"_Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away; A single laugh demolished the right arm Of his own country; seldom since that day Has Spain had heroes. While Romance could charm, The world gave ground before her bright array; And therefore have his volumes done such harm, That all their glory, as a composition, Was dearly purchased by his land's perdition._" The chivalresque madness was well-nigh over when our author made his onset: he but hastened the end. After the publication of _Don Quixote_, no new chivalresque romance was written, and only one—the _Caballero del Febo_ (1617)—was reprinted. And the reason is obvious. It was not that Cervantes' work was merely destructive, that he was simply a clever artist in travesty: it was that he gave better than he took away, and that he revealed himself, not only to Spain, but to the world, as a great creative master, and an irresistible, because an universal, humourist. There is endless discussion as to the significance of his masterpiece, and the acutest critics have uttered "great argument about it and about." That an allegory of human life was intended is incredible. Cervantes presents the Ingenious Gentleman as the Prince of Courtesy, affable, gallant, wise on all points save that trifling one which annihilates Time and Space and changes the aspect of the Universe: and he attaches to him, Sancho, self-seeking, cautious, practical in presence of vulgar opportunities. The types are eternal. But it were too much to assume that there exists any conscious symbolic or esoteric purpose in the dual presentation. Cervantes is inspired solely by the artistic intention which would create personages, and would divert by abundance of ingenious fantasy, by sublimation of character, by wealth of episode and incident, and by the genius of satiric portraiture. He tessellates with whatsoever mosaic chances to strike his fancy. It may be that he inlays his work with such a typical sonnet as that which Mr. Gosse has transferred from the twenty-third chapter of _Don Quixote_ to _In Russet and Silver_—an excellent example, which shall be quoted here:— "_When I was marked for suffering, Love forswore All knowledge of my doom: or else at ease Love grows a cruel tyrant, hard to please; Or else a chastisement exceeding sore A little sin hath brought me. Hush! no more! Love is a god! all things he knows and sees, And gods are bland and mild! Who then decrees The dreadful woe I bear and yet adore? If I should say, O Phyllis, that 'twas thou, I should speak falsely, since, being wholly good Like Heaven itself, from thee no ill may come. There is no hope; I must die shortly now, Not knowing why, since sure no witch hath brewed The drug that might avert my martyrdom._"