II.
So said Lura (for in troth 'twas she)
Ere she left her haven in the tree.
Nimbly climbing down, she met the prince:
He who'd meant to slay her not long since.
Greatly were the thirteen men amazed
For to see a maid in garb so crazed:
Like a-thousand scraps of fur, or more,
Had been used to make the cloak she wore!
Quoth the prince: "By chance, or by God's will,
Thou art lucky to be living still.
It were greatly rash to wear that cape
Covering too well thy human shape!"
"Pray forgive my folly," Lura said,
"I've no other clothes to wear instead."
"What's thy name?" the prince did then enquire.
Said the princess, "I have not one, Sire."
"Nor no parents – nor no kin or kith?"
"None who I may claim relation with."
Now the prince looked kindly on the lass.
"Go thy way," spake he, "I'll let thee pass."
"Nay," said Lura, "Let me come with you!
Give me some low chore or work to do:
I would fain thy staff of servants join,
Thence to earn some bread, or meager coin –
For i'faith I dread to tarry more
On this dank and lonely forest floor."
"Aye," the prince agreed, "mayhap there be
Some befitting servant's role for thee…
I recall our Cook desired some aid:
You may prove your worth to him, strange maid."
So it passed the princess of one land,
In another, turned low kitchen-hand.