Peruonto attended the feast.  He was last. 

“There he is!” cried Vastolla.  The King was aghast.

What he saw was a man with the face of a fowl,

with nose like a parrot and eyes like an owl.

His whole head was shaggy, his mouth like a deer

and bare, bandy legs like an old chanticleer.

“She wants him?!” cried the King.  “Get her out of my sight!

Put them both in a barrel and seal it up tight.”

Her ladies in waiting cried copious tears.

In the cask they put raisins, enough for two years.

The barrel was closed and was tossed in the sea.

Vastolla cried out, “What has happened to me?

You’re to blame, you cruel man.  Am I under a spell?”

“If you feed me some raisins,” he said, “I will tell.”

He told of the fairies.  He told of their gift.

Each word he pronounced caused her spirits to lift.

“Then, Peruonto,” she said with a trembling lip,

“why not wish that this barrel become a fine ship?”

“If you feed me some raisins,” he said, “then I will.”

She handed him raisins ‘til he had his fill.

The barrel became a huge vessel with sails,

with guns, and a cabin with royal details.

Vastolla was awed.  She was filled with delight,

but she started to worry as day turned to night.