Plutarch's Moralia (Holland)/Essay 10
OF INTEMPERATE SPEECH OR GARRULITY
THE SUMMARY
[That which is commonly said, All extremities be naught, requireth otherwhiles an exposition, and namely, in that virtue which we call temperance, one of the kinds or branches whereof consisteth in the right use of the tongue, which is as much to say, as the skill and knowledge how to speak as it becometh: now the moderation of speech hath for the two extremes. Silence (a thing more often praiseworthy than reproachable) and Babble; against which this discourse is addressed. Considering, then, that silence is an assured reward unto wise men, and opposite directly unto much prattling, and comely and seemly speech is in the midst, we call not silence a vice, but say, that a man never findeth harm by holding his peace. But as touching garrulity or intemperate speech, the author sheweth in the very beginning of his treatise that it is a malady incurable and against nature; for it doth frustrate the talkative person of his greatest desire, to wit, for to have audience and credit given him; also that it maketh a man inconsiderate, importune, and malapert, ridiculous, mocked and hated, plunging him ordinzirily into danger, as many events have proved by experience. For to discover this matter the better, he saith consequently: That the nature of virtuous men and those who have noble bringing up, is directly opposite unto that of long-tongued persons; and joining the reasons by which a man ought not to bewray his secret, together with those evils and inconveniences which curiosity and much babble do bring, and confirming all by fine similitudes and notable examples: afterwards, taking in hand again his former speech and argument, he compareth a traitor and busy talker together, to the end that all men should so much the rather detest the vice of garrulity: then he proceedeth immediately to discover and apply the remedies of this mischief, willing us in the first place and generally to consider the calamities and miseries that much babbling causeth; as also the good and commodity which proceedeth of silence: which done he discourseth of those particular remedies, which import thus much in effect: That a man ought to frame and accustom himself, either to be silent, or else to speak last; to avoid all hastiness in making his answer; to say nothing, but that which is either needful or civil; to shun and forbear those discourses which please us most, and wherein we may be soon overseen and proceed too far; to find busy praters occupied apart from them; to provide them the company of men who are of authority and aged; In sum, to consider whether that which a man hath said, be convenient, meet, and profitable, and nevertheless to think always of this: That otherwhiles a man may repent of some words spoken, but never of keeping silence.]
A very hard and troublesome cure it is that philosophy hath undertaken, namely, to heal the disease of much prating; for that the medicine and remedy which she useth be words that must be received by hearing; and these great talkers will abide to hear no man, for that they have all the words themselves, and talk continually; so that the first mischief of those who cannot hold their tongue and keep silence is this; That they neither can nor will give ear to another; insomuch as it is a wilful kind of deafness in men, who seem thereby to control nature and complain of her, in that where she hath allowed them two ears, she hath given them but one tongue. If then Euripides said very well unto a foolish auditor of his:
Pour I wise words, and counsel what I can
With all my skill, into a sottish man,
Unneth shall I be able him to fill.
If hold and keep the same he never will,
a man may more truly and justly say unto (or rather of) a prating fellow:
Pour I wise words, and counsel what I can
With all my skill imto a sottish man,
Unneth I shall be able him to fill.
In case receive the same he never will.
And in truth, more properly it may be said: That one poureth good advertisements about such an one and beside him rather, than into him, so long as he either speaketh unto him that listeneth not, or giveth no ear unto them that speak: for if a prattling fellow chance to hear some short and little tale, such is the nature of this disease called garrulity, that his hearing is but a kind of taking his wind new, to babble it forth again immediately, much more than it was, or like a whirlpool which wArhatsoever it taketh once, the same it sendeth up again very often with the vantage.
Within the city Olympia there was a porch or gallery called Heptaphonos, for that from one voice by sundry reflections and reverberations it rendered seven echoes: but if some speech come to the ears of a babbler, and enter never so little in, by ind by it resoundeth again on every side.
And stirs the strings of secret heart within.
Which should lie still, and not be mov'd therein,
insomuch, as a man may well say: That the conducts and passages of their hearing reach not to the brain where their soul and mind is seated, but only to their tongue: by reason thereof, whereas in others the words that be heard do rest in their understanding, in prattlers they void away and run out presently, and afterwards they go up and down like empty vessels, void of sense and full of sound.
Well, as incurable as such seem to be, yet if it may be thought available to leave no experiment untried for to do such good, we may begin our cure, and say thus unto a busy prattler:
Peace, my good son, for taciturnity
Brings aye with it much good commodity.
But among the rest these be the two chief and principal, namely: to hear and to be heard; of which twain our importunate talkers can attain neither the one nor the other, so unhappy they are as to be frustrate of that which they so much desire. As for other passions and maladies of the soul, namely, avarice, ambition, love, and voluptuousness, they do all of them in some sort enjoy their desire; but the thing that troubleth and tormenteth these babbling fellows most is this: That seeking for audience so much as they do, and nothing more, they can never meet with it, but every man shunneth their company, and flieth away as fast as his legs will carry him; for whether men be set together in a knot, sadly talking in their round chairs, or walking in company, let them espy one of these prattlers coming toward them, away they go every one, that a man would say the retreat were sounded, so quickly they retire. And like as when in some assembly, if all be hushed on a sudden so as there is not a word, we use to say that Mercury is come among them; even so when a prating fool entereth into a place where friends are either set at the board to make merry, or otherwise met together in counsel, every man straightways is silent and holdeth his peace, as being unwilling to minister occasion unto him of talk; but if himself begin first to open his lips, up they rise all and are soon gone, as mariners suspecting and doubting by the whistling northern wind from the top of craggy rocks and promontories, some rough sea, and fearing to be stomach-sick, retire betimes into a bay for harbour: whereby it cometh to pass also, that neither at a supper can he meet with guests willing to eat and drink with him, nor yet companions to lodge with him, either in journey by land, or voyage by sea, unless it be by constraint. For so importunate he is always that one while he is ready to hang upon a man's cloak wheresoever he goes, another while he takes hold on the side of his beard, as if he knocked at the door with his hand to force him to speak; in which case well fare a good pair of legs, for they are worth much money at such a time; as Archilochus was wont to say, yea, and Aristotle also, that wise philosopher: for when upon a time he was much troubled with one of these busy praters, who haunted and wearied him out of measure with cavilling tales and many foolish and absurd discourses, iterating eftsoons these words; And is not this a wonderful thing, Aristotle? No, iwis (quoth he again), but this were a wonder rather, if a man that hath feet of his own should stand still and abide to hear you thus prate. Unto another also of the same stamp, who after much prittle-prattle and a long discourse, said thus unto him: I doubt I have been tedious unto you, philosopher, with my many words; No, in good sooth (quoth Aristotle unto him), for I gave no ear at all unto you. For if otherwhiles men cannot shake such praters off, but must of necessity let their tongues walk, this benefit he hath by the soul, that she retireth inwardly all the while lending the outward ears only for them to beat upon, and dash as it were all about with their jangling bibble-babble; for she in the meantime is otherwise occupied, and discourseth to herself of divers matters within; by which means such fellows can meet with no hearers that take heed what they say, or believe their words. For as it is generally held, that the natural seed of such as are lecherous and much given to the company of women is unfruitful and of no force to engender; even so the talk of these great praters is vain, barren, and altogether fruitless. And yet there is no part or member of our body that nature hath so surely defended (as it were) with a strong rampart as the tongue: for before it she hath set a palisado of sharp teeth, to the end that if peradventure it will not obey reason, which within holdeth it hard as with a strait bridle, but it will blatter out and not tarry within, we might bite it until it bleed again, and so restrain the intemperance thereof. For Euripides said not that houses unbolted.
But tongues and mouths unbridled if they be
Shall find in th'end mishap and misery.
