Chapter II: Part 2

Hold you pleased with the meat and drink set before you, nor ask for better. Wipe your mouth before you drink lest it foul the edge of the cup; and keep your fingers, your lips and your chin clean, if you would win a good name. When your meat is in your mouth, do not drink or speak or laugh—Dame Courtesy forbids. Praise your fare, wheresoever you be, for whether it be good or bad it must be taken in good part.

Whether you spit near or far, hold your hand before your mouth to hide it.

Keep your knife clean and sharp, and cleanse it on some cut bread, not on the cloth, I bid you; a courteous man is careful of the cloth. Do not put your spoon in the dish or on the edge of it, as the untaught do, or make a noise when you sup as do boys. Do not put the meat off your trencher into the dish, but get a voider and empty it into that.

When your better hands you a cup, take it with both hands lest it fall, and drink yourself and set it by; and if he speaks to you, doff your cap and bow your knee.

Do not scratch yourself at the table so that men call you a daw,[69] nor wipe your nose or nostrils, else men will say you are come of churls. Make neither the cat nor the dog your fellow at the table. And do not play with the spoon, or your trencher, or your knife; but lead your life in cleanliness and honest manners.

This book is made for young children that bide not long at the school.[70] It may soon be conned and learned, and will make them good if they be bad. God give them grace to be virtuous, for so may they thrive.

Amen! quoth Kate.[70]

STANS PUER AD MENSAM[71]

MY dear son, first thyself enable
With all thine heart to virtuous discipline;
Afore thy sovereign, standing at the table,
Dispose thou thyself, after my doctrine,
To all nurture thy courage to incline.
First, let all recklessness in speaking cease,
And keep both hands and fingers still at peace.

Be simple of cheer, cast not thy look aside,
Gaze not about, nor turn thy sight over all;
Against the post let not thy back abide,
Neither make thy mirror of the wall.
Pick not thy nose, and most in speciál,
Be well aware and set hereon thy thought:
Before thy sovereign nor scratch nor pick thee nought.

Whoso speak to thee in any manner place,
Lumpishly cast not thy head adown,
But with sober cheer look in his face;
Demurely walk through streets while in the town.
And take good heed of wisdom and renown,
That by no wanton laughing thou do no offence,
Before thy sovereign, while he is in presence.

Pare clean thy nails, and wash thy hands also,
Before thy meat and when thou dost arise;
Sit in that place thou art assignéd to,
Press not too high in any manner wise.
And when thy dinner served before thee lies,
Be not too hasty upon thy bread to bite,
Lest men of greediness should thee indict.[72]

Grinning and mowing[73] at the table eschew;
Cry not too loud; honestly keep silence.
To stuff thy jaws with bread it is not due,
With full mouth speak not, lest thou do offence.
Drink not with bridle[74] for haste or negligence
Keep clean thy lips from fat of flesh or fish;
Wipe fair thy spoon, nor leave it in thy dish.

Of bitten bread with thy teeth no sops think thou to make;
Loud for to sup gainsays all gentleness.
With mouth imbrued[75] thy cup thou must not take,
In ale, in wine, with hand leave no fatnéss;
Nor foul the napery through recklessness.
Beware that at the meat thou begin no strife.
Thy teeth at table pick not with no knife.

Of honest mirth let be thy dalliance,
Swear no oaths and speak no ribaldry;
The best morsels—have this in remembrance—
Wholly thyself to take do not apply.
Part with thy fellows, for that is courtesy.
Heap not thy trencher high with many morséls,
And from blackness alway keep thy nails.

Of courtesy it is against the law
With rudeness, son, to make cause of offence;
Of old forfeits[76] upbraid not thy fellow;
Toward thy sovereign do reverence.
Play with no knife—take heed to my sentence.
At meat and at supper keep thee still and soft;
Eke to and fro move not thy feet too oft.

Drop not thy breast with stew[77] and other pottáge,
Bring no unscoured knives unto the table;
Fill not thy spoon lest in the carriáge
It spill aside, which were not commendáble.
Be quick and ready, meek and serviceáble,
Well awaiting to fulfil anon
What that thy sovereign commandeth to be done.

And wheresoever thou be to dine or sup,
Of gentleness, take salt with thy knife.
And be well aware thou blow not in the cup.
Reverence thy fellows, begin with them no strife.
To thy power keep peace all thy life.
Interrupt no man, whereso that thou wend,
No man in his tale, till he have made an end.

With thy fingers mark thou not thy tale.
Be well advised, and namely, in tender age,
To drink measurably both wine and ale.
Be not too copious of thy languáge.
As time requireth, show not thy viságe
Too glad nor sorry, but keep thee even between,
For loss, or lucre, or any case suddén.

Be soft[78] in measure, not hasty but tractáble;
Over-soft is nought, in no manner thing.
To children belongeth not to be vengeáble,[79]
Soon movéd and full soon again fighting;[80]
And as it is remembered by writing:
Wrath of children is soon overgone;
With the parts of an apple they be made at one.[81]

In children war is now mirth and now debate;
In their quarrel is no great violence;
Now play, now weeping, and seldom in one estate,
To their complaints give never any credénce.
A rod reformeth all their negligence.
In their courage[82] no rancour doth abide.
Who that spareth the rod all virtues sets aside.

