Galateo espagnol, or, The Spanish gallant instructing thee in that which thou must doe, and take heed of in thyusuall cariage, to be well esteemed, and loved of the people. Written in Spanish by Lucas Gracian de Antisco servant to his Majesty. And done into English by W.S. of the Inner Temple Esquire. Full of variety, and delight, and very necessary to be perused, not only of the generous youth of this kingdom, but also of all such as are exercised in their gentile education.

CHAPTER. 13. Of Novellaes and Tales. (Book 13)

BEsides the things we have sayd, a Gentleman will be sure to tell a Tale, or story, that shall bee such, that it shall not have in it, un∣civill words, or obscene passages, or so beastly, that they make them loath them that heare it, but such passages must bee related by circumlocutions, and by civill, and honest wayes of ex∣pression: not speaking them in plaine termes, especially if Women bee in the company, for then wee should bee more reserved, and the plot in such Tale, must bee layd so neately, and artificially, that the Auditors, may bee fed with pleasure of it, untill

that the Auditors doe at length re∣maine fully satisfyed, and out of doubt, with the close and conclusion of the story. And Tales and stories should bee such, that besides the en∣tertaynement, and pleasure of them, there may bee also drawn from them, good examples, and moralls, as the ancient makers of Fables were wont to doe, who spake very artificially, (as we may reade in their workes) And in imitation of them, hee that tells a story, a fable, or such like discourse, ought to provide, that hee doe not often repeate the same words, except necessity force him to it, (which is that which is called rambling.) And so, that hee doe not confound his au∣ditors, or perplex their memories, hee must labour to take away all ob∣scurity, especially of many names. So that if in the story, there bee no more, then one Prince, or one King, who is named in the beginning; it is then enough (afterwards) to say (onely) the King, the Captaine, the Doctor, &c. And because in all parts of this treatise, wee labour to urge comparisons, and examples to the purpose, in this part which wee

are now upon, we will relate a story of which (it being very pleasing to some comicall persons of good judgement) there was made a famous Tragecomedy. And because in this booke, we would feede most palates with delight, he that shall not take pleasure in it, may skip over the story, (if it seeme redious,) and may proceede, in the other matters of this Treatise.

The tale of the great Soldan, and of the loves of the beautifull Axa and the Prince of Naples.

In the Vast Country of Tersia, was a Soldan, that by his prowesse, and valour, had conquered many Lands, who loosing his sight by a mischance that befell him, was more sensible of the great losse thereof, in regard that hee was thereby disabled to pro∣secute the designes hee had begun, then for any other trouble it put him unto. Hee then calling together all the Physitians of his Kingdome, that they might apply medicines, to cure his infirmitie: his vassalls, (being desirous of the recovery of his sight)

brought unto him, a famous Christi∣an Phisitian, whom by misfortune, a Basha had taken prisoner: in this man the Soldan had great confidence, to receave help, (he having already cu∣red many of his vassalls, of many dan∣gerous infirmities) and so with large promises of wealth and freedome he put himselfe into his hands. The Physitian, used the best practise hee could, to recover his sight; but all humane meanes hee could use, not sufficing, hee excused himselfe to his Lord, beseeching him, that he would accept of his good will, and inten∣tion: but it was not accepted with the like minde. But the Soldan was jealous, that because he was a Christi∣an, therefore he was regardlesse of his recovery: And commanded that they should put him into a Dungeon, and ordeyned, that if within eight dayes following, he prescribed not a sufficient medicine, to recover his sight, that hee should be devoured of his Lyons. The Physitian, when he had bin seven dayes in the Dungeon, and considering, how neere death a∣proched to him, determined to finde out a way, how to prolong his life,

by entertayning the Soldan with faig∣ned hopes, and so desired, he might be (againe) brought before him, that he might try another medicine upon him (When hee came into his pre∣sence, after he had excused himselfe, that hee had not all this time cured him,) he spake thus unto him, That he had found out that there was one only cure for him, but that hee must have patience, for a few dayes, where∣in he must put off the cure (but it should not bee long) till hee might search out (with diligence) a yong man of a noble race, valiant, of a pure com∣plexion, faire, wise, and well esteemed of: for, with the blood, and heart of such a one, with the Powders, and Herbs, that he should adde, he would recover his sight: and that they must (also) appoint him a place, to gather certaine Herbes, for this purpose. The Soldan, approving his speech, gave him liberty, to walke (freely) up and downe his Court, and pos∣sessed with this hope, hee imparted his content, to the Suleanesse his Lady, and his beautifull Daughter, Axa, a Lady most famous, for her won∣derfull fairenesse, and worth. After the

