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and tuned it as well as he uld, he spat and cleared hischest, and then with a voice a little hoarse but full-toned, he sangthe follog ballad, which he had hiself that day posed:

ighty love the hearts of aidens

doth unsettle and perplex,

and the strunt he es

ost of all is idleness

seg, stitchg, any labour,

havg always work to do,

to the po love stilleth

is the antidote ost sure

and to proper-ded aidens

who desire the atron&039;s na

odesty&039;s a arria portion,

odesty their highest praise

n of prudence and discretion,

urtiers gay and gallant knights,

with the wanton dasels dally,

but the odest take to wife

there are passions, transient, fleetg,

loves hostelries declar&039;d,

sunrise loves, with sunset ended,

when the guest hath gone his way

love that sprgs up swift and sudden,

here to-day, to-orrow flown,

passes, leaves no trace behd it,

leaves no ia on the ul

patg that is d on patg

aketh no display or show;

where one beauty&039;s possession

there no other can take hold

dulcea del tobo

pated on y heart i wear;

never fro its tablets, never,

can her ia be eras&039;d

the ality of all lovers

ost esteed is nstancy;

&039;t is by this that love works wonders,

this exalts the to the skies

don ixote had got far with his ng, to