Galateo Espanol Anᵒ Dom 1640  
Tho: Cross fecit  

Reader stop here, First fix thine eye,  
On this quaint Spaniards gallantry:  
Then read his book, where thou shalt find  
he's far less brave in clothes, than mind.  
W. S.     

Galateo Espagnol, OR, THE SPANISH GALLANT, INSTRUCTING THEE in that which thou must do, and take heed of in thy usual carriage, to be well esteemed, and loved of the People.  
Written in Spanish by Lucas Gracian de Antisco servant to his Majesty. And done into English by W. S. of the Inner Temple Esquire. Full of variety, and delight, and very necessary to be perused, not only of the generous youth of this Kingdom, but also of all such as are exercised in their gentile Education.  
LONDON, Printed by E. G. for William Lee, at the Turks head in Fleetstreet, near to the Mitre Tavern. 1640.   

To the high, Noble, and most Illustrious: CHARLES, Prince of Wales, etc.  
SIr, let the strength of my desires to serve you, obtain your pardon, for this my trivial dedication. Yet if the title of this book be true, (which is not mine, but the first authors) it may prove worthy your inspection; if not, your perusal. For, the few rules therein contained, (if he may be credited) being well observed, will gain you the love of all men; and (consequently) command their obedience. Two things, which Princes, above others, have greatest need of, and wherein they become most happy, being made thereby, more absolute, then either by rigour of Laws, or force of Arms. It is (I confess) most true, that the great deeds, and heroic actions of Princes, are of highest esteem: yet are they not (therefore) to be altogether regardless, even of their ordinary behaviour, and usual carriage. For as by them, they become most powerful, and renowned: so by these, (if pleasing, and graceful) they grow more endeared, in the peopls affections. This treatise was first penned by a Courtier. Therefore if it be not well translated, no marvel, for how should a plodding Lawyer, make a neat construction, of a acquaint and polite Gallants meaning? rude as it is, I hope your highness will be pleased to accept of it, not casting your eye so much upon the course visage, of the present, as upon the fair intentions of the presenter. I confess there be no dainties in it, fit for your curious palate, yet (I beseech you) be pleased to taste of it, that others, for whom such course fare is far more proper, may thereby be brought, to relish it the better. All I will say in its commendation, is this: it is but brief, and is full of variety.  
Inner Temple the 28 of March, 1640. Sir, I am Your Highnesses in all duty and observance to be commanded, William Style.   

The Approbation.  
I Brother Augustine Arbole presentado, Reader of Divinity in the Monastery of our Father S. Augustine, of Barcelona, by the commandment of the Illustrious, and right reverend Lord, Micer Onofre Pablo celleres, Doctor of Law, and Cannon in the Church of this City, official, and Vicar general, for the right illustrious, and reverend Lord, Don juan dymas Loris, Bishop of Barcelona, have seen, and examined, the Galateo Espanol, & I find nothing in it, which contradicts, the faith, but is very profitable, and helpful to the good instruction, and education of youth.  
Dated in this monastery of S. Augustins, the 16 of May, 1594.  
Brother Augustine Arbole, Vt. Celeres, vic. Gen.   

The Approbation.  
I Peter Torrens, Doctr of Divinity, by the commission of the Illustrious, and right reverend Lord, Gabriel Marquet, official, and vicar general of Tarraconensis, have read this book, entitled the Galateo Espanoll, and I have found nothing in it, repugnant to the Catholic faith, and unto good manners. In witness whereof, I here subscribe myself,  
P. Torrens. Vt. Marquet. Vic. Generalis.   

To The right illustrious Lord, Micer Francisco Bonnet, Viceroy of Catalunna, and Counsellor of Barcelona.  
RIght reverend Sir, being of opinion, that the subject of this book, entitled the Galateo Espanol, is of great importance, and of much furtherance, to know how, and in what manner, men ought (ordinarily) to carry themselves, so that they be not only not ill thought of, and hated of others, But very acceptable, and pleasing to all: and considering on the other side, that for want of Copies thereof, the common wealth looseth this so great a good. I determined to print it at my own charge. Because that it is not now in my power, or ability, to do things of greater importance, I have (at least) done what I could in this little: and as much as my skill would reach unto. Afterward taking it into my consideration unto whom I were best to dedicate it, as the custom is to do, in the like impressions of books; my fancy then gave me, that I could not better dedicate it, to any body than your honour, who with greater zeal and thought, desireth, & procureth, the good of this same common wealth than any other, (as all do well see, & confess) as well in the charge of a Counsellor, as in that of a deputy, which your honour holds, at the present, and doth order, and govern there in with so great diligence. Therefore I trust, that your honour will be pleased, to receive it under your protection: and although the service be not such, as is fit for the person of your Honour, yet receive the heart and good will, with which it is offered, together with the desire I have, to serve your Honour, and the common wealth, (daily) more and more, in matters of greater consequence: for by this favour, and reward, I recover more heart, and vigour, to undertake, and finish a greater work. God keep your Lordship.  
Right illustrious Sir, Bernat Cusana kisses your Honour's hands.   

To The right illustrious Lord, Goncales Argeto de Molina, Provincial, and grand justiciar, for his Majesty, for the holy brotherhood, of Andalusia: Lord of the Towns, of Veroes, and Dagancuelo: and of the Castle of Gildolid. Alderman of Civil, etc.  
THe great and particular friendship, which Antonio Gratian, my brother, that is in Heaven, Counsellor of his Majesty, and Secretary to his royal person, did find with your Honour, obliges me, to acknowledge it, and to account of it, as all the good wits of this age do: beholding in your Honour, those testimonies, which you have afforded us in Arms, Government, and writings, of his much virtue, great courage and clear understanding. For having at thirteen years old, begun to serve his Majesty in the Wars, and not forgetting the exercise of learning, as we may perceive by the pledges, which Spain enjoys, and expects from your Honour's wisdom, in the governing of the holy brotherhood, of Andaluzia: which your Honour takes charge of: he hath showed his worth, so that in one year wherein he served, by condemning a great number to death and the Galleys, he hath secured this Province, which was so wasted with robbers; And I am confident the Divine, and humane Majesty, will grant your Honour, the reward which such works deserve, which my Galateo did rightly consider, in beseeching of your Honour, to accept of it, with the same affection, it is offered. Our Lord preserve the right renowned person, of your Honour, many days, with as much increase of wealth as is possible. From Madrid the 10. of january, 1582.  
Much renowned Sir, your servant Lucas Gratian Dantisco, Kisses your Honourable hands.   

To the Reader.  
HAving seen (by experience) in the passage of my life, all the rules of this book, I was of opinion, that I should do more good, if I did translate, out of the Italian Galateo, these things, which ought to be considered of, in the time of our youth, and to add other stories, and things, tending to this purpose, which I have seen, and heard: which might be instead of dainties, and sweet language, to make us passable, without an ill savour: the guilded Pills of a loving reprehension, which are contained in this book, though they be clothed in Tales, and jests, do not cease to profit any that stands in need of these admonitions: if his mouth be not so bitter, and his taste so distempered, that nothing can please him; but for others, that are not such, as are deciphered, in this Table, they may taste much of their own neatness, and good judgement, and if any tittle of this, concern them, they may be admonished thereby, and amend their fault, without any trouble of any, with the bare reading, and observation of this treatise. I know well, that some will say, that I have ill acquitted myself, by these instructions, though I make myself master of them: but I answer with the same Galateo, where he saith, that the rather, as one that takes warning from faltering in them, do I now set them forth, that others may not fall so unadvisedly as I have done, and so I am excused; Alleging for my principal discharge to admonish thereby, to a matter so proper for me, and at such a time as it cannot be taken for a reproof, but an admonition. For that when I come of discretion, I consider I shall receive content, in that I have been admonished; for although I have procured others to to live respected of all, yet might I have been more wary of myself. This I offer to the curious Reader, but my intention is to serve him, subjecting myself, to receive with love, what reproof he can give me.   

A Sonnet of Galves de Montalvo, on the Book.  

IN genius nature void of art  
Is like a flint where fire's concealed.  
Art is the steel that makes to dart,  
The sparks unto our eyes revealed.   

If any of these remain alone:  
They both prove beggarly and bare;  
But joined more rich than gem or stone,  
Each holds his proper friendly share;   

None is by nature learned or acquaint.  
And therefore void of good advice,  
Like Birds for want of air we faint:  
Lie still and cannot make our rise.   

The rudest Clown is comely made,  
By looking in this Crystal Glass;  
Which Galate and Gratian had,  
But now afford it thee to grace.    

A Sonnet of Doctor Francisco de Campusana.  

WHat Fish to th' bared hook will come  
And there loose liberty, and life?  
But baited, all throng to their doom:  
Easing the angler of his strife.   

If profit be with sweetness mixed,  
It must be well received of all:  
The pleasure that unto it's fixed,  
More than the gain doth men enthral.   

Good counsel, as Nizander saith,  
Doth seize on us, like the bare hook:  
But Lucas so it baited hath,  
He catcheth all men by the Book.    

A Sonnet of Lope de Vega to the Author.  

A Blessed news, and happy day  
Descends from heaven, in rich array:  
Reward I ask, my boon I crave,  
From you that hope this news to have.   

You that search and hope to find,  
Perfect courtship, neat address:  
Know, here comes wished to thy mind,  
Of winning carriage, chief princess:   

A glass to live by, Image rare,  
For common profit, and advise  
Is offered here unto thy care:  
Accept it freely, be not nice.   

The Courtier that this gem doth bring  
If thou desire his name to have,  
Is acquaint, neat, fresh and glittering,  
Gratian, and Galateo brave.    

A Sonnet to the Author.  

THe fair & comely carriage,  
Being daughter of the court of Kings:  
Is found in Galateo sage,  
Whose great renown, & valour rings.   

I suck from hence, the courtly milk,  
Of fair, sweet, gentle, lordly port:  
Hither may th' quaintest clothed in silk,  
For counsel come, and have't in short.   

here he presents in patterns rare,  
Instructions for thee to receive,  
That without pain, thou mayst take care,  
Thyself from errors to relieve.    

A Sonnet of Lycenciado Gaspar de Morales.  

A Happy lot, a blessed day,  
An age that's full of sweet content  
Is here discovered, and this ray,  
Shows thee a wit most excellent.   

The powerful heaven, with open hand,  
Powers valour, wisdom, courtship down,  
Gives grave discretion, brave command  
To him that nature framed a Clown.   

The Fool from hence become th' wise,  
The rustic swain can pass in Court,  
The learners to perfection rise,  
If in this Glass they'll but disport.    

THE AUTHOR directeth this work, to one of his Brothers: advising him what he ought to do, and what he ought to shun, in his ordinary carriage, to be well esteemed, and beloved of the People.  
seeing it is certain, that thou art to begin that Journey which (for the most part of my youth) I wasted, in this mortal life: for the love I bear thee, I determined with myself, to show thee the steps, in which I walked, and am experienced in: that when thou passest in them, thou mayest know how to leave that, which is ill, and to choose the good in the right way of thy salvation. And because thy tender age is not sufficient, nor apt to receive these rules and counsels, (reserving them for their time) I may perchance begin to treat of those, which some may think to be of little moment; And this is that, which I am of opinion must be performed: so that in conversing and dealing with the People thou mayest get a good habit and observe an affable, and acceptable demeanour, and carriage: which is no less than virtue itself, or very like her: as it is to be liberal, constant, or magnanimous, so is it to know the manner, and way how to govern thyself, in thy words and behaviour. And this pleasing behaviour, is of force to stir up and gain in thy praise, and esteem, the affection and good will of those with whom thou must converse, and live with all. And on the contrary: thou must avoid a rude, and careless carriage: which may procure thee hatred ill will and dispraise. And grant there be no punishment by Law, for them that are harsh, and clownish, in their conversation, (because the fault is not accounted heinous) yet it is enough, they are punished by making themselves ill esteemed, of all People: so that, (in truth) as men are afraid of fierce, wild Beasts, But make no account of some little Creatures, as Wasps and Flies, which they fear not, yet for the continual trouble and vexation, which they receive by them, they oftener complain of them, then of the other great ones. And so it happens, that most men complain as ill, of these troublesome men, by reason of their careless carriage, as upon those that are full of mischief, and naughtiness. And therefore none can doubt: but that he that frames himself to live, be it not in hermitages: or other solitary places; But in Cities and Courts amongst much People, to him I say it is a very profitable thing, to know how to be pleasing, and acceptable in his manners: and that he so temper his behaviour, and dealings, that they content not so much his own will, and liking as they be acceptable, and pleasing, to them with whom we converse withal. I know well, that in thy first age, thou must pass through the beaten path of infancy, passing it over in simplicity, and childish exercises, yet Seneca, that was so wise (as he was from his youth) passed not them so over, but they report of him, that two Roman Ambassadors, who held him wise went to Cordova of whence they say he was, to see him, and as they saw him playing at Chess with other youths of the same age, they wondered much how (being so wise) he could do so and not believing it was he, they went unto him, and asked him; what dost thou young man? Seneca lifted up his head and answered them acutely, I am here bestowing upon Time, that which is its own. They stood astonished, looking each upon the other and durst question him no further. Let every age therefore observe his own puntillios; According to this rule should I do ill, to draw thee from thy course: indeed I am of a contrary opinion from it: for it becomes not well a young man to be like an old man, and no less for an old man, to behave himself like a young man: but that in every age a man yield, and observe what is due to it. But let this relish well to thee, that from the time that thou beginnest to make use of thy reason, and to enter into the state of youth, thou observe, and read these things, that so thou be not loathsome, but mayst understand, to give content; And this must be done moderately, for he that takes pleasure to do things one upon the neck of another, to please him that observes his doings, may be accounted a Juggler, or perchance a flatterer, rather than a modest Gentleman: as he that takes no care, either to please, or displease him that hears him, may be rightly called a Clown. First thou must mark what belongs to thy office thou art in, before thou come to quaintness.  
Presuppose therefore that first before all other things men must take heed of the office, charge, and place wherein they are, & whence they have their livelihood, and to know well how to manage an estate, for in this a man is much esteemed. For without this, there is none that will account of these rules and instructions. Now to be well esteemed and loved of men I will begin in giving thee this advise from what befell a discreet Citizen, who treating of a marriage for one of his Daughters, who was accounted rich and fair, first of all they informed him that the man proposed to him was a gentleman of good parts, spiritefull, gracious, discreet, and very well esteemed of, and finally such a one as I intent to decipher in this treatise, who (after he had attentively listened unto all his good qualities) said unto them, my Lords all this is very good: and it will be as necessary for him to Dine and Sup after this also, but you tell me not in what office he lives and gains his living: what profit can be made of his person, or what need can we have of it only? and so they were at a stand, with all the virtues and good parts they had reckoned up. And so now at length under this supposition, in that which concerneth policy, I say that our manner of conversation, is more pleasing in taking heed how others relish us, then in our own proper conceit & esteem of ourselves.  
1. What things we must shun.  
And if we desire to find out what those things be, which do generally please most men; and what those which offend them, we may easily find in this treatise, what things we must avoid in our conversation, and what things we are to make choice of, we say now, that every act, which is troublesome, or offensive to any of the senses, namely that doth distaste us and offer itself in any ill manner to the fancy & things that are beastly, and loathsome, ought not only not be done of us in the presence of the People▪ but also not to be named, nor called to mind, by any motion or outward exercise.  
2. Ill properties which are accustomed to be done for want of taking heed.  
From whence we may take notice, that it is an ill quality of those, that whilst they are talking with you, do so gaze and fix their eyes on your face, as if they were to view some strange thing, and I have seen some who whilst they are talking with one, they cling so close unto him, that they breath in his face; and it is certain all do loath to be breathed upon, by others, though they find no ill savour come from them: what will it be then, if such a man that doth so have a stinking breath, or sputters as he speaks, as some do? and so doth sputter upon all that stand about him? I say, this is a sufficient cause, to make a man abhorred. And I have seen some so puff and blow so vehemently in relating a discourse, that they always driveled before they could speak any thing.  
3. In like manner it is ill for any to hide his hands under his Coat or Cloak, in the presence of any, that thou art not well acquainted withal; but thou must be careful, to let them be uncovered, especially amongst persons of quality.  
4. As unseemly a thing is it, that walking with others, in the street, (as it is a usual thing to do) and seeing any dead Dog, or any loathsome thing, that thou shouldest turn to thy companion, and show it him, ask him, whether he saw (as he passed by) that Dog, but that he take heed he be not the first occasion that those that walk with him do either see, or receive a loathing from it.  
5. This is also an ill custom, when (by reason of thy full feeding, or coldness of stomach, thou hast a provocation to rasp wind) for thee to do it so carelessly, and with such a noise, that all must take notice of it: but it ought to be done so privately that it may not be perceived, and some are so civil, that when they yawn or raspe wind, they smooth their hand over their faces, as if they were smoothing their beards, and at the same time, do cover their mouths, so that you cannot perceive them. He did clean contrary to this, who rasped wind with a great noise, and said it was all for his health, because it was the evacuation of the Air, and the coldness of his body, & thus commending himself in this manner as being for his health, one of the company answered him, Sir your worship may live in health, and yet may continue to be a Swine.  
6. It also is plain, that it is very ill, to be careless concerning thy nostrils, for there be some that breath very loud through them, and at times wipe them with their hands and then rub one hand against the other, at other times they thrust their fingers into their nostrils, and make Pellets of that they pick out, even before every body, that is present: as in like manner, some are wont to make cakes of the wax, which they pick out of their eyes, and into this carelessness and slovenliness we have observed many to fall. And much less ought any to use to take any thing in his hand, that smells ill, or may give a loathing, and to put it to another's Nose, that he may smell how it stinks: saying to him, as you love your life, do but try how ill this smelleth; but thou oughtest rather to endeavour he may not see it.  
7. Now even as all these, and many other things of this sort, do offend the sense of smelling and of tasting, together with the sense of seeing, so the gnashing of the teeth, and the grinding of hard stones, one against another, and scouring of Iron, do offend the ears, and set the teeth on edge, and a man ought as much as may be to take heed of them.  
8. A man of quality must also take heed he sing not (especially alone) if he have not a good and a tuneable voice, of which thing few take any heed, but it seems, that (naturally) those that have the worst voices, are least careful of this, and are wont to commend such men that sing much though very ill, these are like those that make such a noise in coughing and sneesing, that they offend all that are present.  
9 Others there be that spit aloft in the Air, who by undiscreetly behaving themselves in such actions, do sprinkell the faces of those that stand about them, and we may find in like sort some of them, who in yawning make a great noise like the noise of a beast, for that with their mouths wide open, they utter this voice, or to speak more properly make a noise like a dumb man in the midst of their speech or discourse, if they be talking of any thing, so that they cannot be understood, but are an offence to all that hear them. But a well behaved man must avoid much yawning, as much as he can, (and by consequence of the things before mentioned) because he that so yawns seems to be discontented, and to wish himself else where out of that company, and that the discourse and manner of it doth not like him; And though it be true that you think it is not in any one's power to leave yawning; yet notwithstanding all this, if the thought be busy upon any thing, be it in matter of delight, or otherwise, we never yawn because we never mind it, but if it be idle than it thinks on it, and thus it comes to pass, (as we have seen it often fall out) that when any one yawns in the presence of those that be idle, all of them will presently yawn, and there is as it were a certain agreement in gaping, which appears like a pastime amongst fools which might have been avoided, if one of them had not called it to mind: and to conclude, for one to yawn is as much as to say, he is transported, or without memory: it is requisite then for any one to shun this custom that is so unpleasing to the sight and to the hearing of others: for in using it, it is a token, that we are of a sleepy and sluggish disposition, which may make us to be ill beloved of those with whom we converse.  
10. In like manner there is another ill custom to be taken notice of, in some that do blow their Noses, very hard, and do in the presence of all, make a pause, to look into their handkerchiefs, upon that they have blowed out, as if that which were there were Pearls, or Diamonds that come out of their brains.  
11. It is also an ill custom, for any to put his Nose in the Platter, or bowl of Wine, or over the Meat which another is to eat, in taking occasion to smell unto it, or to look upon it, to give his opinion, and I approve not that he taste more of it, than he is himself only to drink, or eat: for something may fall from his Nose, which may cause a loathing to another, although nothing (in truth) do fall. And to fancy a thing though it be not so, is a great matter: much less oughtest thou to give another drink in the same Cup, wherein thou hast drunk thyself, except he be thy very familiar or thy servant, nor to give any a Pear or an Apple, of which thou hast bitten, For in not taking good heed of these things (though they seem to be very trivial) they become reproachful, even like little strokes or wounds, which if they be often given or repeated, may at last cause death unto thee.  
12. I can now tell you of a thing to this purpose which happened in Verona a City in Italy, where was a very wise Bishop, as well for his learning, as policy, who was called Don Juan Matheo Gilbert, who amongst other his laudable customs, was very courteous, and bountiful, doing honour to Gentlemen travellers, by entertaining of them, with such provision as was fitting for his quality, and so it fortuned that a noble Knight, called Count Richardo passing by that way, abode a few days with the Bishop, and his family, who were all of them, curious, neat and of excellent behaviour, and because they found the count, both in his behaviour, and his discourse to be a discreet Gentleman and a most noble Courtier, they did much value and esteem him, only they found a small defect in his behaviour, (which the Bishop and his servants had presently espied.) And so he consulted carefully with them, how they might tell and give him notice of it in such a way, that he might take no distaste at them, so the count being to depart the next day, when he had taken his leave, and giving the Bishop thanks for his courtesy afforded him, The Bishop called to him a discreet servant of his, named Galateo, (of whom this book took its name,) and bade him take horse and accompany the Count on his way, and that when he was on the way with him and saw his opportunity that he should in very smooth language tell him of the defect he had, the servant took the business upon him, and as he accompanied him, being now ready to take his leave of him, with a very cheerful countenance did thus bespeak him, my Lord, the Bishop my master, commanded me, on his behalf, to thank your Lordship, for your thankfulness, which you showed him, for endeavouring to do you service at your being at his house, and in recompense of this your courtesy, commanded me to make you a present (and I humbly beseech you it may be acceptable to you.) The present is this, my Lord you are the most discreet, gallant, and most sweet conditioned cavaleere I ever saw or conversed with, so that having seriously observed your excellent manner of behaviour, I found nothing in you that is not exceeding worthy of commendation, but only one thing, namely an untunable smack which you use with your lips, & mouth in eating your meat, which is very offensive, and I am sent to beseech you to receive this friendly reproof and admonition from him, instead of a present, and I assure you there is none other in the World but he that can present you with so good a present as this. The Count that never observed this defect in himself till now, and remembering how he had commended him, hearing him reprove him thus, blushed a little, yet like a brave man, recovering his courage, 〈…〉 the Bishop, that if all men's presents that they make one to the other were like his, they would be far richer than they are, and give him (from me) infinite thanks, for his so great courtesy and bounty showed me, assuring him, that from henceforth I will take heed to avoid this my blemish, and so he took his leave of him.  
13. Now than what shall we think that the Bishop would have said, and his noble family, to those that we see having the Hicket in their eating, sit fixed at the Table, never looking up, or moving their eyes, much less their hands from off the meat, with both their cheeks stuffed like a trumpeters, or as if they were blowing the fire: surely this is gluttony and not eating, who besmearing their hands even up to the wrists, make their napkins in such a pickle, that had they wiped their trenchers with them, they could not be more foul, and are not ashamed oftentimes to wipe off their sweat with them, which with greediness of eating runs down their foreheads and faces, and round their necks, and after this, do also wipe their Noses: these surely do not merit not only not to be received, into this Bishop's neat house which we have spoken of, but even ought to be expelled all civil men's company. That there may be no swinishnesse committed in our eating.  
14. Thou shalt not make thyself loathsome at meats and festivals, as some do, who account it a virtue to do unbeseeming things, in tumbling up and down the Meat, and Drink, measuring others stomaches by their own, for which (although others laugh, and like it well enough) they cause themselves to be accused of slovenliness and clownishness, and amongst civil and neat People, it shows ill. And the curious waiters and servants, that are busy in attendance of the Table, may not by any means scratch their heads nor any part of their bodies, before their masters, especially at time of meals, nor cover their hands in their bosoms pockets or else where, but they must be uncovered: and so clean, that they show not the least token of slovenliness. This they that wait must take heed of. And those that attend the Trenchers or Cups to drink in, must at that time forbear to spit, or cough, and much more to sneeses, for such actions are as bad, and the suspicion of them doth as much offend their masters, as if it were very true, they had thereby committed some incivility.  
16. And if thou have laid Pears or Apples to roast or bread to toast upon the Coals, thou must not blow the ashes off, that shall be upon them, for it is a saying, that there can be no wind, without water, but thou must either shake it (lightly) over the Trencher, or by some other such like way, to get off the ashes. The like falls out to them, that to cleanse away any little straw, or other thing, blow in the Wine, their friends are to drink, and it is an usual thing, with some too stand blowing of a thing that is too hot, to allay the heat, but if it be not a man's wife, (or some body else that we cannot take any dislike for doing it) it is a rash part.  
17. Thou mayst not offer any one thy Handkerchief, for him to wipe withal (let it be never so clean washed, because he thou offerest it unto, knows not so much, and it may procure a dislike in him.  
18. We must shun all ill customs, and qualities, and any other that bear but a resemblance of them, whereby we may at all offend the senses of those we converse withal, as I have before said.   