Soldan, dispatcheth some of his Basha••s, to divers Kingdomes, that they might finde out a prisoner that might be fitting, for to make the me∣dicine, to recover his sight promising great rewards, to him, that should performe this enterprise. It fell out, that as one of his Captaines, touched with one of his gallyes, at a port of the Kingdome of Naples, and had there bin informed, that certaine yong Cavalleeres, were to passe that way a hunting, they lay in ambush to take them, at which very season it fortuned, that the Prince of Naples went also that way to hunt, who in the hard pursuing of his chase, was se∣vered from his company: He was a yong man of three and twenty yeares old, and endowed with all those qualities, the Christian Physitian, had mentioned: who being assaulted by the infidells, although he defended himselfe like a valiant cavalleere, after he had slaine some of them, and hurt many more, was neverthelesse (at last) with much difficulty, taken, and put into the Gally, and carried to the great Soldan, and although they knew him not for a Prince, yet they guessed

by him that he must be a Cavalleere of great quality; you may easily cōceive, what sadnesse did possesse the King, & Queene, of this Kingdom, this Princes father, & all the subjects, for the losse of the Prince, and so leaving that, to its proper time, and place, we will now speake of his voyage, w^ch was so pro∣sperous, that in short time, they arrived in Persia, where he was presēted to the Soldan, who much pleased therewith called for the Christian Doctor, to the end that, (this Cavalleere being such a man, as hee had required to recover him withall) he might put his medicine in practise. The Physi∣tian, seeing himselfe thus cut off of his excuseand confounded in his plot, spoke to the Soldan in part after this manner. Great Sir, I cannot deny, but this yong man, is a man fitting for the purpose to recover your sight: but he is now troubled, and his Spirits unquiet, and it his humours bee not setled and his complexion reduced, to its due temper, his hart will not be usefull, for our purpose, hee must therefore repose himselfe, a few dayes, and a way be devised, how this captive may receave content, as by some

vaine hope of freedome, or such like meanes; The Soldan thought well of this, and tould it his Wife, and his faire Daughter Axa, who offered him, (if he would employ them in this service,) to make him such offers, and promises of liberty, that he should presently be pleased, and contented. Which offer the Soldan accepted of them. Wherefore, afterwards, the Prince was brought to the lodging, of the Soldana (which was curiously seated, and had a passage from it, to the banke of a great River, which not farre thence, disburthened it selfe, into the Ocean,) now he was em∣ployed for his greater grace, in serving the faire Axa, who of purpose, and by the command of her parents, made very much of him, and shewed him, extra ordinary favour. In like manner the Doctor, had order, to enter (when he pleased) into the Chamber of the Empresse, and the Princesse, to ob∣serve, when the Christian should bee at the height of his content: that he might give the Soldan notice, when it was a fit time to sacrifice him. The Prince seeing the good entertaine∣ment they gave him, could not

imagine, why (on the suddaine,) he should bee thus cockered, but sus∣pected, that they had discovered what hee was. And hee being indeed very pleasing, and a perfect Courtier, knew (so well) to give content, and to performe his service so readily, to his new Lady, the beautifull Axa, that the faigned, and purposely coun∣terfaited observance, shee made shew of, was turned into a true and sincere love, and the Prince was the meane while no lesse taken with her beauty. Yet so warily, and secretly they both carried their loves, that when any beheld them, it seemed to be all in jest. The Doctor whose thoughts were not all this while idle, seeing what hast was made, devised a way, how he might escape from them. For it was resolved that the fift day fol∣lowing, the Christian should be sa∣crificed, and so, he failing in his cure, should bee devoured of the Lyons. About the same time he went out one evening, into the Orchard, where the Soldana, and her Daughter, with the Christian, were also walking to∣gether, And as they walked, the Prince, and Princesse went aside, and shee

laying her hand upon his shoulder, and looking wishly upon him, con∣jured him by the great love she bare him, to tell her, who hee was, pro∣mising to keepe it secret; who moved with much confidence of her love, and faith of her promise, and with the sweet words, this Lady gave him, tould her the truth, that he was the Prince and onely heyre of Naples, beseech∣ing her, by all meanes, not to dis∣cover him, for the great difficulty, he should thereby finde, for his ransome. But as soone as shee understood, what hee was, and the danger hee was in, shee began to weepe bitterly, yet for feare of her mother shee dissembled it, as much as shee was able: at this in∣stant, the Soldana winked upon the Doctor, that he should come, and see if the Christian were in a good tem∣per, shewing him the great cunning her Daughter had used, to deceive him, and to bring him into good temper, and to make him to be well sa∣tisfyed: and she in the while stood to behold, at some distance off, in the Orchard; But when the Doctor came to the place where the two Lovers were, the faire Axa begun secretly

to curse him, and bad him, that hee should take some course, that hee did not performe, what hee had agreed upon, but that hee should cure her father another way: if not, that hee was to know, that if he did, as he had proposed, though hee should cure him, yet shee would kill him, (but especially because shee well perceived, that all was but subtilty, to prolong his life,) And turning to the Prince, shee sayd, Ah Sir, it is now no time to conceale from you, what is de∣termined concerning you, but that we presently study a remedy. And so shee tould him the sentence, that was given against him: and all the passages thereof, and in what manner his death was appointed (by the consent of this Doctor) but that hee should not be troubled at it, for shee would marke out a way, how he might free himselfe, which was, that they three, (as they were) must take their flight, in a little Barke, that was in the River, and so commend themselves to their good fortunes. And from thence, she vowed her selfe, to bee a Christian, and desired him by the saith of a Husband, that hee

