,transcriber's ,notes3 ,in this text1 a 
caret character indicates that the      
following letter is superscripted in the
 original4 ,other notes follow  the     
text4                                   
,,the ,,humanist',s ,,library           
,edited by ,lewis ,einstein             
,,viii                                  
,,galateo                               
,,of ,,manners ,,and                    
,,behaviours                            
,a                                      
,,renaissance                           
,,courtesy-,,book                       
,,galateo                         ,,of  
,,manners  ,,behaviours                 
,,by                                    
,,giovanni ,,della ,,casa               
,with an ,introduction by               
,j4 ,e4 ,,spingarn                      
,,grant ,,richards ,,ltd4               
,,london                                
,copyright1 #aiad1 by ,d4 ,b4 ,updike   
,a ,,table ,,of ,,contents              
,introduction                           

ix         ,the ,dedication             
#c         ,commendatory ,verses        
#f         ,the ,treatise of ,master    
,jhon ,della ,casa          #ac         
,bibliographical ,note                  
#aba          ,,introduction      ,one  
day1 in ,rome1 about the middle of the  
sixteenth century1 the ,bishop  of      
,sessa suggested to the ,archbishop of  
,benevento that he write a  treatise on 
good manners4 ,many books had touched   
the subject on one  or more of its      
sides1 but no single book had attempted 
to formulate  the whole code of refined 
conduct for their time and indeed for   
all  time4 ,and who could deal with the 
subject more exquisitely than the       
,archbishop of ,benevento8 ,as a scion  
of two distinguished ,florentine        
families 7his mother was a ,tornabuoni71
 as an eminent prelate and  diplomatist1
 an accomplished poet and orator1 a     
master of ,tuscan prose1  a frequenter  
of all the fashionable circles of his   
day1 the author  of licentious capitoli1

 and more especially as one whose morals
 were  distinctly not above reproach1 he
 seemed eminently fitted for the  office
 of arbiter elegantiarum4    ,so it was 
that some years later1 in disfavour with
 the new ,pope1 and  in the retirement  
of his town house in ,venice and his    
villa in the  ,marca ,trivigiana1 with a
 gallant company of gentlemen and ladies
 to  share his enforced but charming    
leisure1 the ,archbishop composed the   
little book that had been suggested by  
the ,bishop of ,sessa1 and that1  as a  
compliment to its only begetter1 bears  
as a title his poetic or  academic name4
    ,there have been modern scholars who
 have wondered that so eminent a        
prelate1 and so austere and passionate a
 lyric poet 7for the licentious         
capitoli were best forgotten71 should   
have thought it worthy of his  pains to 
formulate so many rules of simple       
decency1 descending even  to such       
trifles as the use of the napkin1 the   
avoidance of immodest  topics1 and the  

details of personal apparel4 ,it might1 
however1 be  pointed out that it is just
 because such distinguished men as our  
,archbishop formulated these details for
 us in the ,renaissance that they  have 
become part and parcel of our social    
code2 that to quarrel with  the         
,archbishop on this score were not      
unlike quarrelling with ,euclid  because
 he formulated laws of geometry which   
mathematicians nowadays  leave to       
schoolboys2 and that the serious        
preoccupation with manners1             
characteristic of the ,middle ,ages and 
the ,renaissance1 made it possible  for 
modern ,european society to form an     
organic social whole1 with a  model of  
the finished gentleman1 more or less the
 same in all countries  and all periods4
    ,but the fact is that it is the     
didactic form and tone1 and not the     
content1 of the ,archbishop's treatise  
with which our modern taste has  its    
quarrel4 ,if books on etiquette are no  
longer in fashion1 it is not  because   

preoccupation with the details of social
 conduct has ceased1  but because we no 
longer express it in the form of rules  
or codes4 ,our  plays1 our novels1 our  
essays1 are mosaics of reflections on   
the very  things that interested the    
courts and coteries of the ,renaissance4
 ,when  a modern writer wishes to       
enforce the idea that such apparent     
trifles  are of real concern1 he no     
longer says3 ,it is important that every
  young man should pay careful heed to  
the little tricks of manners1  but he   
puts into the mouth of one of his       
characters1 as ,mr4 ,galsworthy  does1  
such a speech as this3 ,for people      
brought up as we are1 to have  different
 manners is worse than to have different
 souls4444 ,how are you  going to stand 
it2 with a woman who----8 ,it's the     
little things4 ,the  ,archbishop of     
,benevento1 if permitted to read        
passages like this in  modern plays and 
essays1 would recognize his own ideas in
 all of them2  he could point to        

dialogues and discourses of his own time
 in which  dogmatic precepts were in    
like manner disguised as witty and      
elegant  conversation2 but because he   
was the product of an age of formal     
treatises1 exquisitely written1 he would
 have insisted on his right to  state   
precepts as precepts1 and to sum them up
 in such a rounded code  as he has given
 us in the ,galateo4    ,the ,galateo1  
then1 is a summary of the refined       
manners of the later  ,renaissance4 ,for
 centuries such books had been written1 
but out of  them1 and from the practices
 of his own age1 ,della ,casa attempted 
to  select the essential details1 and to
 develop1 for the first time1 a  norm of
 social conduct1--in a book1 above all1 
that should be a work  of art1 and      
should conform to all the graces and    
elegancies of ,tuscan  speech4 ,the     
details are subordinated to a philosophy
 of manners1 which  is lightly sketched1
 on the assumption that subtle reasoning
 would  be unintelligible to the        

youthful auditor to whom the precepts   
are  theoretically addressed1 but which 
has an importance of its own1 as        
characteristic of the attitude of a     
whole epoch4 ,when ,della ,casa calls   
good manners a virtue1 or something     
closely akin to virtue1 he is  making a 
mere concession to the ideals of his    
day4 ,the moralists of the  later       
,renaissance1 or ,catholic ,reaction1   
felt it necessary to defend  every      
social practice on the ground of its    
real or imaginary relation  to virtue1  
as the only thing which can ever justify
 anything to a  moralist4 ,so the       
sixteenth century theorists of honour   
called honour  a form of virtue2 those  
who argued about the nature of true     
nobility  made it to consist of virtue  
7a theory1 indeed1 as old as ,menander  
and  ,juvenal72 just as the moralists of
 the ,middle ,ages had justified love   
by calling it a virtue1 too4    ,for    
,della ,casa1 however1 the real         
foundation of good manners is to be     

found in the desire to please4 ,this    
desire is the aim or end of all         
manners1 teaching us alike to follow    
what pleases others and to avoid  what  
displeases them4 ,this is a far cry from
 virtue1 which in its  very essence     
would seem to be divorced from the idea 
of conciliating  the moods or whims of  
those about us2 unless we assume that   
perhaps  the slight personal sacrifice  
involved in yielding to such whims was  
the only form of virtue which a         
fashionable prelate might care to       
recognize4 ,in order to give pleasure1  
we are told1 it is essential to  pay    
heed to the way a thing is done as well 
as to what is done2 it is  not enough to
 do a good deed1 but it must be done    
with a good grace4  ,that is to say1    
good manners are concerned with the form
 which actions  take1 as morals are     
concerned with their content2 and from  
the social  standpoint1 the manner as   
well as the content of an act must be   
passed  upon in any judgement of it4    

,and1 finally1 if the desire to please  
is  the aim of good manners1 the guide1 
or test1 or norm is common usage or     
custom1 which no less than reason       
furnishes the laws of courtesy1 and     
which in a sense may be said to be the  
equivalent in manners of what  duty is  
in morals4    ,it will be seen that     
,della ,casa does not concern himself   
with that  conception of manners which  
relates it to a sense of personal       
dignity1  and which is summed up in     
,locke's dictum that the foundation of  
good  breeding is not to think meanly of
 ourselves and not to think meanly  of  
others4 ,this side of the social ideal  
was summed up for the later             
,renaissance in the term honour1 which  
formed the theme of many  separate      
treatises in the sixteenth century4 ,the
 ,galateo deals solely  with those      
little concessions to the tastes and    
whims of those around  us which are     
necessitated by the fact that cultivated
 gentlemen are not  hermits1 and must   

consider the customs and habits of      
others if they  wish to form part of a  
smoothly organized and polished society4
 ,we  may prefer to call this           
considerateness for the feelings of     
others1  but1 essentially1 most         
justifications of good manners depend on
 the  same idea of conciliating the     
accidental and immediate circle in      
which we happen to move1 at the expense 
of wider interests or larger  groups2   
and both considerateness and the desire 
to please fail as  justifications1 or at
 least as incitements1 as soon as the   
idea of  success within a definite      
circle is eliminated or submerged4      
,it is unnecessary1 however1 to break so
 fragile a butterfly as ,della  ,casa's 
philosophy on any wheel of serious      
argument4 ,he is interested  solely in  
the superficial aspects of life1 and an 
intricate or  consistent philosophy     
would have served no other purpose than 
to  alienate or confuse minds concerned1
 like his own1 solely with life on  its 

superficial side4 ,on the basis of such 
ideas1--to please others2  to win their 
good graces and one's own ultimate      
success2 to be sweetly  reasonable in   
conforming to custom2 to perform every  
act with an eye  to its effect on those 
about us1--on the basis of ideas as     
elementary  yet appealing as these1 he  
formulates in detail the precepts of    
conduct  for daily human intercourse in 
a refined society4    ,in the first     
place1 there are the things that are to 
be avoided because  they offend the     
senses4 ,coughing1 sneezing1 or yawning 
in someone's  face1 greediness or       
carelessness in eating1 and various     
sides of our  physical life fall within 
this category4 ,we are not only to avoid
  indiscretion in such matters1 but we  
are to refrain from mentioning in       
conversation whatever might be          
indelicate as a physical act4 ,in the   
second place1 there are other           
indiscretions that have no such basis in
  the mere senses1 and refer solely to  

the mental attitude or to the mere      
personal pride of our neighbours4 ,to   
read a letter or to fall asleep  in     
company1 to turn your back to your      
neighbour1 to be careless about  one's  
way of standing or sitting1 to be       
absent-minded or touchy about  trifles1 
are social sins of this second kind4    
,the art of conversation  was the       
mainstay of social life in the ,italian 
,renaissance1 and to it  ,della ,casa   
naturally1 at this point1 devotes most  
of his attention4 ,to  be obscene1 or   
blasphemous1 or too subtle2 to dwell on 
inappropriate  things 7as when repeating
 a friar's sermon to a young lady72 to  
brag or  lie2 to be too ceremonious or  
too servile2 to tell a story awkwardly  
or  to mention indelicate matters       
without some polite periphrasis2--these 
are some of the chief sins against this 
art of arts4 ,there is very much  that  
is modern in the diatribe against the   
ceremoniousness that was  then creeping 
into ,italy from ,spain1 for sixteenth  

century ,venice was  not unlike         
nineteenth century ,england in its      
preference for ease and  simplicity1 and
 a grave and reasonable charm of manner4
 ,finally1 there  are the details of    
individual conduct dictated essentially 
by custom1  without apparent regard to  
the physical comfort or personal pride  
of  those about us2 and under this third
 heading1 ,della ,casa summarizes the   
various problems of personal apparel1   
table manners1 and the like4    ,della  
,casa invents no new laws for conduct1  
deduces no new theories  of courtesy or 
manners2 even the details are to be     
found in many of  his mediaeval and     
,renaissance predecessors4 ,what he     
adds1 in precept  or dictum or anecdote1
 is the fruit both of his own social    
experience  and of his classical        
studies4 ,his book is1 like             
,castiglione's  ,cortegiano and         
,sannazzaro's ,arcadia1 almost a mosaic 
of ,greek  and ,latin borrowings4       
,aristotle's ,nicomachean ,ethics1      

,plutarch's  moral treatises1 the       
,characters of ,theophrastus1 and the   
moral and  rhetorical works of ,cicero  
are the chief sources1 although none of 
these books is devoted solely1 like his1
 to the superficial conduct  of men     
among their equals and superiors4 ,but  
even to these he adds  something that   
was born out of those refinements of    
life which in  ,renaissance ,italy had  
been developed more highly than         
elsewhere1 and  had made the fashions of
 ,urbino1 ,mantua1 and ,ferrara the     
models of  all courts and coteries1     
wherever the ,renaissance gained a      
foothold  beyond the ,alps4 ,in the     
courts and cities of ,italy1 combining  
alike the  atmosphere of the mediaeval  
court and the ancient city1--combining1 
that is to say1 courtoisie and civilitas
 7urbanitas71--the modern  gentleman1 as
 distinguished from his classical or    
romantic forbears1  may be said to have 
been born4    ,courtesy1 as its very    
name indicates1 is the flowering of that

 spirit  which first shone in the little
 courts of mediaeval ,provence and      
,france1 but which did not1 perhaps1    
find its most complete expression1  as a
 philosophy of life1 until ,castiglione 
wrote the ,cortegiano at  the beginning 
of the sixteenth century4 ,by that time 
the small court  was already beginning  
to give way to the larger court or the  
cultivated  coterie as the overwhelming 
centre of social influence in ,europe1  
although the glory of ,ferrara and      
,mantua and ,urbino did not wane for    
two or three generations4 ,but even     
before ,castiglione's day the more      
humane and graceful of courtly manners  
had spread beyond the confines  of      
courts2 and almost before he was dead1  
the name courtesy1 in so  far as it     
still suggested a definite locus1 no    
longer expressed the  new wide range of 
polished manners4 ,other words crept    
into cultivated  speech1 so that1 by the
 first half of the seventeenth century1 
we find  in a little ,french treatise on

 manners1 the ,loix de la ,galanterie1  
four distinct terms for man regarded    
simply as a creature of social          
manners1--courtisain1 honnte homme1     
galant1 and homme du monde4 ,the  first 
of these1 as described by ,castiglione1 
seemed to this author  ,italianate and  
obsolete1 and the second1 which had just
 furnished  the title to a treatise on  
,l',honnte ,homme1 ou l',art de ,plaire 
la  ,cour1 still retained something of  
its original moral significance1  so    
that gallant and man of the world summed
 up1 best of all1 the  social qualities 
of the life of the day4 ,it is no longer
 the court  but the monde about which   
social life centres1 not that other men 
do not belong to the world 7as this     
author navely explains71 but  because we
 are concerned solely with that great   
world which is the home  of fashion4    
,this was the age of prcieux and        
prcieuses1 and their  code was no longer
 that of the court of ,urbino1 as it    
flourished in  ,castiglione's day2 it   

was the over-refined manners of the     
academies  and coteries of ,siena and   
,ferrara during the later sixteenth     
century  that furnished all that was    
essential in ,french prciosit4 ,for the 
moment gallantry sufficed to express    
good manners2 but gradually it  too     
became obsolete1 and the ,latin term    
civility1 with its inclusion  of all    
civil society rather than any group or  
class1 superseded both  gallantry and   
courtesy4 ,courtois is scarcely any     
longer used  in cultivated conversation1
 ,callires1 a ,french wit of the end of 
the seventeenth century1 tells us1 just 
as civilit has replaced  courtoisie4    
,indeed1 the word courtoisie no longer  
finds a place  in any but elevated or   
poetic language in ,france to-day2 and  
,english  speech1 which has retained it 
after its original meaning has been     
lost1  now finds it necessary to        
distinguish between the courtly and the 
courteous1 by the former suggesting the 
content of what once1 at least  in part1

 belonged to the latter4    ,it is the  
civilitas of ancient ,rome no less than 
the civilit of  seventeenth century     
,france that is summed up in the        
,galateo4 ,as  ,castiglione expresses   
the courtly ideals of the ,middle ,ages 
and the  ,renaissance1 so ,della ,casa  
expresses the ideals of manners no      
longer  restricted to courts and        
courtiers1 but common to all cultivated 
civilians1 the manners that were to form
 the basis of the ,european  code from  
that time to this4 ,a long line of      
,italian predecessors had  prepared the 
way for its coming4 ,indeed1 every      
encyclopaedia1 every  romance of        
chivalry of the ,middle ,ages1 contains 
precepts which find  a place in its     
pages4 ,in the late thirteenth and early
 fourteenth  centuries1 ,provence and   
,italy had already begun to furnish     
books on  such subjects4 ,the ,breviari 
d',amor of ,matfre ,ermengaud includes  
instruction in social conduct2 the      
,italian1 ,bonvesin da ,riva1 had       

written a treatise on ,fifty ,courtesies
 of the ,table2 ,francesco da           
,barberino had dealt at length with ,the
 ,manners and ,behaviour of  ,women2    
still later1 ,sulpizio ,verulano had    
written a treatise on the  table manners
 of children1 which had found currency  
beyond the ,alps2  and most influential 
of all1 the great ,erasmus1 in #aebf1   
had dealt at  length with children's    
manners in his ,de ,civilitate ,morum   
,puerilium  ,libellus4 ,della ,casa     
follows tradition1 or is moved by the   
example  of ,erasmus1 to the extent of  
representing his book as the discourse  
of an old man to a young one2 but this  
is a mere subterfuge1 and  neither youth
 nor age figures in the precepts that   
follow4 ,unlike  his predecessors1 he is
 concerned not merely with children1 or 
with  women1 or with the ideals of a    
narrow class like the courtier1 or with 
the general moral life of which manners 
are only an ornament or a  garment4 ,he 
has written a book that touches on the  

essentials of good  manners as they     
affect all classes and groups which aim 
at individual  perfection1--not merely  
the young1 but the mature2 not merely   
men or  women1 but both sexes2 not      
merely the courtier1 but all cultivated 
classes4 ,in this sense1 it is the first
 of its kind4 ,it is a trifling  and    
perhaps negligible kind1 but at least   
this much distinction belongs  to the   
book4    ,the ,galateo is a product of  
the ,catholic ,reaction4 ,it is one of  
the results of the casuistry and the    
scholastic spirit which in every  field 
of intellectual activity were applied to
 the life and art that  had found       
creative expression in the age of the   
,renaissance4 ,what  the ,renaissance   
did or wrote1 the ,catholic ,reaction   
reasoned about1  codified1 and          
stereotyped4 ,the creative poetry of the
 ,renaissance was  reduced to formulae  
in the treatises on the art of poetry of
 the later  sixteenth century2 politics 
and history found reasoned expression in

  treatises on political theory and     
historical method2 and in similar       
fashion1 the social life of earlier     
,italy resulted in this age in          
treatises on the practice and theory of 
society4 ,it would be idle to  catalogue
 the various examples of this curious   
intellectual activity1  for the works of
 the sixteenth century dealing with this
 subject may  be numbered by hundreds1  
indeed by thousands4 ,there were of     
course  treatises on court life and the 
ideals of the courtier1 from the        
,cortegiano of ,castiglione to the      
discourses of ,domenichi and ,tasso2    
treatises on honour and the duel1 of    
which ,possevino's ,dell',onore  is the 
type2 treatises on the gentleman1 his   
nature1 his education1  and his         
occupations1 like ,il ,gentiluomo of    
,muzio ,justinipolitano1  the quality of
 which may be tasted in ,english in     
,peacham's ,compleat  ,gentleman2       
treatises on love and the relations of  
the sexes1 all  summed up in ,equicola's

 encyclopaedic ,libro di ,natura        
d',amore2  treatises on social          
amusements1 parlor games1 and the like1 
such as  ,scipione ,bargagli's ,i       
,trattenimenti and ,ringhieri's ,cento  
,giuochi  ,liberali e d',ingegno2       
treatises on conversation1 like         
,guazzo's ,civil  ,conversatione2 and   
finally1 a large number of treatises on 
the  education of women and children4   
,among all these the ,cortegiano1 one of
 the earliest1 stands out  preminently1 
just because it is the spontaneous      
product of the age of  which it is also 
a reasoned expression2 that is to say1  
because it is a  work of art of the     
,renaissance rather than a mere         
scholastic treatise  of the ,catholic   
,reaction4 ,it is in no sense a         
courtesy-book2 it is  concerned with    
principles of social conduct rather than
 with details  of etiquette4 ,but of all
 the mere courtesy-books1 the ,galateo  
alone  survives2 its name is current    
coin in ,italian speech to-day2 and in  

the  eighteenth century ,dr4 ,johnson   
coupled it with the ,cortegiano as two  
books yet celebrated in ,italy for      
purity and elegance4    ,a ,french      
scholar of our own day has said that for
 modern culture  antiquity means ancient
 ,greece and ,rome1 but that for modern 
manners  antiquity means mediaeval      
,france4 ,yet this is only in part true1
 and  these sixteenth century books sum 
up that combination of courtoisie  and  
civilitas which gives its special note  
to ,renaissance manners1  and which     
distinguishes such books from their     
predecessors of the  twelfth to the     
fifteenth centuries4 ,we have but to    
examine any  typical discussion of      
manners in mediaeval literature1 such as
 the  famous description of the         
exquisite table manners of the ,prioress
 in  the ,prologue to the ,canterbury   
,tales1 or the passage in the ,roman  de
 la ,rose from which ,chaucer borrowed  
his own details1 to note a              
characteristic distinction4 ,both of    

these passages are concerned with       
women2 in the ,middle ,ages it was only 
a woman who was supposed to  exhibit    
such refined delicacy in the details of 
conduct4 ,liberality1  magnanimity1     
courage1 loyalty1 chivalrousness to     
women1 and courtesy  in its larger      
sense1--these and other social virtues  
the mediaeval  man was supposed to      
possess2 but even in the courtly circles
 of  ,provence1 it may be doubted       
whether the delicacy and refinement of  
every movement which ,chaucer ascribes  
to his ,prioress would have been        
expected of the courtliest knight4      
,moderation and discretion--called      
measure or manner--were the nearest     
mediaeval approach to these             
requirements for men4 ,moderation may be
 said to be implicit in the  ideal of   
the gentleman in every age 7indeed1 it  
may be said to express  the limitations 
of the ideal1 for moderation is as often
 a vice as a  virtue72 but it was never 
more insisted on than in those ages when

  it was heeded least4 ,for the ,middle 
,ages1 measure and good manners  were   
almost synonymous terms4 ,courtesy and  
measure are the same  thing1--we are    
told in the fourteenth century ,french  
romance of  ,perceforest1--for manner   
and measure must be added to all your   
deeds  if you would have great virtue4  
,this may seem to be closely akin to    
,della ,casa's statement that polished  
behaviour consists in adding a  good    
grace to a good deed2 but to the hero of
 ,perceforest1 it would  have argued    
lack of measure1 or discretion1 for any 
man to adopt  graces and refinements so 
essentially feminine and unmanly as the 
table  manners of ,chaucer's ,prioress4 
,it was in the ,renaissance1 and in the 
courts and cities of ,italy1 that  the  
larger virtues of measure and           
magnanimity and liberality were first   
felt to be inadequate1 in men no less   
than in women and children1  without the
 minor nuances of good manners4 ,it was 
first felt there that  in such matters  

as yawning or coughing in another's     
face1 carelessness  and greediness in   
eating1 and other annoying traits1 there
 could be  only one standard for both   
sexes and for all ages4 ,if the         
mediaeval  ideal of courtoisie was based
 essentially on the relation of the     
sexes1 without regard to individual     
instinct or social agreement in  the    
wider sense1 the ,galateo1 in basing    
good manners on the desire  to please   
others1 wholly regardless of sex1       
represents a real advance1  or at least 
a widening of social interest4 ,on a    
basis of mediaeval  manners1 then1 the  
,renaissance superimposed the classical 
ideal of  urbanitas or civilitas4 ,in   
keeping with the spirit of his time1    
,della ,casa rounded all this practice  
and precept into a code2 and  because to
 codify is to stereotype1 he is in part 
responsible for the  fact that the      
pattern he formulated has scarcely been 
altered from his  day to ours4    ,there
 is one side of personal manners1       

however1 in which there has  been much  
change4 ,when ,bacon says that cleanness
 of body was ever  deemed to proceed    
from a due reverence to ,god1 he can    
hardly be said  to summarize theological
 opinion on the subject of cleanliness  
in the  preceding fifteen hundred years4
 ,the rules of ,st4 ,benedict permit    
bathing only to invalids and the very   
old1 except on rare occasions2  although
 an eighteenth century ,french          
ecclesiastic insists that the  church   
never objected to bathing1 provided one 
indulges in it because  of necessity and
 not for the sake of pleasure4 ,but our 
concern is  only with secular society1  
and there we find that cleanliness was  
considered only in so far as it was a   
social necessity1 if indeed then2  as an
 individual necessity or habit it       
scarcely appears at all4 ,della  ,casa's
 standard of social manners applies     
here1 too3 cleanliness was  dictated by 
the need of pleasing others1 and not    
because of any inner  demand of         

individual instinct4 ,but even in this  
,italy was in advance of  her           
neighbours1 if personal cleanliness     
represents social advance4 ,in  ,france1
 odorous greatness was the rule1 and    
contemporary chronicles  record the     
filthy personal habits of ,henry of     
,navarre1 the great ,cond1  and ,louis  
,,xiii4 ,the ,loix de la ,galanterie1   
nearly a century after  the ,galateo1   
advises the gallant to wash his hands   
every day--and  his face almost as      
often4 ,all this has changed4 ,personal 
cleanliness1  because of its complete   
acceptance as an individual necessity1  
has  virtually ceased to touch the      
problem of social manners at any point2 
and cultivated society simply acts from 
time to time by formulating  new        
delicacies of neatness and cleanliness1 
makes them the habit of  life1 and1     
forgetting them completely1 passes on to
 new trifles of  perfection4 ,perhaps we
 can judge this modern change without   
too great  an exaggeration of its       

importance1 if we bear in mind the      
paradox of  the modern wit1 that dirt is
 evil chiefly as evidence of sloth1 but 
the fact remains that the classes that  
wash most are those that work  least4   
,i have already pointed out that one of 
the limitations of that code of  good   
breeding which we have inherited from   
the ,renaissance and which  it is almost
 the mission of modern life to destroy1 
is that it looks  merely to the comfort 
of those around us at any accidental    
point of  time or place1 often if not   
always at the expense of other groups1  
other classes1 and wider interests4     
,those who inveigh against democracy  as
 destructive of the finer graces of life
 have hit upon what is1 for  good or    
evil1 the very essence of its           
reformative programme4 ,a modern        
idealist sums up this newer attitude    
when he says of the old code  that it   
asks us rather to let a million pine    
than hurt the feelings  of a single man4
 ,but wholly apart from this1 codes and 

rules have no  more justification in the
 art of life than in the arts of poetry 
and  painting4 ,each individual soul    
must express its past and its present1  
its inheritance and its aspiration1 in  
its own way2 and it is as futile  and   
vulgar to apply rules in the estimate of
 a life as it is in the  criticism of a 
poem or a picture4 ,children and novices
 and immature  societies may obtain     
practical guidance from the empirical   
observations  of those who have had     
experience1 but in order to create a    
real life of  their own1 a real social  
atmosphere1 they must reach the point   
where  the very rules that nurtured them
 no longer apply4 ,to disregard every   
rule of good breeding is the symbol of  
real attainment in the creative  art of 
living4    ,but this is no place to wage
 a battle for old codes or new ones4    
,the  ,galateo describes habits and     
impulses that for centuries have moved  
the souls of men1 dictated their        
conduct1 given them pleasure and pain1  

and that probably for centuries will    
continue to do so4 ,nothing that  has so
 stirred men and women1 however trifling
 it may seem1 can fail to  hold a little
 human interest for those who call      
themselves ,humanists4                  
,j4 ,e4 ,s4    ,new ,york1 ,february1   
#aiad4          ,galateo of ,maister    
,john ,della ,casa1 ,archebishop of     
,benevento4      ,or rather1 ,a         
,treatise of the ,manners and           
,behaviours1 it behoveth a  ,man to use 
and eschewe1 in his ,familiar           
,conversation4 ,a ,worke very  necessary
  profitable for all ,gentlemen1 or     
,other4    ,first written in the        
,italian ,tongue1 and now done into     
,english by  ,robert ,peterson1 of      
,lincolnes ,inne ,gentleman4 ,satis1 si 
sapienter4    ,imprinted at ,london for 
,raufe ,newbery dwelling in             
,fleetestreate litle  above the         
,conduit4 ,an4 ,do4 #aegf4              
,,the ,,dedication      ,to the ,right  
,honorable my singular good ,lord1 the  

