The flames and then to ashes be reduced.
Begone! 'twere better far my husband dies
Than be the prisoner of a grovelling wretch."
Bukka, whose ire was roused, sent word at last—
"Beware, you foolish maid! poor Timma's life
Endanger not by this refusal stern,
Nor lightly treat my prowess, for to me
'Tis easier far to take away his life
Than for the lordly monarch of the woods
To kill the puny, weakly lamb; and nought