would take her, to his Kingdome, and accept her for the Princesse there∣of. And shee declared unto them that by meanes of certaine charmes, that shee had learnt of her Mother, shee would (next day) take order, to cast her Mother, and her women, into a sleepe: that in the meane time, they three, might escape, with all her Fathers treasure, of which shee kept the Keyes. The Prince, remayned astonished, when hee understood, what had passed, but much more, at the ready ability, of his Lady, and of the great love shee had shewen him. The plot pleased them exceeding well, but it not then being the time, to put this businesse, in execution, they agreed to doe it, the next day, as soon as the Soldan had supped, and so they made the appointment, as the faire Axa had chalked it out. The next day, shee conveyed her selfe in∣to the Chamber, where her Fathers tresour was, and there shee tooke out of certaine Chests, the best Jewells, and pretious Stones he had, and tooke also much Gold thence to an incre∣dible value, being indeed the greatest part of that the Soldan and his pre∣decessors,

had bin gathering toge∣ther for many yeares past, when this was done, shee tooke order how to intercept a barke, one of the best on the River, by an excuse that shee made, that her selfe, and her Mother, and some other Ladies, were to take their pleasure in it as at other times, they were wont to doe. When night came, and supper was ended, the faire Axa, by meanes of the inchantments, and magick, shee had knowledge in, put one in practise, which was to pitch a scedule of partchment written with Dragons blood, and to stick it to the gowne of the Soldana, which was no sooner done but she fell into adeepe sleepe, and so dead it was, that shee awaked not, till late the next day. Then shee commanded all the Women to retire, and hid the Prince and Doctor, in the same Chamber, where the tresour was, and when shee knew that they were all at rest, and that the Soldana could not be awaked, shee went cheerefully to her Husband, and at last all three, helping one another, they put all this wealth, in Chestes, and by little and little, put them into the Barke, and a∣mongst

other things, of great esteeme; they had taken a sword, which (be∣sides the richnesse of the stones, it was set withall) it was of such power, that wheresoever it cut, it dissolved all charmes and inchantments. And in like manner shee tooke a Ring of me∣mory all of one Diamond, as well the hoope, as the stone, made in two partes, which being joyned toge∣ther, had a vertue in it, that hee that had it, could remember what ever he had done, or had happened unto him, unto that present time. With this treasure, and rich apparell, that Axa had put up, they went all three abroad the Bark, who ayded with sailes and oars, they were favoured so much, that being now on the maine Ocean, in a happy time, they doubled the Cape of Naples, which Kingdome they discovered one morning at break of day. The joy of all three was great, but especially of the beautifull Princesse, who with amorous dis∣course did solemnize her great con∣tent, in behoulding Christendome, and for enjoyng the company of her be∣loved Prince. At this very instant, Axa behold a farr off a Barke appeare,

that made towards them, with all speede, and being much troubled, shee turned to the Prince, saying, alas my Lord, the Barke we have dis∣covered, is the Soldanas Barke, my Mother, who with her magick, and enchantments, is able to destroy us without resistance. The Prince did comfort her, making it a sport that one Woman should bee able to con∣quer him, but the greatest comfort that shee found, was the remem∣brance of the Soldans sword, that the Prince wore, and so (although with great feare, and many teares,) shee was perswaded, that there was no other remedy but that they must cut something, which belonged to the Bark, and not suffer themselves, to be grapled with, that they might not bee overthrowne; In the Interim the Soldana came up to them, with great bravery, reviling them, and calling the Prince ruffian, and the Princes whore, and threatning them, that now they should never escape her hands: the Prince advised her not to come neere him, except shee desired her owne destruction: but the not re∣garding his counsell, came to board

him, and fastening her grapling hands upon part of the Princes Barke, to leape into it. The Prince (that was very vigilant) cut them off with as much of the Barke, as they had laid hould upon: and so (by force) se∣vered her, from them. The Soldana, when shee saw that by the vertue of the sword, hee had defended him∣selfe from her, being able to doe no more, spake in a rage to her daughter, in this manner: well Traytresse, though you have such confidence in your ruf∣fian, I will bring it so to passe, that the first Woman, that hee shall em∣brace, hee shall forget thee: and so shee returned as fierce as a Lyonesse, with the losse of her fingers. They seeing themselves freed of this danger, and neere the Kingdome of Naples, got into the heaven with great con∣tent: where the Prince, dissembling himselfe very much, because hee de∣sired not then to be knowne, made the Captaine of the Castle there, (being a man of his old acquaintance) to be called unto him. To whom onely, (in private) he discovered himselfe. The Captaine being amazed at this sight, was falling downe upon his