And those in my conceit who say that housen without doors, and purses without strings, serve their masters in no stead, and yet in the meantime neither set hatch nor lock unto their mouths, but suffer them run out and overflow continually, like unto the mouth of the sea Pontus, these, I say, in mine opinion seem to make no other account of words than of the basest thing in the world; whereby they are never believed (say what they will), and yet this is the proper end and scope that all speech tendeth to, namely, to win credit with the hearers; and no man will ever believe these great talkers, no not when they speak the truth. For like as wheat, if it be enclosed within some dank or moist vessel, doth swell and yield more in measure, but for use is found to be worse; even so it is with the talk of a prattling person; well may he multiply and augment it with lying, but by that means it leeseth all the force of persuasion. Moreover, what modest, civil, and honest man is there who would not very carefully take heed of drunkenness? for anger (as some say) may well be ranged with rage and madness; and drunkenness doth lodge and dwell with her, or rather is madness itself,[1] only in circumstance of time it may be counted less, for that it continueth less while, but surely in regard of the cause it is greater, for that it is voluntary, and we run wilfully into it, and without any constraint. Now there is no one thing for which drunkenness is so much blamed and accused as for intemperate speech and talk without end: for as the poet saith:
Wine makes a man who is both wise and grave
To sing and chant, to laugh full wantonly,
It causeth him to dance, and eke to rave,
And many things to do undecently;
for the greatest and worst matter that ensueth thereupon is not singing, laughing, and dancing; there is another inconvenience in comparison whereof all these are nothing, and that is:
To blurt abroad, and those words to reveal,
Which better were within for to conceal.
This is (I say) the mischief most dangerous of all the rest: and it may be that the poet covertly would assoil that question which the philosophers have propounded and disputed upon; namely, what difference there might be between liberal drinking of wine and stark drunkenness? in attributing unto the former mirth and jocundness extraordinary, and to the latter much babbling and foolish prattle: for according to the common proverb, that which is seated in the heart and thought of a sober person, lieth aloft in the mouth and tongue of a drunkard. And therefore wisely answered the philosopher Bias unto one of these jangling and prating companions: for when he seemed to mock him for sitting still, and saying nothing at a feast, insomuch as he gave him the lob and fool for it: And how is it possible (quoth he) that a fool should hold his peace at the table? There was upon a time a citizen of Athens who feasted the ambassadors of the king of Persia, and for that he perceived that these great lords would take delight in the company of learned men and philosophers, upon a brave mind that he carried, invited they were all and met there together: now when all the rest began to discourse in general, and every man seemed to put in some vie for himself, and to hold and maintain one theme or other, Zeno, who sat among them, was only silent and spake not a word; whereupon the said ambassadors and strangers of Persia began to be merry with him and to drink unto him round, saying in the end: And what shall we report of you. Sir Zeno, unto the king our master? Marry (quoth he), no more but this, that there is an ancient man at Athens who can sit at the board and say nothing. Thus you see that silence argueth deep and profound wisdom; it impHeth sobriety, and is a mystical secret and divine virtue; whereas drunkenness is talkative, full of words, void of sense and reason; and indeed thereupon multiplieth so many words, and is ever jangling. And in truth the philosophers themselves when they define drunkenness say: That it is a kind of raving and speaking idly at the table upon drinking too much wine; whereby it is evident that they do not simply condemn drinking, so that a man keep himself within the bounds of modesty and silence; but it is excessive and foolish talk, that of drinking wine maketh drunkenness. Thus the drunkard raveth and talketh idly when he is cup-shotten at the board; but the prattler and man of many words doth it always and in every place, in the market and common hall, at the theatre, in the public galleries and walking-places, by day and by night. If he be a physician and visit his patient, sertes he is more grievous, and doth more hurt in his cure than the malady itself; if he be a passenger with others in a ship, all the company had rather be sea-sick than hear him prate; if he set to praise thee, thou wert better to be dispraised by another; and in a word, a man shall have more pleasure and delight to converse and commune with lewd persons so they be discreet in their speech, than with others that be busy talkers, though otherwise they be good honest men. True it is indeed that old Nestor, in a tragedy of Sophocles, speaking unto Ajax (who overshot himself in some hot and hasty words), for to appease and pacify him, saith thus after a mild and gracious manner:
I blame not you, Sir Ajax, for your speech,
Naught though it be, your deeds are nothing leech.
but surely we are not so well affected unto a vain-prating fellow; for his importunate and unseasonable words mar all his good works, and make them to lose their grace. Lysias upon a time, at the request of one who had a cause to plead unto at the bar, penned an oration for his purpose and gave it him. The party after he had read and read it over again, came unto Lysias heavy and ill-apaid, saying; The first time that I perused your oration methought it was excellently well written, and I wondered at it; but when I took it a second and third time in hand, it seemed very simply indited and carried no forcible and effectual style with it: Why (quoth Lysias, and smiled withal), know you not that you are to pronounce it but once before the judges? and yet see and mark withal the persuasive eloquence and sweet grace that is in the writing of Lysias, for I may be bold to say and affirm of him, that
The Muses with their broided violet hair,
Grac'd him with favour much and beauty fair.
And among those singular commendations that are given out of any poet, most true it is that Homer is he alone of all that ever were who overcame all satiety of the reader; seeming evermore new and fresh, flourishing always in the prime of lovely grace, and appearing young still and amiable to win favour; howbeit in speaking and professing thus much of himself:
It grieves me much for to rehearse again
A tale that once delivered hath been plain,
he sheweth sufficiently that he avoideth what he can, and feareth that tedious satiety which followeth hard at heels, and layeth wait (as it were) unto all long trains of speech; in which regard he leadeth the reader and hearer of his poems from one discourse and narration to another, and evermore with novelties doth so refresh and recreate him, that he thinketh he hath never enough; whereas our long-tongued chatterers do after a sort wound and weary the ears of their hearers by their tautologies and vain repetitions of the same thing as they that soil and slourry writing-tables when they be fair scoured and cleansed: and therefore let us set this first and foremost before their eyes, that like as they who force men to drink wine out of measure and undelayed with water, are the cause that the good blessing which was given us to rejoice our hearts and make us pleasant and merry, driveth some into sadness, and others into drunkenness and violence; even so, they that beyond all reason and to no purpose use their speech (which is a thing otherwise counted the most delightsome and amiable means of conference and society that men have together) cause it to be inhuman and unsociable, displeasing those whom they thought to please, making them to be mocked at their hands, of whom they looked to be well esteemed, and to have their evil will and displeasure, whose love and amity they made reckoning of. And even as he by good right may be esteemed uncourteous and altogether uncivil, who with the girdle and tissue of Venus, wherein are all sorts of kind and amiable allurements, should repel and drive from him as many as desire his company; so he that with his speech maketh others heavy and himself hateful, may well be held and reputed for a graceless man and of no bringing up in the world.
As for other passions and maladies of the mind, some are dangerous, others odious, and some again ridiculous and exposed to mockery; but garrulity is subject unto all these inconveniences at once. For such folk as are noted for their lavish tongue are a mere laughing-stock, and in every common and ordinary report of theirs, they minister occasion of laughter; hated they be for their relation of ill news, and in danger they are because they cannot conceal and keep close their own secrets: thereupon Anacharsis being invited one day and feasted by Solon, was reputed wise, for that being asleep he was found and been holding his right hand to his mouth, and his left upon his privities and natural parts: for good reason he had to think that the tongue required and needed the stronger bridle and bit to restrain it: and in very truth it were a hard matter to reckon so many persons undone and overthrown by their intemperate and loose life, as there have been cities and mighty states ruinated and subverted utterly by the revealing and opening of some secrets.
