Nobles
Mend. As have the other things! But the crowd of our nobility do not follow the precept (as to the value of writing), for they think it is a fine and becoming thing not to know how to form their letters. You would say their writing was the scratching of hens, and unless you were warned beforehand whose hand it was, you would never guess.
Manr. And for this reason you see how thick-headed men are, how foolish, and imbued with corrupt prejudices.
Mend. What are the common run of people, if the nobles are so skilless? or are the classes little different from each other?
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.