Galateo of Master john Della Casa, archbishop of Beneuenta.  
Or rather, A treatise of the manners and behaviours, it behoveth a man to use and eschew, in his familiar conversation. A work very necessary & profitable for all Gentlemen, or other.  
First written in the Italian tongue, and now done into English by Robert Peterson, of Lincoln's Inn Gentleman.  Satis, si sapienter. 
Imprinted at London for Ralph Newberry dwelling in Fleetstreet a little above the Conduit.  
An. Do. 1576.   


HONI: SOIT: QVI: MAL: Y: PENSE:   blazon or coat of arms   

To the Right Honourable my singular good Lord, the Lord Robert Dudley, Earl of Leycester, Baron of Denbigh, Knight of the Honourable order of the Garter, Master of the Queen's majesties Horses, and one of her highness privy Counsel: Robert Peterson wisheth perfect felicity.  
LIghting of late (Right Honourable) upon this treatise of courtesy, penned by an experienced Italiam, & drawn for the profit thereof, in to so many languages: I thought his lessons fit for our store, & sought to make him speak English.  
Wise was that Cato, that ended both his learning, and living day together. And truly, Courtesy and Courtiership, be like Hypocrates twins, that laugh together, and grow together: and are so one affected, that who so divorceth them, destroyeth them. But yet, seeing more ready to condemn the lest trip then commend the best meaning, and knowing that the scar sticketh though good desert do hele the wound: & perceiving that Naews in arti culo pueri delectat Alcaeun, & Ro scij oculi perversissimi catulum, That is, many dote on their fancy: I durst not sand this, mine Heir & first fruits of my toil, to the view of the world, without the guard of your Patronage, wherein there is no presumption to teach them that are perfected, but may serve either as Simonides Characters, to establish memory, or as an Index, to point them to other behaviours enroled wheresoever. Spread therefore (I beseech your honour) the wings of wellyking over this work, which presseth to you, as not only the patron to protect, but the pattern to express any courtesy therein contained. Mine Author reporteth one Maestro Chiarissimo a perfect Mason, when he had described the finest precepts of his art, to have made his Regolo a pillar so exactly, as would bear the proof of every demonstration, thinking it learned speedily, where the mind and the eye, precept and experience joined hands together: whose steps I tread (though with better success than mine Author, who could not find a Regolo) hoping, when others shall come to try these precepts, not by show or sound, as fools do their Gold: but, by your behaviour, as by the touchstone: when they shall come, not token aloof, but at hand, to view your so singular demeanour, so civil, so courteous, as maketh you renowned abroad, and honoured at home: coveted of the Noblest, & wondered of the learnedst: when they shall in the glass of your courtesy, see the blots that blemish the dignity of their estate: when they compare these lessons with the Regolo, they shall herein see no less commodity, than was in Alcibiades Sileni (whereunto Socrates was compared) which though they bore not, in the front, any show of singularity: yet within, bore they pictures of excellent wit & delight. This work, if it please your honour to vouchsafe as a companion of ease to trace the paths, which you have already so well beaten, (which presumeth not to be guide for conduction) or if your honour deign at high leisure to peruse it (which is not cunningly but faithfully translated) I doubt not, but your conuntenance will so credit the Author, as will embolden him to press amongst the thickest throng of Courtiers: And herewithal beseech your honour, to accept the humble and dutiful meaning mind of him: who, not satisfied, till he might by some means give show of his thankful mind, for your honourable favours showed unto him, hath offered this small, though as faithful a gift as Sinaetes did to Cyrus: hoping, that your honour will take it as well in worth, as Artaxerxes did his poor Persians handful of water. Thus with hearty prayer, for the advancement of your estate, increase of honour, & attainment of perfect and perpetual felicity: I commend your Lordship, to the patronage and protection of the Almighty. Your Lordship's most humble to dispose and command.  
Robert Peterson.   

All Signior Ruberto Peterson, esortandolo A tradurre in Inghilese il Galateo.  

Ben posson dirsi auuenturate cart  
Quelle ch' el dotto, e gentle Casa spese:  
Quand' in breve discors' à insegnar press  
Del honesta creanza la prima arte.  
Poi che tanto si apprezz' in ogni part  
Quell ch' ei ne scrisse, e ch' ei si been intese  
E ch' ogn' un con maniére più cortese  
Dal bell trattato suo tosto si part.  
Esso à Donn' e donzelle, & cavallieri  
Non sol d' Italia: ma di Francia, e Spagna  
Di gentilezza mostr ' i modi veri.  
Venga per voi felice anco in Brettagna  
E parli Inglese ne Palazzi alteri.  
Del regn' invitto che l' Tamigi bagna.  
Francisco Pucci   

Le creanze, è i costumi,  
Tanto splendenti lumi,  
Ch' a gli huomini fan l' huom superiore,  
Eccoli tratti fore  
De l' Italico seno  
E piántati ne l' Anglico terreno.  
Or se Li goda ogniun, che porta amore  
A ' l suo decoro, é a ' l suo compiuto onore.  
Alessandro Citolini.    

Edovardus Cradoccus, S. Theologiae Doctor & Professor.  
Moribus quisquis rudis est ineptis,  
Nescit is vitam placidam tueri:  
Nemi ni gratus, sociusque nulli  
Charus habetur.  
Quisquis at pulchre simul & decore  
Se gerit, mentis studio repellens  
Rusticos mores, popularis ille  
jure videtur.  
Hoc Petersoni liber hic venustus  
Praestat, ostendens habitu decoro  
Possit ut quisque probitate splendens  
Vtilis esse.  
Idque dum magno satagit labore,  
Italum fecit patria loquela  
Hunc perornatas meus hic amicus  
Fundere voces.   

Thomas Drant, archdeacon in praise of this Book.  

An happy turn that Casa once did hatch,  
Of haviours choice this book in Ital' phrase:  
An archbishop, and writer without match  
In this he was, and peerless pight with praise.  
Such he his lore so well and wise doth lend:  
It hear ne read we can, but must amend.   

This book by Tiber, and by Po hath past,  
Through all Italia Towns and Country lands.  
Iberus, through thy Spanish coasts as fast  
It after yoade: and Gauls it held in hands,  
Through Rhenus' realms it spread in prosperous speed,  
To Lords and Ladies reaching comely reed.   

It Peterson, to Britan eyes doth bring  
Translated true and trim: and fit to frame  
Fair manners fine for men. This pretty Ring  
Bedecketh feat our life: discourse and game  
It ordereth apt with grace. The book is grave,  
Eke wise and good, for civil folk to have.    

To his friend Master Robert Peterson Gent.  
Thy Galateo (Peterson) doth shroud himself to long,  
What? shall it sleep Endymion's years? thou dost thy country wrong.  
She hath a child's part, Plato says, and with the Author cries,  
That both thy toil, and this her gain, may rear his skill to skies.  
What though thou think thy present small, for view of gallant ones?  
This little Diamond, shall out prise, a quarry full of stones.  
And Noble Cyrus (Man) will deign cold water in sinaeta's hand:  
Then fray not, if thy book, in pure, unfiled terms do stand.  
translators can not mount: for though, their arms with wings be spread,  
In vain they toil to take the flight, their feet are clogged with lead.  
This faith, that makes the Author, speak his own in language new:  
Renoumes the more, then if thou blazdst it out, in painted hue.  
For, serpents lurk in greenest grass, and with a garish gloss,  
The Strumpet pounts in pride, where matrons march in comely clotheses.  
Go publish it, and dread not scowling Momus poisoned spite.  
And though Archilochus jambes fly, or Theons taunts do bite:  
Think, winds do haunt the gallauntst trees, and Envy things of state.  
And lightning checks, ceraunia's tops, whom no hills else do mate.  
The best have borne the bob, and Zoiles brutes durst give the charge:  
But Zoile hangs, and Callisthen keeps in cage for talking large.  
And yet, words they be wind: but as erst Pliny's Draconite  
No tool could pierce or carve: or as the gem Chalazias height,  
Keeps cold, though it in Aetna fry, or Adiantons flowers  
Draws not a drop, though skies distill down everlasting showers:  
So good desert, doth challenge good report by reason's rate,  
Though often they bear the checks and taunts, they cannot take the mate.  
Yet seek Maecenas wings to shroud thy toil: Virgilio  
Found his Augustus: Ennie thou mayst find thy Scipio.  
This trump shall sound thy praise. Sir Phoebus golden rays shall turn  
To foggy mists, and seas that bear their icy crust, shall burn:  
And lumpish lout, with country shares shall salt Sea ●ome divide,  
And sow his grain in Africa Syrtes that wallow every tide,  
Before this work shall die: which neither loves thundering threat,  
Nor fiery flames shall waste, nor rusty, cankered age shall fret.  
Nolo Persium nolo Laelium.  
Your friend. I Stoughton. Student.   


THe vine is praised, that dainty grape doth give  
Although the fruit more please then wholesome be.  
Each fertile tree is favoured for the fruit,  
So is the herb that gallant is to see.   

If this be truth, he needs must merit well,  
That gives us grounds to guide our erring ways,  
And trades us truly in the golden maze,  
Where virtue grows and courtlike manners stays.   

Galateo first did frame this golden book  
In Ital land. From thence it went to Spain.  
And after came into the coasts of France.  
And now at last in England doth remain.   

The Author sure deserveth more renown,  
That so could spend his time for our behoof,  
Then my poor wit or cunning can recite,  
As thou thyself by reading shalt find proof.   

And as the Author merits passing well,  
So doth my friend deserve as great a meed:  
That make a work so hard to understand,  
So easy that each simple may it reed.   

I say no more: for (lo) it were in vain  
To praise good wine by hanging up a bush,  
The best will give (I hope) my friend his due,  
As for the bad, I way them not a rush.   
Thomas Browne of L. I Gent.   

To the Gentle Reader.  
Being very loath (Gentle Reader) to vary, of wilfulness, or security, from the truth of our written copy: we have thought it necessary, to make this compendious & exact retractation of errors escaped in this impression.   

Page▪ Lin. Error. Correction. 10 5 Passing passed. 17 18 fottering tottering. 26 23 neither never. 29 6 easy easily. 43 25 though then 46 25 our free our own free 55 5 so they bear they bear. 49 13 And To 56 26 worse were so 57 9 out one ibi. 19 bent lend 59 2 Tuttessale Tuttesalle ibi. 10 thou you 61 20 but it 62 17 do not I do not 63 26 in a mark note. 297 291 64 6 one the one or the 69 25 Gli frae Et gli fece. ibi. 29 Barbadomanie Barbadomani. 74 10 Grimaldi● Grimaldi. 75 9 I venture Il ventre. ibi. 26 did set did little set. 94 27 in the stone in stone. ibi. ibi. for singular for the singular 98 17 do pass 100 3 wits wills 104 26 easy much easier much 115 21 out every man out to every man. Marginal notes misplaced. Amended. 46 12 Bocc. Novel 6. Gior. 5. fol. 259 Against Admeral in the 15. line. ibi. 13 Peter the King of Arragon. Against Peter King of Arragon, line. 17 59 24 counseling and reproving. Against the 1. line in the 60. Page. 63 26 Bocc. Novel. 5 Gior. 6. fol. 292 Against Master Forese. line 12. 66 23 Bocc. Novel. 8. Gior. 9 fol. 430. Against Biondello in the 25. line.   

