Once upon a time there lived two sisters named Lucetta and Troccola, each of whom had a daughter. Lucetta’s daughter, Marziella, was charming and beautiful both inside and outside, but Troccola’s daughter, Puccia, resembled her mother in her sour expression and her nasty disposition. One day Lucetta was making dinner, and she needed some water to cook the carrots in, so she said to Marziella, "Dearest, go to the fountain and bring me a pitcher of water." "Certainly, Mother," said Marziella. "May I take a little cake with me to eat by the fountain, and drink some fresh water afterwards?" "Of course," said her mother, and she took down a little cake from her bread basket, and gave it to Marziella. The girl put the pitcher on a pad on her head, and walked to the fountain. While her pitcher was filling, an old hunchbacked woman came up to her, and seeing the cake which Marziella was just about to take a bite of, said, "Beautiful child, may heaven bring you good fortune. Could you give me a bite of your cake?" Marziella, as gracious as a queen, said "Take it all and eat it, granny. I only regret that it is not made of sugar and almonds."

When the old woman saw how loving and kind Marziella was, she said to her, "Because of your goodness, may you always prosper, and may the stars bring you happiness and contentment. When you breathe, may your lips bring forth the odor of roses and jasmine; when you comb your hair, may pearls and garnets fall from your head, and when you walk, may lilies and violets spring up where you trod." The girl thanked the old woman for her blessing, and went home with her pitcher of water. Her mother cooked the carrots, and they ate their dinner and spent the rest of the day as they were accustomed to. But when the next morning came, and the sun came up, Marziella got up and began to comb her hair. To her astonishment, garnets and pearls rained about her as she combed. She called her mother, and they joyfully gathered up the jewels, and then Lucetta took them to a banker friend to sell them.

As Marziella was gathering up more pearls, however, Troccola came by to visit her sister, and when she saw the pearls, she demanded to know where they had come from. Marzietta, who perhaps did not know the proverb, "Don’t do all you can do, eat all you can eat, spend all you have, or tell all you know," told her aunt the whole story of the hunchbacked old woman. When she heard the story, Troccola was no longer interested in seeing her sister, but rushed home as fast as she could. She gave a cake to her daughter Puccia, and sent her to the fountain with a pitcher. The same old woman appeared, and when she begged a bite of Puccia’s cake, the greedy, selfish girl said to her, "Do you think I have nothing else to do but give bites of my cake to old women? Do you take me for an ass, that I would give away what belongs to me? Go away. My teeth are closer to me than you are." Saying this, she stuffed the cake into her mouth as fast as she could, just to spite the old woman. When the old woman saw the last bite disappear into Puccia’s mouth, she cried angrily, "Go on your way, and when you breathe, may you foam at the mouth like a hard-used donkey, and when you comb your hair, may lice fall from your head in clumps, and wherever you step, may the ground bring forth thistles."

Puccia took her pitcher, and returned home, where her mother was impatiently waiting to comb out her hair. Laying a linen towel across her knees, Troccola placed her daughter’s head in her lap, and began to comb gently. To her horror, out fell heaps of lice which not even quicksilver would kill. Troccola was so angry and envious you would have thought smoke and flames might come from her mouth.

Now it happened that Marziella had an older brother named Ciommo, who had been at the court of Chiunzo for some time, and one day when the king was discussing beauty, and who the most beautiful women in his kingdom were, Ciommo stood up and said that, despite the fact that he had not seen her for some years, in his opnion no one in the kingdom could compare to his sister for beauty. Ciommo also said that he had heard from his mother that a fairy had blessed Marziella’s feet, mouth and hair, so that now they possessed even more virtues. The king was intrigued by what his courtier had said, and he declared that Ciommo should bring his sister to court, and if she was as lovely as Ciommo reported, the king would make her his queen.

Ciommo, thinking this a great opportunity for his sister, sent a messenger to his mother immediately, asking that she bring Marziella to court. But Lucetta was ill in bed, so she asked her sister if she would be willing to escort her niece to the king’s court and the protection of her brother. Troccola was all too willing to seize the opportunity, and she soon took ship for Chiunzo, accompanied by both Marziella and Puccia. One night when they were on the sea, and the watch was light, Troccola seized her niece, and dragging her to the side of the ship, threw her overboard. Troccola thought that was the end of the beautiful Marzietta, but just as Marzietta was drowning, a mermaid took pity on her, and carried her away as a slave.