CHAPTER. 2. Of other things, contrary to the fancy and good liking.  
NOw we will mention such things, which without offence of any sense, do give distaste to most men, in whose presence we use them. First you must know, that men naturally desire and have an inclination to divers things, so that some seek to satisfy their anger, some their belly, some their senses, some their covetousness, and finally, some to satisfy one, some another passion, and desire: to correct which there are many remedies in our holy Religion, and every one putting his hand into his own bosom, shall perceive which of those desires is most powerful, that so he may there make the greatest resistance against that, that doth assault him with the greatest fury.  
1. It seems now, that men cove that which may afford unto them the act of communication, and to converse one with another; and this may be, love, honour, and recreation, or any thing that hath affinity with these: so that we ought not to speak, nor do any thing, in which we may give a token, to another, that we do little love or esteem him.  
2. And therefore it is a very unseemly custom, that many use. Namely to sleep where a civil society and company are talking of any thing; by careless doing of this, they seem to disparage the company, and set light by such discourse. It is farther to be considered, that he that is a sleep, is so far from care, and knowledge, of that he doth, that he uses, (oftentimes) to snort, or do some other displeasing thing to be heard, or to be seen, and very often you shall find him sweeting, and his mouth open, with much filth in it. It is also an ill custom, to rise and stand upright, where others are sitting, and discoursing, or at such a time, to pass through the room; for they are like those, which move up and down, and stand skipping and yawning and stretching themselves, turning themselves from one side to the other, that you would think, at the very instant they were troubled with an Ague or Palsy.  
3. They do as ill in like manner: who being in such company, do draw a Letter, or Bill out of their pockets, or bosom, and set themselves to read it before them.  
4. But they do worse, that with sisers, or with a Knife, prepare, to cut, or scrape their nails: which is as much, as if they esteemed nothing of the company, and that they must find other business to pass away the time.  
5. Nor should we (as little) use the manner, that some accustom themselves unto, to wit, to sing between the teeth, or to play with the fingers, nor to shake our legs, for he that doth so, may be thought to regard the company but little.  
6. Neither ought a man, so to turn himself, in his seat, or standing, that he turn his back to another, nor to lay one Leg upon another, so high; that the part which our garment should cover, be seen. Especially if he be a Divine; but much more ought women to take heed of this, whom stillness doth best become, and not to shuffle their feet up and down, nor to move or handle their Knees.  
7. Nor ought any (as little) to lean upon his elbows at the Table, nor to make much noise by knocking his heels against the seat he sits on, for such actions are not to be used, but by such persons, which show no respect to any one. It is true, that if a master, do it before his servants, or if it be done in the presence of a friend, that is of meaner quality than himself: he shows no pride in it, but love, and friendship.  
8. A man ought to keep himself upright, and not to rest or lean upon another, and when he speaks to any one, he must not thrust him, with his hand, or with his elbow, as many use to do at every word, saying is it not true that I say? do you hear me? and all the while they continue jogging them, with laying their hands on their breasts, or playing with their buttons; and I saw one, that used this in such sort, that he unbuttoned all he talked with. To conclude, you shall have some, that will always sit upon your Coat or Cloak, or some other part of your clothes, that you may listen to them, and are never still, nor can speak quietly. So that you may say, when you have got out of their hands, that you are as if you had been ground or stamped in a fulling mill.  

How we ought to be clothed.  
9 Every one ought to go well clad, according to his estate, and age: for to do otherwise, it seems that in seeking to be taken notice of, he despises the Nation, where he is, and therefore, the Citizens of Milan run out of their houses, in merriment, when they see any Venetian Gentlemen walk through the street in a Jerkin.  
10. And a man ought not only to clothe himself in fine cloth, silk or stuff, but to strive to come as near as he can) to the general fashion: and to submit to custom, though (perchance) he suppose it less useful, or handsome than the old fashion; And if through the City it be the fashion to wear the hair very short, thou must not were a peruque, nor when others wear great beards, thou must not be shaved, for this is to contradict others, and we must not thwart use, and custom, but in case of necessity, as we shall tell you hereafter: for this may make us hateful to the people, more than any other ill custom.  
11. None must, (at any time) oppose, or contradict, a common usage in such things, do not thou therefore alone wear in the streets a long robe down to the feet, when every body else wears one very short, but a little below the girdle: lest it fall out neither better, nor worse unto thee, then to him that hath a crabbed countenance and rigid face, whose disposition is so unsavoury, that every body turns to look upon him, as upon a wonder. It is the same thing with them, which wear their clothes out of the fashion, suitable to their own humour and pleasure: or do wear long hair, and a great beard, or extreme short and shaved, contrary to the custom: or who (being a young man) doth wear his Cap very flat and broad, or a low crowned Hat like a wives, or his ruff and cuffs of his shirt of too unseeming a greatness and proportion. For at all such every body stands gazing, and do point at them: whilst they themselves are much pleased with this, being those, (in their own conceits) who have sought to break a common custom, against all liking of the multitude.  
12. Their apparel then must be very fit, and becoming their persons, because those that wear rich, and noble apparel, but ill shapen, and deformed, are not thought to have had them made for their bodies, and doth demonstrate, one of these two things, either that they are careless of themselves, or that they are ignorant, what belongs to a good esteem, modesty or the compliment which is used amongst men.  
13. As little good is it on the contrary, to be so extremely curious, in this, that we should spend the most of the time in adorning and tricking of ourselves. And some there be of such an humour, that they place all their pleasure, happiness, and study, upon their clothes and outward fashion; And for aught else, are cold and unprofitable, and of little substance in their carriage, and conversation. They serve but for gazing stocks, and to be pointed at in the streets, and at meetings: so that others laugh and make sport and are discomposed at their trappings: as is used to be done at a maygame, or other like pastime; They are so punctually grave, and settled in their carriage, as if they were mere statues, curiously painted and set forth. And some of them are so self conceited, and well pleased with themselves, that if they did see themselves in the water, as they do in their glasses, they could not be kept from drowning themselves like Narcissus. These do also so martyr their bodies, in pinching, and sweesing themselves, that we have seen some that would not sit all day, that they might not ruffle their breeches, and go so penned up, that they are so galled, that at night, when they go to bed, they are as weary as if they had been all day in a combat.  
14. At the time when the fashion came up of wearing trunk-hose, some young men used so to stuff them with rags, and other like things: so that you might find some that used such inventions, to extend them in compass, with as great eagerness, as some women do (at this day) take pleasure, to wear great and stately verdingales, which matter I will not meddle withal, because it is so large, and hath so many chroniclers of it, that it is every day spoken of; I will only say that the wariness that the Women were wont to observe in concealing of their feet is suddenly passed to their necks, and by custom they have changed the place. So that now if you enter to see a Lady who perchance is unready, or in a careless fashion, if you find her without the starched, and set ruff, which women use to wear, (although you may see her feet) by reason of her verdingall, she will first lay hand to cover her neck, before she will stir to cover her feet, whereas heretofore, they did not only not cover them in their houses, but did go abroad bare necked, and bare breasted, another extreme clean contrary, to what is now used: but let us return to the masculine verdingalls, which is the pomp and the bays of their verdingall-breeches.  
15. I will here tell you what happened to one, that thought he excelled so much in this fashion, that he stuffed a Follado of velvet that he did wear with bran, and being set in seemly manner amongst some Ladies, to whom he desired to show his bravery, and neatness, as he was talking merrily, of something that pleased him, he was so exceedingly taken with delight that possessed him, that he could not take notice, of a small rent, which was made, with a nail of the Chair he sat upon, in one of his two pockets, of bran, (who, though the harm was but in his hose yet he found it after in his hart) for as he was moving, and stroking himself (with much gallantry) the bran begun to drop out by little and little without his perceiving of it, but the Ladies that sat over against him, and saw it (it being by his motion like meal coming from the Mill as it grindeth) laughed much at it and looked one upon another, and the gallant, supposing, that his good behaviour, mirth, and sporting, was pleasing to them, laughed with the Ladies for company, and it so much pleased him, that the more he strove to delight the company, the more his Mill did grind forth the bran. The laughter by little and little increased, and he appeared as confident as a man that hath shed much blood by a wound, until he espied the heap of bran, which came out of his hose, and then he begun to recall himself, and dissembling his shame, he took his leave, and departed, to mend the mischief that lay in ambush for him, as the proverb goes, you may find out blood by the footsteps.  
16. Better profit than this did a prisoner make of the linings of his breeches, who being to go before the Judge for a certain cause he was accused of, it being at that time when the Law was in force against wearing bays stuffed in their breeches, and he then having stuffed his breeches very full, the Judges told him, that he did wear his breeches contrary to the Law: who began to excuse himself of the offence, and endeavouring by little and little to discharge himself, of that which he did wear within them, he drew out of his breeches, a pair of sheets, two table clothes, ten napkins, four shirts, a brush, a glass, and a comb, nightcaps, and other things of use, saying, (all the hall being now strewed with this furniture) your highness may understand, that because I have no safer a store-house, these pockets do serve me for a room to lay up my goods in, and though it be a strait prison, yet it is a store-house big enough for them, for I have many things more of value yet within it. And so his discharge was accepted and well laughed at, and they commanded him, that he should not alter the furniture of his store-house, but that he should rid the hall of his stuff and keep them as it pleased him.  
17. But returning to the customs, I say that there are some so wedded to their wills, who though they much displease others, in the fashion of their clothes, and may (according to their years) go more fashionable, they cannot be brought unto it, because they will not conform themselves to the common, and ordinary custom. And to this purpose, they tell a story of a neighbour of Salamanca, who being a man of great means went clad in an antic fashion, and he carried under his arms clothe and new silks to make clothes of, by which men might see that he did it not out of lavishness or to spoil them, (for he carried his expenses along with him, but to see who kept their fashion. For at that time the fashions rid post. These are men very remarkable, and utterly opposing policy and credit, and good courtship.  
18. It behoveth then that thy garments be suitable to the custom of the people of thy years, and manner of calling, for we have no power to alter custom, at our pleasure and desire, so that we must move with the time. It is very true that it may fall out, that we may take liberty, not to habit ourselves, (punctually) according to the fashion: as when a man hath very great legs, or very small, or extraordinary fat, in that case a man may enlarge, or straighten his garments, a little more, then ordinary: and in like manner, if any be crooked or misshapen he ought not to wear clothes of a very remarkable colour, that others be not thereby invited, to behold his imperfections: neither ought a practised, and neat Courtier, to wear extraordinary gaudy clothes, nor too old and careless. Nor is it good at any time, to labour to be remarkable in his apparel, to the end he may be distinguished from the rest, but that every one appear conformable to his condition: therefore a scholar should not go like a soldier, nor a soldier like a scholar.  
19 Being in Rome with Lodowick de Bavere, Castrucio, the Duke of Luca and Senator of Rome, they reported, that for gallantry and royalty, he sent to have a robe made for him, of crimson Tabee, and that there should be written upon the breast of it, a motto (in letters of gold,) in this manner: It is as good wills it, and behind, upon the shoulders, another in these words, and it shall be, as God will have it. This was a robe, (in my opinion) better suiting to his Trumpeter, then to Castrucio himself, for potentates ought not to make such robes, though they be exempted from all rules. Nor do I commend King Manfred, for going always clad in green, because we ought (always) to esteem of that, which is in use, without causing any to speak of, or to admire us. Even as a discreet Ambassador did, who being to go Ambassador, to a strange Kingdom, and where it was said, they did wear many rude garments, he sent before where they were to procure his lodging to one of the stewards of his house to get him some apparel and household stuff fashioned according to the custom of the Land: and to see if pack-sadles were in use, and if they were, to buy one for him of the better sort, for that in such manner, Ambassadors have been seen, to go of Embassies, to foreign Kingdoms, and when they first entered therein, to clothe themselves after the fashion of that Land. For this is the way to obtain better favour, and better traffic for his master. And so I conclude this treatise of clothing: That these that make little reckoning, how they go clad, are ill accepted of, and gain little love, in their conversations.    

CHAPTER. 3. Of those that are unsavoury in their deeds and actions.  
WE formerly spoke of those that make themselves contrary to the most, and are different in their apparel: And we have spoken (purposely) of the ill, that extremes beget, but yet there are others, that exceed all this, whose suspicious deeds, and works are such, that no man can endure them: or converse with them: but by reason of their ill condition, they think all that they hear, or see, to be naught: and do cool all society, and the delight of those, that esteem well of it; and for the most part do overthrow all. And like to these, are such who when they are joined in society, and set at the Table, to eat: after they have washed their hands, or it may be when the meat is upon the Table, do make all the rest to wait for them, by either beginning to write some letter, or finding some other trivial business, or do walk a little, saying, it is time enough, they may stay a little, what haste is there yet, etc. and make all the company displeased with them, as such that respect nothing, but their own will: never considering how displeasing this is to the rest of the company there.  
1. The surpassing all the rest are such who setting themselves in the best places, and being served first before the rest, yet nothing contents them, but that which themselves, either speak, or do, making mouths and faces at any thing else.  
2. Some others are so strange, and so averse from restraining their own wills, that nothing may be done which is not according to their manner: And do always make answer with a sour countenance, to all is spoken, and do never leave chiding, and brawling, threatening their servants, and pages, and in this manner do perpetually disturb all the company (speaking in this or the like sort) you called me at a sweet time this morning, see how clean you have washed this. Why did you not go to Church with me, you rogue, beast, how can I forbear to break thy head? all these are very uncivil manners, to be used before any body. And such, that though a man be in deed very humble, and do not out of malice use this custom, but for want of taking notice of it in himself, or by reason of an ill custom, yet for all this yet he seems to be proud in these outward actions: and is ill thought of by the People, for pride is nothing else but to esteem himself better than another, For so it is, that every one ought to be esteemed of, and courteously used according as we esteem him to be worthy of it.  
3. As little ought we to do any thing before others whom we desire to give content unto, which may savour more of command, than friendship: but we ought to manifest, that we bear a reverence, and an account of the company, with whom we converse.  
4. For this cause it is esteemed a reproachful thing, to brawl and give ill language to ones servants, much more to buffet them with our fists, or to beat them with a cudgel, which is (in a sort) to seek to exercise one's power, and authority: which we ought not to do, in their presence, whom we ought to respect. Because it gives them distaste, and doth much dash the company, especially if it be at the Table, which should be a place of mirth, and not of offence, and therefore we ought not to be there in choler. And if by chance one be displeased, he ought not to show it, or make his trouble to be known, especially if you have strangers for your guests, for having brought them thither to serve them, and to give them content, in thus doing, they do torment them, which is as if one were eating some very tart, or bitter meat, which we see makes those that stand looking on, to show ill favoured actions, and 〈◊〉 faces, so to see another troubled doth trouble and vex us.  
5. We may in like manner say, that they are crookedly made up, that are contrary to others in all things: and so you may see, that all contrariety is ill, for those that desire to gain the affection of others, and labour to be well esteemed; for to persevere only in contradiction, and to thwart every man's pleasure, is not the behaviour of a friend, but of an enemy. Therefore let every one labour to rid himself of this vice, especially those that desire to gain the people's love, for instead of gaining love, they will be hated and have ill will, but rather should we subject ourselves to another's pleasure, that no disgrace may arise to ourselves by the contrary.  
6. Nor ought any to show himself rude or harsh, but mild and affable, and we must know that he is said to be courteous, whose conversation, and conditions are such, (in his common use and custom) that he useth his friends like friends, not accusing or finding fault with their actions, or with their words, but he must bear with the infirmities they are subject unto, and make as if he saw them not, for he that carries himself strangely, or leave the comcompany, is counted uncivil and rude, on the contrary mild and affable men, are so good Courtiers, that where ever they go, you would think they were amongst their acquaintance, and that they were every body's friend, gaining much applause by their civil carriage, and sweet behaviour: we must therefore salute men with a pleasing gesture and good language, and answer in a sweet manner, as if every one were his countryman, or acquaintance.  
7. Some act this part very ill, who are so sad, and of so settled a countenance, that they cannot show any body a good look, and do answer all questions, with no such as these cannot receive the honour, acceptance, nor endeerment that others procure, and are so rude that they are not to be visited, nor do give any content, nor are stirred, or delighted with any discourse, or matters of pleasure, but do refuse all offers, and if any be sent unto them, to let them know that such a Lord commanded him to salute and visit him, they answer, what care I for his visits, or salutes: or if he tell them such a one sent me to see how you do, he will answer let him come and feel my pulse: such as these deserve little love of any body.  

Of punctualities and neatness.  
8. Nor is it good for any to be melancholy, and sad, nor to show any sign of it, to those we converse, and communicate withal, because this is fitting only for some students and contemplative men, that are conversant in the studies of some of the liberal sciences, And therefore they do contrive to pass their sadness alone by themselves.  
9 Much less should a man be so curious, and so apt to find fault, that men must as they say, walk always in print: for to keep company with such, is rather a torment then a society, and many of these are so brittle as it were, and punctual, that they will stand strictly considering, what title you gave them: and if you be never so little negligent towards them then there ariseth quarrels, and wranglings, saying, you called me not Sir, nor worshipful, nor did you at the Table, give me place according to my desert, and that was fit for me. You came not to visit me at my lodging, after I had been at yours: you should not do thus, to a man of my quality, and many such like speeches, that no man can suffer or endure. For they so excessively love themselves, that they have no leisure nor place to regard others: and so they easily and for very trifles, spoil all their friendship, making it like to friendship that is covered with a most curious veil, whereby it cannot be pleasing, but very unacceptable: which tender delicateness, and behaviour, should be left to women, I mean to some, who are so nice, and full of fault finding that they place all their reputation, in punctilio's, and spend more time to make good their fooleries, then is needful, by reason of the jealousy, and little reckoning they make one of another. I speak this without prejudice to the most who are of a better behaviour, and of so sweet a conversation, that we should do exceeding well, to learn to imitate them.    

CHAPTER. 4. How we ought to speak.  
WE may err in our speech, many, and sundry ways: And first in the matter we propose, which ought not to be frozen, or of no substance, nor base and vile, lest they that hear us, instead of receiving pleasure, do scoff both at us and at our discourse also.  
1. Nor in civil conversation, ought a man to show himself very subtle, or curious, in his discourse: because so doing, he will make himself hardly to be understood of the most: and he that is to speak, aught to take good heed, that his speech be not such, nor his carriage, that any by slander be made ashamed therewith, nor made to blush, or to receive any gird, or affront thereby.  
2. Much less ought one to speak beastly, or silthily, though the auditory seem pleased with it: for it is not sit, for civil persons, to study to give others content, but in honest and decent things.  