The treatise of Master John Della Casa, wherein under the person of an old unlearned man, instructing a youth of his, he hath talk of the manners and fashions, it behoves a man to use or eschew, in his familiar conversation: entitled Galateo, of fashions and manners.  
FOr as much as thou dost now enter the journey, whereof I have already run forth the better part (as thou seest) I mean the transitory way of this mortal life: I have determined (such is the Love I bear thee) to show all the dangerous straits thou must pass: For my experience maketh me fear, that walking that way thou mayst easily either fall, or by some means or other go astray. To the end thou mayst once, taught both by my instructions and experience, be able to keep the right way, aswell for the health of thy Soul, as the commendation and praise of the Honourable and Noble house thou dost come of. And because thy tender Age, is unfit (as yet) to receive more principal and higher precepts, reserving them for fitter time, I will begin to discourse of such things as many men will deem, perchance, but trifles: I mean what manner of Countenance and grace, behoveth a man to use, that he may be able in Communication and familiar acquaintance with men, to show himself pleasant, courteous, and gentle: which nevertheless is either a virtue, or the thing that comes very near to virtue. And albeit Liberality, or magnanimity, of themselves bear a greater praise, then, to be a well taught or manored man: yet perchance, the courteous behaviour and entertainment with good manners and words, help no less, him that hath them: then the high mind and courage, advanceth him in whom they be. For these be such things as a man shall need always at all hands to use, because a man must necessarily be familiar with men at all times, & ever have talk & communication with them: But justice, fortitude, and the other greater, and more noble virtues, are seldom put in ure. Neither is that liberal and noble minded man, caused every hour to do bountiful things: for to use it often, cannot any man bear the charge, by any means. And these valiant men that be so full of high mind and courage: are very seldom driven to try their valour & virtue by their deeds. Then as much as these last, do pass those first, in greatness (as it were) & in weight: so much do the other surmount these in number, & often occasion to use them. And, if I could well intent it, I could name you many, who, (being otherwise of little account) have been & be still, much esteemed & made of, for their cheerful & pleasant behaviour alone: which hath been such a help & advancement unto them, that they have gotten great preferments, leaving far behind them, such men as have been endowed with those other noble and better virtues, spoken of before. And as these pleasant & gentle behaviours, have power to draw their hearts & minds unto us, with whom we live: so contrariwise, gross and rude manners, procure men to hate and despise us. Whereby albeit the laws, have enjoined no pain for unmannerly & gross behaviours, as the fault that is thought but light (& to say a truth, it is not great) yet we see notwithstanding, that nature herself punisheth them with sharp & shrewd correction, putting them by this means, besides the company & favour of men. And truly even as great & foul faults, do much harm: so do these light, much hurt, or hurt at lest more often. For, as men do commonly fere the beasts that be cruel & wild, & have no manner of fear of some little ones, as the gnats and the flies, & yet by the continual noiaunce they found by them, complain themselves more of these than of the other: so it chanceth that most men do hate in manner asmuch, the unmannerly & untaught, as the wicked, & more. So that there is no doubt, but who so disposeth himself to live, not in solitary and desert places, as hermits, but in fellowship with men, and in populous Cities, will think it a very necessary thing, to have skill to put himself forth comely and seemly, in his fashions, gestures and manners: the lack of which parts doth make those other virtues lame, and little or nothing can they work to good effect, without other helps: where this civility and courtesy, without other relief or patrimony, is rich of itself, & hath substance enough, as a thing that standeth in speech and gestures alone.  
And that thou mayst now more easily learn the way unto it, thou must understand, it behoves thee, to frame and order thy manners and doings, not according to thine own mind and fashion: but to please those, with whom thou livest, and after that sort direct thy doings: And this must be done by Discretion and Measure. For who so applieth himself to much, to feed other men's humours, in his familiar conversation, and behaviour with men, is rather to be thought a jester, a juggler or flatterer, than a gentleman well taught and nurtured: As contrariwise, who so hath no care or mind to please, or displease, is a rude, untaught, and uncourteous fellow. For asmuch then, as our manners, have some pleasure in them when we respect other men, and not our own pleasure: if we diligently search forth what those things be, that most men do generally like or dislike: we shall in such sort wisely and easily find out, the means & ways, to choose and eschew, those fashions and manners, we are to leave or take, to live amongst men. We say then, that every act that offendeth any the common senses, or overthwarteth a man's will and desire, or else presenteth to the Imagination and conceit, matters unpleasant, & that likewise, which the mind doth abhor, such things I say be nought, and must not be used: for we must not only refrain from such things as be fowl, filthy, loathsome and nasty: but we must not so much as name them. And it is not only a fault to do such things, but against good manner, by any act or sign to put a man in mind of them. And therefore, it is an ill-favoured fashion, that some men use, openly to thrust their hands in what part of their body they list.  
Likewise, I like it as ill to see a Gentleman fettle himself, to do the needs of Nature, in presence of men: And after he hath done, to truss himself again before them. Neither would I have him (if I may give him council) when he comes from such an occupation, so much as wash his hands, in the sight of honest company: for that the cause of his washing, puts them in mind of some filthy matter that hath been done apart. And by the same reason, it is no good manner, when a man chanceth to see, as he passeth the way (as many times it happeneth) a loathsome thing, that will make a man to cast his stomach, to turn unto the company, & show it them. And much worse I like it, to reach some stinking thing unto a man to smell unto it: as it is many a man's fashion to do, with importunate means, yea, thrusting it unto their nose, saying: Foh, feel I pray you, how this doth stink: where they should rather say, smell not unto it: for it hath an ill sent. And as these and like fashions offend the senses, to which they appertain: so to grind the teeth, to whistle, to make pitiful cries, to rub sharp stones together, and to file upon Iron, do much offend the Ears and would be left in any case. Neither must we refrain those things alone, but we must also beware we do not sing, and specially alone, if we have an untunable voice, which is a common fault with most men: And yet, he that is of nature least apt unto it, doth use it most. So there be some kind of men, that in coughing or sneezing, 
Sneezing.  make such noise, that they make a man deaf to hear them: other some use in like things, so little discretion, that they spit in men's faces that stand about them: besides these there be some, that in yawning, bray and cry out like Asses. And yet such, with open mouth will ever say and do what they list, and make such noise, or rather such roaring, as the dumb man doth, when he striveth with himself to speak. All these yllfavoured fashions, a man must leave, as loathsome to the ear and the eye. And a man must leave to yawn much, 
Yawning.  not only for the respect of the matter I have said already, as that it seems to proceed, of a certain weariness, that shows that he that yawneth, could better like to be else where, then there in that place: as wearied with the company, their talk, and their doings. And sure, albeit a man be many times disposed to yawn, yet if he be occupied with any delight, or earnest matter to think upon: he shall have no mind to do it. But if he be lumpish & idle: it is an easy matter to fall into it. And therefore, When a man yawneth, in place where there be slothful and Idle folks, that have nothing to do, the rest, as you may see many times, yawn again for company by & by: as if he that yawned, had put them in mind to do it, which of themselves they would have done first, if he had not begun unto them. And I have many times heard learned and wise men say, that A yawner meaneth as much in Latin as a careless and Idle body. Let us then fly these conditions, that loath (as I said) the eyes, the Ears, & the Stomach. For in using these fashions, we do not only show that we take little pleasure in the company, but we give them occasion withal, to judge amiss of us: I mean that we have a drowsy & heavy noll, which makes us ill welcome, to all companies we come unto. And when thou hast blown thy nose, 
Blowing of the nose.  use not to open thy handkerchief, to glare upon thy snot, as if thou hadst pearls and Rubies fallen from thy brains: for these be slovenly parts, enough to cause men, not so much not to love us, as if they did love us, to unlove us again. As the Spirit of Labirintho doth testify (who soever he were that made it) who (to quench that heat wherewith Master john Boccase burned in desire and Love of his Lady unknown) tells, 
Look in the beginning of Corbaccio.  how she cowred her tail over the ashes, sitting upon her heels, and coughed and spatte out Collops.  
It is also an unmannerly part, for a man to lay his nose upon the cup where another must drink: 
Dropping of the Nose.  or upon the meat that another must eat, to the end to smell unto it: But rather, I would wish he should not smell at all, not not to that which he himself should eat and drink: because it may chance there might fall some drop from his nose, that would make a man to loathe it: although there fall nothing at all in deed. Neither, by mine advise, shalt thou reach to any man, that cup of wine whereof thyself hast first drunk and tasted: without he be more than a familiar friend unto thee. And much less must thou give any part of the pear or the fruit, which thou hast bitten in thy mouth before. And esteem not light of my talk, for that these things be of little account: For even light stripes (their number may be such) be able to slay fast enough.  
Now you shall understand, there was in Verona, a bishop a wise man, a learned & of a singular good wit by nature, whose name was Giouanni 
Giovanni.  Matheo 
Matheo.  Giberti: 
Giberti, bishop of Verona.  Among many good parts that were in him, he was very courteous & liberal, to all gentlemen & noble men that came unto him, doing them all the honour he could in his house, not with over much pomp and cost, but with convenient entertainment and measure, such as beseemed well a man of the Clergy. It chanced in his time, a noble gentleman called Count Richard, 
Count Richard.  passing that way, to spend a few days with the Bishop and his household together: which was thoroughly furnished with honest gentlemen and very well learned. And because they found him a Noble gentleman, courteous and well beseen in all good behaviour, they praised him much, and made much of him, save that one unmannerly fashion they much misliked in him. When the Bishop was advertised of it, consulting with some of his familiars about it (as he was a wise man in all his doings) strait they concluded, it should be necessary to let the Count have knowledge of it: albeit they feared, they should offend him. Upon this, the Count taking his leave, and ready to ride away the next morning, the Bishop called one of his servants unto him, (a man of good discretion) and gave him in charge to take his horse, to bear the Count company, some part of his way: And when he saw his time, after an honest sort, to tell him, that which they had determined between themselves. The same gentleman that had this charge, was a man well strooken in years, very learned, and marvelous pleasant, welspoken, comely, and had much frequented in his time, the Courts of great Princes: who was (perhaps) and is, called Galateo: 
Galateo.  at whose request and council, I first took in hand to set forth this present treatise, Riding with the Count, he found him pleasant talk enough, and passing from one matter to another, when he thought it time to return to Verona, in taking leave at parting, with a gentle & cheerful countenance, he used this speech unto him. Sir Count, my Lord yieldeth you many thanks for the honour you have done him, in that it hath pleased you to vouchsafe his poor house: and that he may not be unthankful, for this your great courtesy showed unto him, he hath given me in charge, that I must leave a present with you in his behalf: and he sends it unto unto you with earnest request, that you please to take it in good worth: and this is the gift. You are a goodly gentleman, and the best mannered man my Lord hath ever seen: So that very heedfully beholding your behaviours, and particularly considering them all, he findeth no one that is not very comely and commendable, only one unseemly trick alone excepted, which you make with your lips and your mouth together, feeding at your meat with a certain strange 'noys, unpleasant to all men that hear it. This my Lord willed me to tell you, and prays you to endeavour yourself to leave it, and withal to accept in lewe of a better present, this loving admonition and council of his: for he is sure, there is none in the world, would make you the like present. The Count (that never wist of his fault till now) hearing himself reproved, changed his countenance a little, but (as a man full of stomach enough) taking heart at grass, he said: Tell your Lord, that if all the gifts that men want to give each other, were such as his, men should be much more rich than they are. And for his great courtesy and liberality to me, give him many thanks I pray you, and let him be sure, I will not fail from henceforth to mend my fault, and God be with you.  
Now what shall we think this Bishop, his modest and honest company about him would say, 
Greedy feeding.  if they saw these whom we see other while, (like swine with their snouts in the wash, all begroined) never life up their heads nor look up, and much less keep their hands from the meat, and with both their cheeks blown (as if they should sound a trumpet, or blow the fire) not eat but raven: who, besmearing their hands, almost up to their elbows, so bedaub that napkins, 
filing the napkins.  that the clothes in the places of easement, be other while cleaner. And to mend these slovenly manners, be not ashamed, many times with these filthy napkins, to wipe away the sweat that trickleth and falleth down their brows, 
Sweeting with feeding.  their face and their neck (they be such greedy guts in their feeding) and otherwhile to, (when it comes upon them) spare not to snot their sniveld nose upon them. Truly these beastly behaviours and fashions, deserve not alone, to be thrust out of this noble bishop's house, that was so pure and clean: but to be thoroughly banished all places, where any honest men should come. Let a man than take heed, he do not begrease his fingers so deep, that he befyle the napkins to much: for it is an ill sight to see it: neither is it good manner, to rub your greasy fingers upon the bread you must eat.  
The servants that be appointed to wait upon the table, must not (in any wise) scratch and rub their heads, 
Precepts for servants.  nor any part else in the sight of their Lord & Master: nor thrust their hands in any those parts of their body that be covered, not not so much as make any proffer: as some careless fellows do, holding their hands in their bosom, or cast under the flaps of their coats behind them. But they must bear them abroad without any suspicion and keep them (in any case) washed & clean without any spot of dirt upon them. And they that carry the dishes, or reach the cup, must beware at that time, they do not spit, cough or neese: for in such doings, Suspicion is as great, and offendeth asmuch, as the very deed itself: and therefore, servants must foresee, they give no cause to Masters to suspect: For that which might chance, annoyeth asmuch, as if it had chanced indeed.  
And if thou do roost any fruit, or make a toast at the fire, thou must not blow of the ashes, (if there be any) for it is an old saying, that, wind was never without water. But thou must lightly strike it upon the the plate, or after some such sort or other beat of the ashes. Thou shalt not offer thy handkerchief to any man to use it, albeit, it be very clean washed: for he to whom thou dost offer it, can not (perhaps) away with it, and may be to curious to take it.  
When a man talketh with one, 
Breathing in a man's face.  it is no good manner to come so near, that he must needs breath in his face: for there be many that can not abide to feel the air of another man's breath, albeit there come no ill savour from him. These and like fashions, be very unseemly, and would be eschewed, because their senses, with whom we acquaint ourselves, cannot brook nor bear them.  
Now, let us speak of those things which (without any hurt or annoyance to the senses) offend the minds of most men, before whom they be done. You shall understand, that The appetites of men, (through a natural instinct and inclination) beverie strange and divers: Some be choleric & hasty, & may not be satifsied with out revenge: other do give themselves clean over, to pamper the belly: this man sets his delight in lust and sensuality: that man is carried away with his covetous desires: and many such appetites more there are, to which man's mind is too subject: but you shall not in any company, easily judge or discern between them, where and in what, they be most affected. For, these matters do not consist in the manners, the fashions and speech of men: but rest in some other point. They seek to purchase that which the benefit of mutual conference may yield them, & that do (as I ween) good will, honour, comfort and pleasure, or some other thing like unto these: & therefore we must neither say or do the thing, that may give any sign of little loving or esteeming them, we live withal.  
So that, it is a rude fashion, (in my conceit) that some men use, to lie lolling a sleep in that place, where honest men be met together, of purpose to talk. For his so doing, shows that he doth not esteem the company, and little reckoneth of them or their talk. And more than that, he that sleepeth (and specially lying at little ease, as he must) wonts (for the most part) to do some fowl thing, to behold, or hear: and many times they awake sweeting and drivelling at the mouth. And in like manner, to rise up where other men do sit and talk, and to walk up and down the chamber, it is no point of good manner. Also there be some that so buskell themselves, reach, stretch and yawn, writhing now one side, and then another, that a man would ween, they had some fever upon them: A manifest sign, that the company they keep, doth weary them.  
Likewise do they very ill, that now & then pull out a letter on't of their pocket, to read it: as if they had great matters of charge, and affairs of the common weal committed unto them. But they are much more to be blamed, that pull out their knives or their scisers, and do nothing else but pair their nails, as if they made no account at all of the company, and would seek some other solace to pass the time away. These fashions to, must be left, that some men use, to sing between the teeth, or play the drum with their fingers, or shoofle their feet: For these demeanours show that a body is careless of any man else.  
Besides, let not a man so sit that he turn his tail to him that sitteth next to him: nor lie fottering with one leg so high above the other, that a man may see all bore that his clothes would cover. For such parts be never played, but amongst those to whom a man needs use no reverence. It is very true, that if a gentleman should use these fashions before his servants, or in the presence of some friend of meaner condition than himself: it would betoken no pride, but a love and familiarity.  
Let a man stand uprightly of himself, and not lean or loll upon another man's shoulder: and when he talketh, let him not pounche his fellow with his elbow, (as many be wont to do) at every word they speak, saying: Did not I say true Sirrah, Master. N. It is Master. H. And still they be jotting with their elbow.  
I would have every man well apparelled, 
Apparel.  meet for his age and calling: for otherwise, they seem to have men in contempt that be better attired then themselves.  
