'But since the sacred leaves to all are free, And men interpret texts, why should not we? By this no more was meant than to have shown That sovereign goodness dwells in Him alone, 680 Who only Is, and is but only One. But grant the worst; shall women then be weigh'd By every word that Solomon hath said What though this king (as ancient story boasts) Built a fair temple to the Lord of Hosts; He ceased at last his Maker to adore, And did as much for idol gods, or more. Beware what lavish praises you confer On a rank lecher and idolater; Whose reign indulgent God, says Holy Writ, 690 Did but for David's righteous sake permit; David the monarch after Heaven's own mind, Who loved our sex, and honour'd all our kind. 'Well, I'm a woman, and as such must speak; Silence would swell me, and my heart would break. Know, then, I scorn your dull authorities, Your idle wits, and all their learned lies: By heaven, those authors are our sex's foes, Whom, in our right, I must and will oppose!' 'Nay,' quoth the king, 'dear madam, be not wroth; 700 I yield it up; but since I gave my oath, That this much-injured knight again should see; It must be done--I am a king,' said he, 'And one whose faith has ever sacred been--' 'And so has mine' (she said)--'I am a queen: Her answer she shall have, I undertake; And thus an end of all dispute I make. Try when you list; and you shall find, my lord, It is not in our sex to break our word.' We leave them here in this heroic strain, 710 And to the knight our story turns again; Who in the garden, with his lovely May, Sung merrier than the cuckoo or the jay: This was his song, 'Oh kind and constant be; Constant and kind I'll ever prove to thee.' Thus singing as he went, at last he drew By easy steps to where the pear-tree grew: The longing dame look'd up, and spied her love Full fairly perch'd among the boughs above. She stopp'd, and sighing, 'O good gods!' she cried, 720 'What pangs, what sudden shoots distend my side Oh for that tempting fruit, so fresh, so green; Help, for the love of heaven's immortal queen! Help, dearest lord, and save at once the life Of thy poor infant, and thy longing wife!' Sore sigh'd the knight to hear his lady's cry, But could not climb, and had no servant nigh: Old as he was, and void of eyesight too, What could, alas! a helpless husband do? 'And must I languish, then, (she said), and die, 730 Yet view the lovely fruit before my eye? At least, kind sir, for charity's sweet sake, Vouchsafe the trunk between your arms to take; Then from your back I might ascend the tree; Do you but stoop, and leave the rest to me.' 'With all my soul,' he thus replied again, 'I'd spend my dearest blood to ease thy pain.' With that his back against the trunk he bent; She seized a twig, and up the tree she went.