Whatever I wish, whatever I say.”
“Now, what does she want?” said the flounder.
“Alas,” said the man, “she wants to be pope.”
“Go back. Pope she is,” said the flounder.
So back he went, and he found a great church, surrounded with palaces. He pressed through the crowd, and inside he found thousands and thousands of lights, and his wife, entirely clad in gold, was sitting on a still higher throne, with three golden crowns upon her head, and she was surrounded with priestly state. On each side of her were two rows of candles, the biggest as thick as a tower, down to the tiniest little taper. Kings and emperors were on their knees before her, kissing her shoe.
“Wife,” said the man, looking at her, “art thou now pope?”
“Yes,” said she; “now I am pope.”
So there he stood gazing at her, and it was like looking at a shining sun.
“Alas, wife,” he said, “art thou better off for being pope?” At first she sat as stiff as a post, without stirring. Then he said: “Now, wife, be content with being pope; higher thou canst not go.”
“I will think about that,” said the woman, and with that they both went to bed. Still she was not content, and could not sleep for her inordinate desires. The man slept well and soundly, for he had walked about a great deal in the day; but his wife could think of nothing but what further grandeur she could demand. When the dawn reddened the sky, she raised herself up in bed and looked out of the window, and when she saw the sun rise she said: