Part 2

A singular fact to be noted in the English courtesy books is the almost complete absence of allusions to women. Barring the _Good Wife_ and _Wise Man_, which are distinctly middle class in tone, we have practically nothing to represent the elaborate directions for conduct in some of the foreign treatises. Yet it cannot be doubted that the English system of patronage led to social problems and rules for the demeanour of young men and women together, such as prevailed abroad. Undoubtedly, too, the association of a lord’s pages and a lady’s maidens must have furthered the arrangement of marriages, perhaps not always in the way desired. Take, for example, the case of Anne Boleyn. After seven years’ service with the royal ladies of France, she came home and was placed in the household of Queen Katharine. Meanwhile, there was attendant upon Cardinal Wolsey a certain young Lord Percy, who, whenever his master was with the king, would “resort for pastime into the queen’s chamber, and there would fall in dalliance among the queen’s maidens.” In the end, he and Mistress Anne were secretly troth-plight; but Wolsey discovered the arrangement and sent the girl home, whereat she “smoked” (we say _fumed_) until she was recalled and heard of the great love the king bore her “in the bottom of his stomach”; then she “began to look very hault and stout, having all manner of jewels or rich apparel that might be gotten for money.” And doubtless there are many other similar complications to be found among old records, and more have perished, or were never written down at all.

It is something of a shock to turn from the elaborate rules for carving and serving, as set forth by Russell and others, to the domestic records of the time. The mingled splendour and squalor of the Middle Ages almost passes belief. We read of priceless hangings and costumes that cost each a small fortune, yet Erasmus describes the floors in noblemen’s houses as sometimes encumbered with refuse for twenty years together.[10] King Edward IV. was provided with a barber who shaved him once a week, and washed his head, feet, and legs, _if_ he so desired. A proper bath, according to Russell, seems to have been an event to be heralded with flowers and resorted to chiefly as curative. We see to-day the splendid palaces and castles, such as Hampton Court and Windsor, Knole and Penshurst and Warwick, built by kings and noblemen, and yet Henry VIII had to enact a law against the filthy condition of the servants in his own kitchen, and Wolsey, passing through the suitors in Westminster Hall, carried disinfectants concealed in an orange. It is this contrast in manners, doubtless, which will first strike the reader. A young nobleman had to be instructed not only how to hold his carving-knife with a thumb and two fingers, but also not to dip his meat into the salt-cellar, or lick the dust out of dish with his tongue, or wipe his nose on the table-cloth; and other instructions were added too primitive for translation. Undoubtedly, the general impression that one derives is, as Dr. Furnivall puts it, of “dirty, ill-mannered, awkward young gawks,” whose “maistyrs” were greatly to be pitied. But, on the whole, it is surprising to note how little the fundamental bases of good manners have altered. Though we are not to-day so plain-spoken, our ideals are similar to those of our ancestors, but theirs was the greater difficulty of attainment. Personal cleanliness, self-respect, reverence to one’s better, and consideration for one’s neighbour seem to have been then as they are now, the foundation-stones.

On the other hand, it is interesting to notice the development of manners with improved conditions of life. One code was altered with the introduction of the handkerchief, another with the use of the fork (apparently first mentioned in 1463, but not common until after 1600, though it had long been in use on the Continent), and so on, so that by degrees social expedients and ceremonies change, while essentials remain.

Of each of the pieces here included I give a brief account in the notes. Needless to say, they form only a small portion of an enormous practical literature, though they are fairly representative of the English branch of it, for the time that they cover. In order to bring even so much within the compass of this small volume, it has been found necessary to condense. The principle of condensation has been as follows: whenever a text is particularly wordy for the matter that it contains, or has been found difficult to reproduce in modern language in the old verse-form, it has been done simply into prose. In cases where the metrical form has been preserved, perhaps both rhythm and rhyme have suffered in the translation; but in no instance has there been any poetic beauty lost, for the plain reason that the literary value of these productions is nil. In addition to a few omissions on grounds of taste, I have put aside various recipes and dietaries, hoping to use them later in a book devoted entirely to that sort of thing; and for the same reason, I have omitted considerable portions of Russell’s work, in which he deals with the dietetic properties and values of different kinds of food, describes various sorts of wines, enters into the details of carving fish, flesh, and fowl, and sets forth numerous recipes and elaborate menus. It is all interesting but has little to do with manners. Likewise, I have omitted Wynkyn de Worde’s _Book of Carving_, which seems to be only a prose version of Russell, portions of Rhodes’s work which deal rather with professional serving-men, and of Seager’s and West’s books, which treat of morals rather than manners. Further, I have omitted the various Latin and French poems on the subject, and a number of odds and ends of a generally didactic character, which, it seemed, could be best spared.

