No general trusts peace so completely that he stops preparing for war. War might never come, but it's already been declared. You get arrogant about your beautiful house, as if it could never burn down or collapse. Wealth makes you dizzy, as if your riches were safe from all danger. As if they were so vast that Fortune herself couldn't destroy them.
No general ever trusts so implicitly in the maintenance of peace as not to make himself ready for a war, which, though it may not actually be waged, has nevertheless been declared; you are rendered over-proud by a fine house, as though it could never be burned or fall down, and your heads are turned by riches as though they were beyond the reach of all dangers and were so great that Fortune has not sufficient strength to swallow them up.