¶ A Short discourse of the life of Servingmen, plainly expressing the way that is best to be followed, and the means whereby they may lawfully challenge a name and title in that vocation and fellowship.  
With certain letters very necessary for Servingmen, and other persons to peruse. With diverse pretty inventions in English verse.  
¶ Hereunto is also annexed a treatise, concerning manners and behaviours.  
Imprinted at London for Ralphe Newberrie, dwelling in Fleetestrete, a little above the Conduit.  
1578.   

Precepts for Servingmen.  

WHO dwells in place where Envy rains,  
and spends his life in clubbish soil,  
Shall reap but heaps of endless pains,  
and put his life to weary toil.   

Who so believeth tattling tales,  
Proceeding out of every pate,  
The fort of Envy surely scales,  
and yields himself to froward fate.   

Who heareth much and meddleth lest,  
shall scape the sling of chiding chaps:  
Who seeks to live at quiet rest,  
must be content what ever haps.    

❧ TO HIS LOVING Cousin Marmaduke Darell, and to all Servingmen: Walter Darell wisheth you long life, with happy days.  
MY well-beloved Cousin,  
each living thing created on earth, aswell the brutish beasts, as also feathered souls, yields tribute to man. The Ox yields his neck to the yoke, his skin to make shoes, and his flesh to be eaten. The Sheep, his carcase for the relief of man, his fleece to make cloth to cover our limbs, whereby we are defended from stormy Winter. The Goose gives her feathers to make shafies for defence of our country, her quills to make pens, which writ laws and statutes: whereby our Common weal is maintained and upholden. If this disposition be found in things mere void of reason and understanding, much more aught man to yield account of his talon, sith God hath created him after his own similitude and likeness, endued him with wisdom, and given him such pre-eminence, that all things on earth are under his subjection. The consideration whereof (my well-beloved Cousin) hath moved me at this present to pen this simple volume, as a testimony of the good will which I bear you: whose ability, had it been answerable to good will, would have then assuredly presented you with a jewel of far greater value, the which, if you accept in good part, my labour hath his hire, and you shall not only encourage me to employ my study to a matter of deeper judgement, but towards you always, during life, bind me firm and faithful.   

To the Reader.  
THIS one thing I find most true and evident (gentle Reader,) that nothing more infecteth the mind of man, than the horrible monster idleness: by the which we daily see, no small number drenched in the Seas of manifold miseries. Like as iron, if it be not occupied, will quickly wax rusty: and as a flower or plant placed in fertile soil, without water will loose the sap, and become withered: even so, the mind of man, if it be not exercised, will eftsoon become dull, and altar his quality. This being undoubtedly found most plain and manifest, that idleness is incident to so many casual calamities, hath encouraged me to present thee with these simpleinuentions, altogether for an exercise, than any vain glory: lest otherwise, my mind fraught with idleness, become dull for want of exercise. Thus, hoping thou wilt take them in good part, I bid thee farewell.   

