XV.

If we may judge of matter by the mind, Emasculated to the marrow _It_ Hath but two objects, how to serve, and bind, Deeming the chain it wears even men may fit, Eutropius of its many masters,[9]--blind To worth as freedom, wisdom as to wit, Fearless--because _no_ feeling dwells in ice, Its very courage stagnates to a vice.[10]