d-Lightning told her; but on her way
back with the instruments she opened the box, and lo and behold! they
all flew out and about--here a flute, there a flageolet, here a pipe,
there a bagpipe, making a thousand different sounds in the air, whilst
Parmetella stood looking on and tearing her hair in despair.

Meanwhile the ogress came downstairs, and not finding Parmetella, she
went to the window, and called out to the door, "Crush that traitress!"
But the door answered:

"I will not use the poor girl ill,
For she has made me at last stand still."

Then the ogress cried out to the horse, "Trample on the thief!" But the
horse replied:

"Let the poor girl go her way,
For she has given me the hay."

And lastly, the ogress called to the dog, saying, "Bite the rogue!" But
the dog answered:

"I'll not hurt a hair of her head,
For she it was who gave me the bread."

Now as Parmetella ran crying after the instruments, she met
Thunder-and-Lightning, who scolded her well, saying, "Traitress, will
you not learn at your cost that by your fatal curiosity you are brought
to this plight?" Then he called back the instruments with a whistle,
and shut them up again in the box, telling Parmetella to take them to
his mother. But when the ogress saw her, she cried aloud, "O cruel
fate! even my sister is against me, and refuses to give me this
pleasure."

Meanwhile the new bride arrived--a hideous pest, a compound of
ugliness, a harpy, an evil shade, a horror, a monster, a large tub, who
with a hundred flowers and boughs about her looked like a newly opened
inn. Then the ogress made a great banquet for her; and being full of
gall and malice, she had the table placed close to a well, where she
seated her seven daughters, each with a torch in one hand; but she gave
two torches to Parmetella, and made her sit at the edge of the well, on
purpose that, when she fell asleep, she might tumble to the bottom.

Now whilst the dishes were passing to and fro, and their blood began to
get warm, Thunder-and-Lightning, who turned quite sick at the sight of
the new bride, said to Parmetella, "Traitress, do you love me?" "Ay, to
the top of the roof," she replied. And he answered, "If you love me,
give me a kiss." "Nay," said Parmetella, "YOU indeed, who have such a
pretty creature at your side! Heaven preserve her to you a hundred
years in health and with plenty of sons!" Then the new bride answered,
"It is very clea