Arcades Ambo

A. YOU blame me that I ran away?
        Why, Sir, the enemy advanced:
    Balls flew about, and—who can say
        But one, if I stood firm, had glanced
    In my direction? Cowardice?
    I only know we don’t live twice,
    Therefore—shun death, is my advice.

B. Shun death at all risks? Well, at some
        True, I myself, Sir, though I scold
     The cowardly, by no means come
        Under reproof as overbold
    —I, who would have no end of brutes
    Cut up alive to guess what suits
    My case and saves my toe from shoots.

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