THE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE. 351
"Husband," said she, poking him in the ribs with her elbow, "wake up. Go down to the flounder. I will be a god."
The fisherman was still half-asleep, yet he was so frightened that he fell out of bed. He thought he had not heard aright, and opened his eyes wide and said:
"What did you say, wife?"
"Husband," she said, "if I cannot make the sun and man rise when I appear I cannot rest. I shall never have a quiet moment till I can make the sun and man rise."
He looked at her in horror and a shudder ran over him.
"Go down at once. I will be a god."
"Alas! wife," said the fisherman, falling on his knees before her, "the flounder cannot do that. 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 lightning, 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, llsebel, 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.*