,lord ,robert ,dudley1  ,earle of       
,leicester1 ,baron of ,denbigh1 ,knight 
of the ,honorable order of  the ,garter1
 ,maister of the ,queenes ,majesties    
,horses1 and one of her  ,highnesse     
privie ,counsell3 ,robert ,peterson     
wisheth perfect felicitie4    ,lighting 
of late 7,right ,honorable7 upon this   
treatise of courtesie1  penned by an    
experienced ,italian1  drawn for the    
profit therof1 in to  so many languages3
 ,i thought his lessons fit for our     
store1  sought to  make him speake      
,englishe4    ,wise was that ,cato1 that
 ended bothe his learning1 and living   
day  together4 ,and truly1 ,courtesie   
and ,courtiership1 be like ,hippocrates 
twinnes1 that laughe together1 and grow 
together3 and are so one  affected1 that
 who so divorceth them1 destroyeth them4
 ,but yet1 seeing  moe redie to condemne
 the least trip then commend the best   
meaning1  and knowing that the ,scarre  
sticketh thogh good desert do hele the  
wound3  perceiving that ,naevus in      

articulo pueri delectat ,alcaeum1       
,roscii oculi perversissimi catulum1    
,that is1 many dote on their fansie3  ,i
 durst not send this1 mine ,heire and   
firste fruites of my toile1 to  the view
 of the world1 without the guarde of    
your ,patronage1 wherin  there is no    
presumption to teach them that are      
perfected1 but may serve  either as     
,simonides ,characters1 to stablish     
memory1 or as an ,index1 to  point them 
to other behaviours enrolled whersoever4
 ,spread therefore 7,i  beseeche your   
honour7 the winges of wel liking over   
this worke1 which  presseth to you1 as  
not only the patrone to protect1 but the
 patterne  to expresse any courtesie    
therin conteined4 ,mine ,authour        
reporteth one  ,maestro ,chiarissimo a  
perfect ,mason1 when he had described   
the finest  precepts of his art1 to have
 made his ,regolo a piller so exactly1  
as  would beare the proofe of every     
demonstration1 thinking it learned      
speedely1 where the mind and the eye1   

precept and experience joined  hands    
together3 whose steps ,i tread 7though  
with better successe then  mine ,author1
 who could not finde a ,regolo7 hoping1 
when others shall  come to trie these   
preceptes1 not by showe or sound1 as    
fooles do  their ,golde3 but1 by your   
behaviour1 as by the touchstone3 when   
they  shal come1 not to ken aloofe1 but 
at hand1 to view your so singular       
demeanour1 so civil1 so courteous1 as   
maketh you renoumed abrode1 and  honored
 at home3 coveted of the ,noblest1      
wonderful of the learnedst3  when they  
shall in the glasse of your courtesie1  
see the blots that  blemishe the        
dignitie of their estate3 when they     
compare these lessons  with the ,regolo1
 they shal herein see no lesse          
commoditie1 then was  in ,alcibiades    
,sileni 7whereunto ,socrates was        
compared7 whiche though  they bare not1 
in the front1 any shewe of singularitie3
 yet within1  bare they pictures of     
excellent wit  delight4 ,this worke1 if 

it  please your honour to vouchsafe as a
 companion of ease to trace the  pathes1
 which you have already so well beaten1 
7which presumeth not  to be guide for   
conduction7 or if your honour daine at  
highe leasure  to peruse it 7whiche is  
not cunningly but faithfully translated7
 ,i  doubt not1 but your countenance    
will so credit the ,author1 as wil      
embolden him to presse amongst the      
thickest throng of ,courtiers3 ,and     
herewithall beseeche your honour1 to    
accept the humble and dutifull  meaning 
minde of him3 who1 not satisfied1 till  
he might by some meanes  give shewe of  
his thankefull minde1 for your honorable
 favours shewed  unto him1 hathe offered
 this small1 though as faithfull a gifte
 as  ,sinaetes did to ,cyrus3 hoping1   
that your honour will take it as well   
in worth1 as ,artaxerxes did his poore  
,persians handfull of water4 ,thus  with
 hartie prayer1 for the advauncement of 
your estate1 increase of  honor1        
attainement of perfect and perpetual    

felicitie3 ,i commend  your ,lordship1  
to the patronage and protection of the  
,almightie4 ,your  ,lordships moste     
humble to dispose and commaunde4        
,robert ,peterson                       
,,commendatory ,,verses      ,al ,signor
 ,ruberto ,peterson1 esortandolo ,a     
tradurre in ,inghilese il ,galateo      
,ben posson dirsi avventurate carte     
,quelle ch' el dotto1 e gentil ,casa    
spese3        ,quand' in breve discors' 
insegnar prese        ,del honesta      
creanza la prima arte4    ,poi che tanto
 si apprezz' in ogni parte        ,quel 
ch' ei ne scrisse1 e ch' ei si ben      
intese        ,e ch' ogn' un con manire 
pi cortese        ,dal bel trattato suo 
tosto si parte4    ,esso  ,donn' e      
donzelle1  cavallieri        ,non sol   
d',italia3 ma di ,francia1 e ,spagna    
,di gentilezza mostr' i modi veri4      
,venga per voi felice anco in ,brettagna
        ,e parli ,inglese ne ,palazzi   
alteri        ,del regn' invitto che 'l 
,tamigi bagna4                          

,francesco ,pucci        ,le creanze1 e 
i costumi1    ,tanto splendenti lumi1   
,ch'a gli huomini fan l'huom superiore1 
,eccoli tratti fore    ,de l',italico   
seno    ,e piantati ne l',anglico       
terreno4    ,or se li goda ogniun1 che  
porta amore    ,a 'l suo decoro1 e a 'l 
suo compiuto onore4                     
,alessandro ,citolini      ,edouardus   
,cradoccus1 ,s4 ,theologiae ,doctor     
,professor      ,moribus quisquis rudis 
est ineptis1    ,nescit is vitam        
placidam tueri3    ,nemini gratus1      
sociusque nulli                         
,charus habetur4      ,quisquis at      
pulchre simul  decore    ,se gerit1     
mentis studio repellens    ,rusticos    
mores1 popularis ille                   
,jure videtur4      ,hoc ,petersoni     
liber hic venustus    ,praestat1        
ostendens habitu decoro    ,possit ut   
quisque probitate splendens             
,utilis esse4      ,idque dum magno     
satagit labore1    ,italum fecit patria 
loquela    ,hunc perornatas meus hic    

amicus                                  
,fundere voces4      ,thomas ,drant1    
,archedeacon in praise of this ,booke   
,an happy turne that ,casa once did     
hatche1    ,of haviours choice this     
booke in ,ital' phrase3    ,an          
,archebishop1 and writer without matche 
,in this he was1 and peereles pight with
 praise4    ,such he his lore so well   
and wise doth lend3    ,it heare ne     
reade we can1 but must amend4      ,this
 booke by ,tiber1 and by ,po hath past1 
,through all ,italia ,townes and        
,country lands4    ,iberus1 throughe thy
 ,spanishe coasts as fast    ,it after  
yoade3 and ,gauls it held in hands1     
,throughe ,rhenus realmes it spred in   
prosperous speede1    ,to ,lordes and   
,ladies reaching comly reede4      ,it  
,peterson1 to ,britain eyes doth bring  
,translated true and trimme3 and fit to 
frame    ,faire maners fine for men4    
,this prety ,ring    ,bedecketh feate   
our life3 discourse and game    ,it     
ordereth apt with grace4 ,the booke is  

grave1    ,eke wise and good1 for civil 
folke to have4      ,to his friend      
,maister ,robert ,peterson ,gent4       
,thy ,galateo 7,peterson7 doth shrowd   
him selfe to long4    ,what8 shall it   
sleepe ,endymions yeares8 thou dost thy 
countrie wrong4    ,she hath a childs   
parte1 ,plato saies1 and with the       
,author cries1    ,that both thy toile1 
and this her gaine1 may reare his skill 
to skies4    ,what thoughe thou thinke  
thy present small1 for view of gallant  
ones    ,this litle ,diamond1 shall out 
prize1 a quarry full of stones4    ,and 
,noble ,cyrus 7,man7 will daine cold    
water in ,sinaetaes hand3    ,then fray 
not1 if thy booke1 in pure1 unfiled     
termes doe stand4    ,translatours can  
not mount3 for though1 their armes with 
wings be        spread1    ,in vaine    
they toile to take the flight1 their    
feete are clogd with        lead4       
,this faith1 that makes the ,authour1   
speake his owne in language new3        
,renoumes the more1 then if thou blazdst

 it out1 in painted hew4    ,for1       
serpents lurke in greenest grasse1 and  
with a garishe gloze1    ,the ,strumpet 
pounts in pride1 where matrones marche  
in comelie        clothes4    ,go       
publishe it1 and dreade not scowling    
,momus poisond spite4    ,and though    
,archilochus ,iambes fly1 or ,theons    
taunts doe bite3    ,thinke1 winds doe  
haunt the gallauntst trees1 and ,envy   
things of        state4    ,and         
lightning checks1 ,cerauniaes tops1     
whome no hils els do mate4    ,the best 
have borne the bob1 and ,zoiles brutes  
durst geve the charge3    ,but ,zoile   
hangs1 and ,callisthen keepes in cage   
for talking large4    ,and yet1 wordes  
they be winde3 but as erst ,plinies     
,draconite    ,no toole could pierce or 
carve3 or as the gemme ,chalazias hight1
    ,keepes cold1 though it in ,aetna   
frie1 or ,adiantons flowers    ,drawes  
not a drop1 though skies distill downe  
everlasting showers3    ,so good desert1
 doth chalenge good reporte by reasons  

rate1    ,though oft they beare the     
checkes and taunts1 they cannot take the
        mate4    ,yet seeke ,mecaenas   
wings to shroude thy toile3 ,virgilio   
,found his ,augustus3 ,ennie thou maist 
finde thy ,scipio4    ,this trump shall 
sound thy praise4 ,sir ,phoebus golden  
rayes shall        turne    ,to foggie  
mistes1 and seas that beare their ysie  
crust1 shall burne3    ,and lumpishe    
lowte1 with country shares shall salte  
,sea fome divide1    ,and sowe his      
graine in ,afrik ,syrtes that wallow    
every tide1    ,before this worke shall 
die3 which neither ,joves thundering    
threate1    ,nor fierie flames shall    
waste1 nor rustie1 cankred age shall    
freate4            ,nolo ,persium nolo  
,laelium4                               
,your friend4 ,i4 ,stoughton            
,student        ,the vine is praisde1   
that daintie grape doth give            
,although the fruite more please then   
holsome be1    ,each fertil tree1 is    
favord for the fruite1    ,so is the    

hearb that gallant is to see4      ,if  
this be trueth1 he needes must merit    
well1    ,that gives us groundes to     
guide our erring wayes1    ,and trades  
us truely in the golden maze1    ,where 
vertue growes1 and courtlike manner     
stayes4      ,galateo first did frame   
this golden booke    ,in ,ital land4    
,from thence it went to ,spaine4    ,and
 after came into the coasts of ,fraunce4
    ,and nowe at last in ,england doth  
remaine4      ,the ,authour sure        
deserveth more renoume1    ,that so     
could spend his time for our behoofe1   
,then my poore wit or cunning can       
recite1    ,as thou thy selfe by reading
 shalt finde proofe4      ,and as the   
,authour merits passing well1    ,so    
doth my friend deserve as greate a      
meede3    ,that makes a worke so hard to
 understand1    ,so easie that each     
simple may it reede4      ,i say no     
more3 for 7lo7 it were in vaine    ,to  
praise good wine by hanging up a bushe1 
,the best will give 7,i hope7 my friende

 his due4    ,as for the bad1 ,i way    
them not a rushe4                       
,thomas ,browne of ,l4 ,i4 ,gent4       
,,the ,,treatise ,,of ,,master ,,jhon   
,,della ,,casa    ,wherin under the     
person of an old unlearned man1         
instructing a youthe  of his1 he hath   
talke of the maners and fashions1 it    
behoves a man to  use or eschewe1 in his
 familiar conversation3 intituled       
,galateo1 of  fashions and maners4      
,for as muche as thou doste now enter   
the journy1 wherof ,i have allredy      
ronne forth the better parte 7as thou   
seest7 ,i meane the transitorie  waye of
 this mortall life3 ,i have determined  
7such is the ,love ,i beare  thee7 to   
shewe all the daungerous straights thou 
must passe3 ,for my  experience maketh  
me feare1 yt walking that way thou mayst
 easily  either fall1 or by some meanes 
or other go astray4 ,to the ende thou   
maist once1 taughte both by my          
instructions and experience1 be able  to
 keepe the right waye1 as well for the  

helthe of thy ,soule1 as the            
commendation and praise of the          
,honourable and ,noble house thou doest 
come of4 ,and bycause thy tender ,age1  
is unfit 7as yet7 to receave  more      
principall and higher precepts1         
reserving them for fitter time1  ,i will
 beginn to discourse of such things as  
many men will deeme1  perchaunce1 but   
trifles3 ,i meane what manner of        
,countenance and grace1  behoveth a man 
to use1 that hee may be able in         
,communication and  familiar            
acquaintance with men1 to shewe him     
selfe plesant1 courteous1  and gentle3  
which neverthelesse is either a vertue1 
or the thing that  comes very nere to   
vertue4 ,and albeit ,liberalitie1 or    
magnanimitie1 of  themselves beare a    
greater praise1 then1 to be a well      
taught or manored  man3 yet perchaunce1 
the courteous behaviour and             
entertainement with  good maners and    
words1 helpe no lesse1 him that hath    
them3 then the  high minde and courage1 

advaunceth him in whome they be4 ,for   
these  be such things as a man shall    
neede alwayes at all hands to use1      
because a man must necessarily be       
familiar with men at all times1   ever  
have talk  communication with them3 ,but
 justice1 fortitude1 and  the other     
greater1 and more noble vertues1 are    
seldome put in uze4  ,neither is ye     
liberall and noble minded man1 caused   
every hower  to doe bountifull things3  
for to use it often1 cannot any man     
beare  the charge1 by any meanes4 ,and  
these valiant men yt be so full of      
highe minde and courage3 are very       
seldome driven to trye their valour     
vertue by their deeds4 ,then as muche as
 these last1 doe passe those  first1 in 
greatnes 7as it were7  in weight3 so    
much do the other  surmount these in    
number1  often occasion to use them4    
,and1 if ,i  could wel intend it1 ,i    
could name you many1 whoe1 7being       
otherwise  of litle account7 have ben   
be still1 muche estemed  made of1 for   

their cherefull  plesaunt behaviour     
alone3 which hath bin suche  a helpe    
advauncement unto them1 that they have  
gotten greate  preferments1 leaving     
farre behinde them1 such men as have bin
 endowed  with those other noble and    
better vertues1 spoken of before4 ,and  
as  these plesaunt  gentle behaviours1  
have power to draw their harts   minds  
unto us1 with whome we live3 so         
contrariwise1 grosse and rude  maners1  
procure men to hate and despise us4     
,wherby albeit the lawes1  have injoined
 no paine for unmanerly  grose          
behaviours1 as the fault  that is       
thought but light 7 to saye a trueth1 it
 is not greate7 yet we  see             
notwithstanding1 yt nature herselfe     
punisheth them wt sharpe   shrewde      
correction1 putting them by this meanes1
 besydes ye companie   favour of men4   
,and truly even as greate  foule faults1
 doe muche  harme3 so doe these light1  
much hurt1 or hurte at least more often4
  ,for1 as men doe commonly fere ye     

beasts yt be cruell  wild1  have  no    
maner of feare of som litle ones1 as ye 
gnats and the flies1  yet  by ye        
continual noiaunce they find by them1   
complaine them selves  more of thes then
 of ye other3 so it chaunceth yt most   
men do hate  in maner asmuche1 ye       
unmanerly  untaught1 as ye wicked1      
more4  ,so yt there is no doubte1 but   
who so disposeth himselfe to live1  not 
in solitarie and deserte places1 as     
,heremites1 but in fellowship  with men1
 and in populous ,cities1 will think it 
a very necessarie  thing1 to have skill 
to put himselfe forth comely and        
seemely1 in his  fashions1 gestures and 
maners3 the lacke of which parts doth   
make those  other vertues lame1 and     
litle or nothing can they work to good  
effect1  without other helpes3 wheare   
this civilitie and courtesie1 without   
other releefe or patrimonie1 is riche of
 it selfe1  hath substance  enough1 as a
 thing yt standeth in speache and       
gestures alone4    ,and that yu mayst   

now more easily learne the way unto it1 
thou must  understand1 it behoves thee1 
to frame and order thy maners and       
doings1  not according to thine owne    
minde and fashion3 but to please those1 
with whome thou livest1 and after that  
sort direct thy doings3 ,and this  must 
be done by ,discretion and ,measure4    
,for who so applieth himself  to much1  
to feede other mens humors1 in his      
familiar conversation1  and behaviour   
with men1 is rather to be thought a     
,jester1 a ,jugler or  flatterer1 then a
 gentleman wel taught and nourtured3 ,as
 contrariwise1  whoe so hath no care or 
mind to please1 or displese1 is a rude1 
untaught1 and uncourteous fellowe4 ,for 
asmuche then1 as our maners1  have some 
pleasure in them when we respect other  
men1 and not our owne  pleasure3 if we  
diligently searche forthe what those    
things be1 that  most men do generally  
like or dislike3 we shall in suche sorte
 wisely  and easily finde out1 the      
meanes  wayes1 to choose and eschewe1   

those  fashions and maners1 we are to   
leave or take1 to live amongest men4    
,we say then1 that every act that       
offendeth any the common senses1  or    
overthwarteth a mans will and desire1 or
 els presenteth to the  ,imagination and
 conceite1 matters unpleasaunt1  that   
likewise1 which  ye minde doth abhorre1 
such things ,i say bee naught1 and must 
not be  used3 for we must not only      
refraine from such thinges as be fowle1 
filthy1 lothsome and nastie3 but we must
 not so muche as name them4 ,and  it is 
not only a fault to dooe such things1   
but against good maner1 by  any act or  
signe to put a man in minde of them4    
,and therefore1 it is an  ilfavoured    
fashion1 that some men use1 openly to   
thrust their hands in  what parte of    
their bodye they list4    ,likwise1 ,i  
like it as ill to see a ,gentleman      
settle him selfe1 to do  the needes of  
,nature1 in presence of men3 ,and after 
he hath doone1 to  trusse him selfe     
againe before them4 ,neither would ,i   

have him 7if ,i may  geve him councell7 
when he comes from suche an occupation1 
so much as  washe his hands1 in the     
sight of honest company3 for yt the     
cause of  his washing1 puts them in     
minde of some filthy matter that hath   
bene  done aparte4 ,and by the same     
reason1 it is no good maner1 when a man 
chaunceth to see1 as he passeth the waye
 7as many times it happeneth7  a        
lothesome thing1 yt wil make a man to   
cast his stomacke1 to tourne  unto the  
company1  shewe it them4 ,and much worse
 ,i like it1 to reache  some stinking   
thing unto a man to smell unto it3 as it
 is many a mans  fashion to do1 wt      
importunate meanes1 yea1 thrusting it   
unto their  nose1 saying3 ,foh1 feele ,i
 pray you1 how this doth stink3 where   
they  should rather say1 smell not unto 
it3 for it hath an ill sent4 ,and as    
these and like fashions offend the      
senses1 to which they appertaine3  so to
 grinde the teethe1 to whistle1 to make 
pitifull cries1 to rubb  sharpe stones  

together1 and to file uppon ,iron1 do   
muche offend the  ,eares and would be   
lefte in any case4 ,neither must wee    
refraine those  things alone1 but we    
must also beware we do not sing1 and    
specialy  alone1 if we have an          
untuneable voice1 which is a common     
fault with  moste men3 ,and yet1 hee    
that is of nature least apt unto it1    
doth use  it moste4 ,so there be some   
kinde of men1 that in coffing or        
neesing1  make suche noise1 that they   
make a man deafe to here them3 other    
some  use in like things1 so little     
discretion1 that they spit in mens faces
  that stand about them3 besides these  
there be some1 that in yauning1  braye  
and crye out like ,asses4 ,and yet such1
 with open mouth wil  ever say and do   
what they list1 and make such noise1 or 
rather such  roaring1 as the dumme man  
doth1 when he striveth with him selfe to
  speake4 ,all these yllfavoured        
fashions1 a man must leave1 as lothsome 
to the eare and the eye4 ,and a man must

 leave to yawne muche1 not  only for the
 respect of the matter ,i have saide    
alreadye1 as that it  seemes to         
proceede1 of a certaine werines1 that   
shewes that he that  yawneth1 could     
better like to be els where1 then there 
in that place3  as wearied with the     
companie1 their talke1 and their doings4
 ,and sure1  albeit a man be many times 
disposed to yawne1 yet if he be occupied
  with any delight1 or earnest matter to
 think uppon3 he shall have no  minde to
 doe it4 ,but if he be lumpishe  idle3  
it is an easy matter  to fall in to it4 
,and therefore1 ,when a man yawneth1 in 
place where  there bee slouthfull and   
,idle folkes1 that have nothing to doe1 
the  rest1 as you may see many times1   
yawne againe for companie by  by3  as if
 he that yawned1 had put them in minde  
to doe it1 which of them  selves they   
would have done first1 if hee had not   
be-goone unto them4  ,and ,i have many  
times heard learned and wise men say1   
that ,a yawner  meaneth as much in      

