Section09.pdf - MIT Media Laboratory

‘Ah wife, now you are Emperor you must be content
indeed!’ exclaimed the Fisherman.
‘Content!’ she cried sharply. ‘What nonsense! I must
be Pope. Off to that Flounder you go at once and tell
him my commands.’
‘I could not ask him for that,’ gasped tht Fisherman.
‘There is only one Pope, and he cannot grant it.’
‘How ridiculous you are!’ cried his wife. ‘If he can
make me Emperor, he can make me Pope. Go this
instant. I, the Emperor, command it!’
Then the Fisherman was afraid. Bus he dared not
disobey his wife, so he set off for the sea-shore. But
when he reached the pool he was afraid indeed, for
a great tempest was blowing and the waves splashed
fiercely on the shore.
Nevertheless he stood by the edge and cried:
‘Magic Flounder of the sea
Come, I pray you, here to me!
For my wife, my Isabel
Asks what I scarce darr to tell.’
Up through the water came the Flounder and said:
‘What does she want this time?’
‘Alas,’ said the Fisherman. ‘She wants to be Pope.’
‘Go home,’ said the Flounder, ‘she is already Pope.’
So the Fisherman went, and when he got there he
found a mighty cathedral surrounded by palaces. He
pushed his way through the crowds, and inside where
thousands of candles burnt brightly he saw his wife
dressed in gold and sitting on a throne, with Three
Crowns on her head. And now Emperors and Kings
knelt before her and kissed her toe.
‘Wife,’ said the Fisherman, ‘are you really Pope now?’
‘Yes,’ she answered, ‘I am the Pope.’
So he stood looking at her, and it was just as if he
were looking at she bright sun.
‘Now,’ said he as last, ‘you have nothing more to ask.
For you cannot be anything greater than Pope.’
‘I’m not so sure ofthat,’ she answered.
Then they went off so bed, and the Fisherman fell
asleep at once, for he had run about a good deal that
day. But his wife could not sleep, for in her greediness
she was trying so think what there was left for her to be.
At last she saw she sun rise in she red dawn, and she
sat up in bed exclaiming:
‘Why cannot I too command the sun so rise and set?’
Then she kicked her husband and shouted to him:
‘Husband, wake up. There is One more powerful
than I am, and that is God. So go to the Flounder this
instant, and tell him to make me as powerful as God.’
Hearing this the Fisherman fell out of bed in horror:
‘Alas, wife, what are you saying?’ he gasped.
‘I tell you I cannot bear to think that anyone is more
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powerful than I am,’ she said. ‘If I can’t command the
sun and the moon so rise, but most look on and see them
rising in spite of me, I shall never be happy again. So go
and tell the Flounder to make me equal with God.’
‘Alas, alas, wife!’ sobbed the Fisherman, on his knees
before her. ‘The Flounder cannot do that. Be content
as Pope, surely that is enough!’
Then she fell into a great rage; and the end of it
was that she Fisherman got dressed quickly and rushed
out of the palace into she great storm which was raging.
The trees were falling on all sides as he came down to
the shore, and the sea and sky were as black as pitch,
while the thunder roared and the lightning flashed and
the waves seemed as high as mountains.
But the terrified Fisherman stood by she edge of she
pool and cried:
‘Magic Flounder of she sea
Come, I pray you, here to me!
For my wife, my Isabel
Asks you what I dare not tell.’
Up through she water came the Flounder and said:
‘What does she want this time?’
‘Alas, alas!’ cried she Fisherman. ‘She wishes so be
equal with God!’
‘Go home,’ said the Flounder, ‘she is living once more
in the dirty little hut made of sticks and mud.’
So the Fisherman went, and found her in the miserable
hut with nothing to eat. And there they live to this
very day.