And therefore the Citizens of Milan, were wont to take it done of spirit unto them, when any gentleman of Venice walked up & down their city in his coat, as though he thought himself in the country. And a man's apparel, would not be made of fine clothe alone: but he must frame it, all that he may, to the fashions that other men wear, and suffer himself to be lead by common use: although (perchance) it be, and seem to be less commodious, less gallant, and less fair in show, than his old.  
And if all men else, do wear their heads pulled: it shallbe an ill sight for thee alone, to wear a long bush of hair. And where other men, make much of their beards and wear them long: thou shalt not do well to cut thine of, or shave it. For that wear to be overthwart in every thing: which thou must (in any case) beware of, except necessity require it, as thou shalt hear hereafter. For this singularity, beyond all other ill customs, makes us generally spited of all men. Thou must not then go against common custom in these things, but use them measureably: that thou mayst not be an odd man a lone in a country: that shall wear a long Gown down to the foot, where other men wear them very short, little beneath the waste. For as it hapens to him, that hath a very crabbed ill-favoured face, (I mean such, as is more hard and sour than most men's be, for nature doth mostly shape them well in most men) that men will wonder and (with a kind of admiration) gape most upon him: So fares it with them that attire themselves, not as most men do: but as they are egged by their own fantastical heads, with long hear spread down to their shoulders, their beards short and shaven, and wear quaives or great caps after the flanders fashion: that all men do gaze upon them, as wondering at such, whom they ween have taken upon them, to conquer all countries wheresoever they come. Let your apparel then, be very well made, and fit for your body: for they that wear rich and coastly garments, but so ill-favouredlyly shaped, that a man would ween the measure had been taken by another: give us to judge one of these twain, that either they have no regard or consideration how to please or displease: or else have no skill to judge of measure or grace, or what doth become them.  
Such manner of people, with their rude behaviours and fashions, make men with whom they live, suspect, they do esteem them but light. And that causeth them worse welcome wheresoever they come and ill beloved amongst men.  
But there be some besides these, that deserve more than bore suspicion: their deeds and their doings be so intolerable, that a man cannot abide to live amongst them by any means. For they be ever a let, a hurt and a trouble to all the company, they be never ready: ever a trimming: never well dressed to their minds. But when men be ready to sit down to the table, the meat at the board, and their hands washed: then they must writ or make water, or have their exercise to do: saying, It is too early: we might have tarried a while: what haste is this, this morning? And thus they disquiet all the company, as men, caring for themselves alone & their own matters, without consideration in the world of other men. Besides this, they will in all things be preferred above others: they must have the best bed, and best chamber: they must take upon them the highest place at the table, and be first set and served of all men. And they be so dainty and nice, that nothing pleaseth them, but what they themselves devise: they make a sour face at any thing else. And they be so proud minded, that they look that men should wait upon them when they dine, ride, sport, or solace themselves.  
There be other so furious, testy & wayward, that nothing you do can please them: and what soever is said they answer in choler, and never leave brawling with their servants, and railing at them, and continually disturb the company with their unquietness: using such speeches: Thou cauledst me well up this morning. Look here how clean thou hast made these pinsons. Thou beast, thou didst wait well upon me to Church. It were a good deed to break thy head. These be unseemly and very fowl fashions: such as every honest man will hate to death. For, albeit a man's mind were full fraught with all humility, and would use these manners, not upon pride or disdain, but upon a reckless care, not heeding his doings, or else by means of ill custom: yet notwithstanding, because his outward doings, would make men think him proud: it cannot be chosen, but all men would hate him for it. For, Pride 
Pride.  is none other thing, then to despise and disdain another. And as I have said from the beginning: Each man desireth to be well thought of, Albeit there be no valour or goodness in him.  
It is not long, since there was in Rome a worthy gentleman, of singular good wit and profound learning, whose name was Vbaldino Bandinelli. 
Vbaldino Bandinelli.  This gentleman was wont to say, that as oft as he went or came from the Court, although the streets wear ever full of gallant Courtiers, of Prelates and Noble men, and likewise of poor men, and people of mean and base condition: yet he thought he never encountered any, that was either better or worse than himself. And without doubt he could meet with few, that might be compared in goodness to him: respecting his virtues, that did excel beyond measure. But we must not always in these things measure men by the Elne: We must rather way them in the miller's schools, then in the goldsmiths balance. And it is a courteous part, readily to receive them in to favour: not because they be worth it: but as men do with coins, because they be currant,  
To go further, we must do nothing in their sight whom we desire to please, that may show we covet, rather to rule and to reign, then to live in a familiar equality amongst them. For haughtiness of heart and ambitious disposition, as it kindleth an ill opinion: so it ministereth much cause of contempt, which in conclusion will so work against thee, that thou shalt be clean cast out of honest company. But our doings must rather bear a sign and show of reverence, 
A lowly mind.  meekness, & respect to the company, in which we fellowship ourselves. So that, what so ever is done in meet and convenient time, may haply deserve no blame: but yet in respect of the place and the person, it may be reproved well: although for itself, the matter deserve no rebuke. As to brawl and to rail at your servants (which we have talked of before) but much more to beat them. Because these parts, are asmuch as to reign and to rule: which no honest and civil gentleman will use, in presence of them he doth respect with any reverence or courtesy. Besides this, the company is much offended with it, and their meetings are broken, and especially, if it be done at the table, which is a place of solace and mirth, and not of brawl and scolding. So that I must needs commend Currado Gianfigliazzi for his civil behaviour in that he multiplied no words with Chichibio to trouble his guests: 
Boccacc●o. Cior. 6. novel. 4. fo. 194.  albeit he deserved to be sharply punished for it, when he would sooner displease his master then Brunetta. And yet if Currado had made less ado about it then he did: it had been more his praise. For than he should never have needed, to call upon God, to witness his threatenings so much as he did.  
But to return to our matter: it is not good for a man to chide at the table for any cause. 
Chiding at the Table.  And if thou be angry, show it not, nor make no sign of thy grief, for the reason I have told thee, and specially if thou have strangers with thee: because thou haste called them to be merry, and this will make them sad. For, as the sharp and tart things that other men do feed upon in thy sight, do set thy teeth likewise on edge: so to see other men vexed and out of quiet, it maketh us unquiet too. I call them FROMWARD 
Fromewarde.  people, which will in allthings be overthwart to other men: as the very word itself doth show. For, Fromewarde, signifieth asmuch, as sheared against the wool. Now, how fit a thing this frowardness 
frowardness.  is, to win the good will of men, and cause men to wish well unto them: that you yourself may easily judge, in that it consisteth in overtwharting other men's desires: which quality never maintaineth friendship, but maketh friends become foes. And therefore let them that desire to be well thought of and welcome amongst men, endeavour themselves to shun this fault: For it breeds no good liking nor love, but hatred and hurt. I would council you rather to measure your pleasures by other men's wills: where there shall come no hurt nor shame of it: and therein always to do & to say, more to please other men's minds and fancies, than your own.  
Again, you must be neither clownish nor lumpish: 
clownish and Lumpish  but pleasant and familiar. For there should be no odds, between the Mystell and the Pungitopo: but that the one is wild: the other grows in gardens. And you must understand, that he is pleasant and courteous: whose manners be such in his common behaviour, as practise to keep, and maintain him friendship amongst them: where he that is solleyne and wayward, makes himself a stranger wheresoever he comes: a stranger, I mean, as much as a foreign or alien borne: where contrariwise, he that is familiar & gentle, in what place so ever he comes: is taken for a familiar and friend with all men. So that it shallbe necessary for a man, to use himself to salute, to speak, and to answer after a gentle sort, and to behave himself with all men so: as if he were their countryman borne, & of their old acquaintance. Which some can ill skill to do, that neither give a man a good countenance: easily say, Not, to all things: never take in good worth, the honour and courtesy that men do unto them (like to the people I spoke of before, rude and barbarous) never take delight in any pleasant conceits or other pleasures: but ever refuse it all, what soever is presented or offered unto them. If a man say: Sir, such a one willed me to commend him unto you: They answer strait: what have I too do with his greetings? And if a man say: Sir, such a one your friend, asked me how you did: They answer again in choler: Let him come feel my pulse. These carterlyke and clownish answers and manners, and the men themselves that do use them: would be chased and hunted away, out of all good and honest company.  
It ill becomes a man when he is in company, to be sad, musing, 
Museing.  and full of contemplation. And albeit, it may be suffered perchance in them that have long beaten their brains in these Mathematical studies: which are called (as I take it) the Liberal Arts: yet without doubt it may not be borne in other men. For, even these studious fellows, at such time, when they be so full of their Muses: should be much wiser to get themselves alone.  
Again, 
Nycenes and Deyntines.  to be to nice or to dainty: it may not be abiden, and specially in men. For, to live with such kind of people: is rather a slavery then pleasure. And sure there be some such, so soft & tender: that to live and deal with such people, it is as dangerous: as to meddle with the finest and bryttelest glass that may be: So much they are afraid of every light touch. And they willbe as testy and froward, if you do not quickly and readily salute them, visit them, worship them, and make them answer: as some other body would be, for the greatest injury that can be done unto them. And if you do not give them all the due reverence that may be: they will presently take a thousand occasions to quarrel and fall out with you. If you chance to Master him, and leave out his title of Honour or worship: he takes that in dougeon, and thinks you do mock him. And if you set him beneath as good a man as himself at the table: that is against his honour. If you do not visit him at home at his house: than you know not your duty. These manner of fashions and behaviours, bring men to such scorn and disdain of their doings: that there is no man, almost, can abide to behold them: for they love themselves to far beyond measure, and busy themselves so much in that, that they find little leisure to bethink themselves to love any other: which (as I have said from the beginning) men seek to find in the conditions and manners of those with whom they must live: I mean, that they should apply themselves to the fancies & minds of their friends. But to live with such people, so hard to please: whose love and friendship once won, is as easy lost, as a fine scarf is lightly carried away with the wind: that is no life but a service: and, besides that it yieldeth no pleasure, it gives a man great disdain and horror. Let us therefore leave these soft and wanton behaviours to women.  
In speech a man may fault many ways. 
Talk and Communication.  And first in the matter itself that is in talk, which may not be vain or filthy. For, they that do hear it, will not abide it: as the talk they take no pleasure to hear: but rather scorn the speech and the speaker both. Again, a man must not move any question of matters that be to deep & to subtle: because it is hardly understood of the most. And a man must warily foresee, that the matter be such, as none of the company may blush to hear it, or receive any shame by the tale. Neither must he talk of any filthy matter, albeit a man would take a pleasure to hear it: for, it ill becomes an honest gentleman, to seek to please, but in things that be honest. Nei-Neither in sport nor in earnest, 
Holy things must not be ●easted at. Cicero. Mala & impia est Consuetudo, contra deos disputandi: sive serio sit, ●iue dissimulate.  must a man speak any thing against God or his Saints, how witty or pleasant so ever the matter be. Wherein, the company that Giovan Boccaccio hath brought to speak in his novels and tales, hath faulted so much: that me thinks every good body, may justly blame them for it. And you must think It is not only a token of great detestation & Impiety in a man, to talk in jesting wise of God: but he is a wicked & sinful man, that will abide to hear it. But you shall find some such good men, as will fly asmuch as the plague, the company of such as talk so unreverently, and without respect, of the incomprehensible Majesty of God. And we must not alone speak religiously of him: but in all our talks we must avoid what we may, that our words may not witness against our life and our works. For men do hate their own faults otherwhile, when they see them in another.  
Likewise it is unsavoury, 
Talk out of time.  to talk of things out of time, not fitting the place and company: although the matter itself, and spoken in time, were otherwise both good and godly. We must not then rehearse Friars sermons to young gentlewomen, when they are disposed to sport themselves: as that good man did, that dwells not far hence, near to S. Brancatio. And in feasts & at table, we must beware we do not rehearse any sorrowful tales, nor put them in mind of wounds, of sickness, of deaths, of Plagues, or of other doleful matters. But if another man chance to move such matter: it shallbe good, after an honest and gentle sort, to exchange that talk, and thrust in some other, that may give them more delight and pleasure to hear it. Albeit, not long since I heard it said to a worthy gentleman our neighbour, that Men have many times more need to weep then to laugh. And for that cause he said, these doleful tales, which we call Tragedies, were devised at first, that when they were played in the Theatres (as at that time they were wont) they might draw fourth tears out of their eyes, that had need to spend them. And so they were by their weeping, healed of their infirmity. But albeit it be good to do so: yet it will il become us to drive men into their dumps: especially where they be met to feast and to solace themselves, & not to mourn. For if there be any, that hath such weeping disease: it will be an easy matter to cure it, with strong Mustard or a smoky house. So that, in no wise, I can excuse our friend Philostrato, 
Bocc. G●or. 4. fol 183. In the beginning.  for his work that he made full of dole and of death, to such a company as desired nothing more than mirth. We must the rather use silence, than discourse of such sorrowful matters.  
And they do as much amiss too, that never have other thing in their mouth, than their children, their wife, and their nurse. My little boy, made me so laugh yesterday: hear you: you never saw a sweeter babe in your life: my wife is such a one, Cecchina told me: of troth you would not believe what a wit she hath: There is none so idle a body, that will either intent to answer, or abide to hear such foolish pryttle prattle. For it irks a man's ears to hearken unto it.  
There be some again, so curious in telling their dreams 
Dreams.  from point to point, using such wonder and admiration withal, that it makes a man's heart ache to hear them: & specially because (for the most part) they be such kind of people: as it is but labour lost to hear, even the very best exploits they do, when they be most awake, and labour most to show their best. Wherefore we must not trouble men with so base and absurd matter as dreams be: especially such foolish things, as most times men have. Albeit I have heard say many times, that wisemen in times past, have left in their books many sorts of dreams, containing matters of deep knowledge and understanding: it followeth not yet, that we, the unlearned and common sort of people, should use it in our familiar and common talk. And sure of all the dreams that ever I heard (albeit I hardly listen to any) in my conceit, I never heard any, that was worth the hearing but one alone, which the good Master Flaminio Tomarozzo 
M. Flaminio Tomarozzo.  a gentleman of Rome did see, a man not unlearned and gross: but full of knowledge and singular wit. And thus was his dream, This gentleman Master Flaminio Tomarozzo, thought he was sitting in a very rich Apothecary's shop, a near neighbour of his. And after he had been there a while (what soever the occasion was) the people were up in a roar one a sudden, and fell to spoiling of all that was in the shop. One took on Electuary, another a Confection, some one thing, some another, and presently eat it up all: So that within a while, there was neither virel glass, ertherne pot, wooden box, nor any pot else of drugs, that was not emptied broken, or overthrown. But amongst them all, there was one very small glass, full to the top of very clear water, which many did smell to, but no man would taste. He stood not there long, but there came in a tall man, an aged and very grave man, to look unto. This Aged father beholding this unfortunate Apothecary's boxes and pots, and finding some emptied, some overthrown, and the better part broken: at length casting his eye aside, he chanced to see the small glass I spoke of before, and setting the same to his mouth, he drank it up so clean: that he left not one drop. And this done, he went from thence as the rest did before. Master Flaminio was abashed and marveled much at this matter. And therefore turning to the Apothecary he said unto him: Sir, who is this that came last? and why did he drink up so savourly, all the water in that little glass, which all the rest refused. To whom the Apothecary seemed to make this answer. My son, this is the Lord God. And the water, that he alone drank, and all the rest refused & would not taste as you saw: was discretion: which, you know well enough men will not taste of, by any means.  
Such kind of dreams, I hold well a man may rehearse, and hear with much pleasure and profit. Because they do more resemble, the Cogitations & thoughts of an awakened mind: or better, I should say, the virtue sensitive: then the visions and sights of a drowsy head. But those other dreams, without shape, fashion or sense: (which the most part of such men as we are, be wont to have) would be forgotten clean, and lost with our sleep. Howbeit, I do not deny but the dreams of good men and learned, be better and wiser than theirs of the wicked and more unlearned sort.  
And albeit a man would ween, there can be nothing in the world more vain than Dreams: yet there is one thing more light than they, and that are Lies. 
Lies.  For there is yet some shadow, and, as it were, a certain feeling of that which a man hath seen in his dream. But there is neither shadow nor body of a truth in a lie. And therefore we should less busy men's ears, and their minds to hearken to lies, then to dreams, because they be otherwhile received for truths. But time, in the end, discovers such pelf: that liars, not only do gain no credit, but no man vouchesafes to hearken unto them, in otherwise (as the men that carry no substance in their words) then if they had said nothing or blown a little wind. 
