in his mouth: and it spites him asmuche, as if a man should take him
by the sleeve & hould him backe, even when he is redie to runne his
course. And when another man is in a tale, it is no good maner for you,
by telling the company some newes, & drawing their mindes to other
matters, to make them forsake him cleane, and leave him alone. For, it
is an uncourtious parte for you to leade and carry away the company:
which the other (not you) hath brought together.
And, when a man tells his tale, you must geve good eare unto him:
that you may not say otherwhile, O what?: Or, how?: which is many a
mans fashion to doe. And this is asmuch trouble and paine to him that
speaketh: as to shoofle against y^e stones, to him that goeth. All
these fashions, and generally, that which may stoppe, and that which
may traverse the course of another mans talke, must be shunned.
And, if a man tell his tale slowe like a drawe-latche: you must not yet
hasten him forwarde, nor lende him woordes, although you be quicker in
speache then hee. For, many doe take that ill, and specially suche, as
persuade themselves they have a Joly grace in telling a tale. For, they
doe imagine you thinke not so well of them, as they themselves doe: And
that you would geve them instructions in their owne Arte: as Merchaunts
that live in greate wealth & plentie, would count it a greate reproche
unto them, that a man should proffer them money, as if they lived
in lacke, & were poore and stoode in neede of releefe. And you must
understand, that, Every man in his owne conceite, thinkes he can tell
his tale well: althoughe for modestie sake he deny it. And I cannot
gesse how it cometh to passe, that the veriest foole doth babble most:
which over muche prattle, I would not have a gentleman to use, and
specially, if his skill be but scant in the matter in talke: Not onely,
bycause it is a hard matter: but, He must run in many faults that
talkes muche: but also, bycause a man weenes, that, He that talkes all
the talke to him selfe, woulde (after a sorte) preferre him self above
them all that heare him, as a Maister would be above his scholers. And
therfore, It is no good maner for a man to take uppon him a greater
state, then doth become him. And in this fault, not men alone, but many
countries fall into, so cackling and prattling: that, woe be their
eares that geve them hearing.
But, as over muche babble makes a man weary: so doth over muche Silence
procure as greate disliking. For, To use silence in place where other
men talke to and fro: is in maner, asmuche a fault, as not to pay your
share and scot as other men doe. And as speache is a meane to shewe men
your minde, to whome you speake: so, doth Silence againe make men wene,
you seke to be unknowne. So y^t, as those people which use to drinke
muche at feastes, and make them selves drunke, are wont to thrust them
out of their companie, that will not take their drinke as they doe: So
be these kinde of mute & still fellowes, coldly welcome to pleasaunt
and mery companie, that meete to passe the time away in pleasure and
talke. So that, It is good maner for a man to speake, and likewise to
hold his peace, as it comes to his turne, and occasion requires.
As an old Chronicle maketh mention. There was in the parts of Morea,
a very good workman in stone: Who for y^e singular good skill he
had in his Art, was called (as I take it) Maestro Chiarissimo. This
man (now well strooken in yeares) made a certaine treatise, & therin
gathered together al y^e precepts & rules of his arte: as the man y^t
had very good skill to doe it: shewing in what sorte the proportions
and lineaments of the body, should be duely measured, as well everyone
a parte by it selfe, as one respecting another: y^t they might justly
& duely be answerable y^e one to the other: which treatise of his, he
named Regolo. Meaning to shewe, that according to that, all the Images
and pictures, that from thensforth any workeman should make, should be
squared & lined forth: as y^e beames, and y^e stones, and the walles,
are measured by y^e rules & precepts of that booke. But, for that it
is a muche easier matter to speake it, then to worke it, or doe it:
and besides that, The greatest number of men, especially of us that
be prophane and not learned, have our senses much quicker then our
understanding, and consequently, better conceive particular things and
Examples, then the generall propositions and Syllogismes (which I might
terme in plainer speache, Reasons) for this cause this worthy man I
speake of, having regard to the Nature of workemen: whose capacities
are unfit and unable to weeld the weighte of generall Precepts and
rules: and to declare more plainely, with all his cunning and skill:
having found out for his purpose, a fine marble stone, with muche
labour and paine, he fashioned and shaped an Image of it, as perfectly
proportioned in every parte and member: as the precepts and rules of
his treatise had before devised. And as he named the booke, so did he
name that Image, and called it by name of Regolo.
