An untrained soldier is like a young hound, that when he first falls to
hunt, he knows not how to lay his nose to the earth; who, having his
name but in a book, and marched twice about a market-place, when he
comes to a piece of service knows not how to bestow himself. He marches
as if he were at plough, carries his pike like a pike-staff, and his
sword before him for fear of losing from his side. If he be a shot, he
will be rather ready to say a grace over his piece, and so to discharge
his hands of it, than to learn how to discharge it with a grace. He puts
on his armour over his ears, like a waistcoat, and wears his morion like
a nightcap. When he is quartered in the field, he looks for his bed, and
when he sees his provant, he is ready to cry for his victuals; and ere
he know well where he is, wish heartily he were at home again, with his
head hanging down as if his heart were in his hose. He will sleep till a
drum or a deadly bullet awake him; and so carry himself in all companies
that, till martial discipline have seasoned his understanding, he is
like a cipher among figures, an owl among birds, a wise man among fools,
and a shadow among men.