The Fisherman and His Wife: the full story
Part One · The Enchanted Fish
Long ago, a fisherman and his wife lived in a tumbledown hut beside the sea. It was so small and so leaky that the rain dripped right onto their bed. Every day the fisherman sat on the shore with his rod and line, watching the water and waiting for a fish to bite, but they never had very much to eat.
One bright morning, his line sank deep into the clear water, and when he pulled it up, there was a great big fish on the hook. "Please let me go," said the fish, to the fisherman's great surprise, "for I am not a real fish at all. I am an enchanted prince, and I would not taste very good anyway, so put me back in the water, and let me swim away."
"Well," said the fisherman, "you need not say another word, because a fish who can talk is not a fish I want to eat." He gently slipped the enchanted fish back into the water, and it swam down, down, down to the bottom of the sea. Then the fisherman picked up his rod and went home to his wife.
"Husband," said his wife, "did you catch nothing today?" "I caught a fish," said the fisherman, "but he said he was an enchanted prince, so I let him go." "And you wished for nothing at all?" cried his wife. "Just look at this hut! It is small and damp and it leaks, so go back at once and ask him for a cozy little cottage."
Part Two · A Bigger Wish
The fisherman did not like to ask, but he liked arguing even less, so he walked back to the shore. The sea was not so clear and blue as before, for now it looked green and yellow. He stood at the water's edge and sang, "Fish, oh fish, come up to me, hear the thing I ask of thee. It is not my wish at all, it is my wife who makes the call."
The fish came swimming up and said, "Well, what does she want?" "My wife would like a cozy little cottage," said the fisherman. "Go home," said the fish, "for she has it already." And when the fisherman got home, the old hut was gone. In its place stood a pretty cottage, with a garden, a kitchen full of shiny pots, and a yard where hens and ducks pecked about.
"Come in," said his wife, standing at the door, "and see how much better this is." The fisherman was delighted. "Now we can live here and be glad," he said, and for a week or two they were. But then his wife began to look out of the window with a frown. "This cottage is too small," she said, "and our fish could have given us a great stone castle. Go and ask him for one."
"But the cottage is good enough," said the fisherman, "so why would we want a castle?" "Go," said his wife, "because the fish can do it just as easily." So the fisherman went, with a heavy heart. The sea was not green and yellow now but a deep and gloomy purple, though it was still quiet. He sang his song at the water's edge, and the fish came up.
"What does she want now?" asked the fish. "She wants a great stone castle," said the fisherman, feeling very ashamed. "Go home," said the fish, "for she is standing at the door." And there on the hill stood a castle of gray stone, with servants hurrying about, golden chairs in the great halls, and a garden full of deer and horses.
Part Three · The Dark Sea
"Now surely we can be happy," said the fisherman, but his wife told him to wait and sleep on it. The next morning she woke at dawn and shook him awake. "Husband, get up and look at all this land! We should be king over every bit of it." "But I do not want to be king," said the fisherman. "Then I will be," said his wife, "so go and tell the fish."
The sea was dark gray now, and the water bubbled and heaved while a cold wind blew across the shore. The poor fisherman sang his song, and the fish came up. "Well, what does she want?" "My wife wants to be king," said the fisherman with a sigh. "Go home," said the fish, "for she is king already."
At home there was a golden palace, with soldiers at the gates and a crowd of lords and ladies. His wife sat on a high throne with a gold crown on her head. "Wife," said the fisherman, "now that you are king, you have everything you could ever want." "Not at all," she answered. "Even a king has a ruler above him, and I want to be emperor."
"Wife, no!" said the fisherman, very frightened, "for the fish cannot make an emperor." "I am a king and you are my husband," said his wife, "so go at once!" The poor man went. Now the sea was black, the wind howled, and thunder rumbled in the sky. He sang as loudly as he could, and the fish came up and said, "She is emperor already," before he had even asked.
She sat on a throne of solid gold, as tall as a tower, with a crown as big as a cartwheel, and kings and queens stood in rows before her. But the next morning, the sun rose over the hills. "I cannot make the sun come up!" she cried. "Go and tell the fish that I must make the sun and the moon rise myself."
"Wife, not even the fish can do that," said the fisherman, trembling. "I am emperor, and you are only my husband!" she shouted. "Go this minute!" He ran to the shore, where a storm was raging. The sky was black as night, the waves were tall as houses, and lightning cracked overhead. "Fish, oh fish," he whispered, "my wife wants to make the sun and the moon rise."
"Go home," said the fish, "for she is back in her old hut." And so she was. When the fisherman got home, the palace and the throne and the golden crown were gone, and there stood the little hut with the leaky roof. The next morning, the sun rose by itself over the sea, as it always had. The fisherman and his wife watched it from the doorway, and for once, his wife did not ask for anything at all.