Conversation books, Sententiae Pueriles, were in use; with easy
books, such as Corderius's Colloquia, and so on, for boys were taught
to SPEAK Latin, the common language of the educated in Europe. Waifs
of the Armada, Spaniards wrecked on the Irish coast, met "a savage
who knew Latin," and thus could converse with him. The Eclogues of
Mantuanus, a Latin poet of the Renaissance (the "Old Mantuan" of
Love's Labour's Lost), were used, with Erasmus's Colloquia, and, says
Mr. Collins, "such books as Ovid's Metamorphoses" (and other works of
his), "the AEneid, selected comedies of Terence and Plautus, and
portions of Caesar, Sallust, Cicero, and Livy."

"Pro-di-gi-ous!" exclaims Mr. Greenwood, {51a} referring to what Mr.
Collins says Will had read at school. But precocious Latinity was
not thought "prodigious" in an age when nothing but Latin was taught
to boys--not even cricket. Nor is it to be supposed that every boy
read in all of these authors, still less read all of their works, but
these were the works of which portions were read. It is not
prodigious. I myself, according to my class-master, was "a bad and
careless little boy" at thirteen, incurably idle, but I well remember
reading in Ovid and Caesar, and Sallust, while the rest of my time
was devoted to the total neglect of the mathematics, English "as she
was taught," History, and whatsoever else was expected from me.
Shakespeare's time was not thus frittered away; Latin was all he
learned (if he went to school), and, as he was (on my theory) a very
clever, imaginative kind of boy, I can conceive that he was intensely
interested in the stories told by Ovid, and in Catiline's Conspiracy
(thrilling, if you know your Sallust); and if his interest were once
aroused, he would make rapid progress. My own early hatred of Greek
was hissing and malignant, but as soon as I opened Homer, all was
changed. One was intensely interested!