FRIAR
He that wears the ring?
Methinks I smell: but who’s your man?
ALISOUN
Sweet owl,
The sunlight hurts thine eyes, thou starest too hard.
[Blindfolding his eyes with her hands, she whirls him thrice
round.]
Behold him.
FRIAR
[Dizzily.]
FRIAR
He that wears the ring?
Methinks I smell: but who’s your man?
ALISOUN
Sweet owl,
The sunlight hurts thine eyes, thou starest too hard.
[Blindfolding his eyes with her hands, she whirls him thrice
round.]
Behold him.
FRIAR
[Dizzily.]