And forasmuche as it is the intēt of him that doth Iest: to make a sport and pastime at his faulte, whome he doth loue and es­teeme, and of whom he doth make more thē a commō account: it must be well lookte to, that the fault, wherin his friend hath fal­len, be suche, as he may sustaine no slaun­der or shame, or any harme by any talke or Ieste he makes vppon it: otherwise, his skil doth ill serue him, to make a good diffe­rence betweene a pleasaunt Iest, and a ve­ry plaine wronge.

And there be some men, so short & so testy, that you must, in no wise, be merry, nor vse Bocc. Nouel. 8 Gior. 9. fo. 430 any iesting with them. And that can Bion­dello well tell, by Mayster Philippo Argenti in the gallery of Cauiccioli.

And moreouer, It cannot be good to ieaste No Iesting in matters of weight or of shame. in matters of weite, and muche lesse in matters of shame. For, men will weene that wee haue a good sporte (as the common saying [Page 67] is) to bragge and boast in our euill: as it is Bocc. Nouel. 7 Gior. 6. fo. 294. said, the Lady Philippe of Prato, tooke a sin­gular pleasure and contētation in the plea­saūt & prety aūswer she made, to excuse her Lupo is the proper name of a man as­well as a wolfe. loose and wanton life. And therefore, I cannot thinke that Lupo of Vberti did any thing extenuat or lessē his shame: but rather increaste it greater, by the Ieste that hee made to excuse his faulte, and qualifie the opinion of his cowardly minde. For, where he might haue kept him selfe safe without daunger in the castle of Laterin, wherein he was besieged round about, and shutte vp: hee thought hee had plaide the man good inoughe, in that hee could say at the yealding it vp: that A wolfe doth not loue to be besieged and shutte vp. For, where it is out of time for to laughe, there to vse any Iestes or daliaunce, it hath a very colde Grace.

And further, you shall vnderstād, there be some Iestes y ^t bite, & some y ^t bite not at all. For the first sorte: let y ^t wise counsell that Lauretta gaue for that point, suffice to teach Bocc Nouel. 3 Gior. 6. fo. 288 Iestes and Taunts. you: That Iestes must bite the hearer like a sheepe, but not like a dogge. For if it pinche, as the byte of a dogge: it shalbe no more a Ieste but a vvronge. And the lawes al­most in all countries, will, that who saith [Page 68] any villanie vnto a man, shalbe greuously punished for it. And, perchaunce, it were not amisse, to prouide with all, some sharp correction for him, that should byte in way of iesting, beyond all honest measure. But gentlemen should make account, that the lawe that punisheth wronges, extendeth as farre to iestes, and that they should seldome or very easily nyp or taunt any man.

And besides all this, you must vnderstād, that a iest, whether it bite, or bite not, if it be not fine & full of wit, men take no plea­sure at al to heare it, but rather are wearied with it: or at least wise, if they doe laughe, they laughe not at the iest, but at the iester him selfe, that brings it forthe so colde.

And bycause, Iestes be no other thing but deceites: and deceite (as a thing that is fra­med of subtilenes & craft) cannot be wrought but of men, that haue fine and redy wittes, and very present: therefore they haue no grace in men that be rude, and of grose vnderstā ­ding: nor yet in them alwayes, that haue the best and floweing wittes: as, peraduē ­ture, they did not altogether becōe Master Iohn Boccaccio.

But taūtes and Iestes be a special redi­nes and aptnes of wit, and quicken the motions of the minde: wherefore they that [Page 69] haue discretion, doe not in this point, consi­der their will, but their disposition of na­ture: and after they haue once or twise tried their wittes, and finde them vnfit for suche purpose: they leaue to labour them selues any further in that kind of exercise: that it may not chaunce vnto them, that hapt to the knight of the lady Horetta. And if you Bocc. Nouel. 2. Gior. 6. fo. 287. looke in to the maners of many, you shall easily see, this that I tell you is true: I say, that To Iest or to taunt, is not currant with euery man that will, but onely with them that can. And there be many that for euery purpose, haue in their mouth redy, many of these wordes, which wee call Bicticcichi: that haue no maner of sense or meaning in them. And some, that vse very foolishly and fondly to chaunge Sillables into woords. And some you shall heare speake and make answer, otherwise thē a man would light­ly Bycause these speaches haue no grace in our English toūge, I leaue them in the I­talian. But our toung hath such ab­surd iests as plentifully as any other toung. looke for, without any wit or pleasure in the world in their talke. And if you doe aske them, Doue e il signore? they answer a­gaine. Doue egli ha i piedi: and likewise. Gli frae vnguer le mani con le grascia di signore Giouan Boccadoro. Doue mi manda egli? Ad Arno. Io mi voglio radere, Sarebbe meglio ro­dere. Va chiama il Barbieri. Et perrhe non il Barbadomanie. Al which be to grose, to rude, [Page 70] and to stale: and such were almost, all the pleasaunt purposes and iestes of Dioneo. Bocc. Nouel. 10. Gior. 5. fo. 281.

But I will not take vppon me at this tyme, to discourse of the best and the worst kinde of iestes, what they be: aswel for that other men haue written treatises therof much more lernedly and better thē I can: as also, bycause iestes & tauntes, haue at first sight, a large and sure proofe of their grace or disgrace: such, as thou canst not do much amisse in this point, w ^tout thou stand to much in thy owne conceyte, and think to well of thy selfe: for where the iest is prety and pleasaunt, there a man straite is merry, and shewes a liking by laughīg, and makes a kinde of admiration of it. So that, where the company geues foorth no liking of thy sportes and conceites, by their mirthes and their laughing: hould thy selfe still then, and iest no more. For it is thy owne faulte thou must think, and not theirs that do heare the: forasmuch as the hearers, as it were allured, with the redye, pleasaunt, and subtile aunswers or que­stions (do what they can, will they or nill they) cannot forbeare their laughing, but laughe in spyte of their teeth. From whom as from our right & lawfull Iudges, wee must not appeale to our selues.

Neither must a man, to make other men merie, speake foule and filthie wordes, nor [Page 71] make ilfauoured gestures, distorting his coū tenaūce, & disfiguring his bodie. For, No mā should, for other mēs pleasures, dishonest & dis­honour him self. It is an arte for a Iuggler & iester to vse: it doth not become a gentleman Bocc. Nouel. 10. Gior. 5. fo. 281. It is the beginning of a sōg. to do so. We must not then, imitate y ^e cōmon and rude behauiours of Dioneo. Madonna Aldruda Alzate La coda.

Nor we must not coūterfet our selues to be fooles & vnsauorie doltes: but as time & oc­casiō serueth, tell sōe pretie tale or sōe news, neuer heard of before, he y ^t cā: & he y ^t cānot, let him hold his peace. For, these be y ^e partes of y ^e wit: which, if they be sodain & prety, giue a proofe & a shew of y ^e quicknes of y ^e wit, & the goodnes of y ^e maners of him y ^t speakes thē: which thing doth verie much please men & makes thē our louers & friends. But if they be otherwise, they woorke thē a cōtrary ef­fect. For, a mā would weene the asse would play his parte: or y ^e sōe hody dody & louberly lout would friske and daūce in his doublet. There is another plesaūte kind of cōmum­ratiō: Long talke & discourse. & y ^t is whē y ^e pleasure & grace doth not cōsist in one merrie cōceite alone, but in lōg & cōtinued talke: which would be well dis­posed, wel vttered, & very wel set forth, to shew y ^e maners, y ^e fashiōs, y ^e gestures & behauiours of thē we speke, of so properly & liue­as [Page 72] y ^e hearer should think that he heareth thē not rehearsed, but seeth them with his eyes do those very thigs he heares them to speak of: which be very well obserued by the gen­tlemen and gentlewomen both, in Boccace: although yet otherwhile (if I be not decei­ued) they do affect and counterfet, more thē is sightly for a gentleman or gentlewoman to doe, like to these Comedie Players. And to doe this well, you must haue the matter, the tale, or the story, you take vppon you to tell, perfect in your minde: and woordes so redy and fit, that you neede not say in the end: That thing, and tother thing: This man, what doe you call him: That matter, helpe me Bocc. Nouel. 2. Gior. 6. fo. 287. to terme it: And, remember what his name is. For this is iust the trot of the knight of the lady Horetta. And if you doe reherse any chaunce, in which there be many spea­kers: you must not say: He said and he aun­swered: bycause this worde (He) serueth for all men. So that the hearer that harkens vnto it, is easily deceiued, and forgets whōe you meane. Then, It behoues them that dis­course matters at length, to vse proper names, & not to chaunge them after.