It fortuned that whiles Sylla did inleaguer before the city of Athens, and had not leisure to stay there long and continue the iege, by reason of other affairs and troubles pressed him sore, or of one side King Mithridates invaded and harried Asia, and m the other side the faction of Marius gathered strength; and having gotten head, prevailed much within Rome: certain old fellows being met in a barber's shop within the city of Athens, who were blabs of their tongues, clattered it out in their talk together that a certain quarter of the city named Heptacalchon was not sufficiently guarded, and therefore the town in danger the surprised by that part; which talk of theirs was overheard by certain spies, who advertised Sylla so much; whereupon immediately he brought all his forces to that side, and about midnight gave an hot assault, made entry, and went within a very little of forcing the city and being master of it all, for he filled the whole street called Ceramicum with slaughter and dead carcases, insomuch as the channels ran down with blood. Now was he cruelly bent against the Athenians more for their hard language which they gave him than for any offence or injury otherwise that they did unto him, for they had flouted and mocked Sylla, together with his wife Metella; and for that purpose they would get upon the walls and say; Sylla is a sycamore or mulberry, bestrewed all over with dusty meal; besides many other such foolish jibes and taunts; and so for the lightest thing in the world (as Plato saith), to wit, words which are but wind, they brought upon their heads a most heavy and grievous penalty. The garrulity and over-much talk of one man was the only hindrance that the city of Rome was not set free and delivered from the tyranny of Nero. For there was but one night between the time that Nero should have been murthered on the morrow, and all things were ready and prepared for the purpose: but he who had undertaken the execution of that feat, as he went toward the theatre, espied one of those persons who were condemned to die, bound, and pinioned at the prison door, and ready to be led and brought before Nero; who hearing him to make piteous moan and lamenting his miserable fortune, steps to him and rounding him softly in the ear: Pray to God, poor man (quoth he), that this one day may pass over thy head, and that thou die not to-day, for to-morrow thou shalt con me thanks. The poor prisoner, taking hold presently of this enigmatical and dark speech, and thinking (as I suppose) that one bird in hand is better than two in bush, and according to the common saying, that
A fool is he who leaving that
Which ready is and sure.
Doth follow after things that be
Unready and unsure,
made choice of saving his life by the surer way, rather than by the juster means; for he discovered unto Nero that which the man had whispered secretly unto him: whereupon presently the party was apprehended and carried away to the place of torture, where by racking, scorching, and scourging, he was urged, miserable wretch, to confess and speak out that perforce which of himself he had revealed without any constraint at all. Zeno the philosopher, fearing that when his body was put to dolorous and horrible torments, he should be forced even against his will to bewray and disclose some secret plot, bit off his tongue with his own teeth and spit it in the tyrant's face.
Notable is the example of Lesena, and the reward which she had for containing and ruling her tongue is singular. An harlot she was and very familiar with Harmodius and Aristogiton; by means of which inward acquaintance, privy she was and party as far forth as a woman might be to that conspiracy which they had complotted against the usurping tyrants of Athens, and the hopes that they builded upon (drunk she had out of that fair cup of love, and thereby vowed never to reveal the secrets of god Cupid). Now after that these two paramours and lovers of hers had failed of their enterprise and were put to death, she was called into question and put to torture, and therewith commanded to declare the rest of the complices in that conspiracy, who as yet were unknown and not brought to light: but so constant and resolute she was that she would not detect so much as one, but endured all pains and extremities whatsoever; whereby she shewed that those two young gentlemen had done nothing unfitting their persons and nobility in making choice to be enamoured of her. In regard of which rare secrecy of hers the Athenians caused a lioness to be made of brass without a tongue, and the same in memorial of her to be erected and set up at the very gate and entry of their citadel; giving posterity to understand by the generosity of that beast what in undaunted and invincible heart she had; and likewise of what taciturnity and trust in keeping secrets, by making it tongueless: and to say a truth, never any word spoken served to so good stead as many concealed and held in have profited, For why? A man may one time or other utter that which he once kept in; but being spoken, it cannot possibly be recalled and unsaid, for out it is gone already and spread abroad sundry ways. And hereupon it is (I suppose) that we have men to reach us for to speak, but we learn of the gods to hold our peace. For in sacrifices, religious mysteries, and ceremonies of divine service we receive by tradition a custom to keep silence. and even so, the poet Homer feigned Ulysses (whose eloquence otherwise was so sweet) to be of all men most silent and of fewest words; his son likewise, his wife and nurse, whom you may hear thus speaking:
As soon shall stock of sturdy oak it tell.
Or iron so strong as I will it reveal.
And Ulysses himself, sitting by Penelope before he would be known unto her who he was:
Griev'd in his mind, and pitied to behold
His wife by tears to shew what heart did feel,
But all the while his eyes he stiff did hold.
Which stirr'd no more than horn or sturdy steel;
SO full was his tongue of patience, and his lips of continence. For why? reason had all the parts of his body so obeisant and ready at command, that it gave order to the eyes not to shed tears; to the tongue not to utter a word; to the heart not to pant or tremble, nor so much as to sob or sigh:
Thus unto reason obeisant was his heart.
Persuaded all to take in better part;
When that she ought her tongue to hold.
And when to speak she might be bold.
For certainly those who have had noble and princely bringing up indeed, learn first to keep silence, and afterwards how to speak. And therefore King Antigonus the Great, when his son upon a time asked him. When they should dislodge and break up the camp: What, son (quoth he), art thou alone afraid, that when the time comes thou shalt not hear the trumpet sound the remove? Lo, how he would not trust him with a word of secrecy, unto whom he was to leave his kingdom in succession I teaching him thereby that he also another day should in such cases be wary and spare his speech. Old Metellus likewise, being asked such another secret as touching the army and setting forward of some expedition: If I wist (quoth he) that my shirt which is next my skin knew this my inward intent and secret purpose, I would put it off and fling it into the fire. King Eumenes, being advertised that Craterus was coming against him with his forces, kept it to himself, and would not acquaint any of his nearest friends therewith, but made semblance and gave it out (though untruly) that it was Neoptolemus who had the leading of that power; for him did his soldiers contemn and make no reckoning of, whereas the glory and renown of Craterus they had in admiration, and loved his virtue and valour: now when no man else but himself knew of Craterus his being in the field, they gave him battle, vanquished him, slew him before they were aware, neither took they knowledge of him before they found him dead on the ground.
See how by a stratagem of secrecy and silence the victory was achieved, only by concealing so hardy and terrible an enemy; insomuch as his very friends about him admired more his wisdom in keeping this secret from them, than complained of his diffidence and distrust of them. And say that a man should complain of thee in such a case, better it were yet to be challenged and blamed for distrusting, all the while thou remainest safe and obtain a victory by that means, than to be justly accused after an overthrow, for being so open and trusting so easily. Moreover, how darest thou confidently and boldly blame and reprove another for not keeping that secret which thou thyself hast revealed? for if it was behoveful and expedient that it should not be known, why hast thou told it to another? but in case when thou hast let fly a secret from thyself unto a man, thou wouldest have him to hold it in, and not blurt it out, surely it cannot be but thou hast better confidence in another than thyself: now if he be like thyself, who will pity thee if thou come by a mischief? is he better, and so by that means saveth thee harmless beyond all reason and ordinary course? then hast thou met with one more faithful to thee than thou art thyself but haply thou wilt say: He is my very friend; so hath he another friend (be sure) whom he will do as much for, and disclose the same secret unto, and that friend (no doubt) hath another. Thus one word will get more still, it will grow and multiply by a suit and sequence linked and hanging to an intemperate tongue: for like as unity, so long as she passeth not her bounds, but continueth and remaineth still in herself, is one and no more, in which respect she is called in Greek, monas, that is to say, alone; whereas the number of twain is the beginning of a diversity (as it were) and difference, and therefore indefinite; for straightways is unity passed forth of itself by doubling, and so turneth to a plurality; even so a word or speech all the while it abideth enclosed in him who first knew it, is truly and properly called a secret, but after it is once gotten forth and set a-going, so that it is come unto another, it beginneth to take the name of a common bruit and rumour: for as the poet very well saith; Words have wings. A bird, if she be let fly once out of our hands, it is much ado to catch again, and even so, when a word hath passed out of a man's mouth, hardly or unneth may we withhold or recover; for it flieth amain, it flappeth her light wings, fetching many a round compass, and spreadeth every way from one quarter to another: well may mariners stay a ship with cables and anchors, when the violence of the wind is ready to drive and carry her an end, or at leastwise they may moderate her swift and flight course; but if a word be issued out of the mouth, as out of her haven, and have gotten sea-room, there is no bay nor harbour to ride in, there is no casting of anchor will serve the turn, away she goes with a mighty noise and hurry, until in the end she runs upon some rock and is split, or else into a great and deep gulf, to the present danger of him who set her forth:
For in small time, and with a little spark
Of fire, a man may burn the forest tall
Of Ida mount; ev'n so (who list to mark)
All town will hear, a word to one let fall.
