““Imagination is often truer than fact,” said Gwendolen, decisively, though she could no more have explained these glib words than if they had been Coptic or Etruscan. “I shall be so glad to learn all about Tasso—and his madness especially. I suppose poets are always a little mad.” “To be sure—‘the poet’s eye in a fine frenzy rolling’; and somebody says of Marlowe— ‘For that fine madness still he did maintain, Which always should possess the poet’s brain.’” “But it was not always found out, was it?” said Gwendolen innocently. “I suppose some of them rolled their eyes in private. Mad people are often very cunning.””