Knees, to kisse his hands, and feete, but the Prince winked upon him, and commanded him to conceale him: and that hee should entertaine him, but as an ordinary Cavalleere, be∣cause he did not as yet desire, to make himselfe knowne, and so causing the Barke to bee unladen of his Coffers, they went to refresh themselves at his House; where he imparted his great joy onely to his Wife, and his two Daughters. And you may well gesse what joy this was, when as for the losse of this their Prince, all the coun∣try (after a most sad manner) mour∣ned in blacke sack-cloath. But being come thither, the first thing Axa did, was to bee Christend, by the hand of a Bishop, to whom they were faine to discover themselves, for this purpose. And at the same time the Prince was also married to the faire Axa. And so the next day, The Prince commending the care of her, to the Captaine, and his Wife, and Daughters, he and the Doctor de∣parted in strangers habites, to pre∣sent himselfe to his Father, that him∣selfe might bee the first, that might 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the reward, for this newes:

promising his new married Lady to come back againe to her thither, and to receive her into the Country with great solemnity. Shee suspecting the successe, bestowed on him, and put upon his finger halfe the Diamond Ring of memory before mentioned, and kept the other halfe by her selfe. In this manner, they went to the Court, where his parents, the King and Queene were, and entred into the Palace. Then the teares trickled from this good Princes eyes, as well for joy hee received to see his parents, as for the griefe, that his absence had caused so great sorrow throughout the Kingdome, And after telling the waiters, that hee had a businesse of importance, to impart unto the King, he was admitted into the pre∣sence: and there being full of con∣tent, after he had passed a thousand jests, and passages of mirth, with the Cavalleeres, hee discovered himselfe unto them: that they might (by de∣grees,) make his Father understand of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 comming▪ least excesse of joy by the suddaine knowledge of his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 cause some danger∣ous 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in him. All this 〈◊〉〈◊〉

well caryed, & so at length the Father, & Sonne received one the other, with many teares, and embraces. And as the Prince was relating to the King, all the discourse of his captivity, and how by meanes of the faire Axa, hee was delivered, in comes his Mother, trembling, and much altered, with her suddaine joy, and imbraced him, shedding many teares, untill the King interrupted her and sayd to the Queene; as you love my life be stille. That my Sonne may proceede, in the most exquisite story, (of his travells) that ever was heard: and so hee re∣quested him to proceed, and to de∣clare, where hee had left the faire Axa hee spake of. The Prince wholy forgetfull what he had sayd, as if he were astonished, at some new accident, made answer, that he knew not Axa, nor whether there were such a one, or no, nor did he ever see any such per∣son. And the more the King wonde∣red at it, the more the Prince denyed it: so that the Queene 〈…〉〈…〉 King, and encreated him to leave this discourse, and 〈…〉〈…〉 to him of 〈…〉〈…〉 nothing then but to 〈…〉〈…〉

they all possessed. And so was the newes divulged, and great expressions of joy were made through the whole Kingdome; And because the King had (formerly) bin upon treaty of a marriage for the Prince with the Queene of Cicily, (which by reason of his being lost, was hitherto stayd) hee now againe sent his Embassadors to her, with the consent, and liking of his Sonne, the Prince, who with∣out thinking of his Lady Axa, ap∣proved well of it. But when the Doctor saw this, and that the Prince did not onely forbeare to proceede, with his great entertaynement for his Lady Axa: but did not so much as thinke of her: being much grieved, he returned, to the place, where she remay¦ned, but he found that she was not much altered by this accidēt, but shew∣ing a good semblance, to the Captaine, commanded him, and the Doctor to goe to the Court, and to provide her the best lodging, which was to be had, without the Pallace, giving them much Gold, and Silver, out of her treasure, and licence to spend a great part of it, in furnishing of the sayd lodging: shee also sent a mes∣senger

to the King, to let him un∣derstand, that a Princesse of a strange Country, was comming to his Court, about an important businesse, and that his Majesty should take order, for her entertaynement, according as was suiting to her quality, and e∣state. The King, wondering from whom so great a Lady, could come, commanded shee should bee receaved, by the Cavalleeres of his Court: re∣quiring her to discover whom shee was, that he might not fall short, in giving her the honour due unto her; The faire Axa answered, that his Majesty should know from her owne mouth, who she was; so the Captaine, having provided a stately House, a∣dorned with curious furniture, and well furnished with servants, and of∣ficers, fitting for the House of a Queene, the King tooke order to re∣ceave the faire Axa, with great prepa∣ration, curiously trimming the streets through which shee was to passe, and providing the best inventions, playes and dauncing that could be thought on to entertaine her withall. In this manner shee made her entry, being habited in as rich a fashion, as ever

