"I like the peasants best;
they know where the shoe pinches, and are not so particular if
you sometimes blow a false note." "That is, you have no _point
d'honneur_," said the cornetist. "_Odi profanum vulgus et arceo_, as
the Latin has it." "Well, there must be some churches on the road,"
struck in the third; "we can stop at the Herr Pastors'." "No, I thank
you," said the cornetist; "they give little money, but long sermons on
the folly of philandering about the world when we might be acquiring
knowledge, and they wax specially eloquent when they sniff in me a
future member of their fraternity. No, no, _clericus clericum non
decimat_. But why be in such a hurry? The Herr Professors are still
at Carlsbad, and are sure not to be precise about the very day." "Nay,
_distinguendum est inter et inter_," replied the other; "_quod licet
Jovi, non licet bovi_!"
I now saw that they were students from Prague, and I conceived a
great respect for them, especially as they spoke Latin like their
mother-tongue. "Is the gentleman a student?" the cornetist asked me. I
replied modestly that I had always been very fond of study, but that I
had had no money. "That's of no consequence," said the cornetist; "we
have neither money nor rich patrons, but we get along by mother-wit.
_Aurora musis amica_, which means, being interpreted, 'Do not waste
too much time at breakfast.' But when the bells at noon echo from
tower to tower, and from mountain to mountain, and the scholars crowd
out of the old dark lecture-room, and swarm shouting through the
streets, we betake us to the Capuchin monastery, to the father who
presides in the refectory, where there is sure to be a table spread
for us, or if not actually spread, there will be at least a dish
apiece, and we fall to, and perfect ourselves at the same time in our
Latin.
Pages:
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393