‘What does she want now?’ said the Flounder.
‘Alas, Flounder,’ he said, ‘my Wife wants to be Emperor.’
‘Go back,’ said the Flounder. ‘She is Emperor.’
So the man went back, and when he got to the door, he found that the whole palace was made of polished marble, with alabaster figures and golden decorations. Soldiers marched up and down before the doors, blowing their trumpets and beating their drums. Inside the palace, counts, barons, and dukes walked about as attendants, and they opened to him the doors, which were of pure gold.
He went in, and saw his Wife sitting on a huge throne made of solid gold. It was at least two miles high. She had on her head a great golden crown set with diamonds three yards high. In one hand she held the sceptre, and in the other the orb of empire. On each side of her stood the gentlemen-at-arms in two rows, each one a little smaller than the other, from giants two miles high down to the tiniest dwarf no bigger than my little finger. She was surrounded by princes and dukes.
Her husband stood still, and said: ‘Wife, art thou now Emperor?’
‘Yes,’ said she; ‘now I am Emperor.’
Then he looked at her for some time, and said: ‘Alas, Wife, how much better off art thou for being Emperor?’
‘Husband,’ she said, ‘what art thou standing there for? Now I am Emperor, I mean to be Pope! Go back to the Flounder.’
‘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
