"
"Alas, wife," said the man, "what wilt thou not want? Pope thou canst
not be. There is only one pope in Christendom. That's more than the
flounder can do."
"Husband," she said, "pope I will be; so go at once. I must be pope
this very day."
"No, wife," he said, "I dare not tell him. It's no good; it's too
monstrous altogether. The flounder cannot make thee pope."
"Husband," said the woman, "don't talk nonsense. If 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 toward the south they were red and heavy, as in a
bad storm. In despair, he stood and said;
"Flounder, flounder in the sea,
Prythee, hearken unto me:
My wife, Ilsebil, will have her own way
Whatever I wish, whatever I say.
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