Ah, little ballad, void of eloquence,[83]
I pray young children that thee shall see and read,
Though thou be copious of sentence,
Yet to thy clauses for to take heed,
Which into all virtue shall their youth lead.
In this writing, though there be no date,
If aught be amiss in word, syllable or deed,
I submit me to correction without any debate.

HOW THE GOOD WIFE TAUGHT HER DAUGHTER

THE good wife taught her daughter,
Full many a time and oft,
A full good woman to be;
For said she: “Daughter to me dear,
Something good now must thou hear,
If thou wilt prosper thee.

Daughter, if thou wilt be a wife,
Look wisely that thou work;
Look lovely and in good life,
Love God and Holy Kirk.[84]
Go to church whene’er thou may,
Look thou spare for no rain,
For best thou farest on that day;
To commune with God be fain.
He must needs well thrive,
That liveth well all his life,[85]
My lief[86] child.

Gladly give thy tithes and thy offerings both,
To the poor and the bed-rid—look thou be not loth.
Give of thine own goods and be not too hard,
For seldom is the house poor where God is stewárd.
Well is he provéd
Who the poor hath lovéd,
My lief child.

When thou sittest in the church, o’er thy beads bend;
Make thou no jangling with gossip or with friend.
Laugh thou to scorn neither old body nor young,
But be of fair bearing and of good tongue.
Through thy fair bearing
Thy worship hath increasing,
My lief child.

If any man offer thee courtship, and would marry thee,
Look that thou scorn him not, whatsoever he be;[87]
But show it to thy friends and conceal it naught.
Sit not by him nor stand where sin might be wrought,
For a slander raised of ill
Is evil for to still,
My lief child.

The man that shall thee wed before God with a ring,
Love thou him and honour most of earthly thing.
Meekly thou him answer and not as an atterling,[88]
So may’st thou slake his mood,[89] and be his dear darling.
A fair word and a meek
Doth anger slake,
My lief child.

Fair of speech shalt thou be, glad and of mild mood,
True in word and in deed, and in conscience good.
Keep thee from sin, from villainy and from blame;
And look thou bear thee so that none say of thee shame,
For he that in good life hath run,
Full oft his weal hath won,
My lief child.

Be of seemly semblance, wise, and other good cheer;
Change not thy countenance for aught that thou may hear.
Fare not as a gig,[90] for nought that may betide.
Laugh thou not too loud nor yawn thou not too wide.
But laugh thou soft and mild,
And be not of cheer too wild,
My lief child.

And when thou goest on thy way, go thou not too fast,
Brandish not with thy head, nor with thy shoulders cast,[91]
Have not too many words, from swearing keep aloof,
For all such manners come to an evil proof.
For he that catcheth to him an evil name,
It is to him a foul fame,
My lief child.

Go thou not into the town, as it were agaze,[92]
From one house to another, for to seek the maze;[93]
Nor to sell thy russet,[94] to the market shalt thou go,
And then to the tavern to bring thy credit low.
For they that taverns haunt
From thrift soon come to want,
My lief child.

And if thou be in any place where good ale is aloft,[95]
Whether that thou serve thereof or that thou sit soft,
Measurably thou take thereof, that thou fall in no blame,
For if thou be often drunk, it falleth to thy shame.
For those that be often drunk—
Thrift is from them sunk,
My lief child.

Go not to the wrestling or shooting at the cock,[96]
As it were a strumpet or a gigggelot[97];
Dwell at home, daughter, and love thy work much,
And so thou shalt, my lief child, wax the sooner rich.
A merry thing ’tis evermore,
A man to be served of his own store,
My lief child.

Acquaint thee not with each man that goeth by the street,
Though any man speak to thee, swiftly[98] thou him greet;
By him do not stand, but let him his way depart,
Lest he by his villainy should tempt thy heart.
For all men be not true
That fair words can shew,
My lief child.

Also, for covetousness gifts beware to take;
Unless thou know why else,[99] quickly them forsake;
For with gifts may men soon women overcome,
Though they were as true as steel or as stone.
Bound forsooth is she
That of any man takes fee,[100]
My lief child.

And wisely govern thy house, and serving maids and men,
Be thou not too bitter or too debonaire with them;
But look well what most needs to be done,
And set thy people at it, both rathely[101] and soon.
For ready is at need
A foredone[102] deed,
My lief child.

And if thy husband be from home, let not thy folk do ill,
But look who doeth well and who doeth nil;
And he that doeth well, quit him well his while,
But he that doeth other, serve him as the vile.
A foredone deed
Will another speed,[103]
My lief child.

And if thy time be strait and great be thy need,
Then like a housewife set to work with speed;
Then will they all do better that about thee stand,
For work is sooner done that hath full many a hand.
For many a hand and wight
Makes a heavy work light;
And after thy good service,
Thy name shall arise,
My lief child.

Whate’er thy household doth, about them must thou wend,
And as much as thou mayest, be at that one end,
If thou find any fault, make them soon amend,
As they have time and space, and may them defend.
To compel a deed be done, if there be no space,
It is but tyranny, without temperance and grace,
My lief child.

And look that all things be well when they their work forsake,
Forget thou not the keys into thy ward to take
And beware to whom thou trustest, and for no fancy spare,
For much harm hath fallen to them that be not ’ware.
But, daughter, look thou be wise, and do as I thee teach,
And trust none better than thyself, for no fair speech,
My lief child.

