JESPER. Shame on Peer the deacon! He is worse than I thought. I see well enough that he has forgot nothing either of his Latin or Hebrew.
JERONIMUS. I believe that well enough, for he probably never knew much of either.
JESPER. Don't say that, Monsieur Jeronimus! He has a devilish clever tongue. It is really a joy to hear the man talk Latin.
JERONIMUS. That is more than I should have expected. But how does my son look?
JESPER. He looks confoundedly learned. You would hardly recognize him. He has another name, too.
JERONIMUS. Another name! What does he call himself?
JESPER. He calls himself Montanus, which is said to be the same as
Rasmus in Latin.
JERONIMUS. Oh, shame! that is wicked. I have known many who have changed their Christian names in that way, but they never have prospered. Some years ago I knew a person who was christened Peer, and afterwards, when he had become a man of consequence, wanted to be coined again, and called himself Peter. But that name cost him dear, for he broke his leg and died in great misery. Our Lord doesn't allow such a thing, Mr. Bailiff.
JESPER. I don't care what his name is, but I don't like it that he has such peculiar opinions in religion.
JERONIMUS. What kind of opinions has he, then?