The senate of Rome upon a time sat in sad and serious counsel many days together, about a matter of great secrecy: now the thing being so much the more suspected and hearkened after, as it was less apparent and known abroad, a certain Roman dame, otherwise a good, sober and wise matron (howbeit a woman), importuned her husband and instantly besought him of all loves to tell her what this secret matter might be upon which they did sit so close in consultation? protesting with many an oath and execrable curse to keep silence and not to utter it to any creature in the world; you must think also, that she had tears at command, lamenting and complaining withal what an unhappy woman she was, in case her husband would not trust her so much as with a word: the Roman senator her husband minding to try and reprove her folly: Thou hast overcome me, sweetheart (quoth he), and through thine importunity thou shalt hear of a strange and terrible occurrent that troubleth us all. So it is, that we are advertised by our priests that there hath been a lark of late seen flying in the air, with a golden cop or crest on her head in manner of an helmet, and withal bearing a javelin: hereupon we do confer and consult with our soothsayers and diviners, desirous to be certified out of their learning, whether this prodigious token portend good or hurt to the commonweal; but keep it to thyself (as thou lovest me), and tell it nobody. When he had thus said, he went forth toward the common hall and market-place: his wife incontinently had no sooner spied one of her waiting-maidens coming into the room, but she drew her apart, begun to beat and knock her own breast, to rend and tear the hair off her head, and therewith: Ah, woe's me (quoth she) for my poor husband, my sweet native country; alas and welladay, what shall we do, and what will become of us all? as if she taught her maid and were desirous that she should say thus unto her again: Why, what is the matter, mistress? Now when the maiden thereupon asked her, What news? she set tale an end and told all, marry, she forgat not the common and ordinary burden or clause, that all blabs of their tongue use to come in with: But in any case (quoth she) say nothing, but keep it to thyself. Scarce was she gone out of her mistress's sight, but seeing one of her fellows whom she found most at leisure and going little or nothing, to her she imparted all. That wench again made no more ado, but to her lover she goes, who haply then was come to visit her, and telleth him as much. By this means the tale was bruited abroad, and passed roundly from one to another; insomuch as the rumour thereof was run into the market-place, and there went current before the first author and deviser thereof himself was gotten thither. For there meets with him one of his familiars and friends: How now (quoth he), are you come but now directly from your house to the market-place? No (quoth he again), I am but newly come: Why then belike (saith the other) you have heard no news? News (quoth he), what news should I hear? and what tidings can you tell me off? Why, man (answered he again), there hath been of late a lark seen flying with a golden cop or crest on her head, and carrying beside a javelin; and the consuls with other magistrates are ready to call a senate house for to sit upon this strange occurrent. With that the senator beforesaid, turning aside and smiling, thus said to himself: Well done, wife, I con thee thank for thy quickness and celerity, thou hast quit thyself well indeed, that the word which erewhile I uttered unto thee is gotten before me into the market-place. Well, the first thing that he did was this: To the magistrates he went straightways, signified unto them the occasion of this speech, and freed them from all fear and trouble: but when he was come home to his own house he fell in hand to chastise his wife: How now, dame (quoth he), how is this come to pass? you have undone me for ever; for it is found and known for a truth, that this secret and matter of counsel which I imparted to you, is divulged and published abroad, and that out of my house: and thus your unbridled tongue is the cause that I must abandon and fly my country, and forthwith depart into exile. Now when at the first she would have denied the thing stoutly, and alleged for her excuse and defence, saying: Are not there three hundred senators besides yourself who heard it as well as you? No marvel then if it be known abroad. What, tell you me of three hundred (quoth he). Upon your importunate instance, I devised it of mine own head, in mirth, to try your silence, and whether you could keep counsel. Certes, this senator was a wise man and went safely and warily to work, who to make proof of his wife, whom he took to be no sounder nor surer than a cracked and rotten vessel, would not pour into it either wine or oil, but water only, to see if it would leak and run out.
But Fulvius, one of the favourites and minions of Augustus the emperor, when he was now well steeped in years, having heard him toward his latter days lamenting and bewailing the desolate estate of his house, in that he had no children of his own body begotten, and that of his three nephews or sisters' children two were dead, and Posthumius (who only remained alive), upon an imputation charged upon him, confined and living in banishment, whereupon he was enforced to bring in his wife's son, and declare him heir apparent to succeed him in the empire: notwithstanding upon a tender compassion he was otherwhiles in deliberation with himself, and minded to recall his foresaid sister's son from exile and the place whereunto he was confined. Fulvius (I say), being privy to these moans and designs of his, went home and told his wife all that he had heard. She could not hold, but goes to the Empress Livia, wife of Augustus, and reported what her husband Fulvius had told her. Whereupon Livia, taking great indignation, sharply did contest and expostulate with Caesar in these tenns: That seeing it is so (quoth she) that you had so long before projected and determined such a thing as to call home again your nephew aforesaid; why sent you not for him at the first, but exposed me to hatred, enmity and war with him, who another day should wear the diadem and be emperor after your decease? Well, the next morning betimes, when Fulvius came, as his manner was, to salute Caesar and give him good morrow, after he had said unto him χαίρε, Καίσαρ, that is, God save you, Caesar; he resaluted him no otherwise but this, νγίαινε, Φούλβιε, that is, God make you wise, Fulvius. Fulvius soon found him and conceived presently what he meant thereby; whereupon he retired home to his house with all speed, and called for his wife; unto whom: Caesar (quoth he) is come to the knowledge that I have not kept his counsel nor concealed his secrets; and therefore I am resolved to make myself away with mine own hands. And well worthy (quoth she), for justly you have deserved death, who having lived so long with me, knew not the incontinence of my tongue all this while, nor would take heed and beware of it; but yet suffer me first to die upon your sword; and with that, catching hold thereof, killed herself before her husband. And therefore Philippides, the comedian, did very wisely in his answer to King Lysimachus, who by way of all courtesy making much of him, and minding to do him honour, demanded of him thus: What wouldest thou have me to impart unto thee of all other treasure and riches that I have? What it shall please your majesty (quoth he), my gracious lord, so it be none of your secrets.
Moreover, there is adjoined ordinarily unto garrulity another vice no less than it; namely, busy intermeddling and curiosity, for men desire to hear and know much news, because they may report and blaze the same abroad, and especially if they be secrets. Thus go they up and down listening, inquiring, and searching if they can find and discover some close and hidden speeches, adding as it were some old surcharge of odious matters to their toys and fooleries; which maketh them afterwards to be like unto little boys, who neither can hold ice in their hands, nor yet will let it go; or to say more truly, they clasp and contain in their bosoms secret speeches, resembling serpents, which they are not able to hold and keep long, but are eaten and gnawed by them. It is said that certain fishes called the sea-needles, yea and the vipers, do cleave and burst when they bring forth their young; and even so, secrets when they be let fall out of their mouths, who cannot contain them, undo and overthrow those that reveal them.