¶ A pretty and short discourse of the duty of a Servingman.  
Although the Servingman be disdained, and had in small regard amongst a number: yet doth he deserve to be had in high estimation for his worthiness & calling. Who in all our country maketh a braver show at a triumph then the Servingman? Who sooner trained to battle and becomes a Soldier? Who better delighteth the mind with pleasant exercise, as hawking, hunting, and such like, than the Scruingman? Not every one having a blade by his side, or livery cote on his back, may be termed a Servingman: for some there are which will crowd themselves into their company, whose brutish lives never saw one point of service: such may be properly called Hinds. 
hinds.   
For four especial points there are, whereby to know a Servingman: Godliness, cleanliness, 
Four points to know a servingman, to be godly, cleanly, bold, and diligent.  Audacity, and Diligence, which are the chiefest ornaments that garnish his person, without the which he may not be embraced amongst that worthy company. For this word Servingman, hath great relation to his kind: for a Servingman may be applied to diverse commodities: as serving God, serving his Prince, serving his Country, which way he may profit his Common weal, and not to bear the name of a Servingman only for outward show, who in living are viler than senseless beasts, wanting civil government, who may be well compared unto Drones, which lurk in the hives of Bees, & live by their labours. But him I account worthy that calling, which for one singular quality 
Who deserve to be rightly and properly called Servingmen  deserveth the same: as some for the gift of the mind, some for the exploits in defence of his country, some for activity, some for cunning in weapons, some for riding of horses, some for service at a table, with divers other things apt for a servingman, which are evident tokens that he hath employed his youth to that end and purpose, whereby to attain to some preferment and win credit, whereby he may be received into the number of Servingmen.  
What maketh the Citizens, yea and the countrymen have in such disdain the servingman? Only 
Causes of contempt & disdain conceived against Servingmen.  his lewd government, as riot in apparel, drunkenness, quarreling in the streets, playing unthriftily at dice and cards their substance, swearing most detestable and horrible other: whereby we daily see, by that means they hazard their health, & discredit themselves by such disorder: who wanton consuming the same, are forced through extreme want and necessity, to rob and steal, that oft-times hardly they escape without peril of death. By this means they much hinder the preferment of Servingmen. Such have I thought good to be termed reprobates: for there cannot be more commendation 
Reprobates.  in a Servingman, then to see his life clearly lead by virtue, always applying his mind to honest exercise: for otherwise his estate and calling of due order and government is deprived: for happy days exceed the heaped sums. And of this be assured, such company as thou frequentest, of such conversation art thou judged. Therefore the more thou endeavourest thyself in virtuous exercises, the greater is thy glory and renown.  
Percase to some in this world, to live in such sort, thou shalt be accounted ridiculous. It may be of those which want government: but such as are lead by wisdoms rule, and policy, shall have thee in no small price and high estimation: the more virtue thou embracest, the greater is thy credit. And further, there is annexed to the duty of a Servingman, these three special points, to be Gentle, Trusty and Careful; for wanting Gentleness, he is contemned: having no Credit, always mistrusted: 
Gentle, Trusty, Careful.  void of Care, little regarded.  
We see daily by experience, how circumspect each Gentleman is, in receiving a servant, doubtful to take him without great warrantise: and this is, by reason that youth having their liberty, & nouzeled so long in idleness, are prove and apt to vice and wickedness, utterly undoing themselves through their own wilfulness, that impossible it is, to bring them to any perfection, as the old saying manifestly affirmeth. 
Naturam expellas furca licet, usque recurret.   
That which is engraffed by nature, neither threatenings, or any persuasion may altar: And if it happen such one, who having their liberty, be entertained into service: what offence so ever he commit to his master, he thinks it great scorn to be reformed, be is of so vile & dogged a nature: and this is the cause, so many are masterless: whereby it cometh to pass, that services are purchased by money. For a number, having good qualities, & descended of honest parentage: by their means are greatly hindered. For what is the common saying amongst most men? If a Servingman repair to a maid or widow, by way of marriage, whereby to win himself preferment, but straightway they murmur amongst themselves, backebiting him shamefully with slanderous speeches, calling him spend thirst. A lamentable hearing, that all Servingmen, for some lewd perfome sakes, should be condemned: for this is most certain, that the lest fault a Servingman comitteth, is greatly remembered: therefore it standeth them upon, to have special regard to avoid suspicion, considering their credit is their chiefest riches, which once being lost, of the world they are forsaken.  
another kind of Servingmen there is, which professeth that life but upon extremity, and that is the 
Servingmen upon extremity.  rich farmers son, who hearing the drum sound preparing to muster, is marvelous fearful to become a soldier, lamenting heavily to his cockering mother, to he a means for him he may not be pressed: for (saith he) I am your only darling, and to see me miscarry it would shorten your days: for of this I am assured, that if I go on warfare, I am never like to return home again to my father's house: for my fortune was read me, when I was a little one, that I should be shot quite thorough with a gun: therefore, (honey mother) as you tender my safety, procure me a service, that I may farrie at home. Then the mother, (to save the pretty soul) seeketh out some present, and in haste repaireth to some Gentleman of credit, & upon request made, forthwith is received, & thus for fear of his costard becomes a Servingman. Then Gentlemen perceiving they may have servants Gratis, 
Service without wages.  without wages, which will play the Servingmen, & drudge in their business, turn out old servitors to go pick daisies, who far from friends & acquaintance, being unexpert of trade and occupation, fall into desperation, by means of poverty.  
So that hereby the farmer maketh a rod for his own tail: for it standeth by good reason, that being once in adversity, if they have any spark of manhood in them, rather than they will want relief they will seek to come by it by unlawful means. And who will they lie in weight to rob, and be revenged of, but on such rich churls, as were causes of their undoing. And thus they, by their double diligence, labour & take such pains, that they creep in such favour with their master, who with their profitable service is so infected with covetousness, that he hath no consideration of his old servants true and faithful diligence, who for their long service, have well deserved a just recompense. So that the Gentleman and the Yeoman, aswell the one as 
Gentlemen & yeomen do cause service to decay.  the other, have brought services to a very weak stay, that a number at this day have servants and give them no wages: and if they have any one serving him, which wanteth living, if he hath not some good quality, in good faith of his master he shallbe little regarded.  
Therefore the estate of a servingman is brought to this point, that if he practise not some trade in his youth, let him be assured to beg in his age, as the proverb manifestly affirmeth: Qui antè non cavet post dolebit. He that hath no care afore what mischiefs may afterward ensue, shall greatly repent him.  
Those which upon such extremity profess the life of Servingmen, may be properly called sucklings, or otherwise Caterpillars: for they hinder 
Sucklings or Caterpillars.  those which long time have served, not profiting themselves, but wasting their substance: So that hereby they think to eschew one mischief, but undoubtedly they fall into a worse. For they use a kind of diligence, but to serve their own turns: But as soon as the brunt is past, they begin to wax lazy, and take heart at grass, thinking with themselves, What dizards are we having rich parents, 
A supposed speech.  and wealth enough to maintain our calling, to moil & toil in such sort, & other of our fellows, having little or nothing to take to, carry the countenance of Gentlemen, & we to live thus like slaves? Then labour is turned to loitering, the nosegay in the hat to an Ostrich feather, his russet slapp to a french hose, his buckled shoe to a Spanish pump, his sparing life to prodigality, until of 
All upon braver 〈…〉 e.  force they become soldiers: for they creep so deep into the merchants books, and become such proper Billmen, that in the end their silks sweats out all their revenues. Thus they, not content with their own estates, aspire to be Gentlemen, by means of their fine array, that they grow so lusty, that they think scorn of their own parents: but it is commonly seen, The forward tree beareth less fruit.  
What availeth the mariner to sail without his compass? What good doth a fair house wanting implements of household? What profiteth brave clotheses in any person wanting wit and government? They may be aptly compared unto a corrupt Carrion in a golden cup: let them deck themselves never so gay, & want the chiefest ornament, that is Wisdom, in good faith, they shallbe but embraced amongst the most sort of men for lucre or gain, and 
Wisdom a principal ornament.  foothed for that they have. Therefore, in my simple opinion, I think it more credit for them, to go in the fore ward amongst the number of yeomen, then to come last in the number of Gentlemen, being always fearful to challenge that title: so that, when all is gone, from the country cart they came, and to the London cart they must, that they ring such a peal that they draw a yard of clean hemp besides the knot.  
But now, to come to the chief point and purpose which beautifieth a servingman, which is, To 
To be godly is the chiefest thing that beautifleth a Servingman.  be godly. Nothing can prospero which we take in hand, or go about, unless we apply our mind to the service of God: for him must we honour above all things, either in heaven or earth, believe in him only to be our Saviour, ask for all good things of him alone: We must be content, not only for the glory of God, to bestow our goods, but also our life, if God so requireth: to cleave unto him as the foundation of all goodness, to look for health at his hands, to serve him in all kind of fortune, to seek his glory above all things, and to serve him according to his word, to walk in such sort as seemeth to his glory, not in banqueting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying: but always have God before our eyes. Remember we live not to eat, but eat to live: for nature is content with a little: whatsoever is superfluous, is sinful and damnable. Remember that Adam & Eve did fall through gluttony. Remember that No, when he was drunk, was 
Particular examples touching the in conveniences springing from excessive eating & drinking.  uncovered in his tent, & lay with his privities bore. Remember that Loath, when he was drunk, committed incest with his daughters. Remember when the children of Israel sat down to eat and drink, they did strait way fall into idolatry and worshipped the golden Calf. Remember that Amon, the brother of Absalon, was slain at a banquet, when he was drunk. Remember that Holofernes being drunk, was slain of a woman. Remember that at a banquet, it was granted that Saint john the Baptist should loose his head, and yet no cause why: but for informing the king with truth, which the flatterers misliked of, and could not abide. Remember the rich glutton, that fared daintily every day, was buried and thrown down into hell. Remember the wickedness of Sodom was pride, fullness of meat, and abundance of idleness. How many diseases come thereof? Solomon saith, Where is woe? where is sorrow? where is strife? where is brawling? where are oaths: but amongst those which use such vices? These are terrible histories to admonish a servingman: therefore it is the duty of a Christian, to eschew such company: for such as are drunkards and riotous persons shall come to poverty. Therefore we must frame our lives in such sort, that we may live soberly, discreetly, & sagely: to institute our lives in such sort, that our own conscience never accuse us of any evil, but testify with us, that 
Who may rightly challenge the name of a Servingman.  we live to do all things godly, and he that liveth thus, may rightly challenge the name of a Servingman.  
There is a certain drunkenness aswell in the mind, as in the body: for like as the body is counted in sober and safe estate, so long as it is not distempered with superfluity of meats and drinks: so in like manner, so long as the mind is not troubled with vicious affects, but remaineth in his native purity, it is recounted sober. For a man must have aspeciall respect to the mind, which being drunken with vices, what doth the sobriety of the body profit? If I keep my body sober, & in never so good temperance, and my mind be drunken with ire, desire of vengeance, whoredom, unclean thoughts, and such other carnal affects, and worldly lusts, what doth the sobriety of the body profit? Therefore, as the body is to be kept from drunkenness, so must the mind be kept from vices: so shall we honour God highly, serve our Prince truly, & profit ourselves greatly, and become right Serving men.  
And now touching the second point, called 
The second point required in a Servingman.  Cleanliness, which is meant, that we should wear our garments in comely order, according to our ability and calling, and according to such laws as by our Prince are set forth and established: and not always in excess, and delighting in new fashions, which declareth that our minds are unsteadfast, and always wavering: wherein we work our utter undoing. For we are so puffed up in such pride and prodigality, that if we may not wear silks and velvets, we think it a great disgrace to our personages, wherein we hinder our Country, & enrich foreign nations. For if we would wear cloth made in our own Country, according to our predecessors, we should find it a great deal more commodious, and minister much relief to a number of poor people, in setting them awork: where now, they remain in extreme poverty, and all by means of prodigality, being not content with the benefits of our Country. The Frock maketh not the Friar more devout, but is rather a sign of Religion, than a proof of holiness. The feathers make not the bird, nor the garments thee man. So, glory resteth not in the outward show, be it never so sumptuous, but in the person garnished with honest qualities. For the mind delighting in pride & prodigality, lusteth after much wickedness. It is not the rich ornament that carrieth commendation, but a modest mind and honest conversation. If a man, having small portion, spendeth riotously far beyond his ability, men straight way will conjecture that he cometh by it by fraudulent means, and is reputed amongst them as a wicked liver. And if any unlawful attempt be committed, be he assured, he shallbe suspected. And although he be neither privy or consenting to the fact, yet by means of suspicion his name is brought in question. Therefore, in any wise have respect to thy calling.  
I know a number within these few years, if I said an hundred I went within my compass, having large possessions left them, have prodigally consumed the same: wherein, if they had observed a civil order, they might have had sufficient enough to have kept their estates, and beside maintained good hospitality: But where wisdom wanteth, there followeth decay. A ship not guided, is subject to danger: the brains being distempered, the pate willbe idle: the roots being rotten, the tree will perish. And so thirdly concerning audacity, which may be properly called boldness, which being tempered with modesty, setteth forth a Servingman 
Audacity & boldness setteth out a Servingman in comely order.  in comely order: for this word Boldness, hath many good virtues in it comprehended. Be bold to honour God. Be bold to defend thy Country. Be bold to follow such laws as thy Prince hath ordained. Be bold to speak truth. By boldness in battle, great honours have been won. By boldness, mean persons have enjoyed fair Ladies. By boldness the valiant captain hath discovered many strange countries. And, as the proverb affirmeth: 
Audaces Fortuna juuat timidosqué repellit.  Fortune much favoureth the stout and the valiant: but the faint heart, and the coward she utterly forsaketh. And if it chance, thou art sent of any message, be bold to do thy duty: with humble reverence let thy talk be tempered, in such modest manner, that each word be couched in due order. Have respect to thy talk, that thou use comely gesture: thy legs not crooked, but straight as may be: neither thy hands playing with any of thy garments: thy eyes not staring, but always keeping a modest countenance. And if upon courtesy thou art called to any worshipful table, let not thy tongue be lavish, or run at liberty: so shalt thou discredit thyself, and be accounted simple. Use not often quaffing at thy meal, but three or four times let be sufficient. Reach not thy hands over the table, nor put thy fingers often in the dish: for it exceedeth good manner. For being a stranger, each one will carve thee. Keep not thy knife always in thy hand, but at such time convenient, as thou hast occasion to cut thy victuals, but lay it on the cloth along by the trencher. And if thou art asked a question, answer him sagely with humble reverence.  
And so fourthly, concerning diligence, which 
Diligence, what preferments it procureth to such as use it.  may be aptly applied to Painfulness. We see no man can attain to any riches, without great labour and diligence: as to watch, when other sleep: to travel, when other rest: to work, when other play. How many have we daily seen raised from mean estate, to rule and govern Common weals, and only by their diligence? Have not diverse by their industry been called to Prince's Counsel? Have we not seen the Lawyers pass by degrees, and determine causes in seat of justice? The simple scholar hath thereby much profited. The unskilful apprentice, in time hath been very cunning in his trade and occupation. By diligence, we may quite altar our wicked lives, and become Christians.  
Lastly, have not many men, serving their lords and masters, been rewarded with livings, through painfulness, whereby they have been maintained during their lives? Therefore, Lily herein most wisely affirmeth, saying these words: 
Nil tam difficile est quod non solertia vincat:  Nothing is so hard to learn, but by diligence it is brought to pass. Aristotle spent his youth very 
Aristotle. Plato. Cato.  riotously, and Plato was no less addicted to delight in amorous verse. Cato was old before he learned Latin letters, and yet become one of the greatest Orators of his time. These examples are sufficient to prove, that by diligence any perfection may be attained. Let no man stand so much in his own conceit, as to say, I will do no more than my covenant requireth: Or, if thou art descended of a worshipful stock, to grow in stomach by means of gentility. Neither, if thou art borne to any possessions, to think it a scorn by means of thy riches. For this hinders not so much thyself, but doth rather minister ill counsel to a number, and maketh them withdraw their minds from doing well, and to follow lewd example. For if thou be never so noble of birth, if thou once become a servant, whatsoever thou do to thy master above thy promise, if it tend to his profit and commodity, is but thy bounden duty. Again, if such a one which doth his duty far beyond his covenant, if for his labour he be not considered, in good faith he serves a simple master. But be he assured, although he find no reward on earth, his master in heaven shall largely yield him double recompense.  
I never saw as yet, any in my life, for too much diligence employed to their masters, that did ever want in their aged days: but many (the more is the pity) I do know, for slacking their duties, & untrusty service, have beggared their masters, who with a just plague for their labour, have been rewarded according to their deserts: whose estates at this present time are most miserable to behold: wandering as outcasts amongst the froth and 
Untrusty servants, froth and scum of the people.  scum of unhappy people. What if thou didst acquaint thyself to learn or practise all kind of things touching the charge of housekeeping, from the simple ploughman unto the superior servant? were this any disgrace to thy calling? no certainly, but rather a commodity: for thou shalt gather thereby great knowledge and understanding. For, what thing is more perfect than that, which we learn by experience? We may not think to live always in service, but at the last to have house and family of our own: then the experience which we have learned through our diligence, shall instruct us the better, what belongeth to the duty of our own servants.  
And if so be thou art in credit with thy master, that it pleaseth him to make account of thee above 
Pride & disdain must be avoided.  the rest of thy fellows, be not therefore proud, & disdain not thine inferiors, for so shalt thou have many enemies: but rather the more in credit, the more courteous. For, courtesy, is the only badge of a Gentleman and descendeth from nobility. Again, 
Courtesy the cognisance & badge of a Gentleman.  gentle communication and friendly countenance, one to another, expelleth all rancour and malice, & purchaseth many friends. Did not Antonius the lusty gallant prefer Cleopatra the black Egyptian for her incomparable courtesy before all the blazing stars in the city of Rome? It is the only pathway to praise, and the brightness thereof is eclipsed by pride and arrogancy. What is Honour, Wealth, Beauty, or brave Attire, without courtesy? It is assuredly nothing else but a goodly green tree, which flourisheth with leaves and blossoms, and bringeth forth no fruit.  
Some there are, which will stand highly upon their reputation, for that they have a reasonable portion to lean unto, and holds it great scorn to associate themselves with their fellows of inferior calling, being not of like ability: some again, for their stock and kindred. Such persons as will grow haughty by means of their wealth (being the gifts of Fortune, which is uncertain) abuse the 
Vanity and folly to brag of kindred or of riches.  same. And such which glory in themselves by means of their great alliance, declare to be in them but mere foolishness. Assure thyself of this, that if thou art allied to many, and yet hast but fews friends, what profiteth thee to boast of thy high birth? For, if thou hast never so many kinsmen, and if thou dost not endeavour thyself some kind of way to pleasure them, their friendship towards thee in time of need will become weak and very slender, and thou thyself little accounted of. But perhaps, if thou visitest them as a stranger, much welcome: but if thou account it as thy home, they will compare thee to a fresh water fish, which being kept long, will savour and become lothfome: Even so, if thou burden thy friends otherwise then a guest aught to do, they will repined at thee. Therefore, neither for birth or riches, be not disdainful, but the more courteous, if thou wilt be well thought of. For, have we not read of Kings governing whole kingdoms, and other Nobles, with large revenues living in all felicity, have abandoned their countries, and lived in most miserable bondage? Such is the reward of those that grow proud, and are unthankful for that they have. For 
Fortune fraudulent and faithless.  it is commonly seen, that when Fortune smileth most on any mortal wight, then works she greatest deceit. As she hath pleasure to raise mean persons to credit and dignity, so likewise taketh she as great delight to throw them down into adversity.  
Delight not to complain of any of thy fellows, 
Complaints must be eschewed.  to curry favour and disquiet thy master: but after a friendly manner use gentle persuasions, that if any of thy fellows have neglected his duty, tell him secretly that it may be reformed. At thy masters table have great care and diligence, and especially 
Precepts concerning manners and behaviour.  at such time as there are many strangers. Listen not to every tale that at the board is recited: and if so be it minister occasion of laughter, yet in any wise do thou refrain and keep silence. Let thine eyes be fixed round about the table, jest bread, beer, or clean trenchers be wanting. Never offer to take any dish from the table, unless thou settest a better in his place, or else when thou seest it almost empty: but if there be not diversity of dishes, then take up the table: notwithstanding, be not so hasty, but until such time as they have talked awhile after their victuals: but at the court, 
Quick Carvers in Court.  the sooner the better: for there are quick carvers. Use not often figging in and out with a trencher, more delighting to fill thy paunch, than thou hast care of thy service: although thy master espy thee not, yet strangers will mark thee. Use not any uncomely speech at thy meal, which shall exceed the bounds of honesty, amongst thy fellows, and 
Chastity once spotted is never reiovered.  chief before maids: considering their chastity is a dangerous treasure, which once being spoiled, is never recovered. For, that maid, whose ear is pliant to lascivious talk, although her chastity take no damage, yet suspicion doth grawe amongst the common people. Take heed in any wise of horrible swearing, lest that thou incur God's 
Swearing may not be used.  heavy displeasure: for Falsa iuratio est damnosa, vera iuratio est periculosa, nulla iuratio est secura. A false oath is damnable, a true oath is perilous, & no oath is safe, unless it be before a magistrate: in causes of controversy. Report not any thing which shallbe spoken at thy masters table, unless it touch thy Prince and Sovereign, for so shalt thou soon purchase his heavy displeasure: but always have this saying in thy mind, Video & taceo, I see and hold my peace: which (no doubt) well observed, shall further thy quietness. Challenge not to thyself finer far then reason requireth: neither find often 
Behaviour at board.  fault with any of thy victuals, unless thou seest it very scarce and unreasonable: revite not the cook for the same, until thy master be privy of his dealings: for some time thy master may far but homely by means of foul weather, and other casualties: for many misfortunes be happen in housekeeping. Therefore, be content with such fare as thou wouldst give thine own servants, if thou hadst a house of thine own. And if thou happen to travel 
Behaviour abroad.  to any place, where thou seest any novelties, which thou art assured thy master or masters well liketh of, spare not for the price, although it be dear: but buy somewhat. For, what is better esteemed then that which is geason? And it is worthy double thanks, then if thou were required.  
When thou ridest any journey with thy master, do not use to loiter far behind, and chief when he passeth through any town or village: but while thou art in presence of people, keep a comely order: for that is commendable, and much for his worship: but if thou be careless; then thou challengest an interest amongst the four and twenty orders.  
When thou comest at night to thy Inn, have care of thy master, that his lodging may in any wise be sweet and cleanly, his sheeets white washed, and very well aired, his boots see forthwith made clean and stuffed with straw in time of foul wether, and bring them up to his chamber: see nothing be wanting when he riseth next morning. Have care to the Tapsters, what necessaries they bring, and reckon what things they set on the table: for 
Tapsters use juggling.  they will use juggling to maintain their bravery. And when thou art abroad in journey with thy master, be not negligent: but at night, when thou goest to bed, and quietly art laid, call to mind what things thou hast done all the whole day, as also what weighty affairs have been committed to thy charge, and thou shalt with continual use bring thyself to a most quick and perfect memory, and shalt not only by this means have a good remembrance, but beside, if thou hast spent the day in the abuse of God, and his glory, thou mayst with a repentant heart call thine own conscience to reckoning, and ask God mercy, and the sooner prepare thyself ready when God shall call thee.   

