“Will your worship tell me who you are,” replied Don Quixote, “so that my courtesy may be answerable to your deserts?” The young man replied that he was the musician and songster of the night before. “Of a truth,” said Don Quixote, “your worship has a most excellent voice; but what you sang did not seem to me very much to the purpose; for what have Garcilaso’s stanzas to do with the death of this lady?”

“Don’t be surprised at that,” returned the musician; “for with the callow poets of our day the way is for everyone to write as he pleases and pilfer where he chooses, whether it be germane to the matter or not, and nowadays there is no piece of silliness they can sing or write that is not set down to poetic licence.”