In translating, I have tried to keep as much as possible the quaint flavour of the originals, especially in the case of those rendered into modern English in the verse form. To that end I have retained old words and constructions whenever they seemed intelligible, although eccentric and perhaps ungrammatical to-day. When an archaic word alone conveyed the exact meaning, or was especially picturesque, I have left it, with a gloss at the bottom of the page, where also I refer to notes at the end, on points which seem to require special elucidation. My aim throughout has been to make the texts clear with the minimum of alteration. Doubtless I could have improved the metre frequently by merely a change in order of words; but I thought it better to meddle as little as possible, except for the sake of clearness; and so the verse often bumps along cheerfully, regardless of rhythm, style, and grammar. I think I may claim that in substance the modernised _Babees’ Book_ is as near as possible to its original.

About half of the translations have been made by Miss L. J. Naylor.

THE BABEES’ BOOK

OR

A LITTLE REPORT OF HOW YOUNG PEOPLE SHOULD BEHAVE

MAY He who formed mankind in His image, support me while I turn this treatise out of Latin into my common language, that through this little comment all of tender years may receive instruction in courtesy and virtue.

Facet[11] saith that the Book of Courtesy to teach the practice of virtue is the most helpful thing in the world, so I will not shrink from this labour or refuse it; but for mine own learning will say something that touches upon the matter.

But oh, young babies, whom blood royal hath endowed with grace, comeliness, and high ability, it is on you I call to know this book, for it were great pity but that ye added to sovereign beauty virtue and good manners. Therefore I speak to you specially, and not to old men expert in governance, decorum, and honest manners, for what need is to give pangs to Hell, joy to Heaven, water to the sea, or heat to fire already hot?

And so, young babies,[12] my book is only for your instruction; wherefore I pray that no man reprehend it, but amend it where it is at fault, and judge it not, for your own sake. I seek no other reward but that it may please men and give you some ease in learning.[12] Also, sweet children, if there be in it any word that ye ken not, speer[13] while ye may, and when ye know it, bear it in mind; and so by asking you may learn of wise men. Also, think not too strangely that my pen writes in this metre;[12] for such verse is commonly used, therefore take heed.

And first of all, I think to show how you babies who dwell in households, should ’have[14] yourselves when ye be set at meat, and how when men bid you be merry, you should be ready with lovely, sweet and benign words. In this, aid me, O Mary, Mother Revered; and eke, O lady mine, Facetia,[12] guide thou my pen and show unto me help. For as A is the first of all letters, so art thou mother of all virtue. Have pity, sweet lady, of my lack of wit, and though untaught I speak of demeanour, support my ignorance with thy goodly aid.

Ah, “bele[15] babees,” hearken now to my lore.

When you enter your lord’s place, say “God speed,” and with humble cheer greet all who are there present. Do not rush in rudely, but enter with head up and at an easy pace, and kneel on one knee only to your lord or sovereign, whichever he be.

If any speak to you at your coming, look straight at them with a steady eye, and give good ear to their words while they be speaking; and see to it with all your might that ye jangle[16] not, nor let your eyes wander about the house, but pay heed to what is said, with blithe visage and diligent spirit. When ye answer, ye shall be ready with what ye shall say, and speak “things fructuous,”[17] and give your reasons smoothly in words that are gentle but compendious,[18] for many words are right tedious to the wise man who listens; therefore eschew them with diligence.

Take no seat, but be ready to stand until you are bidden to sit down. Keep your hands and feet at rest; do not claw your flesh or lean against a post, in the presence of your lord, or handle anything belonging to the house.

Make obeisance to your lord always when you answer; otherwise, stand as still as a stone, unless he speak.

Look with one accord that if ye see any person better than yourself come in, ye go backwards anon and give him place, and in nowise turn your face from him, as far forth as you may.

If you see your lord drinking, keep silence, without loud laughter, chattering, whispering, joking or other insolence.

If he command you to sit in his presence, fulfil his wish at once, and strive not with another about your seat.

When you are set down, tell no dishonest tale; eschew also, with all your might, to be scornful; and let your cheer be humble, blithe, and merry, not chiding as if ye were ready for a fight.