Now, (and it pleased god) I would I could but one parte of those twoe
points, which that noble Ingraver & worckeman I speake of, had perfect
skill and knowledge to doe: I meane, that I could gather together in
this treatise, after a sorte, the due measures of this Art I take
uppon me to treate of. For, to perfourme the other, to make the second
Regolo: I meane, to use and observe in my maners, the measures I speake
of, framing and forming, as it were, A Visible Example, and a material
Image of them: it were now, to muche for me to doe. For asmuch as, It
is not inough to have knowledge and Art, in matters concerning maners
& fashions of men: But it is needefull withall, to worke them to a
perfect effect, to practise and use them muche: which cannot be had
uppon the soudaine, nor learned by & by: but it is number of yeares
that must winne it: & y^e beste parte of mine be runne fourth alredy,
you see.
But for all this, you must not make y^e lesse reconing of these
precepts. For, A man may well teache another the way: although he have
gone out of the way himself. And, peradventure, they that have lost
their wayes, do better remember the hard wayes to find: then they that
never went a misse. And, if in mine infancie, when minds be tender and
pliable, like a young twigge, they that had y^e charge & governement
of me, had had the skill to smoothe my manners, (perhaps of Nature
somwhat hard and rude) and would have polished and wrought them fine:
peradventure I should have beene such A one, as I travaile to make thee
Nowe, whome I love no lesse then if thou were my sonne. For albeit,
the power of Nature be greate: yet is she many times Maistered and
corrected by custome: But, we must in time begin to encounter and beate
her downe, before she get to muche strength and hardines. But most men
will not doe so: but rather yealding to their appetite without any
striving, following it where so ever it leades them, thinke they must
submitte themselves to Nature: As though Reason were not a naturall
thing in man. But, Reason hath (as a Lady and Mistris) power to chaunge
olde customes, and to helpe & hold up Nature, when she doth at any time
decay and fall. But very seldome we harken unto her. And y^t for y^e
moste parte, maketh us like unto them whome god hath not endued w^t
Reason: I mean brute beastes, in whome notwithstanding, something yet
worketh: not their owne Reasons (for they have none of them selves) but
ours: as in horses you see it: which by nature would be ever wilde,
but y^t their rider makes them tame, and withal, after a sorte, redy
& very well paced. For many of them would have a hard trot, but that
the rider makes them have an easier pace. And some he doth teache to
stand still, to galopp, to treade the ringe, and passe the carreere:
And they learne to doe it all well you see. Then, if the horse, the
dog, y^e hauke, & many other beastes besides, more wilde then these,
be guided and ruled by Reason, and learne that which their owne Nature
cannot attaine, but rather repugneth: and become after a sorte cunning
and skilfull, so farre as their kinde doth beare it, not by Nature,
but by custome & use: how muche then may we thinke wee should excell
them, by the precepts and rules of our Reason, if wee tooke any heede
unto it. But, The Senses desire & covet present delightes, what soever
they be: and can abide no paines, but puts them of. And by this meanes,
they also shake of Reason, and thinke her unpleasant, forasmuche as
she sets before them, not pleasure, many times, hurtfull: but goodnes
and vertue, ever painfull, sower and unsavoury in taste. For, while
we live according to the Sense, wee are like to the selly sickman,
to whom al cates never so deinty & sweete, seeme untoothsome: and he
chideth still with his Cater and Cooke, in whome there is no fault at
all for it. For, it is the Nature of his disease, and the Extremitie
of his sicknes, and not the fault of his meate, that he doth not
savourly taste what he eates. So Reason, which of it selfe is sweete
and savourie: seemes bitter in taste unto us, though it have no ill
taste in dede. And therfore as nice & deintie felowes, we refuse to
make any taste of her: & cover our grosnes, w^t saying that Nature
hath no spurres nor raines y^t can prick her forth, or hold her backe.
Where sure, if an Oxe or an Asse, or a Hogge, could speake: I beleeve,
they could not lightly tell a more fowle & shamefull tale then this.