Troccola and Puccia continued on to Chiunzo to meet Ciommo, introducing Puccia as his sister. Ciommo had not seen his sister for some years, so, although he was uneasy that he did not recognize her, he immediately took the girl to court and presented her to the king as he had promised. But no sooner did she stand before him than he commanded servant girls to comb out her hair, and when they did so, such a shower of lice rained down that the bystanders were utterly disgusted, and when the king looked more closely at her face, he noticed that her lips were bubbling with foam like a mad dog, and where she had walked thistles were beginning to sprout up through the floor. Horrified, the king sent Troccola and Puccia out of his sight, and to punish poor Ciommo for vain boasting, he sentenced him to live in the barns and tend the geese.

Ciommo was completely despondent over his ill fortune, and instead of tending to the geese as he had been ordered, he spent his days lying the the hayloft crying and lamenting his fate, letting the geese wander about the fields and and seashore as they pleased. When the geese wandered down to the shore, the mermaid and Marziella came to the bank and fed them with sweet pastries and rosewater. After a while, the geese were so large and fat they could scarcely see; they might have been mistaken for sheep. At night the geese would waddle up to an orchard near the palace and sleep under the king’s window, singing little goose songs to themselves, with these words:

La, la, la,

The sun and moon are most beautiful,

But more beautiful still is the maiden who feeds us.

After he had heard this song several times, the king called Ciommo to him for an explanation, asking him where and how he fed his geese. But Ciommo was afraid to say he had not been watching the geese, so he just said that he allowed the geese to eat only grass. The king did not believe him, and so sent a servant to follow him. The servant soon observed that Ciommo went up to the hayloft and let the geese wander wherever they wished, and that the geese went down to the seashore where a mermaid and a beautiful maiden fed them with sweet pastry. The servant rushed back to the king with the news of the wonderful sight he had seen.

The king was overcome with desire to see this strange vision, so the next morning he followed the geese himself, and saw Marziella come out of the water. After she had fed the geese, she seated herself upon a rock, and began to comb her long, beautiful hair. She was immediately showered with garnets and pearls, and from her lips came the perfume of roses and jasmine, and where her feet touched there sprang up lilies and violets. When the king saw this, he ran to find Ciommo and brought him back to the shore. "Do you know this lovely maiden?" he said. Ciommo recognized his sister, and ran to embrace her. Marziella was overjoyed to see her brother, and she explained to him and the king what Troccola had done to her. The king, who was by this time completely smitten with her, was overjoyed that he had found her, and turning to Ciommo, he told him that Marziella was ten times more beautiful than he had imagined. He begged to make her his wife, if she would be content to accept him.

"Oh, if I only could," said Marziella, "I would be content to be even your servant, but I am bound at the ankle by a golden chain to a mermaid, and must remain her slave. If I stay away from her too long, or sit too long on the shore, she pulls me back into the sea to keep me in closer captivity. "What can we do to save you?" asked the king. "Come back tomorrow," said Marziella, "and bring a soft file. I will endeavor to be here on this rock, and perhaps if you file the chain it may be removed." "I will be here," replied the king. "I will have everything ready, and then I will lead you to my palace, where you will be the light of my life and the heart of my heart." They clasped hands to plight their troth, and then she dove back into the sea, while he withdrew to his palace, where the fire of anticipation allowed him no rest. He remained awake all night thinking about her lovely hair, and mouth, and feet, cursing at the stars for following their course so slowly, and the sun for being so slow to rise.

Finally, though, the sun did rise, and with Ciommo the king made his way down to the shore, where they found Marziella, just as she had promised. With his own hand the king filed the chain from her ankle, and the looser it became, the stronger became the chains of love around his heart. Finally the chain was removed, and the king was able to lift her onto his horse and ride back to the palace. There Marziella found all the most beautiful women of the kingdom assembled by the king’s order, to receive her as their queen. Then there was a great celebration feast, full of joy. The king ordered that Troccola should be burned to death to pay for her deceit and treachery. He sent for Lucetta, and gave her and Ciommo so much money that they lived as rich people for the rest of their lives. But Puccia he banished from his kingdom, and she spent her life in rags begging for bread, because she had been unwilling to part with a bite. For it is heaven’s will that "the person who gives no pity, finds none."