Marvelling at the loftiness of the girl's spirit and her desperate determination, Minuccio commiserated her not a little; and presently it occurred to him that there was a way in which he might honourably serve her: wherefore:--"Lisa," quoth he, "my faith I plight thee, wherein thou mayst place sure confidence that I shall never play thee false, and lauding thy high emprise, to wit, the setting thine affections upon so great a king, I proffer thee mine aid, whereby, so thou wilt be of good cheer, I hope, and believe, that, before thou shalt see the third day from now go by, I shall have brought thee tidings which will be to thee for an exceeding great joy; and, not to lose time, I will set to work at once." And so Lisa, assuring him that she would be of good cheer, and plying him afresh with instant obsecrations, bade him Godspeed; and Minuccio, having taken leave of her, hied him to one Mico da Siena, a very expert rhymester of those days, who at his instant request made the ensuing song:-- Hence hie thee, Love; and hasting to my King, Give him to know what torment dire I bear, How that to death I fare, Still close, for fear, my passion harbouring. Lo, Love, to thee with clasped hands I turn, And pray thee seek him where he tarrieth, And tell him how I oft for him do yearn, So sweetly he my heart enamoureth; And of the fire, wherewith I throughly burn, I think to die, but may the hour uneath Say, when my grievous pain shall with my breath Surcease; till when, neither may fear nor shame The least abate the flame. Ah! to his ears my woeful story bring. Since of him I was first enamoured, Never hast thou, O Love, my fearful heart With any such fond hope encouraged, As e'er its message to him to impart, To him, my lord, that me so sore bested Holds: dying thus, 'twere grievous to depart: Perchance, were he to know my cruel smart, 'Twould not displease him; might I but make bold My soul to him to unfold, And shew him all my woeful languishing. Love, since 'twas not thy will me to accord Such boldness as that e'er unto my King I may discover my sad heart's full hoard, Or any word or sign thereof him bring: This all my prayer to thee, O sweet my Lord: Hie thee to him, and so him whispering Mind of the day I saw him tourneying With all his paladins environed, And grew enamoured Ev'n to my very heart's disrupturing.