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6 comments so far...
i know, "what's the s word", and, quite a letdown, but there you have it
(my guess is SONNET
Or Love is lacking in intelligence, Or to the height of cruelty attains, Or else it is my doom to suffer pains Beyond the measure due to my offence. But if Love be a God, it follows thence That he knows all, and certain it remains No God loves cruelty; then who ordains This penance that enthrals while it torments? It were a falsehood, Chloe, thee to name; Such evil with such goodness cannot live; And against Heaven I dare not charge the blame, I only know it is my fate to die. To him who knows not whence his malady A miracle alone a cure can give.
"There is nothing to be learned from that rhyme," said Sancho, "unless by that clue there's in it, one may draw out the ball of the whole matter."
"What clue is there?" said Don Quixote.
"I thought your worship spoke of a clue in it," said Sancho.
"I only said Chloe," replied Don Quixote; "and that no doubt, is the name of the lady of whom the author of the sonnet complains; and, faith, he must be a tolerable poet, or I know little of the craft."
"Then your worship understands rhyming too?"
"And better than thou thinkest," replied Don Quixote, "as thou shalt see when thou carriest a letter written in verse from beginning to end to my lady Dulcinea del Toboso, for I would have thee know, Sancho, that all or most of the knights-errant in days of yore were great troubadours and great musicians, for both of these accomplishments, or more properly speaking gifts, are the peculiar property of lovers-errant: true it is that the verses of the knights of old have more spirit than neatness in them."
Soon Myrna's brutal social manner had driven my courtiers from the table and
we were left alone, all cold coffee and hot words. When I failed to agree with her braying and babbling,
she told me that I was obviously anti-Semitic. Her logic was a combination of half-truths and cliches,
her worldview a compound of misconceptions deriving from a history of our nation as written from
the perspective of a subway tunnel. She dug into her large black valise and assaulted me (almost
literally) with greasy copies of Men and Masses and Now! and Broken Barricades and Surge and Revulsion
and various manifestos and pamphlets pertaining to organizations of which she was a most active member:
Students for Liberty, Youth for Sex, The Black Muslims, Friends of Latvia, Children for Misceganation,
The White Citizens' Councils. Myrna was, you see, terribly engaged in her society; I, on the other
hand, older and wiser, was terribly dis-engaged.