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BEcause we have hitherto treated, of the knowledge how to speake well, and to jest, and of the readi∣nesse which is required therein, and also of those, who without ability of
wit, doe adventure to discourse, and entertaine company, more to content themselves, then their auditors. I will now treate of boldnesse that some use, in the subject of poetry.
1. For the which I will first give you for a rule, what warinesse a curi∣ous gentleman, is to observe in using of this subject: for his breeding, and gentilenes, binde him not to have skill in it, neither let him spend his time in it, if his naturall inclination doe not helpe him much in it. For though there be many rules to be knowne, the principall to be learnt is, for every one to know his owne naturall incli∣nation, and ability to it, for poetry to make it pleasing, must be very good. For if in any thing, there be no meane, it is in this. True it is, that few make verses, that are not very confident, and that thinke they are the best, that e∣ver were made, and as the palate, and opinion of the people, is divers, so they may (always) finde some, that will applaud and hearken unto them, and peradventure some that will pre∣ferre them before very good poets, for the novelty, and difference there is betweene them, and those that have
gone before them. As in like man∣ner, there are some, that are so wedded to antiquity, that no moderne piece of poetry, doth please them, though it be more quick, and elegant, then those old poems, they have in memo∣ry, which were made in their yonger times. For there are some that but one paire of shooes can fit (as they say) so that that which they heare first, doth so cloy their pallate, that they have no roome left, for any thing that may follow, although it bee better. Onely they inferre, that the goodnesse of common poetry, is all one, as well of that which was written heretofore, as of that which is now in use. But be∣cause my intent is not here to make a book of the art of poetry, I refer my self to many ancient, and moderne things, that have bin exceeding well written of it, and I will only say, that a curious gentleman, must know his proportion in it, and if he have a vaine in it, ha∣ving seene, and read much, let him not governe himselfe, by his own phansy, but by theyrs that endevour to un∣derstand him. And in things that are grave and very serious, except he find them ready, and easy, let him not
trouble himselfe much to reduce them to harmony. For they, not being very quaint, doe onely please him that makes them, and doe displease those that heare them, Especially if they be amorous complaints, or of suffering and dying, without knowing how to end. And therefore poetry that is made for mirth, and pastime, is wont to be well accepted of, and if any small fault be committed therein, it is ea∣silyer winked at, then if it were in grave, and sad matters, as for example a pastorall, or thing of pleasure, that represents (in its colour) something acted in a Country village; Accor∣dingly as we have seene, many sonnets, and pleasing madrigalls, of which I will set down one for example, which was made of a Councell held in a Vil∣lage, that had purchased it selfe to be a Towne, or Corporation.
The Hedge, and Mill, in Councell set, Proclaym'd by voyce, of common Cryer. Lord Pasquall, Merin, being met, In judgement, with Paul their Grandsire, They quit Apitius, keeping Swine, Lorenzo charge o're Bacon gave, The Butcher's bound, as with a lyne,
Of Okes, and Ac••••ons, ••are to have. They give each massy Brasse his charge, Out-rusht, Marke-Gill, the Councell fore, That he o'th pillory at large, Might treate of mending, ere they goe. Then in a rage sayes Gurca Gill, All's Ordred wel; why prate you still?
All such things of mirth, which good wits have made, for mirth, & pastime, doe take much, without prejudice to his good repute, that in such a rude style doth manifest his great ability, and elegancy, And now and then, a flash of this, doth not take ill, like a good musician, who what Song soever he singeth (though it be ordinary, and composed without art,) can help it, and by his good voyce, and grace in singing, make it shew well. But he that knowes not how to doe it, yet is confi∣dent in making of verses, and relying meerly upon his own skill, shall pub∣lish his works, to the view of al, shal lay himselfe open to a publique censure. And such as these, when they invite a friend unto their house, they torture him with their meeters and sonnets. And we may all wish, to be deliver∣ed, from a worke, or discourse of love,
made in as long as long tedious stanzaes: according as his losse or burthē, is great or pressing, so that all you read in two houres is but to play at fast and loose, and though thou desirest it not, yet heare it thou must, because it is the first time that thou sawest him. They say also, that to make verses relish well, we must not look for any meane in them, as we doe in other things so earnestly, but extremes. So that they must either be exceeding good, for to please, or ve∣ry bad, to cause mirth and laughter.
