And then he set about to find Milluccio’s heart’s desire.

As he was turning to and fro he heard a voice inquire,

“Good sir, what seems to trouble you?”  And there before him stood

a beggar in disgraceful clothes.  “I may do you some good.”

“What?  Talk to you?  A beggar?”  “Not so hasty.  Look beneath.

The slightest twig though slender might be used to pick the teeth.”

“That’s true,” said Jenariello.  “Since you seem to speak with sense

I will tell you what I seek and what occasion brings me hence.”

He told him of Milluccio’s quest.  “Do you know such a one?”

“I may be only rubbish, but perhaps your search is done.

That house is a magician’s.  There’s a daughter you must see.

I’ll knock, and when she opens look her over carefully.

She’s the image of the woman that your brother specifies.”

So spoke the beggar (really the magician, in disguise.)

He rapped upon the door which Liviella opened wide.

As soon as Jenariello saw her standing there inside

he knew that he had found her.  He must take her back, but how?

He put some goods in baskets and he cried out, “See them now.

I have rouges.  I have net caps.  I have silken cloths to sell.”

Liviella came outside to see.  She liked his wares quite well.

“But my lady,” Jenariello said, “these things are but the least.

Aboard my ship are jewels upon which your eyes must feast.”

She was curious, so she went.  And so enthralled with them was she,

by the time she raised her head the ship was many miles at sea.

 

Liviella screamed and struggled.  She demanded they return.

Jenariello tried to soothe her.  “Madam, quiet your concern.

I will take you to my brother.  He’s a handsome king and brave,

and he loves you with a love so deep he’d gladly be your slave.”

Liviella was persuaded, and, perhaps, too quickly so,

for she soon forgot her father and the life she used to know.