'It's all very well to put that in,' said the Princess to herself, 'but if I don't like him I shan't marry him. I'll give him all my jewels instead.'
But all the Kings' sons in the world had forgotten their magic, if they ever knew any, and not one single Prince applied at the palace.
So the Princess had to do the only possible thing—make the best of it. And she did it bravely.
Now, when the fly, whose name, by the way, was Muscadel, flew off from the foxglove-bell with the magic jewel on his feathery foot, he flew straight to the Princess's boudoir and settled down on his favourite spot, the corner of the frame of her mirror. And there he sat and wondered how he could best use the magic jewel. And he thought so hard that he never noticed a large spider who spun a web right across the corner where he sat, and when he spread his wings to assist his meditations by a little exercise he was caught in the web.
'Aha!' said the spider, smiling greedily.
'Oh dear! oh dear!' said the fly.
'How nice you look!' said the spider.
Then very slowly and carefully she began to move towards him.