Certain Letters very necessary for Servingmen.  

W. B. to his singular good Lord for his captivity.  
RIght honourable,  
the consideration of my present calamities, causeth me to make my careful complaints, with all humble and dutiful submission, persuading myself, that there is no such way to remedy my grief, and restore again to itself a mind perplexed and pitifully plunged through diverse deep distresses, than there to unfold the same, where justice with mercy, where severity with remorse, where pity with pardon in the meanest offences ruleth and hath her Sovereignty. And whereas I know myself guiltless of any grievous and notorious 
Remedies against grief.  crime, I am the more emboldened to writ unto your honour, not doubting, but there I shall found favour and grace, where God and Nature hath most abundantly bestowed the same: and that you will of your exceeding bounty, clemency, and goodness, pardon folly not joined with any impiety, I beseech you, even for his sake that saved us all, that you will not suffer me to be utterly cast away: 
A petition opening his present case.  for I am destitute of money and all manner of friendship: and unless you speedily show grace and favour, I utterly perish, being threatened to be thrown down amongst the froth and scum of the unhappy people. I trust your honour remembreth well, that more true praise and glory is attained by pardoning, then by punishing. All the Roman Princes were of this opinion. We hold it (saith the history) more honourable, to pardon such as offend us, then to chasten those which resist our power. And verily, punishment is a thing natural and human: but to give pardon and life, is the gift and blessing of God: by which it cometh to pass, that men esteem not the greatness & majesty of the immortal God for the punishment where with he correcteth us, as for the mercy he useth. Wherefore, I humbly yield, and most willingly submit myself to your honour's grace, favour, and mercy.   