We should be children still all the time of our riper yeares, & in our
extreame age: and waxe as very fooles with gray hoary heads, as when
we were very babes: if it were not that reason, which increaseth in us
with our yeares, subdueth affections in us and growen to perfection,
transformeth us from beastes in to men. So that it is well seene,
shee ruleth our senses and bridleth our willes. And it is our owne
Imperfection and not her faulte, if we doe swarve from vertue, goodnes,
and good order in life.
It is not then true, that there is not a bridell and Master for Nature,
Nay, she is guided and ruled by twaine: Custome I meane, and Reason.
But, as I have tould you a litle before: Reason without Custome and
use, cannot make an uncivile bodie, well taught and courtious: Which
custome and use, is as it were, bred and borne of time. And therefore
they shall doe well, to harken betime unto her, not only for that, by
this meanes, a man shall have more time and leasure to learne to be
such as she teacheth, and to become as it were a houshould servaunt
of hers, and one of her traine: but also bycause The tender age, as
pure and cleane, doth easily receave all Impressions, and reteineth
more lively, the colours wherewith she is dyed: then when a man comes
to riper yeares: And also, bycause The things wherein wee have byn
nourished and trained from our youth, doe ordinarily please us, above
all other things. And for this cause, it is said that Diodato, a man
that had a singular good gift & grace of utterance, would evermore
bee the first that came fourth uppon the stage to shewe his Comedie:
allthoughe they were all but counterfets unto him, whosoever they
were that should have spoken before him. But he would not his voice
should occupie other mens eares, after they heard another man speake.
Although, in respect of his doings, it were a greate deale Inferiour to
his. Seing then, I cannot agree my workes and my wordes together, for
those causes I have shewed you before, as Maestro Chiarissimo did: whoe
had as good a skil to do it, as he had knowledge to teache it: let it
suffice that I have tould in some part what must be done, by cause I am
not by any meanes able to doe it in dede. He that liveth in darkenes,
may very well Judge what comfort it is to enjoy the benefit of light.
And by an over long silence, we knowe what pleasure it is to speake: so
when you beholde my grose and rude maners: you shall better Judge, what
goodnes and vertue there is in courtious behaviours and fashions.
To come againe then to this treatise, which growes now to some end: wee
say that Those be good maners and fashions, which bring a delight, or
at least, offend not their senses, their minds, and conceits, with whom
we live. And of these, wee have hitherto spoken inoughe.
But you must understand with all this, that, Men be very desirous of
bewtifull things, well proportioned and comely. And of counterfet
things fowle and ill shapen, they be as squemish againe, on the
other side. And this is a speciall privilege geven to us: that other
creatures have no capacitie, to skill what bewtie or measure meaneth.
And, therefore, as things not common w^t beastes but proper to our
selves: we must embrace them for them selves: and holde them dere: &
yet those, much more, y^t drawe nerest to y^e knowledge of man: as
which are most apt and inclined to understand the perfection which
Nature hath lefte in men.
And albeit, it be a hard matter, to shewe precisely, Bewtie, what
maner of thing it is: yet y^t you may have some marke, to know her by:
you must understand, y^t Where jointly & severally, every parte & the
whole hath his due proportion and measure, there is Bewtie. And that
thing may justly be called faier, in which the saide proportion and
measure is found. And by that I did once learne of a wise & a learned
man: Bewtie he said, would consist but of one, at the moste. And
Deformitie contrarywise, measured her selfe, by Many. As you may see by
the faces of faier and goodly women. For, the even lineaments and due
proportions of every of them: seeme to have byn created & framed by the
judgement and sight of one face alone. Which cannot be thought in them
that be foule & deformed. For, when you beholde a woman, that hath,
peradventure, bigge and bowle eyes, a little nose, blubbe cheekes, a
flat mouth, an out chinne, & a browne skinne: you thinke straite that
that face is not one womans alone: but is moulded of many faces, and
made of many peeces. And yet, you shall finde amongest them, some such,
whose partes considered alone by them selves, be very perfect to see
to: but all set together, be foule and ill favoured: not for any other
cause, but that they be y^e lineaments of many faier women, and not of
one: So that a man would weene, shee had borrowed her partes, of this
and that woman. And it may be, that Painter that had all the faier
maides of Calabria, naked before him: had none other intent therein,
then to judge & discerne in many, y^e partes y^t they have, as it were,
borrowed heere one, & there another, of one, alone: to whome restoring
from eache y^t was her right: imagining y^t Venus bewty should be such,
and so proportioned: he set him selfe to paint her.