2. Of those that are good, as well an∣cient as moderne, the books, and wri∣tings of the famous Laureat poets, (to which I refer the discreet Reader) are stuffed full. But for those that are very bad, of base and poore conceipt, there might well be made a Song-booke, of the dull headed poets, which would not be a bad entertaynement, and pas∣time, for the discreete sort, to tast of, in passing by, as it were, to relish their palates withall.
3. We have, and may see (every day) the humors of most witty men, which because some of them have come to my hands, I will not (to this purpose) omit, to put a little in this sallate, and
for our musicke, it shall suffice to touch a false string, or (to speake more properly,) for this enterlude of mirth, and pastime.
One going to Toledo, to enquire a∣bout some businesse, an ordinante, pre∣suming much of his poetry, spake to the examiner (thinking thereby by his conceipts to get his good will) in this manner.
4. Your worship may be pleased to understand, that amongst the variety of guifts, the Lord hath bestowed up∣on men, he hath bin so gracious to me (although far unworthy) to endue me with the gift of poetry. So that I finde the conceipts of poetry, to spring so fast in mee, that they even treade one another under feete, in thronging to vent themselves, and som divine bymnes I have made, (after the manner of the Church anthemes,) and thus he began to read the first of them.
Let us rejoyce, let us rejoyce, It is meete we should rejoyce, Let us rejoyce, let us rejoyce.
And many such things he repeated in this strayne, which caused much
mirth, and pleasure, to see in what earnest, and how confidently he spake them. In like manner, another Coun∣try fellow in a Christmas night sung in this manner.
Ay dedesme la mano peccadores e sal∣varos he. And the letter of the words were, Ay peccadores del euerpo garrido dedesme le mano y aun in escondido, y salvar vos he.
6. And other things of this nature, which is not ill pastime, being repea∣ted in company, so they be but few, and naturally spoken.
7. He also, that cannot frame him∣selfe to poetry, and must speake in prose, ought not only to take heede, of speaking incongruous words, but also, that he spake not, in a lofty way, and in the tone of a preacher. For though there be more mastership, and difficul∣ty, to preach then to discourse: yet that must bee reserved for its proper time, As he that is to passe through the streete, must not daunce, but walke through, as all know. Though it be granted, that there is more skill, in dancing then walking, yet for all this, it would shew ridiculous, for a man to passe skipping, or dancing, for such
gestures, are to be reserved, for wed∣dings, and festivalls. And in like man∣ner, must thou forbeare, to vary thy voyce too much in thy discoursing.
8. Take heede also that thou avoyd those that are ever talking, as I have already sayd: for there are some, that are so pleased with their owne dis∣course, that when the matter is at an end, of that which they had to say, yet will they not be silent, but will be∣gin to repeate what they have sayd, or speake other impertinencies. And if any thing be uttered, that they un∣derstand, they will take it out of your mouth, like as one Hen doth snatch a∣way the meate that another Hen car∣ryeth in her beake.
9. And surely, they cannot choose but displease them from whom they (in this manner) doe take their words. And nothing so soone moves a man to anger, as when before he is aware, his minde and pleasure is crossed, bee it never so little. As if a man have but lifted up his hand, to throw a stone, and at the instant, one behind him should hold his hand.
10. All these things must be avoy∣ded: but in discoursing, we ought ra∣ther
to yield to anothers desire, then to hinder it. And therefore if any bee relating, any story, or accident, it is not good to interrupt him, or to tell him, thou knowest it already: nor as he is in the middest of his story, to mix any trifles, or jests of thine own, with this discourse, nor (to seeme) to tax his judgement, by upbrayding spee∣ches, or actions, as wagging the head or squinting, with thine eyes (as many doe) saying thou canst not endure, such harsh discourse. Nor in like man∣ner) to rend as it were a mans words, from his mouth, being an ill custome, and is no lesse distastfull, then for a man to be stopped by another as he is running a race. Nor when ano∣ther is discoursing, ought we to behave our selves, in such sort, that others that heare them, be moved to leave them, and to listen to some new discourse & gaine that attention to themselves, which was before lent to another. For it is not seemly, to dismisse one, whom thou didst not invite, but to leave him to the rest, to give him attention.
11. In like manner, thou must be at∣tentive to him that discourses, and therefore, it is not fitting at every turne
to say, how was this, I pray, as many use to doe. Which is as little pleasing, to the speaker, as to tread upon a mans gowne, as he is walking.