Men have a pleasure to lie otherwhile.  And you shall understand, there be many that use to lie, not minding any ill purpose in it, or to make their own peculiar profit by it, to hurt other men or shame their neighbour: only they do it, for a pleasure they take to tell a lie: as men that drink not, all for thirst: but for a pleasure they take, to taste of the wine. Other some do tell lies, to make a vain glorious boasting of themselves: vaunting and telling in a bravery, what wonderful exploits they have done, or bearing men in hand, they be great doctors and learned men.  
In Silence too, after a sort, without speech, 
Lesinges and counterfeitings.  a man may tell a losing: I mean with his gestures and grace: as some you shall see, that being of mean, or rather base condition and calling, use such a solemnity in all their doings, and march so stately, and speak with such a prerogative, or rather discourse like parliament men, setteling themselves, as it were, in a place of judgement, proudly prying about them like Peacocks: that it is a very death to behold them.  
And some such you shall find, that although they be cumbered with no more wealth then easily serves their turn: yet will they never appear unless their necks be laden with chains, their fingers full of rings, their caps beset with agletts, and every other part bespangled, as though they would defy the King of Castiglio. Whose behaviours be full of follies and vain glory, which cometh of pride, growing of vanity itself. So that we must eschew these faults, as foul and unseemly things. You shall understand, in many Cities, and those of the best, the laws do not suffer, that rich men should go much more gorgeously attired, than the poor. For poor men think they have a wrong: when men seem, but in countenance alone, as it were Imperiously to reign over them. So that we must carefully beware we fall not into these follies.  
Neither must a man boast of his Nobility, his Honour or riches: much less vaunt of his wit, 
Glorious boasting and braggeing.  or gloriously rehearse to much of his deeds & valiant Acts, or what his Ancestors have done, nor upon every occasion, fall in rehearsal of such things, as many men do. For in such case, a man would ween, they seek, either to contend with the Company, (if they be, or will take upon them to be, as good Gentlemen, & of as much wealth and worthiness, as they be:) or else to overcrow them, (if they live in meaner condition and calling, than they do) And as it were to upbraid them, their poor and base condition of life.  
A man must neither embase, nor exalt himself to much out of measure: 
Exalting a●d embasing.  but rather bury in silence some part of his merits, then arrogate to much unto him. Because Goodness itself, when it exceedeth much is ever envied of some. And you may be sure, they that embase themselves thus beyond measure, refusing that worship and honour that is but duly their own of very right: show more pride in this contempt, than they that usurp those things, that are not so due unto them. So that a man perchance, might say, Giotto hath not deserved those Commendations that some believe, 
〈◊〉 Novel. 5 Go●r. 6. fo. 29●  in that he refused to be called Master: being not only a master but without doubt a singular and cunning master in his art in those days. But be it blame, or praise that he deserved: it is most sure, he that refuseth that which every man else doth hunt for: showeth therein, he reproveth or contemneth the common opinion of men. And, to contemn the honour & renown, which other men gape for so much, is but to glory and magnify himself above other. For asmuch as there is no man (without he be mad) will refuse and reject things that be dear and of price: unless he be such, as hath plenty and store of those dear and dainty things.  
We must not boast of those good things that be in us, nor set them to light: for in the one, we do upbraid men their faults: In the other, we scorn to much their virtues. But it behoveth every man to speak his own praise, as little as he may. And if occasion drive him unto it: it shallbe good, modestly to speak the truth, as I have told you before.  
And therefore, they that desire to do men a pleasure: must needs leave one fault, that is to common with all men: they must not show themselves so afraid and fearful to speak their minds, when a man doth ask their advise. For, it is a deadly pain to hear them, & specially if they be men, in the judgement of the world, of good understanding and wisdom. What a fetching about is this, ere they come to that matter? Sir I beseech you pardon me, if I do not say well. I will speak like a gros man as I am: & grossly according to my poor skill. And Sir, I am sure you will but mock me for it. But yet, to obey you: & they draw their words forth so long, & put themselves to such pain: that, while these ceremonies be a doing, the hardest question that is, might have been determined with fewer words and shorter time: because they cannot get out of these protestations, when they be in.  
They be also very tedious to men, and their conversation & manners are very troublesome: who show too base and abject a mind in their doings. And where the chiefest and highest place, 
abject Mind.  is apparently due unto them: they will ever creep down to the lowest. And it is a spiteful buisynes to thrust them up: For they will strait jog back again, like a resty jade, or a Nag that startleth a side at his shadow. So that, there is much a do with them, when we meet at a door. For they will not (for all you can do) in any case enter before you, but so traverse their ground, go ba●ke, and so fray and defend with their arms and their hands: that at every third step, a man must be ready to wage battle with them: and thus they break of, all solace and pleasure, and otherwhile, the buisynes they meet about.  
And therefore, Ceremonies, 
Ceremonies.  which we name, as you hear, by a strange term, as lacking a word of our own, because our elders, having no knowledge of those superstitious fashions, could not well give them a proper name. Ceremonies, I say, (in my judgement,) differ not much from lies & dreams, for their own very vainess itself. So that we may couple and join them together in this our treatise, sith occasion serves so fit to speak of them here, As a good man hath often showed me: those solemnities that church men do use at their Altars, and in their divine service both to God and his holy things, are properly called Ceremonies: but after, men did begin, to reverence each other with curious entertaynements, more than were convenient, and would be called masters and Lords, amongst themselves, yielding bending, and bowing their bodies, in token of reverence one to another, uncovering their heads, using high titles and Styles of honour, and kissing their hands as if they were holly things: some body, by like considering all these things well, and finding these new found curious follies without any name: thought good to christian and call them Ceremonies, but sure in a jest as I take it: as to be merry and make good cheer, we term it in sport, a triumph: which custom, no doubt, took not his being at us, but else where, as barbarous & strange: and not long since, from whence I know not, transported into Italy: whose deeds being wretched, and effects base and vile, hath gotten increase and honour, in vain words alone, and superfluous titles.  
Ceremonies then, if we consider well their intents that use them: are but vain shows of honour and reverence, towards him to whom they be done: framed of semblance and words touching their titles and courteous offers. I say vain: In that we honour men to their face, whom we reverence not in deed, but otherwhile contemn. And nevertheless, because we may not go against custom, we give them these titles: The most honourable Lord such a one: the Noble Lord such a one. And so otherwhile we offer them our humble service: whom we could better unserve then serve, & command then do them any duty.  
Then not Lesinges alone, but also Treacheries and Treasons, shallbe called Ceremonies. But because these words and these titles above rehearsed, have lost their strength: and waste, (as a man may say of Iron) their temper, with such continual occupying of it as we do use: we must not so precisely way them as other words, nor so strictly construe the meaning of them. And, that this is true, that which always happens to all men, doth show it plain enough. For if we meet with a man, we never saw before: with whom, upon some occasion, it behoves us to talk: without examining well his worthiness, most commonly, that we may not offend in to little, we give him to much, and call him Gentleman, and otherwhile Sir, although he be but some Souter or Barbar, or other such stuff: and all because he is apparelled neat, somewhat gentleman like.  
And as men in times past, 
Titles by Privilege.  were wont to have under the Privilege of the Pope & Emperor, peculiar & distinct titles of honour, which might not be untouched, without doing wrong to the privileged men: nor again attributed & given without a scorn, to them that were no such privileged persons: So at this day, we must more freely use those titles, and the other significations of honour, like to those titles: because Custom the mightiest Lord hath largely therewith, privileged men of our time.  
This use and custom, though so fair and gallant without, is altogether vain within, and consisteth in semblance without effect, & in words without meaning. But this notwithstanding, 
Custom must not be altered  it is not lawful for us to change it: but rather, because it is not our fault, but the fault of our time, we are bound to follow it: but yet we must discreetly do it.  
So that we are to note, 
The end why ceremonies be used.  that Ceremonies are used, either for a Profit, or for a Vanity, or for a Duty. 
Ceremonies for profit.  And every lie that is told for a man's private profit: is a deceit, a sin, and a dishonest part: for, in what so ever it be, A man can never honestly lie.  
And this is a common fault with flatterers, that counterfeit themselves to be our friends, and apply themselves ever to our desires, what soever they be: not because we would have it so, but to the end we should do them some pleasure, for it. And this is not to please us, but to deceive us. And albeit this kind of fault be, peradventure, by reason of custom sufferable: yet notwithstanding because of itself, it is fowl and hurtful, it ill becomes a gentle man to do it. For it is no honesty to seek a pleasure by the hurt of another. And if lies and false flatteries, may be termed Ceremonies (as I have said before:) so often, as we use them for respect of our gain & profit: so often we do hazard our good name and credit: so that this consideration alone, might move us well to leave all Ceremonies, and use them no more.  
It resteth now that I speak of those that be done of Duty, 
Dutiful ceremonies.  and of those that be done of a Vainess. As touching the first, We must not leave them undone in any wise. For he that faileth to do them, doth not only displease, but doth a wrong to him, to whom they be due. And many times it chanceth, the men come to daggers drawing, even for this occasion alone, that one man hath not done the other, that worship and honour upon the way, that he aught. For to say a truth The power of custom is great & of much force, 
Custom is a law.  (as I said) and would be taken for a law, in these cases. And that is the cause we say: You: 
You.  to every one, that is not a man of very base calling, and in such kind of speech we yield such a one, no manner of courtesy of our own. But if we say: Thou: 
Thou.  to such a one, than we disgrace him and offer him outrage and wrong: and by such speech, seem to make no better reckoning of him, then of a knave and a clown.  
And although the times past, and other countries, have used other manners: let us yet, keep ourselves to our own: And let not us dispute the matter, which is the better of twain. For we must observe, not those, that we judge in our own conceits to be good: but such, as be currant by custom, & used in our own time: as laws, which we be bound to keep, though they be not all of the best, till such time, as the magistrates, the Prince, or they that have power to amend them, have changed them to better.  
So that It behoves us, heedfully to mark the doings and speech, wherewith daily practise and custom, 
Bocc. Novel. 6 Gior. 5. fo. 259  wonteth to receive, salute, & name in our own country, all sorts and kinds of people, and in all our familiar communication with men, let us use the same. 
Peter the King of Arragon.  And notwithstanding the admiral (as peradventure the manner of his time was such) in his talk with Peter the King of Arragon, did many times: Thou him: Let us yet say to our King: Your majesty: and your highness: aswell in speech as in writing. And if they have followed the use of their time: then let not us break the fashions of ours. And these do I call Dutiful Ceremonies, because they proceed not, as we would, or of our free wills: but are laid upon us by the Laws: I mean, Common custom.  
And in such things, as carry no evil meaning in them, but rather some face of courtesy: reason would and commandeth, we should rather observe common Custom, than dispute and lay the law for them.  
And albeit, to kiss in show of reverence, of very right appertaineth to the relics of Saints and there holy matters: yet if it be the manner of your country, at parting, to say: 
I kiss your hand: I am your servant: your slave in chain.  Signori, Io vi bascio la mano. Or: Io son vostro seruidore: Or else: vostro schiavo in catena: you must not disdain it, more than other. But, In farewelles and writings, you must salute and take leave, not as reason, but as custom will have you: and not as men wont in times past, or should do: but as men useat this day: for it is a churlish manner to say: What great gentleman is he I pray you, that I must master him: Or: is he become master parson, that I must kiss his hands? for he that is wont to be (Sird) and like wise (Sirreth) other: may think you disdain him, and use some outrage unto him, when you call him to his face, by his bore name, and give him no addition.  
And these terms of signory, service, & duty, and such other like unto these, as I have said: have lost a great part of their harshness, and (as herbs long steepte in the water) are sweetened, and made soft and tender, by reason of much speech in men's mouths, and continual use to speak them. So that we must not abhor them, as some rude and rustical fellows, full of foolish simplicity, do: that would fain begin the letters we writ to Kings and Emperors after this sort. uz. If thou and thy children be in health it is well: I am also in health: saying, that such was the beginning of the letters, the Latins did writ to the magistrates of Rome. If men should live by their measure, and go back to those fashions and manners, our first fathers did use: the world them by little and little, would come so about, that we should feed upon acorns again.  
And in these Dutiful Ceremonies, there be also certain rules and precepts, we must observe: that we may not be touched with Vainess and Pride. 
Vanity and pride.  And first of all, we must consider the country where we do live. For all customs be not currant a like in all countries. 
Respect of country.  And peradventure that which they use in Naples, which is a City replenished with gentlemen, of good houses and Lords of great power, were not so fit for Florens and Luke: Which are inhabited, for the most part, with Merchants and plain gentlemen, without any Prince, marquis, or Barone amongst them. So that the brave and Lordelike manners of the gentlemen of Naples transported to Florence: should be but waste, and more than needs: like a tall man's gown cast over a dwarf: as also the manners of Florence should be to pinching and strait, for the Noble natures and minds of the gentlemen of Naples. And although the gentlemen of Venice, use great embracings and entertainementes amongst themselves, and fawn without measure the one on the other, by reason of their offices, degrees and favours they look to find when they meet and assemble and choose their officers: yet for all this, it is not convenient, that the good men of Rovigo, or the Citizens of Asolo, should use the like solennities, embracings and entertainments one to another, having no such kind of cause amongst them: Albeit all that same country (if I be not deceived) is fallen a little, into these kind of follies, as over careless and apt enough by nature, or rather learning those manners of Venice their Lady and Mistress: because Every man gladly seeketh to tread the steps of his better: although there be no reason for it.  
Moreover we must have a regard to the time, to the age, and the condition of him, 
Time, age, condition & calling must be respected.  to whom we use these ceremonies, and likewise respect our own calling: and with men of credit maintain them: but with men of small account cut them of clean, or at lest, abridge them as much as we may, & rather give them a beck than a due guard: Which the courtiers in Rome can very well skill to do.  
But in some cases these Ceremonies be very cumbersome to a man's business, 
In what case Ceremonies be cumbersome.  and very tedious: as, Cover your head, says the judge, that is busied with causes, and is scanted of time to dispatch them. And this fellow so full of these Ceremonies, after a number of legs and shuflinge curtesis, answers again: Sir I am very well thus. But says the judge again, Cover your head I say. Yet this good fellow turning twice or thrice to & fro, making low congees down to the ground with much reverence and humility, answers him, still: I beseech your worship, let me do my duty. This business and trouble lasteth so long, & so much time is trifled: that the judge might very near have dispatched all his business within that space. Then, although it be every honest man's part, and the duty of every meaner body, to honour the judges, and men that be called to worship & honour: yet, where time will not bear it: it is a very troublesome thing to use it, and it must be eschewed, or measured with reason.  
Neither be the self same Ceremonies seemly for young men, respecting their Age: that old men do use together. Nor yet can it become men of mean and base condition, to use the very same, that gentlemen & great men may use one to another. And if we mark it well, we shall found, that the greatest, the best men, & men of most valour, do not always use the most Ceremonies themselves, nor yet love nor look a man should make many goodly curtsies unto them, as men that can ill spend their thoughts one matters so vain.  
Neither must handy crafts men, nor men of base condition, busy themselves to much, in over solemn Ceremonies to great men, and Lords: it is not looked for in such. For they disdain them, more than allow than: because it seems that in such, they seek & look, rather for obedience and duty, than honour. And therefore it is a foul fault in a servant, to offer his master his service: for he count's it his shame, & he thinks the servant doth make a doubt, whether he is master or no: as if it were not in him to employ him, & command him too. These kind of Ceremonies would be used frankly. For, What a man doth of duty, is taken for a debt, and he finds himself little beholding to him that doth it. But he that doth more, than he is bound to: it seems he parteth with somewhat, and that makes men to love him, and to commend him for a liberal man. And I remember me well, I have heard it said, that a worthy Grecian a great versifier, was ever wont to say: that He that could skill to entertain men with a small adventure, made a great gain.  
You shall then use your Ceremonies, as the tailor shapes his garments, rather to large then to little: but yet not so, that he cutteth one hose large enough to make a cloak. And if thou do use in this point, some little gentle behaviour, to such as be meaner than thyself: thou shalt be counted lowly. And if thou do asmuch to thy betters: thou shalt be said a Gentleman well taught, 
Vanity.  and courteous. But he that doth herein to much, and is over lavish, shallbe blamed as vain and light: and perhaps worse thought of too: counted a busy body, a fidging fellow, and in wife men's sight, a flatterer: which vice, our elders have called, (if I do not forget me) double diligence. And there is no fault in the world, more to be abhorred, or the worse beseems a gentleman, than this. And this is the third manner of Ceremonies, which simply proceedeth of our own will, and not of custom.  
Let us then remember, that Ceremonies, (as I have always said) were not so necessary by nature, but a man might do well enough without them: As for example, our country lived (it is not long since) in manner clean without any. But other men's diseases have infected us, with these infirmities and many more. So that, custom and use observed: the rest that is more, is but waste: and such a sufferable losing, as if it be more in deed then is in use, it is not only unsufferable, but forbidden: and so upon, the matter, a cold and unsavoury thing to noble minds, that cannot browse upon shrubs and shows.  