That men ought to speak with reverence in things appertaining unto God.  
3 Much more ought every one take heed, that in such meetings, he speak not inconsiderately, of holy things, nor to make jests, and sport of them, for such use belongs to ill mannered men, and we shall find many so discreet, that they will presently depart such company that they hear to speak of such things unadvisedly, and without reverence.  
4. And we ought, not only to speak holily, and with much reverence, and consideration, in things concerning God, but a curious man ought, in all his discourse, to provide that his words may give a testimony, of his life and works.  
5. For if when we be in the company of people of quality and those that be curious, we endeavour that we may not err in our discourse nor to give due precepts, and advise, but more especially when we are before our parents, or powerful friends, to whom we owe respect, and do tie ourselves, to a decent behaviour, and an humble carriage, because we may be their creatures, and favourites: how much greater care, and vigilancy, ought we to use in the Church, and holy places, especially at the time when any religious office is doing there? This is a thing that every body well knows, therefore I need not to speak much of it: yet that we may do that, which behoves us so much, let us have God's word always in our hands, out of which the Preachers, and Ministers, do propose examples unto us. Consider therefore only what gravity is there required, though it seem to be but policy, so to behave thyself in the Church that no body may take notice of thee. Hence we may gather how ill they do, that are talking and are unquiet in such places and at such holy exercises: nor ought any there to make legs, and compliments, with such noise, as if they were at the Court, nor to depart the holy Table with a light carriage, but showing modesty, and humility, nor ought any to behave himself so, that he may draw men's eyes upon him; nor to lie lolling on one side or curiously to gaze upon those that are entering into, or are in the Church. Nor to make antic gestures, and strange faces, when thou prayest, as many use to do, often lifting up their hands, above their heads, and flinging abroad their arms and stretching themselves, as those do that are newly awakened out of sleep: kissing their fingers, and using such other exterior actions, and gestures, which trouble them, that are near them, by drawing all their eyes upon them. But God is better served, with the heart, then with outward shows: therefore to conclude, show thyself there rather like the poor Publican, than the proud Pharisee.  
6. And if there be any thing there, that may procure laughter, yet let it not hinder thy devotion; it is true, that sometimes, there fall out things in the Church, that would require us to settle our countenances, and do even cast those off the hooks (as they say) that see, or hear them: to this purpose I cannot omit, though it be from the subject, to relate some impertinencies, which have happened in this kind, as of an old woman, who every time the Priest said Dominus vobiscum, or the Lord be with you, thinking the words to be obispos, which signify in the Spanish tongue, Bishops: always prayed, that the Bishops, Patriarches, and Cardinals, would be her helpers: and to the same purpose, I have been credibly informed, that such a prattling woman as this, recommending to God, the good estate of her family, amongst other things, that she required, prayed thus, I beseech thee my Lord Jesus Christ, that for such a one my daughter, thou grant me a rich and wise husband, a Gentleman, no gamester, whoremonger, nor given to any vice, and a thousand like impertinencies: and at last, when she could not remember, what more to pray for, she prayed that whilst she was thus praying, her pot might not burn to, or boil over, and that she might find it, at her return, well boiled, and seasoned. No doubt any that hears such impertinencies, can hardly forbear to laugh, and must either depart, to another place, or mar his devotion, with these or the like things: wherefore if by chance, any hear, or see things, that force him to laugh, let it be so wary, that those that are near him, may not perceive it.  
7. Let us now return, (with our Galatheo) to consider, what we ought to do, in our conversation. I have said that it is very blame worthy, to talk of things, which are much thwarting the times, and the persons, that hear us. (Also in feasts, and at meals, we ought not to move sad discourses.) But men ought to speak of such things, which are proper for the persons, and place, and are well liked of. And therefore in merriments, and at feasts, melancholic stories, are not to be told, as of sicknesses, and deaths, misfortunes, pestilence, or the like: nor to call to mind, or mention, any mournful matter, but if any fall upon such discourse, we ought in a merry, and sweet manner, to divert him, from such talk, and offer other subjects, to talk of, more convenient, and cheerful. I have heard say of an old Philosopher, that he affirmed, that for the preservation of man's life, it is necessary, that there be a time to weep, as well as to laugh. And that for that reason, he said, that of old, those sad fables, which they called Tragedies, were invented, by acting of which, upon the stage, (as was then usual to do) they might make those shed tears who had need so to do, and by such weeping, they might be cured of their infirmities. But for that which concerns us, it becomes us not, to make sad the minds of those we discourse with, but should rather labour to solace, and delight them. For if it were true, that any should be sick for lack of weeping, it would be a small matter, to cure that disease, either with a little strong mustard, or by enduring a little smoke. And so must we as it is said at such times, avoid melancholy discourses.  
8. We ought also, to interrupt him, that talks impertinently, and wastes much time, and talk, only for their pleasure. Like some, that even fattened with the love they bear their little children, do talk of nothing but of them, and their nurses, in this manner, this is so pretty a child, and makes me always so merry that you cannot imagine it. My little girl, is very delightful to me, she speaks already mum, Dad, and many other such words. And they suppose that as they themselves are pleased with this, and do spend their time therein, so must they, that hear them, take the like pastime: although for certain, no man can be so much taken herewith, that he can be delighted, to spend his time, always in hearing the same things, especially when the Fathers do bring in such discourse, by the head and shoulders as we use to say.    

CHAPTER, 5. Of those that set themselves to tell their dreams.  
THey do ill that make a settled discourse, in the punctual relating of their dreams, in such earnest, and so wondering at them, that the telling of them becomes a torment to the hearer of them, except he that tells them do find some wonder indeed in them, or at least so much witty conceit, in some of them, that he knows that the humours of them that hear him being prepared for such discourse, they will find pastime in them. And though some wise men of old, did leave books behind them, written of dreams, and those composed with great understanding, and acuteness of wit, yet we in our ordinary conversation, ought not to discourse of them.  

A dream of example:  
1. And of all the Dreams I ever heard related, (though I have heard but few, and given credit to none) that me thinks was the best which they report, that one Micer Flaminio a Gentleman of Rome did Dream, which me thinks was very material and of much consideration. He thought in his sleep, that he was sitting in a rich apothecaryes' shop, that was his neighbour, and not knowing the reason, he saw that all the people, with great tumult took away all that was in it, and one took an electuary, another took away sweet meats, one, one thing, another, another, and then they fell of eating, in such a manner, that there was neither box, glass, pot, or vial, but it was quite emptied, and amongst them there was a little vial glass, full of a clear liquor, which all smelled unto, but none of them did eat it; and it was not long, but he saw a man of a great stature, being ancient, and of a venerable countenance, who beholding the pots, and glasses, and finding one cracked, another overturned, and most part of them broken, he cast his eye, upon the little viall-glasse, I spoke of: and setting it to his mouth, he drunk out all the liquor not leaving one drop, and then went out, as the rest had done before him; at which Micer Flaminio seemed to wonder much, and turning to the Apothecary, he asked him, Sir what thing is this, and why hath this honourable old man, drunk up so savourly, the water in the little vial, which the others refused. To whom the Apothecary answered: Son this venerable man, is our Lord, and the water which he (alone of all the rest) did drink up, (which you saw was refused) is the discretion, to judge rightly of things, the which men do not seek to preserve, in any thing in this World.  
2. Such Dreams as this may well be told, and be excused, because they rather seem to be good thoughts, of a man awake, than a vision of a troubled fancy. But for other Dreams, void of sense, or probability, as for the most part, even learned men (themselves) do dream, as well as the unlearned, we ought not to spend our time, in telling of them.    

CHAPTER, 6. Of Liars.  
THough we may think, that there is nothing of less moment, than Dreams: yet for all this, we see other things that are worse, and more idle, and vain: as namely lies, or false Tales, for of that which a man hath seen in his Dream, may be said something, because all a man's life is but as it were a certain Dream, or Fancy, but a man never dreamt a lie. Therefore we ought less to trouble the ears, and understandings, of those that hate lying, with Lyes then with Dreams. Because although they being but Jests, yet this danger is in them, that sometimes, they are taken for truth; Yet amongst good conditioned people, Liars do receive this reward, that becoming first reckoned, but as Jesters, they are afterwards people of no credit, and their discourse is scarce excusable, as being frothy words, without substance. And it is neither more nor less, then as if when such a one speaks, as if he said nothing: or as if he did but draw, and breath out the air. And you must know, that you may talk with some that love lying so well, that they will lie, though it be to no end, nor profit to them: but only, because a lie of their own, doth much please them. Even as a Drunkard, that often drinketh, not for thirst, or need he hath, but only for the love of the drink, and they are so besotted in telling lies, that though they tell impossibilities, they think they must be believed. As I once heard tell of a Liar, that related of himself that he one day, being very thirsty, and being a very good markes-man, shot a pellet at a Pitcher of water, that stood in a garret window, and made a round hole in it, and that presently from thence, there came to him a Conduit-pipe with water, to which he set his mouth, and drunk his fill. And when he perceived, that he had hitherto given content to the company, he continued his discourse, in this manner: That afterward, he shot at the same Pitcher another bullet that was somewhat bigger, and hit it so just in the same place that he stopped the hole so tight, that on drop of water could not come out, & though the lie were well laughed at, yet one that stood by, knowing it to be a very vain glorious humour in him, and it being tedious to him, answered him, Sir your worship spends your time in vain, and you tyre us all, and he that thinks he can make us believe this, must either take us for fools, or his enemies. Another answered him thus, Sir I have seen Liars before, but your worship may be the King's Liar, better than any I ever yet saw or heard of.  
1. Some others do lie only for vain glory, relating what wonders they have done, and to be thought great Soldiers, and Statesmen, and strive to entertain men, with things so incredible, that one may smell the lie, a league off: and so can gain no credit from their auditory, except they bring witness to prove all they say. That we may see how they come infected with the Plague of vain glory, those I mean that belly their deeds and works, You may understand.  
2. Men may as well lie in concealing themselves (to wit) in their works, and actions from every one, like some that being but of an ordinary quality, in respect of their persons, and places, do pretend they are much more, and use such ceremonies, and do so Lord it, in their manner of carriage, as if they were Dukes, and Earls. These do set themselves to speak with such state, as if they were speaking from the bench, going in such a posture, that they would be thought to be the head, whereas they are but the feet: labouring in their actions, to imitate men of great rank, and in the furniture of their houses, that it is a torment to see, how ignorant they are of their weakness, and that they cannot let their heads blood of these vanities.  
3. There are some others that lie in this manner, who wearing but mean clothes, do gild themselves over with Chains, and Rings, and medals, which they fasten here, and there about them: that you would think they carried them about, rather to sell them then to make themselves gallant; And you may see their pride and vanity a mile off, that place their worth only, in the back or outward appearance: which are things displeasing, and much disconsonant to reason, and good fashion.  
4. And you must know that in many and (those) the best Cities, it is not suffered, that any rich man be seen much distinguished from a poor man, in the alteration of his fashion, because the poor men think they receive reproach, especially if they be honourable, or well borne: when others make such difference in their clothing from them.   

CHAPTER, 7. Of Gaming.  
ANd before we proceed, we will here (by the by) speak of that, the doing whereof, is ill spending the time, yea the worst spent, and sometimes more hurtful, then either telling of Dreams, or Lies, namely that which we spend in Gaming.  
1. And therefore he that would be accounted a gallant Courtier, must not play for covetousness to win: especially at Cards, or Dice: for it is plainly seen, that he that spends his time, and means in gaming, hath no leisure, for Courtship, or sweet and pleasing carriage, and behaviour, suitable to the drift, that this treatise aims at. For if he play for much, you may understand, that his intent is no other, but a greedy desire to increase his estate, by his friend's loss: and so play, doth by this means lose the proper name it signify, which is sport, or jest and not earnest, nor to be so serious a thing as it may seem to be by those that make it their whole business. And in effect they make a vice of that, which may be virtuous, for in using it only as play, and keeping a moderation in that we play for, and the time we spend in it, it is a converse, to pass away our idle time, without prejudice, or hurt to any: especially for those that have no offices nor charges to employ themselves in, but are idle and want business, and have not to do but to fancy Chimeras in their brains. Those that play for pastime, must play for little, and that with their friends, and acquaintance: and at such Games, as are fit, for civil people, but having no skill in play, thou oughtest not to bet, though it be never so little, nor to play with those, that are choleric, and ill conditioned, but with those, thou mayest be merry, and pleasant withal; for there are some, that are so quick, that they grow in choler, and chafe like mad men, and beat the Cards against the Table, and give ill language, tending to ill wish, and reproach: And yet these Gamesters, do ordinarily say, when they lose, that they are not so impatient, for loss of their moneys, but for their ill luck.  
2. The truth is, that let the game be never so small we play at, it troubles us too much to lose: and such as these, if at first, we know their humour, it is best not to play with them the second time. here than I will make an end of this matter, and that with a jest, that a certain Cavalleere broke upon some, that were, playing at Primero, and it was this: it happened, there being certain discontents, amongst the Gamesters, he asked them, why they were so offended, and one of them answered, Sir because we are here playing at foolery, if you play at that Game said he, you may vie it without fear, and make large stakes, for you have all enough of that, left to lose: and in this merry way they were contented to be jeered, and so will I leave them, to proceed with my acquaint Galateo.   

CHAPTER, 8. Of Boasting.  
AS little ought a discreet man, and one of quality to fall suddenly into a discourse of his nobility, and descent, nor of his honour, and riches, much less to commend himself for his former valorous acts: or to draw them into his discourse, upon every occasion: as many are wont to do, seeming thereby, to make comparisons, with every one that stands near them, by which means, if (peradventure) they be of mean condition, they do as it were vilify them, and hit them in the teeth, with their mistortunes, and poor estate. Which is a thing much displeasing unto every one. And into this fault, we see them fall, that have but very little spirit: and the little goodness they have, is not very eminent in their bodies.  
1. And for this reason, a man ought not, either to abase, or to exalt himself, beyond reason, and should rather let some of his merits vanish as the Air, then to show any arrogancy in his words, for even the good which may be found in this case, when it is much stood upon contenteth not; Being but vain glory, cloaked with humility: on the other side, we must understand, that those who (by words) do without measure, either extol their own worth, or dispraise it, and seem to destroy those honours, which do manifestly belong unto them, show more pride therein, than those that do usurp such honours, that they never merited. And therefore some will say that (by chance) the wise Giotto, did not deserve the title of master, which was given him, because he refused it, for you must know, that at that time he was not only a master, but the most famous master of all others. And therefore it is certain, that he that shuneth to be called by the title that he deserveth, and that which all of his condition, do challenge to themselves, shows also that he undervalues all the rest. And so in like manner to set light by the honour, and renown, which is so much set by, is a kind of boasting and extolling himself, above others; For it is true, that none of sound judgement will refuse things so well liked, and are obtained by a man's virtue and study, except he, that holds them to be very idle, and superfluous. Nor ought we to be vain glorious, of our wealth, and riches, like some who are so well pleased with them, that with a little applause of those that are about them, do make circles on the ground, and marks with their swords, or some other thing, very seriously deciphering out, their purchases, and wealth, and making representations, of Towns, and Armies, and that (most usually) before those that never knew what belonged to war. Like some, that frame such like discourse as this, that follows; here is (Sirs) the Fort, the Enemy aproached on this side, and our men marched there, I marched in the van, &c:  

Of Babblers.  
It is accounted but a sport to hear men talk thus, to those which frequent, and devote themselves to Taverns, and tippling houses; and are very loosely given: who when they be well laden with wine do grow enraged, and adding fuel (thereby) to their natural inclinations, they think they are able to command all the World: and when such a talkative fellow as this, considers in what account he is, amongst his Companions, there is no more to be said, for he must only control and govern all; And than you shall see him frame himself, to Babble thus, Sir the World is all naught, there is nothing cottons, I wonder by the faith of a King, the Moors do not break in upon us, and even come into our Houses: if I had the government in my hands, I would make the Cock crow otherwise: and so he prepares himself for another full Cup.  
2. I cannot omit, (here) to tell what I once (my self) did see, in Vallodolid having my Lodging next the market place, and where was (usually) a Tavern, and an Ordinary for those that came thither, to run races, where out of a dining Room, that overlooked the said Tavern, I could hear, and see all the passages were done there. At that time, one Sacamuellas Castromocho, a learned man, and one that then knew well, how to bang the Pitcher, was precedent, who being there with others of his kindred, and camarades one day after dinner, when they had well filled their bellies, one began to make a doubt, and to move this question. Tell me now my Lord Castromocho, and you other brave cavalleeres here present, which is the purest Plant which is at this day to be found in the World: one said the Lily, another the July-flower, a third named the Tulip: and so in this manner, were many reckoned up, every one giving the best reason he could for his opinion. But Castromocho putting forth his hand and commanding silence, said unto them. Now surely none of you come near the matter, therefore confess you are conquered. And know, that the purest Plant, that is in the World, is the Nettle, for whereas all the rest may be made foul, and you may take them in your hand and do what you will with them; the Nettle you cannot, for it defends itself against you. All the company yielded to it, but when the matter was ended, Sacomuelas called for Wine, and so did all the rest: and the most of them took such refreshinges, so void of water, that it appeared very pleasing to their eyes, to be beheld in the Glass. And then another of the company asked of another difficulty in this manner. Tell me now my Lord Castromocho, and all your honours, whither the soul goes to rest, when it goes out of the body. Castromocho answered, let every one else, first tell his opinion, and then at the last, I will determine the question; and then some said into Heaven, others said into Hell, and a third into purgatory, according to every one's opinion, but Castromucho concluded with his declaration, saying, give attention, you must know that the soul going out of the body, goes directly to S. james of Galicia, always excepted, that if he wear not a Drawer, for that they would not go that way, but a worse; and with this conclusion, and with other noise that he made, he fell asleep, to spend his drunken humour; and so concluded this illustrious society. But let us leave him sleeping, till he may be awakened, peradventure than he will be of another opinion, than he was formerly, and let us return to them that wear black Cloaks, of whom we have purposely dealt withal concerning boasting. I say that every one should be silent in things that concern his own praises, as much as he may, but if by chance any occasion, or opportunity, enforce any of us, to speak any thing of them, it is a commendable Custom to speak the truth, mildly and softly, and in a certain careless manner, without using much restraint: and for this reason, they that take pleasure, in acquaint Courtship, aught to abstain from this, which some accustom themselves unto, namely to deliver their opinions so resolutely, upon any thing, giving a definitive sentence, to hear whom it is irksome; But expect what they would say, is more torment to utter in vain preambles of their good education.  
3. Such are those men, that speak nothing but preambles, to show their manners, as if they should say, Sir I beseech your worship, to pardon me: if perchance I am ignorant, how to make your worship conceive me, because I speak so rudely, according to my little knowledge, I am sure your worship, will laugh at me, yet to obey you, I will not forbear to speak that you command me: and so they stand so long in such circumstances, that any question how hard soever, may be determined with fewer words, than they wast in such circumlocutions.  
4. In like manner, are they very troublesome and tedious, in the overacting of their carriage, or in taking their places, showing themselves mean, and humble, and setting themselves in the lowest, whereas the first and chiefest place is due unto them; and they always strive, to be one of the last, which is a great trouble, to see, so much time spent, to make them go before, And oftentimes they will stand hearing a discourse or some other thing, with much pleasure, and attention: and so whilst the Gentleman is giving you testimony of his good breeding by going on foot, he is troublesome to you in making you wait for his coming, and so they strive vainegloriously to be thought humble, by means of their feigned hypocrisy. So that the more you call them, the more do they draw back, getting behind by little and little, and are like starting Horses that cannot be gotten forward; and therefore those that are used to good manners finding the inconvenience that ariseth from this troublesomeness, that they may not break the thread of society, hold it less inconvenient, to take the place, or seat is offered them, though it be better than they should have, rather than give occasion to this tumult, that may be occasioned by them, in doing otherwise. And when men enter or depart such societies, the experienced Courtiers, hold it for better breeding, to do nothing, but readily to come in, and readily to go out, yea even without putting off your hat, or taking leave, rather than to use endless ceremonies, as many use to do.    

CHAPTER, 9 Of Ceremonies.  
BY that which we have said, you may understand that superfluous ceremonies, are to be avoided, which were of less use, amongst the ancients, than now they are; and this vain use of them, seems like to the Lies, and Dreams, which I have before spoken of, for the much vanity is in them, and we do improperly call them ceremonies. For of old, ceremonies were taken, for that solemnity, that the Priests did use at the Altars, in their divine offices, belonging to holy things, that concerned God's Worship. But now that name hath been usurped upon, ever since men began, to reverence one another, bowing, and wreathing themselves in their congees, in an artificial manner, in token of their observance vailing their bonnets, and calling men Lords, and giving them other extraordinary titles, Kissing their Hands, as if they were hallowed: And some seeing this custom so new, and of such importance amongst men, called it ceremony, by a new phrase, or manner of speaking, as in like manner we call, eating, and making merry, (in a jeering way) a triumph.  
1. Ceremonies then if we look at the intentions of those that use them, are a certain vain expression, of honour, and respect toward him unto whom we do give reverence, and it consisteth, as well in the countenance, and gesture, as it doth in our words, stuffed with great titles, and high expressions. And I call it vain, because we honour to the eye and in outward appearance, those that in our hart we honour not, and we nevertheless use this ceremony towards them that we may not be out of the fashion; and we call one illustrious, or such an one my most noble Lord: and do profess ourselves their servants, and creatures, when we never intend any service unto them. And so such ceremony, may not only be accounted for Lies: but a certain falsehood, and treachery, and such men as these, do so proceed in these illustrious titles, and other ceremonies (which we formerly spoken of) that never regarding the merits, nobility, estate or quality of the person, they do give them to any one, what ever he be, so that oftentimes you cannot distinguish mechanic people, from the nobility, and men of quality, by the manner of converse, and ceremonies, that men use towards them. And as it is true, that anciently, there were set, and distinct titles, appointed for every one, as a Pope, an Emperor, and the like, which men could not omit, without being uncivil to him that had such title; so could they as little be given to them to whom they belonged not, without disgrace unto them. But now (in our age,) we see that such titles, and expressions of honour may be used more freely. Because custom is a most powerful commander, and now it gives us a larger privilege to use them.  
2. That custom which seems good without, is within idle, and consists in shows, without substance, and in words without signification: and yet, we may not alter them, but must imitate them, for it is not our fault, but the fault of the age we live in, yet we must do it discreetly; in which we are to consider, that ceremonies, and compliments, are performed in three manners, namely for profit, for vanity, for obligation.  

First Ceremony for profit.  
3. For profit, we intent every Lie that is spoken, for the particular interest, and profit of him that speaks it, and this is a sinful fraud, and a dishonest thing, for a man cannot lie honestly, and this sin do flatterers commit, who (As it is reported of the Chameleon, that he changeth himself into the colour of that place they put him in) so in like manner, transform themselves into the shape of friends, and are conformable to every body's humour, be it what it will, not to please us, but to gain something by us, not to give us content, but to cozen us, and though this by chance may seem a pleasing vice, unto those, that are vain gloriously given, get for all this, it is (in itself considered) abominable, and damnable: and therefore a well fashioned man ought not to use it, for if such ceremonies, as these, be but Lies, and flatteryes, when ever we use them for our own profit, then surely we do so often act the parts of naughty, and false-hearted men, and therefore no such ceremonies should be used.   

Secondly, Ceremony for vanity.  
The second Ceremony, (which we said men used for vanity) is (as we have formerly said) when to make ourselves be thought to have been well educated, (Although we aim at nothing but vain glory therein) we give unto any, greater titles than their due, and we offend thus by giving too much, that they may do the like to us: and these, are plain and noted Flatteryes, so that they that speak, and use them, to this end, besides that they are so ill in themselves, are offensive, and troublesome to others: being so contrary to all truth.   

Thirdly, Ceremony for Obligation.  
The third manner of Ceremonies, are such as are done for Obligation or for desert, and are not to be omitted, and therefore they that forbear to use them, do not only displease, but do an injury, and oftentimes it falls out, that by this means, he that is thus negligent comes to be reprehended, and to gain envy, especially when one Citizen, ceases to give such honour to another, as the use is to do, as in not putting off the hat, nor speaking civilly, in which he doth very ill.  
For the force of custom, is very great, and in such cases, aught to be observed, like a Law: and so he that calleth to another by his name being not far better than he is, doth undervalue him, and commits an uncivil act in naming him, for he knows that in such language, men call unto workmen, and labourers, and although in this place heretofore, and in other Countries, even at this day men may use such mean titles, without undervaluing of any one: yet we must not disobey the modern fashion: but are bound to observe it, as a Law; And therefore it is necessary for us, that we diligently learn, the actions and words, which are at present in use, to give, and receive, by way of salutation, or speaking to any, even in that Country where we live. And though in the time of Don Pedro of Arragon, the Admiral was many times called, his Majesty, because it was the custom of that time, so to do, yet we ought not, (for all this) to call our King on this manner: if we were now either to speak or to write unto him. For such use as our age observes, such also must we do. And these I call due ceremonies, because they proceed not from our free will, and pleasure, but because they are become a Law, and common custom. But if by chance they may be left: one ought not to be so singular, as to oppose, that which is accounted good behaviour: like some unpleasing men, that think, that every one owes them respect, and know not themselves how to return any one a good word, and do take pleasure to be taken notice of, for these extremities. On the Contrary to these, there are others, so excessively abounding in good manners, that we may say, they have as much too much, as those others have too little, and they spend all their times, in Compliments, to show their good breeding, and other like impertinencies. And they dwell so long upon things, (which in themselves are nothing) to make them pleasing to others, that it becomes troublesome, these are made of mere ceremonies, speaking after this manner. Your honour hath showed me so much favour, that, I hold myself most obliged to serve you, as long as I live. If God please to grant me time for it, I shall be most prodigal, to spend it in your honour's service, and such like stuff as this. A certain Bishop's Chaplain, did purposely use such returning of thanks, as these: the Bishop his master, having bestowed certain benefices, and pensions, upon certain of his servants: to this Chaplain though he had served him long time, he gave the least benefice: not being worth above eighty Ducats a year and that will cure. But when the rest were to give thanks for their pensions, and rewards, some to the value of five hundred ducats, others to the value of three hundred, and some to the value of four hundred ducats: it fell out, that he that had that but of eighty ducats, gave the greatest thanks, showing greater content than all the rest, at which the Bishop (marvailing somewhat) asked him why he gave the largest thanks, this reward which he had bestowed upon him, being the least, and of so little value. He answered, that he esteemed it more than if he had given him one of a thousand Ducats, it being so suitable to his necessities: he being (as he was by nature, so choleric, that no master could bear with him; nor indeed was there any servant that he could bear withal, and so that living not being enough to keep a boy, and too much for him to remain with his Lordship (it being with cure of souls) therefore he gave him so great thanks, for both freeing him from a master, and also from a man. I say therefore some use too many, and some too few ceremonies.   