And, you must not think, y^t this is to be seene in the faces, the
partes, and the bodies of women alone: but it happeneth more or lesse,
in speache, in gestures & doings. For, if you should chaunce to see
a Noble woman gorgius and gallant, washing of cloutes in a River by
y^e highe waye side: Althoughe if this were not, you might hapely
passe away by her, w^t little heede to her person or state: yet this
would not brook you nor like you, y^t her servile doings doe shewe her
more then one. For her state should answer her honourable condition
and calling. But her woorke is suche, as is meete for women of base
and servile life: & although you shall feele, neither ill savour nor
sent come from her, nor heare any noise that should offend you, nor
any thing els to trouble your minde: yet the foule and filthy maner
of doing it, and the unseemely act itselfe: will make you muche to
loathe it. You must then beware of these fowle and uncomely behaviours,
asmuche, nay, more then of those other, I have spoken all this while.
For, it is a harder matter a greate deale, to knowe when a man faulteth
in these, then when he faulteth in them. Bycause, It is easier much, we
see, to feele then to understande. But yet, it may chaunce otherwhile,
that even that which offendeth the senses, may also offend the minde:
thoughe not altogether after one sorte, as I have told you before:
shewing you that A man must apparell him selfe, according to the
fashions that other men use: that it may not be thought he doth reprove
and correct their doings: The which thing offendeth most men that seeke
to be commended: And the wisest men that be, mislike it too. For, the
garments of the olde world, have lost their date, for men of this age
and this season to weare. And it is suche an ill shapen sight, to see a
man clad with other mens cloathes: that a man would weene there would
be a fray betwene the doublet & y^e hose: their cloathes doe sit, uppon
them so untowardly.
So that, many of those matters I have spoken of allredy, or
peradventure all, might be aptly rehersed here again: forasmuch as this
measure I speake of here, is not observed in these things: nor the
time, nor y^e place, nor the worke, nor the worker, accorded & fitted
together, so well as it should be. For mens minds and fansies doe like
it, & take a pleasure and delight in those things. But I thought it
good to apply & speake these matters, rather under y^e badge, as it
were, of the Senses and desires: then properly assigne them to the
minde: that a man may the more easily perceive them: bycause It is a
naturall thinge, for everie man to feele and desire: but every man
cannot so generally understand, and especially that, whiche we call
bewtie, gallantnes or entertainement.
It is not inoughe for a man, to doe things that be good: but hee must
also have a care, hee doe them with a good grace. And a good grace
is nothing els, but suche a maner of light (as I may call it) as
shineth in the aptnes of things set in good order and wel disposed,
one with another: and perfectly knit and united together. Without
which proportion and measure, even that which is good is not faire: &
the fairenes it self, is not plesaunt. And as meates, though they be
good & savourie will give men no minde to eate them, if they have no
pleasaunt relish and taste: So fares it with the maners of men other
while (althoughe in them selves in no respect they be ill, but foolishe
a little, and fond) if a man doe not season them with a certaine
sweetenes, which you call (as I take it) Grace, and Comlines.
So that, every vice of it selfe, without any further matter to helpe it
(it cannot be chosen) must needes offend a man. For, Vices be things so
foule and filthie: that honest and modest mindes, will greeve to see
their shamefull effects. And therefore, it shall behove them that seeke
to be well thought of, with their familiar acquaintance, above all
things els to eschewe vices, and especially those, that be foulest and
worst: as Leachery, Covetousnes, Crueltie, and other. Of which, some
be beastly, as Drunkennes, and Gluttonie: some uncleane, as Leacherie:
other some horrible, as Murther, and such other: all which for them
selves, and for the very naughtines, that is properly in them al, all
men eschewe more, or lesse: But, as earst I said, generally al, as
things of greate disorder, make a man misliked muche of all men.
But, bycause I have not taken uppon me to shew unto you, mens sinnes,
but their Errors: it shalbe no parte of my charge at this time to
entreate of y^e Nature of vices & vertues: but onely of the seemely
& unseemely fashions and maners wee use one with another. One of the
which unseemely fashions was, that Count Richard did use: of which I
tould you before. Which, as unseemely and unfitting with those other
his good and faire maners hee had besides: that same worthie Bishop (as
a skilfull and cunning Maister in musicke will easily here a note out
of Tune) had quickly founde out.
