Pleasure's a sin, and sometimes sin's a pleasure.
All who joy would win
Must share it,—happiness was born a twin.
Alas, the love of women! it is known
To be a lovely and a fearful thing.
All tragedies are finish'd by a death,
All comedies are ended by a marriage.
Ah, surely nothing dies but something mourns.
And, after all, what is a lie? 'Tis but
The truth in masquerade.
Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away.
'Tis strange, — but true; for truth is always strange;
Stranger than fiction.