But in this fragmentary prologue, which began with Lingard and ends with Leibnitz, we have rambled over wide ground. Let us become more orderly, and look at those who were to be made knights. THE TRAINING OF PAGES. “What callest thou Page? What is its humor? Sir; he is _Nobilis ephebus_, and _Puer regius_, student of Knighthood, Breaking hearts and hoping to break lances.”--_Old Play._ I have in another chapter noticed the circumstance of knighthood conferred on an Irish prince, at so early an age as seven years. This was the age at which, in less precocious England, noble youths entered wealthy knights’ families as pages, to learn obedience, to be instructed in the use of weapons, and to acquire a graceful habit of tending on ladies. The poor nobility, especially, found their account in this system, which gave a gratuitous education to their sons, in return for services which were not considered humiliating or dishonorable. These boys served seven years as pages, or varlets--sometimes very impudent varlets--and at fourteen might be regular esquires, and tend their masters where hard blows were dealt and taken--for which encounters they “riveted with a sigh the armor they were forbidden to wear.” Neither pages, varlets, nor household, could be said to have been always as roystering as modern romancers have depicted them. There was at least exceptions to the rule--if there was a rule of roystering. Occasionally, the lads were not indifferently taught before they left their own homes. That is, not indifferently taught for the peculiar life they were about to lead. Even the Borgias, infamous as the name has become through inexorable historians and popular operas, were at one time eminently respectable and exemplarily religious. Thus in the household of the Duke of Gandia, young Francis Borgia, his son, passed his time “among the domestics in wonderful innocence and piety.” It was the only season of his life, however, so passed. Marchangy asserts that the pages of the middle ages were often little saints; but this could hardly have been the case since “espiègle comme un page,” “hardi comme un page,” and other illustrative sayings have survived even the era of pagedom. Indeed, if we may believe the minstrels, and they were often as truth-telling as the annalist, the pages were now and then even more knowing and audacious than their masters. When the Count Ory was in love with the young Abbess of Farmoutier, he had recourse to his page for counsel. “Hola! mon page, venez me conseiller, L’amour me berce, je ne puis sommeiller; Comment me prendre pour dans ce couvent entrer?” How ready was the ecstatic young scamp with his reply:-- “Sire il faut prendre quatorze chevaliers, Et tous en nonnes il vous les faut habiller, Puis, à nuit close, à la porte il faut heurter.”