That we have power over ourselves to do _185 And suffer--what, we know not till we try; But something nobler than to live and die-- So taught those kings of old philosophy Who reigned, before Religion made men blind; And those who suffer with their suffering kind _190 Yet feel their faith, religion.' 'My dear friend,' Said Maddalo, 'my judgement will not bend To your opinion, though I think you might Make such a system refutation-tight As far as words go. I knew one like you _195 Who to this city came some months ago, With whom I argued in this sort, and he Is now gone mad,--and so he answered me,-- Poor fellow! but if you would like to go, We'll visit him, and his wild talk will show _200 How vain are such aspiring theories.' 'I hope to prove the induction otherwise, And that a want of that true theory, still, Which seeks a "soul of goodness" in things ill Or in himself or others, has thus bowed _205 His being--there are some by nature proud, Who patient in all else demand but this-- To love and be beloved with gentleness; And being scorned, what wonder if they die Some living death? this is not destiny _210 But man's own wilful ill.' As thus I spoke Servants announced the gondola, and we Through the fast-falling rain and high-wrought sea Sailed to the island where the madhouse stands. We disembarked. The clap of tortured hands, _215 Fierce yells and howlings and lamentings keen, And laughter where complaint had merrier been, Moans, shrieks, and curses, and blaspheming prayers Accosted us. We climbed the oozy stairs Into an old courtyard. I heard on high, _220 Then, fragments of most touching melody, But looking up saw not the singer there-- Through the black bars in the tempestuous air I saw, like weeds on a wrecked palace growing, Long tangled locks flung wildly forth, and flowing, _225 Of those who on a sudden were beguiled Into strange silence, and looked forth and smiled Hearing sweet sounds. Then I: 'Methinks there were A cure of these with patience and kind care, If music can thus move...but what is he _230 Whom we seek here?' 'Of his sad history I know but this,' said Maddalo: 'he came To Venice a dejected man, and fame Said he was wealthy, or he had been so; Some thought the loss of fortune wrought him woe; _235 But he was ever talking in such sort As you do--far more sadly--he seemed hurt, Even as a man with his peculiar wrong, To hear but of the oppression of the strong, Or those absurd deceits (I think with you _240 In some respects, you know) which carry through The excellent impostors of this earth When they outface detection--he had worth, Poor fellow! but a humorist in his way'--