And more ouer, a mā must beware that he say, not those things, which vnsaide in silence would make y ^e tale pleasaūt inoughe, [Page 73] and, peraduenture, geue it a better grace to leaue them out. As to say thus. Such a one, that was the sonne of such a one, that dwelt in Cocomer streete: do you not knowe him? he maried the daughter of Giansigliazzi, the leane scragge, that went so much to Saynt Laraunce. No? do not you know him? why? do you not re­member the goodly strayght old man that ware long haire dovvne to his shoulders? For if it were nothing materiall to the tale, whether this chaunce befell him, or him: all thys long babble, and fond and folishe questiōs, were but a tale of a Tubbe: to no purpose, more then to weary mens eares that harken to it, and long to vnderstand the end. As peraduenture our Dant hath made this fault otherwhile, where he sayeth:

For, it was to no purpose, whether his mother were borne at Gazuolo, or ells at Cremona.

But I lerned once of a straūger, a Rethori­cian very lerned, a necessarie lesson cōcern­ing this pointꝭ: that Men must dispose and order their tale, first vvith by names, and then [Page 74] rehearse them (as neede is) that be proper. For, the bynames alwayes beare the respect of the persones qualitie: but the other are to be vsed at the Fathers discretion, or his whome they concerne.

And therfore, that bodie whome in your thought and imagination to your selfe, you doe cōceiue, might be Lady Couetousnes her Bocc. Nouel 6 Gior. 1. fo. 41. selfe: in speache you shall call Maister Er­minio Grimaldie: if suche be the common o­pinion, the countrie hathe of him. And, if there be no man in place where you dwell, so notoriously knowne as might serue the turne fit for your purpose: you must then imagine the case further of, and set him a name at your pleasure. It is very true, that VVith muche greater pleasure we harken, and better beholde (as it were with our eyes) what soeuer is told vs of mē of our acquaintāce, if the matter be suche as toucheth their maners: then what vve doe heare of straungers and men vnknovvne vnto vs. And the reason is this: when wee doe knowe, that suche a man is woont to doe so: we doe easily beleeue, he hath doone so indeede: and wee take as­muche knoweledge of him, as if wee were present: where it chaunceth not so with vs, in the case of a straunger.

[Page 75] Our vvordes (be it in longe discourses or other communication) Must be so plaine, that Words would be plaine. all the companie may easily vnderstand them: and withall, for sounde and sense they must be apt and sweete. For if you be to vse one of these two wordes: you shall rather say, Il ventre: then L'Epa. And where your country speache will beare it, you shall ra­ther The, Bellie. The Lyuer. The Paunche. The Bellie. The Bodie. say: La Pancia, then L'Ventre: Or, il Corpo. For, by these meanes you shalbe vnderstoode, and not misse vnderstoode, as we Florentines say, nor be darke and obscure to the hearers. The which thing our Poet, meaning to eschewe: in this very woorde it selfe (I beleue) sought to fīde out another, not thinking muche of his paynes (bycause it lyked him wel) to seeke farre to borrow it els where. And sayd:

And albeit Dant the learned Poet, did set by suche kinde of rules: I doe not think yet, a mā should allow well of him in doing so. And sure, I would not coūcell you to make [Page 76] him your Maister in this point, to learne A Grace: forasmuche as he him selfe had none. For, this I finde in a Chronicle of him.

But to come to our purpose againe: I say, our speache must be plaine: which will be easie inough to doe: if you haue wit to choose those wordes that be naturally bred in our soyle: and with all not so olde w ^t Age, that they are become rotten and withered: and as ouer worne apparell, leaft of and cast a side. As, Spaldo, and Epa, and Vopo, Old woordes out of vse, and Sezzaio, & Primaio. And moreouer, the wordes you shall vse, must haue no double Gergo is a ve­ry doubtfull manner of speache, as it were in Rid­dles: and very ambiguous. vnderstanding, but simple. For by coupling suche wordes together: wee frame that speache that is called Aenigma. And to speake it plainer in our owne language, we call it Gergo. As in this verse:

Againe, our wordes would be, (as nere Apt wordes and proper. as they myght be) aptly and properly appli­ed to that thing we go about to deliuer, & [Page 77] as litle as may be, common to other mat­ters: for, in so doing, a man shall weene, the matter it selfe is openly laide before him: & that it is not expressed with wordes, but pointed foorthe with the finger. And therefore we may more properly say: A man is knowen by his countenaunce, then by his figure or counterfet. And Dant did better expresse the matter, when he saide. Dant. 23. Infer.

Then if he had saide

And it is a more proper and peculiar speache to say, The shiuering of an ague, then to call it The colde. And flesh that is Tidie, to terme it rather, Fatte: then Fulsome.

Ther be some woordes more in this place to like effect, which I meane not to stande vppon now: by cause our Englishe toūge canot hansomely deliuer their perfect mea­ning. For the Italians haue (as we haue, and all other Countries ells as well as wee) certaine peculiar wordes and termes, so naturally and properly their owne, as it is not possible to expresse them aptly and perfectly in any other Language. And therefore the Author him selfe, fearing, or knowing asmuche in the sense of these wordes, [Page 78] which he hath inferred in this place (as it were preuenting a blame) in maner excuseth and speaketh asmuch as I say, as the matter it selfe that insueth doth shewe. For, the Author him selfe following his purpose saith thus.

I am vvell assured, if some straunger should, vnhappely for my credite, hit vppon this tteatise of mine: he vvould laughe mee to scorne, and say that I taught to speake in riddles, or els in Ciphers. For as muche as these vvordes, be almost so properly our ovvne, that other countries haue no ac­quaintance vvith them: or, if they vvoulde vse them, yet they cannot tell hovv to vn­derstand them. For, vvho is it that knovves vvhat Dant ment in this verse:

Sure, I beleeue no man ells but vve that are Florentines can vnderstand it. Notvvith­standing, for any thing that I haue saide, if there be any fault in this text of Dant: it is not in the vvordes. But, if he haue faulted, it is rather in this: that (as a man somevvhat vvilfull) he vvould take vppon him, a matter harde to be vttered in vvordes, and perad­uenture vnpleasaunt to heare: then that he hath exprest it ill.

[Page 79] It is not then for a man to vse any talke, Talke in a forreigne Language. with him that vnderstandeth not that lan­guage you talke vnto him. Nor yet, by­cause a Douche man vnderstandes not the Italian tounge, must wee (for that cause) breake of our talke, to holde talke with him, to make our selues counterfets, as Maister Brufaldo did, and as some other be woont, that fondly and coldly, without any grace, thrust them selues in to Chat in their lan­guage with whome they talke, what so e­uer it be, and chop it out euery worde pre­posteroufly. And many times it chaunceth, the Spaniard talkes Italian with the Italian, and the Italian babbles againe in a braue­uery and gallantnes, the Spanishe toung with the Spaniard. And yet, it is an easier thing to know, y ^t they both talke like stran­gers: then to forbeare to laugh at the folish follies that scape them both in speache. Let vs not therfore vse our forreigne language, but vvhen it is needefull for vs to be vnderstoode, for some necessitie or other, that appertaineth vn to vs: And in common vse, vse our owne tounge, thoughe not altogether so good: rather then a forreigne language, better then our owne that is naturall vnto vs. For a Lumbarde shall speake his owne [Page 80] tounge more aptly (which is, notwithstan­ding, but base and barbarous) then he shall speake the Tuscane, or other language: euen bycause he hath not so redily, so proper and peculiar wordes, althoughe he studie much for them, as wee our selues that be Tus­canes.

