Nor urg'd by any private injuries,
(Nor sent, nor tolerated, by their Prince,
Nor caring whether side hath giv'n offence)
Run rambling through the World, to kill and slay,
Like needie Butchers, for two groats a day?
These men may side, where Conquests, God bestowes;
Yet, when the Field is wonne, these men doe lose.