R. S. to his friend T. D. for his long imprisonment.  
RIght honourable.  
If two brutish creatures, together long continuing, be separated, they will (according to their kind) show forth a passion: the Lion will roar, the Cow will yell, the Swine will grunt, the Dog cannot but fill the air with an intolerable and irk some howling. If this disposition be found in things mere void of reason & understanding, much more is the condition of man subject to sorrow and heaviness, in whom Nature breedeth a more quick and raging sense of feeling: in so much (I think verily) that so many times a man suffereth death, how often in a day he seeth himself shut up, or divided from the society he dearly and tenderly loveth: or exiled the place which he chief liketh. It is (no doubt) right terrible to the flesh, to die with the sword: but to 
To be in perpetual sorrow and heaviness of mind, what it may well be termed.  be in perpetual sorrow and heaviness of mind, may not so well be termed a death, as a very fury and hellish torment. And better it were for many to suffer without fear, that which they expect in grief and pensiveness of spirit, then trembling to be always in martyrdom. Right honourable, I utter not these speeches, to show my guilt, which I trust appeareth not heinous in your eyes: as to manifest my grief, which to me is found most tedious, and too too exceeding raging: feeling (as it were) my body faint and wearied, being pressed with the weighty burden of your heavy displeasure.  
Wherefore (most worthy counsellor) exercise upon me the plenty of your bounty, that I may living rather commend your mercy, then in silence complain of your severity. And thus leaving your worthiness in the hands of your counsel, I wish you those felicities which your own heart desireth.   

H. L. to his singular good mistress, for procuring his pardon.  
THis one thing I learned by the instinct and benefit of nature, (my Sovereign good masters) had I never perused learned treatises discoursing manifoldly the self same in effect: that, Happy days exceed the heaped sums, and long life, (according to the opinion of all) to them chiefly is found most sweet and plausible, who being dangerously entrapped, have despaired of pity, or as 
Long life, to whom it is most sweet and pleasant.  wanderers through want of a skilful Pilot, have fallen into the swallowing surge of Silla, ready to be devoured in that gulf, and as it were yielding to so great a misery and wretchedness. For this stands in common regard with all, rather to seek to prolong our life, then increase our wealth. And the Sovereign delight, and the pleasure of our days, is the solace of life. This being undoubtedly found most true and evident, that there is in us engraffed an earnest and ardent affection of life, and that life to them is found most dear & pleasant, who have been in peril of death: How should I be addressed, or in what manner may I yield all observance to her, by whose petition and earnest suit, I have avoided the terror of death? verily, it is not in my slender capacity to disclose the duty that answers your desert, the insufficiency and baseness of the one, is so much inferior to the other, 
Desert exceeding duty.  in the exceeding greatness and goodness. Wherefore, sith my skill and ability is too simple to express lively a thing of so high a nature, I close my lips, as one vanquished with the excellency of your goodness. Thus rendering imnortall praise for your great goodness, and craving pardon for my presumptuous boldness, I most humbly take my leave, beseeching God to lend you long life with happy days.   

W. S. to his loving father, declaring that the cause why he did not writ, was for his unhappy state.  
I Have this long time forborn to writ unto you (dear father) not in any negligent respect, as not remembering with what humility I am bound by the law of God to obey you, or with what affection I am enjoined by the law of Nature to reverence 
The cause of slacking duty.  you: but Fortune, since my departure from you, seemeth to have dealt with me so frowardly, that I have been by no good order induced to give you intelligence of my estate, jest that percase the opinion of misliking which is already in your engendered, viewing the continuance of these my so many casual calamities, might to my great hindrance confirm in you a judgement. And yet, what have I not tofore painfully abode, which presently I do not with all patience suffer, retaining always a resolute and unconquerable mind? For this, by perusing witty and profound discourses of Philosophers, I learn: that albeit adversity hath power to vex and trouble the condition of mortal men: yet it hath no power to change the constancy and courage of a valiant and puissant mind, which in all resolutions and changes of times, retains one firm and unmovable virtue: Even as a tree which being well rooted, although it be shaken with many violent winds, yet in his firm there is no power to supplant him. We through adversity become humble, wise, and perfect: and the offender is better reformed by the proof of afflictions, then by any other means: for, knowing them to be the messengers of God, he debateth not the griefs he feeleth, but calleth his own conscience to a reckoning: 
Afflictions are the messengers of God.  he glorifieth himself in tribulation, knowing that tribulation brings patience, patience breeds experience, experience raiseth hope, hope thus wrought and couched, cannot be confounded. In consideration whereof, I deem him most unhappy, which hath not been infortunate: for he that 
He is unhappy that hath not been in fortunate.  hath not been accussomed with adverse and crooked Fortune, hath lest power over his passions. And such as never have felt perplexity, can little judge of the worthiness of patience. Wherefore (dear father) mislike not of that which in the end brings true and perfect felicity. I most humbly take my leave, craving your fatherly favour & blessing.   

T. D. to his inconstant wife, for her malicious stomach against him.  
WIfe, I do not a little marvel at your uncourteous dealing towards me: howbeit, as I have just cause to stomach the same, so assure yourself, I will not be unmindful in yielding recompense, as opportunity and occasion shall serve. In the mean while, I am content to speak little & suffer much, not for that I stand in awe of you or any of yours, but that I see you void of reason and government 
Women are void of reason and government.  belonging to a woman, whose crooked inclination is such, and in you so deeply rooted, that it can no more change your condition, than the viper his poisoning, or the Leopard his spots. You profess outwardly a marvelous show of religion, I much marvel then that such mischief can harbour in so godly a creature, whose undermining pate sought means to shorten my days. But now I find the old proverb true? Amongst sweet flowers doth lurk the stinging Snake. It is not the point 
Latet anguis in herba.  of any woman once coupled in the bands of Marriage, to minister any occasion of slander, whereby the life of him, whom she hath peculiarly chosen, may be defamed: but by all means possible to endeavour herself to avoid suspicion, weighing that all 
The glory of the wife resteth in her husband.  her glory resteth in her husband, and that in the husband is contained the estimation of the wife. If this be the point of any honest woman to thirst after blood, let all the world judge: for mine own part, I can but lament your folly. In hurting me you hinder yourself: I bear with your infirmity, for that you are a woman. Wherefore, if you will further your quietness, leave off those slanderous speeches, jest the world condemn you, & yield you up to misery and shame.   

H. W. to M. H. being moved without cause.  
I Received your letters, which when I had read, me thought they were so dark and obscure unto me, that scarce I understood your style: notwithstanding, in perusing them over, I partly understood your meaning. But now to the purpose. Have I gone about at any time to shorten your days? or 
Speeches expostulatory.  have I sought mèanes to erect bloody scaffolds of murder, whereby you might possess your untimely grave? I perceive for a trifle you can frame complaint, but your words uttered without discretion, would move a Saint to use cursed language. And whereas you lay an action of unkindness against me that I should deliver a ring to one which doth profess little friendship or good will towards 
Charged with an action of unkindness.  you: this is (as it were) a going about the bush, & (as one would say) to steal a Goose & stick down a feather. Well, I fear me your flattering face will cost me a glass of dissembling water. Thus leaving at this time to trouble you any further, I yield you up to your own folly.   

A. D. to his friend M. B. that he would procure her father's good william.  
I Received your letters, giving you a thousand thanks for your wise and courteous answer: advertising you, that I mean to procure my friends, which shall (I doubt not) but according to my expectation, move your father of the excellent love & 
Duty in the one, wisdom in the other.  singular affection which I bear towards you. And for as much as duty bindeth you to obey your parents: so likewise wisdom warneth me, not only to obey, but also to endeavour myself to be at the will and disposition of my friends. For sure, your godly bringing up, and your virtuous disposition, hath so bewitched my understanding, that will I or nill I, my heart honours you. And if all the friends 
Pathetical phrases.  I have would hinder my desires, yet are they not able to quench the fervent flame which tormenteth my fancy, and vexeth the lively spirits of my mind. Therefore, I shall desire you from the bottom of my heart, that when soever my suit shallbe heard, or that by the means of my friends, the effect of my love shallbe opened unto your parents, you will remain a just and steadfast friend towards me, who hath already yielded himself, his life, and all that he hath into your hands. If you seem to judge otherwise, unhappy wretch that I am, you thrust 
To be thrust down from the top of hope, to the bottom of despair.  me down headlong from the top of all hope and comfort, into the bottomless pit of cruel despair, where I shall as one bereft of a heavenly joy, torment myself with a hellish care. But when I call to mind the sundry virtues that God and Nature hath endued you withal, I fully persuade myself, that such cruelty cannot harbour in so gentle an heart. And thus I cease, etc.   

T. B. to his singular good L. for his liberty, being accused without desert.  
IN most humble and dutiful manner showeth unto your honour, that whereas it pleased your good Lordship to accept most courteously my former letters, I am the more emboldened at this time to writ unto your Lordship's grace and lawful favour, desiring your protection no further to extend itself, than the righteousness of my cause, and the simplicity and plainness of my meaning showeth forth itself. My cause lawfully and generally is 
A clause excusatory.  this. I am for an attempt lately committed, more lightly accused of some unknown crime and trespass, then truly accused and substantially convinced of any apparent fault. My good Lord, not every misty and dusky vapour, but an exceeding heavy & dark cloud well pressed prophesieth rain. Not every vain suspicion so fond imagined, or lightly 
His allegory expounded.  fraught, but firmly grounded, bringeth with it undoubted truth & estimation. The state of my cause, the condition of my accuser, with the particular notes thereof, may fully manifest to your honour the cause to be honest and good. I humbly therefore pray, that your Lordship will, with your helping hand, assist my hapless hap, giving you to understand, that I have been in durance this four months, long destitute of all manner of favour, & friendship, finding in myself no more force remaining, whereby I shallbe able to bear this heavy & intolerable burden.   