12. So that all this, and generally all things, that may stop, or hinder a man, to proceede in the discourse he hath begun, ought to be avoided of us. And if any be slow in his discourse, thou must not be so cholerick, to pre∣vent him, nor to tell him words to ex∣presse himselfe, although thou be rich, and abound in language, and the other be not so, for many take this ill: and especially those that think they know how to speak well. For they are per∣swaded, you understand their ability, and that you labour to help them, in their own art. Even as a rich merchant taketh it for an affront, for another to offer him mony, as if he needed it, and were poore and beggarly. And you must know, that every one thinkes, he knowes how to speake, though mode∣sty forbid him to say so.
13. And I cannot tell you the rea∣son whence it comes (yet so it is) that those that know least, are the most talkative. So that every one should be∣ware of much talking, especially if he
know little: for it is a rare thing, for a man to talke much, and not to com∣mit many errors, for he that talkes, seemes (in a sort) to exercise some sove∣raignty over his auditours as a master doth over his schollars, and it is not fitting, for a man to assume more, then his share of this superiority.
14. As much talking is troublesome, so also is much silence. For, for a man alwayes to be silent, where others are discoursing, showes they desire not to interest themselves (as it were) in pay∣ing of the shot, or discourse. And in this case, to speake, is to open the dore, to entertaine his friendship, that heares thee and on the contrary, to be silent, is to shew, that thou desirest to be unknown, and concealed. And so, in this matter of discoursing, and of the extremes thereof, I conclude; desiring thee to make use of it as a modell and rule of policy to live in good esteeme, As I found it storied in an ancient cro∣nicle, in this manner. There was in the Province of Morea, a famous Carver, called for his great skill, master Cla∣rissimo. He being now very old, made a treatise, wherein he expressed all the rules, and secrets of his art (as being
a man very skilfull) setting down, how to take the dimensions of the lymbes of a mans body, that they might beare a just proportion, and good correspondency, one with the other: and this booke hee called a rule, or direction, by which booke, according to his directions, therein conteyned, all the figures, of mens bodies, which should (from thenceforth) be made, (by other masters) should bee proportioned: and the more plainely to demon∣strate his skill, hee made a statue of fine marble, so excellent, and wel wrought, that it might (well) bee called, the example of his Booke, and receive the like name of Regla, or rule, with it, which (together) with his Booke, remained for a perfect patterne, to all the master Gravers, that should succeede him. Now then if perchance it may bee my good hap, that this little booke may come to bee a rule and patterne for a yong man, to imi∣tate, who desires to bee pleasing, and well reputed of, for his behavioure it will then serve in the place of the Carvers treatise or rule he first
made. But for the second rule, or statue of Marble, which is to put the first rules in practise, I cannot (like that great master) leave you a visible example. For it is true, that for the ordering of the manners, and customes of people, it is not enough, to know the art, and to have a rule, how to carry ones selfe: it is required also, to put them in practise, use, and custome. Which cannot bee learnt in a little time, but requires many yeares, and by little, and little, & in those things, that a man hath wholly spent his time in, hee can instruct another, the way, that hee erred in him∣selfe. And so those, who have stum∣beld, and fallen, doe far better remember, the deceiptfull, and doubtfull paths, then those that ne∣ver had experience of them.
16. And if in my tender age, when the disposition is more tender, and flexible) I had had one to admo∣nish me, of these things, perchance I should have bin as considerate as I now desire to make thee to bee. And you may understand, that though the force of a good nature,
is much, yet for all this, it may bee altered, and made worse by ill cu∣stome. And so it is convenient, that against this custome, wee oppose good rules, and examples, before it grow too strong, and obstinate: Al en hornar se hasen los panes tuer∣tos. The Ioaves became mishapen in the Oven.
17. This the greater sort doe not observe, but follow their owne minde, and pleasure, and going whither it invites them, obeying their naturall inclination, as if rea∣son were an unnaturall thing unto man. But this reason is a power∣full Lady, and mistris, to alter the Ill customes, and to helpe, and lift up nature, when shee at any time doth stumble or fal. And as we, (for the most part) doe not give eare unto her, so wee may (for the most part) bee fitly sayd, to resemble those living creatures (whom God hath not given reason unto) such as are brute Beasts, in whom some∣time wee may notwithstanding ob∣serve some worke of reason, but not of their owne, but something which wee have taught them, with our rea∣son.
