Don Quixote eBook

 They say a goodly shade he finds
   Who shelters ’neath a goodly tree;
 And such a one thy kindly star
   In Bejar bath provided thee: 
 A royal tree whose spreading boughs
   A show of princely fruit display;
 A tree that bears a noble Duke,
   The Alexander of his day.

 Of a Manchegan gentleman
   Thy purpose is to tell the story,
 Relating how he lost his wits
   O’er idle tales of love and glory,
 Of “ladies, arms, and cavaliers:” 
   A new Orlando Furioso-
 Innamorato, rather—­who
   Won Dulcinea del Toboso.

 Put no vain emblems on thy shield;
   All figures—­that is bragging play. 
 A modest dedication make,
   And give no scoffer room to say,
 “What!  Alvaro de Luna here? 
   Or is it Hannibal again? 
 Or does King Francis at Madrid
   Once more of destiny complain?”

 Since Heaven it hath not pleased on thee
   Deep erudition to bestow,
 Or black Latino’s gift of tongues,
   No Latin let thy pages show. 
 Ape not philosophy or wit,
   Lest one who cannot comprehend,
 Make a wry face at thee and ask,
   “Why offer flowers to me, my friend?”

 Be not a meddler; no affair
   Of thine the life thy neighbours lead: 
 Be prudent; oft the random jest
   Recoils upon the jester’s head. 
 Thy constant labour let it be
   To earn thyself an honest name,
 For fooleries preserved in print
   Are perpetuity of shame.

 A further counsel bear in mind: 
   If that thy roof be made of glass,
 It shows small wit to pick up stones
   To pelt the people as they pass. 
 Win the attention of the wise,
   And give the thinker food for thought;
 Whoso indites frivolities,
   Will but by simpletons be sought.

             Amadisof Gaul
       To Don Quixote of la Mancha

SONNET

Thou that didst imitate that life of mine
When I in lonely sadness on the great
Rock Pena Pobre sat disconsolate,
In self-imposed penance there to pine;
Thou, whose sole beverage was the bitter brine
Of thine own tears, and who withouten plate
Of silver, copper, tin, in lowly state
Off the bare earth and on earth’s fruits didst dine;
Live thou, of thine eternal glory sure. 
So long as on the round of the fourth sphere
The bright Apollo shall his coursers steer,
In thy renown thou shalt remain secure,
Thy country’s name in story shall endure,
And thy sage author stand without a peer.

DON BELIANIS OF GREECE To Don Quixote of la Mancha

SONNET