Fantasy Friday: Self-Rescued

The Princess' fitful rest came to an end
Abruptly, as a ruler's sleep doth oft.
But what her sudden wake'ning did portend
Nobody could have known. The bed was soft,
The sleeping potion she had lately brewed
Herself, that nothing in it harmed the child
That only she knew yet of, lent a crude
Yet restful doziness to all her wild,
Unruly thoughts, yet reflex served her well:
The basilisk hid in her chamber had
No chance against her blade. Its single cell
As white as that gown in which she was clad
(Did you not know this of its kind? It's true!)
Was quickly cloven, neatly, right in two!