SECOND NUN.  Perchance she will.

WIFE. (to HIPPOLYTA)
            Say something quick, that we may hold her still.

EMILY.  Hark, did I hear a pleading little voice? 
            Ah, ladies, in her punishment rejoice!

JUNIOR. (meekly, in a weak, timid tone from behind the curtain) Dear ladies all, whom Father Chaucer loved, Hippolyta, and Emily, Mrs. Wife of Bath and Sister Prioress, and the two nuns, and Griselda and anybody else I haven’t mentioned, I’m sorry, and I’ll never do it again.

HIPPOLYTA.  Justice and law demand your punishment.

PRIORESS.  My tender heart would bid me cry “relent”.

JUNIOR. (crying)
            Please, ladies, for sweet Chaucer’s sake.

(They look at each other, moved by the mention of Chaucer’s name.)

JUNIOR.  O Chaucer, you who loved all people, come to my aid!

HIPPOLYTA.  Sorrow has taught the maid the surest key,
            That will unlock our hearts to charity.

PRIORESS.  Come forth, you are forgiven for your crime,

WIFE.  Our duty’s done, to leave it is full time.

JUNIOR. (enters out of bookcase) I’m sure I’m much obliged and if you’d only stay awhile longer I’d like you to meet some of the other girls.

HIPPOLYTA.  We thank you for your courtesy indeed,
            Since you believe, there is no further need.

(They start toward the bookcase.)

GRISELDA.  From all my mates some lesson you might learn.

EMILY.  Forget us not, in case we ne’er return.

JUNIOR.  Let me see, what I can learn from each:  (as she speaks each name, the character disappears in bookcase) Griselda,—­patience; Hippolyta,—­courtesy; the Good Wife—­red stockings—­well, that clothes don’t matter.  Emily—­no rats! (hides her face for a moment) The Prioress—­(the two NUNS disappear)

PRIORESS.  Read the last line that Master Chaucer penned
            About me, and believe it without end!

(She disappears.  The JUNIOR looks at the bookcase curtain which slowly stops swinging.)

JUNIOR.  The last line! (she picks up the book she has thrown upon the floor and finds the passage)

“And thereon hung a brooch of gold full sheen,
On which there was first writ a crowned A,
And after Amor Vincit Omnia.”

Amor vincit omnia, love conquers all.  I believe I do love Chaucer now.  And to think they all live!

(Enter the FRESHMAN, SOPHOMORE and SENIOR.)

SENIOR.  What on earth have you been doing?

JUNIOR.  Talking to the Canterbury Pilgrims.

SOPHOMORE. (tapping her head) Sand in her gear box.

FRESHMAN.  I should think it would make her crazy to study that queer
English so hard!