he can make an Emperor, he can make a Pope. Go immediately. I am Emperor, and thou art but my husband, and thou must obey.’
So he was frightened, and went; but he was quite dazed. He shivered and shook, and his knees trembled.
A great wind arose over the land, the clouds flew across the sky, and it grew as dark as night; the leaves fell from the trees, and the water foamed and dashed upon the shore. In the distance the ships were being tossed to and fro on the waves, and he heard them firing signals of distress. There was still a little patch of blue in the sky among the dark clouds, but towards the south they were red and heavy, as in a bad storm. In despair, he stood and said—
Prythee, hearken unto me:
My Wife, Ilsebil, must have her own will,
And sends me to beg a boon of thee.’
‘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