And give your household their hire at their term-day,[104]
Whether they dwell still with thee, or they wend away.
Do well by them of the goods thou hast in hold,
And then shall they say well of thee, both the young and old.
Thy good name to thy friends
Great joy and gladness lends,
My lief child.

And if thy neighbour’s wife hath on rich attire,
Therefore mock not, nor let scorn burn thee as a fire.
But thank thou God in heaven for what He may thee give,
And so shalt thou, my daughter dear, a good life live,
He hath ease in his power,
Who thanks the Lord every hour,
My lief child.

Housewifely thou shalt go on the working day,
For pride, rest, and idleness take thrift away;
But when the Holy Day is come, well clothéd shalt thou be,
The Holy Day to honour, and God will cherish thee.
Have in mind to worship God alway,
For much pride comes of the evil day,
My lief child.

When thou art a wife, a neighbour for to be,
Love then well thy neighbours as God hath commanded thee.
It behoveth thee so for to do,
And to do to them as thou would’st be done to.
If any discord happen, night or day,
Make it no worse, mend it if thou may,
My lief child.

And if thou art a rich wife, be not then too hard,
But welcome fair thy neighbours that come to-thee-ward
With meat, drink, and honest cheer, such as thou mayest bid,[105]
To each man after his degree, and help the poor at need.
And also for hap that may betide,
Please well thy neighbours that dwell thee beside,
My lief child.

Daughter, look that thou beware, whatsoever thee betide,
Make not thy husband poor with spending or with pride.
A man must spend as he may that hath but easy good,[106]
For as a wren hath veins, men must let her blood.[107]
His thrift waxeth thin
That spendeth ere he win,
My lief child.

Borrow not too busily, nor take thine hire first,
This may make the more need, and end by being worst.
Nor make thee not to seem rich with other men’s store,
Therefore spend thou never a farthing more.
For though thou borrow fast,
It must home again at last,
My lief child.

And if thy children be rebel and will not bow them low,
If any of them misdo, neither curse them nor blow;[108]
But take a smart rod and beat them in a row,
Till they cry mercy and their guilt well know.
Dear child, by this lore
They will love thee ever more,
My lief child.

And look to thy daughters that none of them be lorn;
From the very time that they are of thee born,
Busy thyself and gather fast for their marriage,
And give them to spousing as soon as they be of age.
Maidens be fair and amiable,
But in their love full unstable,
My lief child.

Now have I taught thee, daughter, as my mother did me;
Think thereon night and day, that forgotten it not be.
Have measure and lowness, as I have thee taught,
Then whatever man shall wed thee will regret it naught.
Better you were a child unbore
Than untaught in this wise lore,
My lief child.

Now thrift and speed be thine, my sweet bairn [near or far]!
Of all our former fathers that ever were or are,
Of all patriarchs and prophets that ever were alive,—
Their blessing may’st thou have, and well may’st thou thrive!
For well it is with that child
That with sin is not defiled,
My lief child.

The blessing of God may’st thou have, and of His mother bright,
Of all angels and archangels and every holy wight![109]
And may’st thou have grace to wend thy way full right,
To the bliss of heaven, where God sits in His might!”
Amen.

HOW THE WISE MAN TAUGHT HIS SON

LISTEN, lordlings, and ye shall hear how the wise man taught his son. Take good heed to this matter and learn it if ye can, for this song was made with good intent to make men true and steadfast, and a thing well begun makes often a good ending.

There was a wise man taught his son while he was yet a child of tender years, meek and fair to look upon, very eager for learning and with a great desire to all goodness; and his father taught him well and featly by good example and fair words.

He said: “My son, take good heed every morning, ere ye do worldly thing, lift up your heart to God, and pray as devoutly as you can for grace to lead a good life, and to escape sin both night and day, and that heaven’s bliss may be your meed.

“And, my son, wherever you go, be not full of tales; beware what you say, for your own tongue may be your foe. If you say aught, take good heed where and to whom, for a word spoken to-day may be repented seven years after.

“And, son, whatever manner of man ye be, give yourself not to idleness, but busy yourself every day according to your estate. Beware of rest and ease, which things nourish sloth. Ever to be busy, more or less, is a full good sign of honesty.[110]

“And, son, I warn you also not to desire to bear office, for then can it be no other than that you must either displease and hurt your neighbours, or else forswear yourself and not do as your office demands; and get yourself, _maugré_,[111] here and there, an hundredfold more than thanks.

“And, son, as far as you may, go on no evil quests, nor bear false witness in any man’s matter. It were better for you to be deaf and dumb than to enter wrongfully into a quest. Think, son, on the dreadful doom that God shall deem[112] us at the last!

“And, son, of another thing I warn you, on my blessing take good heed of tavern-haunting, and of the dice, and flee all lechery, lest you come to an evil end, for it will lead astray all your wits and bring you into great mischief.

“And, son, sit not up too long at even, or have late suppers, though ye be strong and hale, for with such outrage your health shall worsen. And of late walking comes debate,[113] and of sitting and drinking out of time, therefore beware and go to bed betimes and wink.