As wee may observe in horses, who naturally are wilde, and fierce, and yet, every master of them makes them gentle, and well condi∣tioned, (more or lesse) according to his skill, or experience, for wee see many of them having an uncomly trot, are taught by man, to goe a smooth, and easy amble, and to stand quietly, to runne, to prance and bound, and all this they learne, and are therein subject, to our will, and reason.
18. If then, the horse, the dog, and the birds, and many other Creatures, (though much fiercer then these) doe submit themselves to the reason of another, and doe obey it, and profit so farre thereby, (A thing which by nature they know not, but were utterly repug∣nant thereto) that they become so ready, and usefull, not by nature, but meerly by custome: how much more ought man, to believe, that hee shall much advantage himselfe, by the rules, and documents, that are drawne from our owne reason, if wee will give care unto them. But sensuall men love present delight,
and avoyde that, which troubles them, and detaynes them from it. They doe not therefore reject rea∣son, because they thinke it bit∣ter, the truth being, that they esteeme it in the first place; nor is the hurtfull pleasure, (oftentimes) but even that which is good, noy∣some and offensive to the depraved, and subdued palate; for while wee live, according to sense, we are like a sicke man, to whom all foode, though it bee sweete, and pleasant, relishes ill, and seemes naught: and hee finds fault with every one, that giveth it unto him, though the fault be not in the Meate, but the bitternesse hee feeles is in his owne tongue; so that hee tastes not the goodnesse, and sweetnesse of the Meate. So reason, which of it selfe is sweete, seems bitter unto us, more by our distemper, then that (in it selfe) it is so indeed, and be∣ing tender, and delicate, we esteeme it not, but doe dissemble, and cloake our owne errors and weake∣nesse, objecting, that there are no spurres, no bridle, sufficient, to governe our naturall inclinations.
And surely, if wee should meete with Oxen, or other unreasonable creatures, they could not affoord us a worse sentence, nor more sence∣lesse then this. Wee then at ripe yeares, yea in old age it selfe would continue to be like yong men, were it not, that reason (that encreaseth in us with our yeares) doth turne us from beastes, unto men. And thereby it prevaileth above our sen∣ses, and appetite; and so is it our owne fault, and our owne neglect, and not our nature, that makes us culpable in this kinde.
14. Except wee can blame her, by way of mirth, as a witty Italian once did, upon the stage, before a great auditory, after this manner, Dame nature erred, in placing a mans legges the wrong way, up∣on his body: for the Calves, and the heeles, which should have bin set foremost, were set behind; by reason whereof, as a man walkes, hee doth often breake his shins, and hurt his Toes, (which is a great paine to him) which hee could not have done, if the Calfe of the Legge had stood formost,
but especially, in going up a paire of theyrs, our feete standing that way, doe often make us stumble, and fall. A man ought also to have had a doore made in his belly, to open and shut, that when hee should bee costive, or bound in his belly, hee might open it, and unstop the passage, and wash his Guts, and then there would bee no neede, to set such battering glister cannons against the postern, nor to make use of so many medicinall Bullets, as are used to force the passage o∣pen.
20. And it might (likewise) serve, that gallants might not cosen their mistresses, but, that when they professe to them, in this manner, my faire mistresse, I here within mee doe carry engraven in my heart, your curious portraiture, shee might (then) presently open the doore, and goe in, and see, whether hee spake true or no, and then they durst not be so bould, to lie so incre∣dibly, as they now usually doe, un∣to their mistresses.
21. But leaving these fooleries, and returning to our purpose, I
say, it is false, and perverse to maintaine there is no bridle can re∣straine nature, nor master that can tutor her. For we have seene (for∣merly) that there are two things that can order her; the first is cu∣stome, and the other is reason; and that custome must not thwart, that which is in use amongst us. For this use or custome is the sonne and heyre of our times.
22. Therefore wee ought, from our very youth, to beginne to learne to bee of a good disposi∣tion, first, because then a man hath most time to learne, and to shew it; And secondly, because that age (being tender, pure, and incorrupt,) doth easily receive any colour: and in like manner, the things a man learneth in his youth, are seldome forgotten: but sticke by us as long as wee live.