,latin as a careles and ,idle bodie4    
,let us then flye  these condicions1    
that loathe 7as ,i said7 the eyes1 the  
,eares1  the  ,stomacke4 ,for in using  
these fashions1 we doe not only shewe   
that we  take litle pleasure in the     
company1 but we geve them occasion      
withall1  to judge amis of us3 ,i meane 
yt we have a drowsye  hevie nowle1 which
  makes us ill wellcom1 to all companies
 we come unto4 ,and when thou  hast     
blowne thy nose1 use not to open thy    
handkercheif1 to glare uppon  thy snot1 
as if yu hadst pearles and ,rubies      
fallen from thy braynes3  for these be  
slovenly parts1 ynough to cause men1 not
 so much not to  love us1 as if they did
 love us1 to unlove us againe4 ,as the  
,sprite  of ,labirintho doth testifie   
7who soever he were that made it7 who   
7to  quenche ye heate wherwith ,master  
,john ,boccase burned in desire and     
,love of his ,lady unknowne7 tells1 come
 ella covaua la cenere1 sedendosi  insu 
le calcagna2  tossiua1  isputaua        

farfalloni4    ,it is also an unmanerly 
parte1 for a man to lay his nose uppon  
the cup  where another must drinke3 or  
uppon the meate yt another must eate1   
to the end to smell unto it3 ,but       
rather1 ,i would wish he should not     
smell at all1 no not to that which he   
himselfe should eate and drinke3        
because it may chaunce there might fall 
some droppe from his nose1 that  would  
make a man to loath it3 although there  
fall nothing at all in  deede4 ,neither1
 by mine advise1 shalt thou reache to   
any man1 that cup  of wine wherof thy   
selfe hast first dronke and tasted3     
wtout he be  more then a familiar friend
 unto thee4 ,and much lesse must thou   
give  any parte of the peare or the     
fruite1 which thou hast bitten in thy   
mouth before4 ,and esteeme not light of 
my talke1 for that these things  be of  
little account3 ,for even light stripes 
7their number may be such7  be able to  
slaye fast ynoughe4    ,now you shall   
understand1 there was in ,verona1 a     

bishop a wise man1 a  learned  of a     
singular good wit by nature1 whose name 
was ,giovanni  ,matheo ,giberti3        
,amongst many good parts yt were in him1
 he was very  courtious  liberall1 to   
all gentlemen  noble men that came unto 
him1  doing them all ye honor he could  
in his house1 not with over much  pompe 
and cost1 but with convenient           
entertainement and measure1 such  as    
besemed well a man of the ,clergie4 ,it 
chaunced in his time1 a noble  gentleman
 called ,count ,richard1 passed that    
way1 to spend a fewe dayes  with the    
,bishop and his householde together3    
which was thoroughly  furnished wt      
honest gentlemen and very well learned4 
,and bycause  they found him a ,noble   
gentleman1 courteous and well beseene in
 all  good behaviour1 they praised him  
muche1 and made muche of him1 save  that
 one unmanerly fashion they muche       
misliked in him4 ,when the ,bishop  was 
advertised of it1 consulting with some  
of his familiars about it  7as he was a 

wise man in all his doings7 straite they
 concluded1 it  should be necessary to  
let ye ,count have knowledge of it3     
albeit they  feared1 they should offend 
him4 ,upon this1 ye ,count taking his   
leave1  and redy to ride away the next  
morning1 the ,bishop called one of his  
servants unto him1 7a man of good       
discretion7 and gave him in charge  to  
take his horse1 to beare the ,count     
company1 some parte of his waye3  ,and  
when he sawe his time1 after an honest  
sorte1 to tell him1 that  which they had
 determined betwene them selves4 ,the   
same gentleman that  had this charge1   
was a man well strooken in yeares1 very 
lerned1 and  mervailous pleasaunt1      
welspoken1 comely1 and had muche        
frequented in  his time1 ye ,courtes of 
greate ,princes3 who was 7perhaps7 and  
is1  called ,galateo3 at whose request  
and councell1 ,i first tooke in hand to 
set forth this present treatise4 ,riding
 with the ,count1 he found him  plesaunt
 talke ynoughe1 and passing from one    

matter to another1 when he  thought it  
time to returne to ,verona1 in taking   
leave at parting1 with  a gentle        
cherefull countenaunce1 he used this    
speache unto him4 ,sir  ,count1 my      
,lorde yealdeth you many thanks for the 
honour you have done  him1 in that it   
hath pleased you to vouchesafe his poore
 house3 and  that he may not be         
unthankfull1 for this your greate       
courtesie shewed  unto him1 he hath     
geven me in charge1 that ,i must leave a
 present with  you in his behalfe3 and  
he sends it unto you with earnest       
request1 that  you please to take it in 
good worthe3 and this is the gift4 ,you 
are a  goodly gentleman1 and the best   
manered man my ,lorde hath ever seene3  
,so that very heedefully beholding your 
behaviours1 and particularly            
considering them all1 hee findeth no one
 that is not very comely and            
comendable1 only one unsemely tricke    
alone excepted1 which you make  with    
your lippes and your mouth together1    

feeding at your meate with  a certaine  
straunge noyes1 unpleasaunt to all men  
that heare it4 ,this  my ,lord willed me
 to tell you1 and prayes you to endevour
 your selfe  to leave it1 and withall to
 accept in lewe of a beter present1 this
  loving admonition and councell of his3
 for he is sure1 there is none  in the  
worlde1 would make you the like present4
 ,the ,count 7that never  wist of his   
fault till now7 hearing himselfe        
reproved1 chaunged his  countenance a   
little1 but 7as a man full of stomacke  
ynough7 taking  hart at grasse1 he said3
 ,tell your ,lorde1 that if all the     
gifts that  men wont to geve eche other1
 were such as his1 men should be muche  
more  riche then they are4 ,and for his 
greate courtesie and liberalitie to     
mee1 geve him many thanks ,i pray you1  
and let him be sure1 ,i will not  faile 
from henceforthe to mend my fault1 and  
,god be with you4    ,now what shal we  
thinke this ,bishop1 his modest and     
honest company  about him would say1 if 

they sawe these whome wee see other     
while1  7like swine wt their snouts in  
the washe1 all begroined7 never lift  up
 their heads nor looke up1 and muche    
lesse keepe their hands from  the meate1
 and wt both their cheeks blowne 7as if 
they should sound a  trumpet1 or blowe  
the fier7 not eate but ravon3 whoe1     
besmearing their  hands1 almost up to   
their elbowes1 so bedawbe ye napkins1   
that ye  cloathes in the places of      
easement1 be other while cleaner4 ,and  
to mend  these slovenly maners1 be not  
ashamed1 many times with these filthy   
napkins1 to wipe awaye the sweat that   
trickleth and falleth downe their       
browes1 their face and their necke 7they
 be such greedy guts in their  feeding7 
and otherwhile to1 7when it comes uppon 
them7 spare not to  snot their sniveld  
nose uppon them4 ,truly these beastly   
behaviours and  fashions1 deserve not   
alone1 to be thrust out of this noble   
bishops  house1 that was so pure and    
cleane3 but to be throughly banished all

  places1 where any honest men should   
com4 ,let a man then take hede1 hee  doe
 not begrease his fingers so deepe1 yt  
he befyle the napkins to  much3 for it  
is an ill sight to see it3 neither is it
 good maner1 to  rubbe your gresie      
fingers uppon ye bread you must eate4   
,the servaunts that bee appointed to    
waite uppon the table1 must not  7in any
 wise7 scratche and rubbe their heades1 
nor any parte els in  the sight of their
 ,lorde  ,master3 nor thrust their hands
 in any those  partes of their body that
 be covered1 no not so muche as make any
  proffer3 as some careles fellowes doo1
 holding their hands in their  bosome1  
or cast under the flappes of their      
coates behind them4 ,but they  must     
beare them abroade without any suspicion
 and keepe them 7in any  case7 washt    
cleane without any spot of durt uppon   
them4 ,and they that  cary the dishes1  
or reache the cup1 must beware at that  
time1 they doe  not spit1 coughe or     
neese3 for in such doings1 ,suspicion is

 as greate1  and offendeth asmuche1 as  
the very deede it selfe3 and therefore1 
servants must forsee1 they geve no cause
 to ,maisters to suspect3 ,for  that    
which might chaunce1 anoyeth asmuche1 as
 if it had chaunced  indeede4    ,and if
 thou do roaste any fruite1 or make a   
toaste at the fier1 thou  must not blowe
 of the ashes1 7if there be any7 for it 
is an old saying1  that1 winde was never
 without water4 ,but yu must lightly    
strike it  uppon the plate1 or after    
some suche sorte or other beate of ye   
ashes4  ,thou shalt not offer thy       
handkerchiefe to any man to use it1     
albeit1  it be very cleane washed3 for  
he to whome thou doest offer it1 can not
  7perhaps7 awaye wt it1 and may be to  
curious to take it4    ,when a man      
talketh with one1 it is no good maner to
 come so neere1 that  he must needes    
breathe in his face3 for there be many  
that cannot abide  to feele the ayer of 
another mans breathe1 albeit there come 
no ill  savour from him4 ,these and like

 fashions1 be very unsemely1 and would  
be eschewed1 because their senses1 wt   
whome we acquaint our selves1  cannot   
brooke nor beare them4    ,now1 let us  
speake of those things which 7without   
any hurt or anoyaunce  to the senses7   
offende the minds of most men1 before   
whome they be  doone4 ,you shall        
understand1 that ,the appetites of men1 
7throughe a  naturall instinct and      
inclination7 be verie strange and       
divers3 ,some  be cholerike  hasty1  may
 not be satisfied with out revenge3     
other  doe give them selves cleane over1
 to pamper the belly3 this man sets  his
 delighte in lust and sensualitie3 that 
man is carried away with  his covetous  
desires3 and many suche appetites more  
there are1 to  which mans minde is too  
subject3 but you shall not in any       
company1  easily judge or discerne      
betweene them1 where and in what1 they  
bee  moste affected4 ,for1 these matters
 doe not consist in the maners1 the     
fashions and speache of men3 but rest in

 some other point4 ,they seeke  to      
purchase yt which the benefit of mutuall
 conferrence may yeald  them1  that doe 
7as ,i weene7 good will1 honour1        
comforte and pleasure1  or some other   
thing like unto these3  therfore we must
 neither say  or doe the thing1 that may
 give any signe of litle loving or      
esteming  them1 we live withall4    ,so 
that1 it is a rude fashion1 7in my      
conceipte7 yt som men use1 to  lie      
lolling a sleepe in that place1 where   
honest men be met together1  of purpose 
to talke4 ,for his so doing1 shewes that
 he doth not esteeme  the company1 and  
little rekoneth of them or their talke4 
,and more then  that1 he that sleepeth  
7and specially lying at litle ease1 as  
he must7  wonts 7for the moste parte7 to
 doe some fowle thing1 to beholde1 or   
heare3 and many times they awake        
sweating and driveling at the mouth4    
,and in like maner1 to rise up where    
other men doe sit and talke1 and  to    
walke up and downe the chamber1 it is no

 point of good maner4 ,also  there be   
some that so buskell them selves1       
reache1 streatch and yawne1  writhing   
now one side1 and then another1 that a  
man would weene1 they  had some fever   
uppon them3 ,a manifest signe1 that the 
company they  keepe1 doth weary them4   
,likewise doe they very ill1 yt now     
then pull out a letter out of  their    
pocket1 to reade it3 as if they had     
greate matters of charge1  and affaires 
of the common weale committed unto them4
 ,but they are  much more to bee blamed1
 that pull out their knives or their    
scisers1  and doe nothing els but pare  
their nailes1 as if they made no account
  at all of the company1 and would seeke
 some other solace to passe the  time   
awaye4 ,theis fashions to1 must be left1
 yt some men use1 to sing  betwene the  
teeth1 or playe the dromme with their   
fingers1 or shoofle  their feete3 ,for  
these demeanours shewe that a body is   
carelesse of any  man ells4    ,besides1
 let not a man so sit that he turne his 

taile to him that  sitteth next to him3 
nor lie tottering with one legg so high 
above the  other1 that a man may see all
 bare that his cloathes would cover4    
,for  such parts be never playde1 but   
amongst those to whome a man needs use  
no reverence4 ,it is very true1 that if 
a gentleman should use these  fashions  
before his servants1 or in the presence 
of some friende of  meaner condition    
then him selfe3 it would betoken no     
pride1 but a love  and familiaritie4    
,let a man stand uppright of him selfe1 
and not leane or loll uppon  another    
mans shoulder3 and when he talketh1 let 
him not pounche his  fellow with his    
elbowe1 7as many be wont to doe7 at     
every worde they  speake1 saying3 ,did  
,i not say true ,sirra4 ,master4 ,n4 ,it
 is ,master4 ,h4  ,and still they be    
jotting with their elbowe4    ,i would  
have every man well appareled1 meete for
 his age and calling3  for otherwise1   
they seeme to have men in contempt that 
be better  attired then themselves4     

,and therefore the ,citizens of ,padua1 
were woont to take it done of  spighte  
unto them1 when any gentleman of ,venice
 walked up  downe their  citie in his   
coate1 as though he thought him selfe in
 the countrey4 ,and  a mans apparell1   
would not be made of fine cloathe alone3
 but he must  frame it1 all that he may1
 to the fashions that other men weare1  
and  suffer him selfe to bee lead by    
common use3 although 7perchaunce7 it    
be1 and seeme to be lesse commodious1   
lesse gallant1 and lesse faire in       
shewe1 then his oulde4    ,and if all   
men els1 doe weare their heads powled3  
it shalbe an ill  sight for thee alone1 
to weare a longe bushe of haire4 ,and   
where  other men1 make muche of their   
beardes and weare them longe3 thou      
shalt not doe well to cut thine of1 or  
shave it4 ,for that weare to be         
overthwarte in everything3 which thou   
must 7in any case7 beware of1  except   
necessitie require it1 as thou shalt    
heare hereafter4 ,for this              

singularitie1 beyond all other ill      
customes1 makes us generally spited  of 
all men4 ,thou must not then go against 
common custome in these  things1 but use
 them measureably3 that thou maist not  
bee an odd man  alone in a countrey3    
that shall weare a long ,gowne downe to 
the foote1  where other men weare them  
very shorte1 litle beneath the waste4   
,for  as it hapens to him1 that hath a  
very crabbed ilfavoured face1 7,i meane 
suche1 as is more harde and sower then  
most mennes be1 for nature doth  mostly 
shape them well in moste men7 that men  
will wonder and 7with a  kinde of       
admiration7 gape most uppon him3 ,so    
fares it with them that  attire them    
selves1 not as most men doe3 but as they
 are egged by  their owne fantasticall  
heads1 with long heare spred downe to   
their  shoulders1 their beardes short   
and shaven1 and weare quaiues or greate 
cappes after ye ,flaundres fashion3 that
 all men doe gaze uppon them1  as       
wondering at suche1 whome they weene    

have taken uppon them1 to  conquer all  
countries wheresoever they come4 ,let   
your apparell then1  be very well made1 
and fit for your body3 for they that    
weare rich and  coastly garments1 but so
 illfavouredly shaped1 that a man would 
weene  the measure had bin taken by     
another3 geve us to judge one of these  
twaine1 that either they have no regarde
 or consideration how to please  or     
displease3 or els have no skill to judge
 of measure or grace1 or  what doth     
become them4    ,such maner of people1  
with their rude behaviours and fashions1
 make men  with whome they live1        
suspect1 they doe esteeme them but      
light4 ,and  that causeth them worse    
welcome whersoever they com and ill     
beloved  amongest men4    ,but there be 
some besides these1 that deserve more   
then bare  suspicion3 their deeds and   
their doings be so intollerable1 that a 
man cannot abide to live amongest them  
by any meanes4 ,for they be  ever a let1
 a hurt and a trouble to all the        

companie1 they be never  redie3 ever a  
trimming3 never well dressed to their   
mindes4 ,but when  men be readie to sit 
downe to the table1 the meate at the    
boorde1 and  their handes washed3 then  
they must write or make water1 or have  
their  exercise to doe3 saying1 ,it is  
too early3 we might have taried a       
while3 what haste is this1 this morning8
 ,and thus they disquiet all  the       
company1 as men1 caring for them selves 
alone  their owne matters1  without     
consideration in the worlde of other    
men4 ,besides this1 they  will in all   
things be preferred above others3 they  
must have the best  bed1 and best       
chamber3 they must take uppon them the  
highest place  at the table1 and be     
first set and served of all men4 ,and   
they be so  deintie and nice1 that      
nothing pleaseth them1 but what they    
them selves  devise3 they make a sower  
face at any thing ells4 ,and they be so 
proude  minded1 that they looke that men
 should waite uppon them when they      

dine1 ride1 sporte1 or solace them      
selves4    ,there be other so furious1  
testie  waywarde1 that nothing you doe  
can  please them3 and what soever is    
said they aunswer in choler1 and never  
leave brauling wt their servants1 and   
rayling at them1 and continually        
disturbe the company with their         
unquietnes3 using such speeches3 ,thou  
cauledst me well up this morning4 ,looke
 heere how cleane thou hast  made these 
pynsons4 ,thou beaste1 thou diddest     
waite well uppon me to  ,churche4 ,it   
were a good deede to breake thy head4   
,these be unsemely  and very fowle      
fashions3 suche as every honest man will
 hate to death4  ,for1 albeit a mans    
minde were full fraught with all        
humilitie1 and  would use these maners1 
not uppon pride or disdaine1 but uppon a
  rechelesse care1 not heeding his      
doings1 or elles by meanes of ill       
custome3 yet notwithstanding1 because   
his outward doings1 woulde make  men    
thinke him proude3 it cannot be chosen1 

but all men woulde hate him  for it4    
,for1 ,pride is none other thinge1 then 
to despise and disdaine  another4 ,and  
as ,i have saide from the beginning3    
,eache man desireth to  bee well thought
 of1 ,albeit there bee no valoure or    
goodnes in him4    ,it is not long1     
since there was in ,rome a worthy       
gentleman1 of singular  good witt and   
profound learning1 whose name was       
,ubaldino ,bandinelli4  ,this gentleman 
was woont to say1 that as ofte as hee   
went or came from  the ,courte1 although
 the stretes weare ever full of gallant 
,courtiers1  of ,prelates and ,noble    
men1 and likewise of poore men1 and     
people of  meane and base condition3 yet
 he thought he never encountred any1    
that  was either better or worse then   
himselfe4 ,and without doubte hee could 
meete with fewe1 that might bee compared
 in goodnes to him3 respecting  his     
vertues1 that did excel beyond measure4 
,but we must not alwayes in  these      
things measure men by ye ,elne3 ,we must

 rather waye them in the  millers       
scoles1 then in the goldsmythes         
balaunce4 ,and it is a courtious  parte1
 redily to receave them in to favour3   
not bycause they bee  woorthe it3 but as
 men doe with coines1 bycause they be   
currant4    ,to go further1 wee must doe
 nothing in their sight whome wee desire
 to  please1 that may shewe wee covet1  
rather to rule and to reigne1 then to   
live in a familiar equalitie amongest   
them4 ,for hautines of harte and        
ambitious disposition1 as it kindleth an
 ill opinion3 so it ministreth  muche   
cause of contempte1 which in conclusion 
will so woorke against  thee1 yt thou   
shalt bee cleane cast out of honest     
company4 ,but our  dooings must rather  
beare a signe and shewe of reverence1   
meekenes1   respect to ye company1 in   
which wee fellowship ourselves4 ,so     
that1  what so ever is doone in meete   
and convenient time1 may hapely deserve 
no blame3 but yet in respect of the     
place and the persone1 it may be        

reproved well3 althoughe for it self1 ye
 matter deserve no rebuke4  ,as to      
brawle and to raile at your servaunts   
7which we have talked of  before7 but   
muche more to beate them4 ,because these
 partes1 are asmuche  as to reigne and  
to rule3 which no honest and civil      
gentleman will use1  in presence of them
 he doth respect with any reverence or  
courtesie4  ,besides this1 the company  
is muche offended with it1 and their    
meetinges are broken1 and especially1 if
 it be done at the table1 which  is a   
place of solace and mirthe1 and not of  
brawle and scolding4 ,so  that ,i must  
nedes commend ,currado ,gianfigliazzi   
for his civil behaviour  in yt he       
multiplied no words with ,chichibio to  
trouble his guests3  albeit he deserved 
to be sharply punished for it1 when he  
would sooner  displease his master then 
,brunetta4 ,and yet if ,currado had made
 lesse  adoe about it then he did3 it   
had ben more his praise4 ,for then he   
should never have neded1 to call uppon  

,god1 to witnes his threatnings  so     
muche as he did4    ,but to returne to  
our matter3 it is not good for a man to 
chide at the  table for any cause4 ,and 
if thou be angrie1 shew it not1 nor make
 no  signe of thy greefe1 for the reason
 ,i have tolde thee1 and specially  if  
thou have straungers with thee3 because 
thou haste called them to  be merry1 and
 this wil make them sad4 ,for1 as the   
sharpe and tarte  things yt other men   
doe feede uppon in thy sight1 doe set   
thy teeth  likewise on edge3 so to see  
other men vexed and out of quiet1 it    
maketh  us unquiet too4 ,i call them    
,fromward people1 which will in         
allthings be  overtwhart to other men3  
as the very worde it selfe doth shewe4  
,for1  ,frome-warde1 signifieth asmuche1
 as ,shorne against the wooll4 ,now1 how
  fit a thinge this frowardnes is1 to   
win the good will of men1 and cause  men
 to wishe well unto them3 that you your 
self may easily ,judge1 in  that it     
consisteth in overtwharting other mens  

desiers3 which qualitie  never          
mainteineth friendship1 but maketh      
friends become foes4 ,and  therfor let  
them that desire to be well thought of  
and welcome amongst  men1 endevour them 
selves to shunne this fault3 ,for it    
breedes no good  liking nor love1 but   
hatred and hurt4 ,i would councell you  
rather to  measure your pleasures by    
other mens willes3 where there shal come
 no  hurt nor shame of it3 and therin   
alwayes to doe  to saye1 more to  please
 other mens mindes and fansies1 then    
your owne4    ,againe1 you must be      
neither clownishe nor lumpishe3 but     
pleasaunt and  familiar4 ,for there     
should bee no oddes1 betweene the       
,mystell and the  ,pungitopo3 but that  
the one is wilde3 the other growes in   
gardens4 ,and  you must understand1 that
 he is pleasaunt and courteous3 whose   
manners  bee suche in his common        
behaviour1 as practise to keepe1 and    
maintaine  him friendeship amongst them3
 where hee that is solleyne and         

waywarde1  makes him selfe a straunger  
whersoever hee comes3 a straunger1 ,i   
meane1  asmuch as a forreigne or        
alienborne3 where contrariwise1 he that 
is  familiar  gentle1 in what place so  
ever he comes3 is taken for a  familiar 
and friend with all men4 ,so that it    
shalbe necessarie for  a man1 to use him
 selfe to salute1 to speake1 and to     
answer after a  gentle sorte1 and to    
behave him selfe wt all men so3 as if   
hee were  their countryman borne1  of   
their olde acquaintance4 ,which some can
  ill skill to doe1 that never give a   
man a good countenaunce3 easily  say1   
,no1 to all things3 never take in good  
worthe1 the honour and  courtesie that  
men doe unto them 7like to the people ,i
 spake of before1  rude and barbarous73 
never take delight in any pleasaunt     
conceites or  other pleasures3 but ever 
refuse it all1 what soever is presented 
or  offered unto them4 ,if a man say3   
,sir1 suche a one willed me to commend  
him unto you3 ,they aunswere straite3   

what have ,i too doe with his           
greetings8 ,and if a man say3 ,sir1     
suche a one your friend1 asked me  how  
you did4 ,they aunswer againe in choler3
 ,let him come feele my  pulse4 ,these  
carterlike and clownishe aunswers and   
maners1 and the men  them selves that   
doe use them3 would bee chased and      
hunted away1 out of  all good and honest
 company4    ,it ill becomes a man when 
hee is in company1 to bee sad1 musing1  
and  full of contemplation4 ,and albeit1
 it may bee suffered perchaunce  in them
 that have long beaten their braines in 
these ,mathematicall  studies3 which are
 called 7as ,i take it7 the ,liberall   
,artes3 yet  without doubte it may not  
be borne in other men4 ,for1 even these 
studious fellowes1 at suche time1 when  
they be so ful of their ,muses3  should 
be much wiser to get them selves alone4 
,againe1 to bee to nice or to deintie3  
it may not be abiden1 and  specially in 
men4 ,for1 to live with suche kinde of  
people3 is rather  a slaverie then      

pleasure4 ,and sure there bee som such1 
so softe   tender3 yt to live and deale 
with such people1 it is as daungerous3  
as  to medle with the finest and        
brittelest glasse that may be3 ,so muche
  they are affraide of every light      
touche4 ,and they wilbe as testy and    
frowarde1 if you doe not quickly and    
readily salute them1 visite them1       
worship them1 and make them answer3 as  
some other body would be1 for  the      
greatest injurie yt can be donne unto   
them4 ,and if you doe not  give them all
 the due reverence that may be3 they    
will presently take a  thousand         
occasions to quarell and fall out with  
you4 ,if you chaunce to  ,master him1   
and leave out his title of ,honour or   
worship3 he takes that  in dougeon1 and 
thinkes you doe mock him4 ,and if you   
set him beneath  as good a man as him   
self at the table3 that is against his  
honour4 ,if  you doe not visite him at  
home at his house3 then you knowe not   
your  dutie4 ,theis maner of fashions   

and behaviours1 bring men to such scorne
  and disdaine of their doings3 that    
there is no man1 almost1 can abide  to  
beholde them3 for they love them selves 
to farre beyonde measure1  and busie    
them selves so much in that1 that they  
finde litle leisure  to bethinke them   
selves to love any other3 which 7as ,i  
have saide  from the beginning7 men     
seeke to finde in the conditions and    
maners  of those with whome they must   
live3 ,i meane1 that they should apply  
them selves to the fansies  mindes of   
their friendes4 ,but to live wt  suche  
people1 so hard to please3 whose love   
and friendship once wonne1  is as easily
 lost1 as a fine scarfe is lightly      
caried away with the  winde3 that is no 
life but a service3 and1 besides that it
 yealdeth no  pleasure1 it geves a man  
greate disdaine and horror4 ,let us     
therefore  leave these softe and wanton 
behaviours to women4    ,in speach a man
 may fault many wayes4 ,and first in the
 matter it selfe  that is in talke1     

