Part 4

But to returne to our matter: it is not good for a man to chide at the table for any cause. And if thou be angrie, shew it not, nor make no signe of thy greefe, for the reason I have tolde thee, and specially if thou have straungers with thee: because thou haste called them to be merry, and this wil make them sad. For, as the sharpe and tarte things y^t other men doe feede uppon in thy sight, doe 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 be overtwhart to other men: as the very worde it selfe doth shewe. For, Frome-warde, signifieth asmuche, as Shorne against the wooll. Now, how fit a thinge this frowardnes is, to win the good will of men, and cause men to wishe well unto them: that you your self may easily Judge, in that it consisteth in overtwharting other mens desiers: which qualitie never mainteineth friendship, but maketh friends become foes. And therfor let them that desire to be well thought of and welcome amongst men, endevour them selves to shunne this fault: For it breedes no good liking nor love, but hatred and hurt. I would councell you rather to measure your pleasures by other mens willes: where there shal come no hurt nor shame of it: and therin alwayes to doe & to saye, more to please other mens mindes and fansies, then your owne.

Againe, you must be neither clownishe nor lumpishe: but pleasaunt and familiar. For there should bee no oddes, betweene the Mystell and the Pungitopo: but that the one is wilde: the other growes in gardens. And you must understand, that he is pleasaunt and courteous: whose manners bee suche in his common behaviour, as practise to keepe, and maintaine him friendeship amongst them: where hee that is solleyne and waywarde, makes him selfe a straunger whersoever hee comes: a straunger, I meane, asmuch as a forreigne or alienborne: 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 shalbe necessarie for a man, to use him selfe to salute, to speake, and to answer after a gentle sorte, and to behave him selfe w^t all men so: as if hee were their countryman borne, & of their olde acquaintance. Which some can ill skill to doe, that never give a man a good countenaunce: easily say, No, to all things: never take in good worthe, the honour and courtesie that men doe unto them (like to the people I spake of before, rude and barbarous): never take delight in any pleasaunt conceites or other pleasures: but ever refuse it all, what soever is presented or offered unto them. If a man say: "Sir, suche a one willed me to commend him unto you:" They aunswere straite: "what have I too doe with his greetings?" And if a man say: "Sir, suche a one your friend, asked me how you did." They aunswer againe in choler: "Let him come feele my pulse." These carterlike and clownishe aunswers and maners, and the men them selves that doe use them: would bee chased and hunted away, out of all good and honest company.

It ill becomes a man when hee is in company, to bee sad, musing, and full of contemplation. And albeit, it may bee suffered perchaunce in them that have long beaten their braines in these Mathematicall studies: which are called (as I take it) the Liberall Artes: yet without doubte it may not be borne in other men. For, even these studious fellowes, at suche time, when they be so ful of their Muses: should be much wiser to get them selves alone.

Againe, to bee to nice or to deintie: it may not be abiden, and specially in men. For, to live with suche kinde of people: is rather a slaverie then pleasure. And sure there bee som such, so softe & tender: y^t to live and deale with such people, it is as daungerous: as to medle with the finest and brittelest glasse that may be: So muche they are affraide of every light touche. And they wilbe as testy and frowarde, if you doe not quickly and readily salute them, visite them, worship them, and make them answer: as some other body would be, for the greatest injurie y^t can be donne unto them. And if you doe not give them all the due reverence that may be: they will presently take a thousand occasions to quarell and fall out with you. If you chaunce to Master him, and leave out his title of Honour or worship: he takes that in dougeon, and thinkes you doe mock him. And if you set him beneath as good a man as him self at the table: that is against his honour. If you doe not visite him at home at his house: then you knowe not your dutie. Theis maner of fashions and behaviours, bring men to such scorne and disdaine of their doings: that there is no man, almost, can abide to beholde them: for they love them selves to farre beyonde measure, and busie them selves so much in that, that they finde litle leisure to bethinke them selves to love any other: which (as I have saide from the beginning) men seeke to finde in the conditions and maners of those with whome they must live: I meane, that they should apply them selves to the fansies & mindes of their friendes. But to live w^t suche people, so hard to please: whose love and friendship once wonne, is as easily lost, as a fine scarfe is lightly caried away with the winde: that is no life but a service: and, besides that it yealdeth no pleasure, it geves a man greate disdaine and horror. Let us therefore leave these softe and wanton behaviours to women.