“And, son, if ye would have a wife, take her not for her money, but inquire wisely of all her life, and give good heed that she be meek, courteous and prudent, even though she be poor; and such an one will do you more good service in time of need, than a richer.

“And if your wife be meek and good, and serve you well and pleasantly, look ye be not so mad as to charge her too grievously, but rule her with a fair hand and easy, and cherish her for her good deeds. For a thing unskilfully overdone makes needless grief to grow, and it is better to have a meal’s meat of homely fare with peace and quiet, than an hundred dishes with grudging and much care. And therefore learn this well that if you want a wife to your ease, take her never the more for the riches she may have, though she might endow you with lands.

“And ye shall not displease your wife, nor call her by no villainous names, for it is a shame to you to miscall a woman; and in so doing, ye are not wise, for if ye defame your own wife, no wonder that another should do so! Soft and fair will tame alike hart and hind, buck and doe.

“On the other hand, be not too hasty to fight or chide, if thy wife come to you at any time with complaint of man or child; and be not avenged till you know the truth, for you might make a stir in the dark, and afterwards it should rue you both.

“And, son, if you be well at ease, and sit warm among your neighbours, do not get new-fangled ideas, or be hasty to change, or to flit;[114] for if ye do, ye lack wit and are unstable, and men will speak of it and say: ‘This fool can bide nowhere!’

“And, son, the more goods you have, the rather bear you meekly, and be humble, and boast not overmuch; it is wasted, for by their boasting men know fools.

“And look you pay well what you owe, and set no great store by other riches, for death takes both high and low, and then—farewell, all that there is! And therefore do by my counsel, and take example from other men, how little their goods avail them when they be dolven[115] in their dens;[116] and one that was not of his kin hath his wife, and all that there is.[117]

“Son, keep you from deadly sin, and assay to enter Paradise. Make amends for your trespasses and deal out of your goods to poor men, make friends of your foes, and strive to gain salvation for your soul, for the world is false and frail, and every day doth worsen. Son, set nought by this world’s weal, for it fares as a ripe cherry. And death is ever, I trow, the most certain thing that is; and nothing is so uncertain as to know the time thereof. Therefore, my son, think on this, on all that I have said, and may Jesus, who for us bare the crown of thorns, bring us to His bliss.”

AMEN.

JOHN RUSSELL’S BOOK OF NURTURE

“IN nomine Patris, God keep me, et Filii, for charity, Et Spiritus Sancti, where that I go by land or else by sea!

An usher I am ye may behold to a prince of high degree, That enjoys to inform and teach all those that would thrive in prosperity.”

Should I meet with any man who either through inexperience or through negligence knows naught of such things as I shall hereafter diligently show, for my conscience’ sake I will instruct him; for methinks it is charitable to teach virtue and good manners, in which most youths are barren and dull. But if there be any who can nothing good and are not willing to learn, give them a bauble to play with, for they will never thrive.

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“As I rose out of my bed, in a merry season of May,
To sport me in a forest, where sights were fresh and gay,
I met with the forester; I prayed him to say me not nay,
That in his woodland I might walk among the deer away.
As I wandered at will, in the wood that was so green,
There lay three herds of deer, a seemly sight, I ween.
I beheld on my right hand the sun that shone so sheen;
I saw where walked a seemly young man, that slender was and lean.
His bow he took in hand toward the deer to stalk,
I prayed him his shot to leave and softly with me to walk.”

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Thereupon the young man was glad and loved to talk with me; but when I inquired whom he served, he said: “God help me, sir, I serve myself and else no other man.”

“Is thy governance good[118]?” I said. “My son, tell me if thou wilt.”

“I would I were out of this world,” said he; “I reck not how soon when!”

“Say not so, good son, beware! Methinks you mean amiss for God forbids wanhope,[119] which is a horrible sin. Therefore, good son, open your heart to me, peradventure I can relieve you. Remember that when bale[120] is highest, boot[121] is nighest.”

“In truth, sir, I have sought far and near in many a wildsome way to get me a master. But because I knew nothing good, and showed this wherever I went, every man denied me; day by day, wanton[122] and over-nice, reckless, lewd and chattering like a jay, every man refused me.”

“Now, good son, if I will teach, will you learn? Will you be a serving-man, a ploughman, a labourer, a courtier, a clerk, a merchant, a mason or an artificer, a chamberlain, a butler, a panter or a carver?”

“Teach me, sir, the duties of a butler, a panter or a chamberlain, and especially, the cunning of a carver. If you will make me to know all these, I will pray for your soul that it come never in pain!”

“Son, I will teach you with right good will, so as you will love and fear God as is right and proper, be true to your master, and not waste his goods, but love and fear him, and duly fulfil his commandments.”

_The Duties of a Panter or Butler_

“The first year, my son, you shall be panter or butler. In the pantry, you must always keep three sharp knives, one to chop the loaves, another to pare them, and a third, sharp and keen, to smooth and square the trenchers with.[123]

“Always cut your lord’s bread, and see that it be new; and all other bread at the table one day old ere you cut it, all household bread three days old, and trencher-bread four days old.

“Look that your salt be fine, white, fair, and dry; and have your salt-plane of ivory, two inches wide and three long; and see to it that the lid of the salt-cellar touch not the salt.

