Then rose the people presently,
And to the king in rage they went;
They said his daughter dear should dye,
The dragon's fury to prevent:
65 "Our daughters all are dead," quoth they,
"And have been made the dragon's prey;
"And by their blood we rescued were,
And thou hast sav'd thy life thereby;
And now in sooth it is but faire,
70 For us thy daughter so should die."
"O save my daughter," said the king,
"And let ME feel the dragon's sting."
Then fell fair Sabra on her knee,
And to her father dear did say,
75 "O father, strive not thus for me,
But let me be the dragon's prey;
It may be, for my sake alone
This plague upon the land was thrown.
"'Tis better I should dye," she said,
80 "Than all your subjects perish quite;
Perhaps the dragon here was laid,
For my offence to work his spite,
And after he hath suckt my gore,
Your land shall feel the grief no more."
85 "What hast thou done, my daughter dear,
For to deserve this heavy scourge?
It is my fault, as may appear,
Which makes the gods our state to purge;
Then ought I die, to stint the strife,
90 And to preserve thy happy life."
Like mad-men, all the people cried,
"Thy death to us can do no good;
Our safely only doth abide
In making her the dragon's food."
95 "Lo! here I am, I come," quoth she,
"Therefore do what you will with me."
"Nay stay, dear daughter," quoth the queen,
"And as thou art a virgin bright,
That hast for vertue famous been,
100 So let me cloath thee all in white;
And crown thy head with flowers sweet,
An ornament for virgins meet."
And when she was attired so,
According to her mother's mind,
105 Unto the stake then did she go,
To which her tender limbs they bind;
And being bound to stake a thrall,
She bade farewell unto them all.
"Farewell, my father dear," quoth she,