FRESHMAN. Wait for me.


(_Exeunt_ SENIOR, SOPHOMORE _and_ FRESHMAN.)


JUNIOR. Here's where I die. Where's that hateful book? It won't do any
good to lose it, there are a dozen more copies in the bookcase. (_sings_)

"Hang Geof Chaucer on a sour apple tree,
Hang Geof Chaucer on a sour apple tree,
Hang Geof Chaucer on a sour apple tree,
Our teacher marks us on!"
(_exit as she sings_)


(_The curtain in front of the bookcase shakes more violently than before.
Then from behind the curtain comes the voice of the_ WIFE OF BATH.)


WIFE. Ladies, I prithee harkneth for the best.
Can Chaucer's children swich words hear, and rest?
This is the point, to speken short and pleyn,
We, one and all, were usèd with desdeyn.

(_She comes out of the bookcase_.)

Come forth and whan we've made our reckoning