THE STUDENT OF BATHE
Experience, though noon auctoritee
Were in this world, is right ynogh for me
To speke of wo that is in exams
For, lordinges, sith I seven yeer was of age
(Cursed be Cambridge that seem eterne on live)
Exams at death's door I hath had five
Or six, or seven, or ninety-three
And al were killers in hir degree.
But me was told, certeyn, nat longe agoon is
That sith al wights else also did this
And hat smoot hir exams, and nat flee
That by the same ensample taughte he me
That I sholde seat, and suffere in silence
Herkne eek, lo, with a sharp word for the nones,
Biside my table, set for myn damnacioun
Had I ne repreeve from examinacioun
"Thou hast yhad five monthes," quod he
-- Myn conscience -- "And yet thou is noght readee?
Thou must be wood!" thus seyde he certeyn.
What that he mente therby, I kan nat seyn;
But that I axe, why that the fifthe papre
Of History hath questions so fewe in nombre?
How manye koude I doon out of four?
I almost stirte reeling out hir door.
Upon swich uncommon questions,
I must devine and glosen, up and doun,
For noon I woot, so now must I lie
And falsehoods wexe and multiplie;
For nothing koude I wel understonde ...