which may not be vaine or filthye4 ,for1
 they that  doe heare it1 will not abide
 it3 as ye talk they take no pleasure to
  heare3 but rather scorne the speache  
and the speaker both4 ,againe1  a man   
must not move any question of matters   
that be to deepe  to  subtile3 because  
it is hardly understoode of the moste4  
,and a man must  warely foresee1 that   
the matter bee suche1 as none of the    
company may  blushe to heare it1 or     
receave any shame by the tale4 ,neither 
must he  talke of any filthy matter1    
albeit a man would take a pleasure to   
heare  it3 for1 it ill becomes an honest
 gentleman1 to seeke to please1 but in  
things that be honest4    ,neither in   
sporte nor in earnest1 must a man speake
 any thing against  ,god or his         
,saintes1 how witty or pleasaunt so ever
 the matter be4  ,wherein1 the company  
that ,giovan ,boccaccio hathe brought to
 speake  in his ,novelles and tales1    
hath faulted so muche3 that me thinkes  
every good body1 may justly blame them  

for it4 ,and you must thinke  ,it is not
 only a token of great detestation      
,impietie in a man1 to  talke in        
jestinge wise of ,god3 but hee is a     
wicked  sinfull man1  that will abide to
 heare it4 ,but you shall finde some    
suche good men1  as will flie asmuche as
 the plague1 the company of such as     
talke so  unreverently1 and without     
respect1 of the incomprehensible        
,majestie of  ,god4 ,and wee must not   
alone speake religiously of him3 but in 
all our  talkes wee must avoide what wee
 may1 that our wordes may not witnes    
against our life and our workes4 ,for   
men doe hate their owne faultes         
otherwhile1 when they see them in       
another4    ,likewise it is unsavourie1 
to talke of things out of time1 not     
fitting  the place and company3 although
 the matter it selfe1 and spoken in     
time1 were otherwise both good and      
godly4 ,we must not then reherse        
,friers sermones to young gentlewomen1  
when they are disposed to sporte  them  

selves3 as yt good man did1 that dwelles
 not farr hence1 nere  to ,s4           
,brancatio4 ,and in feastes  at table1  
wee must beware wee doe  not rehearse   
any sorowfull tales1 nor put them in    
minde of woundes1 of  sicknes1 of       
deathes1 of ,plagues1 or of other       
dolefull matters4 ,but  if another man  
chaunce to move suche matter3 it shalbe 
good1 after  an honest and gentell      
sorte1 to exchaunge that talke1 and     
thrust in  some other1 yt may give them 
more delighte and pleasure to heare  it4
 ,albeit1 not long since ,i heard it    
said to a worthy gentleman our          
neighbour1 that ,men have many times    
more neede to weepe then to laugh4  ,and
 for that cause hee said1 these dolefull
 tales1 which wee call  ,tragedies1 were
 devised at first1 that when they were  
playd in the  ,theatres 7as at that time
 they were wont7 they might draw fourth 
teares  out of their eyes1 that had     
neede to spend them4 ,and so they were  
by  their weeping1 healed of their      

infirmitie4 ,but albeit it bee good  to 
doe so3 yet it will il become us to     
drive men into their dumpes3  especially
 where they bee mett to feaste and to   
solace themselves1   not to mourne4 ,for
 if there be any1 yt hath suche weeping 
disease3  it will bee an easie matter to
 cure it1 wt stronge ,mustard or a      
smoaky house4 ,so that1 in no wise1 ,i  
can excuse our friend ,philostrato1  for
 his worke that hee made full of dule   
and of death1 to suche a  company as    
desired nothing more then mirthe4 ,wee  
must the rather use  silence1 then      
discourse of suche sorrowfull matters4  
,and they doe asmuche amisse too1 that  
never have other thing in their  mouthe1
 then their children1 their wife1 and   
their nourse4 ,my litle  boy1 made mee  
so laughe yesterday3 heare you3 you     
never sawe a sweeter  babe in your life3
 my wife is such a one1 ,cecchina told  
mee3 of troth  you would not beleeve    
what a wit shee hath3 ,there is none so 
idle  a body1 that will either intend to

 answer1 or abide to heare suche        
foolishe prittle prattle4 ,for it ircks 
a mans eares to harken unto it4         
,there be some againe1 so curious in    
telling their dreames from point  to    
point1 using such wonder and admiration 
withall1 yt it makes a mans  hart ake to
 heare them3  specially because 7for ye 
most parte7 they  be such kinde of      
people3 as it is but labour lost to     
heare1 even the  very best exploits they
 doe1 when they be most awake1 and      
labour most  to shew their best4        
,wherfore we must not trouble men with  
so base and  absurde matter as dreames  
bee3 especially suche foolishe things1  
as  most times men have4 ,albeit ,i have
 heard say many times1 that wisemen  in 
times past1 have leaft in their bookes  
many sortes of dreames1  conteining     
matters of deepe knowledge and          
understanding3 it followeth  not yet1   
that wee1 the unlearned and common sorte
 of people1 should  use it in our       
familiar and common talke4 ,and sure of 

all the dreames  that ever ,i heard     
7albeit ,i hardly listen to any7 in my  
conceit1 ,i  never heard any1 that was  
worth the hearing but one alone1 which  
the  good ,master ,flaminio ,tomarozzo a
 gentleman of ,rome did see1 a man not  
unlearned and grosse3 but full of       
knowledge and singular witte4 ,and  thus
 was his dreame1 ,this gentleman ,master
 ,flaminio ,tomarozzo1 thought  he was  
sitting in a very riche ,apothecaries   
shop1 a neere neighbour  of his4 ,and   
after he had bin there a while 7what    
soever the occasion  was7 the people    
were up in a rore one a sodaine1 and    
fell to spoiling  of all that was in the
 shoppe4 ,one tooke an ,electuarie1     
another a  ,confection1 some one thing1 
some another1 and presently eate it upp 
all3 ,so that within a while1 there was 
neither virell glasse1 ertherne  pot1   
wodden boxe1 nor any potels of drugges1 
that was not emptied1  broken1 or       
overthrowne4 ,but amongest them all1    
ther was one verye small  glasse1 full  

to the toppe of verie cleare water1     
which many did smell  to1 but no man    
would taste4 ,he stoode not there long1 
but there came  in a tall man1 an aged  
and very grave man1 to look unto4 ,this 
,aged  father beholding this unfortunate
 ,apothecaries boxes and pottes1 and    
finding some emptied1 some overthrowne1 
and the better parte broken3  ,at lenght
 casting his eye aside1 he chaunced to  
see the smal glasse ,i  spake of before1
 and setting the same to his mouthe1 hee
 dranke it up  so cleane3 that he leaft 
not one droppe4 ,and this doone1 he went
 from  thence as the rest did before4   
,master ,flaminio was abashed and       
marveled  muche at this matter4 ,and    
therefore turning to the ,apothecarie he
 saied  unto him3 ,sir1 whoe is this    
that came laste8 and why did he drinke  
up  so savourly1 all the water in that  
litle glasse1 which all the reast       
refused4 ,to whome the ,apothecarie     
seemed to make this aunswer4 ,my  sonne1
 this is the ,lord ,god4 ,and the water1

 that hee alone dranke1 and  all the    
reast refused and would not taste as you
 saw3 was discretion3  which1 you know  
wel ynough men will not taste of1 by any
 meanes4    ,such kind of dreames1 ,i   
hould well a man may rehearse1 and heare
  with much pleasure and profit4        
,bycause they doe more resemble1 the    
,cogitations  thoughts of an awakened   
minde3 or better1 ,i shoulde  say1 the  
vertue sensitive3 then the visions and  
sights of a drowsie  head4 ,but those   
other dreames1 without shape1 fashion or
 sense3 7which  the moste parte of suche
 men as we are1 bee wont to have7 would 
be  forgotten cleane1 and lost with our 
sleepe4 ,howbeit1 ,i doe not deny but   
the dreames of good men and learned1 be 
better and wiser than theires  of the   
wicked and more unlearned sorte4    ,and
 albeit a man would weene1 there can bee
 nothing in the worlde  more vaine then 
,dreames3 yet there is one thing more   
light then they1  and that are ,lies4   
,for there is yet some shadowe1 and1 as 

it were1 a  certaine feeling of that    
which a man hath seene in his dreame4   
,but  there is neither shadowe nor bodye
 of a trueth in a lie4 ,and therfore  we
 should lesse busie mens eares1 and     
their mindes to harken to lies1  then to
 dreames1 because they bee otherwhile   
received for truethes4  ,but time1 in   
the ende1 discovers suche pelfe3 that   
liers1 not only  doe gaine no credite1  
but no man vouchesafes to harken unto   
them1  in otherwise 7as the men that    
carry no substaunce in their woordes7   
then if they had saide nothing or blowne
 a litle winde4 ,and you shal           
understand1 ther be many yt use to lie1 
not minding any ill purpose  in it1 or  
to make their owne peculiar proffit by  
it1 to hurt other  men or shame their   
neighbour3 onely they doe it1 for a     
pleasure they  take to tell a lie3 as   
men that drinke not1 all for thirst3 but
 for a  pleasure they take1 to taste of 
the wine4 ,other some doe tell lies1 to 
make a vaine glorious boasting of them  

selves3 vaunting and telling in  a      
bravery1 what wonderfull exploits they  
have doone1 or bearing men in  hand1    
they be greate doctours and learned men4
    ,in ,silence too1 after a sorte1    
without speache1 a man may tell a       
lesinge3 ,i meane with his gestures and 
grace3 as some you shall see1  that     
being of meane1 or rather base condition
 and calling1 use suche a  solemnitie in
 all their doings1 and marche so        
stately1 and speake with  suche a       
prerogative1 or rather discourse like   
,parleament men1 setteling  them selves1
 as it were1 in a place of ,judgement1  
proudly prying about  them like         
,peacockes3 that it is a very death to  
behold them4    ,and some suche you     
shall finde1 that allthough they bee    
combered with  no more wealthe then     
easily serves their turne3 yet will they
 never  appeare unles their neckes be   
laden with chaines1 their fingers full  
of rings1 their cappes beset with       
agletts1 and every other parte          

bespangled1 as though they would defie  
ye ,king of ,castiglio4 ,whose          
behaviours be full of follies and vaine 
glorie1 which cometh of pride1  growing 
of vanitie it selfe4 ,so that wee must  
eschew these faults1 as  foule and      
unseemely things4 ,you shall understand1
 in many ,cities1 and  those of the     
best1 the lawes doe not suffer1 that    
riche men should go  muche more         
gorgeously attired1 then the poore4 ,for
 poore men thinke  they have a wrong3   
when men seeme1 but in countenaunce     
alone1 as it  were ,imperiously to      
reigne over them4 ,so that we must      
carefully beware  we fall not into these
 follies4    ,neither must a man boaste 
of his ,nobilitie1 his ,honour or       
riches3  muche lesse vaunt of his witt1 
or gloriously reherse to much of his    
deedes  valiant ,actes1 or what his     
,auncestors have done1 nor uppon  every 
occasion1 fall in rehersall of suche    
thinges1 as many men doe4  ,for in suche
 case1 a man would weene1 they seeke1   

either to contend  with the ,company1   
7if they be1 or will take uppon them to 
bee1 as good  ,gentlemen1  of as muche  
wealthe and worthines1 as they bee37 or 
elles  to overcrowe them1 7if they live 
in meaner condition and calling1  then  
they doe74 ,and as it were to upbraide  
them1 their poore and base  condition of
 life4    ,a man must neither embase1   
nor exalte him selfe to muche out of    
measure3 but rather bury in silence some
 parte of his merits1 then  arrogate to 
muche unto him4 ,bycause ,goodnes it    
selfe1 when it excedeth  muche1 is ever 
envide of some4 ,and you may be sure1   
they that embase  them selves thus      
beyond measure1 refusing that worship   
and honour  that is but duely their owne
 of very right3 shewe more pride in this
  contempte1 then they that usurpe those
 things1 that are not so due unto  them4
 ,so yt a man perchaunce1 might saye1   
,giotto hath not deserved  those        
,commendations yt some beleve1 in yt he 
refused to be called  ,master3 being not

 only a master but without doubt a      
singular and  cunning master in his art 
in those dayes4 ,but be it blame1 or    
praise  yt he deserved3 it is most sure1
 he that refuseth that which every  man 
els doth hunt for3 sheweth therin1 he   
reproveth or contemneth the  common     
opinion of men4 ,and1 to contemne the   
honour  renowne1 which  other men gape  
for so much1 is but to glorie and       
magnifie him selfe  above other4 ,for   
asmuche as there is no man 7without he  
be mad7 will  refuse and reject things  
that be deare and of price3 unles hee be
  suche1 as hathe plenty and store of   
those deare and deintie things4    ,wee 
must not boast of those good things that
 be in us1 nor set them to  light3 for  
in ye one1 wee doe upbraide men their   
faults3 ,in the other1  wee scorne to   
muche their vertues4 ,but it behoveth   
every man to speake  his owne praise1 as
 litle as hee may4 ,and if occasion     
drive him unto  it3 it shalbe good1     
modestly to speake the truethe1 as ,i   

have told you  before4    ,and          
therefore1 they that desire to doe men a
 pleasure3 must needes  leave one       
faulte1 yt is to common with all men3   
they must not shewe  them selves so     
afraide and fearefull to speake their   
mindes1 when a  man dothe aske their    
advise4 ,for1 it is a deadly paine to   
here them1   specialy if they be men1 in
 ye ,judgement of ye world1 of good     
understanding and wisedome4 ,what a     
fetching about is this1 ere they  come  
to ye mater8 ,sir ,i beseche you pardon 
mee1 if ,i doe not say well4  ,i will   
speake like a gros man as ,i am3  grosly
 according to my pore  skil4 ,and ,sir1 
,i am sure you will but mocke me for it4
 ,but yet1 to obey  you3  they drawe    
their words forth so long1  put them    
selves to suche  paine3 yt1 while these 
ceremonies be a doing1 ye hardest       
question  yt is1 might have bin         
determined with fewer words and shorter 
time3  bycause they cannot get out of   
these protestations1 when they bee in4  

,they bee also very tedious to men1 and 
their conversation  maners  are very    
troublesome3 whoe shewe too base and    
abject a minde in their  doings4 ,and   
where the chefest and highest place1 is 
apparantly due unto  them3 they will    
ever creepe downe to the lowest4 ,and it
 is a spitefull  buisines to thrust them
 up3 ,for they will straite jogge backe 
againe1  like a resty ,jade1 or a ,nagge
 that startleth a side at his shadowe4  
,so  that1 there is muche a dooe wt     
them1 when wee meete at a doore4 ,for   
they will not 7for all you can dooe7 in 
any case enter before you1 but  so      
traverse their ground1 go backe1 and so 
fray and defend with their  armes and   
their handes3 that at every thirde      
steppe1 a man must be  ready to wage    
battell with them3 and thus they breake 
of1 all solace  and pleasure1 and       
otherwhile1 the buisines they meete     
aboute4    ,and therfore1 ,ceremonies1  
which wee name1 as you heare1 by a      
straunge  terme1 as lacking a worde of  

our owne1 bycause our elders1 having no 
knowledge of those superstitious        
fashions1 coulde not well give them  a  
proper name4 ,ceremonies1 ,i saye1 7in  
my ,judgement17 differ not much  from   
lies  dreames1 for their own very       
vainesse it selfe4 ,so that wee  may    
couple and joine them together in this  
our treatise1 sithe occasion  serves so 
fitt to speake of them here4 ,as a good 
man hath often shewed  me3 those        
solemnities that church men doe use at  
their ,altars1 and in  their divine     
service bothe to ,god and his holy      
things1 are properly  called            
,ceremonies3 but after1 men did begin1  
to reverence eche other  with curious   
entertainements1 more then were         
convenient1 and would be  called masters
 and ,lords1 amongest them selves1      
yealding bending1 and  bowing their     
bodies1 in token of reverence one to    
another1 uncovering  their heads1 using 
highe titles and ,styles of honour1 and 
kissing their  hands as if they were    

hollye things3 some body1 by like       
considering  all these things well1 and 
finding these newe founde curious       
follies  without any name3 thought good 
to ,christen and call them ,ceremonies1 
but sure in a jest as ,i take it3 as to 
be mery and make good cheare1 we  terme 
it in sport1 a triumph3 which custome1  
no doubt1 tooke not his  being at us1   
but elles where1 as barbarous  straunge3
 and not long  since1 from whence ,i    
knowe not1 transported into ,italie3    
whose deedes  being wretched1 and       
effects base and vile1 hath gotten      
encrease and  honor1 in vaine woords    
alone1 and superfluous titles4          
,ceremonies then1 if we consider well   
their intents that use them3  are but   
vaine shewes of honour and reverence1   
towardes him to whome  they be doone3   
framed of semblance and wordes touching 
their titles  and courtious offers4 ,i  
say vaine3 ,in that we honour men to    
their  face1 whome we reverence not in  
deede1 but otherwhile contemne4 ,and    

nevertheles1 because we may not go      
against custome1 wee give them these    
titles3 ,the most honorable ,lord suche 
a one3 the ,noble ,lord suche a  one4   
,and so otherwhile wee offer them our   
humble service3 whome wee  could better 
unserve then serve1  commaund then doe  
them any duety4    ,then not ,lesinges  
alone1 but also ,treacheries and        
,treasons1 shalbe  called ,ceremonies4  
,but because these wordes and these     
titles above  rehersed1 have lost their 
strength3 and waste1 7as a man may say  
of  ,iron7 their temper1 wt such        
continuall occupying of it as it we  doe
 use3 we must not so precisely way them 
as other words1 nor so  strictly        
construe the meaning of them4 ,and1 that
 this is true1 that  which allwayes     
happens to all men1 dothe shewe it      
plaine inoughe4  ,for if wee meete with 
a man1 we never sawe before3 with whome1
 uppon  some occasion1 it behoves us to 
talke3 without examining wel his        
worthines1 most commonly1 that wee may  

not offend in to litle1 we give  him to 
much1 and call him ,gentleman1 and      
otherwhile ,sir1 althoughe he  be but   
some ,souter or ,barbar1 or other suche 
stuffe3 and all bycause  he is appareled
 neate1 somewhat gentleman like4    ,and
 as men in times past1 were wont to have
 under the ,privilege of  the ,pope     
,emperour1 peculiar  distinct titles of 
honour1 which  might not be untouched1  
without doing wrong to the privileged   
men3  nor againe attributed  geven      
without a scorne1 to them that were no  
such privileged persones3 ,so at this   
daye1 wee must more freely use  those   
titles1 and the other significations of 
honour1 like to those  titles3 bycause  
,custome the mightiest ,lorde1 hathe    
largely therewith1  privileged men of   
our time4    ,this use and custome1 then
 so faire and gallant without1 is       
altogether  vaine within1 and consisteth
 in semblance without effect1  in wordes
  without meaning4 ,but this            
notwithstanding1 it is not lawful for us

 to  chaunge it3 but rather1 bycause it 
is not our fault1 but the fault of  our 
time1 wee are bounde to followe it3 but 
yet wee must discretely doe  it4    ,so 
that wee are to noate1 that ,ceremonies 
are used1 either for a  ,profit1 or for 
a ,vanitie1 or for a ,duetie4 ,and every
 lie that is told  for a mans private   
profit3 is a deceite1 a sinne1 and a    
dishonest  parte3 for1 in what so ever  
it bee1 ,a man can never honestly lie4  
,and this is a common fault with        
flatterers1 that counterfet them selves 
to be our friendes1 and apply them      
selves ever to our desiers1 what  soever
 they be3 not bycause wee would have it 
so1 but to the ende  wee should doe them
 some pleasure1 for it4 ,and this is not
 to please  us1 but to deceive us4 ,and 
albeit this kind of fault be1           
peradventure1  by reason of custome     
sufferable3 yet notwithstanding bycause 
of it  selfe1 it is fowle and hurtefull1
 it ill becomes a gentle man to doe  it4
 ,for it is no honestie to seeke a      

pleasure by the hurt of another4  ,and  
if lies and false flatteries1 may bee   
termed ,ceremonies 7as ,i  have saide   
before37 so oft1 as we use them for     
respect of our gain   profit3 so oft wee
 doe hazard our good name and credite3  
so that this  consideration alone1 might
 move us well to leave all ,ceremonies1 
and  use them no more4    ,it resteth   
now that ,i speake of those yt bee done 
of ,dutie1 and of  those that be done of
 a ,vainesse4 ,as touching ye first1 ,we
 must not  leave them undone in any     
wise4 ,for he that faileth to doe them1 
dothe  not onely displease1 but doth a  
wrong to him1 to whome they be due4 ,and
  many times it chaunceth ye men come to
 daggers drawing1 even for this         
occasion alone1 that one man hath not   
done the other1 that worship and  honour
 uppon the way1 that he ought4 ,for to  
saye a trueth ,the power of  custome is 
great  of much force1 7as ,i said7 and  
would be taken for a  lawe1 in these    
cases4 ,and that is the cause we say3   

,you3 to every one1  that is not a man  
of very base calling1 and in suche kinde
 of speach  wee yealde such a one1 no   
maner of courtesie of our owne4 ,but if 
wee  say3 ,thou3 to suche a one1 then   
wee disgrace him and offer him outrage  
and wronge3 and by suche speach1 seeme  
to make no better reconing of  him1 then
 of a knave and a clowne4    ,and       
although the times past1 and other      
countries1 have used other  maners3 let 
us yet1 keepe ourselves to our owne3    
,and let not us dispute  the matter1    
which is the better of twaine4 ,for wee 
must observe1 not  those1 that we ,judge
 in our owne conceits to be good3 but   
suche1 as  be currant by custome1  used 
in our owne time3 as lawes1 which we be 
bound to keepe1 thoughe they be not all 
of the best1 till suche time1  as the   
magistrates1 the ,prince1 or they that  
have power to amend them1  have chaunged
 them to better4    ,so that ,it behoves
 us1 hedefully to marke the doings and  
speache1  wherewith daily practise and  

custome1 wonteth to receave1 salute1    
name in our owne country1 all sortes and
 kinds of people1 and in  all our       
familiar communication with men1 let us 
use the same4 ,and  notwithstanding the 
,admerall 7as peradventure the maner of 
his time  was suche7 in his talke with  
,peter the ,king of ,aragon1 did many   
times3  ,thou him3 ,let us yet saye to  
our ,king3 ,your majestie3 and your     
highnes3  aswell in speache as in       
writing4 ,and if they have followed the 
use of  their time3 then let not us     
breake the fashions of ours4 ,and these 
doe  ,i call ,duetifull ,ceremonies1    
bycause they proceede not1 as we would1 
or of our owne free willes3 but are     
laide uppon us by the ,lawes3 ,i  meane1
 ,common custome4    ,and in suche      
things1 as carry no evill meaning in    
them1 but rather some  face of          
courtesie3 reason would and commaundeth1
 we shoulde rather  observe common      
,custome1 then dispute and lay the lawe 
for them4    ,and albeit1 to kisse in   

shewe of reverence1 of very right       
appertaineth  to the reliques of ,saints
 and there holy matters3 yet if it bee  
the  maner of your country1 at parting1 
to say3 ,signori1 ,io vi bascio la      
mano4 ,or3 ,io son vostro servidore3 ,or
 els3 vostro schiavo in catena3  you    
must not disdaine it1 more then other4  
,but1 ,in farewelles and  writings1 you 
must salute and take leave1 not as      
reason1 but as custome  will have you3  
and not as men wont in times past1 or   
should doe3 but as  men use at this day3
 for it is a chorlishe maner to say3    
,what greate  gentleman is he ,i pray   
you1 that ,i must master him3 ,or3 is he
 becom  master parson1 that ,i must     
kisse his hands8 for he that is wont to 
be  7,sird7 and likewise 7,sirreth7     
other3 may thinke you disdaine him1 and 
use some outrage unto him1 when you call
 him to his face1 by his bare  name1 and
 give him no addition4    ,and these    
termes of ,seignory1 service1  duetye1  
and such other  like unto these1 as ,i  

have saide3 have lost a greate parte of 
their  harshnes1 and 7as hearbes long   
steepte in the water7 are sweetened1    
and made softe and tender1 by reason of 
muche speache in mens mouthes1  and     
continuall use to speake them4 ,so that 
we must not abhorre them1 as  some rude 
and rusticall fellowes1 full of foolishe
 simplicitie1 doe3  that would faine    
beginne the letters we write to ,kinges 
and ,emperours  after this sort1 vz4 ,if
 thou and thy children be in healthe it 
is well3  ,i am also in healthe3 saying1
 that suche was the beginning of the    
letters1 the ,latins did write to the   
magistrates of ,rome4 ,if men should    
live by their measure1 and go backe to  
those fashions and maners1 our  first   
fathers did use3 the worlde then by     
litle and litle1 would come  so about1  
that we should feede uppon acornes      
againe4    ,and in these ,duetifull     
,ceremonies1 there be also certain rules
 and  precepts1 we must observe3 that   
wee may not bee touched wt ,vainesse    

