Grannonia, when she learnt that they were talking of her lover, asked
at once whose son he was, and if there was any hope of his recovery; to
which the fox made answer that the birds had said he was the son of the
King of Vallone Grosso, and that the only thing that could cure him was
to rub the wounds on his head with the blood of the very birds who had
told the tale.

Then Grannonia knelt down before the fox, and begged him in her sweetest
way to catch the birds for her and procure their blood, promising at the
same time to reward him richly.

'All right,' said the fox, 'only don't be in such a hurry; let's wait
till night, when the little birds have gone to roost, then I'll climb up
and catch them all for you.'

So they passed the day, talking now of the beauty of the Prince, now
of the father of the Princess, and then of the misfortune that had
happened. At last the night arrived, and all the little birds were
asleep high up on the branches of a big tree. The fox climbed up
stealthily and caught the little creatures with his paws one after the
other; and when he had killed them all he put their blood into a little
bottle which he wore at his side and returned with it to Grannonia, who
was beside herself with joy at the result of the fox's raid. But the fox
said, 'My dear daughter, your joy is in vain, because, let me tell you,
this blood is of no earthly use to you unless you add some of mine to
it,' and with these words he took to his heels.

Grannonia, who saw her hopes dashed to the ground in this cruel way, had
recourse to flattery and cunning, weapons which have often stood the sex
in good stead, and called out after the fox, 'Father Fox, you would be
quite right to save your skin, if, in the first place, I didn't feel I
owed so much to you, and if, in the second, there weren't other foxes in
the world; but as you know how grateful I feel to you, and as there are
heaps of other foxes about, you can trust yourself to me. Don't behave
like the cow that kicks the pail over after it has filled it with milk,
but continue your journey with me, and when we get to the capital you
can sell me to the King as a servant girl.'

It never entered the fox's head that even foxes can be outwitted, so
after a bit he consented to go with her; but he hadn't gone far before
the cunning girl seized a stick, and gave him such a blow with it on the
head, that he dropped down dead on the spot. Then Grannonia took some of
his blood