Of kissing the hands.  
1. And although kissing in sign of reverence, is most properly used amongst us, in holy things, as the kissing of relics, and dead men's bones, yet in our Country also, We have a custom, to say, I kiss your honour's hands: I beseech your honour, to account me for your servant; and though we eat to speak it usually, yet in saluting, and taking leave, and in our Letters, and Epistles, that we write, we must use it, and it being grown a custom, we ought not to tie ourselves to the old way, nor to wonder at it, like some inconsiderate, and weak men, that speak in this manner, do you see, who I must call my Lord, And what Lord is he I pray? perchance it is the Curate of the Parish, that I am thus bound to give the Bezoar las manos unto, etc.  
But it is manifest, that another, that is not used to say my Lord, nor to be called so, may think that thou dost it, to affront, or disgrace him: and when thy estate, and quality is not much above another's, thou shalt do ill, if in acting a Cavallero, and a Lord, thou shalt labour to be vainglorious, in undervaluing him, skruing thanks from him by far fetched speeches, saying, my Lord, such an one, will do this very well: and some there are that will go farther, making their voice to be heard: and confident to gain it, if they can make it pass, like a guilded Pill, with such words as these; my Lord do this for love of me, and sometimes with a feigned laughter, and giving them a clap on the shoulder, entreat them they will sing by turn, saying by the faith of an honest man, you have taken me much, and all these are but stratagems of vainglory.  
2. Some also are so studious in these Ceremonies, that they have found out a way, to distinguish between thou, and you: and her, and she, and your worship, making six degrees of Courtship, so that no Nation did ever advance so far, for if we mark it, the French make use of ●os, or you, to all degrees, and qualities. And I cannot now treat of all that might be said from the title of worshipful above said, nor of the greater titles, for this would draw us into a great labyrinth. It sufficeth that though (heretofore) there were a great deal: yet now the ordinary sort or common people have raised it and filled it up with the titles of the Nobility: and that with such might and combination, that the Gentry, and Nobility, magnificoes, and grandes, that used to have these titles, are now robbed of them, and banished from their ancient Country, and Nation. And so, the noble cavalleres, and people of quality, seeing this, have profited so far, as to advance a degree, or two higher, then ordinary, to be distinguished (especially in their letters) from this generation, that robs them of their titles.  
3. I will here tell you what happened, (to this purpose,) to a Gentleman that was a Courtier, who writing a Letter to a private man, with the title of most magnificent Lord, which was the title that belonged to himself, according to his condition, he answered him, that he thought it no Courtship, to put such a title upon him. To which the Courtier replying, in his Letter, he left a blank for his Compliment, saying, Sir write (your self) that Compliment, in the void place, in my Letter, that likes you best, for which purpose I have sent it blank unto you subscribed with my Name.  
4. There are some others that to show themselves humble, paint themselves out for fools, and seek to show so much extremity of good behaviour, that you can perceive little understanding in them, and though they speak many tongues, yet are they never the wiser, nor can give any content with them: like one that was newly married, that writ to his Wife a Letter of many concepts, and concluded, placing for his Compliment, at the foot of his Letter, such an one the meanest Husband of your Ladyship kisseth your hands.  
5. Some others there are that by mere carelessness, make greater faults in writing, and give either two or three titles more, (whether they be right or wrong) then is needful, especially when they need any thing, and call them most illustrious, most renonced, etc.   

Of the Title Serenissimo.  
This is an appellation belonging unto Princes. Except when it is sometime used in sport; As a Cavallere did, who because his son walked in the night, called him Serenissimo: and being asked the reason, made answer, that being such a lover of the evening dews (which are called in Spanish Sereno) there had so much of this Sereno, (by this time) fallen upon his head: that he could not be now called, less than Serenissimo. This Title of Serenissimo, was no less offensive, to a certain Citizen; whom a Lord governor of estate, whom all called Serenissimo, had much vexed. It fell out, that as he was one evening talking with some of his friends, concerning the troubles, the Governor had put him to, they bidding that he should go out of the dew, that was falling (which in Spanish they call Sereno) because it would do him hurt, answered, Sirs you say true, if then the Sereno, will do me hurt, what think you the Serenissimo will do.  
6. Returning now to our purpose. I say, that even as the ceremonies, which are in extremities, are to be avoided, so ought we not, (on the contrary) so wholly to omit them, that we should return to the old custom, for it will show very ill, to do like some rustic people, who would have, that those who write to Kings, and great Lords, should begin in this manner, if thou and thy son be well, it is well, I am also in good health: affirming, that in such manner, the Latin Philosophers, did begin their Letters, which they usually writ from Rome.  
7. We must then know, and observe, some instructions, and rules, that we may not err in such things, as these: and first, we must consider the Country wherein we live: for every custom, is not alike good in every place. For we may speak in that manner in Italy, as (perchance) the Neapolitans do use to do, whose City is full of men of quality, and of great estate, which notwithstanding, will not suit well, with the Luqueses, and Florentines, who are (for the most part) merchants, and mean men, and having no Princes, marquess', nor Barons amongst them, and although the Venetian Gentlemen, use much courtesy, one to another, and flatter one another, by reason of their offices, yet will it not show well that the common people of Ro●igo, and the Citizens of Assoli should observe this solemnity, to give such respect one to another, upon all occasions. For this is the custom of the Seignory of Venice: and every one doth in conclusion, of his own accord, follow the steps of his Lord, and ancient Country, although he knoweth no reason wherefore.  
We ought also in Spain, no less to consider of this solemnity, yet with this caution, that amongst the common people, and poor places, that consist most of labouring people, it is not fit to observe the same style, in our ceremonies, which is used in the great assemblies, especially in the King's Palace, which would be to strike the people with admiration. As they report of a Lord of quality, of this Kingdom, that held it for a custom, when he called for drink, if it were in the night, that five or six of his servants, should march before the Cup, with two lighted Torches; But as he did this in a poor village, a man that was but simple, that was there, when he saw them come towards him, bareheaded, and with such ceremony, he fell down on his Knees and began to adore the Cup, beating upon his breast, with great devotion. The Lord and they that were with him, bid him rise, And asked him why he did such reverence, who answered: that seeing them (so solemnly) perform this ceremony, he could not but kneel down, supposing, that they brought the holy Sacrament, or at least some sacred relics, and so the Lord was warned, by another man's ignorance, no more to use this ceremony, amongst such ordinary people.  
8. Moreover, we ought (as well) to regard the time, as also the age, and condition, of the person, to whom we use these ceremonies: as well as to consider the place, as also to consider our own age, and condition. And with poor and mean qualitied people, to be very brief in our expressions, or at the least to contract them somewhat and not to express them to the full, which is well done in the Court of Rome. But in some other places they are accounted very tedious, especially to those that have much business, who wast much time in them. Be covered sir saith the Judge, that is much perplexed, and is scanted of time, to dispatch his many businesses. And he makes answer to him, that speaks to him, (after all his cringes, and scrapes,) (with much gravity) in this manner, my Lord I was very well before. And the other addressing himself, to press the Judge, that is all this time was covered wreathing his body, first on one side, then on the other, and crouching even to the ground, with much vanity, and ostentation, makes this answer. I beseech you permit me, thus to do my duty to you, for I am obliged unto it, and this combat lasts so long, and so much of the stock of time is wasted, that there is scarce left any time for business. So that those that visit Judges, and Ministers of public offices, that are entangled in government, should use brevity, cutting off all Compliments, and Ceremonies, especially if they be Lords, or persons of quality, to whom we cannot speak so freely, as to others, who are at leisure and void of business. But it often falls out, that poor suitors, must long wait their turns, before their businesses can be heard, waiting at distance, numbering the words spoken, and with a desire they may be seen, stand observing the impertinencies, and mean while cursing them a thousand times, for anger to see how they spend the time, and make them lose their meetings; and so are forced to return home, disconslate, and with loss of their labours. And some there are so dull, and so incircumspect, that they cannot perceive the signs, that they might take notice of in such officers, whom they thus keep from business, that they are troublesome to them: as in observing, how carelessly they answer their questions, and that they make no apologies to them, or give them that applause, which they would give them, if they did much relish them, or were at leisure. And if (perchance) they tell them, that they must give them leave to finish their businesses in hand, (Though they speak this to them, very civility, and plainlly) they go from them grumbling, saying that they are grown proud of their offices, and have buried all friendship, and do show themselves, to be harsh and ill conditioned men.  
9 Nor do such ceremonies, be fit young men, which old and grave men may use: nor must mean, and poor people, use such ceremonies, one to another, as Lords, and people of great quality, do use. And therefore, virtuous, and well bred persons, do strive to avoid them, as (much as may be,) as being distasteful: for spending all their time, and studies in such vanities. Neither ought officers, of mechanic offices, or persons of mean condition, to use solemn ceremonies, with Lords, and people of great quality: but aught to approach to, and answer with humility, and plainness, unto that, wherein the Lord hath occasion to use them in, for there seems more obedience than honour to be required from such men's hands. And therefore, that servant was in an error, that offered his service to his Lord, when as it was his duty, to be always ready, at his command, nor is it fitting, when a Lord stands bareheaded, for thee to bid him be covered: nor if he be standing or walking, within doors, is it fit for thee to be so bold, as to go abroad or to sit down, although he bid thee: if thou be of a meaner condition, than he. But when a great Lord, is pleased to set thee above him, to do thee honour, thou must not be so bold, to refuse the favour he doth thee.  
10. Now I say, that amongst persons of equal rank or who are but a little distinguished, in their persons, or places: this manner of good compliment, and good carriage, may be used more freely, because, (oftentimes) that which we do to perform our duty, is received as due and little honour is of us given unto him that deserves it, therefore he that doth a little exceed in that which he istyed to do, seems to bestow a gift more than can be challenged, and doth gain love thereby and is accounted free-minded and liberal. And so was a certain grave Graecian wont to say, that he that knows, how to converse with, & to endear great men, drives a great trade: and therefore those that are pleased in Courtship, do (at this day) use thus to speak. My Lord such an one, when he speaks to his friends, that are better than himself, but especially when they talk with Ladies, that are married, or with the Daughters of their equals, they will say my Lady, and this way make they themselves acceptable, and gain the good will of all.  
11. Thou must then use ceremonies, as a good Tailor doth his cloth, which he cuts out to make garments that makes them rather too long and too large, then too short, and scanty, but he makes them not so big, that in cutting out a pair of Breeches, you may mistake them for a Sack, or a Cloak-bag. And if thou shalt use a little tolerable largeness in thy ceremonies, towards them that are somewhat meaner than thyself, thou mayst be accounted courteous, but much more, if the person be somewhat better than thyself, thou shalt be held for a well fashioned and pleasing Gentleman. But he that shall extend them in an unreasonable sort, shall but make sport with them, and be accounted for a vain fellow: and this is the manner of ceremony which we formerly spoke of, which proceeds from our own will, and not from custom, but naturally we may pass our lives without ceremonies, and in them we may plainly see, that all that is not in use, is superfluous, and of those which are received by custom, we may say, that they are lawful jests or lies, and we may also call them vanities, and to noble minds, that are not pleased with such arrant vanities, it is an odious, and unpleasing thing, to deal in them. Therefore great ones ought to be more honoured, by their own works, then by an others words.  
12. It is storied to this purpose, that a certain King, called Edipo, being banished his Country, put himself under the protection, of King Theosio in Athens, to free himself from the fury, of his persecuting enemies: and being brought before Theosio, he heard a young daughter of his speak, who knowing her by her voice only, (he being blind for age) did not address himself to salute Theosio, but overcome with the affection of a Father, went presently to make much of his daughter, and having a little remained so doing, he besought Theosio to excuse him, and besought his pardon for his neglect. The good, and wise King, forbore not to answer him, but said unto him, be of good cheer, Edipo, for I honour not my life, with other men's words, but with mine own actions. A saying befitting a wise man, and one, that esteemed not fawning, and flattery. Wherefore the flatterer shows plainly, that he that is pleased with his flattery, is vain, and arrogant, simple, and of little understanding, by suffering himself to be overcome, & vanquished by so light a thing. And vain and superfluous ceremonies, are plain and known flatteries, so that they that speak, and use them, for profits sake (besides that they be so bad in themselves, having their Foundations in false, and forged words) they remain troublesome, and distasteful, for being so opposite to all truth.  
13. There are others, besides these, which also consist in feigned actions, and mere appearances, so that whatsoever they make aparent to you, is a lie, and although their adorning seem natural, yet in itself it is not so, but only to delude the sight: as those that being lean make themselves seem fat, and being low, to seem very tall. This is the fault we now see, for the most part to be in women, who do, if not all, yet the most of them thus dissemble. This made a Traveller say, that in Spain (almost) all the women, were tall, fair, and ruddy, either by nature, or by art. Some others have said, that the Spaniard lay all their grounds, or principles, in bare Compliments, and appearances. Therefore, if (by chance) they give thee, a fair good complexioned, and well proportioned wife, yet will she prove no more than half a Wife and without any hair, so that at the wedding night, it may be perceived, that half of her was made of guilded cork, and though they put her into the bed, yet the other part of the woman which is without the sheets will be found in the morning tawny, yellow, bald, and ill complexioned, and so is he thus cozened in half of his Wife. But they will say, she was seen, as she was, and that she hath found herself deceived, having discovered, far more defects in her Husband, than was in herself: that he was far less, and black, than she took him for. As I have heard tell of one such as these who having married herself for advancement and for covetousness of her Husband's wealth, observed, when her Husband went to bed, that he pulled off a counterfeit Nose he wore, and a glove wherewith he fastened on an artificial hand, and last of all, putting his hand to his mouth, pulled out thence a set of artificial Teeth, and so in this pastime, of her disorderly covetousness, both the lovers remained discontented.  
14. But to return to our purpose, there is yet another sort of ceremonious people, that make an Art, and trade of it, and keep a Book of account of their ceremonies namely when you speak to such manner of persons, how your Compliment must be passed, or your ground traversed, with a little closing of the eyes, and the head a little cast down; And when you speak to such an one, you must speak smilingly, a little also bowing your head, And how these of greatest quality, must be placed, in a Chair with Arms, and he that is of a little meaner rank, in plain back-chayre, and inferiors upon a bench, although it be true, that such a punctual distinction, of giving honour as this, is accounted very offensive, and therefore, none ought to be Judge, to determine, who is more and who less noble than another.  
15. As little fitting is it, that ceremonies, or endearments, be sold to any to pay with them the debts we owe unto them, as some Lords do with their servants, or inferiors to whom they owe money, whom they pay with ceremonies, giving them leave to stand covered before then, paying them the wages they owe them, with familiarity, and favour. By this we may well presume, that those who take pleasure, in using these outward ceremonies, do it for pomp, and vanity, if they exceed the common use, and manner used in them.  
16. There are others also that are so fruitlessly ceremonious, that without speaking any thing of substance, do never leave talking, and that very idly, and yet with much Courtship, and so much, that it is an obligation, for them to excuse you from hearing them, of these spoke he that summed up the life of Mithridato the Court babbler in these verses.  
That day he's placed by your side,  
He makes you melt with scorching heat  
Of the sharp torment you abide,  
In hearing of his carriage neat.  
17. These then, place all their diligence, and thought, to order their clappering tongues, and tediousness of such their impertinencies: hammering the people, (as it were) with their words: with which by reason of their education they can make a reasonable show or flourish; But in grave matters, or things of moment, they can show no wit: and they labour that all their converse be spent, in outward appearances. And if any discourse of good judgement be moved, they nor relish, nor understand it. And of these impertinent men, there are an infinite number, that at first sight deceive men, and at the second do tyre them, for than is their silliness discovered.  
18. One of these Mitridatoes was ushering a Lady, and being to go through a narrow passage, he stood urging her, that she would go first, thinking it to be good manners for him so to do. The Lady made a stop, desiring him to go first, because it was his place, who a while refused it, but at last he went on: saying, I had rather be thought ignorant then to be too troublesome. To whom the Lady readily retorted thus: go Sir, for both ways you may rightly challenge the first place, and so she answered him as he well deserved.  
19 And to conclude this matter of ceremonies, I say there are some others, that are always full of complemental words, and courteous deeds, thereby to supply the defect of their small means, supposing, that because there is little substance or profit in their deeds, (if they should also want words and compliments) no body would ever endure them, by reason whereof, they so much exceed in superfluous ceremonies, that (generally) they weary those that have good judgements: but for all this, every one desires to live, according to his own pleasure, namely with liberty; which is more esteemed of, than any other thing whatsoever.    

CHAPTER. 10. Of affected words, That in our common talk, we ought not to use Latin, or other words of another tongue.  
1. AFfectation, and extremes ought to be avoided, in our carriage, and ceremonies, and much more, in our words: and especially ought every one, to beware, of mixing Latin, or other strange words, in our discourse, though they be not Latin, to those that understand them not, into this error do they much fall into that having a little studied the Grammar, thrust Latin words, into all their discourses, but so improperly, that they disagree much from the propriety of our Castilian Language, and they sound so ill, that there are none doth respect them: and men of good judgements do but laugh at them, and make but a pastime thereof. One being in company with many others, asked this question of one of them, did you (Sir) observe the last Eclipse, me thought it continued long (using the Latin word Mora, for continuance, or tarrying: which in the Spanish tongue signify, a Mulberry) The other in way of merriment answered him in the same manner. I observed no Mora meaning the Mulberry, for by applying this medicine they use to cure Adahalas of his headache.  
2. Much like to this, I have known some use solemnly some words, spoken (as they thought) very elegantly, which did only satisfy those that used them, but the hearers of them do but jeer and make a sport at them,  

Of those who instead of speaking elegantly do speak nonsense.  
To this purpose a certain beneficed man, in a Village, that took upon him to be very elegant, inviting to dinner to him two students of his acquaintance, which at that time were passing by, spoke to them in this manner, Gentlemen, it were good that for the present we Decapitate Choler. For I greatly desire a scindill with so good society. To whom, one of them answered; beneficed Sir, you have in conceit spoken very elegantly, and with this answer he was much pleased, and satisfied for his eloquence.  
3. Like to this, I will tell you here a jest (that fell out in Alcala) of a certain Doctor, And though some say, to excuse him, it was spoken of him but in jest and mirth (as we use to do) yet it is true it so befell him. And thus it was, As he stood looking upon a Map of the World, which was drawn in a great round figure, A Nurse that dwelled with him, came to him, and said, good Sir what is that, that is so round? He answered her, sister, you must know, that it is the Orb, which is also called though Planisphere, the card of the World, or the Globe. If you understand none of these terms, then know that it is the whole World. But she with more curiosity, being much astonished, that she had seen the whole World, asked him, but good Sir, where is the place where I now stand? The Doctor answered, here you see it inclusively: if not, behold it here intensively, what cannot be expressed extensively, and to conclude, you may see it here virtually, and so the Nurse was as wise as before, and the Doctor as ignorant to express his meaning, in the Castilian Language.  
4. He was also a bold Rhetorician, who when he should have said, I cannot enlarge myself: because I want ink; said, I end because my horny vessel furnisheth not my Goose-quill, with Ethiopian liquor: True it is, that this mingling of Latin words, is wont to be (sometimes,) for necessity sake, As it fell out to a Spaniard whom I knew, who by remaining in Flaunders from a youth in the University of Louvain, and living there till he was old, and not being able neither to speak good Latin, nor good Castilian, nor Greek, nor good French, did one day amongst many other pleasing medlyes, which he spoke, instead of saying, No veys La gente de guerra come viene assentar so real entre las matas de los Escobares, Said in this manner, Ola no veys los Armigeros y Catafractos como se vienen a castramentar entre las miricas. Therefore we must take great heed that when we speak Castilian, we do not speak Latin, as a Monk who instead of saying, that they should make him a Picture of S. Peter, repenting, for denying his master: said thus, Sir such a one I entreat you, that you paint me a very good Flevit Amare which is in English, he wept bitterly. As ill shows it, on the contrary, if when we are to speak Latin, we mix Castilian, as a mass Priest did, in certain Prayers, who when he was to go out singing in Latin Ecce lumen Christi (in English, behold the light of Christ) were it that he could not hit on it in Latin, or he had forgotten what to say, went forth, holding the Candle aloft, and singing, behold this burning Taper, in Spanish y Aqui el cirio encendido. Let these few examples admonish us, to avoid improper, and affected words, which are not suitable, to the matter in hand, always considering the time, place, and occasion, and those that hear us, that we may not err, nor give them occasion, to say any thing against us.    

CHAPTER 11. Of Amplifications.  
1. No less than affectations are wont to be ill taken, are Amplifications ill accepted of and hard to gain credit, and in our common discourse, aught to be omitted, and left to Poets, & makers of Fables. There are some, that do so amplify, and enlarge themselves, in their words and dealings, that they are accounted happy who are in favour with them, for they will extol them to the Clouds, as in like manner, those that are out of favour with them, shall be extremely vilifyed by their tongues. And so, they run altogether in extremes, with great hazard of their own credits, as you may perceive, when I have told you, what I myself have heard from one of them, at a certain meeting: where dilating upon the beauty of a Lady there, he said that she was so wonderful fair, that not to disparage the other beauties of the Nation, they were not worthy of her presence, or company, nor to live in the same street, she dwelled in; And that her confessor, had charged her, to go to mass either very early in the morning, or else close vailed, that she might not discompose the people, with her presence. And a Painter that was to draw her Picture, did confess, and report, that her beauty was so admirable, that he was in despair ever to be able to represent any likeness or shadow of it. Such as these do transport the people with their enlargements, but they usually receive this pay for their pains, that be the thing as fair as it will that they magnify, it seems not so (when it is seen) as they have set it forth to be, and they are accounted for busy men, and of little worth.  

