“Does one who has gone mad know he has gone mad?”
asks aloud the old man,

"If one does know, then surely I am not mad for I do not know;
If one does not know, then surely I am mad for I too do not know."

The man ponders naked, a bathrobe turbaned around his wet hair and sitting cross-legged on his bedroom floor. He faces directly away from the wall mirror and trips his handsome head off his bitter tongue.

Putting his chin up he resigns his thoughts, declaring
"If a sane man knows that he is sane than I surely must know too."