In speach a man may fault many wayes. And first in the matter it selfe that is in talke, which may not be vaine or filthye. For, they that doe heare it, will not abide it: as y^e talk they take no pleasure to heare: but rather scorne the speache and the speaker both. Againe, a man must not move any question of matters that be to deepe & to subtile: because it is hardly understoode of the moste. And a man must warely foresee, that the matter bee suche, as none of the company may blushe to heare it, or receave any shame by the tale. Neither must he talke of any filthy matter, albeit a man would take a pleasure to heare it: for, it ill becomes an honest gentleman, to seeke to please, but in things that be honest.

Neither in sporte nor in earnest, must a man speake any thing against God or his Saintes, how witty or pleasaunt so ever the matter be. Wherein, the company that Giovan Boccaccio hathe brought to speake in his Novelles and tales, hath faulted so muche: that me thinkes every good body, may justly blame them for it. And you must thinke It is not only a token of great detestation & Impietie in a man, to talke in jestinge wise of God: but hee is a wicked & sinfull man, that will abide to heare it. But you shall finde some suche good men, as will flie asmuche as the plague, the company of such as talke so unreverently, and without respect, of the incomprehensible Majestie of God. And wee must not alone speake religiously of him: but in all our talkes wee must avoide what wee may, that our wordes may not witnes against our life and our workes. For men doe hate their owne faultes otherwhile, when they see them in another.

Likewise it is unsavourie, to talke of things out of time, not fitting the place and company: although the matter it selfe, and spoken in time, were otherwise both good and godly. We must not then reherse Friers sermones to young gentlewomen, when they are disposed to sporte them selves: as y^t good man did, that dwelles not farr hence, nere to S. Brancatio. And in feastes & at table, wee must beware wee doe not rehearse any sorowfull tales, nor put them in minde of woundes, of sicknes, of deathes, of Plagues, or of other dolefull matters. But if another man chaunce to move suche matter: it shalbe good, after an honest and gentell sorte, to exchaunge that talke, and thrust in some other, y^t may give them more delighte and pleasure to heare it. Albeit, not long since I heard it said to a worthy gentleman our neighbour, that Men have many times more neede to weepe then to laugh. And for that cause hee said, these dolefull tales, which wee call Tragedies, were devised at first, that when they were playd in the Theatres (as at that time they were wont) they might draw fourth teares out of their eyes, that had neede to spend them. And so they were by their weeping, healed of their infirmitie. But albeit it bee good to doe so: yet it will il become us to drive men into their dumpes: especially where they bee mett to feaste and to solace themselves, & not to mourne. For if there be any, y^t hath suche weeping disease: it will bee an easie matter to cure it, w^t stronge Mustard or a smoaky house. So that, in no wise, I can excuse our friend Philostrato, for his worke that hee made full of dule and of death, to suche a company as desired nothing more then mirthe. Wee must the rather use silence, then discourse of suche sorrowfull matters.

And they doe asmuche amisse too, that never have other thing in their mouthe, then their children, their wife, and their nourse. "My litle boy, made mee so laughe yesterday: heare you: you never sawe a sweeter babe in your life: my wife is such a one, Cecchina told mee: of troth you would not beleeve what a wit shee hath:" There is none so idle a body, that will either intend to answer, or abide to heare suche foolishe prittle prattle. For it ircks a mans eares to harken unto it.

