And learn from others, if thou want’st the skill. 
  But, not to hold our proffer turn’d to scorn,
  Good sureties will we have for thy return;
  That at the time prefix’d thou shalt obey,
  And at thy pledge’s peril keep thy day.

    Woe was the knight at this severe command;
  But well he knew ’twas bootless to withstand: 
  The terms accepted, as the fair ordain, 110
  He put in bail for his return again,
  And promised answer at the day assign’d,
  The best, with Heaven’s assistance, he could find.

    His leave thus taken, on his way he went
  With heavy heart, and full of discontent,
  Misdoubting much, and fearful of the event. 
  ’Twas hard the truth of such a point to find,
  As was not yet agreed among the kind. 
  Thus on he went; still anxious more and more,
  Ask’d all he met, and knock’d at every door; 120
  Inquired of men; but made his chief request,
  To learn from women what they loved the best. 
  They answer’d each according to her mind,
  To please herself, not all the female kind. 
  One was for wealth, another was for place;
  Crones, old and ugly, wish’d a better face: 
  The widow’s wish was oftentimes to wed;
  The wanton maids were all for sport a-bed. 
  Some said the sex were pleased with handsome lies,
  And some gross flattery loved without disguise:  130
  Truth is, says one, he seldom fails to win
  Who flatters well; for that’s our darling sin: 
  But long attendance, and a duteous mind,
  Will work even with the wisest of the kind. 
  One thought the sex’s prime felicity
  Was from the bonds of wedlock to be free;
  Their pleasures, hours, and actions all their own,
  And uncontroll’d to give account to none. 
  Some wish a husband-fool; but such are cursed,
  For fools perverse of husbands are the worst:  140
  All women would be counted chaste and wise,
  Nor should our spouses see, but with our eyes;
  For fools will prate; and though they want the wit
  To find close faults, yet open blots will hit;
  Though better for their ease to hold their tongue,
  For womankind was never in the wrong. 
  So noise ensues, and quarrels last for life;
  The wife abhors the fool, the fool the wife. 
  And some men say that great delight have we,
  To be for truth extoll’d, and secrecy; 150
  And constant in one purpose still to dwell;
  And not our husbands’ counsels to reveal. 
  But that’s a fable; for our sex is frail,
  Inventing rather than not tell a tale. 
  Like leaky sieves, no secrets we can hold: 
  Witness the famous tale that Ovid told.