23. But besides this, we are to con∣sider, that men are passionate, up∣on beauty, handsomnesse, and good proportion, and on the contrary they are enemies to foulnesse, and things extremly ugly. And this
is one especiall priviledge, which ir∣rationall Creatures are not partakers of. For they cannot distinguish betweene beauty, and deformity. And therefore, as a thing which is not common, with the beasts, but onely proper to us; wee ought to value it, and esteeme it, much in it selfe; and much more, those that are endowed with better un∣derstanding, as being those, that are more capable to understand it: And though wee cannot precisely describe, what beauty properly is, nor in what it punctually consists, yet for all that, (that thou mayst know something of her,) I de∣sire you to know; that where you finde a decent proportion of the parts, having relation to them∣selves, in particular, and to the whole in generall, this is beauty; and that thing, where this comly, and good proportion is found, ••s a perfect and beautifull thing. Which is the greatest beauty, that can bee imagined, as I have bin taught, by a very learned man; e∣ven so as thou mayest behold in the faces of brave, and gallant La∣dies
For the forme of each of whose faces it seemes each part of them hath bin made by the pat∣terne of some one excellent face, on purpose to make them exquisite, which seemes not so in ill favo∣red faces, but the contrary, namely to bee many ugly parts, taken from severall ugly faces, to make them the more deformed. For put case, that an ill favoured Lady have great, and goggle eyes, a small and thin Nose, hollow Cheekes▪ a pouch mouth, a long chin, an ill complexion; you would thinke, that this face, was not made by one face, but taken out of many, and made of severall pieces, which you cannot thinke of a well featu∣red face, as I have already could you.
24. It may be, that famous Painter that made all the beautifull Virgins of Calabria, come naked before him, did nothing else, but view the good proportions, that many of them had taken from one excellent crea∣ture, (some of them having one part excellent, others another) and made them (every of them) re∣store
that which they had thus robbed her of, whom hee was to draw. For that the beauty of Ve∣nus was to bee such, as a Creature made up, of such severall, rare, and exquisite parts, would be.
25. I would not have you thinke, that this is to be understood onely, of the beauty of good faces, and comely proportion, of the body. But it falls out in speaking, and in action, neither more nor lesse then, as if thou shouldest finde a noble, and brave Lady, very han∣some, washing of cloathes, at a brooke, in the open streete, though for any thing else, shee offends thee not: yet even this, thou seest her doing, will make thee loath her, because she shewes not her selfe, one and the same shee appeared, but divers, and her originall, condition and estate, is such, as belong to a neate and noble Dame, But her workes, belong to a vile, and poore conditioned woman. And though there come from her, no ill sent, or favour, nor any ill noise, nor hath she an ill complexion nor doth any way offend any of thy
sences: yet will this unsutable acti∣on, base comportment, and vile worke (so unsutable to her con∣dition) bee very unpleasing to thee.
26. Thou must therefore, take heede of all things that are unsu∣table to thee, as of such like dis∣agreeing manners, and behaviour: But with greater care, and cir∣cumspection, that thou give no ex∣ample of scandall, to any by thy actions: but especially take heede of such things as I have tould you of: for it is more hard, to know when one erreth in such things, then in other: for it is true, that the sence is more active then the understanding. Yet neverthelesse, it falls out, (many times) that that very thing, that distasts the sences, doth also dis∣please the understanding: but this is not by the same occasion, but by divers, as I sayd before, when I shewed you, that a wise man must cloath himselfe, according to the fashion of other men, and not according to his owne humour; that hee may not shew, that hee de∣sires
to reprove, and amend others: which (to most men) is a hate∣full thing, to those who desire to bee commended. It doth in like manner, offend the judgment, of understanding men, and therefore a man ought not onely to bee con∣tented, to doe things, that are good, but hee must endevour, to doe them bravely, and comly. And this bravery or gallantry, is no∣thing else, but a lustre, that pro∣ceedes from the conveniency, and conformity of those things, that, are well composed, without which comlinesse, even a good thing, is not faire, nor is the beauty thereof acceptable.