There be some againe, so curious in telling their dreames from point to point, using such wonder and admiration withall, y^t it makes a mans hart ake to heare them: & specially because (for y^e most parte) they be such kinde of people: as it is but labour lost to heare, even the very best exploits they doe, when they be most awake, and labour most to shew their best. Wherfore we must not trouble men with so base and absurde matter as dreames bee: especially suche foolishe things, as most times men have. Albeit I have heard say many times, that wisemen in times past, have leaft in their bookes many sortes of dreames, conteining matters of deepe knowledge and understanding: it followeth not yet, that wee, the unlearned and common sorte of people, should use it in our familiar and common talke. And sure of all the dreames 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 grosse: but full of knowledge and singular witte. And thus was his dreame, This gentleman Master Flaminio Tomarozzo, thought he was sitting in a very riche Apothecaries shop, a neere neighbour of his. And after he had bin there a while (what soever the occasion was) the people were up in a rore one a sodaine, and fell to spoiling of all that was in the shoppe. One tooke an Electuarie, another a Confection, some one thing, some another, and presently eate it upp all: So that within a while, there was neither virell glasse, ertherne pot, wodden boxe, nor any potels of drugges, that was not emptied, broken, or overthrowne. But amongest them all, ther was one verye small glasse, full to the toppe of verie cleare water, which many did smell to, but no man would taste. He stoode 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 Apothecaries boxes and pottes, and finding some emptied, some overthrowne, and the better parte broken: At lenght casting his eye aside, he chaunced to see the smal glasse I spake of before, and setting the same to his mouthe, hee dranke it up so cleane: that he leaft not one droppe. And this doone, he went from thence as the rest did before. Master Flaminio was abashed and marveled muche at this matter. And therefore turning to the Apothecarie he saied unto him: Sir, whoe is this that came laste? and why did he drinke up so savourly, all the water in that litle glasse, which all the reast refused. To whome the Apothecarie seemed to make this aunswer. My sonne, this is the Lord God. And the water, that hee alone dranke, and all the reast refused and would not taste as you saw: was discretion: which, you know wel ynough men will not taste of, by any meanes.

Such kind of dreames, I hould well a man may rehearse, and heare with much pleasure and profit. Bycause they doe more resemble, the Cogitations & thoughts of an awakened minde: or better, I shoulde say, the vertue sensitive: then the visions and sights of a drowsie head. But those other dreames, without shape, fashion or sense: (which the moste parte of suche men as we are, bee wont to have) would be forgotten cleane, and lost with our sleepe. Howbeit, I doe not deny but the dreames of good men and learned, be better and wiser than theires of the wicked and more unlearned sorte.

And albeit a man would weene, there can bee nothing in the worlde more vaine then Dreames: yet there is one thing more light then they, and that are Lies. For there is yet some shadowe, and, as it were, a certaine feeling of that which a man hath seene in his dreame. But there is neither shadowe nor bodye of a trueth in a lie. And therfore we should lesse busie mens eares, and their mindes to harken to lies, then to dreames, because they bee otherwhile received for truethes. But time, in the ende, discovers suche pelfe: that liers, not only doe gaine no credite, but no man vouchesafes to harken unto them, in otherwise (as the men that carry no substaunce in their woordes) then if they had saide nothing or blowne a litle winde. And you shal understand, ther be many y^t use to lie, not minding any ill purpose in it, or to make their owne peculiar proffit by it, to hurt other men or shame their neighbour: onely they doe it, for a pleasure they take to tell a lie: as men that drinke not, all for thirst: but for a pleasure they take, to taste of the wine. Other some doe tell lies, to make a vaine glorious boasting of them selves: vaunting and telling in a bravery, what wonderfull exploits they have doone, or bearing men in hand, they be greate doctours and learned men.