But yet, if a man haue a respect to them with whome he talkes: and for that cause forbeare & leaue out those singular wordes, (which I haue spokē of) and in stede of thē vse the generall and common: his talke, by suche meanes, shall haue the lesse pleasure & delight.

Besides this, it becometh euerie honest Woordes that haue no honest mea­ning in them. gentleman, to eschewe those wordes that haue no honest meaning. And, The goodnes of wordes consisteth either in their sound, or pronouncing: or, in their sense and meaning. For a much as som wordes speake an ho­nest matter, and yet, perchaunce, there is a certaine vnhonest sense perceaued to stand in the pronouncinge of the worde it selfe: as Rinculare: which, notwithstanding, is Rinculare, is to drawe back warde, arse­longe. daily vsed of all men. But if a man or woman should speake after this sorte, & at that verie warning doe it in fight of any (I meane shuffle backwarde vpon their taile) then would the grosenesse of the worde [Page 81] plainlie appeare vnto them. But our Palate, throughe Custome and Use, happilie tasteth y ^e wine (as it were) and the bestnes of the sense of the worde, and not y ^e Dregges or Leeze.

Saith Dant. Fiche, is the thrusting of the thumbe betvveene the forefinger: vvhiche eyther for the vvorde or the remem­brance of somthinge therby signified, is reputed a­mongste the Italians as a vvorde of Shame.

But our women, would be much asha­med to speake so: yea to shūne this ambigu­ous woord, y ^u signifieth a worse matter, they rather say Le castagne. Albeit yet some of them at vnwares, many times, name that vnaduisedly, which if another man had spoken to trie them, would haue made them blushe to heare that remembred in way of blasphemie, which makes them women. And therefore, suche as be, or would be bet­ter mannered or taught, take good heede they doe eschewe, not only things vncleane Potta di me and vnhonest, but wordes also: and not so­muche those that be euill indeede, but those that may be, or doe but seeme to be vnho­nest, foule & filthie: as some men say these are of Dant.

Or els these.

And one of the Spirits said.

And you must knowe, that albeit two, or moe wordes, otherwhile chaunce to tell one selfe thinge, yet the one is more cleanly then the other. As for example, to say: She lay vvith him: and she satisfied his desire vvith her person. For this self same speach, if it were in other termes, would be to broad before & to filthie to heare it. And speaking of Endymion, you may more aptly say: Il Va­go della Luna. then you can say Il Drudo, al­thoughe both these wordes doe import and signifie A louer, and a Friend. And a much honester speache is it, if you talke of Aurora, to call, her. Tritons prety gerle and louer, then Concubine. And it better becomes a mās and womans mouth, to call Harlots, vvo­mē of the vvorlde (as Belcolore did, who was more ashamed to speake it then to doe it) then to vse their common name: Thais is a Harlot. And as Boccace declared y ^e power of whores and boyes. For, if he had ter­med the males, by their beastly occupation, as he termed the women: his talke would haue byn foule & shamefull. And withall, [Page 83] A man must not alone bevvare of vnhonest and filthie talke. but also of that vvhiche is base and Base vvords and Vile. vile, and especially vvhere a man talketh & dis­courseth of greate and highe matters. And for this Cause, perchaunce, woorthely some blame our Beattice, sayeing:

For, in my conceite, these base wordes that come out of the Tauernes, bee verie vn­comely for suche aworthy discourse. And when a man hathe like occasion to speake of y ^e Sunne, it shall not be good to call it The Candell or the Lampe of the world: bycause such woordes do put vs in minde of y ^e Oyle, & the stuffe of the kitchyn. Neyther should a man that is well aduised, say that Saincte Dominicke was Il Drudo della Theologia. Drudo, signi­fiethe a lasci­uious louer. Nor yet talke, that the glorious Sainctes haue spoken suche base and vile woordes: As for Example to say. Dant. 22. Infer.

For they sauour of y ^e dregges, & y ^e filth of y ^e cōmō people, as euery man may easily see.

[Page 84] Againe, in your long & large discourses, you must haue y ^t like cōsideratiōs & cares, & some more: y ^t which you may more cōmodi­ously learne of your Maisters y ^t teache you y ^t arte, that is commonly called Rhetorike.

And amongest other things, You must accustome your selfe, to vse suche gentle and courtious speache to men, and so sweete, that it Gentle wordes in Communi­cation. may haue no maner of bitter taste. And you shall rather say, I cannot tell how to say it: Thē say: you ar deceiued: Or, it is not true: Or, you know it not. For, it is a courteous and friendly parte to excuse a mans faulte, euen in that very thing, wherein you know how to blame him. And withall, it doth well, to make the proper and peculiar fault of your friend, indifferent and common to you both: and first, to take one piece to your selfe, and then after, to blame and reproue him for it. VVee were deceiued and failed muche: we forgot our selues yesterday to doe so. Although suche negligence & errour, or what soeuer it be: be altogether his fault and not yours. And Restagnone forgat him selfe muche, when he saide to his com­panions: If your wordes doe not lie. For, A man should not bring another mannes faithe and honestie in question and doubte. But, if a man promise you any thing, and doe not performe it: it shall not doe well, for you to [Page 85] say vnto him: You haue lost your credite with mee: without some necessarie cause doe driue you to say so, as to saue your owne credite and honestie. But, you shall ra­ther say: You could not do it: Or, you did not remember to doe it: Thē, you haue cleane for­gotten mee. For, these kinde of speaches, haue some prickles & stinges of Complaint, Anger and Choler. So that, suche as vse them selues to speake suche churlishe and fuinishe woordes, are taken for sharpe and sower fellowes: & men doe asmuche shunne their acquaintāce: as to thrust them selues vppon thornes and thistles.

And bycause I knowe som, of this naugh­tie cōditiō & qualitie: I meane some y ^t be so hastie and greedy to speake, y ^t they take not the sense with them, but ouer passe it and runne before it, as the grehound, that doth not pinche by ouershooting his game: therfore I will not spare to tell you that, which may be thought needeles to touche, as a thing to well knowen: and that is, that You shall neuer speake, before you haue first considered & laide the plot in your minde what it is you haue to saie. For in so doing, your talke shalbe well deliuered and not borne before Parto & non Isconcratura. the time. I trust, straungers will easily beare with this worde: if at least they [Page 86] vouchsafe to read these trifles of mine. And if you doe not skorne my preceptes: it shall neuer chaunce you to say: vvelcome Maister Agostino, to such a one, whose name is Ag­nolo, or Bernardo. And you shal neuer need to say, Tell me your name: Nor say againe, I saide not well: Nor, Lorde vvhat doe I call him: Nor to hack and to stutter long toge­ther, to finde out a worde, Maister Arrigo: no Master Arabico: Tushe, what doe I call him I should say, Maister Agabito. These fonde & foolish behauiours & fashions, paine a man as much to heare thē, as to be drawne and haled with cordes.

The voyce would be neither hoarse nor shrill. And, vvhen you laugh and sporte in any Voyce and Tounge. sorte: you must not crye out and criche like the Pullye of a well: nor yet speake in your yavvning. I knowe well it is not in vs, to geue our selues a ready tongue or perfect voyce at our owne will and pleasure. Hee y ^t doth stutter, or is hoarse: let him not al­wayes bable and gabbe, and keepe a courte alone: let him rather a mend the defect of his tounge with silence, and hearinge: and withall (if hee can) with studie diminishe the fault of Nature. It is an yll noyse to heare a man rayse his voyce highe, lyke to a common Cryer. And yet I would not [Page 87] haue him speake so lowe and softly, that he that harkens, shall not heare him. And if he be not heard at y ^e first time he speaketh, he must speake, the next time, somewhat plainer: but yet, not yoape out aloude, that he make not men thinke he is woode and angry with them: for hee shall doe but well, to rehearse that againe he hath spo­ken, y ^t men may vnderstand what he said.