King Seleucus (him, I mean, who was surnamed Callinicus, that is, the victorious conqueror) in one battle against the Galatians was defeated, he and his whole power; whereupon he took from his head the diadem or royal band that he wear, and rode away on the spur on horseback with three or four in his company, wandering through desarts and byways unknown so long, until both horse and man were done and ready to faint for weariness: at length he came unto a country keams or peasant's cottage; and finding (by good fortune) the good man of the house within, asked for bread and water; which the said peasant or cottier gave unto him; and not that only, but look, what the field would afford else besides he imparted unto him and his company with a willing heart and in great plenty, making them the best cheer that he could devise: in the end he knew the king's face, whereupon he took such joy, in that his hap was to entertain the king in his necessity, that he could not contain himself, nor second the king in dissembling his knowledge, who desired nothing more than to be unknown; when he had therefore brought the king onward on his way, and was to take his leave of him: Adieu (quoth he). King Seleucus: with that the king reached forth his hand, and drew him toward him, as if he would have kissed him, and withal beckoned to one of his followers, and gave him a secret token to take his sword and make the man shorter by the head.
Thus whiles he spake (I wot not what) his head
Off goes, and lies in dust when he was dead;
whereas, if he could have held his tongue a little while longer, and mastered himself, when the king afterwards had better fortune and recovered his greatness and puissance, he should in my conceit have gotten more thanks at his hands, and been better rewarded for keeping silence than for all the courtesy and hospitality that he shewed. And yet this fellow had in some sort a colourable excuse for this intemperate tongue of his, to wit, his own hopes and the goodwill that he bare unto the king: but the most part of these prattlers undo themselves without any cause or pretence at all of reason: like as it befell unto Denys the Tyrant's barber: for when (upon a time) there were some talking in his shop as touching his tyrannical government and estate, how assured it was, and as hard to be ruined or overthrown as it is to break the diamond: the said barber laughing thereat: I marvel (quoth he) that you should say so of Denys, who is so often under my hands, and at whose throat in a manner every day I hold my razor: these words were soon carried to the tyrant Denys, who fair crucified this barber and hanged him for his foolish words. And to say a truth, all the sort of these barbers be commonly busy fellows with their tongue; and no marvel, for lightly the greatest praters and idlest persons in a country frequent the barber's shop, and sit in his chair, where they keep such chat, that it cannot be but by hearing them prate so customably, his tongue also must walk with them. And therefore King Archelaus answered very pleasantly unto a barber of his, that was a man of no few words, who when he had cast his linen cloth about his shoulders, said unto him: Sir, may it please your highness to tell me how I shall cut or shave you? Marry (quoth he), holding thy tongue and saying not a word. A barber it was who first reported in the city of Athens the news of that great discomfiture and overthrow which the Athenians received in Sicily; for keeping his shop (as he did) in that end of the suburbs called Pyraeum, he had no sooner heard the said unlucky news of a certain slave who fled from thence out of the field when it was lost, but leaving shop and all at six and seven, ran directly into the city, and never rested to bring the said tidings, and whiles they were fresh and fire-new,
For fear some else might all the honour win,
And he too late, or second, should come in.
Now upon the broaching of these unwelcome tidings, a man may well think (and not without good cause) that there was a great stir within the city; insomuch, as the people assembled together into the market-place or common hall, and search was made for the author of this rumour: hereupon the said barber was haled and brought before the body of the people, and examined; who knew not so much as the name of the party of whom he heard this news; But well assured I am (quoth he) that one said so, marry, who it was or what his name might be I cannot tell. Thus it was taken for an headless tale, and the whole theatre or assembly was so moved to anger, that they cried out with one voice; Away with the villain, have the varlet to the rack, set the knave upon the wheel, he it is only that hath made all on his own fingers' ends, this hath he and none but he levised; for who else hath heard it, or who besides him hath believed it? Well, the wheel was brought, and upon it was the barber stretched: meanwhile, and even as the poor wretch was hoisted thereupon, behold there arrived and came to the city those who brought certain news indeed of the said defeature, even they who made a shift to escape out of that infortunate field: then brake up the assembly, and every man departed and retired home to his own house, for to bewail his own private loss and calamity, leaving the silly barber lying along bound to the wheel, and racked out to the length, and there remained he until it was very late in the evening, at what time he was let loose; and no sooner was he at liberty but he must needs inquire news of the executioner, and namely; what they heard abroad of the general himself, Nicias, and in what sort he was slain? So inexpugnable and incorrigible a vice is this, gotten by custom of much talk, that a man cannot leave it, though he were going to the gallows, nor keep in those tidings which no man is willing to hear: for certes, like as they who have drunk bitter potions or unsavoury medicines, cannot away with the very cups wherein they were; even so, they that bring evil and heavy tidings, are ordinarily hated and detested of those unto whom they report the same. And therefore Sophocles the poet hath very finely distinguished upon this point in these verses:
Messenger. Is it your heart, or else your ear,
That this offends, which you do hear?
Creon. And why dost thou search my disease.
To know what grief doth me displease?
Messenger. His deeds (I see) offend your heart.
But my words cause your ears to smart.
Well then, those who tell us any woeful news be as odious as they who work our woe; and yet for all that, there is no restraint and bridling of an untemperate tongue that is given to talk and overreach. It fortuned one day at Lacedaemon, that the temple of Juno, called there Chalciaecos, was robbed, and within it was found a certain empty flagon or stone bottle for wine: great running there was and concourse of the people thither, and men could not tell what to make of that flagon: at last one of them that stood by; My masters (quoth he), if you will give me leave, I shall tell you what my conceit is of that flagon, for my mind gives me (saith he) that these church-robbers who projected to execute so perilous an enterprise, had first drunk the juice of hemlock before they entered into the action, and afterwards brought wine with them in this bottle, to the end that if they were not surprised nor taken in the manner, they might save their lives by drinking each of them a good draught of mere wine; the nature and virtue whereof (as you know well enough) is to quench as it were and dissolve the vigour and strength of that poison, and so go their ways safe enough, but if it chance that they were taken in the deed doing, then they might by means of that hemlock which they had drunk die an easy death, and without any great pain and torment, before that they were put to torture by the magistrate. He had no sooner delivered this speech, but the whole company who heard his words, thought verily that such a contrived device and so deep a reach as this never came from one that suspected such a matter, but rather knew that it was so indeed; whereupon they flocked round about, and hemmed him in, and on every side each one had a saying unto him: And what art thou? quoth one. From whence art thou? saith another. Here comes one and asketh, who knew him? there sets upon him another, saying: And how comest thou by the light of all this that thou hast delivered? to be short, they handled the matter so well that they forced him to bewray himself in the end, and to confess that he was one of them that committed the sacrilege. Were not they also who murdered the poet Ibycus discovered and taken after the same manner? It happened that the said murderers were set at a theatre to behold the plays and pastimes which were exhibited; and seeing a flight of cranes over their heads, they whispered one to another: Lo, these be they that will revenge the death of Ibycus. Now had not Ibycus been a long time before seen, and much search was made after him, because he was out of the way and missed; whereupon they that sate next unto these men overhearing those words of theirs, and well noting the speech, went directly to the magistrates and justices to give intelligence and information of their words. Then were they attached and examined; and thus being convicted, suffered punishment in the end, not by the means of those cranes that they talked of, but surely by their own blab-tongues; as if some hellish fury had forced them to disclose that murder which they had committed. For like as in our bodies the members diseased and in pain draw humours continually unto them, and all the corruption of the parts near unto them flow thither; even so, the tongue of a babbling fellow, being never without an inflammation and a feverous pulse, draweth always and gathereth to it one secret and hidden thing or other. In which regard it ought to be well sensed with a rampart, and the bulwark of reason should evermore be set against it, which like unto a bar may stay and stop that over flowing and inconstant lubricity which it hath; that we be not more undiscreet and fooHsh beasts than geese are, who when they be to take a flight into CiUcia over the mountain Taurus, which is full of eagles, take up every one in their bill a good big stone, which serveth them instead of a lock or bridle to restrain their gaggling; by which device they may pass all night long without any noise, and not be heard at all or descried by the said eagles.