and ,pride4 ,and first of all1 wee must 
consider the country where wee  doe     
live4 ,for all customes be not currant a
 like in all countreys4  ,and           
peradventure that which they use in     
,naples1 which is a ,citye  replenished 
with gentlemen1 of good houses1 and     
,lordes of greate power1  were not so   
fitte for ,florens and ,luke3 ,which are
 inhabited1 for the  most part1 with    
,merchants and plaine gentlemen1 without
 any ,prince1  ,marques1 or ,barone     
amongest them4 ,so that the brave and   
,lordelike  manners of the gentlemen of 
,naples transported to ,florence3 should
  be but waste1 and more then needes3   
like a tall mans gowne cast over  a     
dwarfe3 as also the manners of ,florence
 shoulde be to pinchinge  and straite1  
for the ,noble natures and mindes of the
 gentlemen of  ,naples4 ,and although   
the gentlemen of ,venice use great      
embracings and  entertainementes amongst
 themselves1 and fawne without measure  
the one  on the other1 by reason of     

their offices1 degrees and favours they 
looke to finde when they meete and      
assemble to choose their officers3  yet 
for all this1 it is not convenient1 that
 the good men of ,rouigo1 or  the       
,citizens of ,asolo1 should use the like
 solemnities1 embraceings and           
entertainements one to another1 haveing 
no such kinde of cause amongst  them3   
,albeit all that same countrie 7if ,i   
bee not deceived7 is falne a  litle1    
into these kinde of follies1 as over    
carelesse and apt inough  by nature1 or 
rather learning those maners of ,venice 
their ,lady and  ,mistris3 because      
,everie man gladly seeketh to tread the 
steps of his  better3 although there be 
no reason for it4    ,moreover we must  
have a regarde to the time1 to the age1 
and the  condition of him1 to whom we   
use these ceremonies1 and likewise      
respect  our owne calling3 and with men 
of credite maintaine them3 but wt men   
of small account cut them of cleane1 or 
at least1 abridge them as muche  as wee 

may1  rather give them a becke then a   
due garde3 ,which the  courtiers in     
,rome can very well skill to doe4       
,but in some cases these ,ceremonies be 
very combersome to a mans  busines1 and 
very tedious3 as ,cover your head1 sayes
 the ,judge1  yt is busied wt causes1   
and is scanted of time to dispatche     
them4  ,and this fellow so full of these
 ,ceremonies1 after a number of legges  
and shuflinge curtesis1 aunswers againe3
 ,sir ,i am very well thus4  ,but sayes 
the ,judge againe1 ,cover your head ,i  
say4 ,yet this good  fellow tourning    
twise or thrise to  fro1 making lowe    
conges downe to  the grounde wt muche   
reverence and humilitie1 aunswers him1  
still3 ,i  beseache your worship1 let me
 doe my duetie4 ,this busines and       
trouble  lasteth so long1  so muche time
 is trifled3 that the ,judge might very 
nere have dispatched all his busines    
within that space4 ,then1 although  it  
be every honest mans parte1 and the     
duety of every meaner body1 to  honour  

the ,judges1 and men yt be called to    
worship  honour3 yet1  where time will  
not beare it3 it is a very troublesome  
thing to use it1  and it must be        
eschewed1 or measured with reason4      
,neither be ye self same ,ceremonies    
semely for young men1 respecting  their 
,age3 yt ould men doe use together4 ,nor
 yet can it becom men of  meane and base
 condition1 to use the very same1 yt    
gentlemen  greate  men may use one to   
another4 ,and if wee marke it well1 we  
shall find1  yt the greatest1 ye best   
men1  men of most valour1 doe not       
alwayes  use ye most ,ceremonies them   
selves1 nor yet love nor looke a man    
should make many goodly curtsies unto   
them1 as men that can ill spend  their  
thoughts one matters so vaine4          
,neither must handy crafts men1 nor men 
of base condition1 buisie them  selves  
to much1 in over solemne ,ceremonies to 
greate men1 and ,lordes3  it is not     
lookt for in suche4 ,for they disdaine  
them1 more then allowe  them3 because it

 seemes that in such1 they seeke1       
looke1 rather for  obedience and duetie1
 then honour4 ,and therefore it is a    
foule faulte  in a servaunt1 to offer   
his master his service3 for he counts it
 his  shame1  he thinks the servant doth
 make a doubt1 whether he is master  or 
no2 as if it were not in him to imploy  
him1  commaund him too4  ,these kinde of
 ,ceremonies would be used frankely4    
,for1 ,what a man  dothe of duetie1 is  
taken for a debte1 and hee finds him    
selfe litle  beholding to him that doth 
it4 ,but he that dothe more then he is  
bound  to3 it seems he parteth with     
somewhat1 and that makes men to love    
him1  and to commende him for a liberall
 man4 ,and ,i remember mee well1 ,i have
  hearde it saide1 that a worthy        
,graecian a greate versifier1 was ever  
wont to saye3 that ,he that could skill 
to entertaine men with a small          
adventure1 made a greate gaine4    ,you 
shall then use youre ,ceremonies1 as the
 tailer shapes his garments1  rather to 

large then to litle3 but yet not so1    
that hee cutteth one  hose large inough 
to make a cloke4 ,and if thou doe use in
 this point1  some litle gentle         
behaviour1 to suche as be meaner then   
thy selfe3  thou shalt be counted lowly4
 ,and if thou doe asmuche to thy        
betters3  thou shalt bee saide a        
,gentleman well taught1 and courtious4  
,but hee  that dothe herin to muche1 and
 is over lavishe1 shalbe blamed as vaine
  and light3 and perhaps worse thought  
of too3 counted a busie body1 a  fidging
 fellowe1 and in wise mens sight1 a     
flatterer3 which vice1 our  elders have 
called1 7if ,i doe not forget me7 dowble
 diligence4 ,and  there is no faulte in 
the worlde1 more to bee abhorred1 or yt 
worsse  beseemes a gentleman1 then this4
 ,and this is the thirde maner of       
,ceremonies1 which simply procedeth of  
our owne will1 and not of custome4      
,let us then remember1 that ,ceremonies1
 7as ,i have alwayes said7 were  not so 
necessarie by nature1 but a man might   

doe well inough without  them3 ,as for  
example1 our countrie lived 7it is not  
long since7 in  maner cleane without    
any4 ,but other mens diseases have      
infected us1  with these infirmities and
 many mo4 ,so that1 custome and use     
observed3  the rest that is more1 is but
 waste3 and such a sufferable leesing1  
as  if it be more in deede then is in   
use1 it is not only unsufferable1 but   
forbidden3 and so uppon1 the matter1 a  
cold and unsavourie thing to  noble     
mindes1 that cannot brouse uppon        
shrubbes and shewes4    ,and you shall  
understand1 that trusting my owne skill 
but little1 in  writing this present    
treatise3 ,i thought good to consult    
with many1 and  to take the ,judgement  
of better learned men then my selfe4    
,and this  in my reading ,i finde4      
,there was a ,king1 they call him       
,oedipus3 being  banished and driven out
 of his countrie 7uppon what occasion ,i
 know  not7 he fled to ,king ,theseus at
 ,athens1 the better to save him selfe  

and his life1 from his enemies1 that    
mainely pursued him4 ,this ,oedipus  now
 comming before the presence of         
,theseus1 by good chaunce hearing  his  
daughter speake1 7whome he knew by her  
voice1 for he was blind and  could not  
beholde her with his eyes7 he was so    
presently striken with  joy1 that1 not  
tarying to doe his allegeaunce and      
duetie to the ,king1  he did presently  
embrace1  make much of his daughter     
before him3 his  fatherly affection so  
led him1 and rulde him so4 ,but in the  
end finding  his fault1 and better      
advising himselfe of his doings3 he     
would needs  excuse it to ,theseus1     
humbly prayd his grace to pardon his    
folly4 ,the  good and wise ,king1 cut of
 his talke1 and bad him leave his       
excuses1  and thus saide unto him3      
,comfort thy selfe1 ,oedipus1 and bee   
not  dismayd at that thou hast done4    
,for ,i will not have my life honoured  
with other mens woordes1 but with my    
owne deedes4 ,which sentence a man      

should have alwayes in mind4    ,and    
albeit men be well pleased1 that men doe
 give them worship   honour3 yet when   
they find them selves cuningly courted1 
they be soone  weary of it1 and also    
disdaine it4 ,for these glaverings1 or  
flatteries  ,i should say1 to amend     
their knaveries  falsehoodes1 have this 
fault  withall3 that these glavering    
fellowes doe plainly shewe1 they count  
him1 whome they court in this sorte1 but
 a vaine1 and arrogant bodie1  an asse  
of grose capacitie1 and so simple1 yt it
 should be an easie  matter to baite him
 and take him too4 ,and these ,vaine and
 ,curious  ,ceremonies1 besides that    
they be superfluous3 they beare with all
 a  shape of flattery1 so slenderly     
covered1 that every man doth openly see 
them1 and know them plaine3 in suche    
sorte1 that they that doe them1  to the 
end to make a gaine1 besides that ill   
that is in them1 wherof  ,i spake       
before3 shewe them selves also1         
gentlemen ill taught1 without  good     

maner or any honest fashion4    ,but    
there is another sorte of ,ceremonious  
people1 who make it an arte  and        
merchandise1 and keepe a booke and a    
reconing of it4 ,one these  men 7they   
say7 they must smile1 on such men they  
must laughe3 and  ye better man shall   
sit in the chair1 and the other uppon a 
lowe  stoole3 which superstitious       
,ceremonies1 ,i beleve1 were transported
  out of ,spaine into ,italie4 ,but our 
country1 hath geven them but colde      
entertainement1 and as yet they have    
taken but slender roote here3 for  this 
precise difference of worship1 and      
gentry1 is not liked of1 with  us4 ,and 
therefore it is but ill maner1 for a man
 to make him selfe  ,judge1 which is the
 better man4    ,but it is much worse   
for a man to make a sale of his         
,ceremonies and  entertainments1 7after 
ye maner of harlots7 as ,i have seene   
many  gentlemen doe in the court1 geving
 good wordes and faire countenaunces    
for a rewarde and recompence1 of the    

goods and the time1 their  servaunts    
have spent in their service4    ,and    
sure they that take a pleasure to use   
over many ,ceremonies1 more  then neede3
 shewe they doe it uppon a lustines and 
bravery1 as men that  have nothing elles
 in them of any valour4    ,and bycause 
these follies are learned wt ease       
inough1 and carry  withall a litle faire
 glose in shewe3 they bestowe all their 
whole  mindes none other waye4 ,but     
grave matters they can not abide to     
weelde1  as things to farre above their 
reache3 and coulde finde in their harts 
to dwell in these toyes and trifles1 as 
men whose capacitie conceiveth  nought  
of ,importaunce3 like tender milkesops  
that can beare no brunt3  or that1      
beside a glorious outside1 have not     
mettall inough in them to  abide a flea 
biting4 ,and therfore1 they could wishe 
it were so3 that  these entertainments  
and acquaintance with men1 should go no 
further  then the first sight4 ,and of  
these there bee an infinite number4     

,and some againe be to full of words1   
and abound to muche in curtious         
gestures to cover and hide the defects  
and faults of their treacheries1  and   
their vile  base natures3 ,for they see1
 if they should be as baren   rude in   
their woords1 as they be in their deeds 
their doings1 men  would in no case     
abide them4 ,and to saye a trueth1 yow  
shall finde yt  one of these two causes1
 drawe most men one1 to use these wast  
and  needles ,ceremonies1 and nothing   
els3 which lightly most men cannot away 
withall1 bycause they be hindered by    
them1  their meanes1 to live as  they   
would1 and lose their libertie3 whiche a
 man dothe preferre above  anything     
ells4    ,wee must not speake ill of    
other men1 nor of their doings3         
althoughe it  plainely appere1 that men 
do willingly lend good eare to heare it1
 as  easily moved therto1 by ye nature  
of malice and envy1 that pines at  our  
,neighbours prosperity and rising to    
worship  honour3 for at length  men will

 eschewe the acquaintaunce of           
,slaunderous people1 as much as  they   
shunne the ,oxe1 yt goreth with his     
horns1 or strikes wt his  feete3 making 
their reconing1 that what they tell them
 of us1 asmuche  they will tell us1 of  
them4    ,and some ther be1 that so     
quarel at every word1 question1 and     
wrangle1  that they shew they have litle
 skill in other mens natures3 for1      
,every man desireth the victory should  
go one his side3 and hates it  asmuche1 
to be mastered in words1 as to be       
vanquished in any other acte  that he   
dothe4 ,so yt1 willfully to overthwart a
 man1 it workethe no  ,love and good    
will3 but rather displeasure1 rancoure  
and malice4 ,and  therfore1 he that     
sekes to be well thought of1 and would  
be taken for  a pleasaunt and good      
,companion1 must not so redily use these
 speaches3  ,it was not so3 ,and1 ,nay3 
it is as ,i tell you4 ,i wil lay a wager
 with  you3 ,but he must rather take    
pains1 to apply himself to other mens   

minds concerning such things1 as have   
matter of small importaunce3 ,by  cause 
the victorye1 in such cases1 is         
daungerous3 for1 the gaininge  the      
cause1 in trifling questions1 dooth     
often loose the ,love of a  faithfull   
friend4 ,and men are so farre out of    
love  liking1 of such  hot fellowes3    
that they will by no meanes growe       
acquainted with suche1  least they be   
driven every hower to bralle1 to chide1 
and to fighte  with them for it4 ,and   
suche kinde of people doe purchase these
 names3  ,maister ,uniciguerra3 ,or1    
,sir ,contraponi3 ,or1 ,sir ,tuttesalle3
 ,and  sometime3 il ,dottor suttile4    
,and if you chaunce otherwhile1 to be   
intreated of the company to  speake your
 mind3 ,i would have you doe it after a 
gentle sort1 without  shewing your selfe
 so greedie to carry the bucklers away1 
as if you  would eate them up for haste4
 ,but you must ,leave to every man his  
parte3 ,and bee it right or wronge1     
consent to the minds of the most1  or   

the most importunate3 and so leave the  
fielde unto them3 that some  other1 and 
not your selfe1 may beate and sweat1 and
 chace in the  winning of the cause4    
,for these quarelous contentions1 bee   
foule and  ill favoured fashions for    
gentlemen to use3 and they get them ill 
will  and displeasure of all men for it3
 and they bee uncomely for their owne   
unseemelines1 which of it selfe         
offendeth every good honest minde1 as   
it may chaunce you shall heare          
hereafter4    ,but the common fault of  
men is such1 and eche man is so infected
 with  this selfe love and liking of him
 selfe3 that he hath no respect or  care
 to please any man ells4    ,and to     
shewe them selves fine headed1 of muche 
understanding1 and wise3  they counsell1
 reprove1 dispute1 and bralle1 to       
daggers drawing1 and  allowe nothing els
 but that they say them selves4    ,to  
offer advise1 unrequested3 what is it   
els but to vaunt youre selfe  wiser then
 he is1 whom you do counsell3 nay rather

 it is a plaine  checke to him1 for his 
,ignoraunce and folly4 ,and therfore1   
you must not  do so1 with all your      
acquaintance generally3 but only with   
your very  friendes1 or suche whom you  
are to governe  rule3 or els1 when a man
  hapely standes in daunger  perill1 how
 muche a straunger so ever he  be4 ,but 
in our common ,acquaintance and         
conversation1 ,let us not busy  our     
selves1 and medle to muche with other   
mens doings4 ,in which fault  many doe  
fall3 but most of all1 the men of least 
understanding4 ,for1  ,men of grose     
capacities consider but litle3 ,and they
 take no longe time  to debate with them
 selves1 as men that have litle busines 
to doe4    ,but how so ever it be1 hee  
that offereth and geveth his counsell3  
geves  us to thinke1 hee hathe this     
conceite of him selfe3 that all the witt
  is in him1 and other poore men have   
none at all4    ,and sure there bee     
some1 that stand so muche in conceite of
 their wit3  that they will be in maner1

 at warres1 with him1 that wil not      
follow  the counsell they give them4    
,and thus they will say3 ,very well3 a  
poore mans counsell will not be taken3  
suche a one will doe as he list3  suche 
a one geves no heede to my wordes4 ,as  
though there were not more  ,arrogancie 
in thee1 that sekest to bring a man to  
followe thy ,counsell3  then there is in
 him1 that followes his owne advise4    
,and they doe also make the like fault1 
yt take uppon them to reprove  and      
correct mens faults1 and to geve a      
definite sentence in all things1  and   
lay the lawe to all men4 ,suche a thing 
would not be done3 ,you  spake suche    
woordes3 ,doe not so3 say not so3 ,the  
wine that you drinke  is not good for   
you3 it would be red wine4 ,you should  
use suche an  ,electuarie1 and suche    
pilles3 ,and they never leave to reprove
 and  correct4 ,and let us passe that   
over1 that otherwhile1 they busy them   
selves so much1 to purge other mens     
grounds3 that their owne is  overgrowen1

 and full of thornes and nettles4 ,for  
it is a mervailous  paine unto them1 to 
heare one that side4    ,and as there be
 few or none1 whose minds can frame1 to 
spend their  life with a ,physition1 a  
,confessour1 and muche lesse a ,judge   
that hath  jurisdiction and power to    
controwle and correct all criminall     
faultes3  so is ther not one1 that can  
take any pleasure to live1 or make      
himself  familiar with suche ,censors3  
so hard1 and severe4 ,for1 every man    
loveth  libertye3 and they woulde robbe 
us of it1 and get to be our masters4    
,so that it is no good manner to be so  
redie to corect and give rules  unto    
men3 we must geve ,scholemasters and    
,fathers leave to do that4 ,and  yet    
that notwithstanding1 experience doth   
shewe1 the childeren and  scholers both1
 do often hide them selves from them1   
you see4    ,i doe not allow1 that a man
 should scorne or scoffe at any man1    
what so  ever he be3 no not his very    
enimy1 what displeasure so ever he beare

  him3 for1 it is a greater signe of    
contempt and disdaine1 to scorne a  man1
 then to do him an open wrong3 forasmuch
 as wrongs may be done1  either of      
choler1 or of som covetous minde or     
other4 ,and ther is no man  will take a 
displeasure with that1 or for that1 he  
doth not set by3 nor  yet covet that    
thing1 he doth altogether contemne4 ,so 
that1 a man doth  make some accompt of  
him he dothe wronge3 but of him that he 
scoffes  and scornes1 he makes no       
reconing at all1 or as litle as may be4 
,and the ,nature and effect of a scorne1
 is properly to take a  contentation and
 pleasure to do another man shame and   
villany3 thoughe  it do our selves no   
good in the world4 ,so that1 good maner 
honesty1  would us beware we scorne no  
man in any case3 wherin they be much to 
be blamed1 that reprove men those       
blemishes they have in their person1    
either in woords1 as ,master ,forese da 
,rabatta did1 laughing at the           
countenaunce of ,master ,giotta3 or in  

deeds1 as many doe1 counterfeting  those
 that stutter1 haulte1 or be crookte    
shoulderd4 ,and likewise1  they that    
scoffe at any man1 that is deformed1 ill
 shapen1 leane1  litle1 or a dwarfe1 ar 
much to be blamed for it3 or1 that make 
a gibing  and jesting at such follies as
 another man speaketh1 or the woordes   
that escape him by chaunce3 and with    
all1 have a sporte and a pleasure  to   
make a man blush3 all these spitefull   
behaviours and fashions1  worthely      
deserve to be hated1 and make them that 
use them1 unworthy to  beare the name of
 an honest gentleman4    ,and such as   
use to jest at a man1 be very like unto 
these3 ,i meane  them that have a good  
sport to mocke and beguile men1 not in  
spite or  scorne1 but on a meriment     
alone4 ,and you shall understand1 ,there
 is  no difference betweene a scorne and
 a mocke3 but the purpose alone  and    
intent a man hath1 in the meaning the   
one or the other4 ,for a man  mockes and
 laughes otherwhile1 in a sport and a   

pastime3 but his scorne  is ever in a   
rage and disdaine4 ,although in common  
speache and writing1  wee take the one  
woorde sometime for the other4 ,but ,he 
that doth scorne  a man3 feeleth a      
contentation in the shame he hath done  
him3 ,and hee  that dothe mocke1 or but 
laughe3 taketh no contentation in that  
he hath  done3 but a sport1 to be merry 
passe the time away3 where it would  be1
 both a greefe and a sorrow1 perchaunce1
 unto him1 to see that man  receave any 
shame1 by any thing he said or did unto 
him4    ,and althoughe ,i profited      
litle1 in my ,grammar in my youthe2 yet 
,i  remember that ,mitio1 who loved     
,aeschines so muche1 that he him selfe  
had wonder at it2 yet other while1 toke 
a sporte  a pleasure to mocke  him3 as  
when he said to him selfe3 ,i will go to
 give him a mocke3 so  that1 ,i must    
inferre1 that the selfe same thing1 done
 to the very selfe  same body3 according
 to the intent of him that doth it1 may 
be either a  mocke or scorne4    ,and   

bycause our purpose1 cannot be plainely 
knowne unto other men3 it  shall not be 
good for us to use such parts1 as bring 
men in doubt and  suspicion1 what our   
intent and meaning is in them3 but      
rather let us  eschewe them1 then seeke 
to be counted ,jesters4 ,for1 ,it many  
times  chaunceth1 in boording and       
,jesting1 one tackes in sporte1 the     
other  strikes againe in earnest3  thus 
from playing1 they come to fraying4     
,so1 he that is familiarly mockte in    
pastime1 recons it1 otherwhile1  to be  
done to his shame  dishonour1 and therat
 he takes a disdaine4  ,besides this1 ,a
 mocke is no better1 then a deceite4    
,and naturally1 it  greveth every man to
 erre and be deceived4 ,so that1 many   
,reasons ther  be to prove1 ,that ,he   
that seekes to purchase goodwill1 and be
 well  thought of3 must not make him    
selfe to cunning in mockes and ,jestes4 
,it is very true1 we are not able1 in no
 wise1 to leade this paineful  life1    
altogether without some pleasure and    

solace3 ,and bycause ,jestes  do geve us
 some sporte1 and make us merry1 and so 
consequently refreash  our spirits3 we  
love them that be pleasaunt1 merry      
conceited1 and  full of solace4 ,so that
 a body would thinke1 ,i should rather  
persuade  the contrarie3 ,i meane1 ,i   
shoulde say3 ,it is convenient and meete
 in  company1 to use prety mockes1 and  
otherwhile some ,jestes and taunts4     
,and without doubt1 they that can stint 
after a friendly and gentle  sort1 be   
muche more made of1 and better beloved  
then they that cannot  skill or have no 
wit to doe it4 ,howbeit1 it is needeful 
in this1 to  have a respect to many     
things4    ,and forasmuche as it is the 
intent of him that doth ,jest3 to make a
  sport and pastime at his faulte1 whome
 he doth love and esteeme1 and of  whom 
he doth make more then a common account3
 it must be well lookte  to1 that the   
fault1 wherin his friend hath fallen1 be
 suche1 as he may  sustaine no slaunder 
or shame1 or any harme by any talke or  