Four wordes would be disposed, euen as the common vse of speache doth require Manner of Speache. and not vnsorted, disordered and scattered cōfusedly: as many be woont to doe vppon a brauery, whose maner of talke is more like a Scriuener (me thinke) that readeth in his mother tounge, the Indēture he hath written before in latine: then a man that reasoneth or talketh in his Naturall lan­guage: as this for example.

Or if a man should preposterously place his wordes thus.

Which maner of speache, may be other­while allowed in versifiers: but it is vtter­ly forbidden in common talke.

[Page 88] And, it behoues a mā, not onely to shūne this versifying maner of speache, in his fa­miliar and common discourse, or talke: but likewise eschewe y ^e pompe, brauery, & affec­tation, that may be suffered and allowed to inriche an Oration, spoken in a publike place. Otherwise, mē that doe heare it, will but spyte it, and laughe him to scorne for it.

Albeit perchaunce, a Sermon may shewe a greater cunning and arte, then common talke. But, Euerie thing must haue his time and place. For, he that walkes by the way must not daunce, but goe. For, euery man, hath not the skill to daunce, and yet euery mā cā skill to goe. But, Dauncing is meete for feastes & weddings: it is not to vse in the stretes. You must then take good heede you speake not with a maiestie.

And suche is all Filocolo, and the other treatises of Maister Iohn Boccace, except his greater woorke, and litle more per­chaunce Corbaccio.

I would not for al this, that you should vse so base a speache, as y ^t scum, as it were, and the froth of the meanest and vilest sorte of people, Launderers & Hucksters: but suche [Page 89] as gentlemen should speake & talke, which I haue partly told you before, in what sorr it may be done: that is, if you talke of mat­ters that be neither vyle, vaine, fowle, nor lothesome. And if you haue skill to choose amongest the woords of your owne coūtrie speache, the purest and most proper, suche as haue the best sounde, and best sense, touching nor remembring, in no case, no matter that is foule, vile and base: & if you can place your woords in good order, and not shoofle them together at randon, nor yet, with ouer muche Curious studie, file them (as it were) one your beades. More­ouer, if you do dispose such things as you haue to say with discretion. And take good hede that you couple not vnfit & vnlikely matters together: as for Example.

And if you speake not so slowe, as if you were vnlustie: nor so hasty, as if you wer hū grie: but as a wise and a temperate man should doe. Likewise, if you pronounce youre woords and your sillables with a certaie grace & sweetnes: not as a Schole­maister y ^e teatheth yoūg Childrē to read & to [Page 90] spell. Neyther must you mumble them nor supp them vp, as if they were glued & pas­ted together one to another. If you remember these and such other rules and precepts: youre talke will be liked, and heard with pleasure enoughe: and you shall well maintaine the state and counte­naunce, that well besemeth a gentleman well taught and honest.

Besids these, there be some, that neuer Talkatiue Fellovves. hould their tounge. And as the shippe that sayles, doth not presently stand, still, by taking downe the sayles: So doe they runne forward, as caried away with a certaine brayde: and loosing the matter of their talke, yet leaue not to babble, but ei­ther repeate that againe that is said, or els speake still they cannot tell what.

And there be other so full of babble, that they will not suffer another to speake. And as wee doe see otherwhile, vppon the flow­ers in the countrie where they thresh corne, one Pullet pull the corne out of the others beake: so doe they catche the tale out of his mouth y ^t beganne it, and tell it themselues. And sure, suche maner of people, induce men to quarell and fight with them for it. For, if you doe marke it wel: Nothing moues [Page 91] a māsooner to anger: then when he is soudaine­ly cut short of his will and his pleasure, be it of neuer so little and small importaunce. As whē you gape wide with yawning: another should thrust his hand in your mouth: or when you doe lift your arme redy to hurle a stone: it is soudainly stayde by one that stands behinde you. Euen then, as these doings, and many moe like vnto these, which tend to hinder the will and desire of another (albeit but in way of sporte & of play) are vnseemely, and would be es­chewed: So in talke and communication with men, wee should rather pull one, and further their desiers, by what meanes we can, then stop them and hinder them in it.

And therefore, If any man be in a redines to tell his tale: it is no good maner to interrupte him: nor to say that you doe knowe it vvell. Or, if hee besprinckle his tale here and there, with some prety lye: you must not reproue him for it, neither in wordes nor in gesture, as shaking your hed, or scow­ling vppon him, as many be wont: gloriously vaunting them selues, that they can, by no meanes, abide the taste of a Lye. But, this is not the [Page 92] reason of this, it is the sharpenes and sow­ernes of their owne rusticall & eager Na­tures, which makes them so venemous & bitter in all companies they come: that no man cares for their acquaintance.

Likewise, It is an illfauoured condition to stop another mās tale in his mouth: and it spites him asmuche, as if a mā should take him by the sleeue & hould him backe, euen whē he is redie to runne his course. And when another man is in a tale, it is no good maner for you, by telling the company some newes, & draw­ing their mindes to other matters, to make them forsake him cleane, and leaue him a­lone. For, it is an vncourtious parte for you to leade and carry away the cōpany: which the other (not you) hath brought together.

And, whē a mā tells his tale, you must geue good eare vnto him: that you may not say otherwhile, O what? Or, how? which is many a mans fashion to doe. And this is asmuch trouble and paine to him that spea­keth: as to shoofle against y ^e stones, to him that goeth. All these fashions, and ge­nerally, that which may stoppe, and that which may trauerse the course of another mans talke, must be shunned.

And, if a man tell his tale slowe like a drawe latche: you must not yet hasten him [Page 93] forwarde, nor lende him woordes, although you be quicker in speache then hee. For, many doe take that ill, and specially suche, as persuade themselues they haue a Ioly grace in telling a tale. For, they doe ima­gine you thīke not so well of thē, as they thē selues doe: And that you would geue them instructions in their owne Art: as Mer­chaunts that liue in greate wealth & plen­tie, would count it a greate reproche vnto them, that a man should proffer them mo­ney, as if they liued in lacke, & were poore and stoode in neede of releéfe. And you must vnderstād, that, Euery man in his owne conceite, thinkes he can tell his tale well: al­thoughe for modestie sake he deny it. And I cannot gesse how it cometh to passe, that the veriest foole doth babble most: which ouer muche prattle, I would not haue a gentle­man to vse, and specially, if his skill be but scant in the matter in talke: Not onely, bycause it is a hard matter: but, He must rū in many faults that talkes muche: but also, by­cause a man weenes, that, He that talkes all the talke to him selfe, woulde (after a sorte) pre­ferre him self aboue them all that heare him, as a Mayster would be aboue his scholers. And therfore, It is no good maner for a man to take vppō him a greater state, thē doth become him. [Page 94] And in this fault, not men alone, but many countryes fall into, so cackling and prat­ling: that, woe be their eares that geue thē hearing.

But, as ouer muche babble makes a mā weary: so doth ouer muche Silence procure Silence as greate disliking. For, To vse silence in place vvhere other men talke to and fro: is in maner, asmuche a fault, as not to pay your share and scot as other men doe. And as speache is a meane to shewe men your minde, to whome you speake: so, doth Silence againe make mē wene, you seke to be vnknowne. So y ^t, as those people which vse to drinke muche at feastes, and make them selues drunke, are wont to thrust thē out of their companie, that will not take their drinke as they doe: So be these kinde of mute & still fellowes, coldly welcome to pleasaūt and mery companie, that meete to passe the time away in pleasure and talke. So that, It is good maner for a man to speake, and like­vvise to hold his peace, as it comes to his turne, and occasion requires.