H. B. to his inconstant and cruel wife.  
WIfe, I fear me, jest that you, either through too much familiarity which you have with some froward and sinister friend of mine, or malicious persuasion of others: or, (to speak the truth) through an extreme oversight of you, in deed, by detecting a secret sting of malice in your own breast long conceived, and unto the world unknown until this time, have changed your accustomed quality, and causeth you to be so malicious and full of envy. For, how can that woman brag of honesty, which is found to her own husband not so much courteous, as to show some spark of good nature 
That wife hath little honesty which hateth her husbands but she none at all that procureth his death.  in time of danger: but most cruel and full of tyranny, in procuring his death? When this shall be openly known and manifestly published: what countenance will all men give you which defend honesty? I say, what entertainment, what cheer, what commendation may all such women yield to you, who are directed by wisdoms rule and policy, whose lives are clearly led by virtue? Consider that virtue is the only beauty that carrieth commendation with it at all times, which maketh men 
Virtue commendeth such as have it.  to love those, whom they never knew. It is the only pathway to praise, and the brightness of all beauty is eclipsed by cruelty.   

E. D. to my L. S. in the behalf of his kinsman.  
MY very good Lord,  
I have an earnest suit to your honour, touching one of my near kinsmen, who hath a great goodwill to bestow his time in your Lordship's service, and of all noble men hath made you his singular choice. Wherefore, if you would of your accustomed goodness, viewing the person, to receive him, you bind me in triple bonds to requited your courtesy. And thus craving your friendly answer herein, I most humbly take my leave.   

R. S. to a widow to be circumspect in her choice.  
AS my ability is not of the greatest to bestow on you such gifts, as (perhaps) my well meaning mind pretendeth: yet am I not so spurned of Fortune, but that I enjoy an honest portion. As my years are young, my wisdom but small to give counsel: yet, nevertheless, if my words shall savour of reason, yield thanks to the writer, and I rest contented. As God hath blest you with the 
Wholesome precepts and documents.  gifts of Fortune, forget not the giver, neither yet abuse them. Lean to such friends as are wise and of good experience. Overshoot not yourself so far, to like without great deliberation, jest your delights be tempered with pills of sorrow, exchanging your quiet days into extreme misery. And, in your choice beware of painted bravery: for, to match yourself to such, bringeth a gnawing repentance. Therefore, let your renown be assured on such a one, which is garnished with honest qualities. Even as the valiant captain, before he 
A man endued with honest qualities maketh his wife renowned.  buy horses, he runs them, trains them, makes many trials of them, refusing the unlikely, & maketh choice, of what price so ever he buy them: even so in this short race of life, which you mean to perform with your husband, in comfort, solace, and pleasure, you must not stand so much upon contemplation of wavering love, which perhaps is professed unto you for lucre or gain, but with advise and consideration weigh the manners and conditions of your husband, with whom you pretend that way: for in him resteth your estimation, and renown. If thy husband be unchaste, sharp in words, doubtful to trust, vain in life, wilful to be ordered: If lastly he hath no conformity with thy conditions, then to his own liking: Will not these things be an occasion of thine untimely death? Yea alas, they are poisons of themselves, and galls whose bitterness can never be taken away. If you seem to divide the pleasures which you challenge peculiar to yourself, shall you not then be deceived in your vain choice, for whom is reserved a smarting, penance? If you marry more for greediness of gain then any settled affection, it is impossible, 
To marry for gain and not for affection purchaseth an unquiet life.  but you shall purchase to yourself an unquiet life. For, Friendship kindled in light heat will soon vanish, by means of the small force: where as such which rest upon the unmovable pillar, are never subject to ruin, as long as the body is subject to life. I do not deny, but wealth doth well: and where want is, there cold friendship remaineth. 
Cold friendship where want is.  neither do I counsel you to marry for mere love, for diminishing your substance: but as your living is able to maintain an honest port, so in devour to match yourself to some worthy parsonage, exchanging your solitary life for a pleasant liberty. Wherefore, sith a pleasant liberty is of precious price, make your pleasure privy to your choice: & when you bend your affection to any creature, be sure to angle with an enchanted hook, and this 
To angle with an enchanted hook.  being done, you shall live in safety.   

R. D. to a widow, for absenting herself upon certain speeches.  
IF ever fish desired the sounding and depth of waters: or woman with child were desirous to see her offspring, and to be delivered: I assure yourself, none can be more joyful of any thing, than I would be to enjoy your presence, nor gladder to see you contented. Wherefore (good widow) come hither, and pass away the time as you have done, and think of me according to my meaning, & then assure yourself, you will not fall into these womanlike storms (undeserved) with your friend, which meaneth but well. I speak not this to flatter you, I protest before God: I think you have reason sufficient to consider, that either it booteth or needeth not: but for that I would see you in friendly order, as I have done, hoping that that quarreling speech shall not be used. For I have set down my rest in this order: if you grieve or be disquiet, it shall nothing content me: if you laugh, I will do 
A mutual condolencie or sufferance promised.  the like for company: so that I hope to deal in such order, as shall neither offend you, God, nor the world, if you do me right. And what injury as hath been offered, I have forgotten, esteeming them vain, and as women's humours. And thus farewell, wishing to you as well as to myself.   

W. S. to a widow whose malice was somewhat digested.  
BEing fully persuaded by some of my friends, that your choler is somewhat digested, I am by that means the more willing to writ unto you these few lines, to manifest plainly, that these womanlike storms, which of late you have dwelled in, do peradventure savour of a self-willed malice, than any reason that led you to the contrary. For, I do assure you, behind your back, in report or otherwise, I have not offended you, although perhaps you will say to my face, I have more plainly 
He excuseth himself of offence, by charging his widow with obstinate malice.  then wisely dealt with any thing, otherwise than I should. But for any hurt ever meaning, other than I would should happen to myself, than God confounded me. For mine own part, I am persuaded, that what in malice you will have, I am content it shall nothing anger me, unless it hurt yourself: the which I would be sorry to see. Wherefore, as I am content to tread down such injuries as have been offered unto me, who never offended: so, if you forget such slanderous speech, than I think my labour well bestowed, you must think I have been beholding unto you. First let me recompense you, and then if I abuse you, blame me. In the mean while, think me not of so vile a nature, for goodwill to yield you hatred, etc.   

T. B. to his loving friend M. D declaring what love he beareth her.  
F. S. as one not a little sorrowful at your soudon departure out of town, for that I had an earnest occasion to have spoken with you, hoping to have renewed the familiarity of our old acquaintance, 
Long absence breedeth forgetfulness of familiarity.  which is almost forgotten, by means of my long absence, which if I had not come at so unfortunate a time, might (no doubt) have been somewhat renewed. Notwithstanding, sith there is no remedy, I will arm myself with patience, trusting hereafter we may meet again, where (no doubt) I may manifest unto you the good will I bear you, and utter such secrets as long time have lain hidden within the secret closet of my mind unuttered, which I only refer to your maidenly judgement. And surely, for the modesty, courtesy, and honest behaviour which I see you endued withal, yields me such good liking of you, that if every penny I have were worth a pound, I could vouchsafe to make you the mistress of it, and as soon choose you 
He desireth to be dealt withal as he deserveth.  for a wife and spouse, as any creature on the earth: whose words, if hereafter they be not agreeable to my deeds, then let my good will be rewarded with flouts.   

H. D. to her singular good uncle, being an executor.  
FOrasmuch as the shortness of time doth somewhat 
Acknowledgement of benefits received, as well corporal as mental.  hinder me at this time, to do my duty, as well of commendations, as of hearty thanks, for your large and innumerable benefits, that is to say, in finding me not only with the gifts of the body, but also with the gifts of the mind: by the which all things in this world are maintained and upholden. We see daily before our eyes, that the Common wealth is maintained with the gifts of the mind, that is, wisdom, and learning. But now to the purpose. If there be any spark graven in me, the which spark may engender a great deal, (as this wise and prudent saying doth affirm: 
Concitat ingentes flammas scintilla minuta.   
A little spark engendereth a great deal of fire:) then am I bound with an ardent bond of love, to tender with all endeavour continual thanks. But chiefly before I writ any further, I aught to pray 
A conclusion answering to his exordium.  to God for your prosperity and health, and to thank him of his goodness, that he hath left me such a friend, (my father being dead,) that will not grudge to bestow such large benefits on me, and to accept me as I were his own.   

W. D. to his loving friend M. G.  
THE long absence, sithence my departure, can no less minister occasion to writ, than my will is apt and agreeable to accomplish the same: not using any variety of words, but rather a friendly greeting, according to your worthiness: not doubting, but you will be agreeable to the old saying: To accept the heart of the giver more than the value of 
Not the gift but the giver is chief to be considered.  the gift: the which accepted, I rest contented: and so presuming upon your courtesy, I thought good to writ these few lines unto you, which are the messengers of my well meaning mind towards you: wherein (I hope) that the long absence, or distance of place, shall not be the occasion of forgetfulness. Thus reposing myself wholly in your wonted friendship, I commit you to the Almighty.   

E. S. to his singular good masters, for redeeming one of his friends, being in durance.  
Mistress,  
I am once again enforced to writ, 
A letter intercessorie or mediatory.  and not without just cause, it toucheth so near my dear friend: wherein, if you further my suit, you bind me (during life) to rest at your commandment. A matter of some importance, the setting free of one M. L. whose estate my L. knoweth very well, and meaneth to retain him into his service. Which person, if you were acquainted with, as I myself am, his honest behaviour & wisdom 
Commendation derived from manners and behaviour.  is such, that you would lament his long imprisonment, and desolate life, and rejoice again at his liberty, when you shall enter into the society and fellowship of so worthy a Gentleman, Wherefore, I most earnestly desire you, that whin my L. shall be at convenient leisure, you will put him in mind with daily suit, that this my friend may be released. In which doing you bind me always firm & faithful to you and your progeny.   