It shalbe then, necessarie for gentlemen and men of good behaviour,
to have a regard to this measure I speake of: in going, in standing,
in sitting, in gesture, in porte, in apparell, in talke, in silence,
in rest and in action. For, a man must not apparell him selfe like
a woman: that the Attire may not be of one sorte, and the person of
another: as I doe see it in some that weare their heads & their beards
curled with bodkins, and have their face, and their necks, & their
hands, so starchte and painted, that it were to muche for a girle, nay,
harlot, that makes a merchandize of it, and sets her selfe to the sale.
You must smell, neither of sweete nor of sower: for a gentleman would
not savour nastily like a begger: nè del maschio venga odore di femina
o di meretrice. I doe not by this forbid, but you may very well use
some sweete smelles of sweete waters.
Your apparell must be shaped according to the fashion of the time, and
your calling, for the causes I have shewed you before. For, We must not
take uppon us to alter customes at our will. For time doth beget them,
and time doth also weare them out.
Every man may applie those fashions, that be in common use, y^e moste
to his owne advantage that he can. For, if perchaunce your legges be
very long, and men use but short garments: you may use a meane, not
to long, nor to short. And if your legges be to small, to greate, or
crooked: make not your hosen of to light and garishe a colour, that
it may not call men to looke and to gawre uppon your deformitie. Thou
must weare no garment that shall be to light, or overmuche daubde with
garding; that men may not say, thou hast Ganymedes hosen, or wearest
Cupides doublet. But, whatsoever it be thou wearest, let it be fit and
well made for thy bodie: least thou seme to brave it, in another mans
cloathes.
But with all, thou must in any case respect thy condition or estate.
For, A man of the Clergie, must not be attired like a Souldier:
nor a Souldier goe like a Player. When Castruccio was in Rome with
Lodovico Bavero at a greate Pompe, and triumphe: who was both Duke of
Lucca and Pistoia, and Count of Palazzo, and Senatour of Rome: this
Castruccio, being Lorde greate Maister of the saide Lodovico Bavero his
househoulde: for his bravery, made him a coate of crimsin, uppon the
brest wherof, there was this devise, in letters of Golde
It is even as God will.
And uppon the backe behinde.
And it shallbe as God will.
I beleeve, you thinke this garment, would have become Castruccio his
Trumpeter better, then it could become him.
And although Kings be free from checke, and may doe what they list:
Yet, I could never commend King Manfrede, Whoe ever more used, to suite
him selfe in greene. Wee must then have a care, that our apparell be
not onely wel made for the bodie: but that it be meete for our calling.
And withall, it be suche, as the countrie doth use, where wee live.
For, As in divers places be divers measures, and yet bying and selling
every where used: So in sundry landes be sundrie customes, and yet
every where a man may behave him, and apparell him selfe, soberly and
comely.
These same feathers, which the Neapolitanes and Spaniardes be wont to
weare, and braveries and Embroderies: have but ill place amongest grave
gowned men, & the attires that Citizens doe weare. But their Armour and
weapons become suche place a greate deal worse. So that, looke what
hapely might be allowed in Verona, would not, perchaunce, be suffered
in Venice. For as muche as these gallants, all begarded, and huffing
in fethers, & warlike fellowes, would not doe well, in this Noble
Citie so peacefull & Civil. Suche kinde of people be rather, in maner,
like nettles and burres, amongest good and sweete garden flowers,
And therefore, they come out of season to men that medle with graver
matters then they doe.
I would not have a gentleman to runne in the streate, nor go to fast:
for that is for lackies, and not for gentlemen to doe. Besides that, it
makes a man weary, sweate, and puffe: which be very unsightly things
for suche men to doe. I would not yet have a man go so softe and
demurely, as a maide or a wife. And when a man walkes, it is no good
sight to see a man shake his bodie to muche, nor to hold his handes
bare and emptie: nor yet cast & fling his armes up & downe, in such
sort as a man would weene, hee were soweing of Corne in the field: nor
Stare in a mans face, as if he had spied a mares nest.