As an old Chronicle maketh mention. There was in the parts: of Morea, a very good workmā in y ^e stone: Who for y ^e sīgular good skill he had in his Art, was called (as Maestro Chiarissimo. I take it) Maestro Chiarissimo. This man [Page 95] (now well strooken in yeares) made a cer­taine treatise, & therin gathered together al y ^e precepts & rules of his arte: as the man y ^t had very good skill to doe it: shewing in what sorte the proportions and lineaments of the body, should be duely measured, as well euery one a parte by it selfe, as one res­pecting another: y ^t they might iustly & due­ly be answerable y ^e one to the other: which treatise of his, he named Regolo. Meaning Regolo. to shewe, that according to that, all the I­mages and pictures, that from thensforth any workemā should make, should be squa­red & lined forth: as y ^t beames, and y ^e stones, and the walles, are measured by y ^e rules & precepts of that booke. But, for that it is a muche easier matter to speake it, then to worke it, or doe it: and besides that, The greatest number of men, especially of vs that be prophane and not learned, haue our senses much quicker then our vnderstanding, and conse­quently, better conceiue particular things and Examples, then the generall propositions and Syllogismes (which I might terme in plai­ner speache, Reasons) for this cause this worthy man I speake of, hauing regard to the Nature of workemen: whose capacities are vnfit and vnable to weeld the weighte of generall Precepts and [Page 96] rules: and to declare more plainely, with all his cunning and skill: hauing found out for his purpose, a fine marble stone, with muche labour and paine, he fashioned and shaped an Image of it, as perfectly propor­tioned in euery parte and member: as the precepts and rules of his treatise had be­fore deuised. And as he named the booke, so did he name that Image, and called it by name of Regolo.

Now, (and it pleased god) I would I could but one parte of those twoe points, which that noble Ingrauer & worckeman I speake of, had perfect skill and knowledge to doe: I meane, that I could gather toge­ther in this treatise, after a sorte, the due measures of this Art I take vppon me to treate of. For, to perfourme the other, to make the second Regolo: I meane, to vse and obserue in my maners, the measures I speake of, framig and forming, as it were, A Visible Example, and a materiall Image of them: it were now, to muche for me to doe. For asmuch as, It is not inough to haue knowledge and Art, in matters concerning maners & fashions of men: But it is needefull withall, to worke them to a perfect effect, to practise and vse them muche: whiche cannot be had vppon the soudaine, nor learned by & by: but it is number [Page 97] of yeares that must winne it: & y ^e best parte of mine be runne fourth alredy, you see.

But for all this, you must not make y ^e lesse reconing of these precepts. For, A man may well teache another the way: although he haue gone out of the way himself. And peraduenture, they that haue lost their wayes, do better remember the hard wayes to fynd: then they that neuer went a misse. And, if in mine infancie, when minds be tender and pliable, like a young twigge, they that had y ^e charge & gouernemēt of me, had had the skill to smoothe my manners, (perhaps of Nature somwhat hard and rude) and would haue polished and wrought them fine: peraduēture I should haue beene such A one, as I trauaile to make thee Nowe, whome I loue no lesse then if thou were my sonne. For albeit, the power of Nature be greate. yet is she many tymes Maistered and Nature must be maystered by Reason. corrected by custome: But, we must in tyme begin to encounter and beate her downe, before she get to muche strēgth and hardi­nes. But most men will not doe so: but rather yealding to their appetite without any striuing, following it where so euer it leades thē, thinke they must submitte thē ­selues to Nature: As though Reason were not a naturall thing in man. But, Reason [Page 98] hath (as a Lady and Mistris) povver to chaunge Reason dothe chaunge olde Customes & helpeth Na­ture. olde customes, and to helpe & hold vp Nature, when she doth at any time decay and fall. But very seldome we harken vnto her. And y ^t for y ^e moste parte, maketh vs like vnto thē whome god hath not endued w ^t Reason: I meane brute beastes, in whome notwith­standing, something yet worketh: not their owne Reasons (for they haue none of them selues) but ours: as in horses you see it: which by nature would be euer wilde, but y ^t their ryder makes them tame, and withal, after a sorte, redy & very well paced. For many of them would haue a hard trot, but that the rider makes them haue an easier pace. And some he doth teache to stand still, to galopp, to treade the ringe, and do the carreere: And they learne to doe it all well you see. Then, if the horse, the dog, y ^e hauke, & many other beastes besides, more wylde then these, be guided and ruled by Reason, and learne that which their owne Nature cannot attaine, but rather repug­neth: and become after a sorte cunning and skilfull, so farre as their kinde doth beare it, not by Nature, but by custome & vse: how muche then may we thinke wee should ex­cell them, by the precepts and rules of our Reason, if wee tooke any heede vnto it. [Page 99] But, The Sēses desire & couet presēt delightes, what soeuer they be: and can abide no paines, but puts them of. And by this meanes, they also shake of Reason, and thinke her vnpleasant, forasmuche as she sets before them, not plea­sure, many times, hurtfull: but goodnes and vertue, euer paynfull, sower and vnsauoury in taste. For, while we liue according to the Sense, wee are like to the selly sickmā, to whom al cates neuer so deinty & sweete, seeme vntoothsome: and he chideth still with his Cater and Cooke, in whome there is no fault at all for it. For, it is the Nature of his disease, and the Extremitie of his sicknes, and not the fault of his meate, that he doth not sauourly taste what he eates. So Reason, which of it selfe is svveete and sauourie: seemes bitter in taste vnto vs, though it haue no ill taste in dede. And therfore as nice & deitie felowes, we refuse to make any taste of her: & couer our grosnes, w ^t saying that Nature hath no spurres nor raines y ^t can pricke her forth, or hold her backe. Where sure, if an Oxe or an Asse, or a Hogge, could speake: I beleeue, they could not lightly tell a more fowle & shamefull tale thē this. VVe should be childrē still all the time of our riper yeares, & in our extreame age: and vvaxe as very fooles vvith gray hoary heads, as vvhen vve vvere very babes: if it vvere not that reasō, vvhich increaseth in vs vvith our yeares, subdueth affections in vs, [Page 100] and growen to perfection, transformeth vs from beastes in to men. So that it is well seene, shee ruleth our senses and bridleth our wittes. And it is our owne Imperfection and not her faulte, if we doe swarue frō vertue, good­nes, and good order in life.

It is not then true, that there is not a bridell and Master for Nature. Nay, she is guided and ruled by twaine: Custome I Custome & Reason, tvvoe brydles of Nature. meane, and Reason. But, as I haue tould you a litle before: Reason without Custome and vse, cannot make an vnciuile bodie, well taught and courtious: Which custome and vse, is as it were, bred and borne of tyme. And therefore they shall doe well, to harkē betime vnto her, not only for that, by this meanes, a man shall haue more time and leasure to learne to be such as she teacheth, and to become as it were a houshould ser­uaunt of hers, and one of her traine: but al­so bycause The tender age, as pure and cleane, doth easily receaue all Impressiōs, and reteineth more liuely, the colours vvherevvith she is dy­ed: then vvhen a man comes to ryper yeares: And also, bycause The things vvherein vvee haue byn nourished and trained frō our youth, doe ordinarily please vs, aboue all other things. And for this cause, it is said that Diodato, a man that had a singular good gift & grace Piodato. [Page 101] of vtterance, would euermore bee the first that came fourth vppon the stage to shewe his Comedie: allthoughe they were all but coūterfets vnto him, whosoeuer they were that should haue spoken before him. But he would not his voice should occupie o­ther mens eares, after they heard another man speake. Although, in respect of his doings, it were a greate deale Inferiour to his. Seing then, I cannot agree my workes and my wordes together, for those causes I haue shewed you before, as Maes­tro Chiarissimo did: whoe had as good a skil to doe it, as he had knowledge to teache it: let it suffice that I haue tould in some part what must be done, bycause I am not by a­ny meanes able to doe it in dede. He that li­ueth in darkenes, may very vvell Iudge vvhat comfort it is to enioy the benefit of light. And by an ouer long silence, vve knovve vvhat plea­sure it is to speake: so when you beholde my grose and rude maners: you shall better Iudge, what goodnes and vertue there is in courtions behauiours and fashions.

To come againe then to this treatise, which growes now to some end: wee say that Those be good maners and fashiōs, which bring a delight, or at least, offend not their sen­ses, their mynds, and conceits, vvith vvhom vve [Page 102] liue. And of these, wee haue hitherto spoken inoughe.