R. C. to the justices of peace, for the S.  
RIght worshipful.  
These are to require you, in the absence of my husband, who is not in Country to answer his own cause, to stand his friend touching the S. and to assess him at the sum 
Allegations for the mitigation of the S. by non ability.  aforetime paid, which was ten pounds, & now is twenty: whose ability is not so able to bear it, as of him is reported, by means he is indebted, and grown to a greater charge. Wherefore, if the truth were thoroughly known unto you, either he himself present before your worships, to answer his own case: I doubt not but you would bear with his disability, and assess him at the sum aforetime paid. In which doing, you minister unto us both an acceptable pleasure, and give us occasion, according to our power, to requited your courtesy.   

G. W. answer to his brother, that she would be circumspect in her choice.  
I Received your letter the xj. of August, the sight 
Concerning matters of marriage counsel given and taken.  whereof hath ministered unto me no small comfort, yielding you most hearty thanks for the great good will you bear me: whose good counsel, if I should not have in regard, in me might be reputed great unthankfulness. And whereas you writ unto me, to be circumspect in my choice, it standeth me upon (not doubt) to take great deliberation: it toucheth so much my making, or undoing. Wherefore, if it be so, that I do marry again, (as all is in the will of God,) assure yourself, I will not couple myself in such sort, but that the life of him whom I take, shall be of credit, and carry good commendation: neither spurned of Fortune, neither forsaken of friends. And until such time as you come to L. I will not make any promise. I would have been glad, if your affairs had not been otherwise, to have had your advise in drawing my husbands will: but your sudden departure was a let to the contrary: which did not a little discomfort me, being at that time deeply distressed, by means 
A necessary cause to engender sorrow in the wife.  of my husband's sickness: knowing none, in whom I might repose any such confidence, as in you, being my natural brother, whom I make dearest account of.   

H. S. to his friend. T. D.  
FRiend D.  
for that I did not take my leave of you, I am very sorry, and ashamed: nevertheless, 
A letter excusatory for departing from his friend unsaluted.  time did so fall out, that I could not, although willingly I would. Therefore, in recompense of my mishap, and so sudden departure from you, without a farewell, I presume at this time, (by your patience) to trouble you with a few lines of remembrance: although but rude, yet they proceed from a faithful heart, & such a one, which wisheth to you as well as to myself: trusting, that you, being my friend, will take them in good part. And thus far you well.   

A. F. to his sister H. F. giving her counsel in prosperity, to be mindful of adversity.  
RIght well-beloved sister,  
among many things which are incident to this our life, there is none 
An epistle persuasory.  more circumspectly to be considered, than the variableness of fortune, and the not so often as sudden alteration of the best and most sovereign benefits, where with this our transitory life is blessed and advanced. Wisely, and not so wisely as truly said a philosopher, that What we have, we have not: 
A sage sentence  and what we lack, we possess. Meaning hereby the uncertainty of those things, whereupon our life principally dependeth. For, though we have this days prosperity, we may not withstanding tasse to morrows adversity: And though this hour minister mirth unto us and store of joyfulness, yet may the next peradventure overwhelm us with heaviness. Thus much is spoken of me, to put you in mind of the time past, the time present, and the time to 
The end of his purpose.  come: for that you have been sometimes a Gentlewoman under obedience, though now you have others at service and commandment, and how long this liberty will last, he best knoweth, from whose sight nothing is secret: That by conferring time with time, and circumstance with circumstance, you may forget to be ambitious, proud, and insolent: and remember to be lowly, content and indifferent. The best things and the fairest, shall sometimes suffer 
A clause comparative.  shipwreck: And what is there or hath been though never so precious and amiable, but hath in the end sustained loss of valour, and lack of love? The sweetest perfumes in time give up their virtue. The fairest flowers keep not continually their colour. A calm followeth a storm, and after a tempest ensueth security. Finally, there is nothing but it hath a spring and a fall, a Winter and a Summer, an ebb and a flow, a day and a night: I mean, a time wherein to be amiable and gracious, and a time to be despited and counted contemptuous. Wherefore (good sister) as your gifts are the more rare and 
His conclusion exhortatory.  excellent, so let your wisdom have the larger government: that in the pearl of your beauty, you remember wrinkled old age: in health, think on sickness: in wealth, be mindful of poverty: in abundance, consider of scarcity: in ease, forget not labour: finally, two: all your prosperity to accounted of the contrary. But leaving you to the gracious guiding of the highest, I bid you farewell. Your loving brother,  
A. F.    

Certain inventions in verse, devised at sundry idle times.  

W. D. to his friends, exhorting them to beware in time.  

MY secret griefs bewray my mind,  
I sigh to think on passed youth,  
Bend so to pleasures of the world,  
Respecting profit vain forsooth.  
I served in hope of Courtly gift,  
No whit esteeming crooked age:  
Green youth did headlong run so swift,  
I lamed myself in fancies barge.  
No care I took, I sailed on still,  
(God wot) to haven of vain delight:  
Until that reason set up sail,  
Provoking will to banish quite.  
Hence slowly sailed my broken Bark,  
And waiteth time till Fortune please.  
The Tackles torn, the Mast remained,  
Half spoiled in the surging Seas.  
By mermaids singing passed she forth,  
Environed round with gaping jaws,  
Now Neptune King help thou (quoth wit,)  
I fall into their gaping jaws.  
Now like to ship on boiling Seas, 
Youth compared to a ship sailing at uncertainty.   
Compare I youth and gadding years,  
On dangers tossed a thousand ways,  
Unless the helm good counsel steers.  
Regarding sport, I speilde my youth,  
Time willed me think on withered age:  
When pinching cold shall nip thy limbs,  
How wilt thou shun his angry rage?  
Eschew to drink on wanton cup,  
Remember years do waste away:  
Eschew each mate of Venus' troup, 
Exhortations full of good counsel.   
Ne care thou for such wanton play.  
And quite detest all fancies fond,  
Unfold the tables of thy life:  
Give up thy right of childish years,  
Have care to get for wedded wife.  
To turn in time is wisdom great,  
In wishing when it is too late,  
Shall 'cause thee fall in deep decay,  
And bring thy end to wretched state.  
Where wealth doth want, there friendship cold:  
Example seen by daily proof,  
Bought wit is dear, (the Proverb says:)  
Unstayed heads will soar aloof.  
Trust not thy foe once reconciled,  
Unless thou seek thine own decay,  
And credit not each glozing style,  
In trust is treason often (men say.)  
Now farewell youth and wanton will,  
Detesting Follir train,  
I yield myself to wisdoms skill,  
Supposing pleasures to be vain.  
Proof wills me yield myself with speed,  
Once caught in snare to shun the trap,  
Respecting profit wisdom brings,  
Then shall I sleep in virtues lap.  
W. D.    

Of one, who thinking to have wedded a rich widow, purchased an unquiet life.  

I Liked where no love was,  
I matched in hope to gain,  
I sought for sweet, and tasted sour,  
And wedded proud disdain.  
I lead a loathed life,  
Exiled from present joy.  
The yoke of bondage wear I on,  
Which threatens mine annoy.  
I sailed in seas of grief,  
And washed with waves of woe,  
I must abide appointed course,  
My fate ordeines it so.  
I now must weave the web,  
Which canckard care hath spun,  
And reel up that against my will,  
Which youth would gladly shun.  
I sow my seeds in vain,  
I plant on barren stock, 
Pretty and pithy.   
And naught I get but blossom flowers,  
For wealth is under lock.  
For this by proof I find,  
Not well he often speeds, 
A proper allusion.   
That sows his corn in such a soil,  
Where nothing grows but weeds.  
Thus live I void of joy,  
And spoil my youth with age,  
My life is worse than the bird,  
Which fast is penned in cage.  
I lead a sparing life,  
The dainty fare I shun,  
And yet I waste, I know not how:  
As snow against the sun.  
A just revenge (no doubt,)  
To me for passed life,  
For that I live, as I do now,  
With such a dogged wife.  
Perforce must be content, 
Patience perforce.   
Though fate on me do frown,  
I must content me with my lot,  
Since fortune keeps me down.  
W. D.    

Of one which commended diligence, and despised bravery.  

I Serve in hope of that to come, 
Short and sweet.   
I pass not for no slavery,  
I see a number are undone,  
And all for painted bravery.  
I know a number lusty lads,  
Which had possessions plenty,  
And begin streets with piteous moans,  
And find rewards but scanty.  
Wherefore I'll yield my sceptre up,  
And hold myself contented,  
And labour like the busy Ant,  
For fear my purse be empty.  
W. D.    

W. D. to his unconstant friend.  

AT age of twenty years and two,  
Dame Venus told me on,  
To fix my fancy upon a maid,  
whose person now is gone.  
I liked her well, she loud me dear,  
I wooed her day and night:  
Ill hap was mine to love her well,  
And yet to loose her quite.  
For mischief made such means,  
And woorked such debate,  
That I of force was made to yield,  
And love was turned to hate.  
Then right and reasen durst not speak.  
For might withstood the same,  
Her faith they counted but a jest,  
And termed it Venus' game.  
For my good will thus have I got. 
Whilst one beats the bush another takes the birds.   
Most bitter brawl and strife,  
For she whom I did fancy best,  
is now a wedded wife.  
Now lie I drenchte in deadly lake,  
No mercy may I crave,  
Her friends for spite have forced her quite,  
No comfort I can have.  
Now do I wallow in the woes  
of Cupid blinded boy:  
My pleasures all are turned to pain,  
My darling looks so coy.  
The great good will betwixt us twain,  
is now abandoned quite,  
She naught regards my journeys cold,  
nor riding night by night.  
Perforce must be content,  
For mourning is but vain,  
To like or love where love is lost, 
To love wher● love is lost is double grief.   
increaseth double pain.  
And thus I end, far well, far well.  
Farewell, again I say:  
I would be sorry at my heart,  
to see thee cast away.  
W. D.    