“Good son, look that your napery be sweet and clean, and that your table-cloth, towel, and napkin be folded neatly, your table-knives brightly polished and your spoons fair washed—ye wot well what I mean.

“Look ye have two wine-augers, a greater and a less, some gutters of boxwood that fit them, also a gimlet to pierce with, a tap and a bung, ready to stop the flow when it is time. So when you broach a pipe, good son, do after my teaching: pierce or bore with an auger or gimlet, slanting upward, four fingers’ breadth from the lower rim, so as not to cause the lees to rise—I warn you especially.”

[Here follows a list of fruits and preserves, which presently becomes a mere dietary, ll. 73-108.]

“Take good heed to the wines, red, white, and sweet; look to them every night with a candle, to see that they neither ferment nor leak. Never forget to wash the heads of the pipes with cold water every night; and always carry a gimlet, adze and linen clouts,[124] large and small. If the wine ferment, ye shall know by its singing, so keep at hand a pipe of _couleur de rose_,[125] that has been spent in drinking and add to the fermentation the dregs of this, and it shall be amended. If sweet wine be sick or pallid, put in a Romney to improve it.”

[Then follows a list of the sweet wines, and a long recipe for _Hippocras_, ll. 117-176.]

_The Buttery_

“See that your cups and pots be clean, both within and without. Serve no ale till it is five days old, for new ale is wasteful.[125] And look that all things about you be sweet and clean.

“Be fair of answer, ready to serve, and gentle of cheer, and then men will say; ‘There goes a gentle officer.’

“Beware that ye give no person stale drink, for fear that ye bring many a man into disease for many a year.[125]

“My son, it is now the time of day to lay the table. First, wipe it with a cloth ere it be spread, then lay on it a cloth called a _cowche_.[125] You take one end and your mate the other, and draw it straight; and lay a second cloth with its fold on the outer edge of the table.[126] Lift the upper part and let it hang even. And then lay the third cloth with its fold on the inner edge, making a _state_[126] half a foot wide, with the top. Cover your ewery-cupboard[127] with a diapered-towel, and put a towel round your neck,[126] for that is courtesy, and put one end of it mannerly over your left arm; and on the same arm place your lord’s napkin, and on it lay eight loaves of bread, with three or four trencher-loaves. Take one end of the towel in your left hand, as the manner is, together with the salt-cellar—look you do this—and take the other end of the towel in your right hand with the spoons and knives.

“Set the salt on your lord’s right hand, and to the left of your salt, one or two trenchers, and to the left again, your knife by itself and plain to see, and the white rolls, and beside them a spoon upon a fair folded napkin. Cover your spoon, napkin, trencher and knife, so that they cannot be seen; and at the other end of the table place a salt with two trenchers.

“If you wish to wrap up your lord’s bread in a stately fashion, first square off the bread sharply and evenly, and see that no bun or loaf be larger in proportion to the others, and so shall ye be able to wrap it up mannerly for your master. Take a towel of Rennes cloth,[128] two and a half yards long, fold it lengthwise[128] and lay it on the table. Roll up a handful from each end tightly and stiffly, then in the middle of the towel place eight loaves or buns, bottom to bottom, and then wrap them wisely and skilfully. To tell you more plainly for your information: take the ends of the towel that lies on the bread, draw them out and twist tightly a handful nearest the bread and smooth the wrapper stiffly. When it is ready, you must open one end all in a moment before your lord.

When your sovereign’s table is dressed in this array, place salts on all the other tables, and lay trenchers and cups; and then set out your cupboard with gay silver and silver-gilt, and your ewery board with basins and ewers, and hot and cold water, each to temper the other. Look that you have ever enough napkins, spoons and cups for your lord’s table; also, for your own dignity, that your pots for ale and wine be as clean as possible, and beware ever of flies and motes, for your own sake.

“With lowly courtesy, make the surnape[129] with a cloth under a double of fair napery; fold the two ends of the towel to the outer edge of the cloth, and so hold the three ends together; then fold them all so that there is a pleat at about a foot’s distance, and lay it fair and smooth for your lord to wash after meat, if he will. At the right side of the table, you must guide it along, and the marshal must slip it further—the right side up of all three cloths—and let it be drawn straight and even, both in length and breadth; then raise the upper part of the towel and lay it without wrinkling straight to the other side so that half a yard or an ell hangs down at each end, where the sewer[129] may make a _state_, and so please his master. When your lord has washed, you must take up the surnape with your two arms, and carry it back to the ewery yourself.

“Carry a towel about your neck when serving your lord, bow to him, uncover your bread and set it by the salt. Look that all have knives, spoons and napkins, and always when you pass your lord, see that you bow your knees.

“Go forth to the _port-payne_[130] and there take eight loaves, and put four at each end of the table, and be sure that each person has a spoon and a napkin.

“Watch the sewer to see how many pottages he covers, and do ye for as many, and serve each according to his degree; and see that none lack bread, ale or wine.

“Be glad of cheer, courteous of knee, soft of speech; have clean hands and nails and be carefully dressed.

“Do not cough or spit or retch too loud, or put your fingers into the cups to seek bits of dust.

“Have an eye to all grumbling and fault-finding, and prevent backbiting of their fellows among the lords at meat, by serving all with bread, ale and wine; and so shall ye have of all men good love and praise.”