Queene or Princesse was beheld at∣tired with, And being indeede (for beauty) the paragon of the World, so shee seemed to all that beheld her, to be more then a humane Creature. The King and the Queene, stood privately and by themselves, where they might behold her, as shee pas∣sed from her House to the Court, and so did the Prince, who as shee pas∣sed by him, vailed his Beaver, and shee returned her complementall re∣spect to him, looking wishly and af∣fectionately upon him, as one that had not yet forgot him. Who al∣though that shoe appeared to him, to be the most curious Creature, that e∣ver hee beheld, yet did he not at all re∣member her, but he tooke notice how passionately shee had eyed him, by which, and by her wonderfull beau∣ty, he became a fresh enamored. And thus the faire Axa, with much asto∣nishment to all the Court, made her entry, distributing many rich gifts, and presents, unto the Courtiers. The next morning, the King sent to visit her, by his Lord high Steward, who (though hee were a brave Courtyer,) when hee entred to de∣liver

the complement, his speech was taken from him, with behoulding her wonderfull beauty, nor could he call to minde what hee was to say. Axa entreated him to sit downe, and gave him much respect, with which hee was the more astonished, not know∣ing, how to dispatch his errand, nor how to depart thence: the Princesse, (feigning that shee de red much his company, and that his good inten∣tions did well satisfy her) gave way he might sup with her. And by this favour, shee encreased his blindnesse so much, that hee desired, that shee would suffer him, to lye there that night, though it were but upon a bench, because hee could not finde the way thence. To whom the beau∣tifull Axa answered, that he should not only lye there, as he desired, but that he should lye in her own Cham∣ber. The high Steward, much plea∣sed with this, accepted of it, and when bed-time was come, hee asked for a Combe and a Brush to combe himselfe withall saying to the Prin∣cesse, that hee alwayes used to doe thus, and that it was the custome of the Country so to doe: then the Prin∣cesse

presented him a Combe with her own hand, and he begun to combe himselfe therewith, while shee sat confidently by him, for hee did no∣thing but call her, to sit by him, and sayd the good of the high Steward, might excuse her, so he stood (thus) combing himselfe, so long, that hee much galled his head, for hee conti∣nued so doing till morning without ceasing. At what time, the Prince came thither, and saw this, and tooke out of his hands the Combe and Brush, sending him away like a block-head, telling him, he had neede to combe himselfe, because she would not doe it for him. In this manner the poore Steward, much ashamed, went to the King, with his armes very weary, and the skin galled off his head, with the much combing it, complayning, what wrong the strange Princesse had done him, for which hee was well laughed at by the King Queene, and Prince, who did no∣thing, but jeere him for it; but much more the Queenes Lord Chamberlaine telling him, that because hee was thus finely combed; they durst not keepe him company. Wherefore the

Queene commanded, that he should bee employed on the same businesse, that shee might see, what successe he would have. He was very well con∣tented with it, but there happened a like misfortune to him, that did to the former, but by another way. For when he had dyned and supped, and troden the same steps, that the other had done, the Princesse of∣fering him a Combe, and a Brush, he excused himselfe (thinking thereby, he had overcome all) answering that hee had no neede of combing, but he had a very great longing, to put out the Candle, that was there burning, and so he went to blow it out, and still as he put it out, it was lighted againe, and hee still renewed his blowing of it, and thus he continued all night, who still when the Princesse called him, answered, I will come Madam, when I have put out the Candle, which shall never get the victory of mee. At which the Prin∣cesse, and many of her Ladies, that were there, with her, made much mirth: And thus exercised, he pas∣sed the whole night, and in the mor∣ning shee sent him away, much

ashamed. Hee returned to the King, and the Queene, who desired to bee satisfyed, why he stayd so long▪ the Lord steward that was so combed, was so much pleased, to see him so much troubled, that his owne vexation was thereby much lessened: and the ra∣ther for that his head did now begin to be better, and (The King, Queene and the Prince, standing in doubt, from whence so faire, and wise a Woman, should come) there came a message, from her, requesting the King, to give her audience, in the businesse she came for, which was gran∣ted her, & he forth with commanded shee should come thither, and when she ascended the Pallace, the Queene, and her Ladies were ready to receive her; and so shee entred most glorious∣ly, and richly, desiring to kisse the Kings hands, which might not bee granted, before hee knew what shee was, and what shee desired. Shee pro∣strated her selfe before him, and tooke them by force, saying, that present∣ly they should see, whether they might give her them, with a good will; and with that, shee required Justice of the King, to cause halfe a