In Silence too, after a sorte, without speache, a man may tell a lesinge: I meane with his gestures and grace: as some you shall see, that being of meane, or rather base condition and calling, use suche a solemnitie in all their doings, and marche so stately, and speake with suche a prerogative, or rather discourse like Parleament men, setteling them selves, as it were, in a place of Judgement, proudly prying about them like Peacockes: that it is a very death to behold them.

And some suche you shall finde, that allthough they bee combered with no more wealthe then easily serves their turne: yet will they never appeare unles their neckes be laden with chaines, their fingers full of rings, their cappes beset with agletts, and every other parte bespangled, as though they would defie y^e King of Castiglio. Whose behaviours be full of follies and vaine glorie, which cometh of pride, growing of vanitie it selfe. So that wee must eschew these faults, as foule and unseemely things. You shall understand, in many Cities, and those of the best, the lawes doe not suffer, that riche men should go muche more gorgeously attired, then the poore. For poore men thinke they have a wrong: when men seeme, but in countenaunce alone, as it were Imperiously to reigne over them. So that we must carefully beware we fall not into these follies.

Neither must a man boaste of his Nobilitie, his Honour or riches: muche lesse vaunt of his witt, or gloriously reherse to much of his deedes & valiant Actes, or what his Auncestors have done, nor uppon every occasion, fall in rehersall of suche thinges, as many men doe. For in suche case, a man would weene, they seeke, either to contend with the Company, (if they be, or will take uppon them to bee, as good Gentlemen, & of as muche wealthe and worthines, as they bee:) or elles to overcrowe them, (if they live in meaner condition and calling, then they doe). And as it were to upbraide them, their poore and base condition of life.

A man must neither embase, nor exalte him selfe to muche out of measure: but rather bury in silence some parte of his merits, then arrogate to muche unto him. Bycause Goodnes it selfe, when it excedeth muche, is ever envide of some. And you may be sure, they that embase them selves thus beyond measure, refusing that worship and honour that is but duely their owne of very right: shewe more pride in this contempte, then they that usurpe those things, that are not so due unto them. So y^t a man perchaunce, might saye, Giotto hath not deserved those Commendations y^t some beleve, in y^t he refused to be called Master: being not only a master but without doubt a singular and cunning master in his art in those dayes. But be it blame, or praise y^t he deserved: it is most sure, he that refuseth that which every man els doth hunt for: sheweth therin, he reproveth or contemneth the common opinion of men. And, to contemne the honour & renowne, which other men gape for so much, is but to glorie and magnifie him selfe above other. For asmuche as there is no man (without he be mad) will refuse and reject things that be deare and of price: unles hee be suche, as hathe plenty and store of those deare and deintie things.

Wee must not boast of those good things that be in us, nor set them to light: for in y^e one, wee doe upbraide men their faults: In the other, wee scorne to muche their vertues. But it behoveth every man to speake his owne praise, as litle as hee may. And if occasion drive him unto it: it shalbe good, modestly to speake the truethe, as I have told you before.

And therefore, they that desire to doe men a pleasure: must needes leave one faulte, y^t is to common with all men: they must not shewe them selves so afraide and fearefull to speake their mindes, when a man dothe aske their advise. For, it is a deadly paine to here them, & specialy if they be men, in y^e Judgement of y^e world, of good understanding and wisedome. What a fetching about is this, ere they come to y^e mater? Sir I beseche you pardon mee, if I doe not say well. I will speake like a gros man as I am: & grosly according to my pore skil. And Sir, I am sure you will but mocke me for it. But yet, to obey you: & they drawe their words forth so long, & put them selves to suche paine: y^t, while these ceremonies be a doing, y^e hardest question y^t is, might have bin determined with fewer words and shorter time: bycause they cannot get out of these protestations, when they bee in.

