Could human courts take vengeance on the mind, 865
Axes might rust, and racks and gibbets fall:
Guard, then, thy mind, and leave the rest to fate.
Lorenzo! wilt thou never be a man?
The man is dead, who for the body lives,
Lured, by the beating of his pulse, to list
With every lust, that wars against his peace;
And sets him quite at variance with himself. 872
Thyself, first, know; then love: a self there is
Of Virtue fond, that kindles at her charms.