indignant over her want of gratitude.

When the king saw the flax all spun, he gave Renzolla and the
waiting-maid each a little dog, and told them to look after the
animals and train them carefully.

The waiting-maid brought hers up with the greatest possible care,
and treated it almost as if it were her son. But Renzolla said:
‘I don't know what to think. Have I come among a lot of lunatics?
Does the king imagine that I am going to comb and feed a dog with
my own hands?' With these words she opened the window and threw
the poor little beast out, and he fell on the ground as dead as a
stone.

When a few months had passed the king sent a message to say he
would like to see how the dogs were getting on. Renzolla, who
felt very uncomfortable in her mind at this request, hurried off
once more to the fairy. This time she found an old man at the
door of the fairy's palace, who said to her: ‘Who are you, and
what do you want?'

When Renzolla heard his question she answered angrily: ‘Don't you
know me, old Goat-beard? And how dare you address me in such a
way?'

‘The pot can't call the kettle black,' answered the old man, ‘for
it is not I, but you who have a goat's head. Just wait a moment,
you ungrateful wretch, and I will show you to what a pass your
want of gratitude has brought you.'