.
Prithee, delay no longer but begin.
(The Junior looks around until her eye meets the Prioress.)
Junior. Are you the Prioress?
Prioress
.
I am y-clepèd Madame Eglantine.
Junior. What rhymes with Eglantine? Wine? (the Prioress looks duly shocked) Thine? Divine? I know. It's something about singing through your nose the service divine.
First Nun
.