Ring of memory, that the Prince had robbed her of to bee restored un∣to her, which Ring she sayd, the Prince did then weare upon his fin∣ger. The Prince much blushing sayd, that it was true, that hee had such a Ring; but that he did not remember that hee tooke it from her: then the Princesse pulled off that which shee had upon her owne finger, and put∣ting it upon the Princes finger, and joyning, and fitting it, into the o∣ther, the Prince came to himselfe, as if he had awaked from a dream; and his eyes being opened, and seeing his Lady Axa, before him, first falling downe upon his knees, before her, he (presently) went and tooke her in his armes, and sayd unto her; O my Lady, and true Spouse, and my greatest blisse: and then he proceeded, to tell the King, and Queene, his parents, his story: and how much he was engaged, to this faire Princesse, who with joy embraced, and received her for their Daughter, and being in the middest of their joy, there en∣tred the Embassadors, that came from Sicily, and declared, that the Queene was already married, to ano∣ther

King her neighbour: who at the very time, they were in treaty, came with a great Navy, and carried her to his owne Country, and there married her, at which they were much pleased, seeing how happily all things fell out, and so the Prince, and the most wise, and beautifull Axa, suc∣ceeding their parents, in the King∣dome, did long reigne, with happy peace, and prosperity.

The end of the Tale, and proceeding of the Author, in his matter.

He ought also that takes upon him to tell any story or tale, (like this) although hee have many to tell, and that they heare him willingly, to give way, that every one, may tell his owne story, and not to exceede his lymits (so farre,) in this kinde, that hee should bee accompted tedious or troublesome: nor to invite men to be alwayes telling such stories, for the principall use of them, is but to fill up idle time.

2. One must also take heede in this, as in all other manner of discourses, that hee observe the propriety, and

purity of words, and not leaving the common use, and true Castilian tongue, rather striving for plainenesse, then curiosity, so that if in common discourse, we be to say the Sunne, we should not say, the light of the world, nor to say he stood in the frontispice of his House, when we should say he stood in the porch, or entry thereof. Nor when one should say, he tooke the fresh ayre of the morning, to say that hee received the Zephirus of Aurora, nor in ordinary things, to use words, which are strangers, in our language, like some, that thinke they shew great learning, in draw∣ing old words, out of use, into their discourses.

3. But what shall wee say of the coyned phrases, of some I deots, that labour to speake in metaphors, and high and excellent straynes, as they conceive.

4. A student, one Christmas com∣ming home to see his parents, and kindred, as he stood with them, by the fire, thinking to shew his lear∣ning by speaking in an extraordina∣ry manner, insteed of saying, lay this wood on the fire, sayd thus, Lady

Nurse, apply these materialls, to the consumer of all things, for you see, that the biting tooth of nature, makes me in a walking temper. His Father that was well studyed, and a good speaker, replyed to this, mee thinkes my Sonne, that the want you felt in the Castilian tongue you have as well met withall in the Latine, and that in a worse manner, for you might have expressed more in a plaine Song, then you have done, in the counter point. I say then, that our words ought to be such, as may bee significant, and plaine to bee understood, according to the custome of the place, where thou art, and not so obsolete, that they are growne rusty, (as the pro∣verb goes.) For it is better to say Tapiz, which is Tapistry or French Cloath, then Paramentos, which is an old word, that signifyes the same thing, and to say Ensenar to teach, then Averzar, being an old word, that signifyes the same thing, And Ac∣costombrado, accustomed, and not as others use to say, Estoy hecho a esto, which signifyes the same thing. I except Labourers, and Pesants, and other people of poore places, although

we make sport of their language: yet it becomes them well, and if they strive to alter their ordinary way, it shewes ill. And according to their ac∣compt, you shall finde such under∣standing men amongst them, that they may give us fifteene and a fault, as the proverbe goes, that thinke our selves wiser.

But it is not to bee doubted, but for the most part, if wee could heare the passages betwixt some of them, in their consultations, and discourses, wee would bee much taken with them.

5. A curious Courtier, walking in the habit of a labourer, passed through a Village, at the time they were in councell, and so by meanes of his habit, that hee wore, hee was per∣mitted, to behold what passed there, and at that instant, he saw one of the country fellowes, that sat there, stand up, and putting off his Cap spake thus to the Justices of the place. Noble Lords, Juan Gamorro & Pedro Gar∣cia se quieren chapar por cohadres if it please you. The most ancient of the Judges answered him thus. No engemineys tantos in lo c••hadria, que

succedera eugobello, so that we cannot determine of it.

6. In another more obscure place he sayd hee saw another Judge that being troubled spake thus, come you hither Meculas of Ana and tell mee why you weare that Dagger, Meculas de Ana answered him, I may weare it for my defence, to which the Judge in anger answered as he sat up∣on the bench, take it from him, and set him on the Pillory, and take it for Law, that I sentence him and com∣mand it. The concept of the Author is not to bee understood but in the Spanish.

7. Returning then to our purpose, I say, that our words must be plaine, and this we may doe, if we know how to use such as have their originall, and naturall signification, from the Land we are in: and they ought not to be so old, that they prove hard to be understood, and out of all use: like old Clothes, and habites, so that if when wee ought to leave them off, we shall goe abroad with them, we shall bee pointed at, and derided for so doing. And therefore, he that shall say, Membrose for Acordarse,

or ome Bueno for hombre Bueno, and sincar for que dar, and such like, shall doe very ill.

