Obtain my pardon, shift the blame,
and throw your friends into the flame.
On the morrow, I will return;
a second chance for you to burn.
Or would you rather die today?
Makes little difference either way.
Do you believe me such a fool
to let you make of me your tool?
Descend your litter, stand your ground,
and we will see who remains crowned.
Defend yourself, act like a man—
play the part now, if you can.
Offence compounds offence, you brute.
Your dirt's not fit to touch my boot.
Demands from cowards—worthless threats.
Though he's resting, see how he sweats.
Tale Told 