If you perceive that your better is pleased to commend you, rise up anon and thank him heartily.

If you see your lord and lady speaking of household matters, leave them alone, for that is courtesy, and interfere not with their doing; but be ready, without feigning, to do your lord service, and so shall you get a good name.

Also, to fetch him drink, to hold the light when it is time, and to do whatsoever ought to be done, look ye be ready; for so shall ye full soon get a gentle name in nurture. And if you should ask a boon of God, you can desire no better thing than to be well-mannered.

If your lord is pleased to offer you his own cup to drink, rise when you take it, and receive it goodly with both your hands, and when you have done, proffer it to no man else, but render it again to him that brought it, for in nowise should it be used commonly—so wise men teach us.

Now must I tell you shortly what you shall do at noon when your lord goes to his meat. Be ready to fetch him clear water, and some of you hold the towel for him until he has done, and leave not until he be set down, and ye have heard grace said. Stand before him until he bids you sit, and be always ready to serve him with clean hands.

When ye be set, keep your own knife clean and sharp, that so ye may carve honestly[19] your own meat.

Let courtesy and silence dwell with you, and tell no foul tales to another.

Cut your bread with your knife and break it not. Lay a clean trencher[20] before you, and when your pottage is brought, take your spoon and eat quietly; and do not leave your spoon in the dish, I pray you.

Look ye be not caught leaning on the table, and keep clear of soiling the cloth.

Do not hang your head over your dish, or in any wise drink with full mouth.

Keep from picking your nose, your teeth, your nails at meal-time—so we are taught.

Advise you against taking so muckle meat into your mouth but that ye may right well answer when men speak to you.

When ye shall drink, wipe your mouth clean with a cloth, and your hands also, so that you shall not in any way soil the cup, for then shall none of your companions be loth to drink with you.

Likewise, do not touch the salt in the salt-cellar with any meat; but lay salt honestly on your trencher, for that is courtesy.

Do not carry your knife to your mouth with food, or hold the meat with your hands in any wise; and also if divers good meats are brought to you, look that with all courtesy ye assay of each; and if your dish be taken away with its meat and another brought, courtesy demands that ye shall let it go and not ask for it back again.

And if strangers be set at table with you, and savoury meat be brought or sent to you, make them good cheer with part of it, for certainly it is not polite when others be present at meat with you, to keep all that is brought you, and like churls vouchsafe nothing to others.

Do not cut your meat like field-men who have such an appetite that they reck not in what wise, where or when or how ungoodly they hack at their meat; but, sweet children, have always your delight in courtesy and in gentleness, and eschew boisterousness with all your might.

When cheese is brought, have a clean trencher, on which with a clean knife ye may cut it; and in your feeding look ye appear goodly, and keep your tongue from jangling, for so indeed shall ye deserve a name for gentleness and good governance, and always advance yourself in virtue.

When the end of the meal is come, clean your knives, and look you put them up where they ought to be,[21] and keep your seat until you have washed, for so wills honesty.

When ye have done, look then that ye rise up without laughter or joking or boisterous word, and go to your lord’s table, and there stand, and pass not from him until grace be said and brought to an end.

Then some of you should go for water, some hold the cloth, some pour upon his hands.

Other things I might commend you to do, but as my time is brief, I put them not into this little report; but overpass them, praying with a spirit that rejoices in this labour, that no man abuse me; but where too little is, let him add more, and where too much, let him take away, for though I would, time forbids that I say more. Therefore I take my leave, and inscribe this book to every wight whom it may please to correct it.

And, sweet children, for love of whom I write, I beseech you, with very loving heart, that you set your delight upon knowing this book; and may Almighty God that suffered bitter pains, make you so expert in courtesy that through your nurture and your governance you may advance yourselves to lasting bliss.

THE A B C OF ARISTOTLE

WHOSO wills to be wise and worship desires, Learn he one letter and look on another, Of the A B C of Aristotle. Argue not against that. It is counsel for right many clerks and knights a thousand, And eke it might amend a man, full oft, For to learn lore of one letter, and his life save; For too much of any thing was never wholesome. Read oft on this roll, and rule thee thereafter. Whoso be grieved in his ghost, govern him better; Blame he not the bairn that this A B C made, But wite[22] he his wicked will and his work after. It shall never grieve a good man, though the guilty be mended, Now hearken and hear how I begin.