8. In like manner, our words must be as proper, as may be, to expresse that which we desire to shew by them, and lesse significant, and common to expresse other things by; As to say, hee was knowne Enlas faciones, by his fashion, is more proper then to say he was knowne En la figura o Imagen. And it is better to say, Re∣clino le Puerta, que no grito la puerta, the dore squeekes, and we may more properly say, Et tremblor de quarātana then El frio the shaking of the quar∣tan Ague, and many such like as these.

9. None can well speak to another, in the tongue which hee unto whom he speaketh understandeth not, and for this reason, those that are curious, and especially strangers doe labour to understand Latine, because it is a tongue so common in the World, and which they teach by art unto those that are to travell, into strange Coun∣tries. And in my opinion, those who have or may have meanes to learne it, ought not to neglect the

knowledge thereof, that they may enjoy the treasure, that is written in that language. And the reason that in Spaine, men doe not ordinarily discourse so well, as in other King∣domes, is, because in many places thereof, they teach many rules, and doe very little exercise to discourse, but for a mans ordinary custome, none ought to alter his mother tongue, except necessity require. And if a Spaniard be to discourse with an Ita∣lian, or one of another language, whom hee knowes doth well under∣stand the Castilian tongue, he is not bound to speake to him in any other then his owne Castilian tongue. Nei∣ther is an Italian, or stranger, that knowes that the Spaniard (with whom hee discourses) understands him, tyed to speake Castilian, or to excuse himselfe for his foolish lan∣guage: And it hath bin seene that an Italian hath spoken in Spanish, with a Spaniard, for vaine glory, and often∣tations sake, and a Spaniard to an∣swer him in Italian, and both one, and the other, to speake such broken language, that they might easily dis∣cover one another to speake ill, and

any other, that heard them, must needs laugh at them, to heare the improprieties and fooleries spoken of them.

10. There was after this manner a Spaniard that met with an Italian his friend, and each of them speaking the others language, when they had spoken much on both sides without well understanding each the other: The Spaniard spake to the Italian in this manner, Sir I am of opinion, that except we change tongues, wee can proceede no farther, therefore let me have my Castilian tongue, and doe you take your Italian.

11. To this purpose, I can tell you of a great drinker, that called a Iew newly become a Christian, drunkard, and the other called him Iew, and having accused and sued each the o∣ther, for the same, the Judge being in examination of the businesse, The drunkard sayd, Sir he confesseth hee called me Iew, and I deny not but that I did call him drunkard, let them therefore passe one for the other, and so we are even: if not, let him re∣turne me my drunkard, I will returne him his Iew, and so the Judge set

them both free, and made them friends. I say then returning to my matter, that wee must take heede of speaking in a strange language, when there is no necessity to doe it.

12. A discreete Gentleman must (in like manner) bee sure that his words bee modest, and honest and well sounding, I meane that they be well sounding or delivered in a good tone, and have a good signification, for there are some words, that sound in the meaning of them, and not in the let∣ter of thē, as when they say, she recoy∣led insteed of she fell backward, which as to the meaning of it, is better; and it may more honestly be sayd, his shee friend, then his harlot, and of a dis∣honest woman such a one is her ser∣vant, then to say, he is ruffian to such a yong Queane, and such like or worse words. And when we may expresse things of this nature by one word, it is better to doe it so then with two, as to say, much good may it doe you, and he gained, and enjoyed her. Except he chang it into mirth, which a Coun∣try fellow found, who comming for a dispensation sayd to the Justice of the Court, Sir, They have made mee

come hither to buy a dispēsa, or dispen∣sation from the Sumo Ponfize, meaning the Pope, & the notary asking him Si avi tēido accesso o copula if he had layē with her or had copulation, Hee answered I Sr. ya hemos tenido eucientios y popula, and shee is with child, that thankes be to God, they cannot accompt me pro omnipotente, meaning an impotent fellow. There befell a witty accident to a Lawyer of this Court, from a Country fellow, who being of his counsell, after hee had discoursed of his case, hee sayd unto him, master Lawyer, I desire with your worships leave, that I may give your wife two blowes on the buttockes, the Lawyer was something troubled with this, un∣till the labourer proceeded in this manner, saying, indeed I am the bol∣der to give them, because the Bacon is good, and so the mistake was, that insteed of saying Lunadas de tocino, gammons of Bacon, hee called them nalgadas, which signifyes claps on the buttocks.