,jeste he  makes uppon it3 otherwise1   
his skil doth ill serve him1 to make a  
good  difference betweene a pleasaunt   
,jest1 and a very plaine wronge4    ,and
 there be some men1 so short  so testy1 
that you must1 in no wise1  be merry1   
nor use any jesting with them4 ,and that
 can ,biondello well  tell1 by ,maister 
,philippo ,argenti in the gallery of    
,caviccioli4    ,and moreover1 ,it      
cannot be good to jeaste in matters of  
weite1 and  muche lesse in matters of   
shame4 ,for1 men will weene that wee    
have  a good sporte 7as the common      
saying is7 to bragge and boast in our   
evill3 as it is said1 the ,lady         
,philippe of ,prato1 took a singular    
pleasure and contentation in the        
pleasaunt  prety aunswer she made1 to   
excuse her loose and wanton life4 ,and  
therefore1 ,i cannot thinke that  ,lupo 
of ,uberti did any thing extenuat or    
lessen his shame3 but rather  increaste 
it greater1 by the ,jeste that hee made 
to excuse his faulte1  and qualifye the 

opinion of his cowardly minde4 ,for1    
where he might  have kept him selfe safe
 without daunger in the castle of       
,laterin1  wherein he was besieged round
 about1 and shutte up3 hee thought hee  
had plaide the man good inoughe1 in that
 hee could say at the yealding  it up3  
that ,a wolfe doth not love to be       
besieged and shutte up4 ,for1  where it 
is out of time for to laughe1 there to  
use any ,jestes or  daliaunce1 it hath a
 very colde ,grace4    ,and further1 you
 shall understand1 there be some ,jestes
 yt bite1   some yt bite not at all4    
,for the first sorte3 let yt wise       
counsell  that ,lauretta gave for that  
point1 suffice to teach you3 ,that      
,jestes  must bite the hearer like a    
sheepe1 but not like a dogge4 ,for if   
it pinche1 as the bite of a dogge3 it   
shalbe no more a ,jeste but a  wronge4  
,and the lawes almost in all countries1 
will1 that who saith any  villanie unto 
a man1 shalbe grevously punished for it4
 ,and1 perchaunce1  it were not amisse1 

to provide with all1 some sharp         
correction for him1  that should bite in
 way of jesting1 beyond all honest      
measure4 ,but  gentlemen should make    
account1 that the lawe that punisheth   
wronges1  extendeth as farre to jestes1 
and that they should seldome or very    
easily nip or taunt any man4    ,and    
besides all this1 you must understand1  
that a jest1 whether it  bite1 or bite  
not1 if it be not fine  full of wit1 men
 take no  pleasure at al to heare it1   
but rather are wearied with it3 or at   
least  wise1 if they doe laughe1 they   
laughe not at the jest1 but at the      
jester him selfe1 that brings it forthe 
so colde4    ,and bycause1 ,jestes be no
 other thing but deceites3 and deceite  
7as  a thing that is framed of          
subtilenes  craft7 cannot be wrought but
  of men1 that have fine and redy       
wittes1 and very present3 therefore     
they have no grace in men that be rude1 
and of grose understanding3  not yet in 
them alwayes1 that have the best and    

floweing wittes3 as1  peradventure1 they
 did not altogether become ,master ,john
 ,boccaccio4    ,but tauntes and ,jestes
 be a special redines and aptnes of wit1
 and  quicken the motions of the minde3 
wherefore they that have discretion1    
doe not in this point1 consider their   
will1 but their disposition of  nature3 
and after they have once or twise tried 
their wittes1 and finde  them unfit for 
suche purpose3 they leave to labour them
 selves any  further in that kind of    
exercise3 that it may not chaunce unto  
them1  that hapt to the knight of the   
lady ,horetta4 ,and if you looke in to  
the  maners of many1 you shall easily   
see1 this that ,i tell you is true3  ,i 
say1 that ,to ,jest or to taunt1 is not 
currant with every man that  will1 but  
onely with them that can4 ,and there be 
many that for every  purpose1 have in   
their mouth redy1 many of these wordes1 
which wee call  ,bicticcichi3 that have 
no maner of sense or meaning in them4   
,and some1  that use very foolishly and 

fondly to chaunge ,sillables into       
woords4  ,and some you shall heare      
speake and make answer1 otherwise then a
 man  would lightly looke for1 without  
any wit or pleasure in the world in     
their talke4 ,and if you doe aske them1 
,doue e il signore8 they answer  againe4
 ,doue egli ha i piedi3 and likewise ,et
 gli fece unguer le  mani con le grascia
 di signore ,giovan ,boccadoro4 ,doue mi
 manda egli8  ,ad ,arno4 ,io mi vogli   
radere1 ,sarebbe meglio rodere4 ,va     
chiama il  ,barbieri4 ,et perrhe non il 
,barbadomani4 ,al which be to grose1 to 
rude  and to stale3 and such were       
almost1 all the pleasaunt purposes and  
jestes of ,dioneo4    ,but ,i will not  
take uppon me at this time1 to discourse
 of the best  and the worst kinde of    
jestes1 what they be3 aswel for that    
other men  have written treatises       
thereof much more lernedly and better   
then ,i  can3 as also1 bycause jestes   
and tauntes1 have at first sight1 a     
large  and sure proofe of their grace or

 disgrace3 such1 as thou canst not  do  
much amisse in this point1 wtout thou   
stand to much in thy owne  conceite1 and
 think to well of thy selfe3 for where  
the jest is prety  and pleasaunt1 there 
a man straite is merry1 and shewes a    
liking by  laughing1 and makes a kinde  
of admiration of it4 ,so that1 where the
  company geves foorth no liking of thy 
sportes and conceites1 by their  mirthes
 and their laughing3 hould thy selfe    
still then1 and jest no  more4 ,for it  
is thy owne faulte thou must think1 and 
not theirs that  do heare the3 forasmuch
 as the hearers1 as it were allured1    
with the  redie1 pleasaunt1 and subtile 
aunswers or questions 7do what they can1
  will they or nill they7 cannot        
forbeare their laughing1 but laughe in  
spite of their teeth4 ,from whom as from
 our right  lawfull ,judges1 wee  must  
not appeale to our selves4    ,neither  
must a man1 to make other men merie1    
speake foule and filthie  wordes1 nor   
make ilfavoured gestures1 distorting his

 countenaunce1   disfiguring his bodie3 
,for1 ,no man should1 for other mens    
pleasures1  dishonest  dishonour him    
self4 ,it is an arte for a ,juggler     
jester to  use3 it doth not become a    
gentleman to do so4 ,we must not then1  
imitate  ye common and rude behaviours  
of ,dioneo4 ,madonna ,aldruda ,alzate   
,la  coda4    ,nor we must not          
counterfet our selves to be fooles      
unsavorie doltes3  but as time  occasion
 serveth1 tell some pretie tale or some 
news1  never heard of before1 he yt can3
  he yt cannot1 let him hold his  peace4
 ,for1 these be ye partes of ye wit3    
which1 if they be sodain   prety1 give a
 proofe  a shew of ye quicknes of ye    
wit1  the goodnes  of ye maners of him  
yt speakes them3 which thing doth verie 
much  please men  makes them our lovers 
friends4 ,but if they be otherwise1     
they woorke them a contrary effect4     
,for1 a man would weene the asse  would 
play his parte3 or yt some hody dody    
louberly lout would  friske and daunce  

in his doublet4 ,there is another       
pleasaunte kind of  communication1  yt  
is when ye pleasure  grace doth not     
consist  in one merrie conceite alone1  
but in long  continued talke3 which     
would be well disposed1 wel uttered1    
very wel set forth1 to shew ye  maners1 
ye fashions1 ye gestures  behaviours of 
them we speke1 of  so properly  lively1 
as ye hearer should think that he       
heareth them  not rehearsed1 but seeth  
them with his eyes do those very things 
he  heares them to speak of3 which be   
very well observed by the gentlemen  and
 gentlewomen both1 in ,boccace3 although
 yet otherwhile 7if ,i be not  deceived7
 they do affect and counterfet1 more    
then is sightly for a  gentleman or     
gentlewoman to doe1 like to these       
,comedie ,players4 ,and  to doe this    
well1 you must have the matter1 the     
tale1 or the story1  you take uppon you 
to tell1 perfect in your minde3 and     
woordes so redy  and fit1 that you neede
 not say in the end3 ,that thing1 and   

tother  thing3 ,this man1 what doe you  
call him3 ,that matter1 helpe me to     
terme  it3 ,and1 remember what his name 
is4 ,for this is just the trot of  the  
knight of the ,lady ,horetta4 ,and if   
you doe reherse any chaunce1  in which  
there be many speakers3 you must not    
say1 ,he said and he  aunswered3 bycause
 this worde 7,he7 serveth for all men4  
,so that the  hearer that harkens unto  
it1 is easily deceived1 and forgets     
whome you  meane4 ,then1 it behoves them
 that discourse matters at length1 to   
use  proper names1  not to chaunge them 
after4    ,and more over1 a man must    
beware that he say1 not those things1   
which unsaide in silence would make ye  
tale pleasaunt inoughe and              
peradventure1 geve it a better grace to 
leave them out4 ,as to say thus4  ,such 
a one1 that was the sonne of such a one1
 that dwelt in ,cocomer  streete3 do you
 knowe him8 he maried the daughter of   
,gianfigliazzi1 the  leane scragge1 that
 went so much to ,saint ,laraunce4 ,no8 

do not you know  him8 why8 do you not   
remember the goodly straight old man    
that ware  long haire downe to his      
shoulders8 ,for if it were nothing      
materiall  to the tale1 whether this    
chaunce befell him1 or him3 all this    
long  babble1 and fond and folishe      
questions1 were but a tale of a ,tubbe3 
to  no purpose1 more then to weary mens 
eares that harken to it1 and long  to   
understand the end4 ,as peradventure our
 ,dant hath made this fault  otherwhile1
 where he sayeth3      ,and borne my    
parents were of yoare in ,lumbardie1    
,and eke of ,mantuaes soile they both by
 country be4    ,for1 it was to no      
purpose1 whether his mother were borne  
at ,gazuolo1 or  ells at ,cremona4      
,but ,i lerned once of a straunger1 a   
,rethorician very lerned1 a  necessarie 
lesson concerning this poinct3 that ,men
 must dispose and  order their tale1    
first with bynames1 and then rehearse   
them 7as neede  is7 that be proper4     
,for1 the bynames alwayes beare the     

respect of  the persones qualitie3 but  
the other are to be used at the ,fathers
  discretion1 or his whome they         
concerne4    ,and therfore1 that bodie  
whome in your thought and imagination to
  your selfe1 you doe conceive1 might be
 ,lady ,covetousnes her selfe3 in       
speache you shall call ,maister ,erminio
 ,grimaldi3 if suche be the common      
opinion1 the countrie hathe of him4     
,and1 if there be no man in place  where
 you dwell1 so notoriously knowne as    
might serve the turne fit  for your     
purpose3 you must then imagine the case 
further of1 and set  him a name at your 
pleasure4 ,it is very true1 that ,with  
muche greater  pleasure we harken and   
better beholde 7as it were with our     
eyes7 what  soever is told us of men of 
our acquaintance1 if the matter be suche
  as toucheth their maners3 then what we
 doe heare of straungers and men        
unknowne unto us4 ,and the reason is    
this3 when wee doe knowe1 that  suche a 
man is woont to doe so3 we doe easily   

beleeve1 he hathe doone  so indeede3 and
 wee take asmuche knoweledge of him1 as 
if wee were  present3 where it chaunceth
 not so with us1 in the case of a       
straunger4    ,our wordes 7be it in     
longe discourses or other communication7
 ,must  be so plaine1 that all the      
companie may easily understand them3 and
  withall1 for sounde and sense they    
must be apt and sweete4 ,for if you  be 
to use one of these two wordes3 you     
shall rather say1 ,il ventre3  then     
,l',epa4 ,and where your country speache
 will beare it1 you shall  rather say3  
,la ,pancia1 then il ,ventre3 ,or1 il   
,corpo4 ,for1 by these  meanes you      
shalbe understoode1 and not misse       
understoode1 as we  ,florentines say1   
nor be darke and obscure to the hearers4
 ,the which  thing our ,poet1 meaning to
 eschewe3 in this very woorde it selfe  
7,i  beleve7 sought to finde out        
another1 not thinking muche of his      
paines  7bycause it liked him wel7 to   
seeke farre to borrow it els where4 ,and

  said3      ,remember how the ,lorde a 
man was faine to be1    ,for mans       
offence and sinne in ,cloister of       
virginitie4    ,and albeit ,dant the    
learned ,poet1 did litle set by suche   
kinde of  rules3 ,i doe not think yet1 a
 man should allow well of him in doing  
so4  ,and sure1 ,i would not councell   
you to make him your ,maister in this   
point1 to learne ,a ,grace3 forasmuche  
as he him selfe had none4 ,for1  this ,i
 finde in a ,chronicle of him4    ,this 
,dant1 was somewhat proude for his      
knowledge1 scornefull and  disdainfull1 
and muche 7as ,philosophers be7 without 
any grace or  courtesie3 having no skill
 to behave him selfe in company4    ,but
 to come to our purpose againe3 ,i say1 
our speache must be plaine3  which will 
be easie inough to doe3 if you have wit 
to choose those  wordes that be         
naturally bred in our soile3 and with   
all not so olde  wt ,age1 that they are 
become rotten and withered3 and as      
overworne  apparell1 leaft of and cast a

 side4 ,as1 ,spaldo1 and ,epa1 and      
,vopo1  and ,sezzaio1  ,primaio4 ,and   
moreover1 the wordes you shall use1 must
  have no double understanding1 but     
simple4 ,for by coupling suche wordes   
together3 wee frame that speache that is
 called ,aenigma4 ,and to speake  it    
plainer in our owne language1 we call it
 ,gergo4 ,as in this verse3      ,io    
vidi un che da sette passatoi    ,fu da 
un canto all' altro trapassato4         
,againe1 our wordes would be1 7as nere  
as they might be7 aptly and  properly   
applied to that thing we go about to    
deliver1  as litle  as may be1 common to
 other matters3 for1 in so doing1 a man 
shall  weene1 the matter it selfe is    
openly laide before him3  that it  is   
not expressed with wordes1 but pointed  
foorthe with the finger4  ,and therefore
 we may more properly say3 ,a man is    
knowen by his  countenaunce1 then by his
 figure or counterfet4 ,and ,dant did   
better  expresse the matter1 when he    
saide1      ,the weightes    ,that peize

 the weight doe make the balance creeke1
    ,then if he had saide      ,crie out
 and make a noise4    ,and it is a more 
proper and peculiar speache to say1 ,the
 shivering of  an ague1 then to call it 
,the ,colde4 ,and flesh that is ,tidie1 
to terme  it rather1 ,fatte3 then       
,fulsome4    ,ther be some woordes more 
in this place to like effect1 which ,i  
meane  not to stande uppon now3 bycause 
our ,englishe tounge cannot hansomely   
deliver their perfect meaning4 ,for the 
,italians have 7as we have1 and  all    
other ,countreis ells as well as wee7   
certaine peculiar wordes and  termes1 so
 naturally and properly their owne1 as  
it is not possible to  expresse them    
aptly and perfectly in any other        
,language4 ,and therefore  the ,author  
him selfe1 fearing1 or knowing asmuche  
in the sense of these  wordes1 which he 
hath inferred in this place 7as it were 
preventing a  blame7 in maner excuseth  
and speaketh asmuch as ,i say1 as the   
matter it  selfe that insueth doth      

shewe4 ,for1 the ,author him selfe      
following his  purpose saithe thus4     
,i am well assured1 if some straunger   
should1 unhappely for my credite1  hit  
uppon this treatise of mine3 he would   
laughe mee to scorne1 and say  that ,i  
taught to speake in riddles1 or els in  
,ciphers4 ,for as muche as  these       
wordes1 be almost so properly our owne1 
that other countries have  no           
acquaintance with them3 or1 if they     
woulde use them1 yet they cannot  tell  
how to understand them4 ,for1 who is it 
that knowes what ,dant ment  in this    
verse4      ,gia veggia per ,mezzul     
perdere o ,lulla4    ,sure1 ,i beleeve  
no man ells but we that are ,florentines
 can understand  it4 ,notwithstanding1  
for any thing that ,i have saide1 if    
there be any  fault in this text of     
,dant3 it is not in the wordes4 ,but1 if
 he have  faulted1 it is rather in this3
 that 7as a man somewhat wilfull7 he    
would take uppon him1 a matter harde to 
be uttered in wordes1 and per  adventure

 unplesaunt to heare3 then that he hath 
exprest it ill4    ,it is not then for a
 man to use any talke1 with him that    
understandeth  not that language you    
talke unto him4 ,nor yet1 bycause a     
,douche man  understandes not the       
,italian tounge1 must wee 7for that     
cause7 breake  of our talke1 to holde   
talke with him1 to make our selves      
counterfets1  as ,maister ,brusaldo did1
 and as some other be woont1 that fondly
 and  coldly1 without any grace1 thrust 
them selves in to ,chat in their        
language with whome they talke1 what so 
ever it be1 and chop it out  every worde
 preposterously4 ,and many times it     
chaunceth1 the ,spaniard  talkes        
,italian with the ,italian1 and the     
,italian babbles againe in a  bravevery 
and gallantnes1 the ,spanishe toung with
 the ,spaniard4 ,and  yet1 it is an     
easier thing to know1 yt they both talke
 like strangers3  then to forbeare to   
laugh at the folish follies that scape  
them both in  speache4 ,let us not      

therfore use our forreigne language1 but
 when it is  needefull for us to be     
understoode1 for some necessitie or     
other1 that  appertaineth unto us3 ,and 
in common use1 use our owne tounge1     
thoughe  not altogether so good3 rather 
then a forreigne language1 better then  
our owne that is naturall unto us4 ,for 
a ,lumbarde shall speake his owne       
tounge more aptly 7which is1            
notwithstanding1 but base and barbarous7
  then he shall speake the ,tuscane1 or 
other language3 even bycause he  hath   
not so redily1 so proper and peculiar   
wordes1 althoughe he studie  much for   
them1 as wee our selves that be         
,tuscanes4    ,but yet1 if a man have a 
respect to them with whome he talkes3   
and for  that cause forbeare  leave out 
those singular wordes1 7which ,i have   
spoken of7 and in stede of them use the 
generall and common3 his talke1  by     
suche meanes1 shall have the lesse      
pleasure  delight4    ,besides this1 it 
becometh everie honest gentleman1 to    

eschewe those  wordes that have no      
honest meaning4 ,and1 ,the goodnes of   
wordes  consisteth either in their      
sound1 or pronouncing3 or1 in their     
sense  and meaning4 ,for as much as som 
wordes speake an honest matter1 and     
yet1 perchaunce1 there is a certaine    
unhonest sense perceaved to  stand in   
the pronouncinge of the worde it selfe3 
as ,rinculare3 which1  notwithstanding1 
is daily used of all men4 ,but if a man 
or woman should  speake after this      
sorte1  at that verie warning doe it in 
sight of any  7che si dice il farsi     
indietro7 then would the grosenesse of  
the worde  plainlie appeare unto them4  
,but our ,palate1 throughe ,custome and 
,use1  happilie tasteth ye wine 7as it  
were7 and the bestnes of the sense of   
the worde1 and not ye ,dregges or       
,leeze4      ,she gave the ,spanish     
figge with both her thumbes at once4    
,saith ,dant4    ,but our women1 would  
be much ashamed to speake so3 yea to    
shunne this  ambiguous woord1 yt        

signifieth a worse matter1 they rather  
say ,le  castagne4 ,albeit yet some of  
them at unwares1 many times1 name that  
unadvisedly1 which if another man had   
spoken to trie them1 would have  made   
them blushe to heare that remembred in  
way of blasphemie1 which  makes them    
women4 ,and therefore1 suche as be1 or  
would be better  mannered or taught1    
take good heede they doe eschewe1 not   
only things  uncleane and unhonest1 but 
woordes also3 and not somuche those that
 be  evill indeede1 but those that may  
be1 or doe but seeme to be unhonest1    
foule  filthie3 as some men say these   
are of ,dant4      ,she blewe large     
blastes of winde    ,both in my face and
 under4    ,or els these4      ,i pray  
thee tell mee where about the hole doth 
stand4    ,and one of the ,spirits said4
      ,then come behinde and where the  
hole is1 it may be scand4    ,and you   
must knowe1 that albeit two1 or moe     
wordes1 otherwhile chaunce  to tell one 
selfe thinge1 yet the one is more       

cleanly then the other4  ,as for        
example1 to say3 ,con lui giacque1      
,della sua persona gli  sodisfece4 ,for 
this self same speach1 if it were in    
other termes1 would  be to broad before 
to filthie to heare it4 ,and speaking of
 ,endymion1  you may more aptly say3 ,il
 ,vago della ,luna3 then you can say ,il
 ,drudo1  althoughe both these wordes   
doe import and signifie ,a lover1 and a 
,friend4 ,and a much honester speache is
 it1 if you talke of ,aurora1 to  call1 
her4 ,tritons prety gerle and lover1    
then ,concubine4 ,and it better  becomes
 a mans and womans mouth1 to call       
,harlots1 women of the worlde  7as      
,belcolore did1 who was more ashamed to 
speake it then to doe it7  then to use  
their common name3 ,thaide  la ,puttana4
 ,and as ,boccace  declared ye power of 
,meretrici and ,ragazzi4 ,for1 se cosi  
hauesse  nominato dall'arte loro i      
maschi1 come nomin le femine2 his talke 
would have byn foule  shamefull4 ,and   
withall1 ,a man must not alone  beware  

of unhonest and filthie talke3 but also 
of that whiche is base  and vile1 and   
especially where a man talketh          
discourseth of greate  and highe        
matters4 ,and for this ,cause1          
perchaunce1 woorthely some blame  our   
,beatrice1 sayeing3      ,to passe      
throughe ,lethes floud1 the highest     
,fates would blott1    ,if man mighte   
taste the ,viandes suche1 as there dooe 
fall by ,lott1    ,and not pay firste a 
due repentaunce for his scott4    ,for1 
in my conceite1 these base wordes that  
come out of the ,tavernes1  bee verie   
uncomely for suche a worthy discourse4  
,and when a man hathe  like occasion to 
speake of ye ,sunne1 it shall not be    
good to call it  ,the ,candell or the   
,lampe of the world3 bycause such       
woordes do put us  in minde of ye ,oyle1
  the stuffe of the kitchin4 ,neither   
should a man  that is well advised1 say 
that ,saincte ,dominicke was ,il ,drudo 
della  ,theologia3 ,nor yet talke1 that 
the glorious ,sainctes have spoken suche

  base and vile woordes3 ,as for        
,example to say4      ,and leave to     
scratche whereas the scabs of sinne     
breake out4    ,for they savour of ye   
dregges1  ye filth of ye common people1 
as  every man may easily see4           
,againe1 in your long and large         
discourses1 you must have ye  like      
considerations  cares1  some more3 ye   
which you may more  commodiously learne 
of your ,maisters yt teache you yt arte1
 that is  commonly called ,rhetorike4   
,and amongest other things1 ,you must   
accustome your selfe1 to use suche      
gentle and courtious speache to men1 and
 so sweete1 that it may have  no maner  
of bitter taste4 ,and you shall rather  
say1 ,i cannot tell how  to say it3     
,then say3 you ar deceived3 ,or1 it is  
not true3 ,or1 you know  it not4 ,for1  
it is a courteous and friendly parte to 
excuse a mans  faulte1 even in that very
 thing1 wherein you know how to blame   
him4  ,and withall1 it doth well1 to    
make the proper and peculiar fault of   

your friend1 indifferent and common to  
you both3 and first1 to take  one piece 
to your selfe1 and then after1 to blame 
and reprove him for  it4 ,wee were      
deceived and failed muche3 we forgot our
 selves yesterday  to doe so4 ,althoughe
 suche negligence  errour1 or what      
soever it  be3 be altogether his fault  
and not yours4 ,and ,restagnone forgat  
him  selfe muche1 when he saide to his  
companions3 ,if your wordes doe not     
lie4 ,for1 ,a man should not bring      
another mannes faithe and honestie in   
question and doubte4 ,but1 if a man     
promise you any thing1 and doe not      
performe it3 it shall not doe well1 for 
you to say unto him1 ,you have  lost    
your credite with mee3 without some     
necessarie cause doe drive you  to say  
so1 as to save your owne credite and    
honestie4 ,but1 you shall  rather say3  
,you could not do it3 ,or1 you did not  
remember to doe it3  ,then1 you have    
cleane forgotten mee4 ,for1 these kinde 
of speaches1 have  some prickles        

stinges of ,complaint1 ,anger and       
,choler4 ,so that1 suche  as use them   
selves to speake suche churlishe and    
fumishe woordes1 are  taken for sharpe  
and sower fellowes3  men doe asmuche    
shunne their  acquaintance3 as to thrust
 them selves uppon thornes and thistles4
    ,and bycause ,i knowe som1 of this  
naughtie condition  qualitie3 ,i meane  
some yt be so hastie and greedy to      
speake1 yt they take not the sense  with
 them1 but over passe it and runne      
before it1 as the grehound1 that  doth  
not pinche by overshooting his game3    
ther fore ,i will not spare  to tell you
 that1 which may be thought needeles to 
touche1 as a thing  to well knowen3 and 
that is1 that ,you shall never speake1  
before you  have first considered  laide
 the plot in your minde what it is you  
have to saie4 ,for in so doing1 your    
talke shalbe well delivered and  not    
borne before the time4 ,i trust1        
straungers will easily beare with  this 
worde3 if at least they vouchsafe to    

read these trifles of mine4  ,and if you
 doe not skorne my preceptes3 it shall  
never chaunce you to  say3 welcome      
,maister ,agostino1 to such a one1 whose
 name is ,agnolo1  or ,bernardo4 ,and   
you shal never need to say1 ,tell me    
your name3 ,nor  say againe1 ,i saide   
not well3 ,nor1 ,lorde what doe ,i call 
him3 ,nor  to hack and to stutter long  
together1 to finde out a worde1 ,maister
  ,arrigo3 no ,master ,arabico3 ,tushe1 
what doe ,i call him ,i should say1     
,maister ,agabito4 ,these fonde  foolish
 behaviours  fashions1 paine a  man as  
much to heare them1 as to be drawne and 
haled with cordes4    ,the voice would  
be neither hoarse nor shrill4 ,and1 when
 you laugh  and sporte in any sorte3 you
 must not crye out and criche like the  
,pullye of a well3 nor yet speake in    
your yawning4 ,i knowe well it is  not  
in us1 to geve our selves a ready tongue
 or perfect voice at our  owne will and 
pleasure4 ,hee yt doth stutter1 or is   
hoarse3 let him  not alwayes bable and  

gabbe1 and keepe a courte alone3 let him
 rather  amend the defect of his tounge 
with silence1 and hearinge3 and withall 
7if hee can7 with studie diminishe the  
fault of ,nature4 ,it is an ill  noise  
to heare a man raise his voice highe1   
like to a common ,crier4  ,and yet ,i   
would not have him speake so lowe and   
softly1 that he that  harkens1 shall not
 heare him4 ,and if he be not heard at  
ye first time  he speaketh1 he must     
speake1 the next time1 somewhat plainer3
 but yet1  not yoape out aloude1 that he
 make not men thinke he is woode and    
angry  with them3 for hee shall doe but 
well1 to rehearse that againe he hath   
spoken1 yt men may understand what he   
said4    ,your wordes would be disposed1
 even as the common use of speache doth 
require and not unsorted1 disordered and
 scattered confusedly3 as many  be woont
 to doe uppon a bravery1 whose maner of 
talke is more like a  ,scrivener 7me    
thinke7 that readeth in his mother      
tounge1 the ,indenture  he hath written 

before in latine3 then a man that       
reasoneth or talketh  in his ,naturall  
language3 as this for example4          
,they drawe by sent of false and fained 
steps of truth4    ,or if a man should  
preposterously place his wordes thus4   
,those times did blossomes geve before  
their time of soothe4    ,which maner of
 speache1 may be otherwhile allowed in  
versifiers3 but it  is utterly forbidden
 in common talke4    ,and1 it behoves a 
man1 not onely to shunne this versifying
 maner of  speache1 in his familiar and 
common discourse1 or talke3 but likewise
  eschewe ye pomp1 bravery1             
affectation1 that may be suffered and   
allowed to inriche an ,oration1 spoken  
in a publike place4 ,otherwise1  men    
that doe heare it1 will but spite it1   
and laughe him to scorne for  it4       
,albeit perchaunce1 a ,sermon may shewe 
a greater cunning and arte1 then  common
 talke4 ,but1 ,everie thing must have   
his time and place4 ,for1 he  that      
walkes by the way must not daunce1 but  

goe4 ,for1 every man hath  not the skill
 to daunce1 yet every man can skill to  
goe4 ,but1 ,dauncing  is meete for      
feastes  weddings3 it is not to use in  
the stretes4 ,you  must then take good  
heede you speake not with a majestie4   
,it is thought by many ,philosophers4   
,and suche is all ,filocolo1 and the    
other treatises of ,maister ,john       
,boccace1 except his greater woorke1 and
 litle more perchaunce ,corbaccio4    ,i
 would not for al this1 that you should 
use so base a speache1 as ye  scum1 as  
it were1 and the froth of the meanest   
and vilest sorte of  people1 ,launderers
  ,hucksters3 but suche as gentlemen    
should speake   talke1 which ,i have    
partly told you before1 in what sort it 
may be  done3 that is1 if you talke of  
matters that be neither vile1 vaine1    
fowle1 nor lothesome4 ,and if you have  
skill to choose amongest the  woords of 
your owne countrie speache1 the purest  
and most proper1 suche  as have the best
 sounde1 and best sense1 touching nor   

remembring1 in  no case1 no matter that 
is foule1 vile and base3  if you can    
place  your woords in good order1 and   
not shoofle them together at random1 nor
  yet1 with over muche ,curious studie1 
file them 7as it were7 one your  beades4
 ,moreover1 if you do dispose such      
things as you have to say with          
discretion4 ,and take good hede that you
 couple not unfit  unlikely  matters    
together3 as for ,example4      ,as sure
 as ,god is in ,heaven3    ,so stands   
the staffe in the chimny corner4    ,and
 if you speake not so slowe1 as if you  
were unlustie3 nor so hasty1  as if you 
wer hungrie3 but as a wise and a        
temperate man should doe4  ,likewise1 if
 you pronounce youre woords and your    
sillables with a  certaine grace        
sweetnes3 not as a ,scholemaister yt    
teacheth young  ,children to read  to   
spell4 ,neither must you mumble them nor
 supp them  up1 as if they were glued   
pasted together one to another4 ,if you 
remember these and such other rules and 

precepts3 youre talke will be  liked1   
and heard with pleasure enoughe3 and you
 shall well maintaine  the state and    
countenaunce1 that well besemeth a      
gentleman well taught  and honest4      
,besids these1 there be some1 that never
 hould their tounge4 ,and as the  shippe
 that sailes1 doth not presently stand  
still1 by taking downe  the sailes3 ,so 
doe they runne forward1 as caried away  
with a certaine  braide3 and loosing the
 matter of their talke1 yet leave not to
 babble1  but either repeate that againe
 that is said1 or els speake still they 
cannot tell what4    ,and there be other
 so full of babble1 that they will not  
suffer another  to speake4 ,and as wee  
doe see otherwhile1 uppon the flowers in
 the  countrie where they thresh corne1 
one ,pullet pull the corne out of the   
others beake3 so doe they catche the    
tale out of his mouth yt beganne  it1   
and tell it them selves4 ,and sure1     
suche maner of people1 induce  men to   
quarell and fight with them for it4     