That we ought as little to speak ill of any, nor ought our jesting, and jeers to be biting.  
2. We must as little (in our conversation) speak ill of any, nor of his family, (Though we think that those that hear us, are pleased therewith, and are willing to hearken to us.) which vice usually happens, by means of the envy which (for the most part,) we bear, to one another's wealth, and honour, but at last let every one beware of the kicking Horse. And therefore understanding persons do fly from ill tongues, considering, that they that will tell us such things, of others, will tell others as much of us: and as it is said, fly from him, that reporteth such novelties, for he is the man that invented them; and those that oppose contradict, and withstand all manner of discourse they meet with, give a testimony that they do not well understand the nature of men, and that every one loves to conquer, and hates to be overcome, no less in words then in works: how much more for one man (voluntarily) to oppose and contradict another, is it accounted a work of envy, and not of friendship? Therefore he that desires to be pleasing in his carriage, and converse: ought not to be so armed always in his discourse as to say, this you said was not so: but as I tell it you: nor ought we to lay wagers of it, but in trivial things, we ought to bend ourselves, to incline to other men's opinions, for the victory in such things proves but our loss: for it is very true, that by gaining the Conquest, in a frivolous question, and a matter of no value, we oftentimes displease a dear friend.   

Of domineerers and confident people.  
And these Domineerers are so offensive to all people, that they dare not converse with them: for fear of falling every hour into wranglings, without profit, even to be at daggers drawing; But if (at any time) it fall out, that any be drawn on to dispute, he must do it in a mild fashion, and must not lash out with delight to overcome: or seek to order all the matter, and to have all the honour, attributed to himself: but he must leave every body his share: and in contending whether it be reason, or not, that every one allegeth, he must leave it to the judgement of the most, and if there shall be any excessively confident: let him leave the matter to them, quitting the plain field, for them to contend, to sweat and toil themselves. For these are manners hateful to men that are modest and of good behaviour. Besides this, we cannot get the victory without hatred, and envy; And because for the most part all people by nature, seek to attribute glory to themselves, and do undervalue and dispraise other men's opinions, that they may every one show himself wise, valiant and of much understanding, therefore it falls out that many do advise, reprehend, dispute, and defend themselves, with Rapier, and Poniard, as they say, against all men, and will incline themselves to no man's opinion, but stand to their own: and are so blind, and obstinate in their own way, that no reason is forcible enough, to alter them from it: and though these do not find fault with the opinion of their friends, yet will they not leave their own errors.   

Fortune-tellers.  
3. There are others, that if you fall into discourse with them, at that time when you come into their company to refresh yourself, from your labours, can never get out from some lamentable discourse, and misfortunes, and ill presages, that threaten the people, for the time to come: and when they hear of any victory, or good success, they spoil all, with the love they bear to ill omens, and their own only opinions, which do with mere fancy, and vain glory, make themselves melancholy. Supposing by this their unsavoury humour, the more to give credit, to their foolish condition; and some, to whom, and their years rest, and quiet is due, yet do nothing but talk lamentably, never altering their discourse, saying that in their days, the men were more valiant, and not as they are now, that there is not a man left worth a Button, and the like.  
4. It is also blame worthy, and that with great reason, for any, that is in company with others, to whisper; so that all cannot hear what he saith, but especially for two, or three, to separate themselves, from the rest, and to stand laughing, and looking upon the rest, or to desire to be covered, or muffled when the rest are not, for this is after a sort a betraying of him of whom we speak, and in all reason they must offend many, that use it: especially any one that is suspicious or jealous.  
There are others, of such a condition, that if they be not talking, they stand in such a study, that never regarding what they do, they have their eyes fixed upon another, laughing at their own phansyes, and never thinking of him they look upon, and thence must necessarily arise suspicion, as an Author saith.  
If any look me in the face,  
Yet minds some other thing▪  
He seems in giving that the place,  
Me with contempt to sting.  
5. They must then be admonished that are in public, and in company, that they be not so careless, that they stand with fixed eyes, on any side, and be wholly taken up with their own thoughts.  
6. Nor is it fit, that when we are in such company, we should draw out a book, or to settle ourselves to read to ourselves to pass away the time, though we take as much pleasure in reading, as one Collegiall Trilingue of Alcala did, That did verify he took so much pleasure in reading of Marshal, that being desired to go to Gadalajaca (four leagues off) he put on his Gown he used to wear in his House, and bid them saddle Marshal for him, and with that he went, reading step by step, never thinking on the wearisomeness of the way.   

Of those that are always giving counsel.  
7. Thou mayst not offer thy advice to him, that requires it not, for that ●s nothing else, but to show thyself wiser than him to whom thou givest thy advice, and to cast his little understanding in his teeth; and to account him for an ignorant man, therefore no acquaintance may enboulden thee to do this to another, except they be also our very intimate friends, or be such, that we have the tuition of or that we do see them in any apparent danger, whom we thus counsel or give advise unto. But in our ordinary dealing, a man ought to abstain from counselling much. Into which error many do fall, but more often, those that know little themselves, for to men of gross understandings, few things come into their heads, that others have need of. And (certainly) there are some, that so much esteem of their own knowledge, that if others do not follow their opinion, they are offended, and complain of those that refuse it, as if they should say. It is well, a poor man's advice cannot be admitted, such an one, will do as he listeth, and will not hear me: and other things of this nature, and to this tune. As if pretending another aught to obey thy counsel, were not a greater arrogancy, then for thee to follow thine own mind.  
8. A like fault are they guilty of, that find fault with other men's imperfections, giving a definitive sentence, touching every thing; and prescribing Rules, and Laws, to every one, whosoever he be. This ought not to be, as for example, to speak thus, You spoke so, but it was not well spoken, take heed of sleeping at such an hour: the Wine you drunk is not good for you, you should drink Claret, you should use such a kind of bath, and not such as you do: and thus are they always reproving, and are like those that are always weeding another man's Garden, and never consider, that their own is overgrown with Nettles, and Brambles: and therefore we should leave this work, to Fathers and Masters.   

Of contemning others.  
9 We ought not to despise any body, nor to set light by him, though he be our enemy, for it is a greater sign of disgrace, to deride one, then to do him a shrewd turn, for of him that we do an injury to, we make some reckoning: but him that we despise we make far less esteem of, yea often none at all, therefore to scorn, or deride, is a pleasure we take to shame another, without any profit at all to ourselves. And therefore in our common converse, and dealings with men, those that would be curious, aught to forbear, to flout any body: and therefore they do ill, that are ever sifting out, and retorting other men's defects upon them, (although they have such faults) for this is not a good way, to rid them of them, and understanding and well fashioned persons, do avoid such a reprocher as they would the Devil: but there are some, that when they cannot give ill language will grumble, and inveigh against the defects of others, by often smiling, and other exterior acts: and sometimes, they make jests, and solace themselves and make sport with the imperfections and miseries of others, whereas they should rather mourn, and grieve for them. It may well be, (as a certain Courtier was wont to say) that the sharpness of the tongue, may relish well, and please the appetite much, in mens acceptance thereof, yet this tartness must not be done to endanger or much disturb the sweet love, and friendship, which is maintained without any hazard on either side: So than the jeer which any receaves from thee must be light, that he who receaves it may without shame be excused. And although these jeers and quips of wit be but a laughing, and jesting at the faults, and oversights of him that receives them, yet for all this, they are esteemed, and liked in him that knows how to speak them, well, because we know his intention to be very far from wronging of any thereby. And therefore without doubt, those that can talk merrily, yet in a friendly manner, and without prejudice: are better liked then those that know not how to do it, and are received with open Arms, and esteemed, and regarded of all men. As on the contrary they are ill thought of, that seek to follow this vain without all discretion, not observing any Rules or good manners therein, and therefore, he that will do this, must be a very able man, for he must take many things into his consideration. But in effect (as I have said) this jeering is but to make sport with the defects, and errors of those that we ought to love and respect.   

Of those that take offence at words.  
10. On the other side, jests can hardly be distinguished, from wrongs, especially by some persons, who are so captious, that they take all jests, and quips, for affronts, and are so unsavoury, and so void of understanding, that instead of being pleased, or delighted therewith, they grow into choler, so that none can jest or meddle with them: And there are some, that suppose you should bear with their necessities and troublesomeness, and if you say any thing to them, how slight so ever it be: they are of such a disposition, that they are presently off of the hooks, and are so offensively disquiet, that although they are (sometimes) quickly appeased, yet during that small time, that their foolish anger doth last, they may infect others, with such an humour, that may be their destruction. But what will it be, if they be headstrong, and that their displeasure do not depart, but that they sleep with it, and they dissemble their intentions, and wounded mind, with cheerful countenances: we can say no more of these, but this, that (if we fall into merriment,) we must sow a Hose about their Legs, as we use to do to Chickens, that we may know them a far off. To this purpose Doctor Villabos, the great Physician, as it is related in a certain very pleasing Dialogue of his, having put a jest upon another Physician, in the presence of the King, he grew in choler, and to be revenged spoke thus to the King. Your Majesty may understand, that I value myself more, for that I am a Physician, then to be accounted a merry companion, or a jester, To whom Vilabos answered, Signior Doctor makes me to be very simple; for he is so great a master, that he cannot be counted a witty companion, which answer being so readily given, was well taken, and the other received the pay he deserved. And it so falls out, that he who is jeered, but in mirth, and in a friendly manner, doth often, by inconsiderateness, take it for an affront and a disgrace. And although it be so, that quips and jeers are many times well taken, yet will not I counsel a civil Gentleman, to addict himself much unto them. Nor ought he to occasion them often to be spoken, nor at all times, and upon all occasions. For jests well scanned, are nothing else, but bold, and subtle deceits. And therefore we should leave the perpetual making of jests, to those that live by them. Who though they jeer never so much, can prejudice none by it, but if they do it wittyly are to be rewarded for it. But when a brave Gentleman speaks any thing sharply, he is to consider that every one is offended with him, that telleth him of his fault or error. Therefore, for many reasons it seems that he that desires to be well esteemed, should not make himself a master of jests, much less to esteem himself for his ability, in being Satirical, and scandalous: like those that are full of censuring, although they be very witty, and pleasing in it, nor let them take such jollity in it as to lose a friend thereby. But especially it is worthy blame to make a jeer of the natural defects of any one.   

That jests should not be spoken to prejudice any body.  
Although it hath been seen in this case, that those who ought to have been silent in a matter, and yet have spoken it to another, have been answered sharply, as it was in that which they tell, that an one-eyed fellow said to a fellow with a Hog-back, who to call him crooke-back said thus; Companion, thou hast carried that burden, ever since the morning, to whom he answered, surely that hath not been long, for it is but very early days yet, for you have opened but one of your windows, so that each of them, jeered the other, with the imperfection that nature had marked them with. But satirical speeches pierce deeper when they touch upon our descent, or honour, like that which one that was newly converted to Christianity did speak to another by a jeer, to decipher him out, which other seeing the Christian being a Cavalleere, sit very back upon his Horse, said to him, companion, why do you get up so back upon your Horse buttocks? to whom he answered, if I get up so back, it is because I would not gall him, with the Cruz, and so was he revenged on him by jeering him for being a jew. And so stopped his forward boldness. Touching this matter, I say: that if our acuteness, and hability do vent itself, in such prejudicial sayings, it were better we should never use it, for it cannot be done with a safe conscience, but where a man may speak of things without hurt, to our neighbour, and with discretion, and judgement. It is true, that to pass this troublesome life, we may use some solace and pastime, and that jests and quips are wont to be used, as instruments to move laughter, and to recreate us withal, and therefore, they are loved, that can move mirth and speak wittily, without offending any body, and there are very few that know how to do this: therefore there are many things to be considered, that we fall not into disfavour. And it falls out, that that, which useth to please, and gain the favour of some, may displease, and lose the favour of others; And commonly where laughter hath no place, & to be pleasant pleaseth not, there to Jest or Jibe any body, is not acceptable, for there is no worse jest than truth.  
11. By which you may know, that there are some words which by't, and do prejudice, and there are others that do not. Of the first I shall not need to say much: one wise comparision, that a certain Italian Lady, called Lawreras once spoke shall suffice: Jests, saith she, must bite those they are given unto; like a Lamb, and not like a Dog; for if they by't like a dog, they are not jests, but villainy and wrong; and as (by the Law) he is punished that abuseth another in words, so ought he to be, that by his jests, speaks bitterly and disgracefully of his neighbour: for which reason, discreet and well behaved men ought to consider, that the same Law that takes order against wrongs, doth also take order against biting jests; and therefore, when men jest, they must prick but lightly.  
12. It is likewise to be understood, that a jest sometimes biteth, and sometimes not, and if it be not witty and pleasant, there is no delight taken in it by those that hear it, but proves lukewarm, & grows cold and frozen; and if peradventure they laugh, it is not at the jest, but at the silliness of the jester; and because jests are nothing but frauds, and spoken to beguile; and as it is an artificial thing, so it cannot be done, but by persons of a sharp wit, (especially upon a sudden) and therefore it suits ill with dull men and those that have a gross fancy, except it be, when speaking by chance in such their simplicity, they utter words worth laughing at, which then takes the more, because he breaks the jest naturally and unawares, & not by witty and feigned art. As a certain labourer did who being asked by certain Citizens why he came to them, looked steadfastly upon one of them, that had a thick black beard, and said, I come to sell a Pig, with reverence to the venerable beard of this Gentleman. But why quoth the Citizen do you ask pardon of me more than of the rest? he replied (simply and without malice) because your worship's beard is so thick and bushy that it resembles a Hog's foot before it is scalded. The said Citizen could do no less than laugh with the rest, for company, though he were somewhat angry at the Jest. Another Biscanoys that was sent for to buy a Pullet bought a Cock, supposing he had done well, because the Cock was bigger than a Pullet: and of this sort, there are infinite Jests, that are merely natural, and without any malice. But all that have good wits, know not how to Jest, for it is a peculiar gift, and readiness of wit, that all cannot attain unto, therefore discreet men, understand themselves better, then to think to do it at their pleasure, but are contented, with the talon, and disposition, they are endued withal.   

Of those that make jests and know not of it.  
And when such men, have once or oftener made trial of the strength of their wits in vain: they do find that they have no faculty that way, and do forbear to busy themselves, in exercising it, for it is a certain faculty, that few are excellent in. Some have this property, that no word can pass, but they have a jest, or witty saying, ready to pass upon it. And you must know, that another cannot relate, nor put in writing the jests that another invented, and uttered, with such grace, and delight as the authors of them can, therefore. I hope I shall here be excused (in part,) if those that I here set down, for example's sake, do not give very good content to the Reader.   

Forms of Jests.  
13. And amongst the several ways of Jests, there is one very good, and pleasing, namely to make sport with a word that hath divers significations. As a Cavallere, that was travelling on the way, as he passed through a certain Village, he asked what place it was, and how they, called it; they answered it was called a Village, (which in the Spanish tongue, is called Caesar, which signifies also to marry) the Cavallere answered, in this Jest. Quien passa por el Caesar, por todo puede passar. That is, he that can pass through marriage, may pass all places.  
14. A certain ill favoured old woman, saying to a Lord of quality, of this Court, that she desired to marry, into Baldemoro, being the name of a Family in Spain, he answered her thus, Madam, in all Ethiopia called in Spain Baldemoro, you cannot meet with any so ugly that will have you.  
15. Also in like manner did a gentleman of Valodolid make a Jest upon two words that had two contrary senses, though they had the same Letters. A certain ill favoured Lady had spoken very disdainfully of him, and had reported that she could not be persuaded, that any women thought well of men. He contrived as she came to walk on the bank of Esgueva which is a little stream, whereinto the people empty all their filth, to answer her with this Sonnet.  
In midst of Esgeve and the Flowers,  
Her pudly streams, Pisverga sent  
Where fresh, and new fruits grow all hours,  
Two Shepherds th' air with shrill notes rend.  
O Nymph whose love procures no flames,  
Whom one sole lover doth not woe.  
Being commandress of these streams,  
How can you pass with one or two?  
Leest thou on Bridge i'th' Ford, or Boat,  
Seated among such Flowers sweet,  
Pouring clear liquor down thy throat,  
Must needs be thought for thee unmeete.  
That thou shouldst have no sutering swains  
That thrives by th' people's backward gains.  
16. To this purpose taking only the literal meaning, one Catedratico in Alcala, made a pleasing interpretation being to act a speech which was to begin in Castilian (as the manner is) spoke the preamble in Latin as follows, Amplissime rector, gravissimi Doctores, Nobilis iuventus: which is as much as to say, most bountiful Governor, most grave Doctors, Noble youth: but as he began in Latin, they gave many strokes with their Hands, and stamps with their Feet, in token that he should have spoken in Castilian, he was bold to bespeak them in this manner, saying, my Lords, your honours may perceive, that it sounds not so well in the Castilian tongue, as in the Latin, and seeing they continued to stamp the more, he began in the literal sense, in this form; magnificent Rector, most grave doctors, Noble youth, casting his eyes upon the Women, that sat in the windows, over against the Theatre, in which entrance, there was much pleasure taken, and wit, in interpreting the sound only, and so it was received for a Jest and a pleasing speech.  
17. Some desire to do this, but know not how: but speak words, that are frozen and without sense, which are taken very unsavorily. As for example, if you ask them, where such an one is, they will answer you, where his feet stands, or between the Sky and the ground. So that they speak in another manner, than was expected, and without any ingenuity at all, and with such frivolous answers, they lose the esteem, of understanding, and well spoken men. If happily they retain not the credit, that a certain poor man did (A credit of a different and more witty sense) who laying a wager with others, that he could have credit with the bankers, (or money lender's) for more than thirty thousand Ducats, and they ask him how it was possible, he being so poor, and decayed a man; He answered them thus. It is clear my Lords, that if I demand of any banker, in this manner, my Lord such an one, do you not believe that to be rich, and to purchase two thousand Ducats a year, and to have my House well furnished, that I have need of thirty thousand Ducats, do you not credit what I say? surely he will answer me, I speak great reason: and so will the rest of the bankers. Then according to this manner of credit, namely to be believed of them, I can now say, that I have credit of thirty thousand Ducats. And in this manner he proved his credit, taking the word in a different sense.  
18. Some others there are that are so settled in this way of Jibing, & Jesting, that you cannot know, when they speak in earnest, or when in Jest, and by the long continuance they have held, in speaking pleasantly, and disguisedly, when they are to speak truth, they are fain to use oaths, that they may be believed. And therefore that we be not brought to this pass, our earnest must be more than our Jesting.   

Heavy jeers.  
And if thou make any Jests for mirth sake, let them not be heavy, or bitter ones. As to take any thing from thy friend which may vex and trouble him, in looking for it, and may make him jealous of any thing or to walk about discontentedly. As little do I hold it good, to strike or scratch, or pinch men, in Jest: for from such Jesting, we have seen men fall to earnest.  
20. But because it is not our purpose, to dispute here, what may be accounted fitting or unfitting Jests, and Jeers, nor to urge more to any purpose, than what is needful, for the illustration of it: I omit many examples, which are extant, of witty sayings, and stories to that purpose.   

How you may know a good jest.  
21. It is sufficient to know that jests do carry with them, either a certain testimony of their pleasantness, and decency: or of their coldness and unpleasantness. And to know if a Jest be good, or bad, he cannot be mistaken, that observes this that follows: And it is this, that he that Jests, be not too confident of himself; for it is plainly seen, that when a Jest is good, and pleasing, the company is pleased at the very uttering it, applauding it with the laughter, and jollity they make at it: And when it is not liked of those that hear it, he that makes it, is offended, and avoids making any more, so that the defect being in truth his own, and not their fault that hears it, and so not being so approved, he is to rest convinced as by a definitive sentence, for he cannot appeal to himself.   

Of making a witty and ready answer.  
The knowing how to make a ready answer to any question, is no less requisite, then to know how to make a witty and pleasant Jest, or to speak acutely. And some there are, that are so ingenious, and endowed, with such a gift, that they will answer so quick, to a question, or so wittily apply a pleasant speech, to those that hear them, that you would think they had been studying long to bring it forth.  
23. They report of that famous Dantes, that some of his adversaries searching for him, when they could not know him by his Face, they sound him out, by his ready and acute answers he made, to all questions they asked of him: And so three of those that met with him, asked him three questions together to try if they could distract him, one asked him, Dove venite? the second, Dove de laqua? and the third, Quanti son di Luna? which is as much as to say, whence comest thou? whence comes the Water? how old is the Moon? who answered them all three, in three words, saying, Davilla, Aloulo, in quinta: from the City, from the Pitchers, five days old. And so was he discovered by his quickness.    

CHAPTER, 12. Of speaking set speeches.  
1. THere is another manner of giving entertainment, which consisteth in Knowledge how to speak, namely, when the pleasure thereof consisteth not in Jests, and witty sayings, which are commonly very short, but in speaking a continued speech, which ought to be done orderly, and with good expressions: so that he that shall speak knows how properly to represent, the manner and use, actions, and fashion of him he speaks of, so that he that hears him speak, thinks he even sees acted before him, the things which he relates unto him.  

To know how to speak well.  
2. And this Knowledge to speak well must consist, not in differencing or extreme altering the voice, nor in imitating of actors of Plays. But it is necessary for him that will speak well, to remember well the matter, story, or History, and to have ready and fitting words, that he may not speak from the purpose, As some use to do, after this manner. And so my Lords, as I said, and to the end, that such an one, or another what do you call him, help me pray, to name him: tell me his name, etc. All which are ill customs, and are offensive to an understanding audience. And if he repeat an accident, wherein were many names, he must not speak thus; such a one said thus, another spoke so, or such a one answered in this manner, for all of them may be said to be one or another. And he that hears it, may easily err, in not understanding of whom he speaks, and therefore, he that relates such a passage, must recite the names precisely, and therefore must take heed he forget them not.  
3. It falls out in like manner, that some are so careless, that they forget what they were speaking of, by suffering their thoughts to room upon other matters, so that they will ask you, what were we talking of, I have forgot what I was saying. This cannot be done, without blame to him that was thus discoursing: even as he that recites an oration or other speech, and never mindeth what he is doing. For it seems that he that is thus forgetful, doth little esteem the content of his Auditors.  
4. Besides this, a man must take heed, that he speak not superfluities, and things of no substance, or which make nothing to the matter in hand, As if when the auditors are waiting for the success of the story, he that relates it shall speak thus, such an one that was the son of such a man, that went many times, to such a Merchant's house, that was married to a lean Woman, that was called by such a name, did you not know her? how is it possible you should not? you had better been ignorant in another matter: A good old Woman, very straight, that had a very thick hair: and well combed, and such stuff as this. For if they make not much to the business, it is (at best) but to waste the time, for by it, they hinder the pleasure, which might otherwise be taken, in their discourse, and is of little benefit to them, that listen to them; But especially if they be urgent, and desirous, to know the close of the story; we ought not to punish them so much in circumlocutions, whereas all such their discourse tends to no more, then that such an one, was the son of Peter or of john.  
5. And a famous rhetorician, was of opinion, that in telling of Tales, or stories, if there must be a relation in them, of many things, in the first place we must order, and dispose of the names, and surnames, and after it shall be enough, only to repeat the Christian names, because they are given, according to the will of their Parents, and the surnames according to the quality and decency of the persons. And if the person be not very well known, in the place where we speak of him: we ought to frame our discourse, and story, as if the thing were done in another place: and to fit the names, as we please, that we may tell our stories, with relish, and without interruption, or making rubs, or pawses in them.   

