"Oh, wife!" said the man. "What do you not want? There is only one pope in all Christendom. He cannot make you pope."

　　"Husband," she said, "I want to become pope. Go there immediately. I must become pope this very day."

　　"No, wife," he said, "I cannot tell him that. It will come to no good. That is too much. the flounder cannot make you pope."

　　"Husband, what nonsense!" said the woman. "If he can make me emperor, then he can make me pope as well. Go there immediately. I am emperor, and you are my husband. Are you going?"

　　then the frightened man went. He felt sick all over, and his knees and legs were shaking, and the wind was blowing over the land, and clouds flew by as the darkness of evening fell. Leaves blew from the trees, and the water roared and boiled as it crashed onto the shore. In the distance he could see ships, shooting distress signals as they tossed and turned on the waves. There was a little blue in the middle of the sky, but on all sides it had turned red, as in a terrible lightning storm. Full of despair he stood there and said:

　　Mandje! Mandje! Timpe Te! Flounder, flounder, in the sea! My wife, my wife Ilsebill, Wants not, wants not, what I will

　　"What does she want then?" said the flounder.

　　"Oh," said the man, "she wants to become pope."

　　"Go home," said the flounder. "She is already pope."

　　then he went home, and when he arrived there, there was a large church surrounded by nothing but palaces. He forced his way through the crowd. Inside everything was illuminated with thousands and thousands of lights, and his wife was clothed in pure gold and sitting on a much higher throne. She was wearing three large golden crowns. She was surrounded with church-like splendor, and at her sides there were two banks of candles. The largest was as thick and as tall as the largest tower, down to the smallest kitchen candle. And all the emperors and kings were kneeling before her kissing her slipper.

　　"Wife," said the man, giving her a good look, "are you pope now?"

　　"Yes," she said, "I am pope."

　　then he stood there looking at her, and it was as if he were looking into the bright sun. After he had looked at her for a while he said, "Wife, It is good that you are pope!"

　　She stood there as stiff as a tree, neither stirring nor moving.

　　then he said, "Wife, be satisfied now that you are pope. There is nothing else that you can become."

　　"I have to think about that," said the woman.

　　then they both went to bed, but she was not satisfied. Her desires would not let her sleep. She kept thinking what she wanted to become next.

　　the man slept well and soundly, for he had run about a lot during the day, but the woman could not sleep at all, but tossed and turned from one side to the other all night long, always thinking about what she could become, but she could not think of anything.

　　then the sun was about to rise, and when she saw the early light of dawn she sat up in bed and watched through the window as the sun came up.

　　"Aha," she thought. "Could not I cause the sun and the moon to rise?"

　　"Husband," she said, poking him in the ribs with her elbow, "wake up and go back to the flounder. I want to become like God."

　　the man, who was still mostly asleep, was so startled that he fell out of bed. He thought that he had misunderstood her, so, rubbing his eyes, he said, "Wife, what did you say?"

　　"Husband," she said, "I cannot stand it when I see the sun and the moon rising, and I cannot cause them to do so. I will not have a single hour of peace until I myself can cause them to rise."

　　She looked at him so gruesomely that he shuddered.

　　"Go there immediately. I want to become like God."

　　"Oh, wife," said the man, falling on his knees before her, "the flounder cannot do that. He can make you emperor and pope, but I beg you, be satisfied and remain pope."

　　Anger fell over her. Her hair flew wildly about her head. Tearing open her bodice she kicked him with her foot and shouted, "I cannot stand it! I cannot stand it any longer! Go there immediately!"

　　He put on his trousers and ran off like a madman.

　　Outside such a storm was raging that he could hardly stand on his feet. Houses and trees were blowing over. the mountains were shaking, and boulders were rolling from the cliffs into the sea. The sky was as black as pitch. There was thunder and lightning. In the sea there were GREat black waves as high as church towers and mountains, all capped with crowns of white foam.

　　Mandje! Mandje! Timpe Te! Flounder, flounder, in the sea! My wife, my wife Ilsebill, Wants not, wants not, what I will

　　"What does she want then?" said the flounder.

　　"Oh," he said, "she wants to become like God."

　　"Go home. She is sitting in her filthy shack again."

　　And they are sitting there even today.