,for1 if you doe marke it  wel3 ,nothing
 moves a man sooner to anger3 then when 
he is soudainely  cut short of his will 
and his pleasure1 be it of never so     
little and  small importaunce4 ,as when 
you gape wide with yawning3 another     
should  thrust his hand in your mouth3  
or when you doe lift your arme redy  to 
hurle a stone3 it is soudainly staide by
 one that stands behinde  you4 ,even    
then1 as these doings1 and many moe like
 unto these1 which  tend to hinder the  
will and desire of another 7albeit but  
in way of  sporte  of play7 are         
unseemely1 and would be eschewed3 ,so in
 talke and  communication with men1 wee 
should rather pull one1 and further     
their  desiers1 by what meanes we can1  
then stop them and hinder them in it4   
,and therefore1 ,if any man be in a     
redines to tell his tale3 it is no  good
 maner to interrupte him3 nor to say    
that you doe knowe it well4  ,or1 if hee
 besprinckle his tale here and there1   
with some prety lie3  you must not      

reprove him for it1 neither in wordes   
nor in gesture1 as  shaking your hed1 or
 scowling uppon him1 as many be wont3   
gloriously  vaunting them selves1 that  
they can1 by no meanes1 abide the taste 
of  a ,lie4444 ,but1 this is not the    
reason of this1 it is the sharpenes and 
sowernes of their owne rusticall  eager 
,natures1 which makes them so  venemous 
bitter in all companies they come3 that 
no man cares for  their acquaintance4   
,likewise1 ,it is an illfavoured        
condition to stop another mans tale  in 
his mouth3 and it spites him asmuche1 as
 if a man should take him  by the sleeve
  hould him backe1 even when he is redie
 to runne his  course4 ,and when another
 man is in a tale1 it is no good maner  
for you1  by telling the company some   
newes1  drawing their mindes to other   
matters1 to make them forsake him       
cleane1 and leave him alone4 ,for1 it   
is an uncourtious parte for you to leade
 and carry away the company3  which the 
other 7not you7 hath brought together4  

,and1 when a man tells his tale1 you    
must geve good eare unto him3  that you 
may not say otherwhile1 ,o what83 ,or1  
how83 which is many a  mans fashion to  
doe4 ,and this is asmuch trouble and    
paine to him that  speaketh3 as to      
shoofle against ye stones1 to him that  
goeth4 ,all  these fashions1 and        
generally1 that which may stoppe1 and   
that which  may traverse the course of  
another mans talke1 must be shunned4    
,and1 if a man tell his tale slowe like 
a drawe-latche3 you must not yet  hasten
 him forwarde1 nor lende him woordes1   
although you be quicker in  speache then
 hee4 ,for1 many doe take that ill1 and 
specially suche1 as  persuade themselves
 they have a ,joly grace in telling a   
tale4 ,for1 they  doe imagine you thinke
 not so well of them1 as they themselves
 doe3 ,and  that you would geve them    
instructions in their owne ,arte3 as    
,merchaunts  that live in greate wealth 
plentie1 would count it a greate        
reproche  unto them1 that a man should  

proffer them money1 as if they lived  in
 lacke1  were poore and stoode in neede 
of releefe4 ,and you must  understand1  
that1 ,every man in his owne conceite1  
thinkes he can tell  his tale well3     
althoughe for modestie sake he deny it4 
,and ,i cannot  gesse how it cometh to  
passe1 that the veriest foole doth      
babble most3  which over muche prattle1 
,i would not have a gentleman to use1   
and  specially1 if his skill be but     
scant in the matter in talke3 ,not      
onely1  bycause it is a hard matter3    
but1 ,he must run in many faults that   
talkes muche3 but also1 bycause a man   
weenes1 that1 ,he that talkes all  the  
talke to him selfe1 woulde 7after a     
sorte7 preferre him self above  them all
 that heare him1 as a ,maister would be 
above his scholers4 ,and  therfore1 ,it 
is no good maner for a man to take uppon
 him a greater  state1 then doth become 
him4 ,and in this fault1 not men alone1 
but many  countries fall into1 so       
cackling and prattling3 that1 woe be    

their  eares that geve them hearing4    
,but1 as over muche babble makes a man  
weary3 so doth over muche ,silence      
procure as greate disliking4 ,for1 ,to  
use silence in place where other  men   
talke to and fro3 is in maner1 asmuche a
 fault1 as not to pay your  share and   
scot as other men doe4 ,and as speache  
is a meane to shewe men  your minde1 to 
whome you speake3 so1 doth ,silence     
againe make men wene1  you seke to be   
unknowne4 ,so yt1 as those people which 
use to drinke  muche at feastes1 and    
make them selves drunke1 are wont to    
thrust them  out of their companie1 that
 will not take their drinke as they doe3
 ,so  be these kinde of mute  still     
fellowes1 coldly welcome to pleasaunt   
and mery companie1 that meete to passe  
the time away in pleasure and  talke4   
,so that1 ,it is good maner for a man to
 speake1 and likewise to  hold his      
peace1 as it comes to his turne1 and    
occasion requires4    ,as an old        
,chronicle maketh mention4 ,there was in

 the parts of ,morea1  a very good      
workman in stone3 ,who for ye singular  
good skill he  had in his ,art1 was     
called 7as ,i take it7 ,maestro         
,chiarissimo4 ,this  man 7now well      
strooken in yeares7 made a certaine     
treatise1  therin  gathered together al 
ye precepts  rules of his arte3 as the  
man yt  had very good skill to doe it3  
shewing in what sorte the proportions   
and lineaments of the body1 should be   
duely measured1 as well everyone  a     
parte by it selfe1 as one respecting    
another3 yt they might justly   duely be
 answerable ye one to the other3 which  
treatise of his1 he  named ,regolo4     
,meaning to shewe1 that according to    
that1 all the ,images  and pictures1    
that from thensforth any workeman should
 make1 should be  squared  lined forth3 
as ye beames1 and ye stones1 and the    
walles1  are measured by ye rules       
precepts of that booke4 ,but1 for that  
it  is a muche easier matter to speake  
it1 then to worke it1 or doe it3  and   

besides that1 ,the greatest number of   
men1 especially of us that  be prophane 
and not learned1 have our senses much   
quicker then our  understanding1 and    
consequently1 better conceive particular
 things and  ,examples1 then the        
generall propositions and ,syllogismes  
7which ,i might  terme in plainer       
speache1 ,reasons7 for this cause this  
worthy man ,i  speake of1 having regard 
to the ,nature of workemen3 whose       
capacities  are unfit and unable to     
weeld the weighte of generall ,precepts 
and  rules3 and to declare more         
plainely1 with all his cunning and      
skill3  having found out for his        
purpose1 a fine marble stone1 with muche
  labour and paine1 he fashioned and    
shaped an ,image of it1 as perfectly    
proportioned in every parte and member3 
as the precepts and rules of  his       
treatise had before devised4 ,and as he 
named the booke1 so did he  name that   
,image1 and called it by name of        
,regolo4    ,now1 7and it pleased god7  

,i would ,i could but one parte of those
 twoe  points1 which that noble         
,ingraver  worckeman ,i speake of1 had  
perfect  skill and knowledge to doe3 ,i 
meane1 that ,i could gather together in 
this treatise1 after a sorte1 the due   
measures of this ,art ,i take  uppon me 
to treate of4 ,for1 to perfourme the    
other1 to make the second  ,regolo3 ,i  
meane1 to use and observe in my maners1 
the measures ,i speake  of1 framing and 
forming1 as it were1 ,a ,visible        
,example1 and a material  ,image of     
them3 it were now1 to muche for me to   
doe4 ,for asmuch as1 ,it  is not inough 
to have knowledge and ,art1 in matters  
concerning maners   fashions of men3    
,but it is needefull withall1 to worke  
them to a  perfect effect1 to practise  
and use them muche3 which cannot be had 
uppon the soudaine1 nor learned by  by3 
but it is number of yeares  that must   
winne it3  ye beste parte of mine be    
runne fourth alredy1  you see4    ,but  
for all this1 you must not make ye lesse

 reconing of these  precepts4 ,for1 ,a  
man may well teache another the way3    
although he have  gone out of the way   
himself4 ,and1 peradventure1 they that  
have lost  their wayes1 do better       
remember the hard wayes to find3 then   
they that  never went a misse4 ,and1 if 
in mine infancie1 when minds be tender  
and  pliable1 like a young twigge1 they 
that had ye charge  governement  of me1 
had had the skill to smoothe my manners1
 7perhaps of ,nature  somwhat hard and  
rude7 and would have polished and       
wrought them fine3  peradventure ,i     
should have beene such ,a one1 as ,i    
travaile to make thee  ,nowe1 whome ,i  
love no lesse then if thou were my      
sonne4 ,for albeit1  the power of       
,nature be greate3 yet is she many times
 ,maistered and  corrected by custome3  
,but1 we must in time begin to encounter
 and beate  her downe1 before she get to
 muche strength and hardines4 ,but most 
men  will not doe so3 but rather        
yealding to their appetite without any  

striving1 following it where so ever it 
leades them1 thinke they must  submitte 
themselves to ,nature3 ,as though       
,reason were not a naturall  thing in   
man4 ,but1 ,reason hath 7as a ,lady and 
,mistris7 power to chaunge  olde        
customes1 and to helpe  hold up ,nature1
 when she doth at any time  decay and   
fall4 ,but very seldome we harken unto  
her4 ,and yt for ye  moste parte1 maketh
 us like unto them whome god hath not   
endued wt  ,reason3 ,i mean brute       
beastes1 in whome notwithstanding1      
something yet  worketh3 not their owne  
,reasons 7for they have none of them    
selves7 but  ours3 as in horses you see 
it3 which by nature would be ever wilde1
  but yt their rider makes them tame1   
and withal1 after a sorte1 redy   very  
well paced4 ,for many of them would have
 a hard trot1 but that  the rider makes 
them have an easier pace4 ,and some he  
doth teache to  stand still1 to galopp1 
to treade the ringe1 and passe the      
carreere3  ,and they learne to doe it   

all well you see4 ,then1 if the horse1  
the  dog1 ye hauke1  many other beastes 
besides1 more wilde then these1  be     
guided and ruled by ,reason1 and learne 
that which their owne ,nature  cannot   
attaine1 but rather repugneth3 and      
become after a sorte cunning  and       
skilfull1 so farre as their kinde doth  
beare it1 not by ,nature1  but by       
custome  use3 how muche then may we     
thinke wee should excell  them1 by the  
precepts and rules of our ,reason1 if   
wee tooke any heede  unto it4 ,but1 ,the
 ,senses desire  covet present          
delightes1 what soever  they be3 and can
 abide no paines1 but puts them of4 ,and
 by this meanes1  they also shake of    
,reason1 and thinke her unpleasant1     
forasmuche as  she sets before them1 not
 pleasure1 many times1 hurtfull3 but    
goodnes  and vertue1 ever painfull1     
sower and unsavoury in taste4 ,for1     
while  we live according to the ,sense1 
wee are like to the selly sickman1  to  
whom al cates never so deinty  sweete1  

seeme untoothsome3 and he  chideth still
 with his ,cater and ,cooke1 in whome   
there is no fault at  all for it4 ,for1 
it is the ,nature of his disease1 and   
the ,extremitie  of his sicknes1 and not
 the fault of his meate1 that he doth   
not  savourly taste what he eates4 ,so  
,reason1 which of it selfe is sweete    
and savourie3 seemes bitter in taste    
unto us1 though it have no ill  taste in
 dede4 ,and therfore as nice  deintie   
felowes1 we refuse to  make any taste of
 her3  cover our grosnes1 wt saying that
 ,nature  hath no spurres nor raines yt 
can prick her forth1 or hold her backe4 
,where sure1 if an ,oxe or an ,asse1 or 
a ,hogge1 could speake3 ,i beleeve1     
they could not lightly tell a more fowle
  shamefull tale then this4  ,we should 
be children still all the time of our   
riper yeares1  in our  extreame age3 and
 waxe as very fooles with gray hoary    
heads1 as when  we were very babes3 if  
it were not that reason1 which          
increaseth in us  with our yeares1      

subdueth affections in us and growen to 
perfection1  transformeth us from       
beastes in to men4 ,so that it is well  
seene1  shee ruleth our senses and      
bridleth our willes4 ,and it is our owne
  ,imperfection and not her faulte1 if  
we doe swarve from vertue1 goodnes1  and
 good order in life4    ,it is not then 
true1 that there is not a bridell and   
,master for ,nature1  ,nay1 she is      
guided and ruled by twaine3 ,custome ,i 
meane1 and ,reason4  ,but1 as ,i have   
tould you a litle before3 ,reason       
without ,custome and  use1 cannot make  
an uncivile bodie1 well taught and      
courtious3 ,which  custome and use1 is  
as it were1 bred and borne of time4 ,and
 therefore  they shall doe well1 to     
harken betime unto her1 not only for    
that1 by  this meanes1 a man shall have 
more time and leasure to learne to be   
such as she teacheth1 and to become as  
it were a houshould servaunt  of hers1  
and one of her traine3 but also bycause 
,the tender age1 as  pure and cleane1   

doth easily receave all ,impressions1   
and reteineth  more lively1 the colours 
wherewith she is dyed3 then when a man  
comes  to riper yeares3 ,and also1      
bycause ,the things wherein wee have byn
  nourished and trained from our youth1 
doe ordinarily please us1 above  all    
other things4 ,and for this cause1 it is
 said that ,diodato1 a man  that had a  
singular good gift  grace of utterance1 
would evermore  bee the first that came 
fourth uppon the stage to shewe his     
,comedie3  allthoughe they were all but 
counterfets unto him1 whosoever they    
were that should have spoken before him4
 ,but he would not his voice  should    
occupie other mens eares1 after they    
heard another man speake4  ,although1 in
 respect of his doings1 it were a greate
 deale ,inferiour to  his4 ,seing then1 
,i cannot agree my workes and my wordes 
together1 for  those causes ,i have     
shewed you before1 as ,maestro          
,chiarissimo did3 whoe  had as good a   
skil to do it1 as he had knowledge to   

teache it3 let it  suffice that ,i have 
tould in some part what must be done1 by
 cause ,i am  not by any meanes able to 
doe it in dede4 ,he that liveth in      
darkenes1  may very well ,judge what    
comfort it is to enjoy the benefit of   
light4  ,and by an over long silence1 we
 knowe what pleasure it is to speake3 so
  when you beholde my grose and rude    
maners3 you shall better ,judge1 what   
goodnes and vertue there is in courtious
 behaviours and fashions4    ,to come   
againe then to this treatise1 which     
growes now to some end3 wee  say that   
,those be good maners and fashions1     
which bring a delight1 or  at least1    
offend not their senses1 their minds1   
and conceits1 with whom  we live4 ,and  
of these1 wee have hitherto spoken      
inoughe4    ,but you must understand    
with all this1 that1 ,men be very       
desirous of  bewtifull things1 well     
proportioned and comely4 ,and of        
counterfet  things fowle and ill shapen1
 they be as squemish againe1 on the     

other side4 ,and this is a speciall     
privilege geven to us3 that other       
creatures have no capacitie1 to skill   
what bewtie or measure meaneth4  ,and1  
therefore1 as things not common wt      
beastes but proper to our  selves3 we   
must embrace them for them selves3 and  
holde them dere3   yet those1 much more1
 yt drawe nerest to ye knowledge of man3
 as  which are most apt and inclined to 
understand the perfection which  ,nature
 hath lefte in men4    ,and albeit1 it  
be a hard matter1 to shewe precisely1   
,bewtie1 what  maner of thing it is3 yet
 yt you may have some marke1 to know her
 by3  you must understand1 yt ,where    
jointly  severally1 every parte  the    
whole hath his due proportion and       
measure1 there is ,bewtie4 ,and that    
thing may justly be called faier1 in    
which the saide proportion and  measure 
is found4 ,and by that ,i did once      
learne of a wise  a learned  man3       
,bewtie he said1 would consist but of   
one1 at the moste4 ,and  ,deformitie    

contrarywise1 measured her selfe1 by    
,many4 ,as you may see by  the faces of 
faier and goodly women4 ,for1 the even  
lineaments and due  proportions of every
 of them3 seeme to have byn created     
framed by the  judgement and sight of   
one face alone4 ,which cannot be thought
 in them  that be foule  deformed4 ,for1
 when you beholde a woman1 that hath1   
peradventure1 bigge and bowle eyes1 a   
little nose1 blubbe cheekes1 a  flat    
mouth1 an out chinne1  a browne skinne3 
you thinke straite that  that face is   
not one womans alone3 but is moulded of 
many faces1 and  made of many peeces4   
,and yet1 you shall finde amongest them1
 some such1  whose partes considered    
alone by them selves1 be very perfect to
 see  to3 but all set together1 be foule
 and ill favoured3 not for any other    
cause1 but that they be ye lineaments of
 many faier women1 and not of  one3 ,so 
that a man would weene1 shee had        
borrowed her partes1 of this  and that  
woman4 ,and it may be1 that ,painter    

that had all the faier  maides of       
,calabria1 naked before him3 had none   
other intent therein1  then to judge    
discerne in many1 ye partes yt they     
have1 as it were1  borrowed heere one1  
there another1 of one1 alone3 to whome  
restoring  from eache yt was her right3 
imagining yt ,venus bewty should be     
such1  and so proportioned3 he set him  
selfe to paint her4    ,and1 you must   
not think1 yt this is to be seene in the
 faces1 the  partes1 and the bodies of  
women alone3 but it happeneth more or   
lesse1  in speache1 in gestures  doings4
 ,for1 if you should chaunce to see  a  
,noble woman gorgius and gallant1       
washing of cloutes in a ,river by  ye   
highe waye side3 ,althoughe if this were
 not1 you might hapely  passe away by   
her1 wt little heede to her person or   
state3 yet this  would not brook you nor
 like you1 yt her servile doings doe    
shewe her  more then one4 ,for her state
 should answer her honourable condition 
and calling4 ,but her woorke is suche1  

as is meete for women of base  and      
servile life3  although you shall feele1
 neither ill savour nor  sent come from 
her1 nor heare any noise that should    
offend you1 nor  any thing els to       
trouble your minde3 yet the foule and   
filthy maner  of doing it1 and the      
unseemely act itselfe3 will make you    
muche to  loathe it4 ,you must then     
beware of these fowle and uncomely      
behaviours1  asmuche1 nay1 more then of 
those other1 ,i have spoken all this    
while4  ,for1 it is a harder matter a   
greate deale1 to knowe when a man       
faulteth  in these1 then when he        
faulteth in them4 ,bycause1 ,it is      
easier much1 we  see1 to feele then to  
understande4 ,but yet1 it may chaunce   
otherwhile1  that even that which       
offendeth the senses1 may also offend   
the minde3  thoughe not altogether after
 one sorte1 as ,i have told you before3 
shewing you that ,a man must apparell   
him selfe1 according to the  fashions   
that other men use3 that it may not be  

thought he doth reprove  and correct    
their doings3 ,the which thing offendeth
 most men that seeke  to be commended3  
,and the wisest men that be1 mislike it 
too4 ,for1 the  garments of the olde    
world1 have lost their date1 for men of 
this age  and this season to weare4 ,and
 it is suche an ill shapen sight1 to see
 a  man clad with other mens cloathes3  
that a man would weene there would  be a
 fray betwene the doublet  ye hose3     
their cloathes doe sit1 uppon  them so  
untowardly4    ,so that1 many of those  
matters ,i have spoken of allredy1 or   
peradventure all1 might be aptly        
rehersed here again3 forasmuch as this  
measure ,i speake of here1 is not       
observed in these things3 nor the  time1
 nor ye place1 nor the worke1 nor the   
worker1 accorded  fitted  together1 so  
well as it should be4 ,for mens minds   
and fansies doe like  it1  take a       
pleasure and delight in those things4   
,but ,i thought it  good to apply       
speake these matters1 rather under ye   

badge1 as it  were1 of the ,senses and  
desires3 then properly assigne them to  
the  minde3 that a man may the more     
easily perceive them3 bycause ,it is a  
naturall thinge1 for everie man to feele
 and desire3 but every man  cannot so   
generally understand1 and especially    
that1 whiche we call  bewtie1 gallantnes
 or entertainement4    ,it is not       
inoughe for a man1 to doe things that be
 good3 but hee must  also have a care1  
hee doe them with a good grace4 ,and a  
good grace  is nothing els1 but suche a 
maner of light 7as ,i may call it7 as   
shineth in the aptnes of things set in  
good order and wel disposed1  one with  
another3 and perfectly knit and united  
together4 ,without  which proportion and
 measure1 even that which is good is not
 faire3   the fairenes it self1 is not  
plesaunt4 ,and as meates1 though they be
  good  savourie will give men no minde 
to eate them1 if they have no  pleasaunt
 relish and taste3 ,so fares it with the
 maners of men other  while 7althoughe  

in them selves in no respect they be    
ill1 but foolishe  a little1 and fond7  
if a man doe not season them with a     
certaine  sweetenes1 which you call 7as 
,i take it7 ,grace1 and ,comlines4      
,so that1 every vice of it selfe1       
without any further matter to helpe it  
7it cannot be chosen7 must needes offend
 a man4 ,for1 ,vices be things so  foule
 and filthie3 that honest and modest    
mindes1 will greeve to see  their       
shamefull effects4 ,and therefore1 it   
shall behove them that seeke  to be well
 thought of1 with their familiar        
acquaintance1 above all  things els to  
eschewe vices1 and especially those1    
that be foulest and  worst3 as          
,leachery1 ,covetousnes1 ,crueltie1 and 
other4 ,of which1 some  be beastly1 as  
,drunkennes1 and ,gluttonie3 some       
uncleane1 as ,leacherie3  other some    
horrible1 as ,murther1 and such other3  
all which for them  selves1 and for the 
very naughtines1 that is properly in    
them al1 all  men eschewe more1 or      