Now if one should demand and ask of me, what person of all others is most mischievous and dangerous? I believe very well there is no man would name any other but a traitor. And yet Euthycrates (as saith Demosthenes) by his treason covored his own house with a roof made of timber that he had out of Macedonia. Philocrates also lived richly and gallant of that great mass of gold and silver which he had of King Philip for betraying his country, and therewith furnished himself with brave harlots, gallant concubines and dainty fishes. Euphorbius also, and Philagrus, who betrayed Eretria, were endowed by the king with fair lands and possessions: but a prattler is a traitor voluntary and for nothing, he demandeth no hire at all, neither looketh he to be solicited, but offereth himself and his service; nor betrayeth unto the enemies either horses or walls, but revealeth hidden secrets, and discloseth speeches which are to be concealed, whether it be in judicial matters of law or in seditious discords, or in managing of state affairs, it makes no matter, and no man conneth him thanks; nay, he will think himself beholden to others, if they will vouchsafe to give him audience. And therefore, that which is commonly said to a prodigal person, who foolishly mis-spendeth and vainly wasteth his substance he cares not how, to gratify every man: Thou art not liberal; this is no courtesy; a vice it is rather that thou are disposed unto, thus to take pleasure in nothing, but giving and giving still. The same rebuke and reprehension serveth very fitly for a babbler: Thou art no friend nor well-wilier of mine, thus to come and discover these things unto me; this is thy fault, and a disease which thou art sick of, that lovest to be clattering and hast no mind but of chatting.
Now would I have the reader to think that I write not all this, so much to accuse and blame the vice and malady of garrulity, as to cure and heal the same. For by judgment and exercise we surmount and overcome the vices and passions of the mind; but judgment, that is to say, knowledge, must go before: for no man accustometh himself to void, and (as it were), to weed them out of the soul, unless he hate and detest them first. Now then, and never before, begin we to take an hatred to vices, when by the light of reason we consider and weigh the shame and loss that cometh unto us by them: as for example, we know and see that these great praters, whiles they desire to win love, gain hatred; thinking to do a pleasure, they displease; looking to be well esteemed, are mocked and derided; they lay for lucre, and get nothing; they hurt their friends, aid their enemies, and undo themselves.
So then, let this be the first receipt and medicine for to cure this malady; even the consideration and reckoning up of the shameful infamies and painful inconveniences that proceed and ensue thereof. The second remedy is, to take a survey of the contrary; that is to say, to hear always, to remember and have ready at hand the praises and commendations of silence, the majesty (I say), the mystical gravity and holiness of taciturnity, to represent always unto our mind and understanding, how much more admired, how much more loved, and how far wiser they are reputed, who speak roundly at once, and in few words, their mind pithily; who in a short and compendious speech comprehend more good matter and substance a great deal, than these great talkers, whose tongues are unbridled and run at random. Those (I say) be they whom Plato so highly esteemeth, comparing them to skilful and well-practised archers and darters, who have the feat of shooting arrows and lancing darts; for they know how and when to speak graciously and bitterly, soundly, pithily, and compactly. And verily, wise Lycurgus framed and exercised his citizens immediately from their childhood by keeping them down at the first with silence to this short and sententious kind Of speech, whereby they spake always compendiously, and knit up much in a little. For like as they of Biskay or Celtiberia do make their steel of iron, by entering it and letting it lie first within the ground, and then by purging and refining it from the gross, terrene, and earthly substance that it hath; even so the Laconians' speech hath no outward bark (as a man would say) or crust upon it, but when all the superfluity thereof is taken away, it is steeled (as it were) and tempered, yea, and hath an edge upon it, fit for to work withal and to pierce: and verily that apophthegmatical and powerful speech of theirs, that grace which they had to answer sententiously and with such gravity, together with a quick and ready gift to meet at every turn with all objections, they attained unto by nothing else but by their much silence.
Wherefore, it were very expedient to set ever before the eyes of these great praters those short and witty speeches, that they may see what grace and gravity both they have: as for example; The Lacedaemonians unto Philip, greeting: Dionysius in Corinth. Also another time, when Philip had written unto them to this effect: If I enter once into the confines of Laconia, I will destroy you utterly that you shall never rise again; they returned this answer again in writing: Αίκα; that is, If. Likewise when King Demetrius in great displeasure and indignation cried out aloud in these words: The Lacedcemonians have sent unto me an ambassador alone, and who hath no fellow; meaning that there came but one: the said ambassador, nothing daunted at his words, answered readily: One for one. Certes, they that used to speak short and sententiously, were highly esteemed long ago with our ancients and forefathers. And hereupon it was that the Amphictyons, that is to say, the deputies or states for the general counsel of all Greece, gave order that there should be written over the door of the Temple of Apollo Pythius, not the Odyssey or Ilias of Homer, nor yet the canticles or pæans of Pindarus; but these brief sentences: Γνώθι σαυτόν, that is, Know thyself; Μηδέν άγαν, that is, Too much of nothing; also Έγγύα, πάρα, δάτα, that is. Be surety and make account to pay: so highly esteemed they a plain, simple, and round manner of speaking, which comprised in few words much matter, and a sentence massy and sound: and no marvel, for Apollo himself loveth brevity, and is in his oracles very succinct and pithy; wherefore else is he surnamed Loxias? but because he chooseth rather to avoid plurality than obscurity of words. They also who without word uttered at all, signify the conceptions of their mind by certain symbolical devices, and after that manner deliver good lessons unto us; are they not sundry ways commended and admired exceedingly? Thus Heraclitus in times past, being requested by his neighbours and fellow-citizens to make a sententious speech unto them, and deliver his opinion as touching civil unity and concord, mounted up into the pulpit, and taking a cup of cold water in his hand, bespiced it (as it were) with some meal, and with a sprig or two of the herb pennyroyal, shook all together: which done, he drank it off, and so came down and went his way: giving them by this demonstration thus much to understand; that if men would take up with a little and be content with things at hand, without desiring costly superfluities, it were the next way to keep and preserve cities in peace and concord. Scylurus, a king of the Scythians, left behind him fourscore sons; and when the hour of his death drew near, he called for a bundle of darts or a sheaf of arrows to be brought unto him, which he put into his children's hands one after another, and willed each one to break and burst the same in pieces, bound as it was entire and whole together: which when they had assayed to do, and putting all their strength unto it, could not, but gave over, himself took out of the sheaf or knitch the darts aforesaid one by one, and knapt them in twain single as they were with facility, declaring by this device, that so long as they held together their union and agreement would be strong and invincible; but their discord and disunion would make them feeble, and be an occasion that they should not long continue. He, then, that continually shall have these and such-like precedents in his mouth, and ordinarily repeat and remember the same, will peradventure take no great pleasure and delight in idle and superfluous words. For mine own part, surely I am abashed mightily at the example of that domestical servant at Rome, when I consider with myself what a great matter it is to be well advised before a man speaketh, and constantly to hold and maintain the resolution of any purpose. Publius Piso, the great orator and rhetorician, because he would provide that his people and servitors about him should not trouble his head with much prattle, gave order and commandment unto them, that they should make answer unto his demands only, and no more: now being minded one day to entertain Clodius, the chief ruler of the city, at his house, he bade him to supper, and caused him to be sent for and called at the time accordingly: for a stately and royal feast he had provided, by all likelihood, and as any man would think, no less: now when supper time was come, the rest of the invited guests were present, Clodius only they stayed and looked for; meanwhile, Piso had sent out oftentimes unto him one of his servitors who was wont ordinarily to bid his guests for to see whether he were coming, or would come to supper or no? but when it grew late in the evening, so that there was no hope now that he would be there: Now, sirrah (quoth Piso to his man aforesaid), didst thou not invite and bid him? Yes iwis, sir: Why then comes he not? said the master again: Forsooth (quoth he), because he denied to come: And why toldest thou not me this immediately? Because, sir, you never asked me the question. Well, this was a Roman servitor; but an Athenian servant I trow, whiles he is digging and delving, will tell his master news, and namely, what be the articles and capitulations in the treaty and composition of peace. So powerful and forcible is use and custom in all things, whereof I purpose now to treat; for that there is no bit nor bridle that is able to repress, tame and keep in a talkative tongue, but it is custom that must do the deed and conquer this malady.