_Simple Conditions_

“I will that ye eschew forever the ‘simple conditions’ of a person that is not taught.

“Do not claw your head or your back as if you were after a flea, or stroke your hair as if you sought a louse.

“Be not glum,[131] nor twinkle with your eyes, nor be heavy of cheer; and keep your eyes free from winking and watering.[132]

“Do not pick your nose or let it drop clear pearls, or sniff, or blow it too loud, lest your lord hear.

“Twist not your neck askew like a jackdaw; wring not your hands with picking or trifling or shrugging, as if ye would saw [wood]; nor puff up your chest, nor pick your ears, nor be slow of hearing.

“Retch not, nor spit too far, nor laugh or speak too loud. Beware of making faces and scorning; and be no liar with your mouth. Nor yet lick your lips or drivel.

“Do not have the habit of squirting or spouting with your mouth, or gape, or yawn, or pout. And do not lick a dish with your tongue to get out dust.

“Be not rash or reckless—that is not worth a clout.

“Do not sigh with your breast, or cough, or breathe hard in the presence of your sovereign, or hiccough, or belch, or groan never the more. Do not trample with your feet, or straddle your legs, or scratch your body—there is no sense in showing off. Good son, do not pick your teeth, or grind, or gnash them, or with puffing and blowing cast foul breath upon your lord.... These gallants in their short coats—that is ungoodly guise. Other faults on this matter, I spare not to disapprove in my opinion, when [a servant] is waiting on his master at table. Every sober sovereign must despise all such things.

“A man might find many more conditions than are named here; but let every honest servant avoid them for his own credit.

“Panter, yeoman of the cellar, butler and ewerer, I will that ye obey the marshal, sewer and carver.”

“Good sir, I pray you teach me the skill of carving, and the fair handling of a knife, and all the ways that I shall break open, unlace and penetrate all manner of fowl, flesh and fish—how I shall demean me with each.”

[_Office of a Carver_]

“My son, thy knife must be clean and bright; and it beseems thee to have thy hands fair washed. Hold always thy knife surely, so as not to hurt thyself, and have not more than two fingers and the thumb on thy keen knife.

“Midway in thy hand, set the end of thy haft firmly; and unlace and mince with the thumb and two fingers only. In cutting and placing bread, and voiding of crumbs and trencher, look you have skill with two fingers and the thumb. Likewise, never use more for fish, flesh, beast or fowl—that is courtesy.

“Touch no manner of meat with thy right hand, but with thy left, as is proper. Always with thy left hand grasp the loaf with all thy might; and hold thy knife firmly, as I have instructed thee. Ye do not right to soil your table, nor to wipe your knives on that, but on your napkin.

“First take a loaf of trenchers in your left hand, then your table-knife, as I have said before; and with its edge raising your trencher up by you as near the point as you may, lay it before your lord. Right so set four trenchers, one by another, four square, and upon them a single trencher alone. And take your loaf of light bread, as I have told you, and cut with the edge of the knife near your hand; first pare the quarters of the loaf round all about, and cut the upper crust[133] for your lord, and bow to him; and suffer the other part to remain still at the bottom, and so nigh spent out,[134] and lay him of the crumbs a quarter of the loaf.

“Touch not the loaf after it is so trimmed; put it on a platter or on the beforenamed alms-dish. Make clean your board that ye be not blamed; and so shall the sewer serve his lord, and neither of you be vexed.”

[Here follows a list of _Fumosities_, indigestibilities, as Dr. Furnivall calls them, ll. 349-68. The young man then says:]

“Now fair befal you, father, and well may ye [a]chieve
For these points by practice I hope full well to prove;
And yet shall I pray for you daily while that I live,
Both for body and soul that God you guide from grief.”

[He then begs to be taught the art of “carving of fish and flesh[133] after the cook’s care,” and receives detailed instructions for every sort of food, roasted, baked and fried, for the serving of soups, making of sauces and carving of fish, ll. 377-649. He then says:]

“Now, father, fair fall ye, and Christ you have in cure,
For of the nurture of carving, I suppose that I be sure.
But yet another office there is, save I dare not endure
To ask you any further, for fear of displeasure.
For to be a sewer I would I had the cunning,
Then durst I do my devoir[135] with any worshipful to be woning;[136]
Since that I know the course and the craft of carving,
I would see the sight of a sewer, what way he showeth in serving.”

_Office of a Sewer_

“Now since, my son, you wish to learn this science, dread nothing of great difficulty; I will gladly teach you, if you will but listen.

“Take heed when the worshipful head of any household has washed before meat and begins to say grace, then hie you to the kitchen where the servants must attend and take your orders. First ask the panter or officer of the spicery for fruits, such as butter, plums, damsons, grapes and cherries, which are served before dinner according to the season to make men merry, and ask if any such are to be served that day. Then commune with the cook and surveyor[137] as to what meats and how many dishes are prepared. When they two have agreed with you, then must the cook dress up all dishes to the surveying-board,[138] and the surveyor must soberly and without turmoil deliver up the dishes to you, that you may convey them to your lord. When you are at the board of service, see that you have courtly and skilful officers to prevent any dish being stolen, which might easily cause a scandal to arise in your service as sewer. See that you have proper servants to carry the dishes, marshals, squires and serjeants-at-arms, if they be there, to bring the dishes without delay or injury from the kitchen, and you need not fear to set them on the table yourself.”[139]

[Then follow various menus, ll. 686-858. The young man answers:]

“Now fair fall you, father, in faith, I am full fain;
For lovesomely ye have taught me this nurture again.
Pleaseth it you to certify me with one word or twain,
The courtesy to conceive conveniently for every chamberlain?”