To use propriety of words.  
By this means, those that hear us are the better moved to attention, and we remain satisfied, and they pleased, and this manner of speaking, is of such force, is so proper, and distinct, that (many times) it falls out, that it seems to please much, though in itself, it be not very pleasing, and so, that which in itself, hath much pleasure, may in like manner, be delivered so coldly, that all the mirth is spoiled thereby: and he discredited, that relateth it: And although good gestures, and the grace that a sweet voice affords, are necessary in this, and is of great effect. Yet for all this, he shall not be deficient, to please well, and to be understood in the dexterity, of the propriety he uses, by him that knows what belongs to write well, and in a good phrase.   

Of Comparisons.  
Examples, and Comparisons, must be apparent, because by them is presented to the phantasy, the thing compared, as if it were really beheld: and we ought not make Comparisons by talking or doing foolishly, As some who put in the dance of their story those that are their auditors, saying, doth your worship know who such an one is, the other came in this manner, and I shook him off thus, and in steed of Comparisons, they give them such thumps on the Arms, and so strike them with their tongues, that no body can avoid them. There are others that speak a thousand fooleries, instead of Comparisons, so improperly and so grossly, that they force men to laugh at them. As did a Priest in a certain Village, who to make some friends, and persuading them to love one another, and seek one another's good, said unto them, you love one another, not so much as my Mule, and Antonio, Madalenaes' Horse, who went together to the Pasture, and fed together and came home together again. But if two beasts keep company, and love so much, why do you not take example by them? So that for the propriety of that which is related, and compared, we find, that men give ear, with more delight to have that preseuted before their eyes, that is spoken of, and which falls out to persons we know: then that which befalls strangers whom we never saw. And the reason is, for that we know that such an one, of whom he speaks, was wont to do so, (having seen it as a thing present) so that that which is told of strangers, is not so well received or accepted of.  
6. The words also, in a continued speech, as well as in other discourses, must be clear, or plain, that every one of the company, may understand them easily, as well in the sense, or meaning, as in the sound, to be good, and beseeming: therefore if thou canst make thyself understood, by saying the mouth or the lips, it is not good for thee to say, the nose, and thou mayst better say, thy belly is full, than the guts are full, and if thou mayst be understood by saying, the belly is satisfied, it shall be better for thee to say so, then, the paunch is full.    

CHAPTER. 13. Of Novellaes and Tales.  
BEsides the things we have said, a Gentleman will be sure to tell a Tale, or story, that shall be such, that it shall not have in it, uncivil words, or obscene passages, or so beastly, that they make them loathe them that hear it, but such passages must be related by circumlocutions, and by civil, and honest ways of expression: not speaking them in plain terms, especially if Women be in the company, for than we should be more reserved, and the plot in such Tale, must be laid so neatly, and artificially, that the Auditors, may be fed with pleasure of it, until that the Auditors do at length remain fully satisfied, and out of doubt, with the close and conclusion of the story. And Tales and stories should be such, that besides the entertainment, and pleasure of them, there may be also drawn from them, good examples, and morals, as the ancient makers of Fables were wont to do, who spoke very artificially, (as we may read in their works) And in imitation of them, he that tells a story, a fable, or such like discourse, aught to provide, that he do not often repeat the same words, except necessity force him to it, (which is that which is called rambling.) And so, that he do not confound his auditors, or perplex their memories, he must labour to take away all obscurity, especially of many names. So that if in the story, there be no more, than one Prince, or one King, who is named in the beginning; it is then enough (afterwards) to say (only) the King, the Captain, the Doctor, etc. And because in all parts of this treatise, we labour to urge comparisons, and examples to the purpose, in this part which we are now upon, we will relate a story of which (it being very pleasing to some comical persons of good judgement) there was made a famous Tragicomedy. And because in this book, we would feed most palates with delight, he that shall not take pleasure in it, may skip over the story, (if it seem redious,) and may proceed, in the other matters of this Treatise.  

The tale of the great Sultan, and of the loves of the beautiful Axa and the Prince of Naples.  
In the Vast Country of Tersia, was a Sultan, that by his prowess, and valour, had conquered many Lands, who losing his sight by a mischance that befell him, was more sensible of the great loss thereof, in regard that he was thereby disabled to prosecute the designs he had begun, then for any other trouble it put him unto. He then calling together all the Physicians of his Kingdom, that they might apply medicines, to cure his infirmity: his vassals, (being desirous of the recovery of his sight) brought unto him, a famous Christian Physician, whom by misfortune, a Bassa had taken prisoner: in this man the Sultan had great confidence, to receive help, (he having already cured many of his vassals, of many dangerous infirmities) and so with large promises of wealth and freedom he put himself into his hands. The Physician, used the best practice he could, to recover his sight; but all humane means he could use, not sufficing, he excused himself to his Lord, beseeching him, that he would accept of his good will, and intention: but it was not accepted with the like mind. But the Sultan was jealous, that because he was a Christian, therefore he was regardless of his recovery: And commanded that they should put him into a Dungeon, and ordained, that if within eight days following, he prescribed not a sufficient medicine, to recover his sight, that he should be devoured of his Lions. The Physician, when he had been seven days in the Dungeon, and considering, how near death approached to him, determined to find out a way, how to prolong his life, by entertaining the Sultan with feigned hopes, and so desired, he might be (again) brought before him, that he might try another medicine upon him (When he came into his presence, after he had excused himself, that he had not all this time cured him,) he spoke thus unto him, That he had found out that there was one only cure for him, but that he must have patience, for a few days, wherein he must put off the cure (but it should not be long) till he might search out (with diligence) a young man of a noble race, valiant, of a pure complexion, fair, wise, and well esteemed of: for, with the blood, and heart of such a one, with the Powders, and Herbs, that he should add, he would recover his sight: and that they must (also) appoint him a place, to gather certain Herbs, for this purpose. The Sultan, approving his speech, gave him liberty, to walk (freely) up and down his Court, and possessed with this hope, he imparted his content, to the Suleanesse his Lady, and his beautiful Daughter, Axa, a Lady most famous, for her wonderful fairness, and worth. After the Sultan, dispatcheth some of his Basha●s, to divers Kingdoms, that they might find out a prisoner that might be fitting, for to make the medicine, to recover his sight promising great rewards, to him, that should perform this enterprise. It fell out, that as one of his Captains, touched with one of his galleys, at a port of the Kingdom of Naples, and had there been informed, that certain young Cavalleeres, were to pass that way a hunting, they lay in ambush to take them, at which very season it fortuned, that the Prince of Naples went also that way to hunt, who in the hard pursuing of his chase, was severed from his company: He was a young man of three and twenty years old, and endowed with all those qualities, the Christian Physician, had mentioned: who being assaulted by the infidels, although he defended himself like a valiant cavalleere, after he had slain some of them, and hurt many more, was nevertheless (at last) with much difficulty, taken, and put into the Galley, and carried to the great Sultan, and although they knew him not for a Prince, yet they guessed by him that he must be a Cavalleere of great quality; you may easily conceive, what sadness did possess the King, & Queen, of this Kingdom, this Prince's father, & all the subjects, for the loss of the Prince, and so leaving that, to its proper time, and place, we will now speak of his voyage, which was so prosperous, that in short time, they arrived in Persia, where he was presented to the Sultan, who much pleased therewith called for the Christian Doctor, to the end that, (this Cavalleere being such a man, as he had required to recover him withal) he might put his medicine in practice. The Physician, seeing himself thus cut off of his excuseand confounded in his plot, spoke to the Sultan in part after this manner. Great Sir, I cannot deny, but this young man, is a man fitting for the purpose to recover your sight: but he is now troubled, and his Spirits unquiet, and it his humours be not settled and his complexion reduced, to its due temper, his hart will not be useful, for our purpose, he must therefore repose himself, a few days, and a way be devised, how this captive may receive content, as by some vain hope of freedom, or such like means; The Sultan thought well of this, and told it his Wife, and his fair Daughter Axa, who offered him, (if he would employ them in this service,) to make him such offers, and promises of liberty, that he should presently be pleased, and contented. Which offer the Sultan accepted of them. Wherefore, afterwards, the Prince was brought to the lodging, of the Soldana (which was curiously seated, and had a passage from it, to the bank of a great River, which not far thence, disburdened itself, into the Ocean,) now he was employed for his greater grace, in serving the fair Axa, who of purpose, and by the command of her parents, made very much of him, and showed him, extra ordinary favour. In like manner the Doctor, had order, to enter (when he pleased) into the Chamber of the Empress, and the Princess, to observe, when the Christian should be at the height of his content: that he might give the Sultan notice, when it was a fit time to sacrifice him. The Prince seeing the good entertainment they gave him, could not imagine, why (on the sudden,) he should be thus cockered, but suspected, that they had discovered what he was. And he being indeed very pleasing, and a perfect Courtier, knew (so well) to give content, and to perform his service so readily, to his new Lady, the beautiful Axa, that the feigned, and purposely counterfeited observance, she made show of, was turned into a true and sincere love, and the Prince was the mean while no less taken with her beauty. Yet so warily, and secretly they both carried their loves, that when any beheld them, it seemed to be all in jest. The Doctor whose thoughts were not all this while idle, seeing what haste was made, devised a way, how he might escape from them. For it was resolved that the fifth day following, the Christian should be sacrificed, and so, he failing in his cure, should be devoured of the Lions. About the same time he went out one evening, into the Orchard, where the Soldana, and her Daughter, with the Christian, were also walking together, And as they walked, the Prince, and Princess went aside, and she laying her hand upon his shoulder, and looking wishly upon him, conjured him by the great love she bore him, to tell her, who he was, promising to keep it secret; who moved with much confidence of her love, and faith of her promise, and with the sweet words, this Lady gave him, told her the truth, that he was the Prince and only heir of Naples, beseeching her, by all means, not to discover him, for the great difficulty, he should thereby find, for his ransom. But as soon as she understood, what he was, and the danger he was in, she began to weep bitterly, yet for fear of her mother she dissembled it, as much as she was able: at this instant, the Soldana winked upon the Doctor, that he should come, and see if the Christian were in a good temper, showing him the great cunning her Daughter had used, to deceive him, and to bring him into good temper, and to make him to be well satisfied: and she in the while stood to behold, at some distance off, in the Orchard; But when the Doctor came to the place where the two Lovers were, the fair Axa begun secretly to curse him, and bade him, that he should take some course, that he did not perform, what he had agreed upon, but that he should cure her father another way: if not, that he was to know, that if he did, as he had proposed, though he should cure him, yet she would kill him, (but especially because she well perceived, that all was but subtlety, to prolong his life,) And turning to the Prince, she said, Ah Sir, it is now no time to conceal from you, what is determined concerning you, but that we presently study a remedy. And so she told him the sentence, that was given against him: and all the passages thereof, and in what manner his death was appointed (by the consent of this Doctor) but that he should not be troubled at it, for she would mark out a way, how he might free himself, which was, that they three, (as they were) must take their flight, in a little Bark, that was in the River, and so commend themselves to their good fortunes. And from thence, she vowed herself, to be a Christian, and desired him by the saith of a Husband, that he would take her, to his Kingdom, and accept her for the Princess thereof. And she declared unto them that by means of certain charms, that she had learned of her Mother, she would (next day) take order, to cast her Mother, and her women, into a sleep: that in the mean time, they three, might escape, with all her Father's treasure, of which she kept the Keys. The Prince, remained astonished, when he understood, what had passed, but much more, at the ready ability, of his Lady, and of the great love she had shown him. The plot pleased them exceeding well, but it not then being the time, to put this business, in execution, they agreed to do it, the next day, as soon as the Sultan had supped, and so they made the appointment, as the fair Axa had chalked it out. The next day, she conveyed herself into the Chamber, where her Father's treasure was, and there she took out of certain Chests, the best Jewels, and precious Stones he had, and took also much Gold thence to an incredible value, being indeed the greatest part of that the Sultan and his predecessors, had been gathering together for many years past, when this was done, she took order how to intercept a bark, one of the best on the River, by an excuse that she made, that herself, and her Mother, and some other Ladies, were to take their pleasure in it as at other times, they were wont to do. When night came, and supper was ended, the fair Axa, by means of the enchantments, and magic, she had knowledge in, put one in practice, which was to pitch a schedule of parchment written with Dragon's blood, and to stick it to the gown of the Soldana, which was no sooner done but she fell into adeepe sleep, and so dead it was, that she awaked not, till late the next day. Then she commanded all the Women to retire, and hid the Prince and Doctor, in the same Chamber, where the treasure was, and when she knew that they were all at rest, and that the Soldana could not be awaked, she went cheerfully to her Husband, and at last all three, helping one another, they put all this wealth, in Chests, and by little and little, put them into the Bark, and amongst other things, of great esteem; they had taken a sword, which (besides the richness of the stones, it was set withal) it was of such power, that wheresoever it cut, it dissolved all charms and enchantments. And in like manner she took a Ring of memory all of one Diamond, as well the hoop, as the stone, made in two parts, which being joined together, had a virtue in it, that he that had it, could remember what ever he had done, or had happened unto him, unto that present time. With this treasure, and rich apparel, that Axa had put up, they went all three abroad the Bark, who aided with sails and oars, they were favoured so much, that being now on the main Ocean, in a happy time, they doubled the Cape of Naples, which Kingdom they discovered one morning at break of day. The joy of all three was great, but especially of the beautiful Princess, who with amorous discourse did solemnize her great content, in beholding Christendom, and for enjoing the company of her beloved Prince. At this very instant, Axa behold a far off a Bark appear, that made towards them, with all speed, and being much troubled, she turned to the Prince, saying, alas my Lord, the Bark we have discovered, is the Soldanas Bark, my Mother, who with her magic, and enchantments, is able to destroy us without resistance. The Prince did comfort her, making it a sport that one Woman should be able to conquer him, but the greatest comfort that she found, was the remembrance of the Sultan's sword, that the Prince wore, and so (although with great fear, and many tears,) she was persuaded, that there was no other remedy but that they must cut something, which belonged to the Bark, and not suffer themselves, to be grappled with, that they might not be overthrown; In the Interim the Soldana came up to them, with great bravery, reviling them, and calling the Prince ruffian, and the Prince's whore, and threatening them, that now they should never escape her hands: the Prince advised her not to come near him, except she desired her own destruction: but the not regarding his counsel, came to board him, and fastening her grappling hands upon part of the Prince's Bark, to leap into it. The Prince (that was very vigilant) cut them off with as much of the Bark, as they had laid hold upon: and so (by force) severed her, from them. The Soldana, when she saw that by the virtue of the sword, he had defended himself from her, being able to do no more, spoke in a rage to her daughter, in this manner: well Traitress, though you have such confidence in your ruffian, I will bring it so to pass, that the first Woman, that he shall embrace, he shall forget thee: and so she returned as fierce as a Lioness, with the loss of her fingers. They seeing themselves freed of this danger, and near the Kingdom of Naples, got into the heaven with great content: where the Prince, dissembling himself very much, because he desired not then to be known, made the Captain of the Castle there, (being a man of his old acquaintance) to be called unto him. To whom only, (in private) he discovered himself. The Captain being amazed at this sight, was falling down upon his Knees, to kiss his hands, and feet, but the Prince winked upon him, and commanded him to conceal him: and that he should entertain him, but as an ordinary Cavalleere, because he did not as yet desire, to make himself known, and so causing the Bark to be unladen of his Coffers, they went to refresh themselves at his House; where he imparted his great joy only to his Wife, and his two Daughters. And you may well guess what joy this was, when as for the loss of this their Prince, all the country (after a most sad manner) mourned in black sackcloth. But being come thither, the first thing Axa did, was to be Christened, by the hand of a Bishop, to whom they were fain to discover themselves, for this purpose. And at the same time the Prince was also married to the fair Axa. And so the next day, The Prince commending the care of her, to the Captain, and his Wife, and Daughters, he and the Doctor departed in strangers habits, to present himself to his Father, that himself might be the first, that might 〈◊〉 the reward, for this news: promising his new married Lady to come back again to her thither, and to receive her into the Country with great solemnity. She suspecting the success, bestowed on him, and put upon his finger half the Diamond Ring of memory before mentioned, and kept the other half by herself. In this manner, they went to the Court, where his parents, the King and Queen were, and entered into the Palace. Then the tears trickled from this good Prince's eyes, as well for joy he received to see his parents, as for the grief, that his absence had caused so great sorrow throughout the Kingdom, And after telling the waiters, that he had a business of importance, to impart unto the King, he was admitted into the presence: and there being full of content, after he had passed a thousand jests, and passages of mirth, with the Cavalleeres, he discovered himself unto them: that they might (by degrees,) make his Father understand of 〈◊〉 coming▪ lest excess of joy by the sudden knowledge of his 〈◊〉 cause some dangerous 〈◊〉 in him. All this 〈◊〉 well carried, & so at length the Father, & Son received one the other, with many tears, and embraces. And as the Prince was relating to the King, all the discourse of his captivity, and how by means of the fair Axa, he was delivered, in comes his Mother, trembling, and much altered, with her sudden joy, and embraced him, shedding many tears, until the King interrupted her and said to the Queen; as you love my life be still. That my Son may proceed, in the most exquisite story, (of his travels) that ever was heard: and so he requested him to proceed, and to declare, where he had left the fair Axa he spoke of. The Prince wholly forgetful what he had said, as if he were astonished, at some new accident, made answer, that he knew not Axa, nor whether there were such a one, or no, nor did he ever see any such person. And the more the King wondered at it, the more the Prince denied it: so that the Queen 〈…〉 King, and encreated him to leave this discourse, and 〈…〉 to him of 〈…〉 nothing then but to 〈…〉 they all possessed. And so was the news divulged, and great expressions of joy were made through the whole Kingdom; And because the King had (formerly) been upon treaty of a marriage for the Prince with the Queen of Sicily, (which by reason of his being lost, was hitherto stayed) he now again sent his Ambassadors to her, with the consent, and liking of his Son, the Prince, who without thinking of his Lady Axa, approved well of it. But when the Doctor saw this, and that the Prince did not only forbear to proceed, with his great entertainment for his Lady Axa: but did not so much as think of her: being much grieved, he returned, to the place, where she remained, but he found that she was not much altered by this accident, but showing a good semblance, to the Captain, commanded him, and the Doctor to go to the Court, and to provide her the best lodging, which was to be had, without the Palace, giving them much Gold, and Silver, out of her treasure, and licence to spend a great part of it, in furnishing of the said lodging: she also sent a messenger to the King, to let him understand, that a Princess of a strange Country, was coming to his Court, about an important business, and that his Majesty should take order, for her entertainment, according as was suiting to her quality, and estate. The King, wondering from whom so great a Lady, could come, commanded she should be received, by the Cavalleeres of his Court: requiring her to discover whom she was, that he might not fall short, in giving her the honour due unto her; The fair Axa answered, that his Majesty should know from her own mouth, who she was; so the Captain, having provided a stately House, adorned with curious furniture, and well furnished with servants, and officers, fitting for the House of a Queen, the King took order to receive the fair Axa, with great preparation, curiously trimming the streets through which she was to pass, and providing the best inventions, plays and dancing that could be thought on to entertain her withal. In this manner she made her entry, being habited in as rich a fashion, as ever Queen or Princess was beheld attired with, And being indeed (for beauty) the paragon of the World, so she seemed to all that beheld her, to be more than a humane Creature. The King and the Queen, stood privately and by themselves, where they might behold her, as she passed from her House to the Court, and so did the Prince, who as she passed by him, vailed his Beaver, and she returned her complemental respect to him, looking wishly and affectionately upon him, as one that had not yet forgot him. Who although that shoe appeared to him, to be the most curious Creature, that ever he beheld, yet did he not at all remember her, but he took notice how passionately she had eyed him, by which, and by her wonderful beauty, he became a fresh enamoured. And thus the fair Axa, with much astonishment to all the Court, made her entry, distributing many rich gifts, and presents, unto the Courtiers. The next morning, the King sent to visit her, by his Lord high Steward, who (though he were a brave Courtier,) when he entered to deliver the compliment, his speech was taken from him, with beholding her wonderful beauty, nor could he call to mind what he was to say. Axa entreated him to sit down, and gave him much respect, with which he was the more astonished, not knowing, how to dispatch his errand, nor how to depart thence: the Princess, (feigning that she de red much his company, and that his good intentions did well satisfy her) gave way he might sup with her. And by this favour, she increased his blindness so much, that he desired, that she would suffer him, to lie there that night, though it were but upon a bench, because he could not find the way thence. To whom the beautiful Axa answered, that he should not only lie there, as he desired, but that he should lie in her own Chamber. The high Steward, much pleased with this, accepted of it, and when bedtime was come, he asked for a Comb and a Brush to comb himself withal saying to the Princess, that he always used to do thus, and that it was the custom of the Country so to do: then the Princess presented him a Comb with her own hand, and he begun to comb himself therewith, while she sat confidently by him, for he did nothing but call her, to sit by him, and said the good of the high Steward, might excuse her, so he stood (thus) combing himself, so long, that he much galled his head, for he continued so doing till morning without ceasing. At what time, the Prince came thither, and saw this, and took out of his hands the Comb and Brush, sending him away like a blockhead, telling him, he had need to comb himself, because she would not do it for him. In this manner the poor Steward, much ashamed, went to the King, with his arms very weary, and the skin galled off his head, with the much combing it, complaining, what wrong the strange Princess had done him, for which he was well laughed at by the King Queen, and Prince, who did nothing, but jeer him for it; but much more the Queen's Lord Chamberlain telling him, that because he was thus finely combed; they durst not keep him company. Wherefore the Queen commanded, that he should be employed on the same business, that she might see, what success he would have. He was very well contented with it, but there happened a like misfortune to him, that did to the former, but by another way. For when he had dined and supped, and trodden the same steps, that the other had done, the Princess offering him a Comb, and a Brush, he excused himself (thinking thereby, he had overcome all) answering that he had no need of combing, but he had a very great longing, to put out the Candle, that was there burning, and so he went to blow it out, and still as he put it out, it was lighted again, and he still renewed his blowing of it, and thus he continued all night, who still when the Princess called him, answered, I will come Madam, when I have put out the Candle, which shall never get the victory of me. At which the Princess, and many of her Ladies, that were there, with her, made much mirth: And thus exercised, he passed the whole night, and in the morning she sent him away, much ashamed. He returned to the King, and the Queen, who desired to be satisfied, why he stayed so long▪ the Lord steward that was so combed, was so much pleased, to see him so much troubled, that his own vexation was thereby much lessened: and the rather for that his head did now begin to be better, and (The King, Queen and the Prince, standing in doubt, from whence so fair, and wise a Woman, should come) there came a message, from her, requesting the King, to give her audience, in the business she came for, which was granted her, & he forth with commanded she should come thither, and when she ascended the Palace, the Queen, and her Ladies were ready to receive her; and so she entered most gloriously, and richly, desiring to kiss the King's hands, which might not be granted, before he knew what she was, and what she desired. She prostrated herself before him, and took them by force, saying, that presently they should see, whether they might give her them, with a good will; and with that, she required Justice of the King, to cause half a Ring of memory, that the Prince had robbed her of to be restored unto her, which Ring she said, the Prince did then wear upon his finger. The Prince much blushing said, that it was true, that he had such a Ring; but that he did not remember that he took it from her: then the Princess pulled off that which she had upon her own finger, and putting it upon the Prince's finger, and joining, and fitting it, into the other, the Prince came to himself, as if he had awaked from a dream; and his eyes being opened, and seeing his Lady Axa, before him, first falling down upon his knees, before her, he (presently) went and took her in his arms, and said unto her; O my Lady, and true Spouse, and my greatest bliss: and then he proceeded, to tell the King, and Queen, his parents, his story: and how much he was engaged, to this fair Princess, who with joy embraced, and received her for their Daughter, and being in the midst of their joy, there entered the Ambassadors, that came from Sicily, and declared, that the Queen was already married, to another King her neighbour: who at the very time, they were in treaty, came with a great Navy, and carried her to his own Country, and there married her, at which they were much pleased, seeing how happily all things fell out, and so the Prince, and the most wise, and beautiful Axa, succeeding their parents, in the Kingdom, did long reign, with happy peace, and prosperity.   