But you must vnderstand with all this, that, Men be very desirous of bevvtifull things, vvell proportioned and comely. And of coun­terfet things fovvle and ill shapen, they be as squemish againe, on the other side. And this is a speciall priuilege geuen to vs: that o­ther creatures haue no capacitie, to skill what bewtie or measure meaneth. And therefore, as things not common w ^t beastes but proper to our selues: we must embrace them for them selues, and holde them dere: & yet those, much more, y ^t drawe nerest to y ^e knowledge of man: as which are most apt and inclined to vnderstand the perfection which Nature hath lefte in men.

And albeit, it be a hard matter, to shewe precisely, Bevvtie, what maner of thing it is: Bevvtie. yet y ^t you may haue sōe marke, to know her by: you must vnderstand, y ^t VVhere iointly & seuerally, euery parte & the whole hath his due proportion and measure, there is Bevvtie. And that thing may iustly be called fayer, in vvhich the saide proportion and measure is found. And by that I did once learne of a wise & a lear­ned man: Bevvtie he said, would consist but of one, at the moste. And Deformitie con­trarywise, measured her selfe, by Many. As Deformitie. you may see by the faces of fayer & goodly [Page 103] women. For, the euen lineaments and due proportions of euery of them: seeme to haue byn created & framed by the iudge­ment and sight of one face alone. Which cannot be thought in them that be foule & deformed. For, when you beholde a womā, that hath, peraduenture, bigge and bowle eyes, a little nose, blubbe cheekes, a fsat mouth, an out chinne, & a browne skinne: you thinke straite that that face is not one womans alone: but is moulded of many faces, and made of many peeces. And yet, you shall finde amongest them, some such, whose partes cōsidered alone by thē selues, be very perfect to see to: but all set together, be foule and ill fauoured: not for any other cause, but that they be y ^e lineaments of ma­ny fayer women, and not of one: So that a mā would weene, shee had borrowed her partes, of this and that woman. And it may be, that Painter that had all the fayer maides of Calabria, naked before him: had none other intent therein, then to iudge & discerne in many, y ^e partes y ^t they haue, as it were, borrowed heere one, & there another, of one, alone: to whome restoring frō eache y ^t was her right: imagining y ^t Venus bewty should be such, and so proportioned: he set him selfe to paint her.

And, you must not thik, y ^t this is to be seene [Page 104] the faces, the partes, and the bodies of wo­men alone: but it happeneth more or lesse, in speache, in gestures & doings. For, if you should chaunce to see a Noble woman gor­gius and gallant, washing of cloutes in a Riuer by y ^e highe waye side: Althoughe if this were not, you might hapely passe away by her, w ^t little heede to her persō or state: yet this would not brook you nor like you, y ^t her seruile doings doe shewe her more thē one. For her state should answer her honourable condition and calling. But her woorke is suche, as is meete for women of base and seruile life: & although you shall feele, ney­ther yll sauour nor sent come from her, nor heare any noyse that should offend you, nor any thing els to trouble your minde: yet the foule and filthy maner of doing it, and the vnseemely act it selfe: will make you muche to loathe it. You must then beware of these fowle and vncomely behauiours, asmuche, nay, more then of those other, I haue spoken all this while. For, it is a har­der matter a greate deale, to knowe whē a man faulteth in these, then when he faul­teth in them. Bycause, It is easie much, vve see, to feele then to vnderstande. But yet, it may chaunce otherwhile, that euen that which offendeth the senses, may also offend [Page 105] the minde: thoughe not altogether af­ter one sorte, as I haue told you be­fore: Apparelling according to the Time. shewing you that A man must ap­parell him selfe, according to the fashions that other men vse: that it may not be thought he doth reproue and correct their doings: The which thing offendeth most men that seeke to be commended: And the wisest mē that be, mislike it too. For, the garments of the olde world, haue lost their date, for men of this age and this season to weare. And it is suche an ill shapen sight, to see a man clad with other mens cloathes: that a man would weene there would be a fray betwene the doublet & y ^e hose: their cloathes doe sit, vppon them so vnto wardly.

So that, many of those matters I haue spoken of allredy, or peraduēture all, might be aptly rehersed here again: forasmuch as this measure I speake of here, is not obser­ued in these thīgs: nor the time, nor y ^e place, nor the worke, nor the worker, accorded & fitted together, so well as it should be. For mens minds and fansies doe like it, & take a pleasure and delight in those things. But I thought it good to apply & speake these matters, rather vnder y ^e badge, as it were, of the Senses and desires: then properly assigne them to the minde: that a man may [Page 106] the more easily perceiue them: bycause It is a naturall thinge, for euerie man to feele and de­sire: but euery man cannot so generally vnderstand, and especially that, whiche we call bewtie, gallantnes or entertaine­ment.

It is not inoughe for a man, to doe things that be good: but hee must also haue a care, hee doe them with a good grace. And a good grace is nothing els, but suche a maner of light (as I may A Grace, vvhat it is. call it) as shineth in the aptnes of things set in good order and wel disposed, one with another: and perfectly knit and vnited together. VVith­out which proportion and measure, euen that which is good is not faire: & the fairenes it self, is not plesaunt. And as meates, though they be good & sauourie will giue men no minde to eate thē, if they haue no pleasaunt relish and taste: So fares it with the maners of men other while (althoughe in them selues in no respect they be ill, but foolishe a lit­tle, and fond) if a man doe not season them with a certaine sweetenes, which you call (as I take it) Grace, and Comlines.

So that, euery vice of it selfe, without any further matter to helpe it (it cannot be chosen) must needes offend a man. For, Vices be things so foule and filthie: that honest and modest mindes, will greeue to see [Page 107] their shamefull effects. And therefore, it shall behoue them that seeke to be well thought of, with their familiar acquaintāce, aboue all things els to eschewe vices, and especially those, that be foulest and worst: as Leachery, Couetous­nes, Crueltie, and other. Of which, some be beastly, as Drunkennes, and Gluttonie: some vncleane, as Leacherie: other some horrible, as Murther, and such other: all which for them selues, and for the very naughtines, that is pro­perly in them al, all men eschewe more, or lesse: But, as earst I said, generally al, as thīgs of greate disorder, make a man misliked muche of all men.

But, bycause I haue not taken vppon me to shew vnto you, mēs sinnes, but their Errors: it shalbe no parte of my charge at this time to entreate of y ^e Nature of vices & vertues: but onely of the seemely & vnseemely fashions and maners wee vse one with another. One of the which vnseemely Counte Ri­charde. fashions was, that Coūt Richard did vse: of which I tould you before. Which, as vn­seemely and vnfitting with those other his good and faire maners hee had besides: that same worthie Bishop (as a skilfull and cunning Mayster in musicke will ea­easily [Page 108] here a note out of Tune) had quickly founde out.

It shalbe then, necessarie for gentlemen and men of good behauiour, to haue a regard to this measure I speake of: in going, in standing, in sitting, in gesture, in porte, in apparell, in talke, in silence, in rest and in action. For, a man must not apparell him selfe like a woman: that the Attire may not be of one sorte, and the person of another: as I doe see it in some that weare their heads & their beards curled with bodkins, and haue their face, Beardes and Heades cur­led with bodkins. and their necks, & their hands, so starchte and painted, that it were to muche for a girle, nay harlot, that makes a merchā ­dize of it, and sets her selfe to the sale.

Hou must smell, neither of sweete nor of sower: for a gentleman would not sauour Sweete smeles nastily like a begger: nor yet should a man carry a sauour and sent about him, like a harlot or whoore. I doe not by this for­bid, but you may very well vse some sweete smelles of sweete waters.

Your apparell must be shaped according Apparell ac­cording to the fashion & calling. to the fashion of the time, and your calling, for the causes I haue shewed you before. For, VVe must not take vppon vs to alter cus­tomes at our will. For time doth beget them, and time doth also weare them out.