27. And even as meate, though it bee good, and wholesome, if it have no relish, will not please the palate: so is it somtimes in the manners of men, which though in themselves they bee not hurtfull, nor dangerous, yet are they (ne∣verthelesse) simple, and bitter: ex∣cept grace, and bravery, be added to them, or that which wee here call pleasantnesse. For which rea∣son, every one must needs dis∣please
by committing of faults, and errors, because he doth things that agree not together, and so settled, & reserved dispositions, doe take dislike at their disagreement, or unsutable∣nesse. So that hee that would be plea∣sing to the people, in his cariage, must fly all vices; but those especially, which are most brutish, or Beastly: as are luxury, covetousnesse, cruelty, and the like, some of which are base, as namely to bee a glutton, or a drunkard, both of which (for the evill property of them) are re∣jected and abhorred, of most men, as being things dishonourable. But because wee are not, (heere) to treate of the nature of vices, or vertues, but onely of pleasing, and displeasing manners, and neglects, into which people doe fall, as was that of count Ricardo, and o∣thers, of whom I have spoken, I will not dwell upon them. It is onely my intent to speake of that, which civill and well fashioned people must observe, which is, to bee carefull to keepe this beauty, and good proportion, of the things I have told them of. Which wee
must make use of, in our wordes, and works, in going, standing still, in sit∣ting, and carrying our selves, in our cloathing, in our speech, and in houlding our peace, and in our sleeping, and (generally) in what ever wee say, or doe. And this I finde to bee the reason, why a man must not cloath himselfe like a woman, because his person must not bee of one kinde, and his ha∣bit of another: as some doe, that crisp their hayre, with hot irons, and lick their faces over, with a painting wash.
28. Nor should a man bee ei∣ther beastly, or else perfumed, for one is proper for a boore, and the other for an effeminate body; but it is best, for a Gentleman, to smell of nothing either good, or ill: this being indeede the best kinde of neatenesse.
29. Sometimes hee may use this curiosity, by meanes of some rich perfumed gloves, which hee weares, in a carelesse way. But that which doth please him best, that reckons himselfe for a Gallant, is to have his Linen sprinkled,
with sweete waters, and to have his black Cloake or Gowne, very fine, and cleane brushed. Which things hee that may, yet will not have them, offends the sight of his friend, for slovenlinesse is a vice, and neat∣nesse a vertue, as was well sayd, by a grave Arch-Bishop of Grana∣do, to his Chaplaine, who think∣ing to get the Bishops favour, and so bee the sooner preferred by him, distinguisht himselfe, from the o∣ther Chaplaines, by his beastly and slovenly going, as with his necke bare, without any appear∣ance of a Shirt, and his head hanging in his bosome. The wise Arch-Bishop, finding his hypocri∣sy, sayd unto him, Father, this is not holinesse, but nastinesse; goe neate; and cleanely, or else you get nothing of mee. It would con∣sequently have pleased this pre∣late, as ill, to see in his servants such extreame curiosity and nice∣nesse and tricking, that many use, straightning their Neckes so with their Collers, that if they bee to turne their Heades, on one side, they cannot doe it, but they are
forced, to turne their whole bo∣dies, and by their trimmings, and em∣broderies, their cloathes cannot bee distinguished, from the cloathes, which the gallant Ladies weare. And so, all disproportion doth ill become: As on the contrary, it beseemes not a pleasing Courtier, to goe poorely, or slovenly or care∣lessely, attyred: never taking care, to button his Doublet, or to bee trimmed, or to goe in thrid-bare or torne Garments. To this pur∣pose it is storyed of a Lords yonger sonne, Unto whom his Parents ne∣ver gave any cloathes, but such as his elder brother had left off, that both of them falling sicke, and Chickens being provided for them to eate, at the meale time the tenderest Chicken was made choyce of for his elder brother: the yonger brother seeing it, spake thus to his Parents, How comes it to passe, that I must have the tough Chicken, and the tender cloathes? And for this speech, hee was so esteemed, and got the favour of his Parents so much, that ever after that, they gave him as good
cloathes as his elder Brother.
30. The cloathes as wee have sayd, must bee according to the fashion that others of thy age doe weare their garments in, and in the company of the grave Nobility, plumes, and springgs, (such as Soul∣diers weare in the Warres) are not seemely, to bee worne, nor Em∣broideries, and laced Garments; much lesse armes, or buffe Coates, which onely in the Warre, doe shew well. For the curious Cava∣leeres, and Souldiers, that are court∣ly; when they are in the Cities, or Court, they lay aside their bravery and they bee such Souldiers (for the most part) that never were out of the Land, or in the Warres, that doe use to flant it, in this man∣ner. And in Cities, and among quiet people, those that goe armed, (usually) and with plumes in their Hats, are not pleasing, for they are like Nettles, or stinking weeds, in a Garden of sweete Herbes, and Flowers. And so are ill accepted of, by the Citizens, being di∣stinguished from them, in their habits.
