Chapter 1528 of 1964 · 133 words · ~1 min read

VIII.

But neither love nor hate in much excess; Though 't was not once so. If I sneer sometimes, It is because I cannot well do less, And now and then it also suits my rhymes. I should be very willing to redress Men's wrongs, and rather check than punish crimes, Had not Cervantes, in that too true tale Of Quixote, shown how all such efforts fail.

IX.[656]

Of all tales 't is the saddest--and more sad, Because it makes us smile: his hero's right, And still pursues the right;--to curb the bad His only object, and 'gainst odds to fight His guerdon: 't is his virtue makes him mad! But his adventures form a sorry sight;-- A sorrier still is the great moral taught By that real Epic unto all who have thought.[lx]