[Outside, sings.]
Ye pouting wenches, pretty wives,
That itch at weddings, fairs, and wakes,
For trothal-rings and kissing-cakes,
For wristlets, pins, and pearlèd knives,
Hither trip it!
To peep i’ the friar’s farsèd tippet,
Who gently for sweet sinners’ sakes—
[Enter the Friar and Alisoun.]
ALISOUN