[Page 109] Euery mā may applie those fashiōs, that be in common vse, y ^e moste to his owne ad­uantage, that he can. For, if perchaunce your legges be very long, and men vse but short garments: you may vse a meane, not to long, nor to short. And if your legges be to small, to greate, or crooked: make not your hosen of to light and garishe a co­lour, that it may not call men to looke and to gawre vppō your deformitie. Thou must weare no garment that shall be to light, or ouermuche daubde with garding: that mē may not say, thou hast Ganymedes hosen, or wearest Cupides doublet. But, whatsoe­uer it be thou wearest, let it be fit and well made for thy bodie: least thou seme to braue it, in another mans cloathes.

But with all, thou must in any case res­pect thy condition or estate. For, A man of the Clergie, must not be attired like a Souldier: nor a Souldier goe like a Player. When Cas­truccio was in Rome with Lodouico Bauero at a greate Pompe, and triumphe: who was both Duke of Lucca and Pistoia, and Count of Palazzo, and Senatour of Rome: this Castruccio, being Lorde greate Mays­ter of the saide Lodouico Bauero his house­houlde: for his brauery, made him a coate of crimsin, vppon the brest wherof, there [Page 110] was this deuise, in letters of Golde

And vppon the backe behinde.

I beleeue, you thinke this garment, would haue become Castruccio his Trum­peter better, then it could become him.

And although Kings be free frō checke, and may doe what they list: Yet, I could neuer commend King Manfrede, Whoe euer more vsed, to suite him selfe in greene. Wee must then haue a care, that our appa­rell be not onely wel made for the bodie: but that it be meete for our calling. And with­all, it be suche, as the countrie doth vse, Apparel acor­ding to the Countrey where wee liue. For, As in diuers places be diuers measures, and yet bying and selling eue­ry vvhere vsed. So in sundry landes be sundrie customes, and yet euery vvhere a man may be­haue him, and apparell him selfe, soberly and comely.

These same feathers, which the Neapoli­tanes and Spaniardes be wont to weare, and braueries and Embroderies: haue but ill place amongest graue gowned men, & the­attires that Citizens doe weare. But their Armour and weapons become suche place [Page 111] a greate deale worse. So that, looke what hapely might be allowed in Verona, would not, perchaunce, be suffered in Venice. For as muche as these gallants, all begarded, and huffing in fethers, & warlike fellowes, would not doe well, in this Noble Citie so peacefull & Ciuil. Suche kinde of peo­ple be rather, in maner, like nettles and burres, amongest good and sweete garden flowers. And therefore, they come out of season to mē that medle with grauer mat­ters then they doe.

I would not haue a gentleman to runne Running and going in the streat and other such gestures. in the streate, nor go to fast: for that is for lackies, and not for gentlemen to doe. Be­sides that, it makes a man weary, sweate, and puffe: which be very vnsightly things for suche men to doe. I would not yet haue a man go so softe and de­murely, as a maide or a wife. And when a man walkes, it is no good sight to see a man shake his bodie to muche, nor to hold his hands bare and emptie: nor yet cast & fling his armes vp & downe, in such sort as a man would weene, hee were soweing of Corne in the field: nor Stare in a mans face, as if he had spied a mares nest.

‘Ther be sōe again, in their gate pul vp their fete as high as a horse y ^t hath y ^e spauē: y ^t a mā would thik they did pluck their fete forth of [Page 112] bushell. Other againe stampe their feete so harde on the ground: that they make all­moste asmuche noyse as a carte. Another goes as if he were splay footed. And suche a one quiuers with his legges, as he stāds. Some other againe, at euery foote, stoope to stroke vp their hose as they goe. And sōe set their handes to their sides, and iet vp & downe like a Pecocke: which fashions doe muche offend men: not as well, but as ill beseeming a man to vse them.’ For, if your horse, perchaunce, doe champe and play on the bit, and gape or lill out his tounge, al­beit this geue little proofe of his goodnes: yet it commends him well to the sale: and you shoulde finde a misse of it, if it were o­therwise: not bycause y ^e horse should be therfore the worse: but bycause he should shew the lesse courage and pleasure. Now, if it stand so, that Comelines and Grace, be so much made of in beasts, and also in things without life or sense, as experience doth shewe, that, Two things of equall goodnes & comodities, beare not for all that, a like price, if a man doe beholde a finer proportion & bewtie, more in the one then he sees in the other: How muche then more, should it be estemed and commended in men, capa­ble of Reason.

[Page 113] ‘It is a rude fashion for a man to clawe Gestures and Fashions, at the Table. or scratche him selfe, when he sitteth at the table. And a man should at such time haue a very greate care y ^t he spit not at all. But Spytting. if neede inforce him, then let him doe it, af­ter an honest sorte.’ I haue heard tell, many times, of suche countries that be so sober: that they doe neuer spitt. And what should then let vs, but we may well forbeare it for suche a little while. We must also beware Greedie Eating. we doe not eate so greedily, that wee get the hicket, or belche withall: as some that feede so fast, that they noy the cōpany with it: they blowe and puffe so loude. Like­wise, you must not rubbe your teeth with Scovvring of the teethe your napkyn, & much lesse with your fin­gers. For these be trickes for a slouen. Nei­ther VVashing the mouthe. must you openly rynce your mouth w ^t the wine, and then spit it fourthe. Neither is it gentleman like, to carry a sticke in your Carrying a Sticke, in the Mouthe. mouth from the table when you rise, like y ^e birde that builds her a nest: or put it in your eare, for that is a Barbars tricke.

And to weare a toothpicke, about your To vveare a Toothepicke about your Necke. necke: of all fashions that is y ^e worst. For, besides that it is ‘a bauld Iewell for a gen­tleman to pull forth of his bosome, and put­teth mē in mind of those Toothdrawers, that sit one their benche in the stretes: it makes [Page 114] men also to thinke, that the man loues his belly full well, and is prouided for it. And I see no reason, why they should not aswell carry a spoone, about their neckes, as a toothepicke.’

It is a rude fashion besides, to leane ouer the table, or to fill your mouth so ful of Chearing at the table. meate, that your cheekes be blowne vp w ^t ­all: neyther must you by any maner of mea­nes, giue another man to know what plea­sure you take, in the meate or the wine. For yt is for Tauerners and Bousers, to vse suche fashions. And to entertaine men y ^e sit at your table, with these wordes: You eate nothing this morning. There is nothing that likes you. Or, tast you of this or of that: I doe not allowe of these fashions, although they be commonly receiued and vsed of all men. For, albeit by these meanes, they shewe they make much of those they haue inuited vnto them: yet, many tymes, they make mē to leaue to eate wher they would. ‘For, it geues them to thinke, they haue their eyes, allwayes vppon them, and that makes them ashamed to feede.’

Againe, I doe not like it, that a man shall Carueing. take vppō him to be a caruer of any meate that stands before him: if he be not muche the better mā, that is the caruer: that he to whome he carues, may thinke he receiueth some credite & honour by it. For, Amongest men that be of like cōditiō and calling, it makes [Page 115] a hart burning: that he that playes the caruer, should take more vppō him then another. And otherwhile, y ^t which hee carueth, doth not like him to whom it is geuen. And more thē this, by this meanes he sheweth, that the feaste is not sufficiētly furnished, or at least not well disposed in order, when some haue muche, & other none at all. And y ^e Mayster of the house, may chaunce to take displesure at that, as if it were done to doe him shame. Neuerthelesse in these matters, a man must demeasne him self, as common vse and cus­tome will allowe, and not as Reason & due­tie would haue it. And I would wishe a mā rather to erre in these poits with many, thē to be singular in doing well. But whatsoe­uer good maner there be in this case, thou must not refuse it, whatsoeuer is carued vnto thee. For it may be thought thou doest disdaine it, or grunt at thy caruer.