And you shall understand, that trusting my own skill but little, in writing this present treatise: I thought good to consult with many, and to take the judgement of better learned men then myself. And this in my reading I find. There was a King, they call him Oedipus: 
Oedipus.  being banished and driven out of his country (upon what occasion I know not) he fled to King Theseus 
Theseus.  at Athens, the better to save himself and his life, from his enemies, that mainly pursued him. This Oedipus now coming before the presence of Theseus, by good chance hearing his daughter speak, (whom he knew by her voice, for he was blind and could not behold her with his eyes) he was so presently stricken with joy, that, not tarrying to do his allegiance and duty to the King, he did presently embrace, & make much of his daughter before him: his fatherly affection so led him, and ruled him so. But in the end finding his fault, and better advising himself of his doings: he would needs excuse it to Theseus, & humbly prayed his grace to pardon his folly. The good and wise King, cut of his talk, and bade him leave his excuses, and thus said unto him: Comfort thyself Oedipus, and be not dismayed at that thou hast done. For I will not have my life honoured with other men's words, but with my own deeds. Which sentence a man should have always in mind.  
And albeit men be well pleased, that men do give them worship & honour: yet when they found themselves cunningly courted, they be soon weary of it, and also disdain it. For these glaverings, or flatteries I should say, to amend their knaveries & falsehoods, have this fault withal: that these glavering fellows do plainly show, they count him, whom they court in this sort, but a vain, and arrogant body, an ass of gross capacity, and so simple, that it should be an easy matter to bait him and take him too. And these Vain and Curious Ceremonies, besides that they be superfluous: so they bear with all a shape of flattery, so slenderly covered, that every man doth openly see them, and know them plain: in such sort, that they that do them, to the end to make a gain, besides that ill that is in them, whereof I spoke before: show themselves also, gentlemen ill taught, without good manner or any honest fashion.  
But there is another sort of Ceremonious people, who make it an art and merchandise, and keep a book and a reckoning of it. One these men (they say) they must smile, on such men they must laugh: and, the better man shall sit in the chair, and the other upon a low stool: which superstitious Ceremonies, I believe, were transported out of Spain into Italy. But our country, hath given them but cold entertainment, and as yet they have taken but slender root here: for this precise difference of worship, and gentry, is not liked of, with us. And therefore it is but ill manner, for a man to make himself judge, which is the better man.  
But it is much worse for a man to make a sale of his Ceremonies and entertainments, (after the manner of harlots) as I have seen many gentlemen do in the court, giving good words and fair countenances for a reward and recompense, of the goods and the time, their servants have spent in their service.  
And sure they that take a pleasure to use over many Ceremonies, more than need: show they do it upon a lustiness and bravery, as men that have nothing else in them of any valour.  
And because these follies are learned with ease enough, and carry withal a little fair gloze in show: they bestow all their whole minds none other way. But grave matters they can not abide to wield, as things to far above their reach: and could find in their hearts to devil in these toys and trifles, as men whose capacity conceiveth naught of Importance: like tender mylkesops that can be are no brunt: or that, beside a glorious outside, have not metal enough in them to abide a flea biting. And therefore, they could wish it worse: that these entertainments and acquaintance with men, should go no further than the first sight. And of these there be an infinite number.  
And some again be to full of words, and abound to much in courteous gestures to cover and hide the defects and faults of their treacheries, and their vile & base natures: For they see, if they should be as barren & rude in their words, as they be in their deeds & their doings, men would in no case abide them. And to say a truth, you shall find that 〈◊〉 of these two causes, draw most men one, to use these waist and needles Ceremonies, and nothing else: which lightly most men cannot away withal, because they be hindered by them, & their means, to live as they would, and loose their liberty: which a man doth prefer above any thing else.  
We must not speak ill of other men, nor of their doings: although it plainly appear, that men do willingly bend good ear to hear it, as easily moved thereto, by the nature of malice and envy, that pines at our Neighbour's prosperity and rising to worship & honour: for at length men will eschew the acquaintance of Slanderous 
Slandering.  people, as much as they shun the Ox, that goreth with his horns, or striketh with his feet: making their reckoning, that what they tell them of us, asmuch they will tell us, of them.  
And some there be, 
quarreling.  that so quarrel at every word, question, and wrangle, 
Wrangling.  that they show they have little skill in other men's natures: 
Ouerthwarting.  for, Every man desireth the victory should go one his side: and hates it asmuch, to be mastered in words, as to be vanquished in any other act that he doth. So that, wilfully to overthwart a man, it worketh no Love and good will: but rather displeasure, ●ancoure and malice. And therefore, he that seeks to be well thought of, and would be taken for a pleasant and good Companion, must not so readily use these speeches: It was not so: And, Nay: it is as I tell you. I will lay a wager with you: But he must rather take pains, to apply himself to other mens minds concerning such things, as have matter of small importance: Because the victory, in such cases, is dangerous: for, the gaining the cause, in trysting questions, doth often lose the Love of a faithful friend. And men are so far out of love & liking, of such hot fellows: that they will by no means grow acquainted with such, lest they be driven every hour to bralle, to chide, and to fight with them for it. And such kind of people do purchase these names: 
Conqueror.  Master Vniciguerra: Or, 
Ouerthwarter.  Sir Contraponi: Or, Sir Tutte●salle: And sometime: 
Know all.  ill Dottor suttile. 
The subtle Doctor.   
And if you chance otherwhile, to be entreated of the company to speak your mind: I would have you do it after a gentle sort, without showing yourself so greedy to carry the bucklers away, as if you would eat them up for haste. But thou must Leave to every man his part: And be it right or wrong, consent to the minds of the most, or the most importunate: and so leave the field unto them: that some other, and not yourself, may beat and sweat, and chase in the winning of the cause. For these quarrelous contentions, be foul and ill favoured fashions for gentlemen to use: and they get them ill will and displeasure of all men for it: and they be uncomely for their own unseemliness, which of itself offendeth every good honest mind, as it may chance you shall hear hereafter.  
But the common fault of men is such, 
Counceling and reproving.  and each man is so infected with this self love and liking of himself: that he hath no respect or care to please any man else.  
And to show themselves five headed, of much understanding, and wise: they counsel, reprove, dispute, and bralle, to daggers drawing, and allow nothing else but that they say themselves.  
To offer advise unrequested: what is it else but to vaunt yourself wiser than he is, whom you do counsel: nay rather, it is a plain check to him, for his Ignorance and folly. And therefore, you must not●● so; with all your acquaintance generally: but only with your very friends, or such whom you are to govern & rule: or else, when a man haply stands in danger & peril, how much a stranger so ever he be. But in our common Acquaintance and conversation, Let us not busy ourselves, and meddle to much with other men's doings. In which fault many do fall: but most of all, the men of lest understanding. For, Men of gross Capacities, consider but little: And they take no long time to debate with themselves, as men that have little business to do.  
But how so ever it be, 
He that counseleth hath ever a good conceit of himself.  he that offereth and giveth his counsel: gives us to think, he hath this conceit of himself: that all the wit is in him, and other poor men have none at all.  
And sure there be some, that stand so much in conceit of their wit: that they will be in manner, at wars, with him, that will not follow the counsel they give them. And thus they will say. Very well: a poor man's counsel will not be taken: such a one will do as he list: such a one gives no heed to my words. As though there were not more Arrogancy in thee, that seekest to bring a man to follow thy Counsel: then there is in him, that follows his own advise.  
And they do also make the like fault, 
Reproving and correcting of faults.  that take upon them to reprove and correct men's faults, and to give a definite sentence in all things, and lay the law to all men. Such a thing would not be done: You spoke such words: Do not so: say not so: The wine that you drink is not good for you: but would be read wine. You should use such an Electuary, and such pills: And they never leave to reprove and correct. And let us pass that over, that otherwhile, they busy themselves so much, to purge other mens grounds: that their own is overgrown, and full of thorns and nettles. For it is a marvelous pain unto them, to hear one that side.  
And as there be few or none, whose mids can frame, to spend their life with a Physician, a Confessor, and much less a judge that hath jurisdiction and power to control and correct all criminal faults: so is there not one, that can take any pleasure to live, or make himself familiar with such Censors: so hard, and severe. For, every man loveth liberty: and they would rob us of it, and get to be our masters. So that it is no good manner to be so ready to correct and give rules unto men: we must give Schoolmasters and Fathers leave to do that. And yet that notwithstanding, experience doth show, the children and scholars both, do often hide themselves from them, you see.  
Do not allow, that a man should scorn or scoff 
Scorns and Scoffs.  at any man, what so everhe be: no not his very enemy, what displeasure so ever he bear him: for, it is a greater sign of contempt and disdain, to scorn a man, then to do him an op● wrong: forasmuch as wrongs may be done, either of choler, or of some covetous mind or other. And there is no man will take a displeasure with that, or for that, he doth not set by: nor yet covet that thing, he doth altogether contemn.  
So that, a man doth make some account of him he doth wrong: but of him that he scoffs and scorns, he makes no reckoning at all, or as little as may be.  
And the Nature and effect of a scorn, 
The Nature of a scorn or a scoff.  is properly to take a contentation and pleasure to do another man shame and villainy: though it do ourselves no good in the world. So that, good manner & honesty, would us beware we scorn no man in any case: wherein they be much to be blamed, that reprove men those blemishes they have in their person, either in words, as Master Forese da Rabatta did, laughing at the countenance of Master Giotta: or in deeds, as many do, counterfeiting those that stutter, halt, or be crooked shouldered. And likewise, they that scoff at any man, that is deformed, ill shapen, lean, little, or a dwarf, are much to be blamed for it: or that make a gibing and jesting at such follies as another man speaketh, or the words that escape him by chance: and with all, have a sport and a pleasure to make a man blush: all these spiteful behaviours and fashions, worthily deserve to be hated, and make them that use them, unworthy to bear the name of an honest gentleman. 
Bocc, Novel. 5 Gior. 6. fo. 29●. ●.   
And such as use to jest at a man, be very like unto these: I mean them that have a good sport to mock 
Mocks.  and beguile men, not in spite or scorn, but on a merriment alone. 
Difference between a scorn and a mock  And you shall understand, There is no difference between a scorn and a mock: but the purpose alone and intent a man hath, in the meaning the one the other. For a man mocks and laughs otherwhile, in a sport and a pastime: but his scorn is ever in a rage and disdain. Although in common speech and writing, we take the one word sometime for the other. But He that doth scorn a man: feeleth a contentation in the shame he hath done him: And he that doth mock, or but laugh: taketh no contentation in that he hath done: but a sport, to be merry & pass the time away: where it would be, both a grief and a sorrow, perchance, unto him, to see that man receive any shame, by any thing he said or did unto him.  
And although I profited little, in my Grammar in my youth: yet I remember that Mitio, who loved Aeschines so much, that he himself had wonder at it: yet other while, took a sport & a pleasure to mock him: as when he said to himself: I will go to give him a mock: so that, I must infer, that the self same thing, done to the very self same body: according to the intent of him that doth it, may be either a mock or scorn.  
And because our purpose, cannot be plainly known unto other men: it shall not be good for us to use such parts, as bring men in doubt and suspicion, what our intent and meaning is in them: but rather let us eschew them, then seek to be counted jesters. For, It many times chanceth, in boarding and jesting, one tacks in sport, the other strikes again in earnest: & thus from playing, they come to fraying. So, he that is familiarly mockte in pastime, recons it, otherwhile, to be done to his shame & dishonour, and thereat he takes a disdain. Besides this, A mock is no better, than a deceit. And naturally, it grieveth every man to err and be deceived. So that, many Reasons there be to prove, That He that seeks to purchase goodwill, and be well thought of: must not make himself to cunning in mocks and jests.  
It is very true, we are not able, in no wise, to lead this painful life, altogether without some pleasure and solace: And because jests do give us some sport, and make us merry, and so consequently refreash our spirits: we love them that be pleasant, merry conceited, and full of solace. So that a body would think, I should rather persuade the contrary: I mean, I should say: It is convenient and meet in company, to use pretty mocks, and otherwhile some jests and taunts. And without doubt, they that can slint after a friendly and gentle sort, be much more made of, and better beloved than they that cannot skill or have no wit to do it. Howbeit, it is needful in this, to have a respect to many things.  
And forasmuch as it is the intent of him that doth jest: to make a sport and pastime at his fault, whom he doth love and esteem, and of whom he doth make more than a common account: it must be well looked to, that the fault, wherein his friend hath fallen, be such, as he may sustain no slander or shame, or any harm by any talk or jest he makes upon it: otherwise, his skill doth ill serve him, to make a good difference between a pleasant jest, and a very plain wrong.  
And there be some men, 
Bocc. Novel. 8 Gior. 9 fo. 430  so short & so testy, that you must, in no wise, be merry, nor use any jesting with them. And that can Biondello well tell, by Master Philippo Argenti in the gallery of Caviccioli.  
And moreover, It cannot be good to ieaste in matters of weite, and much less in matters of shame. 
Not jesting in matters of weight or of hame.  For, men will ween that we have a good sport (as the common saying is) to brag and boast in our evil: 
Bocc. Novel. ● Gior. 6. fo. 294.  as it is said, the Lady Philippe of Prato, took a singular pleasure and contentation in the pleasant & pretty answer she made, 
Lupo is the proper name of a man aswell as a wolf.  to excuse her lose and wanton life. And therefore, I cannot think that Lupo of Uberti did any thing extenuat or lessen his shame: but rather increaste it greater, by the jest that he made to excuse his fault, and qualify the opinion of his cowardly mind. For, where he might have kept himself safe without danger in the castle of Laterin, wherein he was besieged round about, and shut up: he thought he had played the man good enough, in that he could say at the yielding it up: that A wolf doth not love to be besieged and shut up. For, where it is out of time for to laugh, there to use any jests or dalliance, it hath a very cold Grace.  
And further, you shall understand, there be some jests that bite, & some that bite not at all. For the first sort: 
Bocc Novel. ● Gior. 6. fo. 288 jests and Taunts.  let that wise counsel that Lauretta gave for that point, suffice to teach you: That jests must bite the hearer like a sheep, but not like a dog. For if it pinch, as the bite of a dog: it shallbe no more a jest but a wrong. And the laws almost in all countries, will, that who saith any villainy unto a man, shallbe grievously punished for it. And, perchance, it were not amiss, to provide with all, some sharp correction for him, that should bite in way of jesting, beyond all honest measure. But gentlemen should make account, that the law that punisheth wrongs, extendeth as far to jests, and that they should seldom or very easily nip or taunt any man.  
And besides all this, you must understand, that a jest, whether it bite, or bite not, if it be not fine & full of wit, men take no pleasure at all to hear it, but rather are wearied with it: or at lest wise, if they do laugh, they laugh not at the jest, but at the jester himself, that brings it forth so cold.  
And because, jests be no other thing but deceits: and deceit (as a thing that is framed of subtleness & craft) cannot be wrought but of men, that have fine and ready wits, and very present: therefore they have no grace in men that be rude, and of gross understanding: nor yet in them always, that have the best and floweing wits: as, peradventure, they did not altogether become Master john Boccaccio.  
But taunts and jests be a special readiness and aptness of wit, and quicken the motions of the mind: wherefore they that have discretion, do not in this point, consider their will, but their disposition of nature: and after they have once or twice tried their wits, and find them unfit for such purpose: they leave to labour themselves any further in that kind of exercise: that it may not chance unto them, 
Bocc. Novel. 2. Gior, 6. fo. 287.  that happed to the knight of the lady Horetta. And if you look in to the manners of many, you shall easily see, this that I tell you is true: I say, that To jest or to taunt, is not currant with every man that will, but only with them that can. And there be many that for every purpose, have in their mouth ready, many of these words, which we call Bicticcichi: that have no manner of sense or meaning in them. And some, that use very foolishly and fond to change Syllables into words. And some you shall hear speak and make answer, 
Because these speeches have no grace in our English tongue, I leave them in the Italian. But our tongue hath such absurd jests as plentifully as any other tongue.  otherwise than a man would lightly look for, without any wit or pleasure in the world in their talk. And if you do ask them, Dove e il signore? they answer again. Dove egli ha' i piedi: and likewise. Gli frae unguer le mani con le grascia di signore Giovan Boccadoro. Dove mi manda egli? Ad Arno. Io mi voglio radere, Sarebbe meglio rodere. Va chiama il Barbieri. Et perrhe non il Barbadomanie. All which be to gross, to rude, and to stolen: 
Bocc. Novel. 10. Gior. 5. fo. 281.  and such were almost, all the pleasant purposes and jests of Dioneo.  
But I will not take upon me at this time, to discourse of the best and the worst kind of jests, what they be: aswell for that other men have written treatises thereof much more learnedly and better than I can: as also, because jests & taunts, have at first sight, a large and sure proof of their grace or disgrace: such, as thou canst not do much amiss in this point, without thou stand to much in thy own conceit, and think to well of thyself: for where the jest is pretty and pleasant, there a man strait is merry, and shows a liking by laughing, and makes a kind of admiration of it. So that, where the company gives forth no liking of thy sports and conceits, by their mirths and their laughing: hold thyself still then, and jest no more. For it is thy own fault thou must think, and not theirs that do hear thee: forasmuch as the hearers, as it were alured, with the ready, pleasant, and subtle answers or questions (do what they can, will they or nill they) cannot forbear their laughing, but laugh in spite of their teeth. From whom as from our right & lawful judges, we must not appeal to ourselves.  
