The Fisherman and His Wife

Once upon a time a fisherman and his wife lived by the sea in an old, tiny hut. Every day the fisherman went down to the sea and cast his line. One day he was sitting with his rod, looking into the clear water. Suddenly his line was pulled down into the depths. When he pulled it up, he brought out a big flounder.

The flounder spoke: "Listen, fisherman, I beg you, let me live. I'm not really a flounder; I'm an enchanted prince. What good would it do you to kill me? I wouldn't taste good to you. Put me back in the water and let me swim away." "I'd let a fish that can talk go anyway," said the fisherman, and he put the flounder back into the clear water. The flounder dived down into the depths, leaving a long streak of blood behind it. The fisherman got up and went home to his wife in the hut.

His wife asked: "Didn't you catch anything today?" "No," said the man. "I caught a flounder. It said it was an enchanted prince, so I let it go." "Didn't you wish for anything?" "No. What would I wish for?" "Oh," said the woman, "it's awful living in this filthy hut. It stinks; it's horrible. You could have wished for a little cottage. Go back at once and call it. Tell it we want a little cottage. It's sure to give us one."

The man did not really want to go, but he did not want to go against his wife either. He went down to the sea. The sea was no longer as clear as before; it had turned green and yellow. He stood on the shore and called: "Flounder, flounder in the sea, my wife, my wife Ilsebill, wants not what I want her to will!" The flounder came swimming up: "What does she want?" "Oh, my wife says that since I caught you, I should have wished for something. She doesn't want to live in that hut any more. She wants a little cottage." "Go home," said the flounder. "She already has it."

The man went home. His wife was no longer in the hut, but sitting on a bench in front of a little cottage. She took him by the hand and led him inside. There was a pretty little parlour, a bedroom, a pantry and a well-stocked kitchen. At the back there was a little yard with hens and ducks, and a vegetable and fruit garden. "Look," said the woman, "isn't it lovely?" "Yes," said the man. "Now we'll live happily." "We'll see," said the woman.

A week or two went by. The woman said: "Listen, husband, this cottage is far too cramped, and the yard and garden are too small. The flounder could have given us a bigger house. I want to live in a big stone castle. Go and tell the flounder to give us a castle." "Oh, wife," said the man, "this cottage is good enough. Why should we live in a castle?" "Just go," said the woman. "The flounder can do it." The man's heart was heavy, but he went. The sea had turned purple and dark, no longer green and yellow, but it was still calm. Again the man called out. The flounder came: "What does she want?" "She wants to live in a big stone castle." "Go home. She's standing in front of the door."

When the man went home, he saw a big stone castle. His wife was standing at the top of the steps. Inside there was a hall with a marble floor, servants, rooms covered with silk carpets, golden chairs and crystal chandeliers. At the back were stables, carriages and a great park. "Isn't it beautiful?" said the woman. "Yes," said the man. "Let's live happily in this castle." "We'll think about it," said the woman, and they went to bed.

The next morning the woman woke first and saw from the window the beautiful countryside stretching out before them. She nudged her husband with her elbow: "Get up, husband, look out of the window. Couldn't we be king over all this land? Go and tell the flounder we want to be king." "Oh, wife," said the man, "why should we be king? I don't want to be king." "If you don't want to, I'll be king," said the woman. The man went, and he was very unhappy. This time the sea had turned black and was churning up from the bottom, foaming and smelling foul. The man called out and told the flounder that his wife wanted to be king. "Go home," said the flounder. "She is king already."

When the man came home, the castle had grown much bigger, with towers and splendid gates. In front of the gate stood sentries, and inside were drums and trumpets, marble and gold. His wife was sitting on a high throne of gold and diamonds with a big golden crown on her head. "Wife, are you king now?" "Yes, now I am king." The man looked at her for a while: "How lovely. Now we won't wish for anything else, will we?" "No, husband," said the woman restlessly, "time is dragging, and I can't bear it any longer. I am king; now I must be emperor."

However much the man objected, it did no good, and he went down to the sea again. The sea was pitch black and thick and boiling, and such a wind was blowing that the man shuddered. He told the flounder that his wife wanted to be emperor. "Go home," said the flounder. "She is emperor already." When the man came home, he saw that the castle was made of gold, and his wife was sitting on a throne two miles high, wearing a crown three yards tall. Around her, princes, dukes and counts were kneeling.

But still the woman was not satisfied: "Husband, I'm emperor, but now I want to be pope." Again the man went; the sea was roaring, ships were tossing in the storm, there was still a little blue in the middle of the sky, but around the edges a red storm was rising. "Go home," said the flounder. "She is pope already." When the man came home, he saw his wife in a great church lit by a thousand candles, with three great crowns on her head. Emperors and kings were kneeling before her and kissing her slipper.

That night the woman did not sleep at all. She lay thinking about what more she could become. When morning came, she saw the sun rising. "Ha!" she said. "Couldn't I order the sun and moon to rise too?" She nudged her husband with her elbow: "Get up, husband, go to the flounder. I want to be like God. I want to make the sun and moon rise." The man was still half asleep and was so frightened that he fell out of bed. "Oh, wife, the flounder can't do that. It can make you emperor and pope, but it can't do that. Please, come to your senses and stay pope." The woman flew into a rage, her hair stood up on her head, and she screamed: "Go at once!"

The man pulled on his trousers and ran like a madman. Outside, such a storm was raging that he could hardly stand. Houses and trees were blown down, the mountains shook, rocks tumbled into the sea, the sky was pitch black, thunder roared and lightning flashed. The sea rose in black waves as high as church towers and mountains, with white foam on their crests. The man shouted, but he could not even hear his own voice: "Flounder, flounder in the sea, my wife wants to be like God!"

"Go home," said the flounder. "She's sitting in her old hut again."

And there they are sitting to this very day, in their old, tiny hut. The fisherman went down to the sea again and cast his line, and his wife sat at the door and watched the sea. One morning the woman said to the fisherman: "Husband, you know, this hut isn't so bad after all. We can see the sea, and we have each other." The fisherman smiled. Perhaps that was the greatest gift the flounder gave them: knowing what is enough.