wanders the begging friar, and women can go out o' nights and expect
no harm.

In those old days a goodly knight once fell into sin through the
charms of a lady, and was tried for his crime and condemned to death.
But the queen and her ladies begged him from the king, to give him
life or death as might seem to them most fitting. After much thought
and discussion the queen spoke to him thus: "Sir knight, you know
your life is in my hands to save or take as I will. To you I will
grant life if you can answer me one question and answer it aright:
'What is it that woman most desires?' A year will I give you to find
your answer, and at the year's end you must return to me and suffer
the penalty if you fail to answer correctly."

Away rode the knight sad at heart, and all the year he wandered
seeking an answer to the question. Some told him that women love
riches best, and some honour, some mirth and merry-making, but no two
told him the same thing. Some said that we love flattery and, to my
mind, they were not far wrong! Some said that we like to be thought
able to keep a secret and trustworthy. Ovid in his tale of Midas's
wife has shown that this is wrong, for she could not endure her
secret, but must tell the water--if no living man--that her husband
had two ass's ears.

Now the knight, when he found that he could not learn the answer to
his question, took his way homeward full sad at heart, for the time
was come when he must appear before the queen and pay his forfeit. As
he journeyed in this mood, he came at length to a forest glade and
there he saw four-and-twenty fair ladies all dancing on the green. Up
to them he went, eager to ask his question, but before he could come