Certain verses written to a maid, to be circumspect in her choice.  

Wisdom doth warn all maids that be wise,  
a heed for to have, in hearing every wind, 
A lesson for maids to learn that are wise.   
Jest lessons lewd, of such as can devise,  
Trim tempered talk, to allure the simple mind:  
Else may she through secret grief,  
Repent too late their rash and lewd belief.  
Delight not in words, for they are but wind:  
Approve him well that shall be thy mate,  
Remember in shows is harboured deceit,  
Eschew it in time, jest it be too late.  
Love him therefore that loves thee again,  
Long else shalt thou love in dolour and pain. 
Love and beloved.   
W. D.    

An Epitaph upon the death of the worshipful Edward Darell, Clarke of Catrie of the Queen's Majesties most honourable household.  

IF ever 'cause constrained man,  
with shrieks to fill the Sky,  
If ever woe did will a wight,  
with tears his tunes to try:  
Then cause have I poor silly man,  
to wail with watered eyes,  
The death of Darell dead and gone,  
which cold in earth now lies.  
Whose death a thousand thousand times  
I do lament full sore:  
And whilst my breathing ghost remains,  
I shall do evermore.  
If plaints or woeful cries at all,  
Can raise him up from grave,  
Then would I wail in yearnfull sort,  
The life of him to have.  
So godly was his life on earth, 
Properties praise worthy   
Even to the latter end,  
So patiented eke in troubles still,  
And faithful to his friend.  
In court so careful for his prince,  
So clear of judgement sure,  
In all his dealings just of word,  
Of conscience very pure.  
So well reported all abroad,  
So courteous and so mild,  
Most dearly loved every where,  
Of woman man and child.  
A Gentleman in every point,  
His life declared the same,  
Who for his virtues manifold,  
Hath won immortal fame.  
W. D.    

Of the Dear intoyled in a progress.  

THe Dear pursued, himself sore turmoils,  
Over bramble and briars his bodies rebounds,  
Good luck yet may chance him, to pass through the toils,  
And free with his life to scape from the hounds.  
W. D.    

A ditty of hunting:  
to the tune of Light of love, etc.  

OF all the pleasures in country and court, 
Hunting is healthful.   
Hunting with hounds is the gallantest sport,  
Though painful it seemeth, yet health it doth bring:  
It is a pastime for a Duke or a King.   

Merrily chants the hounds in the wood,  
Most men it delights, the noise is so good.   

Hunting expelleth the wanton delight, 
Hunting tameth the flesh   
Which often enchaunteth each kind of delight,  
The pleasures of Venus with other vain sport,  
Hunting preventeth all such kind of sport.   

Merrily, etc.   

If youths would delight in hunting with hound, 
Hunting maintaineth thriftiness.   
Unthrifts so many would scarcely be found,  
House keeping would never so sudden decay:  
Nor gentle would jet it in going so gay.   

Merrily, etc.   

In hunting is harbourde most pretty conceits, 
Hunting makes men active & expert.   
As writers at large most trimly entreats:  
Manhood is proved, cunning is learned,  
Minds are revived, sleights be discerned.   

Merrily, etc.   

A King in New forest by chase the Heart, 
Danger in hunttig.   
By Fortwe was slain of a feathered dart:  
diverse beside in huntiug the Boar,  
Have ended their days being wounded full sors.   


Merrily, etc.   
Hunting resembles a battle in field. 
Hunting compared to a battle.   
And pretty conceits of war it doth yield:  
A pastime truly well worthy of fame,  
And all that loves it deserveth the same.   

Merrily, etc.   

The hounds be the battle pitched very square,  
The grehounds the wings to follow the hare, 
Proof of the premises.   
The horns blows chase and sound the retire,  
To courage the dogs where game doth appear.   

Merrily, etc.   

When game to the covert speedeth apace,  
The horsemen give charge to follow the chase, 
The proof continued.   
Their spurs imbrued, their horse they do strike,  
Which makes them rebound over hedge and dike   

Merrily, etc.   

Yet some there be certain which hunting do scorn, 
Hunting found faulty.   
Because of their hedges and spoil of their corte:  
What pleasure (say they) to hear a dog ball?  
A labour they count it, no pleasure at all.   

Merrily, etc.   

In hunting (say they) great charges arise, 
Discommodities in hunting.   
In filling their maws, to stop their outcries,  
Stenches most filthy unseemly to views,  
In keeping of dogs beside doth ensue.   

Merrily, etc.   

The drunkard detests it, and hunts for good ale,  
The lecher doth loathe it, and hunts for his tail, 
What manner of men abhor hunting.   
The gamester doth shun it, and curseth the same:  
And hunts after dice and other lewd game.   

Merrily, etc.   

But those that be honest such pastime will fly, 
Hunting highly esteemed among the honourable.   
For mischiefs full many ariseth thereby:  
But hunting with hounds doth carry such fame,  
That nobles and Gentles doth honour that game.   

Merrily chants the hounds in the wood,  
Most men it delights, the noise is so good.    
FINIS.   

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 the 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 fort 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 
Sneezing.  in coughing or 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 suchroaring, 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, not only for the 
Yawning.  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 in to 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 it 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, use not to open thy 
Blowing of the nose.  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 the 
Look in the beginning of Corbaccio.  heat wherewith Master john Boccase burned in desire and Love of his Lady unknown) tells, 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 
Dropping of the Nose.  must drink: 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 
Giovanni. Matheo. Giberti, bishop of Verona.  Verona, a bishop a wise man, a learned & of a singular good wit by nature, whose name was Giouanni Matheo Giberti: 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 that 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, passing that way, to 
Count Richard.  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, well spoken, comely, and had much frequented in his time, the Courts of great Princes: who was (perhaps) and is, called Galateo: at whose request and council, I 
Galateo.  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, if they saw these whom we 
Greedy feeding.  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 
filing the napkins.  that 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, their face and their neck (they be such greedy 
Sweeting with feeding.  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, nor 
Precepts for servants.  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, it is no 
Breithing in a man's face.  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 favour 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) be very 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 the 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 out 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, the some men use, to sing between the teeth, or play the drum with their fingers, or shuffle 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 alone 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 
Table.  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 is none other thing, then to despise and disdain another. And as I have 
Pride.  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. This gentleman was 
Vbaldino Bandinelli.  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 
A lowly mind.  sign and show of reverence, 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 
Boccaccio. Cior. 6. novel. 4. fo. 194.  to trouble his guests: 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. And if thou be angry, show it not, 
Chiding at the Table.  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 people, which will in allthings 
Fromewarde.  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 is, to win the good will 
frowardness.  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 fausies, than your own.  
Again, you must be neither clownish 
clownish and Lampishe  nor 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 
Muscing.  company, to be sad, musing, 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, to be to nice or to dainty: it 
Nycenes and Deyntines.  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. And first in the matter itself that is in 
Talk and Communication.  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, must a man speak any thing against God or 
Holy things must not be jested at. Ciccro. Mala & impia est Consuetudo, contra deos disputandi: sive serio fit, siue dissimulate.  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, to talk of things out of time, not fitting the place 
Talk out of time.  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 then 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, for his 
Boce. Gior. 4. fol 183. In the beginning.  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 from point to point, using such wonder and admiration withal, 
Dreams.  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 a gentleman of Rome did see, a man not unlearned and 
M. Flaminio Tomarozzo.  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 victual 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, falshion 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. For there 
Lies.  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 
Men have a pleasure to lie otherwhile.  or blown a little wind. 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, a man may tell a losing: I mean 
Lefinges and Countresectinges.  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, or gloriously rehearse to much of his deeds & valiant Acts, or what 
Glorious boasting and braggeing.  his Ancestors have done, nor upon every occasion, fall in reherfall 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: but rather 
Exalting and embasing.  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, in that he refused 
Bocc. Novel. 5 Gior. 6. fo. 291  to be called Master: being not only a master but without doubt a singular and cunning master in his art in those daiez. But be it blame, or praise 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 that 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 judge meant of the world, of good understanding and wisdom. What a fetchig about is this, ere they come to the 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 doig, 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, is apparently due 
abject Mind.  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 back, 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, which we name, as you hear, by a strange term, as 
Ceremonies.  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 they 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 agaist 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, were wont to 
Titles by Privilege.  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, it is not lawful 
Custom must not be altered  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, that Ceremonies 
The end why ceremonies be used. Ceremonies for profit.  are used, either for a Profit, or for a Vanity, or for a Duty. 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 
Dutiful ceremonies.  be done of Duty, 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: to every one, that is not a man of very base calling, and in such kind of speech 
You.  we yield such a one, no manner of courtesy of our own. But if we say: Thou: to such a one, than we disgrace him and offer 
Thou.  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 oftwaine. 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, wonteth to receive, salute, & name in our own country, all sorts and kinds 
Bocc Novel. 6 Gior. 5. fo. 259  of people, and in all our familiar communication with men, let us use the same. And notwithstanding 
Peter the King of Arragon.  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: Signori, Io vi bascio la mano. Or: Io son vostro seruidore: Or else: vostro schiavo in catena: 
I kiss your hand: I am your servant: your stave in chain.  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 likewise (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 
Vanity and plied. Respect of country.  Vainess 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. 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 feign 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 
Time, age, condition & calling must be respected.  the time, to the age, and the condition of him, 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, and very 
In what case Ceremonies be cumberlome.  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 tune 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 that 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, and courteous. But he that doth her in to much, and is over lavish, 
Vanity.  shallbe blamed as vain and light: and perhaps worse thought of too: counted a busy body, a fidging fellow, and in wise 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 that 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: being banished 
Oedipus.  and driven out of his country (upon what occasion I know not) he fled to King Theseus at Athens, the better to save himself and his life, from his enemies, that 
Theseus.  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 superstitions 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 bear 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 out 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, the 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, that so quarrel at every 
quarreling. Wrangling. Ouerthwaring.  word, question, and wrangle, that they show they have little skill in other men's natures: 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, rancour 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 trifling 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: Master Vniciguerra: 
Conqueror. Ouerthwaiter. Know all. The subtle Doctor.  Or, Sir Contraponi: Or, Sir Tuttessalle: And sometime: ill Dottor suttile.  
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 fine 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 do 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 apacities, 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 offereth 
He that counseleth hath ever a good conceit of himself.  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, that take upon them to reprove and correct 
Reproving and correcting of fault.  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 bered 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 
Scorns and Scoffs.  or scoff at any man, what so ever he 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 open 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, is properly to take a contentation and pleasure to 
The Nature of a scorn or a scoff.  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, at 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 
Boec, Novel. 5. Gior. 6. fo. 297.  bear the name of an honest gentleman.  
And such as use to jest at a man, be very like unto these: I mean them that have a good sport to mock and beguile men, 
Morkes.  not in spite or scorn, but on a merriment alone. And you shall understand, There is 
Difference between a scorn and a mock  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, per chance, 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, so short & so testy, that you must, in no wise, be merry, nor use 
Bocc. Novel. 8 Gior. 9 fo. 430  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 
Not jesting in matters of weight or of shame.  in matters of weite, and much less in matters of shame. For, men will ween that we have a good sport (as the common saying is) to brag and boast in our evil: as it is 
Bocc. Novel. 7 Gior. 6. fo. 294.  said, the Lady Philippe of Prato, took a singular pleasure and contentation in the pleasant & pretty answer she made, to excuse her 
Lupo is the proper name of a man aswell as a wolf.  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: let that wise counsel that Lauretta gave for that point, suffice to teach 
Bocc Novel. 3 Gior. 6. fo. 288 jests and Taunts.  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, that happed to the knight of the lady Horetta. And if you 
Bocc. Novel. 2. Gior. 6. fo. 287.  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, otherwise than a man would lightly 
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.  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: and such were almost, all the pleasant purposes and jests of Dioneo. 
Bocc. Novel. 10. Gior. 5. fo. 281.   
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. It is an art for a juggler & jester to use: it doth not become a gentleman 
Bocc. Novel. 10. Gior. 5. fo. 281. It is the beginning of a song.  to do so. 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 time & 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 that 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, a man would ween the ass would play his part: or the sun hody body & louberly lout would frisk and dance in his doublet. There is another pleasant kind of commumration: 
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 & liveas 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: That thing, and other thing: This man, what do you call him: That matter, help me 
Bocc. Novel. 2. Gior. 6. fo. 287.  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 Giansigliazzi, 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 pointis: 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, might be Lady Covetousness her 
Bocc. Novel 6 Gior. 1. fo. 41.  self: 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, that 
Words would be plain.  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: then L'Epa. And where your country speech will bear it, you shall rather 
The, Belly. The liver. The paunch. The Belly. The Body.  say: La Pancia, then L'Ventre: Or, il Corpo. For, by these means you shallbe understood, 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 find 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 over worn apparel, left of and cast a side. As, Spaldo, and Epa, and Vopo, 
Old words out of use,  and Sezzaio, & Primaio. And moreover, the words you shall use, must have no double 
Gergo is a very doubtful manner of speech, as it were in Riddles: and very ambiguous.  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:  

