t the people at the
gates roughly refused him admittance. He was well received, however, at
court; and as he had begun to acknowledge that he was subject to humours
and delusions, and wrote to say as much to Cardinal Albano, who returned
him a most excellent and affecting letter, full of the kindest regard
and good counsel, his friends entertained a hope that he would become
tranquil. But he disappointed them. He again applied to Alfonso for
permission to return to Ferrara--again received it, though on worse than
the old conditions--and again found himself in that city in the beginning
of the year 1579, delighted at seeing a brilliant assemblage from all
quarters of Italy on occasion of a new marriage of the duke's (with a
princess of Mantua). He made up his mind to think that nothing could be
denied him, at such a moment, by the bridegroom whom he meant to honour
and glorify.

Alas! the very circumstance to which he looked for success, tended to
throw him into the greatest of his calamities. Alfonso was to be married
the day after the poet's arrival. He was therefore too busy to attend to
him. The princesses did not attend to him. Nobody attended to him. He
again applied in vain for his papers. He regretted his return; became
anxious to be any where else; thought himself not only neglected but
derided; and at length became excited to a pitch of frenzy. He broke
forth into the most unmeasured invectives against the duke, even in
public; invoked curses on his head and that of his whole race; retracted
all he had ever said in the praise of any of them, prince or otherwise;
and pronounced him and his whole court "a parcel of ingrates, rascals,
and poltroons."[12] The outbreak was reported to the duke; and the
consequence was, that the poet was sent to the hospital of St. Anne,
an establishment for the reception of the poor and lunatic, where he
remained (with the exception of a few unaccountable leave-days) upwards
of seven years. This melancholy event happened in the March of the year
1579.

Tasso was stunned by this blow as much as if he had never done or
suffered any thing to expect it. He could at first do nothing but wonder
and bewail himself, and implore to be set free. The duke answered, that
he must be cured first. Tasso replied by fresh entreaties; the duke
returned the same answers. The unhappy poet had recourse to every friend,
prince, and great man he could think of, to join his entreaties; he
sought refuge i