And so she grew, a beauty fair.

A prince, young Cecio, saw her there

behind a grate, where she of late

was won’t to breathe the evening air.

He smiled.  She laughed.  They played the game

of “who-are-you?” and “what’s-your-name?”

and cast their eyes, and teased with sighs

that set the two of them aflame.

In short, she welcomed his advance.

“By what extraordinary chance

has come this thrill?  We’re strangers, still

I know that you’re my great romance.

If I could manage to get free....”

“Oh, do! And come away with me.”

“Tomorrow, pray. I’ll find a way,”

said Renza.  “It was meant to be.”

Then in her room her favorite hound

with bone in mouth leapt, with a bound,

beneath her bed.  “That’s it!” she said

(Stop, Renza, lest your fate redound!)