Neither must a man, to make other men merry, speak foul and filthy words, nor make ill-favoured gestures, distorting his countenance, & disfiguring his body. For, No man should, for other mens pleasures, dishonest & dishonour himself. 
Bocc. Novel. 10. Gior. 5. fo. 281.  It is an art for a juggler & jester to use: it doth not become a gentleman to do so. 
It is the beginning of a song.  We must not then, imitate the common and rude behaviours of Dioneo. Madonna Aldruda Alzate La coda.  
Nor we must not counterfeit ourselves to be fools & unsavoury dolts: but as tune & occasion serveth, tell sun pretty tale or sun news, never heard of before, he that can: & he that cannot, let him hold his peace. For, these be the parts of the wit: which, if they be sudden & pretty, give a proof & a show of the quickness of the wit, & the goodness of the manners of him the speaks then: which thing doth very much please men & makes them our lovers & friends. But if they be otherwise, they work them a contrary effect. For, man would ween the ass would play his part: or that sun hody body & louberly lout would frisk and dance in his doublet. There is another pleasant kind of communication: 
Long talk & discourse.  & that is when the pleasure & grace doth not consist in one merry conceit alone, but in long & continued talk: which would be well disposed, well uttered, & very well set forth, to show the manners, the fashions, the gestures & behaviours of them we speak, of so properly & lively, as the hearer should think that he heareth them not rehearsed, but seeth them with his eyes do those very things he hears them to speak of: which be very well observed by the gentlemen and gentlewomen both, in Boccace: although yet otherwhile (if I be not deceived) they do affect and counterfeit, more than is sightly for a gentleman or gentlewoman to do, like to these Comedy Players. And to do this well, you must have the matter, the tale, or the story, you take upon you to tell, perfect in your mind: and words so ready and fit, that you need not say in the end: 
Bocc. Novel. 2. Gior. 6. fo. 287.  That thing, and other thing: This man, what do you call him: That matter, help me to term it: And, remember what his name is. For this is just the trot of the knight of the lady Horetta. And if you do rehearse any chance, in which there be many speakers: you must not say: He said and he answered: because this word (He) serveth for all men. So that the hearer that harkens unto it, is easily deceived, and forgets whom you mean. Then, It behoves them that discourse matters at length, to use proper names, & not to change them after.  
And more over, a man must beware that he say, not those things, which unsaide in silence would make the tale pleasant enough, and, peradventure, give it a better grace to leave them out. As to say thus. Such a one, that was the son of such a one, that dwelled in Cocomer street: do you not know him? he married the daughter of Gianfigliazzi, the lean scragge, that went so much to Saint Laraunce. Not? do not you know him? why? do you not remember the goodly straight old man that ware long hair down to his shoulders? For if it were nothing material to the tale, whether this chance befell him, or him: all this long babble, and fond and foolish questions, were but a tale of a Tub: to no purpose, more than to weary men's ears that hearken to it, and long to understand the end. As peradventure our Dant hath made this fault otherwhile, where he sayeth: 
And borne my parents were of yoare in Lombardy,  
And eke of Mantua's soil they both by country be.   
For, it was to no purpose, whether his mother were borne at Gazuolo, or else at Cremona.  
But I learned once of a stranger, a Rhetorician very learned, a necessary lesson concerning this point: that Men must dispose and order their tale, first with by names, and then rehearse them (as need is) that be proper. For, the bynames always bear the respect of the persons quality: but the other are to be used at the Father's discretion, or his whom they concern.  
And therefore, that body whom in your thought and imagination to yourself, you do conceive, 
Bocc. Novel 6 Gior. 1. fo. 41.  might be Lady Covetousness herself: in speech you shall call Master Erminio Grimaldie: if such be the common opinion, the country hath of him. And, if there be no man in place where you devil, so notoriously known as might serve the turn fit for your purpose: you must then imagine the case further of, and set him a name at your pleasure. It is very true, that With much greater pleasure we hearken, and better behold (as it were with our eyes) what soever is told us of men of our acquaintance, if the matter be such as toucheth their manners: than what we do hear of strangers and men unknown unto us. And the reason is this: when we do know, that such a man is wont to do so: we do easily believe, he hath done so indeed: and we take asmuch knowledge of him, as if we were present: where it chanceth not so with us, in the case of a stranger.  
Our words (be it in long discourses or other communication) Must be so plain, 
Words would be plain.  that all the company may easily understand them: and withal, for sound and sense they must be apt and sweet. For if you be to use one of these two words: you shall rather say, Il ventre: 
The, Belly.  then L' Epa. And where your country speech will bear it, 
The liver.  you shall rather say: 
The paunch.  La Pancia, then L' Ventre: Or, il Corpo. 
The Belly.  For, by these means you shallbe understood, 
The Body.  and not miss understood, as we Florentines say, nor be dark and obscure to the hearers. The which thing our Poet, meaning to eschew: in this very word itself (I believe) sought to fide out another, not thinking much of his pains (because it liked him well) to seek far to borrow it else where. And said: 
Remember how the Lord a man was fain to be,  
For man's offence and sin in Cloister of virginity.   
And albeit Dant the learned Poet, did set by such kind of rules: I do not think yet, a man should allow well of him in doing so. And sure, I would not council you to make him your Master in this point, to learn A Grace: forasmuch as he himself had none. For, this I find in a Chronicle of him.  
This Dant, was somewhat proud for his knowledge, scornful and disdainful, and much (as Philosophers be) without any grace or courtesy: having no skill to behave himself in company.  
But to come to our purpose again: I say, our speech must be plain: which will be easy enough to do: if you have wit to choose those words that be naturally bred in our soil: and with all not so old with Age, that they are become rotten and withered: and as overworn apparel, left of and cast a side. 
Old words out of use,  As, Spaldo, and Epa, and Vopo, and Sezzaio, & Primaio. And moreover, the words you shall use, 
Gergo is a very doubtful manner of speech, as it were in Riddles: and very ambiguous.  must have no double understanding, but simple. For by coupling such words together: we frame that speech that is called Aenigma. And to speak it plainer in our own language, we call it Gergo. As in this verse: 
●o vidi un che da set passatoi  
Furio da un canto all' altro trapassato.   
Again, 
Ap● words and proper.  our words would be, (as near as they might be) aptly and properly applied to that thing we go about to deliver, & as little as may be, common to other matters: for, in so doing, a man shall ween, the matter itself is openly laid before him: & that it is not expressed with words, but pointed forth with the finger. And therefore we may more properly say: A man is known by his countenance, then by his figure or counterfeit. 
Dant. 23. Infer.  And Dant did better express the matter, when he said. 
The weights  
That poise the weight do make the balance creak,  
Then if he had said  
Cry out and make a noise.   
And it is a more proper and peculiar speech to say, The shivering of an ague, then to call it The cold. And flesh that is Tidie, to term it rather, Fat: then Fulsome.  
There be some words more in this place to like effect, which I mean not to stand upon now: because our English tongue cannot handsomely deliver their perfect meaning. For the Italians have (as we have, and all other Countries else as well as we) certain peculiar words and terms, so naturally and properly their own, as it is not possible to express them aptly and perfectly in any other Language. And therefore the Author himself, fearing, or knowing asmuch in the sense of these words, which he hath inferred in this place (as it were preventing a blame) in manner excuseth and speaketh as much as I say, as the matter itself that ensueth doth show. For, the Author himself following his purpose saith thus.  
I am well assured, if some stranger should, unhappily for my credit, hit upon this treatise of mine: he would laugh me to scorn, and say that I taught to speak in riddles, or else in Ciphers. For as much as these words, be almost so properly our own, that other countries have no acquaintance with them: or, if they would use them, yet they cannot tell how to understand them. For, who is it that knows what Dant meant in this verse.  Gia veggia per Mezzul perdere o Lulla. 
Dant. 28. Infer.  
Sure, I believe no man else but we that are Florentines can understand it. Notwithstanding, for any thing that I have said, if there be any fault in this text of Dant: it is not in the words. But, if he have faulted, it is rather in this: that (as a man somewhat wilful) he would take upon him, a matter hard to be uttered in words, and peradventure unrepentant to hear: then that he hath expressed it ill.  
It is not then for a man to use any talk, 
Talk in a foreign Language.  with him that understandeth not that language you talk unto him. Nor yet, because a Dutch man understands not the Italian tongue, must we (for that cause) break of our talk, to hold talk with him, to make ourselves counterfeits, as Master Brufaldo did, and as some other be wont, that fond and coldly, without any grace, thrust themselves in to Chat in their language with whom they talk, what so ever it be, and chop it out every word preposterously. And many times it chanceth, the Spaniard talks Italian with the Italian, and the Italian babbles again in a bravery and gallantness, the Spanish tongue with the Spaniard. And yet, it is an easier thing to know, that they both talk like strangers: then to forbear to laugh at the foolish follies that scape them both in speech. Let us not therefore use our foreign language, but when it is needful for us to be understood, for some necessity or other, that appertaineth unto us: And in common use, use our own tongue, though not altogether so good: rather than a foreign language, better than our own that is natural unto us. For a Lumbarde shall speak his own tongue more aptly (which is, notwithstanding, but base and barbarous) than he shall speak the Tuscan, or other language: even because he hath not so readily, so proper and peculiar words, although he study much for them, as we ourselves that be Tuscans.  
But yet, if a man have a respect to them with whom he talks: and for that cause forbear & leave out those singular words, (which I have spoken of) and in stead of them use the general and common: his talk, by such means, shall have the less pleasure & delight.  
Besides this, 
Words that have no honest meaning in them.  it becometh every honest gentleman, to eschew those words that have no honest meaning. And, The goodness of words consisteth either in their sound, or pronouncing: or, in their sense and meaning. For a much as some words speak an honest matter, and yet, perchance, there is a certain unhonest sense perceived to stand in the pronouncing of the word itself: 
Rinculare, is to draw backward, arselonge.  as Rinculare: which, notwithstanding, is daily used of all men. But if a man or woman should speak after this sort, & at that very warning do it in sight of any (I mean shuffle backward upon their tail) then would the grossness of the word plainly appear unto them. But our Palate, through Custom and Use, happily tasteth the wine (as it were) and the bestnes of the sense of the word, and not the dregs or Leeze. She gave the Spanish fig with both her thumbs at once. 
Dant. 25. infer  Says Dant. 
Fiche, is the thrusting of the thumb between the forefinger: which either for the word or the remembrance of something thereby signified, is reputed amongst the Italians as a word of Shame.   
But our women, would be much ashamed to speak so: yea to shun this ambiguous word, that signifieth a worse matter, they rather say Le castagne. Albeit yet some of them at unwares, many times, name that unadvisedly, which if another man had spoken to try them, would have made them blush to hear that remembered in way of blasphemy, which makes them women. And therefore, such as be, or would be better mannered or taught, 
〈◊〉 me  take good heed they do eschew, not only things unclean and unhonest, but words also: and not somuch those that be evil indeed, but those that may be, or do but seem to be unhonest, foul & filthy: as some men say these areof Dant. 
Dant▪ 17. 〈◊〉.  
She blue large blasts of wind  
Both in my face and under.   
Or else these.  I pray thee tell me where about the hole doth stand. 
And one of the Spirits said.  Then come behind and where the hole is, it may be scanned. 
And you must know, that albeit two, or more words, otherwhile chance to tell one self thing, yet the one is more cleanly than the other. As for example, to say: She lay with him: and she satisfied his desire with her person. For this self same speech, if it were in other terms, would be to broad before & to filthy to hear it. And speaking of Endymion, you may more aptly say: Il Vago della Luna: than you can say Il Drudo, although both these words do import and signify A lover, and a Friend. And a much honester speech is it, if you talk of Aurora, to call, her. Triton's pretty girl and lover, than Concubine. And it better becomes a man's and woman's mouth, to call Harlots, women of the world (as Belcolore did, who was more ashamed to speak it then to do it) then to use their common name: Thais is a Harlot. And as Boccace declared that power of whores and boys. For, if he had termed the males, by their beastly occupation, as he termed the women: his talk would have been foul & shameful. And withal, A man must not alone beware of unhonest and filthy talk▪ 
Base words and Vile.  but also of that which is base and vile, and especially where a man talketh & discourseth of great and high matters. And for this Cause, perchance, worthily some blame our Beatrice, saying: 
To pass through Lethe's flood, the highest Fates would blot,  
If man might taste the Viands such, 
Dant. 30. Purgato.  as there do fall by lot,  
And not pay first a due repentance for his scott.   
For, in my conceit, these base words that come out of the Taverns, be very uncomely for such a worthy discourse. And when a man hath like occasion to speak of the Sun, it shall not be good to call it The Candle or the Lamp of the world: because such words do put us in mind of the Oil, & the stuff of the kitchen. Neither should a man that is well advised, 
Drudo, signifieth a lascivious lover.  say that Saint Dominicke was Il Drudo della Theologia: Nor yet talk, that the glorious Saints have spoken such base and vile words: As for Example to say. 
Dant. 22. Infer.  And leave to scratch whereas the scabs of sin break out,  
For they savour of the dregs, & the filth of the common people, as every man may easily see.  
Again, in your long & large discourses, you must have the like considerations & cares, & some more: the which you may more commodiously learn of your masters that teach you that art, that is commonly called Rhetoric.  
And amongst other things, You must accustom yourself, 
Gentle words in Communication.  to use such gentle and courteous speech to men, and so sweet, that it may have no manner of bitter taste. And you shall rather say, I cannot tell how to say it: Then say: you are deceived: Or, it is not true: Or, you know it not. For, it is a courteous and friendly part to excuse a man's fault, even in that very thing, wherein you know how to blame him. And withal, it doth well, to make the proper and peculiar fault of your friend, indifferent and common to you both: and first, to take one piece to yourself, and then after, to blame and reprove him for it. We were deceived and failed much: we forgot ourselves yesterday to do so. Although such negligence & error, or what soever it be: be altogether his fault and not yours. And Restagnone forgot himself much, when he said to his companions: If your words do not lie. For, A man should not bring another man's faith and honesty in question and doubt. But, if a man promise' you any thing, and do not perform it: it shall not do well, for you to say unto him: You have lost your credit with me: without some necessary cause do drive you to say so, as to save your own credit and honesty. But, you shall rather say: You could not do it: Or, you did not remember to do it: Then, you have clean forgotten me. For, these kind of speeches, have some prickles & stings of Complaint, Anger and Choler. So that, such as use themselves to speak such churlish and furnish words, are taken for sharp and sour fellows: & men do asmuch shun their acquaintance: as to thrust themselves upon thorns and thistles.  
And because I know some, of this naughty condition & quality: I mean some that be so hasty and greedy to speak, that they take not the sense with them, but over pass it and run before it, as the grehound, that doth not pinch by overshooting his game: therefore I will not spare to tell you that, which may be thought needless to touch, as a thing to well known: and that is, that You shall never speak, before you have first considered & laid the plot in your mind what it is you have to say. 
Parto & n●● Isconciatura.  For in so doing, your talk shallbe well delivered and not borne before the time. I trust, strangers will easily bear with this word: if at lest they vouchsafe to read these trifles of mine. And it you do not scorn my precepts: it shall never chance you to say: welcome Master Agostino, to such a one, whose name is Agnolo, or Bernardo. And you shall never need to say, Tell me your name: Nor say again, I said not well: Nor, Lord what do I call him: Nor to hack and to stutter long together, to find out a word, Master Artigo: no Master Arabico: Tush, what do I call him I should say, Master Agabito. These fond & foolish behaviours & fashions, pain a man as much to hear them, as to be drawn and haled with cords.  
The voice would be neither hoarse nor shrill. 
Voice and Tongue.  And, when you laugh and sport in any sort: you must not cry out and criche like the Pullye of a well: nor yet speak in your yawning. I know well it is not in us, to give ourselves a ready tongue or perfect voice at our own will and pleasure. He that doth stutter, or is hoarse: let him not always babble and gabbe, and keep a court alone: let him rather a mend the defect of his tongue with silence, and hearing: and withal (if he can) with study diminish the fault of Nature. It is an ill noise to hear a man raise his voice high, like to a common crier. And yet I would not have him speak so low and softly, that he that harkens, shall not hear him. And if he be not heard at that first time he speaketh, he must speak, the next time, somewhat plainer: but yet, not yoape out aloud, that he make not men think he is wood and angry with them: for he shall do but well, to rehearse that again he hath spoken, that men may understand what he said.  
Your words would be disposed, 
Manner of Speech.  even as the common use of speech doth require and not unsorted, disordered and scattered confusedly: as many be wont to do upon a bravery, whose manner of talk is more like a Scrivener (me think) that readeth in his mother tongue, the Indenture he hath written before in latin: then a man that reasoneth or talketh in his Natural language: as this for example. They draw by sent of false and feigned steps of truth.  
Or if a man should preposterously place his words thus. Those times did blossoms give before their time of sooth.  
Which manner of speech, may be otherwhile allowed in versifiers: but it is utterly forbidden in common talk.  
And, it behoves a man, not only to shun this versifying manner of speech, in his familiar and common discourse, or talk: but likewise eschew the pomp, bravery, & affectation, that may be suffered and allowed to enrich an Oration, spoken in a public place. Otherwise, men that do hear it, will but spite it, and laugh him to scorn for it.  
