Manr. To be taught by you in that art which you profess, if only you have time and are willing.
Teacher. Certainly, you ought to be boys highly educated, for so you speak and desire with modest mouths. Now, so much the more since a blush has spread over your whole face. Have confidence, my boys, for that is the colour of virtue. What are your names?
Manr. Manricus and Mendoza.
True Nobility
Teacher. The names themselves are evidence of noble education and generous minds. But first then, you will be truly noble if you cultivate your minds by those arts which are especially most worthy of your renowned families. How much wiser you are than that multitude of nobles who hope that they are going to be esteemed as better born in proportion as they are ignorant of the art of writing. But this is scarcely to be wondered at, since this conviction has taken hold of the stupid nobles that nothing is more mean or vile than to pursue knowledge in anything. And therefore it is to be seen that they sign their names to their letters, composed by their secretaries, in a manner that makes them impossible to be read; nor do you know from whom the letter is sent to you, if it is not first told you by the letter-carrier, or unless you know the seal.
Manr. Over this Mendoza and I have grieved already.
Teacher. But have you come here armed?
Manr. Not at all, good teacher, we should have been beaten by our teachers if we had dared to merely look at arms, at our age, let alone to touch them.
Teacher. Ah, ah! I don’t speak of the arms of blood-shedding, but of writing-weapons, which are necessary for our purpose. Have you a quill-sheath together with quills in it?
Mend. What is a quill-sheath? Is it the same as we call a writing-reed case?