31. An honourable person must not runne through the street, nor make much hast, like him that goes of an errand, which is fitter for Lackayes, and footmen, then for people of worth to doe: and be∣sides this, they make themselves sweete, and put themselves out of breath, to no purpose, there be∣ing no necessity for them to doe it.
32. Yet ought not one to goe so softly, and slowly, as Women, nor so soberly, as a Bride; nor when hee walketh in hast, to goe wreathing his body, or looke smilingly upon e∣very body, like little girles.
33. Nor to lift up both his hands, clutched together, or to thrust out his Armes, which is, as if a man, were going to sowe Corne with them.
34. Some in their going lift up their feete like Horses, that start: and doe lash out their Legges as farre as if they drew them out of the midst of a Chest, or some deepe Vessell: some drawle their Feete so, upon the ground, that a Cart makes but a little more noise,
then they doe: and some there bee, that east one Foote out from them, ill favouredly, and others that rubbe one Legge against another, or goe shaking and in a dancing fashion; all which things, are unseemly, and displeasing. For if (by chance) thy Horse goes with his mouth o∣pen, or shew his tongue, though it take not from his goodnesse, yet for all this hee is the lesse worth, for this ill favoured quality: if then bravery, and neatnesse, bee estee∣med so much, in unreasonable crea∣tures, and even in things without sense, as for example, two houses built in one place, and with one charge, if one of them bee more comly and more pleasant then the other, it is therefore accompted more worth: how much more then this beauty, and neatnesse is va∣lued, by men, it is easy from hence to be understood.
35. It is not good, when thou art at the Table, to scratch thy selfe; and a man must at that time, for∣beare to spit; and if hee bee for∣ced to doe it, it is seemely, for him to doe it, very concealedly.
I have heard one say, hee hath seene a people, that doe never spit, therefore we may well forbeare it for a little space.
36. Wee ought also, to beware of taking our Meate so greedily, that by that meanes, there be caused belching or any other unpleasing act, like as those doe, who make so much hast, that they are forced, to fetch their breath strongly, and to puffe, and blow, with trouble to all the company.
37. Nor must wee wipe our Teeth with our Napkin, or with our Finger, nor wash our mouth, and so spit out the washing thereof, that all may see thee.
38. Nor after we are risen from the Table, to stand with a pick∣tooth, in our mouth, or any other instrument wee use to make them cleane withall: like a Bird, that is car∣rying strawes, or stickes to her neast; nor to stick them in our eares, like a Barber.
39. And hee that hath a clenser for his Teeth, hanging about his necke, let him not draw it out; for besides that it is strange, to see a
Gentleman, draw out of his bo∣some, an instrument, belonging to a Tooth-drawer, it argues him, (also) to have much thought of his belly. And according as hee weares this, hee may as well also weare a Spoone about his neck.
40. Wee ought not, to leane with our Elboes, or Armes, upon the Table: nor to stuffe our mouthes, with Meate, so full, that our Cheekes, may bee swollen (there∣by) like a Bag-pipers, nor to shew any action, by which wee may make it appeare, to another, that the Meate pleaseth us very much, or the Wine, which is the fashion of vintners, and of pratling Drun∣kards: nor to call to them, that are at the Table, in this manner; you eate nothing to day, or heere is nothing you can eate, I pray eate of this. Which (mee thinkes) is not fitting, though hee thou hast invited, bee one of thy kindred, or very familiar friend: for though thereby, it seemes thou hast a care of him, yet many times, it is an occasion, that thy Guest cannot use his owne liberty, in his dyet,
and so may get hurt thereby. And therefore I hould it not fitting, to offer another any thing, that thou hast upon thy Trencher, ex∣cept thou bee a farre better man, then hee: so that, hee that re∣ceives it, may take it, for an honour done unto him. For a∣mongst equalls, hee that thus of∣fers it, seemes to make himselfe better then him, to whom hee of∣fers it; and it may offend him, that the other should thus (seeme to) undervalue him. Yet notwith∣standing this, thou must not refuse, or returne, that which hee presents thee withall, that thou mayst not seeme, to take it ill, or to finde fault with him.