Be not— A too Amorous, too Adventurous, nor Argue too much. B too Bold, too Busy, nor Babble[23] too long. C too Courteous, too Cruel, nor Care too sorely. D too Dull, too Dreading,[24] nor Drink too oft. E too Elenge,[25] too Excellent,[26] nor too Earnest neither. F too Fierce, too Familiar, but Friendly of cheer. G too Glad, too (vain-)Glorious, and Gelousy[27] thou hate. H too Hasty, too Hare-brained, nor too Heavy in thy Heart. J too Jetting,[28] too Jangling,[29] nor Jape[30] not too oft. K too Kind, too Keeping, and beware of Knaves’ tricks. L too Loth, too Loving, nor too Liberal of goods. M too Meddling, too Merry, but as Measure asketh. N too (an-)Noying, too Nice,[31] nor too New-fangled either. O too Overbold, too Overthwart,[32] and hate thou Oaths. P too Praising, too Privy[33] with Princes or dukes. Q too Quaint, too Querulous, and Queme[34] thy master. R too Riotous, too Revelling, nor Rage too Rudely. S too Strange, too Stirring, nor Stare too strangely. T too Toiling, too Tale-bearing, for Temperance is best. V too Vengeful, too Envious, and (a-)Void all Villainy. W too Wild, too Wrathful, nor Waste, nor Wade too deep. For a Measurable Mean is best for us all. Learn this or go Lacking.[35]

URBANITATIS[36]

WHOSO will of nurture know, Hark to me and I will show. When you come before a lord, In hall, in bower, or at board, You must doff or cap or hood, Ere before him you have stood. Twice or thrice beyond a doubt, Before your sovereign must you lout[37]; On the right knee bend you low; For your own sake do ye so. Hold your cap, forbear to don, Till you’re told to put it on. All the while you speak with him, Fair and lovely hold up your chin. As bids the nurture of the book, In his face straight shall you look. Keep your hands still and your feet; To claw or trip it is not meet.[38]

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When into the hall you wend, Among the gentles, good and hend[39] Press not up high for any thing, For noble blood or wit cunning. Neither sit ye, neither lean, For this is neither good nor clean. Let not your countenance abate,[40] For good nurture will save your state. If father, mother be right naught, Happy the child that is well taught. In hall, in chamber, mind you then: Good manners always make good men.[41] Look wisely to your betters ay, Do them reverence as you may; But do ye none, sit all in row, Unless ye them for betters know. When you are set before the meat, Fair and honestly it eat. First, look ye that your hands be clean, And that your knife be sharp and keen; Then cut your bread and all your meat, Even when you set to eat. If you sit by a worthier man Than ye yourself well reckon can, Suffer him first and do not let[42] That he before you meat should get. For the best piece do not strike[43] Though you never so well it like. Also keep your hands full well, Not to ’file[44] the fair towél. Nor wipe your nose upon the cloth; To pick your teeth at meat be loth. Nor in the cup too deeply sink, Though ye have good will to drink, Lest your eyen water thereby; For then it is no courtesy. Look in your mouth there be no meat, When you begin to drink or speak. And when you see a man would drink, Who heeds your carping,[45] you bethink, And soon anon make end your tale, Whether he drink wine or ale. And look, ye scorn no man also, In what degree ye see him go. No man shall ye reprove or chide, If ye in worship[46] would abide. For words ye might speak out apace— Should make you live in evil case. Close your hand upon your fist,[47] And keep you well from “Had I wist[48]—” In chamber among the ladies bright, Keep your tongue and spend your sight. Laugh not too loud with great outcry; Neither rage with ribaldry. Play with none but with your peer, And tell not all the tales you hear. Discover[49] not your own [good] deed, Neither for mirth, nor yet for meed.[50] Gentle of speech—ye have your will; But foul of speech—ye fare full ill. If ye follow a worthier man, Than ye yourself well reckon can, Let your right shoulder follow his back,[51] For that is nurture ye must not lack. When he speaks, then hold you still; When he has done, say then your will. Be careful what you say or tell, And in your speech advise you well. Bereave[52] ye no man of his tale, Neither at wine nor at ale. Now may Christ of his sweet grace, Give us all both wit and space This [treatise] well to know and read, And Heaven at last to have for meed. Amen, Amen, so may it be. So say we all for charity!

_Explicit Tractus Urbanitatis._

THE LITTLE CHILDREN’S LITTLE BOOK