[Aside.]
What? What’s that?
[Aloud.]
But only one. My law is sacred.—Woman,
I grant to thee the right to wed once more
On one condition. Mark it; thy sixth husband
Must be a miller.—Herald, sound the verdict.
[As the herald blares his trumpet, Alisoun shakes her fist at Chaucer, who eyes her slily; then both burst into laughter.]
HERALD
If any miller here desire this woman,