Manr. Because the common people are not distinguished by their clothes and possessions, they are the more separated by their life and sound judgment in their affairs.
Mend. Do you mean that to vindicate ourselves from the charge of vulgar ignorance we must give ourselves up to the practice of writing?
Manr. I don’t know how it is inborn in me to plough out my letters so distortedly, so unequally and confusedly.
Mend. You have this tendency from your noble birth. Practise yourself—habit will change even what you think to be inborn in you.
II. The Writing-master
Manr. But where does he (the writing-master) live?
Mend. Don’t seek that from me, for I did not hear the man, nor see him, while I understood that you heard him. You would like everything to be brought to your mouth, chewed beforehand.
Manr. Now I remember he said he rented a house near the church of SS. Justus and Pastor.
Mend. So he is our neighbour. Let us go.
Manr. Eh, boy! where is the teacher?