_The Office of a Chamberlain_

“The duty of a chamberlain is to be diligent in office, neatly clad, his clothes not torn, hands and face well washed and head well kempt.

“He must be ever careful—not negligent—of fire and candle. And look you[140] give diligent attendance to your master, be courteous, glad of cheer, quick of hearing in every way, and be ever on the lookout for things to do him pleasure; if you will acquire these qualities, it may advance you well.

“See that your lord has a clean shirt and hose, a short coat,[141] a doublet, and a long coat, if he wear such, his hose well brushed, his socks at hand, his shoes or slippers as brown as a water-leech.[140]

“In the morning, against your lord shall rise, take care that his linen be clean, and warm it at a clear fire, not smoky, if [the weather] be cold or freezing.

“When he rises make ready the foot-sheet, and forget not to place a chair or some other seat with a cushion on it before the fire, with another cushion for the feet. Over the cushion and chair spread this sheet so as to cover them; and see that you have a kerchief and a comb to comb your lord’s head before he is fully dressed.

“Then pray your lord in humble words to come to a good fire and array him thereby, and there to sit or stand pleasantly; and wait with due manners to assist him. First hold out to him his tunic, then his doublet while he puts in his arms, and have his stomacher well aired to keep off harm, as also his vamps[142] and socks, and so shall he go warm all day.

“Then draw on his socks and his hose by the fire, and lace or buckle his shoes, draw his hosen on well and truss them up to the height that suits him, lace his doublet in every hole, and put round his neck and on his shoulders a kerchief; and then gently comb his head with an ivory comb, and give him water wherewith to wash his hands and face.

“Then kneel down on your knee and say thus: ‘Sir, what robe or gown doth it please you to wear to-day?’ Then get him such as he asks for, and hold it out for him to put on, and do on his girdle, if he wear one, tight or loose, arrange his robe in the proper fashion, give him a hood or hat for his head, a cloak or _cappe-de-huse_,[143] according as it be fair or foul, or all misty with rain; and so shall ye please him. Before he goes out, brush busily about him, and whether he wear satin, sendal,[144] velvet, scarlet[145] or grain,[146] see that all be clean and nice.

“If he be prince or prelate or other potentate, before he go to church see that all things for the pew be made ready, and forget not cushion, carpet, curtain, beads or book.

“Then return in haste to your lord’s chamber, strip the clothes off the bed and cast them aside, and beat the feather-bed, but not so as to waste any feathers, and see that the blankets and sheets be clean. When you have made the bed mannerly, cover it with a coverlet, spread out the bench-covers,[147] and cushions, set up the head-sheet[148] and pillow, and remove the basin. See that carpets[149] be laid round the bed and dress the windows, and the cupboard with carpets[149] and cushions. See there be a good fire conveyed into the chamber, with plenty of wood and fuel to make it up....

“_The Wardrobe_

“You must attend busily to your lord’s wardrobe, to keep the clothes well, and to brush them cleanly. Use a soft brush, and remember that overmuch brushing easily wears out cloth.

“Never let woollen clothes or furs go a sevennight without being brushed or shaken, for moths be always ready to alight in them and engender; so always keep an eye on drapery and skinnery.

“If your lord take a nap after his meal to digest his stomach, have ready kerchief and comb, pillow and head-sheet; yet be not far from him—take heed what I say—for much sleep is not good in the middle of the day, and have ready water and towel so that he may wash after his sleep.

“When he has supped and goes to his chamber, spread forth your foot-sheet, as I have already shown you, take off his gown or whatever garment by the license of his estate he wears,[150] and lay it up in such place as ye best know. Put a mantle on his back to keep his body from cold, set him on the foot-sheet, made ready as I have directed, and pull off his shoes, socks and hosen, and throw these last over your shoulder, or hold them on your arm. Comb his hair, but first kneel down, and put on his kerchief and nightcap wound[150] in seemly fashion. Have the bed, head-sheet and pillow ready; and when he is in bed, there to sleep safe and sound, draw the curtains round about the bed, set there his night-light with wax or Paris-candle,[150] and see that there is enough to last the night, drive out the dog and the cat, giving them a clout, take no leave of your lord, but bow low to him and retire, and thus shall ye have thanks and reward whensoever it fall.”

“_A Bath or Stew so-called_

“If your lord wishes to bathe and wash his body clean, hang sheets round the roof, every one full of flowers and sweet green herbs, and have five or six sponges to sit or lean upon, and see that you have one big sponge to sit upon, and a sheet over so that he may bathe there for a while, and have a sponge also for under his feet, if there be any to spare, and always be careful that the door is shut. Have a basin full of hot fresh herbs and wash his body with a soft sponge, rinse him with fair warm rose-water, and throw it over him; then let him go to bed; but see that the bed be sweet and nice; and first put on his socks and slippers that he may go near the fire and stand on his foot-sheet, wipe him dry with a clean cloth, and take him to bed to cure his troubles.”

