d
then sing:--

"'Be ye not amazed that I
Am enchanted as a fly,
Evil witchcraft was around me,
Evil witches' spells have bound me:
Now I am a fly I know,
But woe to her who made me so!'

"And when the young signore stretched out his hand, the fly came buzzing
with joy and lighted like a bird on his finger, and this she did with
great joy whenever any of the poor whom she had befriended came to see
her, and so she behaved to all whom she had loved. And when it was
observed that the fly had no fear of holy things, but seemed to love
them, all believed in her song.

"Till one day the young signore, calling all the family and friends
together, said: 'This is certainly true, that she who was to have been my
wife is here, turned into a fly. And as for her being a witch, ye can
all see that she fears neither holy water nor a crucifix. But I believe
that these women here, her nurse and daughter, have filled our ears with
lies, and that the nurse herself is the sorceress who hath done the evil
deed. Now, I propose that we take all three, the fly, the mother, and
daughter, and hang the room with verbena, which I have provided, and
sprinkle the three with much holy water, all of us making the _castagna_
and _jettatura_, and see what will come of it.'

"Then the two witches began to scream and protest in a rage, but as soon
as they opened their mouths, holy water was dashed into their faces,
whereat they howled more horribly than ever, and at last promised, if
their lives should be spared in any manner, to tell the whole truth, and
to disenchant the bride. Which they forthwith did.

"Then those present seized the witches, and said: 'Your lives shall
indeed be spared, but it is only just that ere ye go ye shall be as
nicely combed, according to the proverb which says, "Comb me and I'll
comb thee!"'

"Said and done, but the combing this time drew blood, and the mother and
daughter, shrinking smaller and smaller, flew away at last as two vile
carrion-flies through the window.

"And as the story spread about Florence, every one came to see the house
where this had happened, and so it was that the street got the name of
the _Via della Mosca_ or Fly Lane."

* * * * *

There is a curious point in this story well worth noting. In it the
sorceress lulls the maiden to sleep before transforming her, that is,
causes her death before reviving her with a comb of thorns.