Aesch. No, for it is a work-day. What, do you think you have come here to play? This is not the place for playing, but for study.
Lus. Why, then, is a school called ludus?
True Leisure
Aesch. It is indeed called ludus, but it is ludus literarius, because here we must play with letters as elsewhere with the ball, hoop, and dice. And I have heard that in Greek it is called schola, as it were a place of leisure, because it is true ease and quiet of mind, when we spend our life in studies. But we will learn thoroughly what the teacher has bidden us, quite in soft murmur, so that we don’t become a hindrance to one another.
Lus. My uncle, who studied letters some time in Bologna, has taught me that you better fix anything you wish in the memory if you pronounce it aloud. This is also confirmed by the authority of one called Pliny—I don’t know who he was.
Aesch. If, then, any one should wish to learn his formulae, he should go off into the garden or into the churchyard. There he can shout aloud as if he would rouse the dead.
Cotta. You boys, do you call this learning thoroughly? I call it prattling and disputing! Up, now go all of you to the teacher, as he commanded.