861 With stronger than thyself, turn from the strife away; With weaker shun not, rather court the fray [in just defence].

862 No kinsman's love, no strength of friends has he; How can he bear his foeman's enmity?

863 A craven thing! knows nought, accords with none, gives nought away; To wrath of any foe he falls an easy prey.

864 His wrath still blazes, every secret told; each day This man's in every place to every foe an easy prey.

865 No way of right he scans, no precepts bind, no crimes affright, No grace of good he owns; such man's his foes' delight.

866 Blind in his rage, his lustful passions rage and swell; If such a man mislikes you, like it well.

867 Unseemly are his deeds, yet, proffering aid, the man draws nigh; His hate—'tis cheap at any price—be sure to buy!

868 No gracious gifts he owns, faults many cloud his fame; His foes rejoice, for none with him will kindred claim.

869 The joy of victory is never far removed from those Who've luck to meet with ignorant and timid foes.

870 The task of angry war with men unlearned in virtue's lore Who will not meet, glory shall meet him never more.