The end of the Tale, and proceeding of the Author, in his matter.  
He ought also that takes upon him to tell any story or tale, (like this) although he have many to tell, and that they hear him willingly, to give way, that every one, may tell his own story, and not to exceed his limits (so far,) in this kind, that he should be accounted tedious or troublesome: nor to invite men to be always telling such stories, for the principal use of them, is but to fill up idle time.  
2. One must also take heed in this, as in all other manner of discourses, that he observe the propriety, and purity of words, and not leaving the common use, and true Castilian tongue, rather striving for plainness, than curiosity, so that if in common discourse, we be to say the Sun, we should not say, the light of the world, nor to say he stood in the frontispiece of his House, when we should say he stood in the porch, or entry thereof. Nor when one should say, he took the fresh air of the morning, to say that he received the Zephyrus of Aurora, nor in ordinary things, to use words, which are strangers, in our language, like some, that think they show great learning, in drawing old words, out of use, into their discourses.  
3. But what shall we say of the coined phrases, of some I deots, that labour to speak in metaphors, and high and excellent strains, as they conceive.  
4. A student, one Christmas coming home to see his parents, and kindred, as he stood with them, by the fire, thinking to show his learning by speaking in an extraordinary manner, instead of saying, lay this wood on the fire, said thus, Lady Nurse, apply these materials, to the consumer of all things, for you see, that the biting tooth of nature, makes me in a walking temper. His Father that was well studied, and a good speaker, replied to this, me thinks my Son, that the want you felt in the Castilian tongue you have as well met withal in the Latin, and that in a worse manner, for you might have expressed more in a plain Song, than you have done, in the counter point. I say then, that our words ought to be such, as may be significant, and plain to be understood, according to the custom of the place, where thou art, and not so obsolete, that they are grown rusty, (as the proverb goes.) For it is better to say Tapiz, which is Tapestry or French Cloth, than Paramentoes, which is an old word, that signify the same thing, and to say Ensenar to teach, than Averzar, being an old word, that signify the same thing, And Accostombrado, accustomed, and not as others use to say, Estoy hecho a esto, which signify the same thing. I except Labourers, and Peasants, and other people of poor places, although we make sport of their language: yet it becomes them well, and if they strive to alter their ordinary way, it shows ill. And according to their account, you shall find such understanding men amongst them, that they may give us fifteen and a fault, as the proverb goes, that think ourselves wiser.  
But it is not to be doubted, but for the most part, if we could hear the passages betwixt some of them, in their consultations, and discourses, we would be much taken with them.  
5. A curious Courtier, walking in the habit of a labourer, passed through a Village, at the time they were in council, and so by means of his habit, that he wore, he was permitted, to behold what passed there, and at that instant, he saw one of the country fellows, that sat there, stand up, and putting off his Cap spoke thus to the Justices of the place. Noble Lords, Juan Gamorro & Pedro Garcia se quieren chapar por cohadres if it please you. The most ancient of the Judges answered him thus. No engemineys tantos in lo c●hadria, que succedera eugobello, so that we cannot determine of it.  
6. In another more obscure place he said he saw another Judge that being troubled spoke thus, come you hither Meculas of Ana and tell me why you wear that Dagger, Meculas de Ana answered him, I may wear it for my defence, to which the Judge in anger answered as he sat upon the bench, take it from him, and set him on the Pillory, and take it for Law, that I sentence him and command it. The concept of the Author is not to be understood but in the Spanish.  
7. Returning then to our purpose, I say, that our words must be plain, and this we may do, if we know how to use such as have their original, and natural signification, from the Land we are in: and they ought not to be so old, that they prove hard to be understood, and out of all use: like old Clothes, and habits, so that if when we ought to leave them off, we shall go abroad with them, we shall be pointed at, and derided for so doing. And therefore, he that shall say, Membrose for Acordarse, or ome Bueno for hombre Bueno, and sincar for que dar, and such like, shall do very ill.  
8. In like manner, our words must be as proper, as may be, to express that which we desire to show by them, and less significant, and common to express other things by; As to say, he was known Enlas faciones, by his fashion, is more proper then to say he was known En la figura o Imagen. And it is better to say, Reclino le Puerta, que no grito la puerta, the door squeekes, and we may more properly say, Et tremblor de quarantana then El frio the shaking of the quartan Ague, and many such like as these.  
9 None can well speak to another, in the tongue which he unto whom he speaketh understandeth not, and for this reason, those that are curious, and especially strangers do labour to understand Latin, because it is a tongue so common in the World, and which they teach by art unto those that are to travel, into strange Countries. And in my opinion, those who have or may have means to learn it, ought not to neglect the knowledge thereof, that they may enjoy the treasure, that is written in that language. And the reason that in Spain, men do not ordinarily discourse so well, as in other Kingdoms, is, because in many places thereof, they teach many rules, and do very little exercise to discourse, but for a man's ordinary custom, none ought to alter his mother tongue, except necessity require. And if a Spaniard be to discourse with an Italian, or one of another language, whom he knows doth well understand the Castilian tongue, he is not bound to speak to him in any other than his own Castilian tongue. Neither is an Italian, or stranger, that knows that the Spaniard (with whom he discourses) understands him, tied to speak Castilian, or to excuse himself for his foolish language: And it hath been seen that an Italian hath spoken in Spanish, with a Spaniard, for vain glory, and oftentations sake, and a Spaniard to answer him in Italian, and both one, and the other, to speak such broken language, that they might easily discover one another to speak ill, and any other, that heard them, must needs laugh at them, to hear the improprieties and fooleries spoken of them.  
10. There was after this manner a Spaniard that met with an Italian his friend, and each of them speaking the others language, when they had spoken much on both sides without well understanding each the other: The Spaniard spoke to the Italian in this manner, Sir I am of opinion, that except we change tongues, we can proceed no farther, therefore let me have my Castilian tongue, and do you take your Italian.  
11. To this purpose, I can tell you of a great drinker, that called a jew newly become a Christian, drunkard, and the other called him jew, and having accused and sued each the other, for the same, the Judge being in examination of the business, The drunkard said, Sir he confesseth he called me jew, and I deny not but that I did call him drunkard, let them therefore pass one for the other, and so we are even: if not, let him return me my drunkard, I will return him his jew, and so the Judge set them both free, and made them friends. I say then returning to my matter, that we must take heed of speaking in a strange language, when there is no necessity to do it.  
12. A discreet Gentleman must (in like manner) be sure that his words be modest, and honest and well sounding, I mean that they be well sounding or delivered in a good tone, and have a good signification, for there are some words, that sound in the meaning of them, and not in the letter of them, as when they say, she recoiled instead of she fell backward, which as to the meaning of it, is better; and it may more honestly be said, his she friend, than his harlot, and of a dishonest woman such a one is her servant, then to say, he is ruffian to such a young Quean, and such like or worse words. And when we may express things of this nature by one word, it is better to do it so then with two, as to say, much good may it do you, and he gained, and enjoyed her. Except he change it into mirth, which a Country fellow found, who coming for a dispensation said to the Justice of the Court, Sir, They have made me come hither to buy a dispensa, or dispensation from the Sumo Ponfize, meaning the Pope, & the notary ask him Si avi tenido accesso o copula if he had lain with her or had copulation, He answered I Sr. ya hemos tenido eucientios y popula, and she is with child, that thanks be to God, they cannot account me pro omnipotent, meaning an impotent fellow. There befell a witty accident to a Lawyer of this Court, from a Country fellow, who being of his counsel, after he had discoursed of his case, he said unto him, master Lawyer, I desire with your worship's leave, that I may give your wife two blows on the buttocks, the Lawyer was something troubled with this, until the labourer proceeded in this manner, saying, indeed I am the bolder to give them, because the Bacon is good, and so the mistake was, that instead of saying Lunadas de tocino, gammons of Bacon, he called them nalgadas, which signify claps on the buttocks.  
13. Of all these things we ought to be admonished of, in our common discourse, and being to handle a larger subject, every one may make use of the rules and instructions of Rhetoric. But in that which we here call good courtship, we must use modest, gentile, and sweet language, that may have no bitterness in them, and so we should rather say. I do not well express myself, then that you cannot understand me. We will try, if it be so as you say, then to say, you are deceived, or it is not true, or you do not know it. For it is a courtly and pleasing fashion, to excuse another, even in that that thou knowest he is too blame in. We ought also to make our friend's error, common to ourselves, and to take part of it, upon ourselves, and after to reprove him, in a seasonable time, saying, we were out of the way and we never thought to do this, although the truth be, that the forgetfulness was in the other, and not, in him that took the fault upon him. And if any one promise thee any thing, & cannot accomplish it, or be forgetful of it, it is not civil to say, you have broke your credit or promise with me, or you have not kept your word, you have not regarded me. For such words are pricking, and sharp, and imply in them, some suspicion of infamy, or reproach, and those that use such language, are accounted harsh, and simple, and so men avoid them, and their friendship: like unto them that eat to entangle themselves, with briers and brambles, which two to one, (although it be for things of no weight) are occasioned to bring us to destruction. And so we must never speak, except first, we have framed in our minds, what to speak, that thy discourse may be well delivered, and be consonant in itself. Nor as little oughtest thou, to seek to be the speaker, in assemblies, or meetings, nor as little oughtest thou when thou art amongst thy equals, to be always silent: yet in these two extremes, thou canst less err, in holding thy peace. As they tell of one Piobano that was in Italy, a very pleasing man, and discreet, that when one gave him many injurious, and opprobrious speeches, he heard them patiently, and said nothing to them, and being asked why he held his peace, and did not answer for himself: made answer, that whilst the other was speaking, he was considering, that he never yet repent, for being silent, but for speaking he had often repent him.  
14. True it is, that those that speak well, and gracefully, without wronging of others, are blameless. Yet for all this, it must be done so modestly, that they give way with patience for others to speak, so that they do not speak out of their course, to the end that they may have all the talk alone. For there be some that in this error of talking too much, are so passionate, that they place all their delight, and pleasure, in them, that will give them leave to talk.  
15. And if by chance there be two talkers, at one meeting, it is a wonder to find them agree well: for each of them will strive, to be the Cock of the company, where he is. As it fell out to a Cavallero, in this Court, that was a great talker, that being to go to Cordova, the day he was to take his journey, he entertained a lackey, to accompany him, who (according to his ability) was as great a talker as his master. And so it fell out that from the time he went out of Madrid, till he came to the place whither he was to make his first day's journey, for four leagues they had traveled, the master never ceased talking, to his new servant ask him questions, and telling him stories, not giving his servant leave to speak one word. For which cause he took his leave of him, saying, your worship hath tired yourself, and I give you no thanks for it: For your worship is a great talker, and I have the same passion of talking, and if I may not play my play, and take my turn, but must be forced to go from hence to Cordova, without speaking, I should be so full that I must burst, and therefore I would go no further with you, for more than I have agreed with you for.  
16. But except thou observe a little these instructions, I advise thee, that when thou art to speak, thou be careful to understand the mind, of those thou discoursest withal, and suit thy talk to the applause of those that hear thee.  
17. Be not so confident, to stand, listening, I say hugging and applauding thyself, making faces, and mouths, and antique gestures, always reaching out thy arms, and hands, as if thou wert to act some body. For there are some that all they fancy in their brains, they fashion it out with their hands, playing it upon all their fingers.  
18. The voice must not be hoarse, nor shrill, nor must we be very loud, when we have cause to laugh, or for any other accident, like some, that skreeke like carts, that want greasing, nor can any speak whilst he makes such a noise. Nor to be so heedless of our memories as to begin to speak a word, and then to stand stuttering a good while, ere we can utter it. And he that is hoarse or hath an ill utterance, should not desire to speak much, but let him correct the fault of his tongue, with silence and attention to others, who may also with care, and study, hide his natural imperfection. As little pleasing is it, to lift up ones, voice, as one that calls out for help, nor to speak so softly, that he cannot be heard, and except they hear thee at first, thou must the second time raise thy voice, and not to be always wedded to one tone. Yet must thou as little speak too shrill, because they did not before hear thee when thou spakest so softly. Thy words must then be well marshaled, according to the use, and custom, and not wound, and wreathen, here and there, nor intricate, (as some in gallantry use to do) as to say my light is dislighted, by your light, which are expressions only fitting for Poets. Except when with consent of all, and for mirth sake, they are discoursing of poetry, and making verses. Then if thou shalt see that those of thine own profession, and age, do entertain, & busy themselves in this, thou oughtest not to be out of order, or strange: but to say something thou knowest, as it comes to thy turn, and if thou have no faculty in poetry, let it be very little that thou speakest retiring in time like a good sencer. Wherefore to conclude, such exercise is not ordinarily to be used, as we shall hereafter declare.    

CHAPTER. 14. Of those that have no abilities to it, and yet will needs be Poets.  
BEcause we have hitherto treated, of the knowledge how to speak well, and to jest, and of the readiness which is required therein, and also of those, who without ability of wit, do adventure to discourse, and entertain company, more to content themselves, than their auditors. I will now treat of boldness that some use, in the subject of poetry.  
1. For the which I will first give you for a rule, what wariness a curious gentleman, is to observe in using of this subject: for his breeding, and gentilenes, bind him not to have skill in it, neither let him spend his time in it, if his natural inclination do not help him much in it. For though there be many rules to be known, the principal to be learned is, for every one to know his own natural inclination, and ability to it, for poetry to make it pleasing, must be very good. For if in any thing, there be no mean, it is in this. True it is, that few make verses, that are not very confident, and that think they are the best, that ever were made, and as the palate, and opinion of the people, is divers, so they may (always) find some, that will applaud and hearken unto them, and peradventure some that will prefer them before very good poets, for the novelty, and difference there is between them, and those that have gone before them. As in like manner, there are some, that are so wedded to antiquity, that no modern piece of poetry, doth please them, though it be more quick, and elegant, than those old poems, they have in memory, which were made in their younger times. For there are some that but one pair of shoes can fit (as they say) so that that which they hear first, doth so cloy their palate, that they have no room left, for any thing that may follow, although it be better. Only they infer, that the goodness of common poetry, is all one, as well of that which was written heretofore, as of that which is now in use. But because my intent is not here to make a book of the art of poetry, I refer myself to many ancient, and modern things, that have been exceeding well written of it, and I will only say, that a curious gentleman, must know his proportion in it, and if he have a vain in it, having seen, and read much, let him not govern himself, by his own fancy, but by theirs that endeavour to understand him. And in things that are grave and very serious, except he find them ready, and easy, let him not trouble himself much to reduce them to harmony. For they, not being very acquaint, do only please him that makes them, and do displease those that hear them, Especially if they be amorous complaints, or of suffering and dying, without knowing how to end. And therefore poetry that is made for mirth, and pastime, is wont to be well accepted of, and if any small fault be committed therein, it is easilyer winked at, then if it were in grave, and sad matters, as for example a pastoral, or thing of pleasure, that represents (in its colour) something acted in a Country village; Accordingly as we have seen, many sonnets, and pleasing madrigals, of which I will set down one for example, which was made of a Council held in a Village, that had purchased itself to be a Town, or Corporation.  

The Hedge, and Mill, in Council set,  
Proclaimed by voice, of common Crier.  
Lord Pasquall, Merin, being met,  
In judgement, with Paul their Grandsire,  
They quit Apitius, keeping Swine,  
Lorenzo charge o'er Bacon gave,  
The Butcher's bound, as with a line,   

