precedents of disorder
or mutiny repair it by being examples of his justice. Besiege him never
so strictly, so long as the air is not cut from him, his heart faints
not. He hath learned as well to make use of a victory as to get it, and
pursuing his enemies like a whirlwind, carries all before him; being
assured if ever a man will benefit himself upon his foe, then is the
time when they have lost force, wisdom, courage, and reputation. The
goodness of his cause is the special motive to his valour; never is he
known to slight the weakest enemy that comes armed against him in the
band of justice. Hasty and overmuch heat he accounts the step-dame to
all great actions that will not suffer them to drive; if he cannot
overcome his enemy by force, he does it by time. If ever he shake hands
with war, he can die more calmly than most courtiers, for his continual
dangers have been, as it were, so many meditations of death. He thinks
not out of his own calling when he accounts life a continual warfare,
and his prayers then best become him when armed _cap-a-fie_. He utters
them like the great Hebrew general, on horseback. He casts a smiling
contempt upon calumny; it meets him as if glass should encounter
adamant. He thinks war is never to be given o'er, but on one of these
three conditions: an assured peace, absolute victory, or an honest
death. Lastly, when peace folds him up, his silver head should lean near
the golden sceptre and die in his prince's bosom.

A VAINGLORIOUS COWARD IN COMMAND

Is one that hath bought his place, or come to it by some nobleman's
letter. He loves alive dead pays, yet wishes they may rather happen in
his company by the scurvy than by a battle. View him at a muster, and he
goes with such a nose as if his body were the wheelbarrow that carried
his judgment rumbling to drill his soldiers. No man can worse design
between pride and noble courtesy. He that salutes him not, so far as a
pistol carries level, gives him the disgust or affront, choose you
whether. He trains by the book, and reckons so many postures of the pike
and musket as if he were counting at noddy. When he comes at first upon
a camisado, he looks, like the four winds in painting, as if he would
blow away the enemy; but at the very first onset suffers fear and
trembling to dress themselves in his face apparently. He scorns any man
should take place before him, yet at the entering of a breach he hath
been so humble-minded as to let his l