First and foremost, therefore, when in company there shall be any question propounded by them that are about thee, frame and use thyself to hold thy tongue and be silent, until thou see that every man else refuseth to speak and make answer: for according to Sophocles:
To counsel and to run a course in race
Have not both twain one end, to haste apace.
No more verily doth a voice and an answer shoot at the same mark that running aimeth at: for there, to wit, in a race, he winneth the prize that getteth to be foremost; but here, if another man have delivered a suflRcient answer, it will be well enough, by praising and approving his speech, to gain the opinion and reputation of a courteous person; if not, then will it not be thought impertinent, neither can envy or hatred come of it, in case a man do gently shew and open that wherein the other was ignorant, and so after a mild and civil manner supply the defect of the former answer: but above all, this regard would be had: That when a question or demand is addressed and directed unto another, we take it not upon ourselves; and so anticipate and prevent his answer; and peradventure, neither in this nor in anything else, is it decent and commendable to offer and put forth ourselves too forward before we be required; and in this case, when another man is asked a question, our own intrusion, with the putting by of him, is not seemly; for we may be thought (in so doing) both to injure and discredit the party demanded, as if he were not able to perform that which was put upon him, and also to reproach the demandant, as though he had little skill and discretion, to ask a thing of him who could not give the same: and that which more is, such malapert boldness and heady hastiness in rash answering, importeth (most of all) exceeding arrogancy and presumption; for it seemeth, that he who taketh the answer out of his mouth of whom the question is demanded, would say thus much in effect: What need have we of him? what can he say unto it? what skill or knowledge hath he? when I am in place, no man ought to ask any other of these matters, but myself only. And yet many times we propose questions unto some, not of any great desire that we have to hear their answers, but only because we would find talk, and minister occasion of discourse, seeking thereby to draw from them some words that may yield matter of mirth and pleasant conference: after which sort, Socrates used to provoke Theaetetus and Charmides.
To prevent therefore the answer of another, to turn away men's ears, to divert their eyes and draw their cogitations from him to ourselves, is as much as if we should run before and make haste to kiss one first, who was minded to be kissed of another, or to enforce him to look upon us, whose eyes were set and fixed upon another; considering, that although the party unto whom the demand was made, be either not able nor willing to make answer, it were befitting for a man, after some little pause made, to present himself in all modesty and reverence, and then to frame and accommodate his speech as near unto that as may be, which he thinketh will content the mind of him that made the demand, and so answer (as it were) in the name of the other: for if they who are demanded a question make no good and sufficient answer, great reason they have to be pardoned and held excused; but he who intrudeth himself, and taking the words out of another's mouth, is ready to speak before he be spoken unto, by good right is odious, although he answer otherwise sufficiently; but if he fail, and make no good answer, certes he maketh himself ridiculous, and a very laughing-stock to the whole company.
The second point of exercise and meditation is in a man's own particular answers, wherein he ought especially to be careful and take heed who is given to over-much talk, to the end that they who would provoke him to speak, and all to make themselves merry and to laugh at him, may well know that he answereth not he knows not what inconsiderately, but with good advice and seriously to the point: for such there be in the world, who for no need at all, but only for to pass time in mirth, devise certain questions for the nonce, and in that manner propound them to such persons for no other end but to provoke them to prattle; and therefore they ought to have a good eye and regard before them, not to leap out and run all on a sudden hastily to their answer, as if they were well pleased and beholden unto them for to have such an occasion of speech; but with mature deliberation to consider the nature and behaviour of him that putteth out the question, together with the necessity thereof, and the profit that may ensue thereby; and if it appear, indeed, that the party be in good earnest, and desirous to learn and be instructed, then he must accustom himself to repress his tongue and take some pause, allowing a competent space of time between the demand and the answer; during which silence, both the demander may have while to bethink himself and add somewhat thereto, if he list, and also the demande time to think of an answer, and not let his tongue run before his wit, and so huddle up a confused answer before the question be fully propounded: for oftentimes it falleth out that for very haste they take no heed of those things which were demanded, but answer kim-kam, and one thing for another. True it is (I must needs say) that Pythia, the priestess of Apollo's temple, is wont to give answer by oracle at the same instant that the question is demanded, yea, and oftentimes before it be asked; for why? the god whom she serveth
Doth understand the dumb, who cannot speak.
And knows one's mind, before the tongue it break;
but among men, he that would wisely and to the purpose answer, ought to stay until he conceive the thought, and fully understand the intent of him that proposeth a question, lest that befall unto him which is said in the common proverb:
About an hook I question made,
And they gave answer of a spade;
and otherwise also, if that inconvenience were not, yet are we to bridle this lavish and hasty tongue of ours, and restrain the inordinate and hungry appetite which we have to be talking; lest it be thought that we had a flux (as it were) of humours gathered a long time about the tongue, and grown into an impostume, which we are very well content should be let out, and have issue made by a question tendered unto us, and so by that means be discharged thereof. Socrates was wont in this manner to restrain and repress his thirst, after that he had enchafed his body and set himself into an heat, either by wrestling, or running, or such-like exercises; he would not permit himself to drink before he had poured out the first bucket of water that he had drawn out of the pit or well, acquainting this his sensual appetite to attend the fit and convenient time that reason appointed.
Moreover, this would be noted, that there be three kinds of answers unto interrogations; the first necessary, the second civil, and the third needless and superfluous: as, for example: If one should ask whether Socrates be within or no; he that is unwilling or not ready and forward with his tongue, would make answer and say: He is not within, but if he be disposed to laconise a little, and speak more brief, he would leave out the word (within) and say: He is not; or yet more short than so, pronouncing only the negative adverb, and saying no more but No. Thus the Lacedaemonians dealt once by Philip; for when he had dispatched his letters unto them to this effect; To know whether they would receive him into their city or no: they wrote back again, in fair great capital letters, within a sheet of paper, no more but OY, that is to say. No: and so sent it unto him: but he that would make answer to the former question of Socrates a little more civilly and courteously, would say thus: He is not within, sir, for he is gone to the bank or exchange; and to give yet a somewhat better measure, he might perhaps add, moreover, and say; He looketh there for certain strangers and friends of his. But a vain prating fellow, and one that loves many words, especially if his hap hath been to read the book of Antimachus the Colophonian, will make answer to the demand aforesaid in this wise: He is not within, sir, gone he is to the burse or exchange, for there he expecteth certain strangers out of Ionia, of whom and in whose behalf Alcibiades wrote unto him, who now maketh his abode within the city of Miletus, sojoumeth with Tissaphernes, one of the lieutenants-general of the great King of Persia; who before time was in league with the Lacedaemonians, stood their friend, and sent them aid; but not for the love of Alcibiades, he is turned from them and is sided with the Athenians: for Alcibiades, being desirous to return into his own country, hath prevailed so much that he hath altered Tissaphernes his mind, and drawn him away from our part: and thus shall you have him rehearse in good earnest the whole eighth book (in manner) of Thucydides his story, until he have overwhelmed a man with a multitude of narrations, and made him believe that in Miletus there is some great sedition; that it is ready to be lost, and Alcibiades to be banished a second time.
