Our troops have now been long disus’d to war;
Yet, do not think I mean their fame to tarnish,
Or on a Briton throw the damned slur
Of shameful cowardice; no, my good lords!
But, though their ribs do serve as castle walls,
And fast imprison their strong, lion hearts,
Yet e’en the lion, when full gorg’d with food,
Will bask, and tamely lay him down to sleep;
Then in such sort, hath undisturbed peace,
And want of custom, (nature’s substitute,