They bee also very tedious to men, and their conversation & maners are very troublesome: whoe shewe too base and abject a minde in their doings. And where the chefest and highest place, is apparantly due unto them: they will ever creepe downe to the lowest. And it is a spitefull buisines to thrust them up: For they will straite jogge backe againe, like a resty Jade, or a Nagge that startleth a side at his shadowe. So that, there is muche a dooe w^t them, when wee meete at a doore. For they will not (for all you can dooe) in any case enter before you, but so traverse their ground, go backe, and so fray and defend with their armes and their handes: that at every thirde steppe, a man must be ready to wage battell with them: and thus they breake of, all solace and pleasure, and otherwhile, the buisines they meete aboute.

And therfore, Ceremonies, which wee name, as you heare, by a straunge terme, as lacking a worde of our owne, bycause our elders, having no knowledge of those superstitious fashions, coulde not well give them a proper name. Ceremonies, I saye, (in my Judgement,) differ not much from lies & dreames, for their own very vainesse it selfe. So that wee may couple and joine them together in this our treatise, sithe occasion serves so fitt to speake of them here. As a good man hath often shewed me: those solemnities that church men doe use at their Altars, and in their divine service bothe to God and his holy things, are properly called Ceremonies: but after, men did begin, to reverence eche other with curious entertainements, more then were convenient, and would be called masters and Lords, amongest them selves, yealding bending, and bowing their bodies, in token of reverence one to another, uncovering their heads, using highe titles and Styles of honour, and kissing their hands as if they were hollye things: some body, by like considering all these things well, and finding these newe founde curious follies without any name: thought good to Christen and call them Ceremonies, but sure in a jest as I take it: as to be mery and make good cheare, we terme it in sport, a triumph: which custome, no doubt, tooke not his being at us, but elles where, as barbarous & straunge: and not long since, from whence I knowe not, transported into Italie: whose deedes being wretched, and effects base and vile, hath gotten encrease and honor, in vaine woords alone, and superfluous titles.

Ceremonies then, if we consider well their intents that use them: are but vaine shewes of honour and reverence, towardes him to whome they be doone: framed of semblance and wordes touching their titles and courtious offers. I say vaine: In that we honour men to their face, whome we reverence not in deede, but otherwhile contemne. And nevertheles, because we may not go against custome, wee give them these titles: The most honorable Lord suche a one: the Noble Lord suche a one. And so otherwhile wee offer them our humble service: whome wee could better unserve then serve, & commaund then doe them any duety.

Then not Lesinges alone, but also Treacheries and Treasons, shalbe called Ceremonies. But because these wordes and these titles above rehersed, have lost their strength: and waste, (as a man may say of Iron) their temper, w^t such continuall occupying of it as it we doe 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 allwayes happens to all men, dothe shewe it plaine inoughe. For if wee meete with a man, we never sawe before: with whome, uppon some occasion, it behoves us to talke: without examining wel his worthines, most commonly, that wee may not offend in to litle, we give him to much, and call him Gentleman, and otherwhile Sir, althoughe he be but some Souter or Barbar, or other suche stuffe: and all bycause he is appareled neate, somewhat gentleman like.

And as men in times past, were wont to have under the Privilege of the Pope & Emperour, peculiar & distinct titles of honour, which might not be untouched, without doing wrong to the privileged men: nor againe attributed & geven without a scorne, to them that were no such privileged persones: So at this daye, wee must more freely use those titles, and the other significations of honour, like to those titles: bycause Custome the mightiest Lorde, hathe largely therewith, privileged men of our time.

This use and custome, then so faire and gallant without, is altogether vaine within, and consisteth in semblance without effect, & in wordes without meaning. But this notwithstanding, it is not lawful for us to chaunge it: but rather, bycause it is not our fault, but the fault of our time, wee are bounde to followe it: but yet wee must discretely doe it.

So that wee are to noate, that Ceremonies are used, either for a Profit, or for a Vanitie, or for a Duetie. And every lie that is told for a mans private profit: is a deceite, a sinne, and a dishonest parte: for, in what so ever it bee, A man can never honestly lie.