Herein then ought a man principally to set his foot and stay his overmuch language, so as the centre and circumference of the answer be that which he who maketh the demand desireth and hath need to know. Cameades, before he had any great name, disputed one day in the public schools and place appointed for exercise: unto whom the master or president of the place sent beforehand, and gave him warning to moderate his voice (for he spake naturally exceeding big and loud, so as the schools rung again therewith); Give me, then (quoth he), a gauge and measure for my voice; upon whom the said master replied thus not unproperly: Let him that disputeth with thee be the measure and rule to moderate thy voice by; even so a man may in this case say: The measure that he ought to keep who answereth, is the very will and mind of him that proposeth the question. Moreover, like as Socrates forbade those meats which drew men on to eat when they are not hungry, and likewise those drinks which caused them to drink who are not athirst, even so should a man who is given to much prattle be afraid of those discourses wherein he delighteth most, and which he is wont to use and take greatest pleasure in; and in case he perceive them to run willingly upon him for to withstand the same, and not give them entertainment. As, for example, martial men and warriors love to discourse and tell of battles; which is the reason that the poet Homer bringeth in Nestor[2] eftsoons recounting his own prowess and feats of arms: and ordinary it is with them who in judicial trials have had the upper hand of their adversaries, or who beyond the hope and opinion of every man have obtained grace and favour with kings and princes, to be subject unto this malady that evermore followeth them, namely to report and recount eftsoons the manner how they came in place; after what sort they were brought in; the order of their pleading; how they argued the case; how they convinced their accusers, and overthrew their adversaries; last of all, how they were praised and commended: for to say a truth, joy and mirth is much more talkative than that old Agrypnia which the poets do feign and devise in their comedies: for it rouseth and stirreth up, it reneweth and refresheth itself ever and anon, with many discourses and narrations; whereupon ready they are to fall into such speeches upon every light and colourable occasion: for not only is it true which the common proverb saith:
Look where a man doth feel his pain and grief.
His hand will soon be there to yield relief,
but also joy and contentment draweth unto it the voice, it leadeth the tongue always about with it, and is evermore willing to be remembered and related. Thus we see that amorous lovers pass the greater part of their time in rehearsing certain words which may renew the remembrance of their loves, inso much that if they cannot meet with one person or other to relate the same unto, they will devise and talk of them with such things as have neither sense nor life: like as we read of one who break forth into these words:
O dainty bed, most sweet and pleasant couch,
O blessed lamp, O happy candle light.
No less than God doth Bacchus you avouch.
Nay, God you are the mightiest in her sight.
And verily a busy prater is altogether (as one would say) a white line or strake in regard of all words, to wit, without discretion he speaketh indifferently of all matters; howbeit if he be affected more to some than to others, he ought to take heed thereof, and abstain from them; he is (I say) to withdraw and writhe himself from thence; for that by reason of the contentment which he may therein take, and the pleasure that he receiveth thereby, they may lead him wide and carry him every while very far out of the way: the same inclination to overshoot themselves in prating they find also when they discourse of those matters wherein they suppose themselves to have better experience, and a more excellent habit than others: such an one, I say, being a self-lover and ambitious withal:
Most part of all the day in this doth spend.
Himself to pass, and others to transcend.
As, for example, in histories if he hath read much; in artificial style and couching of his words, he that is a grammarian; in relation of strange reports and news, who hath been a great traveller and wandered through many foreign countries: hereof therefore great heed would be taken; for garrulity being therein fleshed and baited, willingly runneth to the old and usual haunt, like as every beast seeketh out the ordinary and accustomed pasture.
And in this point was the young prince Cyrus of a wonderful and excellent nature, who would never challenge his play-fellows and consorts in age unto any exercise wherein he knew himself to be superior and to surpass, but always to such feats wherein he was less practised than they; which he did as well because he would not grieve their hearts in winning the prize from them, as also for that he would profit thereby, and learn to do that wherein he was more raw and unready than they. But a talkative fellow contrariwise; if there be a matter proposed whereby he may hear and learn somewhat that he knew lot before, rejecteth and refuseth it; he cannot for his life hold lis tongue and keep silence a little while, to gain thereby some lire and reward, but casting and rolling his thought round about. he never rests until he light upon some old ragged rhapsodies and overworn discourses, which he hath patched and tacked together a thousand times. Such a one there was among us, who happened by chance to have perused two or three books of Ephorus; whereby he took himself to be so great a clerk and so well read, that he wearied every man's ears who heard him talk; there was no assembly nor feast unto which he came, but he would force the company to arise and depart with his unmeasurable prating of the battle of Leuctres, and the occurrents that ensued thereupon, insomuch as he got himself a by-name, and every man called him Epaminondas. But this is the least inconvenience of all others that followeth this infirmity of much babbling: and surely one good means it is to the cure thereof; To turn the same from other matters to such as these: for thereby shall their tongue be less troublesome and offensive when it passeth the bonds in the terms only of literature.
Over and besides, for the remedy of this their disease, they shall do well to inure and accustom themselves to write somewhat, and to dispute of questions apart. Thus did Antipater the Stoic, who as it may be thought, being not able nor willing to hold out in disputation hand to hand with Carneades, who with a violent stream (as it were) of his forcible wit and eloquence refuted the sect of the Stoics, answered the said Carneades by writing, and filled whole books with contradictory assertions and arguments against him; insomuch as thereupon he was surnamed Calamoboas, which is as much to say, as the lusty crier with his pen: and so by all likelihood this manner of fighting with a shadow and loud exclaiming in secret, and apart by themselves, training these stout praters every day by little and little from the frequency and multitude of people, may make them in the end more sociable and fitter for company. Thus curst curs, after they have spent and discharged their choler and anger upon the cudgels or stones which have been thrown at them, become thereby more gentle and tractable to men. But above all, it were very expedient and profitable for them to be always near unto personages for years elder, and in authority greater than themselves, and with those to converse; for the reverent regard and fear that they have in respect of their dignity and gravity, may induce and direct them in time and by custom to keep silence; and evermore among those exercises heretofore by us specified, this advisement would be mingled and interlaced; That when we are about to speak, and that words be ready to run out of our mouth, we say thus unto ourselves by way of reasoning: What manner of speech is this that is so urgent and presseth so hard to be gone? What ails my tongue, that it is so willing to be walking? What good may come by the utterance thereof? What harm may ensue by concealing it in and holding my peace? For we must not think that our words be like an heavy burden over-loading us, and whereof we should think ourselves well eased when we are discharged of them: for speech remaineth still as well when it is uttered as before: but men ought to speak either in the behalf of themselves when they stand in need of something, or to benefit others, or else to pleasure and recreate one another by pleasant devices and discourses (as it were), with salt to mitigate the painful travails in actions and worldly affairs, or rather to make the same more savoury whiles we are employed therein.
Now if a speech be neither profitable to him that delivereth it, nor necessary for him that heareth it, nor yet carry therewith any grace or pleasure; what need is there that it should be uttered? For surely, a man may as soon speak a word in vain, as do a thing to no purpose. But above and after all other good advertisements in this case, we ought always to have in readiness and remembrance this wise saying of Simonides: A man (quoth he) may repent many a time for words spoken, but never for a word kept in: this also we must think: That exercise is all in all, and a matter of that moment and efficacy, that it is able to master and conquer everything: considering that men will take great pains and be careful; yea, they will endure much sorrow for to be rid of an old cough; to chase away the troublesome yex or hicket. Besides, taciturnity hath not only this one fair property and good virtue, that (as Hippocrates saith) it never breedeth thirst; but also that it engendereth no pain, no grief nor displeasure, neither is any man bound to render an account thereof.