13. Of all these things we ought to be admonished of, in our common discourse, and being to handle a larger subject, every one may make use of the

rules and instructions of Rethorick. But in that which we heere call good courtship, we must use modest, gentile, and sweete language, that may have no bitternesse in them, and so wee should rather say. I doe not well ex∣presse my selfe, then that you cannot understand me. We will try, if it be so as you say, then to say, you are decei∣ved, or it is not true, or you doe not know it. For it is a courtly and plea∣sing fashion, to excuse another, even in that that thou knowest he is too blame in. We ought also to make our friends errour, common to our selves, and to take part of it, upon our selves, and after to reprove him, in a seasonable time, saying, we were out of the way and we never thought to doe this, al∣though the truth be, that the forget∣fulnesse was in the other, and not, in him that took the fault upon him. And if any one promise thee any thing, & cannot accomplish it, or be forgetfull of it, it is not civill to say, you have broke your credit or promise with me, or you have not kept your word, you have not regarded mee. For such words are pricking, and sharp, and imply in them, some suspition of in∣famy,

or reproach, and those that use such language, are accompted harsh, and simple, and so men avoid them, and their friendship: like unto them that shun to entangle themselves, with briars and brambles, which two to one, (although it be for things of no weight) are occasioned to bring us to destruction. And so wee must never speake, except first, we have framed in our minds, what to speake, that thy discourse may be well delivered, and be consonant in it selfe. Nor as little oughtest thou, to seeke to bee the speaker, in assemblies, or meetings, nor as little oughtest thou when thou art amongst thy equalls, to be alwayes si∣lent: yet in these two extremes, thou canst lesse erre, in holding thy peace. As they tell of one Piobano that was in Italy, a very pleasing man, and dis∣creete, that when one gave him many injurious, and opprobrious speeches, he heard them patiently, and sayd nothing to them, and being asked why hee held his peace, and did not answer for himselfe: made answer, that whilst the other was speaking, he was considering, that he never yet re∣pented, for being silent, but for speak∣ing

he had often repented him.

14. True it is, that those that speake well, and gracefully, without wrong∣ing of others, are blamelesse. Yet for all this, it must be done so modestly, that they give way with patience for o∣thers to speake, so that they doe not speake out of their course, to the end that they may have all the talke alone. For there be some that in this error of talking too much, are so passionate, that they place all their delight, and pleasure, in them, that will give them leave to talke.

15. And if by chance there be two talkers, at one meeting, it is a wonder to finde them agree well: for each of them will strive, to be the Cock of the company, where he is. As it fell out to a Cavallero, in this Court, that was a great talker, that being to goe to Cor∣dova, the day he was to take his jour∣ney, he entertayned a lacquay, to ac∣company him, who (according to his ability) was as great a talker as his master. And so it fell out that from the time he went out of Madrid, till hee came to the place whither he was to make his first dayes journey, for foure leagues they had travelled, the master

never ceased talking, to his new ser∣vant asking him questions, and telling him stories, not giving his servant leave to speake one word. For which cause he tooke his leave of him, say∣ing, your worship hath tyred your selfe, and I give you no thankes for it: For your worship is a great talker, and I have the same passion of talking, and if I may not play my play, and take my turne, but must bee forced to goe from hence to Cordova, without speak∣ing, I should bee so full that I must burst, and therefore I would goe no further with you, for more then I have agreed with you for.

16. But except thou observe a little these instructions, I advise thee, that when thou art to speake, thou be care∣full to understand the minde, of those thou discoursest withall, and sute thy talke to the applause of those that heare thee.

17. Be not so confident, to stand, listning, I say hugging and applauding thy selfe, making faces, and mouthes, and antique gestures, alwayes reaching out thy armes, and hands, as if thou wert to act some body. For there are some that all they fancy in their

braines, they fashion it out with their hands, playing it upon all their fingers.

18. The voyce must not be hoarse, nor shrill, nor must we be very loud, when we have cause to laugh, or for any other accident, like some, that skreeke like cartes, that want greasing, nor can any speake whilst he makes such a noise. Nor to be so heedlesse of our memories as to begin to speake a word, and then to stand stuttering a good while, ere we can utter it. And hee that is hoarse or hath an ill utter∣ance, should not desire to speake much, but let him correct the fault of his tongue, with silence and attention to others, who may also with care, and study, hide his naturall imperfection. As little pleasing is it, to lift up ones, voyce, as one that calles out for help, nor to speake so softly, that he cannot be heard, and except they heare thee at first, thou must the second time raise thy voyce, and not to be always wedded to one tone. Yet must thou as little speake too shrill, because they did not before heare thee when thou spakest so softly. Thy words must then be well marshalled, according to the use, and custome, and not wound,

and wreathen, here and there, nor in∣tricate, (as some in gallantry use to doe) as to say my light is dislighted, by your light, which are expressions only fitting for Poets. Except when with consent of all, and for mirth sake, they are discoursing of poetry, and making verses. Then if thou shalt see that those of thine owne profession, and age, doe entertaine, & busy them∣selves in this, thou oughtest not to bee out of order, or strange: but to say something thou knowest, as it comes to thy turne, and if thou have no fa∣culty in poetry, let it be very little that thou speakest retiring in time like a good sencer. Wherfore to conclude, such exercise is not ordinarily to bee used, as we shall hereafter declare.