but then they were like horses well managed; for they could tell passing well when to stop or turn; and at such times when they thought the case indeed required dissimulation, if then they used it, it came to pass that the former opinion spread abroad of their good faith and clearness of dealing made them almost invisible.
There be three degrees of this hiding and veiling of a man's self. The first, Closeness, Reservation, and Secrecy; when a man leaveth himself without observation, or without hold to be taken, what he is.[1] The second, Dissimulation, in the negative; when a man lets fall signs and arguments, that he is not that[2] he is. And the third, Simulation, in the affirmative; when a man industriously and expressly feigns and pretends to be that he is not.
For the first of these, Secrecy; it is indeed the virtue of a confessor. And assuredly the secret man heareth many confessions. For who will open himself to a blab or babbler? But if a man be thought secret, it inviteth discovery; as the more close air sucketh in the more open; and as in confession the revealing is not for worldly use, but for the ease of a man's heart, so secret men come to the knowledge of many things in that kind; while men rather dis-
- ↑ Before Milton set out on his Italian journey, he received a letter of advice from Sir Henry Wotton, then Provost of Eton. Wotton said that in Siena he had been "tabled in the house of one Alberto Scipioni, an old Roman courtier in dangerous times . . . . and at my departure toward Rome (which had been the centre of his experience) I had won his confidence enough to beg his advice how I might carry myself there without offence of others or of mine own conscience. 'Signor Arrigo mio,' says he, 'I pensieri stretti ed il viso sciolto' [honest thoughts and an open countenance] will go safely over the whole world.'"
- ↑ That. What.
