I took this to my dear collaborator in fear and trembling, and, as I had feared, he at once fell into the depths of despair.
"That was the best thing in my work," he said.

"I nursed and caressed that sonnet, and now you have ruined it." In the face of this despair, I screwed up my courage.

As I had previously cut down the verse, I now tried lengthening out the music.
Then, I sang both versions to the disconsolate poet.
And what a miracle! He was altogether reconciled, approved both versions, and did not know which one to choose.

We ended with a patchwork.

The two quatrains are in verses of ten feet, and the two tiercets in Alexandrine metre.
Outside of our work, too, our relations were delightful.