lesse3 ,but1 as earst ,i said1 generally
 al1 as  things of greate disorder1 make
 a man misliked muche of all men4       
,but1 bycause ,i have not taken uppon me
 to shew unto you1 mens sinnes1  but    
their ,errors3 it shalbe no parte of my 
charge at this time to  entreate of ye  
,nature of vices  vertues3 but onely of 
the seemely   unseemely fashions and    
maners wee use one with another4 ,one of
 the  which unseemely fashions was1 that
 ,count ,richard did use3 of which ,i   
tould you before4 ,which1 as unseemely  
and unfitting with those other  his good
 and faire maners hee had besides3 that 
same worthie ,bishop 7as  a skilfull and
 cunning ,maister in musicke will easily
 here a note out  of ,tune7 had quickly 
founde out4    ,it shalbe then1         
necessarie for gentlemen and men of good
 behaviour1  to have a regard to this   
measure ,i speake of3 in going1 in      
standing1  in sitting1 in gesture1 in   
porte1 in apparell1 in talke1 in        
silence1  in rest and in action4 ,for1 a

 man must not apparell him selfe like  a
 woman3 that the ,attire may not be of  
one sorte1 and the person of  another3  
as ,i doe see it in some that weare     
their heads  their beards  curled with  
bodkins1 and have their face1 and their 
necks1  their  hands1 so starchte and   
painted1 that it were to muche for a    
girle1 nay1  harlot1 that makes a       
merchandize of it1 and sets her selfe to
 the sale4    ,you must smell1 neither  
of sweete nor of sower3 for a gentleman 
would  not savour nastily like a begger3
 n del maschio venga odore di femina  o 
di meretrice4 ,i doe not by this forbid1
 but you may very well use  some sweete 
smelles of sweete waters4    ,your      
apparell must be shaped according to the
 fashion of the time1 and  your calling1
 for the causes ,i have shewed you      
before4 ,for1 ,we must not  take uppon  
us to alter customes at our will4 ,for  
time doth beget them1  and time doth    
also weare them out4    ,every man may  
applie those fashions1 that be in common

 use1 ye moste  to his owne advantage   
that he can4 ,for1 if perchaunce your   
legges be  very long1 and men use but   
short garments3 you may use a meane1 not
  to long1 nor to short4 ,and if your   
legges be to small1 to greate1 or       
crooked3 make not your hosen of to light
 and garishe a colour1 that  it may not 
call men to looke and to gawre uppon    
your deformitie4 ,thou  must weare no   
garment that shall be to light1 or      
overmuche daubde with  garding2 that men
 may not say1 thou hast ,ganymedes      
hosen1 or wearest  ,cupides doublet4    
,but1 whatsoever it be thou wearest1 let
 it be fit and  well made for thy bodie3
 least thou seme to brave it1 in another
 mans  cloathes4    ,but with all1 thou 
must in any case respect thy condition  
or estate4  ,for1 ,a man of the         
,clergie1 must not be attired like a    
,souldier3  nor a ,souldier goe like a  
,player4 ,when ,castruccio was in ,rome 
with  ,lodovico ,bavero at a greate     
,pompe1 and triumphe3 who was both ,duke

 of  ,lucca and ,pistoia1 and ,count of 
,palazzo1 and ,senatour of ,rome3 this  
,castruccio1 being ,lorde greate        
,maister of the saide ,lodovico ,bavero 
his  househoulde3 for his bravery1 made 
him a coate of crimsin1 uppon the  brest
 wherof1 there was this devise1 in      
letters of ,golde      ,it is even as   
,god will4    ,and uppon the backe      
behinde4      ,and it shallbe as ,god   
will4    ,i beleeve1 you thinke this    
garment1 would have become ,castruccio  
his  ,trumpeter better1 then it could   
become him4    ,and although ,kings be  
free from checke1 and may doe what they 
list3  ,yet1 ,i could never commend     
,king ,manfrede1 ,whoe ever more used1  
to suite  him selfe in greene4 ,wee must
 then have a care1 that our apparell be 
not onely wel made for the bodie3 but   
that it be meete for our calling4  ,and 
withall1 it be suche1 as the countrie   
doth use1 where wee live4  ,for1 ,as in 
divers places be divers measures1 and   
yet bying and selling  every where used3

 ,so in sundry landes be sundrie        
customes1 and yet  every where a man may
 behave him1 and apparell him selfe1    
soberly and  comely4    ,these same     
feathers1 which the ,neapolitanes and   
,spaniardes be wont to  weare1 and      
braveries and ,embroderies3 have but ill
 place amongest grave  gowned men1  the 
attires that ,citizens doe weare4 ,but  
their ,armour and  weapons become suche 
place a greate deal worse4 ,so that1    
looke what  hapely might be allowed in  
,verona1 would not1 perchaunce1 be      
suffered  in ,venice4 ,for as muche as  
these gallants1 all begarded1 and       
huffing  in fethers1  warlike fellowes1 
would not doe well1 in this ,noble      
,citie so peacefull  ,civil4 ,suche     
kinde of people be rather1 in maner1    
like nettles and burres1 amongest good  
and sweete garden flowers1  ,and        
therefore1 they come out of season to   
men that medle with graver  matters then
 they doe4    ,i would not have a       
gentleman to runne in the streate1 nor  

go to fast3  for that is for lackies1   
and not for gentlemen to doe4 ,besides  
that1 it  makes a man weary1 sweate1 and
 puffe3 which be very unsightly things  
for suche men to doe4 ,i would not yet  
have a man go so softe and  demurely1 as
 a maide or a wife4 ,and when a man     
walkes1 it is no good  sight to see a   
man shake his bodie to muche1 nor to    
hold his handes  bare and emptie3 nor   
yet cast  fling his armes up  downe1 in 
such  sort as a man would weene1 hee    
were soweing of ,corne in the field3 nor
  ,stare in a mans face1 as if he had   
spied a mares nest4    ,ther be some    
again1 in their gate pul up their fete  
as high as a horse  yt hath ye spaven3  
yt a man would think they did pluck     
their fete  forth of a bushell4 ,other  
againe stampe their feete so harde on   
the  ground3 that they make allmoste    
asmuche noise as a carte4 ,another goes 
as if he were splay footed4 ,and suche a
 one quivers with his legges1  as he    
stands4 ,some other againe1 at every    

foote1 stoope to stroke up  their hose  
as they goe4 ,and some set their handes 
to their sides1 and  jet up  downe like 
a ,pecocke3 which fashions doe muche    
offend men3 not  as well1 but as ill    
beseeming a man to use them4 ,for1 if   
your horse1  perchaunce1 doe champe and 
play on the bit1 and gape or lill out   
his  tounge1 albeit this geve little    
proofe of his goodnes3 yet it commends  
him well to the sale3 and you shoulde   
finde a misse of it1 if it were         
otherwise3 not bycause ye horse should  
be ther fore the worse3 but  bycause he 
should shew the lesse courage and       
pleasure4 ,now1 if it  stand so1 that   
,comelines and ,grace1 be so much made  
of in beasts1 and  also in things       
without life or sense1 as experience    
doth shewe1 that1  ,two things of equall
 goodnes  comodities1 beare not for all 
that1 a  like price1 if a man doe       
beholde a finer proportion  bewtie1 more
 in  the one then he sees in the other3 
,how muche then more1 should it be      

estemed and commended in men1 capable of
 ,reason4    ,it is a rude fashion for a
 man to clawe or scratche him selfe1    
when he  sitteth at the table4 ,and a   
man should at such time have a very     
greate  care yt he spit not at all4     
,but1 if neede inforce him1 then let him
  doe it1 after an honest sorte4 ,i have
 heard tell1 many times1 of suche       
countries that be so sober3 that they   
doe never spitt4 ,and what should  then 
let us1 but we may well forbeare it for 
suche a little while4  ,we must also    
beware we doe not eate so greedily1 that
 wee get the  hicket1 or belche withall3
 as some that feede so fast1 that they  
noy  the company with it3 they blowe and
 puffe so loud4 ,likewise1 you must  not
 rubbe your teeth with your napkin1     
much lesse with your fingers4  ,for     
these be trickes for a sloven4 ,neither 
must you openly rince your  mouth wt the
 wine1 and then spit it fourthe4        
,neither is it gentleman  like1 to carry
 a sticke in your mouth from the table  

when you rise1  like ye birde that      
builds her a nest3 or put it in your    
eare1 for that  is a ,barbars tricke4   
,and to weare a toothpicke1 about your  
necke3 of all fashions that is  ye      
worst4 ,for1 besides that it is a bauld 
,jewell for a gentleman  to pull forth  
of his bosome1 and putteth men in mind  
of those  ,tooth-drawers1 that sit one  
their benche in the stretes3 it makes   
men  also to thinke1 that the man loves 
his belly full well1 and is provided    
for it4 ,and ,i see no reason1 why they 
should not aswell carry a spoone1  about
 their neckes1 as a toothepicke4    ,it 
is a rude fashion besides1 to leane over
 the table1 or to fill your  mouth so   
ful of meate1 that your cheekes be      
blowne up wtall3 neither  must you by   
any maner of meanes1 give another man to
 know what pleasure  you take1 in the   
meate or the wine4 ,for yt it is for    
,taverners and  ,bousers1 to use suche  
fashions4 ,and to entertaine men yt sit 
at your  table1 with these words3 ,you  

eate nothing this morning4 ,there is    
nothing that likes you4 ,or1 tast you of
 this or of that3 ,i doe not  allowe of 
these fashions1 although they be        
commonly received and used  of all men4 
,for1 albeit by these meanes1 they shewe
 they make much of  those they have     
invited unto them3 yet1 many times1 they
 make men to  leave to eate wher they   
would4 ,for1 it geves them to thinke1   
they  have their eyes1 allwayes uppon   
them1 and that makes them ashamed to    
feede4    ,againe1 ,i doe not like it1  
that a man shall take uppon him to be a 
carver of any meate that stands before  
him3 if he be not muche the  better man1
 that is the carver3 that he to whome he
 carves1 may thinke  he receiveth some  
credite  honour by it4 ,for1 ,amongest  
men that  be of like condition and      
calling1 it makes a hart burning3 that  
he  that playes the carver1 should take 
more uppon him then another4 ,and       
otherwhile1 yt which hee carveth1 doth  
not like him to whom it is  geven4 ,and 

more then this1 by this meanes he       
sheweth1 that the feaste  is not        
sufficiently furnished1 or at least not 
well disposed in order1  when some have 
muche1  other none at all4 ,and ye      
,maister of the  house1 may chaunce to  
take displesure at that1 as if it were  
done to  doe him shame4 ,neverthelesse  
in these matters1 a man must demeasne   
him  self1 as common use and custome    
will allowe1 and not as ,reason  duetie 
would have it4 ,and ,i would wishe a man
 rather to erre in these points  with   
many1 then to be singular in doing well4
 ,but whatsoever good maner  there be in
 this case1 thou must not refuse it1    
whatsoever is carved  unto thee4 ,for it
 may be thought thou doest disdaine it1 
or grunt at  thy carver4    ,now1 to    
drink all out to every man3 which is a  
fashion as litle in use  amongst us1 as 
ye terme it selfe is barbarous          
straunge3 ,i meane1  ,ick bring you1 is 
sure a foule thing of it selfe1  in our 
countrie  so coldly accepted yet3 yt we 

must not go about to bring it in for a  
fashion4 ,if a man doe quaffe or        
carrouse unto you1 you may honestly say 
nay to pledge him1  geveing him thankes1
 confesse your weakenesse1  that you are
 not able to beare it3 or else1 to doe  
him a pleasure1 you  may for curtesie   
taste it3 and then set downe the cup to 
them that  will1 and charge your selfe  
no further4 ,and although this1 ,ick    
bring  you1 as ,i have heard many       
learned men say1 hath beene an auncient 
custome in ,greece1 and that the        
,graecians doe muche commend a goodman  
of that time1 ,socrates1 by name1 for   
that hee sat out one whole night  long1 
drinking a vie with another good man1   
,aristophanes3 and yet ye  next morning 
in the breake of the daye1 without any  
rest uppon his  drinking1 made suche a  
cunning ,geometricall ,instrument1 that 
there was  no maner of faulte to be     
found in the same3 ,and albeit they say 
besides  this1 that ,even as it makes a 
man bould and hardy1 to thrust him selfe

  venterously otherwhile1 in to         
daungerous perils of life3 so likewise  
it brings a man in to good temper and   
fashion1 to enure him selfe  otherwhile1
 with the daungers of things not ever   
chauncing3 ,and bycause  the drinking of
 wine after this sorte1 in a vie1 in    
such excesse and  waste1 is a shrewde   
assault to trie the strength of him that
 quaffes  so lustily3 these ,graecians1 
would have us to use it for a certaine  
proofe of our strength and constancie3  
and to enure us the better1 to  resist  
and master all maner of strong          
temptations4    ,all this               
notwithstanding1 ,i am of a contrary    
mind3 and ,i doe thinke all  their      
reasons to fond1 and to foolishe4 ,but1 
we see that ,learned men  have suche art
 and cunning to persuade1 and such filed
 wordes to serve  their turne3 that     
wrong doth carry the cause away1 and    
,reason cannot  prevaile4 ,and therefore
 let us give them no credite in this    
point4 ,and  what can ,i tell1 if they  

have a secret drift herein1 to excuse   
and  cover the fault of their countrey1 
that is corrupt with this vice4 ,but  it
 is daungerous1 perchaunce1 for a man to
 reprove them for it3 least  asmuch     
happen to him1 as chaunced to ,socrates 
him selfe1 for his over  lavish         
controuling and checking of every mans  
fault4 ,for1 he was so  spited of all   
men for it3 that many articles of       
heresies  other foule  faultes were put 
up against him1 and he condemned to die 
in the end3  allthough they were false4 
,for in truthe1 he was a very good man1 
a ,chatholike3 respecting ye ,religion  
of their false ,idolatrie4 ,but  suer1  
in that he drunke so muche wine that    
same night3 he deserved no  praise in   
the worlde4 ,for1 the hoggshead was able
 to holde  receive  a great deale more1 
then his companion and hee were able to 
take3 if  yt may get any praise4 ,and   
though it did him no harme1 that was    
more1  the goodnes of his strong braine3
 then the continencie of a sober man4   

,and let the ,chronicles talke what they
 list of this matter1 ,i give  ,god     
thankes1 that amongest many the ,plagues
 that have creapt over the  ,alpes1 to  
infect us3 hitherto this worst of all   
the rest1 is not come  over3 that we    
should take a pleasure and praise1 to be
 drunke4 ,neither  shall ,i ever beleve1
 that a man can learne to be temperate1 
of suche a  ,maister as wine and        
drounkennes4    ,the ,stewarde of a     
,noble mans house1 may not be so bolde  
to invite  straungers1 uppon his owne   
head1 and set them downe at his ,lorde  
,maisters table4 ,and there is none that
 is wise1 will be intreated to  it1 at  
his request alone4 ,but otherwhile1 the 
servaunts of the house1  be so malepert 
and saucie1 that they will take uppon   
them1 more then  their ,maister3 of     
which things wee speake in this place1  
more by  chaunce1 then that the order we
 have taken from the beginning1 doth so 
require it4    ,a man must not uncase   
him selfe1 in the presence of any       

assembly4 ,for  it is a slovenly sight1 
in place where honest men be met        
together of  good condition and calling4
 ,and it may chaunce he doth uncover    
those  parts of his bodie1 which work   
him shame  rebuke to shewe them3        
besides yt1 it maketh other men abashed 
to looke upon them4 ,againe1  ,i wold   
have no man to combe his head1 nor washe
 his hands before men4  ,for such things
 would be done alone in your chamber1   
and not abrode3  without it be1 ,i say1 
to washe your hands when you sit downe  
to the  table4 ,for1 there it shall doe 
well1 to washe them in sight1 although  
you have no neede3 that they with whome 
you feede1 may assure them  selves you  
have done it4 ,a man must not come      
forthe with his kercheif1  or quaife one
 his head1 nor yet stroke up his hosen  
uppon his legges in  company4    ,some  
men there be1 that have a pride or a use
 to drawe their mouthes  a little awry1 
or twinckle up their eye1  to blow up   
their cheekes1  and to puffe1 and to    

make1 with their countenaunce1 sundrie  
such like  foolishe and ilfavoured faces
 and gestures4 ,i councell men to leave 
them cleane4 ,for1 ,pallas her selfe1   
the ,goddesse 7as ,i have hearde  some  
wise men say7 tooke once a greate       
pleasure to sound the flute   the       
cornet3  therin she was verie cunning4  
,it chaunst her1 on day1  sounding her  
,cornet for her plesure over a fontain1 
she spide her selfe  in the water3 and  
when she beheld those strange gestures  
she must nedes  make with her mouth as  
she plaid3 she was so much ashamed of it
 that  she brake the cornet in peces    
cast it away4    ,and truely she did but
 well1 for it is no instrument for a    
woman to  use4 ,and it becomes men as   
ill1 if they be not of yt base condition
  and calling1 that they must make it a 
gaine1  an art to live uppon  it4 ,and  
looke what ,i speake1 concerning the    
unseemely gestures of the  countenance  
and face3 concerneth likewise1 all the  
partes and members  of man4 ,for it is  

an ill sight1 to lill out ye tounge1 to 
stroke your  bearde much up and downe   
7as many doe use to doe7 to rubbe your  
hands  together3 to sighe1  to sorrowe3 
to tremble or strike your selfe1  which 
is also a fashion wt some3 to reatche   
and stretche your selfe1   so retching1 
to cry out after a nice maner1 ,alas1   
,alas3 like a country  cloune1 yt should
 rouse him selfe in his couche4    ,and 
he that makes a noise wt his mouth in a 
token of wonder1 and other  while1 of   
contempte and disdaine3 counterfeteth an
 ilfavoured grace4  ,and ,counterfet    
things1 differ not muche from truethes4 
,a man must leave those foolishe maner  
of laughings1 groase and  uncomely4 ,and
 let men laughe uppon occasion1 and not 
uppon custome4  ,but a man must beware  
he doe not laughe at his owne gestes1   
and his  doings4 ,for that makes men    
weene hee woulde faine praise him selfe4
 ,it  is for other men to laughe that   
heare1 and not for him that telles the  
tale4    ,now1 you must not beare your  

selfe in hand1 that bycause eache of    
these  matters considered a parte1 is   
but a small fault1 ye hole therefore    
together should be as light3 but you    
must rather persuade your selfe  yt     
,many a litle doth make a mickle1 as ,i 
tould you from the beginning4  ,and how 
muche lesse they be1 so much the more   
neede a man hathe to  looke well in to  
them3 bycause they be not easily        
perceived a far of1  but creepe in to us
 by custom1 before we be a ware4 ,and1  
,as light  expences often used1 in      
,continuance of time1 doe covertly waste
 and  consume a greate masse of wealth  
and riches3 ,so doe these light faultes 
with the multitude and number of them1  
in secret overthrow all honest  and good
 civilitie and maner4 ,so yt we must not
 make a light reconing  of them4        
,moreover1 it is a nedefull observation 
to bethinke your selfe1 how  you doe    
move your bodie1 and specially in talke4
 ,for1 it many times  chaunceth1 a man  
is so ernest in his tale1 that hee hath 

no minde of  any thing els4 ,one wagges 
his head4 ,another lookes bigg and      
scowles  with his browes4 ,that man     
pulls his mouth awry4 ,and tother       
spittes in  and uppon their faces with  
whome he talkes4 ,and som suche there be
 that  move their hands in suche a      
sorte1 as if they should chase ye flies 
as they go3 which be very unhansome     
unseemely maners to use4 ,and ,i  have  
heard it saide 7for you knowe ,i have   
byn familiarly acquainted  with learned 
men in my time7 that ,pindarus that     
worthy man was wont to  saye3 that      
,whatsoever it were that had a good     
savourie taste3 was  seasoned by the    
hands of the ,graces4 ,now1 what shall  
,i speake of them  yt come forthe of    
their studies with their penne in their 
eare3 and  nibble their hankercheifs in 
their mouthe1 or ly lolling wt their    
legge  over the table1 or spit one their
 fingers1 and of a number of other      
blockishe gestures and fashions more    
then these1 which cannot be all         

rehearsed well3 nor shal not1 ,i meane1 
put me to further paines to tel  them al
 if ,i could4 ,for1 there be manie      
perchaunce will say this is to  muche1  
that ,i have said allredie4      ,,finis
          ,,bibliographical ,,note      
,,bibliographical ,,note      ,giovanni 
della ,casa1 the author of the ,galateo1
 was born near  ,florence in #aejc1 and 
died at ,rome in #aeef4 ,he took orders 
before  #aech1 and became successively  
,apostolic ,clerk1 ,apostolic           
,commissary1  ,archbishop of ,benevento1
 ,papal ,nuncio at ,venice1 and         
,secretary of ,state  under ,paul ,,iv4 
,he was distinguished as a poet1 as a   
diplomatist1 and as  an orator4    ,the 
,galateo was written between #aeea and  
#aeee1 at the suggestion of  ,galeazzo  
,florimonte1 ,bishop of ,sessa1 whose   
poetic name it bears  in consequence4   
,it was published posthumously at       
,venice1 in #aeeh1  in a volume entitled
 ,rime e ,prose di ,m4 ,giov4 della     
,casa1 and was  republished separately  

at ,milan in #aeei1 at ,florence in     
#aefj1 and often  thereafter4 ,a        
complete edition of the works of ,della 
,casa1 in three  volumes1 was edited by 
,casotti at ,florence in #agjg4    ,the 
,galateo was translated into ,french by 
,jean du ,peyrat in #aefb1 and  again1  
anonymously1 with the original and the  
translation on opposite  pages1 in      
#aegc4 ,a ,spanish version by ,domingo  
,becerra was published in  #aehe1 and   
this was followed in #aeii by a loose   
imitation by ,gracian  ,dantisco1       
entitled ,el ,galateo ,espaol1 which in 
its turn was  translated into ,english  
in #afdj by ,william ,styles as ,galateo
 ,espagnol1  or the ,spanish ,gallant4  
,in #aeih an edition of the ,galateo in 
four  languages1 ,italian1 ,french1     
,latin1 and ,spanish1 was published at  
,lyons2  and a ,german version was added
 in the editions of #afji and #afae4    
,the first ,english translation1 by     
,robert ,peterson of ,lincoln's ,inn1   
appeared in #aegf1 as ,galateo of       

,maister ,iohn ,della ,casa1            
,archebishop  of ,beneventa1 or rather a
 ,treatise of the ,manners and          
,behaviours it  behoveth a ,man to use  
in his familiar ,conversation2 and an   
edition of  it1 limited to one hundred  
copies1 was privately printed by ,h4 ,j4
 ,reid  in #ahib4 ,peterson's rendering 
is based almost entirely on the         
anonymous  ,french translation of #aegc1
 although he occasionally refers to the 
,italian original on the opposite pages4
 ,two proofs of his indebtedness  will  
suffice3 ,where the ,frenchman renders  
the single ,italian word  mezzanamente  
by the phrase avec discretion et        
mdiocrit1 ,peterson  follows him with by
 ,discretion and ,measure2 and again1   
the single  word questa in ,della ,casa 
becomes cette gracieuset et courtoisie  
in the ,french and this civilitie and   
courtesie in the ,english version4      
,at least five other ,english           
translations have been published4 ,in   
#afaf1 ,thomas ,gainsford appended to   

his ,rich ,cabinet an ,epitome of  ,good
 ,manners extracted from ,archbp4 ,j4 de
 la ,casa2 the treatise  was paraphrased
 by ,n4 ,w4 as ,the ,refin'd ,courtier  
in #affc2 in #agja1  an ,english        
translation 7from the ,latin version of 
,n4 ,chytraeus7 was  published by       
several young ,gentlemen educated at a  
private ,grammar  ,school near ,hackney1
 under the title of ,j4 ,casa his       
,galateus1 or a  ,treatise of ,manners2 
a version entitled ,galateo of ,manners 
appeared  in #agjc2 and still another   
version1 entitled ,galateo1 or a        
,treatise on  ,politeness and ,delicacy 
of ,manners1 appeared in #aggd4 ,della  
,casa was  also the author of another   
treatise on conduct1 ,trattato degli    
,uffici  communi tra gli ,amici         
superiori e inferiori1 which was        
translated  into ,english by ,henry     
,stubbe in #affe1 as ,the ,arts of      
,grandeur and  ,submission4             
,peterson's version is reproduced in the
 present work4 ,the proofs  have been   

collated with the ,british ,museum copy 
of the original #aegf  edition by ,mr4  
,w4 ,b4 ,owen1 formerly scholar of ,st4 
,catharine's ,college1  ,cambridge4 ,in 
deference to the insistence of the      
publisher and the  general editor1 a few
 passages perfume our pages only in     
their native  ,italian4                 
,j4 ,e4 ,s4                             
,,this ,,volume                         
,,with ,,title-,,page ,,by ,t4 ,m4      
,,cleland                       ,,was   
,,printed ,,by ,d4 ,b4 ,,updike         
,,at ,,the ,,merrymount ,,press         
,,boston1 ,u4,s4,a4                     
,,mdcccc                                
,,xiv          ,transcriber's ,notes3   
,punctuation errors repaired4    ,the   
following correction has been made to   
the text3         ,page #hh3 not shoofle
 them together at randomoriginal reads  
randon