Of Okes, and Action's, ●are to have.  
They give each massy Brass his charge,  
Outrushed, Marke-Gill, the Council fore,  
That he o'th' pillory at large,  
Might treat of mending, ere they go.  
Then in a rage says Gurca Gill,  
All's Ordered well; why prate you still?   
All such things of mirth, which good wits have made, for mirth, & pastime, do take much, without prejudice to his good repute, that in such a rude style doth manifest his great ability, and elegancy, And now and then, a flash of this, doth not take ill, like a good musician, who what Song soever he singeth (though it be ordinary, and composed without art,) can help it, and by his good voice, and grace in singing, make it show well. But he that knows not how to do it, yet is confident in making of verses, and relying merely upon his own skill, shall publish his works, to the view of all, shall lay himself open to a public censure. And such as these, when they invite a friend unto their house, they torture him with their metres and sonnets. And we may all wish, to be delivered, from a work, or discourse of love, made in as long as long tedious stanzas: according as his loss or burden, is great or pressing, so that all you read in two hours is but to play at fast and loose, and though thou desirest it not, yet hear it thou must, because it is the first time that thou sawest him. They say also, that to make verses relish well, we must not look for any mean in them, as we do in other things so earnestly, but extremes. So that they must either be exceeding good, for to please, or very bad, to cause mirth and laughter.  
2. Of those that are good, as well ancient as modern, the books, and writings of the famous Laureate poets, (to which I refer the discreet Reader) are stuffed full. But for those that are very bad, of base and poor conceit, there might well be made a Song-booke, of the dull headed poets, which would not be a bad entertainment, and pastime, for the discreet sort, to taste of, in passing by, as it were, to relish their palates withal.  
3. We have, and may see (every day) the humours of most witty men, which because some of them have come to my hands, I will not (to this purpose) omit, to put a little in this sallate, and for our music, it shall suffice to touch a false string, or (to speak more properly,) for this interlude of mirth, and pastime.  
One going to Toledo, to inquire about some business, an ordinante, presuming much of his poetry, spoke to the examiner (thinking thereby by his conceits to get his good will) in this manner.  
4. Your worship may be pleased to understand, that amongst the variety of gifts, the Lord hath bestowed upon men, he hath been so gracious to me (although far unworthy) to endue me with the gift of poetry. So that I find the conceits of poetry, to spring so fast in me, that they even tread one another under feet, in thronging to vent themselves, and some divine bymnes I have made, (after the manner of the Church anthems,) and thus he began to read the first of them.  
Let us rejoice, let us rejoice,  
It is meet we should rejoice,  
Let us rejoice, let us rejoice.  
And many such things he repeated in this strain, which caused much mirth, and pleasure, to see in what earnest, and how confidently he spoke them. In like manner, another Country fellow in a Christmas night sung in this manner.  
Ay dedesme la mano peccadores e salvaros he. And the letter of the words were, Ay peccadores deal everpo garrido dedesme le mano y aun in escondido, y salvar vos he.  
6. And other things of this nature, which is not ill pastime, being repeated in company, so they be but few, and naturally spoken.  
7. He also, that cannot frame himself to poetry, and must speak in prose, ought not only to take heed, of speaking incongruous words, but also, that he spoke not, in a lofty way, and in the tone of a preacher. For though there be more mastership, and difficulty, to preach then to discourse: yet that must be reserved for its proper time, As he that is to pass through the street, must not dance, but walk through, as all know. Though it be granted, that there is more skill, in dancing then walking, yet for all this, it would show ridiculous, for a man to pass skipping, or dancing, for such gestures, are to be reserved, for weddings, and festivals. And in like manner, must thou forbear, to vary thy voice too much in thy discoursing.  
8. Take heed also that thou avoid those that are ever talking, as I have already said: for there are some, that are so pleased with their own discourse, that when the matter is at an end, of that which they had to say, yet will they not be silent, but will begin to repeat what they have said, or speak other impertinencies. And if any thing be uttered, that they understand, they will take it out of your mouth, like as one Hen doth snatch away the meat that another Hen carrieth in her beak.  
9 And surely, they cannot choose but displease them from whom they (in this manner) do take their words. And nothing so soon moves a man to anger, as when before he is aware, his mind and pleasure is crossed, be it never so little. As if a man have but lifted up his hand, to throw a stone, and at the instant, one behind him should hold his hand.  
10. All these things must be avoided: but in discoursing, we ought rather to yield to another's desire, then to hinder it. And therefore if any be relating, any story, or accident, it is not good to interrupt him, or to tell him, thou knowest it already: nor as he is in the midst of his story, to mix any trifles, or jests of thine own, with this discourse, nor (to seem) to tax his judgement, by upbraiding speeches, or actions, as wagging the head or squinting, with thine eyes (as many do) saying thou canst not endure, such harsh discourse. Nor in like manner) to rend as it were a man's words, from his mouth, being an ill custom, and is no less distasteful, then for a man to be stopped by another as he is running a race. Nor when another is discoursing, ought we to behave ourselves, in such sort, that others that hear them, be moved to leave them, and to listen to some new discourse & gain that attention to themselves, which was before lent to another. For it is not seemly, to dismiss one, whom thou didst not invite, but to leave him to the rest, to give him attention.  
11. In like manner, thou must be attentive to him that discourses, and therefore, it is not fitting at every turn to say, how was this, I pray, as many use to do. Which is as little pleasing, to the speaker, as to tread upon a man's gown, as he is walking.  
12. So that all this, and generally all things, that may stop, or hinder a man, to proceed in the discourse he hath begun, aught to be avoided of us. And if any be slow in his discourse, thou must not be so choleric, to prevent him, nor to tell him words to express himself, although thou be rich, and abound in language, and the other be not so, for many take this ill: and especially those that think they know how to speak well. For they are persuaded, you understand their ability, and that you labour to help them, in their own art. Even as a rich merchant taketh it for an affront, for another to offer him money, as if he needed it, and were poor and beggarly. And you must know, that every one thinks, he knows how to speak, though modesty forbid him to say so.  
13. And I cannot tell you the reason whence it comes (yet so it is) that those that know least, are the most talkative. So that every one should beware of much talking, especially if he know little: for it is a rare thing, for a man to talk much, and not to commit many errors, for he that talks, seems (in a sort) to exercise some sovereignty over his auditors as a master doth over his scholars, and it is not fitting, for a man to assume more, than his share of this superiority.  
14. As much talking is troublesome, so also is much silence. For, for a man always to be silent, where others are discoursing, shows they desire not to interest themselves (as it were) in paying of the shot, or discourse. And in this case, to speak, is to open the door, to entertain his friendship, that hears thee and on the contrary, to be silent, is to show, that thou desirest to be unknown, and concealed. And so, in this matter of discoursing, and of the extremes thereof, I conclude; desiring thee to make use of it as a model and rule of policy to live in good esteem, As I found it storied in an ancient chronicle, in this manner. There was in the Province of Morea, a famous Carver, called for his great skill, master Clarissimo. He being now very old, made a treatise, wherein he expressed all the rules, and secrets of his art (as being a man very skilful) setting down, how to take the dimensions of the limbs of a man's body, that they might bear a just proportion, and good correspondency, one with the other: and this book he called a rule, or direction, by which book, according to his directions, therein contained, all the figures, of men's bodies, which should (from thenceforth) be made, (by other masters) should be proportioned: and the more plainly to demonstrate his skill, he made a statue of fine marble, so excellent, and well wrought, that it might (well) be called, the example of his Book, and receive the like name of Regla, or rule, with it, which (together) with his Book, remained for a perfect pattern, to all the master Gravers, that should succeed him. Now than if perchance it may be my good hap, that this little book may come to be a rule and pattern for a young man, to imitate, who desires to be pleasing, and well reputed of, for his behavioure it will then serve in the place of the Carvers treatise or rule he first made. But for the second rule, or statue of Marble, which is to put the first rules in practice, I cannot (like that great master) leave you a visible example. For it is true, that for the ordering of the manners, and customs of people, it is not enough, to know the art, and to have a rule, how to carry one's self: it is required also, to put them in practice, use, and custom. Which cannot be learned in a little time, but requires many years, and by little, and little, & in those things, that a man hath wholly spent his time in, he can instruct another, the way, that he erred in himself. And so those, who have stumbeld, and fallen, do far better remember, the deceitful, and doubtful paths, than those that never had experience of them.  
16. And if in my tender age, when the disposition is more tender, and flexible) I had had one to admonish me, of these things, perchance I should have been as considerate as I now desire to make thee to be. And you may understand, that though the force of a good nature, is much, yet for all this, it may be altered, and made worse by ill custom. And so it is convenient, that against this custom, we oppose good rules, and examples, before it grow too strong, and obstinate: All en hornar se hasen los panes tuertos. The joaves became mishapen in the Oven.  
17. This the greater sort do not observe, but follow their own mind, and pleasure, and going whither it invites them, obeying their natural inclination, as if reason were an unnatural thing unto man. But this reason is a powerful Lady, and mistress, to alter the Ill customs, and to help, and lift up nature, when she at any time doth stumble or fall. And as we, (for the most part) do not give ear unto her, so we may (for the most part) be fitly said, to resemble those living creatures (whom God hath not given reason unto) such as are brute Beasts, in whom sometime we may notwithstanding observe some work of reason, but not of their own, but something which we have taught them, with our reason. As we may observe in horses, who naturally are wild, and fierce, and yet, every master of them makes them gentle, and well conditioned, (more or less) according to his skill, or experience, for we see many of them having an uncomely trot, are taught by man, to go a smooth, and easy amble, and to stand quietly, to run, to prance and bound, and all this they learn, and are therein subject, to our will, and reason.  
18. If then, the horse, the dog, and the birds, and many other Creatures, (though much fiercer than these) do submit themselves to the reason of another, and do obey it, and profit so far thereby, (A thing which by nature they know not, but were utterly repugnant thereto) that they become so ready, and useful, not by nature, but merely by custom: how much more ought man, to believe, that he shall much advantage himself, by the rules, and documents, that are drawn from our own reason, if we will give care unto them. But sensual men love present delight, and avoid that, which troubles them, and detains them from it. They do not therefore reject reason, because they think it bitter, the truth being, that they esteem it in the first place; nor is the hurtful pleasure, (oftentimes) but even that which is good, noisome and offensive to the depraved, and subdued palate; for while we live, according to sense, we are like a sick man, to whom all food, though it be sweet, and pleasant, relishes ill, and seems naught: and he finds fault with every one, that giveth it unto him, though the fault be not in the Meat, but the bitterness he feels is in his own tongue; so that he tastes not the goodness, and sweetness of the Meat. So reason, which of itself is sweet, seems bitter unto us, more by our distemper, then that (in itself) it is so indeed, and being tender, and delicate, we esteem it not, but do dissemble, and cloak our own errors and weakness, objecting, that there are no spurs, no bridle, sufficient, to govern our natural inclinations. And surely, if we should meet with Oxen, or other unreasonable creatures, they could not afford us a worse sentence, nor more senseless than this. We then at ripe years, yea in old age itself would continue to be like young men, were it not, that reason (that increaseth in us with our years) doth turn us from beasts, unto men. And thereby it prevaileth above our senses, and appetite; and so is it our own fault, and our own neglect, and not our nature, that makes us culpable in this kind.  
14. Except we can blame her, by way of mirth, as a witty Italian once did, upon the stage, before a great auditory, after this manner, Dame nature erred, in placing a man's legs the wrong way, upon his body: for the Calves, and the heels, which should have been set foremost, were set behind; by reason whereof, as a man walks, he doth often break his shins, and hurt his Toes, (which is a great pain to him) which he could not have done, if the Calf of the Leg had stood foremost, but especially, in going up a pair of theirs, our feet standing that way, do often make us stumble, and fall. A man ought also to have had a door made in his belly, to open and shut, that when he should be costive, or bound in his belly, he might open it, and unstop the passage, and wash his Guts, and then there would be no need, to set such battering glister cannons against the postern, nor to make use of so many medicinal Bullets, as are used to force the passage open.  
20. And it might (likewise) serve, that gallants might not cozen their mistresses, but, that when they profess to them, in this manner, my fair mistress, I here within me do carry engraven in my heart, your curious portraiture, she might (then) presently open the door, and go in, and see, whether he spoke true or no, and then they durst not be so bold, to lie so incredibly, as they now usually do, unto their mistresses.  
21. But leaving these fooleries, and returning to our purpose, I say, it is false, and perverse to maintain there is no bridle can restrain nature, nor master that can tutor her. For we have seen (formerly) that there are two things that can order her; the first is custom, and the other is reason; and that custom must not thwart, that which is in use amongst us. For this use or custom is the son and heir of our times.  
22. Therefore we ought, from our very youth, to begin to learn to be of a good disposition, first, because then a man hath most time to learn, and to show it; And secondly, because that age (being tender, pure, and incorrupt,) doth easily receive any colour: and in like manner, the things a man learneth in his youth, are seldom forgotten: but stick by us as long as we live.  
23. But besides this, we are to consider, that men are passionate, upon beauty, handsomeness, and good proportion, and on the contrary they are enemies to foulness, and things extremely ugly. And this is one especial privilege, which irrational Creatures are not partakers of. For they cannot distinguish between beauty, and deformity. And therefore, as a thing which is not common, with the beasts, but only proper to us; we ought to value it, and esteem it, much in itself; and much more, those that are endowed with better understanding, as being those, that are more capable to understand it: And though we cannot precisely describe, what beauty properly is, nor in what it punctually consists, yet for all that, (that thou mayst know something of her,) I desire you to know; that where you find a decent proportion of the parts, having relation to themselves, in particular, and to the whole in general, this is beauty; and that thing, where this comely, and good proportion is found, ●s a perfect and beautiful thing. Which is the greatest beauty, that can be imagined, as I have been taught, by a very learned man; even so as thou mayest behold in the faces of brave, and gallant Ladies For the form of each of whose faces it seems each part of them hath been made by the pattern of some one excellent face, on purpose to make them exquisite, which seems not so in ill favoured faces, but the contrary, namely to be many ugly parts, taken from several ugly faces, to make them the more deformed. For put case, that an ill favoured Lady have great, and goggle eyes, a small and thin Nose, hollow Cheeks▪ a pouch mouth, a long chin, an ill complexion; you would think, that this face, was not made by one face, but taken out of many, and made of several pieces, which you cannot think of a well featured face, as I have already could you.  
24. It may be, that famous Painter that made all the beautiful Virgins of Calabria, come naked before him, did nothing else, but view the good proportions, that many of them had taken from one excellent creature, (some of them having one part excellent, others another) and made them (every of them) restore that which they had thus robbed her of, whom he was to draw. For that the beauty of Venus was to be such, as a Creature made up, of such several, rare, and exquisite parts, would be.  
25. I would not have you think, that this is to be understood only, of the beauty of good faces, and comely proportion, of the body. But it falls out in speaking, and in action, neither more nor less then, as if thou shouldest find a noble, and brave Lady, very handsome, washing of clothes, at a brook, in the open street, though for any thing else, she offends thee not: yet even this, thou seest her doing, will make thee loathe her, because she shows not herself, one and the same she appeared, but divers, and her original, condition and estate, is such, as belong to a neat and noble Dame, But her works, belong to a vile, and poor conditioned woman. And though there come from her, no ill sent, or favour, nor any ill noise, nor hath she an ill complexion nor doth any way offend any of thy senses: yet will this unsuitable action, base comportment, and vile work (so unsuitable to her condition) be very unpleasing to thee.  
26. Thou must therefore, take heed of all things that are unsuitable to thee, as of such like disagreeing manners, and behaviour: But with greater care, and circumspection, that thou give no example of scandal, to any by thy actions: but especially take heed of such things as I have told you of: for it is more hard, to know when one erreth in such things, then in other: for it is true, that the sense is more active than the understanding. Yet nevertheless, it falls out, (many times) that that very thing, that distastes the senses, doth also displease the understanding: but this is not by the same occasion, but by divers, as I said before, when I showed you, that a wise man must clothe himself, according to the fashion of other men, and not according to his own humour; that he may not show, that he desires to reprove, and amend others: which (to most men) is a hateful thing, to those who desire to be commended. It doth in like manner, offend the judgement, of understanding men, and therefore a man ought not only to be contented, to do things, that are good, but he must endeavour, to do them bravely, and comely. And this bravery or gallantry, is nothing else, but a lustre, that proceeds from the conveniency, and conformity of those things, that, are well composed, without which comeliness, even a good thing, is not fair, nor is the beauty thereof acceptable.  
27. And even as meat, though it be good, and wholesome, if it have no relish, will not please the palate: so is it sometimes in the manners of men, which though in themselves they be not hurtful, nor dangerous, yet are they (nevertheless) simple, and bitter: except grace, and bravery, be added to them, or that which we here call pleasantness. For which reason, every one must needs displease by committing of faults, and errors, because he doth things that agree not together, and so settled, & reserved dispositions, do take dislike at their disagreement, or unsuitableness. So that he that would be pleasing to the people, in his carriage, must fly all vices; but those especially, which are most brutish, or Beastly: as are luxury, covetousness, cruelty, and the like, some of which are base, as namely to be a glutton, or a drunkard, both of which (for the evil property of them) are rejected and abhorred, of most men, as being things dishonourable. But because we are not, (here) to treat of the nature of vices, or virtues, but only of pleasing, and displeasing manners, and neglects, into which people do fall, as was that of count Ricardo, and others, of whom I have spoken, I will not dwell upon them. It is only my intent to speak of that, which civil and well fashioned people must observe, which is, to be careful to keep this beauty, and good proportion, of the things I have told them of. Which we must make use of, in our words, and works, in going, standing still, in sitting, and carrying ourselves, in our clothing, in our speech, and in holding our peace, and in our sleeping, and (generally) in what ever we say, or do. And this I find to be the reason, why a man must not clothe himself like a woman, because his person must not be of one kind, and his habit of another: as some do, that crisp their hair, with hot irons, and lick their faces over, with a painting wash.  
28. Nor should a man be either beastly, or else perfumed, for one is proper for a boor, and the other for an effeminate body; but it is best, for a Gentleman, to smell of nothing either good, or ill: this being indeed the best kind of neatness.  
29. Sometimes he may use this curiosity, by means of some rich perfumed gloves, which he wears, in a careless way. But that which doth please him best, that reckons himself for a Gallant, is to have his Linen sprinkled, with sweet waters, and to have his black Cloak or Gown, very fine, and clean brushed. Which things he that may, yet will not have them, offends the sight of his friend, for slovenliness is a vice, and neatness a virtue, as was well said, by a grave Archbishop of Granado, to his Chaplain, who thinking to get the Bishop's favour, and so be the sooner preferred by him, distinguished himself, from the other Chaplains, by his beastly and slovenly going, as with his neck bare, without any appearance of a Shirt, and his head hanging in his bosom. The wise Archbishop, finding his hypocrisy, said unto him, Father, this is not holiness, but nastiness; go neat; and cleanly, or else you get nothing of me. It would consequently have pleased this prelate, as ill, to see in his servants such extreme curiosity and niceness and tricking, that many use, straightening their Necks so with their Collars, that if they be to turn their Heads, on one side, they cannot do it, but they are forced, to turn their whole bodies, and by their trim, and embroideries, their clothes cannot be distinguished, from the clothes, which the gallant Ladies wear. And so, all disproportion doth ill become: As on the contrary, it beseems not a pleasing Courtier, to go poorly, or slovenly or carelessly, attired: never taking care, to button his Doublet, or to be trimmed, or to go in threadbare or torn Garments. To this purpose it is storied of a Lords younger son, Unto whom his Parents never gave any clothes, but such as his elder brother had left off, that both of them falling sick, and Chickens being provided for them to eat, at the meal time the tenderest Chicken was made choice of for his elder brother: the younger brother seeing it, spoke thus to his Parents, How comes it to pass, that I must have the tough Chicken, and the tender clothes? And for this speech, he was so esteemed, and got the favour of his Parents so much, that ever after that, they gave him as good clothes as his elder Brother.  
30. The clothes as we have said, must be according to the fashion that others of thy age do wear their garments in, and in the company of the grave Nobility, plumes, and springgs, (such as Soldiers wear in the Wars) are not seemly, to be worn, nor Embroideries, and laced Garments; much less arms, or buff Coates, which only in the War, do show well. For the curious Cavaliers, and Soldiers, that are courtly; when they are in the Cities, or Court, they lay aside their bravery and they be such Soldiers (for the most part) that never were out of the Land, or in the Wars, that do use to flaunt it, in this manner. And in Cities, and among quiet people, those that go armed, (usually) and with plumes in their Hats, are not pleasing, for they are like Nettles, or stinking weeds, in a Garden of sweet Herbs, and Flowers. And so are ill accepted of, by the Citizens, being distinguished from them, in their habits.  
31. An honourable person must not run through the street, nor make much haste, like him that goes of an errand, which is fitter for Lackayes, and footmen, then for people of worth to do: and besides this, they make themselves sweet, and put themselves out of breath, to no purpose, there being no necessity for them to do it.  
32. Yet ought not one to go so softly, and slowly, as Women, nor so soberly, as a Bride; nor when he walketh in haste, to go wreathing his body, or look smilingly upon every body, like little girls.  
33. Nor to lift up both his hands, clutched together, or to thrust out his Arms, which is, as if a man, were going to sow Corn with them.  
34. Some in their going lift up their feet like Horses, that start: and do lash out their Legs as far as if they drew them out of the midst of a Chest, or some deep Vessel: some drawle their Feet so, upon the ground, that a Cart makes but a little more noise, than they do: and some there be, that east one Foot out from them, ill favouredly, and others that rub one Leg against another, or go shaking and in a dancing fashion; all which things, are unseemly, and displeasing. For if (by chance) thy Horse goes with his mouth open, or show his tongue, though it take not from his goodness, yet for all this he is the less worth, for this ill favoured quality: if then bravery, and neatness, be esteemed so much, in unreasonable creatures, and even in things without sense, as for example, two houses built in one place, and with one charge, if one of them be more comely and more pleasant than the other, it is therefore accounted more worth: how much more than this beauty, and neatness is valued, by men, it is easy from hence to be understood.  
35. It is not good, when thou art at the Table, to scratch thyself; and a man must at that time, forbear to spit; and if he be forced to do it, it is seemly, for him to do it, very concealedly. I have heard one say, he hath seen a people, that do never spit, therefore we may well forbear it for a little space.  
36. We ought also, to beware of taking our Meat so greedily, that by that means, there be caused belching or any other unpleasing act, like as those do, who make so much haste, that they are forced, to fetch their breath strongly, and to puff, and blow, with trouble to all the company.  
37. Nor must we wipe our Teeth with our Napkin, or with our Finger, nor wash our mouth, and so spit out the washing thereof, that all may see thee.  
38. Nor after we are risen from the Table, to stand with a picktooth, in our mouth, or any other instrument we use to make them clean withal: like a Bird, that is carrying straws, or sticks to her nest; nor to stick them in our ears, like a Barber.  
39 And he that hath a cleanser for his Teeth, hanging about his neck, let him not draw it out; for besides that it is strange, to see a Gentleman, draw out of his bosom, an instrument, belonging to a Tooth-drawer, it argues him, (also) to have much thought of his belly. And according as he wears this, he may as well also wear a Spoon about his neck.  
40. We ought not, to lean with our Elbows, or Arms, upon the Table: nor to stuff our mouths, with Meat, so full, that our Cheeks, may be swollen (thereby) like a Bag-pipers, nor to show any action, by which we may make it appear, to another, that the Meat pleaseth us very much, or the Wine, which is the fashion of vintners, and of prattling Drunkards: nor to call to them, that are at the Table, in this manner; you eat nothing to day, or here is nothing you can eat, I pray eat of this. Which (me thinks) is not fitting, though he thou hast invited, be one of thy kindred, or very familiar friend: for though thereby, it seems thou hast a care of him, yet many times, it is an occasion, that thy Guest cannot use his own liberty, in his diet, and so may get hurt thereby. And therefore I hold it not fitting, to offer another any thing, that thou hast upon thy Trencher, except thou be a far better man, than he: so that, he that receives it, may take it, for an honour done unto him. For amongst equals, he that thus offers it, seems to make himself better than him, to whom he offers it; and it may offend him, that the other should thus (seem to) undervalue him. Yet notwithstanding this, thou must not refuse, or return, that which he presents thee withal, that thou mayst not seem, to take it ill, or to find fault with him.   

CHAPTER, 15. Of Compotations or Drink.  
An invitation to drinking by a strange word, we call Brindis, which is to Drink a health to one; of itself, it is an ill, and clownish fashion; and though some (in our Country,) do use it, and entertain it, yet we ought to avoid it; and if any invite thee to it, thou mayst refuse his invitation, and acknowledge thy weakness, giving him thanks, and accepting friendly the Wine, without Drinking it.  
These Drink, or Healths (for so we may interpret them) are said to have been much used (of old) in some parts of Greece, where I have herd say, there have been some, that were very famous for this manner of Drinking: it is said of a famous man, of that time, called Socrates, that he sat up boldly, a whole Night, to Drink with a famous Drinker, called Aristophanes: and the next morning, he drew a curious Geometrical figure, without missing a hair, in its true proportion, whence you may gather, the Wine had not stirred him: and the reason was, because he had so much used to adventure himself, in this bold way of Drinking. And though many show their strength, in drinking much, and use to drink for wagers, that they will not be made drunk, yet we ought to account of their victories, if they win but as of an infectious vice, and a brutish sin.  
3. Show not thyself troubled, at any thing thou canst not help, and if thou repentest of any thing thou hast done, let no body know it, That none may discover thy weakness; Yet by way of mirth, I will tell you a Jest that befell a Gallant, and it was not an ill one, of whom it is said, That being desired (by a Lady,) to come to a tilting in blue clothing, he promised to do it, but because he had no money, nor other thing to provide himself this livery withal, he sold a More that he highly esteemed, and having worn his blue clothes, and being afterwards sorry for the error, he had committed, His More broke this jest upon him, of black comes blue.  
None ought to put off his clothes before another, especially his shoes: for it may fall out, that the parts of thy body, which should be hid, may be discovered, to thy shame, and his, that sees it. Nor must thou comb thy Head, or wash thy Hands, before people of worth, but thou must do them in private, in thy lodging, and not in public, excepting that washing of the Hands, may be done before any Body, when thou art to sit down, to thy Meat, for in that case, though one be clean already, yet ought every one then to wash, that he that eateth with him, may have assurance of his cleanliness, nor must thou come before company, with the Cap thou wearest a nights, or with thy night gear on, or come out, tying or untying it, nor to speak to any thou seest in thy House, in the manner as many usually do. O sir, pray stay there a little; nor is it a good fashion at night to dress thyself, or to bind up thy Head, as I have seen some do, with as great curiosity, as if they were Women: except there be some extraordinary necessity for it.  
4. A new married Gentleman, used this curiosity, who being a smooth faced youth, without a Beard, being with his Wife, in his Chamber, a messenger came in thither, to look for him, that had a message to deliver to him: and being there, and seeing them both so trimmed up, and one as well as the other, without a Beard, he asked, which of their Worships was the Gentleman to whom he was sent to, that he might not be mistaken in his message? then the Husband put off his Night-gear, and resolved, no more to put it on, till he should have a Beard.  
5. There be some, that hold it for great ingenuity, often, to wreathe their mouths into divers fashions, to roll and glance with their eyes, to swell their Cheeks, like Bagpipes, to stand puffing, and blowing, and making of variety of Faces: and some others there be that are so discomposed when they do some certain things, that they put out their tongues, almost a hand-breadth, as they are in doing it: these should altogether avoid the doing of such things: as it is storied of the goddess Pallas, who was sometimes delighted in playing on the Cornet, till it happened, that (one day) playing thereon, for her pleasure, by a Fountain side, she beheld herself in the water, and beholding those new & strange faces, which she must necessarily make, while she played, was ashamed of herself, and presently broke the Cornet, in pieces. And indeed, it was well done of her, it not being an instrument, fitting for Ladies, nor yet for men, except for those that make it their profession. And that which shows ill in the Face does as bad in the rest of the Members, and therefore it becomes not a man, to show his Teeth, except he laugh, nor much to scratch the Beard, or to rub one Hand against another, nor to sigh much, or to seem much discontented, and to complain of his misfortune as many do, more out of a custom they have gotten, then for any just occasion they have to do it. Or to stand stretching, or rousing up himself: nor to cry out, woe, woe unto me, as I have seen some to do. Nor is it good to make a noise with the mouth, in token, that we wonder at, or dislike any thing: or to counterfeit a foul matter, for things counterfeit are not very far differing from truth. One ought not to laugh sleepily making ugly Faces, or to laugh more for custom then necessity. Nor must thou be much taken with thine own speech, or gestures, which is to commend thyself, for laughter belongs to him that is a hearer, and not a speaker. Thou must then take care of the carriage of thy body, especially when thou speakest, for it falls out, that some are so besotted upon their own discourse, that they regard nothing else. And some there are, that wag their Heads, or turn their eyes or shrink up their eye brows, to the middle of their foreheads, or else let them (skowlingly) hang down over their eyes. And some there are, that make wry mouths, others that spit, and even sprinkle their Faces, with whom they discourse; you may find others, that use such action, and quick motion with their Hands, as they talk that you would think, they were driving Flies away, all which customs, are very offensive. And as Pindar saith, every thing that is done sweetly and relisheth well, is performed in a free, and conformable way. What then may I say of him, that goes into company, with a Pen in his Ear, or a ruler in his Mouth, or of him, that lays one leg upon the Table, or that spits between his Fingers? and of innumerable other sottish cricks, which men may by observation find to be used? concerning which I here intent not to enlarge myself, because I know there be many, will say, I have said far too much. And so I conclude, giving thee to understand, that thou must not think that of these little things one can make but a small fault, but that by many little ones, a great one may at last be committed. And that the less they are, the more care thou hadst need to take to leave them, because they are so hardly discerned, nor doth he that doth them consider, that like as small Unthrifty expenses, which by their continuance do consume our estates before we are aware of them; Even so do these little faults, by their great number, spoil our good behaviour. Therefore they being of so great moment, we ought not to make sport of them.  
FINIS.   

Imprimatur Tho. Wykes.