An understanding in the beginning is often an effectual cure for those who are indiscreetly in love.
At eleven o'clock Don Quixote retired to his apartment, and finding a lute there, he tuned it, opened the window, and, perceiving there was somebody walking in the garden, he ran over the strings of the instrument; and, having tuned it again as nicely as he could, he coughed and cleared his throat; and then, with a voice somewhat hoarse, yet not unmusical, he sang the following song, which he had composed himself that very day:—
THE ADVICE.
matteaux's translation.
Love, a strong, designing foe. Careless hearts with ease deceives; Can thy breast resist his blow, Which your sloth unguarded leaves?
If you're idle you're destroyed, All his art on you he tries; But be watchful and employed, Straight the baffled tempter flies.
Maids for modest grace admired, If they would their fortunes raise, Must in silence live retired: 'Tis their virtue speaks their praise.
The divine Tobosan fair, Dulcinea, claims me whole; Nothing can her image tear! 'Tis one substance with my soul.