The Story of the Fisherman and His Wife
Emperor and pope he can make you. I implore you, be content and remain pope.'
Then she flew into a passion, her hair hung wildly about her face, she pushed him with her foot and screamed:
'I am not contented, and I shall not be contented! Will you go?'
So he hurried on his clothes as fast as possible, and ran away as if he were mad.
But the storm was raging so fiercely that he could scarcely stand. Houses and trees were being blown down, the mountains were being shaken, and pieces of rock were rolling in the sea. The sky was as black as ink, it was thundering and lightening, and the sea was tossing in great waves as high as church towers and mountains, and each had a white crest of foam.
So he shouted, not able to hear his own voice:
'Once a prince, but changed you be Into a flounder in the sea. Come! for my wife, Ilsebel, Wishes what I dare not tell.'
'Well, what does she want now?' asked the flounder.
'Alas!' said he, 'she wants to be a god.'
'Go home, then; she is sitting again in the hut.'
And there they are sitting to this day.