Part 7 (1/2)
”Yes,” said she, ”I am king.”
When he had looked at her for a long time, he said--
”Ah! wife, what a fine thing it is to be king! now we shall never have anything more to wish for.”
”I don't know how that may be,” said she. ”Never is a long time. I am king, 'tis true; but I begin to be tired of it, and I think I should like to be emperor.”
”Alas! wife, why should you wish to be emperor?” said the fisherman.
”Husband,” said she, ”go to the fish. I say I will be emperor.”
”Ah! wife,” replied the fisherman, ”the fish cannot make an emperor; and I should not like to ask for such a thing.”
”I am king,” said Alice; ”and you are my slave, so go directly.”
So the fisherman was obliged to go, and he muttered as he went along--
”This will come to no good. It is too much to ask. The fish will be tired at last, and then we shall repent of what we have done.”
He soon arrived at the sea, and the water was quite black and muddy, and a mighty whirlwind blew over it; but he went to the sh.o.r.e, and repeated the words he had used before.
”What would she have now?” inquired the fish.
”She wants to be emperor,” replied the fisherman.
”Go home,” said the fish, ”she is emperor already.”
So he went home again, and as he came near, he saw his wife sitting on a very lofty throne made of solid gold, with a crown on her head, full two yards high; and on each side of her stood her guards and attendants in a row, ranged according to height, from the tallest giant to a little dwarf, no bigger than one's finger. And before her stood princes, and dukes, and earls; and the fisherman went up to her, and said--
”Wife, are you emperor?”
”Yes,” said she, ”I am emperor.”
”Ah!” said the man, as he gazed on her, ”what a fine thing it is to be emperor!”
”Husband,” said she, ”why should we stay at being emperor? We will be pope next.”
”O wife, wife!” said he. ”How can you be pope? There is but one pope at a time in Christendom.”
”Husband,” said she, ”I will be pope this very day.”
”But,” replied the husband, ”the fish cannot make you pope.”
”What nonsense!” said she. ”If he can make an emperor, he can make a pope; go and try him.”
So the fisherman went; but when he came to the sh.o.r.e the wind was raging, the sea was tossed up and down like boiling water, and the s.h.i.+ps were in the greatest distress and danced upon the waves most fearfully. In the middle of the sky there was a little blue; but towards the south it was all red, as if a dreadful storm was rising.
The fisherman repeated the words, and the fish appeared before him.