Io vidi un che da set passatoi  
Furio da un canto all' altro trapassato.   
Again, our words would be, (as near 
Apt words and proper.  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. And Dant did better express the matter, when he said. 
Dant. 23. Infer.  
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: by cause 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 tteatise 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 unpleasant 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, it becometh every honest 
Words that have no honest meaning in them.  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: as Rinculare: which, notwithstanding, is 
Rinculare, is to draw back ward, arselonge.  daily used of all men. But if a man or woman should speak after this sort, & at that very warning do it in fight 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 sigge  
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, thou 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, take good heed they do eschew, not only things unclean 
Potta di me  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 are of Dant. 
She blue large blasts of wind 
Dant. 17. Infer.   
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 the 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. but also of that which is base and 
Base words and Vile.  vile, and especially where a man talketh & discourseth of great and high matters. And for this Cause, perchance, worthily some blame our Beattice, 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 aworthy 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, say that Saint Dominicke was Il Drudo della Theologia. 
Drudo, signifieth a lascivious lover.  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 that like considerations & cares, & some more: that 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, to use such gentle and courteous speech to men, and so sweet, that it 
Gentle words in Communication.  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 fuinishe 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. For in so doing, your talk shallbe well delivered and not borne before 
Parto & non Isconcratura.  the time. I trust, strangers will easily bear with this word: if at lest they vouchsafe to read these trifles of mine. And if 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 Arrigo: 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. And, when you laugh and sport in any 
Voice and Tongue.  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 the 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.  
Four words would be disposed, even as the common use of speech doth require 
Manner of Speech.  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 that 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 sorr 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 certaie grace & sweetness: not as a Schoolmaster the 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 
Talkative Fellows.  hold their tongue. 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 mansooner 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 Lye. 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 draw latch: 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 releéfe. 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 procure 
Silence  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 
Maestro Chiarissimo.  I take it) 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. Meaning 
Regolo.  to show, that according to that, all the Images and pictures, that from thenceforth any workman should make, should be squared & lined forth: as that 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, framig 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: peradventure 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. For albeit, the power of Nature be great. yet is she many times Mastered and 
Nature must be mastered by Reason.  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 
Reason doth change old Customs & helpeth Nature.  old customs, and to help & hold up Nature, when she doth at any time decay 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 & covet 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 according 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 itself is sweet and savoury: seems bitter in taste unto us, though it have no ill taste in deed. And therefore as nice & deity 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 hoary 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 I 
Custom & Reason, two bridles of Nature.  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 train: 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, a man that had a singular good gift & grace 
Piodato.  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, what manner of thing it is: 
Beauty.  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 contrariwise, measured herself, by Many. As 
Deformity.  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 face 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 fsat 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 the lineaments of many fair 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 thik, 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, as I have told you before: 
appareling according to the Time.  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 care, he do them with a good grace. And a good grace is nothing else, but such a manner of light (as I may 
A Grace, what it is.  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 
Count Richard.  fashions was, that 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 eaeasily 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, and have their face, 
Beards and Heads curled with bodkins.  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.  
How must smell, neither of sweet nor of sour: for a gentleman would not savour 
Sweet smeles  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 
Apparel according to the fashion & calling.  to the fashion of the time, 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. And withal, it be such, as the country doth use, 
Apparel according to the Country  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 
Running and going in the street and other such gestures.  in the street, 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 & fling 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 thik 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 bit, 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 therefore 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 
Gestures and Fashions, at the Table.  or scratch himself, when he sitteth at the table. And a man should at such time have a very great care that he spit not at all. But 
spitting.  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. We must also beware 
Greedy Eating.  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 so loud. Likewise, you must not rub your teeth with 
Scouring of the teeth  your napkin, & much less with your fingers. For these be tricks for a sloven. Neither 
Washing the mouth.  must you openly rinse your mouth with the wine, and then spit it fourth. Neither is it gentleman like, to carry a stick in your 
Carrying a Stick, in the Mouth.  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, about your 
To wear a Toothepicke about your Neck.  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, to lean over the table, or to fill your mouth so full of 
Cheering at the table.  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 the 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, I do not like it, that a man shall 
Carueing.  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 poits 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, to drink all out every man: which is 
Drinking & Carousing.  a fashion as little in use amongst us, as the term itself is barbarous & strange: I mean, lck 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 thank, confess your weakness, that you are not able to bear it: or else, to do him a pleasure, you may for courtesy taste it: and then set down the cup to them that will, and 
Drinking, much used in Graecia: and by Socrates.  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, by name, for that he sat out one 
Socrates.  whole night long, drinking a vie with another good man, Aristophanes: and yet the next 
Aristophanes.  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 inalepert 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, in the presence of any assembly. For it is a slovenly 
A recapitulation of sundry precepts. Vneasing.  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. Again, 
Washing of hands and combing of heads.  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, that have a pride or a use to draw their mouths a little awry, 
Gestures of the face and Countenance and other parts.  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 herself, the Goddess, (as I have heard 
Pallas.  sonewise 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 cornet 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 
Mopping or mowing.  in a token of wonder, and other while, of contempt and disdain: counterfeiteth an ill-favoured grace. And Counterfeit things, differ not much from truths.  
A man must leave those foolish manner of laughings, groase and uncomely. And 
Unseemly laughings.  let men laugh upon occasion, and not upon custom. But a man must beware he do not laugh at his own gests, and his doings. For that makes men ween he 
Laughing at ●●s own Jests.  would feign praise himself. It is for other 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, it is a needful observation to bethink yourself, how you do move 
movings and gestures of the body.  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 that worthy man was wont to say: that 
Pindarus.  Whatsoever it were that had a good & savoury taste: was seasoned by the hands of the Graces. Now, what shall I speak of them the come forth of their studies with their pen in their care: 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.