"That we have power over ourselves to do "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 judgment 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 "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 How vain are such aspiring theories." 66 201 "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 66 66 6 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 "But man's own wilful ill." 210 As thus I spoke1 1 Although Shelley copied this poem with unusual care, I cannot but think the want of a rhyme here is the result of mechanical accident. If we read "As thus spoke I" instead of "As thus I spoke," there would be nothing further to say than that Shelley had used once more an inversion to which 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, 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 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. "Whom we seek here?" 66 but what is he 230 "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 ears object, but which would accord with his practice. Perhaps the best instance to adduce is that in the Letter to Maria Gisborne, a poem which has much in common with Julian and Maddalo, especially as regards diction and metre: And here like some weird Archimage sit I, Plotting dark spells, and devilish enginery.-ED. 66 Some thought the loss of fortune wrought him woe; "But he was ever talking in such sort 66 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 66 through carry "The excellent impostors of this earth "When they outface detection--he had worth, "Poor fellow! but a humourist in his way 66 Alas, what drove him mad ?" "I cannot say; A lady came with him from France, and when "She left him and returned, he wandered then About yon lonely isles of desert sand 66 66 66 Till he grew wild-he had no cash or land Remaining, the police had brought him here 250 "Some fancy took him and he would not bear Removal; so I fitted up for him 66 "Those rooms beside the sea, to please his 66 whim, And sent him busts and books and urns for flowers "Which had adorned his life in happier hours, "And instruments of music-you may guess 66 66 A stranger could do little more or less For one so gentle and unfortunate, "And those are his sweet strains which charm the weight "From madmen's chains, and make this Hell 66 appear 260 "A heaven of sacred silence, hushed to hear."-Nay, this was kind of you-he had no claim, "As the world says" 66 66 Which I on all mankind were I as he Fallen to such deep reverse ;his melody "Is interrupted-now we hear the din "Of madmen, shriek on shriek again begin; "Let us now visit him; after this strain "He ever communes with himself again, "And sees nor hears not any." Having said These words we called the keeper, and he led To an apartment opening on the seaThere the poor wretch was sitting mournfully Near a piano, his pale fingers twined 269 One with the other, and the ooze and wind Rushed through an open casement, and did sway His hair, and starred it with the brackish spray ; His lips were pressed against a folded leaf 280 His words might move some heart that heeded not If sent to distant lands: and then as one 290 Was lost in grief, and then his words came each Unmodulated, cold, expressionless; But that from one jarred accent you might guess It was despair made them so uniform: And all the while the loud and gusty storm Hissed through the window, and we stood behind Stealing his accents from the envious wind Unseen. I yet remember what he said Distinctly such impression his words made. : 'Month after month,' he cried, 'to bear this load 300 And as a jade urged by the whip and goad But live and move, and wretched thing! smile on 310 And wear this mask of falsehood even to those embraces, More misery, disappointment and mistrust That the life ceased to toil within my brow! And then these thoughts would at the least be fled; Let us not fear such pain can vex the dead. That to myself I do not wholly owe |