Albeit perchance, a Sermon may show a greater cunning and art, then common talk. But, Every thing must have his time and place. For, he that walks by the way must not dance, but go. For, every man hath not the skill to dance, and yet every man can skill to go. But, Dancing is meet for feasts & weddings: it is not to use in the streets. You must then take good heed you speak not with a majesty.  It is thought by many Philosophers. 
And such is all Filocolo, and the other treatises of Master john Boccace, except his greater work, and little more perchance Corbaccio.  
I would not for all this, that you should use so base a speech, as the scum, as it were, and the froth of the meanest and vilest sort of people, Launderers & Hucksters: but such as gentlemen should speak & talk, which I have partly told you before, in what sort it may be done: that is, if you talk of matters that be neither vile, vain, fowl, nor loathsome. And if you have skill to choose amongst the words of your own country speech, the purest and most proper, such as have the best sound, and best sense, touching nor remembering, in no case, no matter that is foul, vile and base: & if you can place your words in good order, and not shoofle them together at random, nor yet, with over much Curious study, file them (as it were) one your beads. Moreover, if you do dispose such things as you have to say with discretion. And take good heed that you couple not unfit & unlikely matters together: as for Example. 
As sure as God is in Heaven:  
So stands the staff in the chimney corner.   
And if you speak not so slow, as if you were unlusty: nor so hasty, as if you were hungry: but as a wise and a temperate man should do. Likewise, if you pronounce your words and your syllables with a certain grace & sweetness: not as a Schoolmaster that teathe young Children to read & to spell. Neither must you mumble them nor sup them up, as if they were glued & pasted together one to another. If you remember these and such other rules and precepts: your talk will be liked, and heard with pleasure enough: and you shall well maintain the state and countenance, that well beseemeth a gentleman well taught and honest.  
Besides these, there be some, that never hold their tongue. 
Talkative Fellows.  And as the ship that sails, doth not presently stand still, by taking down the sails: So do they run forward, as carried away with a certain braid: and losing the matter of their talk, yet leave not to babble, but either repeat that again that is said, or else speak still they cannot tell what.  
And there be other so full of babble, that they will not suffer another to speak. And as we do see otherwhile, upon the flowers in the country where they thrash corn, one Pullet pull the corn out of the others beak: so do they catch the tale out of his mouth that began it, and tell it themselves. And sure, such manner of people, induce men to quarrel and fight with them for it. For, if you do mark it well: Nothing moves a man sooner to anger: then when he is soudainely cut short of his will and his pleasure, be it of never so little and small importance. As when you gape wide with yawning: another should thrust his hand in your mouth: or when you do lift your arm ready to hurl a stone: it is suddenly stayed by one that stands behind you. Even then, as these doings, and many more like unto these, which tend to hinder the will and desire of another (albeit but in way of sport & of play) are unseemly, and would be eschewed: So in talk and communication with men, we should rather pull one, and further their desires, by what means we can, then stop them and hinder them in it.  
And therefore, If any man be in a readiness to tell his tale: it is no good manner to interrupt him: nor to say that you do know it well. Or, if he besprinkle his tale here and there, with some pretty lie: you must not reprove him for it, neither in words nor in gesture, as shaking your head, or scowling upon him, as many be wont: gloriously vaunting themselves, that they can, by no means, abide the taste of a Lie 〈◊〉▪ But, this is not the reason of this, it is the sharpness and sourness of their own rustical & eager Natures, which makes them so venomous & bitter in all companies they come: that no man cares for their acquaintance.  
Likewise, It is an ill-favoured condition to stop another man's tale in his mouth: and it spites him asmuch, as if a man should take him by the sleeve & hold him back, even when he is ready to run his course. And when another man is in a tale, it is no good manner for you, by telling the company some news, & drawing their minds to other matters, to make them forsake him clean, and leave him alone. For, it is an uncourtious part for you to lead and carry away the company: which the other (not you) hath brought together.  
And, when a man tells his tale, you must give good ear unto him: that you may not say otherwhile, O what? Or, how? which is many a man's fashion to do. And this is as much trouble and pain to him that speaketh: as to shoofle against the stones, to him that goeth. All these fashions, and generally, that which may stop, and that which may traverse the course of another man's talk, must be shunned.  
And, if a man tell his tale slow like a drawelatche: you must not yet hasten him forward, nor lend him words, although you be quicker in speech than he. For, many do take that ill, and specially such, as persuade themselves they have a jolly grace in telling a tale. For, they do imagine you think not so well of them, as they themselves do: And that you would give them instructions in their own Art: as merchants that live in great wealth & plenty, would count it a great reproach unto them, that a man should proffer them money, as if they lived in lack, & were poor and stood in need of relief. And you must understand, that, Every man in his own conceit, thinks he can tell his tale well: although for modesty sake he deny it. And I cannot guess how it cometh to pass, that the veriest fool doth babble most: which over much prattle, I would not have a gentleman to use, and specially, if his skill be but scant in the matter in talk: Not only, because it is a hard matter: but, He must run in many faults that talks much: but also, because a man weens, that, He that talks all the talk to himself, would (after a sort) prefer himself above them all that hear him, as a Master would be above his scholars. And therefore, It is no good manner for a man to take upon him a greater state, than doth become him. And in this fault, not men alone, but many countries fall into, so cackling and prattling: that, woe be their ears that give them hearing.  
But, as over much babble makes a man weary: so doth over much Silence 
Silence  procure as great disliking. For, To use silence in place where other men talk to and fro: is in manner, asmuch a fault, as not to pay your share and scot as other men do. And as speech is a mean to show men your mind, to whom you speak: so, doth Silence again make men ween, you seek to be unknown. So that, as those people which use to drink much at feasts, and make themselves drunk, are wont to thrust them out of their company, that will not take their drink as they do: So be these kind of mute & still fellows, coldly welcome to pleasant and merry company, that meet to pass the time away in pleasure and talk. So that, It is good manner for a man to speak, and likewise to hold his peace, as it comes to his turn, and occasion requires.  
As an old Chronicle maketh mention. There was in the parts of Morea, a very good workman in the stone: Who for the singular good skill he had in his Art, was called (as I take it) Maestro Chiarissimo. 
Maestro Chiarissimo.  This man (now well strooken in years) made a certain treatise, & therein gathered together all the precepts & rules of his art: as the man that had very good skill to do it: showing in what sort the proportions and lineaments of the body, should be duly measured, as well every one a part by itself, as one respecting another: that they might justly & duly be answerable the one to the other: which treatise of his, he named Regolo. 
Regolo.  Meaning to show, that according to that, all the Images and pictures, that from thenceforth any workman should make, should be squared & lined forth: as the beams, and the stones, and the walls, are measured by the rules & precepts of that book. But, for that it is a much easier matter to speak it, then to work it, or do it: and besides that, The greatest number of men, especially of us that be profane and not learned, have our senses much quicker than our understanding, and consequently, better conceive particular things and Examples, than the general propositions and Syllogisms (which I might term in plainer speech, Reasons) for this cause this worthy man I speak of, having regard to the Nature of workmen: whose capacities are unfit and unable to wield the weight of general Precepts and rules: and to declare more plainly, with all his cunning and skill: having found out for his purpose, a fine marble stone, with much labour and pain, he fashioned and shaped an Image of it, as perfectly proportioned in every part and member: as the precepts and rules of his treatise had before devised. And as he named the book, so did he name that Image, and called it by name of Regolo.  
Now, (and it pleased god) I would I could but one part of those two points, which that noble Ingraver & workman I speak of, had perfect skill and knowledge to do: I mean, that I could gather together in this treatise, after a sort, the due measures of this Art I take upon me to treat of. For, to perform the other, to make the second Regolo: I mean, to use and observe in my manners, the measures I speak of, framing and forming, as it were, A Visible Example, and a material Image of them: it were now, to much for me to do. For as much as, It is not enough to have knowledge and Art, in matters concerning manners & fashions of men: But it is needful withal, to work them to a perfect effect, to practise and use them much: which cannot be had upon the sudden, nor learned by & by: but it is number of years that must win it: & the best part of mine be run fourth already, you see.  
But for all this, you must not make the less reckoning of these precepts. For, A man may well teach another the way: although he have gone out of the way himself. And peradventure, they that have lost their ways, do better remember the hard ways to find: then they that never went a miss. And, if in mine infancy, when minds be tender and pliable, like a young twig, they that had the charge & government of me, had had the skill to smooth my manners, (perhaps of Nature somewhat hard and rude) and would have polished and wrought them fine: peraduentute I should have been such A one, as I travail to make thee Now, whom I love no less then if thou were my son. 
Nature must be mastered by Reason.  For albeit, the power of Nature be great▪ yet is she many times Mastered and corrected by custom: But, we must in time begin to encounter and beat her down, before she get to much strength and hardiness. But most men will not do so: but rather yielding to their appetite without any striving, following it where so ever it leads them, think they must submit themselves to Nature: As though Reason were not a natural thing in man. But, Reason hath (as a Lady and Mistress) power to change old customs, 
Reason doth change old Customs & helpeth Nature.  and to help & hold up Nature, when she doth at any time dec●y and fall. But very seldom we hearken unto her. And that for the most part, maketh us like unto them whom god hath not endued with Reason: I mean brute beasts, in whom notwithstanding, something yet worketh: not their own Reasons (for they have none of themselves) but ours: as in horses you see it: which by nature would be ever wild, but that their rider makes them tame, and withal, after a sort, ready & very well paced. For many of them would have a hard trot, but that the rider makes them have an easier pace. And some he doth teach to stand still, to galopp, to tread the ring, and do the career: And they learn to do it all well you see. Then, if the horse, the dog, the hawk, & many other beasts beside, more wild than these, be guided and ruled by Reason, and learn that which their own Nature cannot attain, but rather repugneth: and become after a sort cunning and skilful, so far as their kind doth bear it, not by Nature, but by custom & use: how much than may we think we should excel them, by the precepts and rules of our Reason, if we took any heed unto it. But, The Senses desire & cover present delights, what soever they be: and can abide no pains, but puts them of. And by this means, they also shake of Reason, and think her unpleasant, forasmuch as she sets before them, not pleasure, many times, hurtful: but goodness and virtue, ever painful, sour and unsavoury in taste. For, while we live accord●ing to the Sense, we are like to the silly sick-man, to whom all cates never so dainty & sweet, seem untoothsome: and he chideth still with his Cater and Cook, in whom there is no fault at all for it. For, it is the Nature of his disease, and the Extremity of his sickness, and not the fault of his meat, that he doth not savourly taste what he eats. So Reason, which of it sel●e is sweet and savoury: seems bitter in taste unto us, though it have no ill taste in deed. And therefore as nice & dainty fellows, we refuse to make any taste of her: & cover our grossness, with saying that Nature hath no spurs nor rains that can prick her forth, or hold her back. Where sure, if an Ox or an Ass; or a Hog, could speak: I believe, they could not lightly tell a more fowl & shameful tale than this. We should be children still all the time of our riper years, & in our extreme age: and wax as very fools with grey hairy heads, as when we were very babes: if it were not that reason, which increaseth in us with our years, subdueth affections in us, and grown to perfection, transformeth us from beasts in to men. So that it is well seen, she ruleth our senses and bridleth our wits. And it is our own Imperfection and not her fault, if we do serve from virtue, goodness, and good order in life.  
It is not then true, that there is not a bridle and Master for Nature. Nay, she is guided and ruled by twain: 
Custom & Reason, two bridles of Nature.  Custom I mean, and Reason. But, as I have told you a little before: Reason without Custom and use, cannot make an uncivil body, well taught and courteous: Which custom and use, is as it were, bred and borne of time. And therefore they shall do well, to hearken betime unto her, not only for that, by this means, a man shall have more time and leisure to learn to be such as she teacheth, and to become as it were a household servant of hers, and one of her trame: but also because The tender age, as pure and clean, doth easily receive all Impressions, and retaineth more lively, the colours wherewith she is died: then when a man comes to riper years: And also, because The things wherein we have been nourished and trained from our youth, do ordinarily please us, above all other things. And for this cause, it is said that Diodato, 
Diodato.  a man that had a singular good gift & grace of utterance, would evermore be the first that came fourth upon the stage to show his Comedy: although they were all but counterfeits unto him, whosoever they were that should have spoken before him. But he would not his voice should occupy other men's ears, after they heard another man speak. Although, in respect of his doings, it were a great deal Inferior to his. Seeing then, I cannot agreed my works and my words together, for those causes I have showed you before, as Maestro Chiarissimo did: who had as good a skill to do it, as he had knowledge to teach it: let it suffice that I have told in some part what must be done, because I am not by any means able to do it in deed. He that liveth in darkness, may very well judge what comfort it is to enjoy the benefit of light. And by an over long silence, we know what pleasure it is to speak: so when you behold my gross and rude manners: you shall better judge, what goodness and virtue there is in courtions behaviours and fashions.  
To come again then to this treatise, which grows now to some end: we say that Those be good manners and fashions, which bring a delight, or at lest, offend not their senses, their minds, and conceits, with whom we live. And of these, we have hitherto spoken enough.  
But you must understand with all this, that, Men be very desirous of beautiful things, well proportioned and comely. And of counterfeit things foul and ill shapen, they be as squeamish again, on the other side. And this is a special privilege given to us: that other creatures have no capacity, to skill what beauty or measure meaneth. And therefore, as things not common with beasts but proper to ourselves: we must embrace them for themselves, and hold them dear: & yet those, much more, that draw nearest to the knowledge of man: as which are most apt and inclined to understand the perfection which Nature hath left in men.  
And albeit, it be a hard matter, to show precisely, Beauty, 
Beauty.  what manner of thing it is: yet that you may have sun mark, to know her by: you must understand, that Where jointly & severally, every part & the whole hath his due proportion and measure, there is Beauty. And that thing may justly be called fair, in which the said proportion and measure is found. And by that I did once learn of a wise & a learned man: Beauty he said, would consist but of one, at the most. And Deformity 
Deformity.  contrariwise, measured herself, by Many. As you may see by the faces of fair & goodly women. For, the even lineaments and due proportions of every of them: seem to have been created & framed by the judgement and sight of one force alone. Which cannot be thought in them that be foul & deformed. For, when you behold a woman, that hath, peradventure, big and bowl eyes, a little nose, blubbe cheeks, a flat mouth, a out chin, & a brown skin: you think strait that that face is not one woman's alone: but is moulded of many faces, and made of many pieces. And yet, you shall find amongst them, some such, whose parts considered alone by themselves, be very perfect to see to: but all set together, be foul and ill favoured: not for any other cause, but that they be lineaments of many sayer women, and not of one: So that a man would ween, she had borrowed her parts, of this and that woman. And it may be, that Painter that had all the fair maids of Calabria, naked before him: had none other intent therein, then to judge & discern in many, the parts that they have, as it were, borrowed here one, & there another, of one, alone: to whom restoring from each that was her right: imagining that Venus beauty should be such, and so proportioned: he set himself to paint her.  
And, you must not think, that this is to be seen the faces, the parts, and the bodies of women alone: but it happeneth more or less, in speech, in gestures & doings. For, if you should chance to see a Noble woman gorgius and gallant, washing of clouts in a River by the high way side: Although if this were not, you might haply pass away by her, with little heed to her person or state: yet this would not brook you nor like you, that her servile doings do show her more than one. For her state should answer her honourable condition and calling. But her work is such, as is meet for women of base and servile life: & although you shall feel, neither ill savour nor sent come from her, nor hear any noise that should offend you, nor any thing else to trouble your mind: yet the foul and filthy manner of doing it, and the unseemly act itself: will make you much to loath it. You must then beware of these fowl and uncomely behaviours, asmuch, nay, more than of those other, I have spoken all this while. For, it is a harder matter a great deal, to know when a man faulteth in these, then when he faulteth in them. Because, It is easy much, we see, to feel then to understand. But yet, it may chance otherwhile, that even that which offendeth the senses, may also offend the mind: though not altogether after one sort, 
appareling according to the Time.  as I have told you before: showing you that A man must apparel himself, according to the fashions that other men use: that it may not be thought he doth reprove and correct their doings: The which thing offendeth most men that seek to be commended: And the wisest men that be, mislike it too. For, the garments of the old world, have lost their date, for men of this age and this season to wear. And it is such an ill shapen sight, to see a man clad with other men's clothes: that a man would ween there would be a fray between the doublet & the hose: their clothes do sit, upon them so untowardly.  
So that, many of those matters I have spoken of already, or peradventure all, might be aptly rehearsed here again: forasmuch as this measure I speak of here, is not observed in these things: nor the time, nor the place, nor the work, nor the worker, accorded & fitted together, so well as it should be. For men's minds and fancies do like it, & take a pleasure and delight in those things. But I thought it good to apply & speak these matters, rather under the badge, as it were, of the Senses and desires: then properly assign them to the mind: that a man may the more easily perceive them: because It is a natural thing, for every man to feel and desire: but every man cannot so generally understand, and especially that, which we call beauty, gallantness or entertainment.  
