But Renzolla , who had been spoilt and petted in the fairy 's house , and was quite unaware of the change that had taken place in her appearance , threw the flax out of the window and said : ` What is the king thinking of that he should give me this work to do ? If he wants shirts he can buy them . It is n't even as if he had picked me out of the gutter , for he ought to remember that I brought him seven thousand golden guineas as my wedding portion , and that I am his wife and not his slave . He must be mad to treat me like this . ' All the same , when Saturday evening came , and she saw that the waiting-maid had finished her task , she took fright lest she should be punished for her idleness . So she hurried off to the palace of the fairy , and confided all her woes to her . The fairy embraced her tenderly , and gave her a sack full of spun flax , in order that she might show it to the king , and let him see what a good worker she was . Renzolla took the sack without one word of thanks , and returned to the palace , leaving the kind fairy very 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 do n'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 : ` Do n't you know me , old Goat-beard ? And how dare you address me in such a way ? ' ` The pot ca n'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 XXXXX what a pass your want of gratitude has brought you . '
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