The jute bag made an astonishing appearance as it
fell with apples on the ground,
It was Marque that Lorlei had found.

Spanish tales with foil and grief
had braved the tale of Lorlei and Marque,
The tomato juice from Marque's ears had flown to Lorlei's hidden letter
And poison that fish swim and ate,
Consumed by fisher men and people at the gate
It was a ball that determined their fate
Lorlei had gone and sung to Marque
They lay asleep with sense and sensibility
Beside each other,
On their marital bed.