Then the Lad turned his eyes, full of the burning passion that consumed him, towards the Youngest Princess, and he said to her:
"Dost thou wish it? I will drink it for love of thee. Why hast thou such an icy heart?"
"My heart is not icy!" she answered, "The fire of thy passion hath warmed it. Do not drink! I would rather be a Gardener's wife, if you were my husband, than be as I am, and an Emperor's daughter!"
He listened to her, and then he threw the drink away.
"I tell thee," he said, "thou shalt never be a Gardener's wife!"
All that were at the table heard them as they spoke. The Spell, under which they were, broke; the Bewitched Castle disappeared, and they all found themselves in the Emperor's castle. When the Emperor saw them, he stood, stunned by so much wonder, with both hands in his beard!
The Lad explained everything to him. The Emperor then gave him his Youngest Daughter, and each of the other princesses chose a lad, and they all married in great joy. And the joy at the wedding was so great that one mouth like mine couldn't describe it to you.
However, before marrying, the Youngest Princess asked the Lad where his power lay, that he had succeeded in overcoming their Doom, and he told her. So she burnt the Laurels, that Husband and Wife might be equal! Then they married, and lived a life as happy as one can live on this spotted world of ours, until they were drowned in Old Age.
And I jumped on a Saddle, and came to tell you so. . . .
"Bringing in the Fly."
[Folk-Lore, xxv. pp. 198-205.]
By an unfortunate oversight I omitted to acknowledge my indebtedness to Miss C. S. Burne for her very kindly and apposite criticism of the first draft of my paper—criticism which induced me to re-write it.
In my summary of evidence for the fact that insects were frequently regarded, both in Great Britain and on the Continent,