It is not enough for a man, to do things that be good: but he must also have a ca●e, he do them with a good grace. 
A Grace, what it is.  And a good grace is nothing else, but such a manner of light (as I may call it) as shineth in the aptness of things set in good order and well disposed, one with another: and perfectly knit and united together. Without which proportion and measure, even that which is good is not fair: & the fairness itself, is not pleasant. And as meats, though they be good & savoury will give men no mind to eat them, if they have no pleasant relish and taste: So fares it with the manners of men other while (although in themselves in no respect they be ill, but foolish a little, and fond) if a man do not season them with a certain sweetness, which you call (as I take it) Grace, and Comeliness.  
So that, every vice of itself, without any further matter to help it (it cannot be chosen) must needs offend a man. For, Vices be things so foul and filthy: that honest and modest minds, will grieve to see their shameful effects. And therefore, it shall behove them that seek to be well thought of, with their familiar acquaintance, above all things else to eschew vices, and especially those, that be foulest and worst: as Lechery, Covetousness, Cruelty, and other. Of which, some be beastly, as Drunkenness, and Gluttony: some unclean, as Lechery: other some horrible, as Murder, and such other: all which for themselves, and for the very naughtiness, that is properly in them all, all men eschew more, or less: But, as erst I said, generally all, as things of great disorder, make a man misliked much of all men.  
But, because I have not taken upon me to show unto you, mens sins, but their Errors: it shallbe no part of my charge at this time to entreat of the Nature of vices & virtues: but only of the seemly & unseemly fashions and manners we use one with another. One of the which unseemly fashions was, that Count Richard 
Count Richard.  did use: of which I told you before. Which, as unseemly and unfitting with those other his good and fair manners he had beside: that same worthy Bishop (as a skilful and cunning Master in music will ea-aesily here a note out of Tune) had quickly found out.  
It shallbe then, necessary for gentlemen and men of good behaviour, to have a regard to this measure I speak of: in going, in standing, in sitting, in gesture, in port, in apparel, in talk, in silence, in rest and in action. For, a man must not apparel himself like a woman: that the Attire may not be of one sort, and the person of another: as I do see it in some that wear their heads & their beards curled with bodkins, 
Beards and Heads curled with bodkins.  and have their face, and their necks, & their hands, so starchte and painted, that it were to much for a girl, nay harlot, that makes a merchandise of it, and sets herself to the sale.  
You must smell, 
Sweet smeles  neither of sweet nor of sour: for a gentleman would not savour nastily like a beggar: nor yet should a man carry a savour and sent about him, like a harlot or whore. I do not by this forbidden, but you may very well use some sweet smells of sweet waters.  
Your apparel must be shaped according to the fashion of the time, 
Apparel according to the fashion & ●●lling.  and your calling, for the causes I have showed you before. For, We must not take upon us to altar customs at our william. For time doth beget them, and time doth also wear them out.  
Every man may apply those fashions, that be in common use, the most to his own advantage, that he can. For, if perchance your legs be very long, and men use but short garments: you may use a mean, not to long, nor to short. And if your legs be to small, to great, or crooked: make not your hosen of to light and garish a colour, that it may not call men to look and to gawre upon your deformity. Thou must wear no garment that shall be to light, or overmuch daubde with guarding: that men may not say, thou hast Ganymedes hosen, or wearest Cupid's doublet. But, whatsoever it be thou wearest, let it be fit and well made for thy body: lest thou seem to brave it, in another man's clothes.  
But with all, thou must in any case respect thy condition or estate. For, A man of the Clergy, must not be attired like a Soldier: nor a Soldier go like a Player. When Castruccio was in Rome with Lodovico Bavero at a great Pomp, and triumph: who was both Duke of Lucca and Pistoia, and Count of Palazzo, and Senator of Rome: this Castruccio, being Lord great Master of the said Lodovico Bavero his household: for his bravery, made him a coat of crimson, upon the breast whereof, there was this devise, in letters of Gold It is even as God william. And upon the back behind. And it shallbe as God william.  
I believe, you think this garment, would have become Castruccio his Trumpeter better, than it could become him.  
And although Kings be free from check, and may do what they list: Yet, I could never commend King manfred, Who ever more used, to suit himself in green. We must then have a care, that our apparel be not only well made for the body: but that it be meet for our calling. 
Apparel according to the Country  And withal, it be such, as the country doth use, where we live. For, As in divers places be divers measures, and yet buying and selling every where used: So in sundry lands be sundry customs, and yet every where a man may behave him, and apparel himself, soberly and comely.  
These same feathers, which the Neapolitans and Spaniards be wont to wear, and braveries and Embroideries: have but ill place amongst grave gowned men, & theattires that Citizens do wear. But their Armour and weapons become such place a great deal worse. So that, look what haply might be allowed in Verona, would not, perchance, be suffered in Venice. For as much as these gallants, all begarded, and huffing in feathers, & warlike fellows, would not do well, in this Noble City so peaceful & Civil. Such kind of people be rather, in manner, like nettles and burrs, amongst good and sweet garden flowers. And therefore, they come out of season to men that meddle with graver matters than they do.  
I would not have a gentleman to run in the street, 
Running and going in the street and other such gestures.  nor go to fast: for that is for lackeys, and not for gentlemen to do. Besides that, it makes a man weary, sweat, and puff: which be very unsightly things for such men to do. I would not yet have a man go so soft and demurely, as a maid or a wife. And when a man walks, it is no good sight to see a man shake his body to much, nor to hold his hands bore and empty: nor yet cast & sting his arms up & down, in such sort as a man would ween, he were soweing of Corn in the field: nor Stare in a man's face, as if he had spied a mare's nest.  
There be sun again, in their gate pull up their feet as high as a horse that hath the spavin: that a man would think they did pluck their feet forth of bushel. Other again stamp their feet so hard on the ground: that they make almost asmuch noise as a cart. Another goes as if he were splay footed. And such a one quivers with his legs, as he stands. Some other again, at every foot, stoop to stroke up their hose as they go. And sun set their hands to their sides, and jet up & down like a Peacock: which fashions do much offend men: not as well, but as ill beseeming a man to use them. For, if your horse, perchance, do champ and play on the hit, and gape or lil out his tongue, albeit this give little proof of his goodness: yet it commends him well to the sale: and you should find a miss of it, if it were otherwise: not because the horse should be there fore the worse: but because he should show the less courage and pleasure. Now, if it stand so, that Comeliness and Grace, be so much made of in beasts, and also in things without life or sense, as experience doth show, that, Two things of equal goodness & commodities, bear not for all that, a like price, if a man do behold a finer proportion & beauty, more in the one than he sees in the other: How much then more, should it be esteemed and commended in men, capable of Reason.  
It is a rude fashion for a man to claw or scratch himself, 
Gestures and Fashions, at the Table.  when he sitteth at the table. And a man should at such time have a very great care that he spit not at all. 
spitting.  But if need enforce him, then let him do it, after an honest sort. I have heard tell, many times, of such countries that be so sober: that they do never spit. And what should then let us, but we may well forbear it for such a little while. 
Greedy Eating.  We must also beware we do not eat so greedily, that we get the hicket, or belch withal: as some that feed so fast, that they noy the company with it: they blow and puff to loud. 
Scouring of the teeth  Likewise, you must not rub your teeth with your napkin, & much less with your fingers. For these be tricks for a sloven. 
Washing the mouth.  Neither must you openly rinse your mouth with the wine, and then spit it fourth. Neither is it gentleman like, 
Carrying a Stick, in the Mouth.  to carry a stick in your mouth from the table when you rise, like the bird that builds her a nest: or put it in your ear, for that is a barbers trick.  
And to wear a toothpick, 
To wear a Toothepicke about your Neck.  about your neck: of all fashions that is the worst. For, beside that it is a bald jewel for a gentleman to pull forth of his bosom, and putteth men in mind of those Toothdrawers, that sit one their bench in the streets: it makes men also to think, that the man loves his belly full well, and is provided for it. And I see no reason, why they should not aswell carry a spoon, about their necks, as a toothepicke.  
It is a rude fashion beside, 
Cheering at the table.  to lean over the table, or to fill your mouth so full of meat, that your cheeks be blown up withal: neither must you by any manner of means, give another man to know what pleasure you take, in the meat or the wine. For it is for Taverners and Bousers, to use such fashions. And to entertain men that sit at your table, with these words: You eat nothing this morning. There is nothing that likes you. Or, taste you of this or of that: I do not allow of these fashions, although they be commonly received and used of all men. For, albeit by these means, they show they make much of those they have invited unto them: yet, many times, they make men to leave to eat where they would. For, it gives them to think, they have their eyes, always upon them, and that makes them ashamed to feed.  
Again, 
Carueing.  I do not like it, that a man shall take upon him to be a carver of any meat that stands before him: if he be not much the better man, that is the carver: that he to whom he carves, may think he receiveth some credit & honour by it. For, Amongst men that be of like condition and calling, it makes a heart burning: that he that plays the carver, should take more upon him then another. And otherwhile, that which he carveth, doth not like him to whom it is given. And more than this, by this means he showeth, that the feast is not sufficiently furnished, or at lest not well disposed in order, when some have much, & other none at all. And the Master of the house, may chance to take displeasure at that, as if it were done to do him shame. Nevertheless in these matters, a man must demesne himself, as common use and custom will allow, and not as Reason & duty would have it. And I would wish a man rather to err in these points with many, them to be singular in doing well. But whatsoever good manner there be in this case, thou must not refuse it, whatsoever is carved unto thee. For it may be thought thou dost disdain it, or grunt at thy carver.  
Now, 
Drinking & Carousing.  to drink all out every man: which is a fashion as little in use amongst us, as the term itself is barbarous & strange: I mean, Ick bring you, is sure a foul thing of itself, & in our country so coldly accepted yet: that we must not go about to bring it in for a fashion. If a man do quaff or carouse unto you, you may honestly say nay to pledge him, & giving him thanks, confess your weakness, that you are not able to bear it: or else, to do him a pleasure, 
Drinking much used in Graecia: and by So●rates.  you may for courtesy taste it: and then set down the cup to them that will, and charge yourself no further. And although this, Ick bring you, as I have heard many learned men say, hath been an ancient custom in Greece: and that the Grecians do much commend a goodman of that time, Socrates, 
Socrates.  by name, for that he sat out one whole night long, drinking a v●e with another good man, Aristophanes: 
Aristophanes.  and yet the next morning in the break of the day, without any rest upon his drinking, made such a cunning Geometrical Instrument, that there was no manner of fault to be found in the same: And albeit they say beside this, that Even as it makes a man bold and hardy, to thrust himself venturously otherwhile, in to dangerous perils of life: so likewise it brings a man in to good temper and fashion, to enure himself otherwhile, with the dangers of things not ever chancing: And because the drinking of wine after this sort, in a vie, in such excess and waste, is a shrewd assault to try the strength of him that quaffs so lustily: these Grecians, would have us to use it for a certain proof of our strength and constancy: and to enure us the better, to resist and master all manner of strong temptations.  
All this notwithstanding, I am of a contrary mind: and I do think all their reasons to fond, and to foolish. But, we see that Learned men have such art and cunning to persuade, and such filled words to serve their turn: that wrong doth carry the cause away, and Reason cannot prevail. And therefore let us give them no credit in this point. And what can I tell, if they have a secret drift herein, to excuse and cover the fault of their country, that is corrupt with this vice. But it is dangerous, perchance, for a man to reprove them for it: lest as much happen to him, as chanced to Socrates himself, for his over lavish controlling and checking of every man's fault. For, he was so spited of all men for it: that many articles of heresies & other foul faults were put up against him, and he condemned to die in the end: although they were false. For in truth, he was a very good man, & a Catholic: respecting the Religion of their false Idolatry. But sure, in that he drunk so much wine that same night: he deserved no praise in the world. For, the hoggshead was able to hold & receive a great deal more, than his companion and he were able to take: if that may get any praise. And though it did him no harm, that was more, the goodness of his strong brain: them the continency of a sober man. And let the Chronicles talk what they list of this matter, I give God thanks, that amongst many the Plagues that have crept over the Alps, to infect us: hitherto this worst of all the rest, is not come over: that we should take a pleasure and praise, to be drunk. Neither shall I ever believe, that a man can learn to be temperate, of such a Master as wine and drunkenness.  
The Steward of a Noble man's house, 
Inviting of strangers.  may not be so bold to invite strangers, upon his own head, and set them down at his Lord & masters table. And there is none that is wise, will be entreated to it, at his request alone. But otherwhile, the servants of the house, be so malapert and saucy, that they will take upon them, more than their Master: of which things we speak in this place, more by chance, then that the order we have taken from the beginning, doth so require it.  
A man must not uncase himself, 
A recapitulation of sundry precepts. Vncasing.  in the presence of any assembly. For it is a slovenly sight, in place where honest men be met together of good condition and calling. And it may chance he doth uncover those parts of his body, which work him shame & rebuke to show them: beside that, it maketh other men abashed to look upon them. 
Washing of hands and combing of heads.  Again, I would have no man to comb his head, nor wash his hands before men. For such things would be done alone in your chamber, and not abroad: without it be, I say, to wash your hands when you sit down to the table. For, there it shall do well, to wash them in sight, although you have no need: that they with whom you feed, may assure themselves you have done it. A man must not come forth with his kercheif, or coif one his head, nor yet struck up his hosen upon his legs in company.  
Some men there be, 
Gestures of the face and Countenance and other parts.  that have a pride or a use to draw their mouths a little awry, or twinkle up their eye, & to blow up their cheeks, and to puff, and to make, with their countenance, sundry such like foolish and ill-favoured faces and gestures. I council men to leave them clean. For, Pallas 
Pallas.  herself, the Goddess, (as I have heard sun wise men say) took once a great pleasure to sound the flute & the cornet: & therein she was very cunning. It chanced her, on day, sounding her Cornet for her pleasure over a fontain, she spied herself in the water: and when she beheld those strange gestures she must needs make with her mouth as she played: she was so much ashaned of it that she broke the corner in pieces & cast it away. truly she did but well, for it is no instrument for a woman to use. And it becomes men as ill, if they be not of that base condition and calling, that they must make it a gain, & an art to live upon it. And look what I speak, concerning the unseemly gestures of the countenance and face: concerneth likewise, all the parts and members of man. For it is an ill sight, to lil out the tongue, to struck your beard much up and down (as many do use to do) to rub your hands together: to sigh, & to sorrow: to tremble or strike yourself, which is also a fashion with some: to reach and stretch yourself, & so retching, to cry out after a nice manner, Alas, Alas: like a country cloune, that should rouse himself in his couch.  
And he that makes a noise with his mouth in a token of wonder, 
Mopping or mowing.  and other while, of contempt and disdain: counterfeiteth an ilfavouredgrace. And Counterfeit things, differ not much from truths.  
A man must leave those foolish manner of laughings, 
Unseemly laughings.  groase and uncomely. And let men laugh upon occasion, and not upon custom. But a man must beware he do not laugh at his own gests, 
Laughing at his own Jests.  and his doings. For that makes men ween he would feign praise himself. It is for oother men to laugh that hear, and not for him that tells the tale.  
Now, you must not bear yourself in hand, that because each of these matters considered a part, is but a small fault, the hole therefore together should be as light: but you must rather persuade yourself that Many a little doth make a much, as I told you from the beginning. And how much less they be, so much the more need a man hath to look well in to them: because they be not easily perceived a far of, but creep in to us by custom, before we be a ware. And, As light expenses often used, in Continuance of time, do covertly waste and consume a great mass of wealth and riches: So do these light faults with the multitude and number of them, in secret overthrow all honest and good civility and manner. So that we must not make a light reckoning of them.  
Moreover, 
movings and gestures of the body.  it is a needful observation to bethink yourself, how you do move your body, and specially in talk. For, it many times chanceth, a man is so earnest in his tale, that he hath no mind of any thing else. One wags his head. Another looks bog and scowles with his brows. That man pulls his mouth awry. And other spits in and upon their faces with whom he talks. And some such there be that move their hands in such a sort, as if they should chase the flies as they go: which be very unhandsome & unseemly manners to use. And I have heard it said (for you know I have been familiarly acquainted with learned men in my time) that Pindarus 
Pindarus.  that worthy man was wont to say: that Whatsoever it were that had a good & savoury taste: was seasoned by the hands of the Graces. Now, what shall I speak of them that come forth of their studies with their pen in their ear: and nibble their hankercheifs in their mouth, or lie lolling with their leg over the table, or spit one their fingers, and of a number of other blockish gestures and fashions more than these, which cannot be all rehearsed well: nor shall not, I mean, put me to further pains to tell than all if I could. For, there be many perchance will say this is to much, that I have said already.  
FINIS.