“_The Making of a Medicinable Bath_

“Boil together hollyhock,[151] mallow, wall pellitory and brown fennel, danewort, St. John’s wort, centaury, ribwort and camomile, heyhove, heyriff, herb-benet, bresewort, smallage, water speedwell, scabious, bugloss (?), and wild flax which is good for aches—boil withy leaves and green oats together with them, and throw them hot into a vessel and put your lord over it and let him endure for a while as hot as he can, being covered over and closed on every side; and whatever disease, grievance or pain ye be vexed with, this medicine shall surely make you whole, as men say.”

“_The Office of Usher and Marshal_

“An usher or marshal, without fail, must know all the estates of the Church, and the excellent estate of a king with his honourable blood. This is a notable nurture, cunning, curious and commendable.

“The estate of the Pope has no peer, an emperor is next him everywhere and a King is correspondent, a high cardinal next in dignity, then a King’s son (ye call him prince), an archbishop his equal; a duke of the blood royal; a bishop, marquis and earl coequal; a viscount, legate, baron, suffragan and mitred abbot; a baron of the exchequer, the three chief justices and the Mayor of London; a cathedral prior, unmitred abbot and knight bachelor; a prior, dean, archdeacon, knight and body esquire; the Master of the Rolls (as I reckon aright), and puisne judge; clerk of the crown and the exchequer, and you may pleasantly prefer the Mayor of Calais.[152]

“A provincial,[153] doctor of divinity and prothonotary[154] may dine together; and you may place the pope’s legate or collector with a doctor of both laws. An ex-mayor of London ranks with a serjeant-at-law, next a Mastery of Chancery, and then a worshipful preacher of pardons,[155] masters of arts, and religious orders, parsons and vicars, and parish priests with a cure, the bailiffs of a city, a yeoman of the crown, and serjeant-of-arms with his mace, with him a herald, the King’s herald in the first place, worshipful merchants and rich artificers, gentlemen well-nurtured and of good manners, together with gentlewomen and lords’ foster-mothers[156]—all these may eat with squires.

“Lo, son, I have now told you, after my simple wit, the rank of every estate according to his degree, and now I will show you how they should be grouped at table in respect of their dignity, and how they should be served.

“The pope, an emperor, king, cardinal, prince with a golden royal rod,[157] archbishop in his pall—all these for their dignity ought not to dine in the hall.

“A bishop, viscount, marquis, goodly earl may sit at two messes if they be agreeable thereunto.

“The Mayor of London, a baron, a mitred abbot, the three chief justices, the Speaker of Parliament—all these estates are great and honourable, and they may sit together in chamber or hall, two or three at a mess, if it so please them; but in your office you must try to please every man.

“The other estates, three or four to a mess, equal to a knight’s, are: unmitred abbot or prior, dean, archdeacon, Master of the Rolls, all the under judges and barons of the king’s exchequer, a provincial, a doctor of divinity or of both laws, a prothonotary, or the pope’s collector, if he be there, and the Mayor of the Staple.

“Other ranks you may set four to a mess, of persons equal to a squire in dignity, serjeants-at-law and ex-mayors of London, the masters of Chancery, all preachers, residencers, and parsons, apprentices of the law, merchants and franklins—these may sit properly at a squire’s table.

“Each estate shall sit at meat by itself, not seeing the others, at meal-time or in the field or in the town; and each must sit alone in the chamber or in the pavilion.

“The Bishop of Canterbury shall be served apart from the Archbishop of York, and the Metropolitan shall be served alone. The Bishop of York must not be served in the presence of the Primate of England.[158]

“Now, son, from divers causes, as equally from ignorance, a marshal is often puzzled how to rank lords of royal blood who are poor, and others not of royal blood who are rich, also ladies of royal blood wedded to knights, and poor ladies marrying those of royal blood. The lady of royal blood shall keep her rank, the lady of low blood and degree shall take her husband’s rank. The substance of livelihood[159] is not so digne[160] as royal blood, wherefore this prevails in chamber and hall, for some day blood royal might attain to the kingship.

“If the parents of a pope or cardinal be still alive, they must in no wise presume to be equal to their son, either sitting or standing. The estate of their son will not allow them either to sit or stand by him—nor should they desire it; wherefore they should have a separate chamber assigned to them.

“A marshal must look to the birth of each estate, and arrange officers such as chancellor, steward, chamberlain, treasurer, according to their degree.

“He must honour foreign visitors, and strangers to this land, even when they are resident here. A well-trained marshal should think beforehand how to place strangers at the table, for if they show gentle cheer and good manners, he thereby doth honour his lord and bring praise to himself.

“If the king send any messenger to your lord, if he be a knight, squire, yeoman of the crown, groom, page or child, receive him honourably as a baron, knight, squire, yeoman or groom,[161] and so forth, from the highest degree to the lowest, for a king’s groom may dine with a knight or a marshal.

“A commendable marshal must also understand the rank of all the worshipful officers of the commonalty of this land, of shires, cities and boroughs—such must be placed in due order, according to their rank.

“The estate of a knight of [good] blood and wealth is not the same as that of a simple and poor knight. Also, the Mayor of Queenborough[162] is not of like dignity with the Mayor of London—nothing like of degree; and they must on no account sit at the same table.