Now, to drink all out euery mā: which is Drincking & Carrovvsing. a fashiō as litle in vse amōgst vs, as y ^e terme it selfe is barbarous & straūge: I meane, lck bring you, is sure a foule thing of it selfe, & in our countrie so coldly accepted yet: y ^t we must not go about to bring it in for a fashiō. If a man doe quaffe or carrouse vnto you, you may honestly say nay to pledge him, & geueing him thanke, confesse your weakenesse, that you are not able to beare it: or else, to [Page 116] doe him a pleasure, you may for curtesie taste it: and thē set downe the cup to them that will, and Drincking, muche vsed in Graecia: and by So­crates. charge your selfe no further. And although this, Ick bring you, as I haue heard many learned men say, hath beene an auncient custome in Greece: and that the Graecians doe muche commend a goodman of that time, Socrates, by name, for that hee sat out one Socrates. whole night long, drinking a vie with ano­ther good man, Aristophanes: and yet y ^e next Aristophanes. morning in the breake of the daye, without any rest vppon his drinking, made suche a cunning Geometricall Instrument, that there was no maner of faulte to be found in the same: And albeit they say besides this, that Euen as it makes a man bould and hardy, to thrust him selfe venterously otherwhile, in to daungerous perils of life: so likewise it brings a man in to good temper and fashion, to enure him selfe otherwhile, with the daūgers of things not euer chauncing: And bycause the drin­king of wine after this sorte, in a vie, in such excesse and waste, is a shrewde assault to trie the strength of him that quaffes so lus­tily: these Graecians, would haue vs to vse it for a certaine proofe of our strength and constancie: and to enure vs the better, to resist and master all maner of strong temp­tations.

[Page 117] All this notwithstanding, I am of a cō ­trary mind: and I doe thinke all their rea­sons to fond, and to foolishe. But, we see that Learned men haue suche art and cunning to persuade, and such filed wordes to serue their turne: that wrong doth carry the cause away, and Reason cannot preuaile. And therefore let vs giue them no credite in this point. And what can I tell, if they haue a secret drift herein, to excuse and couer the fault of their countrey, that is corrupt with this vice. But it is daungerous, perchaunce, for a man to reproue them for it: least as­much happen to him, as chaunced to Socra­tes him selfe, for his ouer lauish controuling and checking of euery mans fault. For, he was so spited of all men for it: that ma­ny articles of heresies & other foule faultes were put vp against him, and he cōdemned to die in the end: allthough they were false. For in truthe, he was a very good man, & a Chatholike: respecting y ^e Religion of their false Idolatrie. But suer, in that he drunke so muche wine that same nyght: he deser­ued no praise in the worlde. For, the hog­gshead was able to holde & receiue a great deale more, then his companion and hee were able to take: if y ^t may get any praise. And though it did him no harme, that was [Page 118] more, the goodnes of his strong braine: thē the continencie of a sober man. And let the Chronicles talke what they list of this mat­ter, I giue God thankes, that amongest many the Plagues that haue creapt ouer the Alpes, to infect vs: hitherto this worst of all the rest, is not come ouer: that vve should take a pleasure and praise, to be drunke. Neither shall I euer be­leue, that a man can learne to be temperate, of suche a Mayster as vvine and drounkennes.

The Stewarde of a Noble mans house, Inuiting of straungers. may not be so bolde to inuite straungers, vppon his owne head, and set them downe at his Lorde & Maysters table. And there is none that is wise, will be intreated to it, at his request alone. But otherwhile, the seruaunts of the house, be so inalepert and saucie, that they will take vppō them, more then their Maister: of which things wee speake in this place, more by chaunce, then that the order we haue taken from the be­ginning, doth so require it.

A man must not vncase him selfe, in the presence of any assembly. ‘For it is a slo­uenly A recapitula­tion of sun­drie precepts. Vneasing. sight, in place where honest men be met together of good conditiō and calling. And it may chaunce he doth vncouer those parts of his bodie, which work him shame & rebuke to shewe thē: besides y ^t, it maketh [Page 119] other mē abashed to looke vpō thē. Againe, Washing of hands and combyng of heades. I wold haue no mā to combe his head, nor washe his hāds before mē. For such things would be done alone in your chamber, and not abrode: without it be, I say, to washe your hands when you sit downe to the ta­ble. For, there it shall doe well, to washe them in sight, although you haue no neede: that they with whome you feede, may as­sure them selues you haue done it. A man must not come forthe with his kercheif, or quaife one his head, nor yet stroke vp his hosen vppon his legges in company.’

‘Some men there be, that haue a pride or a vse to drawe their mouthes a little awry, Gestures of the face and Countenaūce and other partes. or twinckle vp their eye, & to blow vp their cheekes, and to puffe, and to make, with their countenaunce, sundrie such like foo­lishe and ilfauoured faces and gestures. I councell men to leaue them cleane.’ For, Pallas her selfe, the Goddesse, (as I haue hearde Pallas. sōevvise mē say) tooke once a greate pleasure to soūd the flute & the cornet: & therin she vvas verie cūning. It chaūst her, on day, soūding her Cornet for her plesure ouer a fontain, she spide her selfe in the vvater: and vvhē she beheld those strāge gestures she must nedes make vvith her mouth as she plaid: she vvas so much ashāed of it that she brake the cornet in peces & cast it away. [Page 120] truely she did but well, for it is no instrumēt for a vvoman to vse. ‘And it becomes men as ill, if they be not of y ^t base conditiō and calling, that they must make it a gaine, & an art to liue vppon it. And looke what I speake, concerning the vnseemely gestures of the countenance and face: concerneth likewise, all the partes and members of man. For it is an ill sight, to lill out y ^e tounge, to stroke your bearde much vp and downe (as ma­ny doe vse to doe) to rubbe your hands to­gether: to sighe, & to sorrowe: to tremble or strike your selfe, which is also a fashiō w ^t some: to reatche and stretche your selfe, & so retching, to cry out after a nice maner, Alas, Alas: like a coūtry cloune, y ^t should rouse him selfe in his couche.’

‘And he that makes a noyse w ^t his mouth Mopping or mowing. in a token of wonder, and other while, of cō tempte and disdaine: counterfeteth an il­fauoured grace.’ And Counterfet things, dif­fer not muche from truethes.

A man must leaue those foolishe maner of laughings, groase and vncomely. And Vnseemely Laughinges. ‘let men laughe vppon occasiō, and not vp­pon custome. But a man must beware he doe not laughe at his owne gestes, and his doings. For that makes men weene hee Laughing at [...]s owne G [...]stes. woulde faine praise him selfe. It is for o­other [Page 121] men to laughe that heare, and not for him that telles the tale.’

‘Now, you must not beare your selfe in hand, that bycause eache of these mat­ters considered a parte, is but a small fault, y ^e hole therefore together should be as light:’ but you must rather persuade your selfe y ^t Many a litle doth make a mickle, as I tould you from the beginning. And how muche lesse they be, so much the more neede a mā hath to looke well in to thē: bycause they be not easily perceiued a far of, but creepe in to vs by custom, before we be a ware. And, As light expences often vsed, in Continuance of time, doe couertly waste and consume a greate masse of wealth and riches: So doe these light faultes with the multitude and number of thē, in secret ouerthrow all honest and good ciuilitie and maner. So y ^t we must not make a light reconing of them.

Moreouer, it is a nedefull obseruation to bethinke your selfe, how you doe moue Mouinges and gestures of the bodie. your bodie, and specially in talke. For, it many times chaunceth, ‘a man is so ernest in his tale, that hee hath no minde of any thing els. One wagges his head. Another lookes bigg and scowles with his browes. That man pulls his mouth awry. And to­ther spittes in and vppon their faces with [Page 122] whome he talkes. And som suche there be that moue their hands in suche a sorte, as if they should chase y ^e flies as they go: which be very vnhansome & vnseemely maners to vse. And I haue heard it saide (for you knowe I haue byn familiarly acquainted with learned men in my time) that Pinda­rus that worthy man was wōt to saye: that Pindarus. VVhatsoeuer it were that had a good & sauou­rie taste: vvas seasoned by the hands of the Gra­ces. Now, what shall I speake of them y ^e cōe forthe of their studies with their penne in their care: and nibble their hankercheifs in their mouthe, or ly lolling w ^t their legge ouer the table, or spit one their fingers,’ and of a nūber of other blockishe gestures and fashiōs more then these, which cānot be all rehearsed well: nor shal not, I meane, put me to further paines to tel thē al if I could. For, there be manie perchaunce will say this is to muche, that I haue said allredie.