The Fisherman and His Wife

A Grimm tale, widely told. I’m pretty sure I heard Irish storyteller Eddie Lenihan telling it (it can also be found on his Storytelling 1 & 2 CD collection).

The first time I told it, I settled on the following verse to summon the fish:

Little fish, little fish,
Who I saved from the dish,
Little fish, little fish,
Please grant me a wish.

In German Popular Stories, 1823

https://archive.org/details/german-popular-stories-volume-1-1823/page/26/mode/2up German Popular Stories, translated form the Kinder und Haus Märchen

Transl. Edgar Taylor and David Jardine, illus. George Cruikshank

Publication date 1823

(A second volume appeared in 1826 - volume 2, transl. Edgar Taylor.)

pp.27-38

THE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE.

There was once a fisherman who lived with his wife in a ditch, close by the sea-side. The fisherman used to go out all day long a-fishing; and one day, as he sat on the shore with his rod, looking at the shining water and watching his line, all-on a sudden his float was dragged away deep under the sea: and in drawing it up he pulled a great fish out of the water. The fish said to him, “Pray let me live: I am nota real fish; I am an enchanted prince, put me in the water again, and let me go.” “Oh!” said the man, “you need not make so many words about the matter; I wish to have nothing to do with a fish that can talk; so swim away as soon as you please.” “Then he put him back into the water, and the fish darted straight down to the bottom, and left a long streak of blood behind him.

When the fisherman went home to his wife in the ditch, he told her how he had caught a great fish, and how it had told him it was an enchanted prince, and that on hearing it speak he had let it go again. “Did you not ask it for any thing?” said the wife. “No,” said the man, what should I ask for?” “Ah!” said the wife, “we live very wretchedly here in this nasty stinking ditch; do go back, and tell the fish we want a little cottage.”

The fisherman did not much like the business: however, he went to the sea, and when he came there the water looked all yellow and green. And he stood at the water’s edge, and said,

“O man of the sea!
Come listen to me.
For Alice my wife,
The plague of my life,
Hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!”

Then the fish came swimming to him, and said, “Well, what does she want?” “Ah!” answered the fisherman, “my wife says that when I had caught you, I ought to have asked you for something before I let you go again; she does not like living any longer in the ditch, and wants a little cottage.” “Go home, then,” said the fish, “she is in the cottage already.” So the man went home, and saw his wife standing at the door of a cottage. “Come in, come in,” said she; “is not this much better than the ditch?” And there was a parlour, and a bed-chamber, and a kitchen; and behind the cottage there was a little garden with all sorts of flowers and: fruits, and a court-yard full of ducks and chickens. “Ah!” said the fisherman, “how happily we shall live!” “We will try to do so at least,” said his wife.

Every thing went right for a week or two, and then Dame Alice said, “Husband, there is not room enough in this cottage, the court-yard and garden are a great deal too small; I should like to have a large stone castle to live m; so go to the fish again, and tell him to give us a. castle.” “Wife,” said the fisherman, “I don’t like to go to him again, for perhaps he will be angry; we ought to be content with the cottage.” “Nonsense!” said the wife; “he swill do it very willingly; go along, and try.”

The fisherman went; but his heart was very heavy: and when he came to the sea, it looked blue and gloomy, though it was quite calm, and he went close to it, and said,

“O man of the sea!
Come listen to me,
For Alice my wife,
The plague of my life,
Hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!”

“Well, what does she want now?” said the fish. “Ah!” said the man very sorrowfully, my wife wants to live in a stone castle.” “Go home then,” said the fish, “she is standing at the door of it already.” So away went the fisherman, and found his wife standing before a great castle. “See,” said she, “is not this grand?” With that they went into the castle together, and found a great many servants there, and the rooms all richly furnished and full of golden chairs and tables; and behind the castle was a garden, and a wood half a mile long, full of sheep, and goats, and hares, and deer; and in the court-yard were stables and cow-houses. “Well!” said the man, “now will we live contented and happy in this beautiful castle for the rest of our lives.” “Perhaps we may,” said the wife; “but let us consider and sleep upon it before we make up our minds:” so they went to bed.

The next morning, when Dame Alice awoke, it was broad day-light, and she jogged the fisherman with her elbow, and said, “Get up, husband, and bestir yourself, for we must be king of all the land.” “Wife, wife,” said the man, “why should we wish to be king? I will not be king.” “Then I will,” said Alice.

“But, wife,” answered the fisherman, “how can you be king? the fish cannot make you a king.” “Husband,” said she, “say no more about it, but go and try; I will be king!” So the man went away, quite sorrowful to think that his wife should want to be king. The sea looked a dark grey colour, and was covered with foam as he cried out,

“O man of the sea!
Come listen to me,
For Alice my wife,
The plague of my life,
Hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!”

“Well, what would she have now?” said the fish. “Alas!” said the man, “my wife wants to be king.” “Go home,” said the fish; “she is king already.”

Then the fisherman went home; and as he came close to the palace, he saw a troop of soldiers, and heard the sound of drums and trumpets; and when he entered in, he saw his wife sitting on a high throne of gold and diamonds, with a golden crown upon her head; and on each side of her stood six beautiful maidens, each a head taller than the other.

“Well, wife,” said the fisherman, “are you king?” “Yes,” said she, “I am king.” And when he had looked at her for a long time, he said, “Ah, wife! what a fine thing it is to be king! now we shall never have any thing more to wish for.” “I don’t know how that may be,” said she; “never is a long time. I am king, ‘tis true, but I begin “to be tired of it, and I think I should like to be emperor.” “Alas, wife! why should you wish to be emperor?” said the fisherman. “Husband,” said she, “go to the fish; I say I will be emperor.” “Ah, wife!” replied the fisherman, “the fish cannot make an emperor, and I should not like to ask for such a thing.” “I am king,” said Alice, and you are my slave, so go directly!” So the fisherman was obliged to go; and he muttered as he went along, “This will come to no good, it is too much to ask, the fish will be tired at last, and then we shall repent of what we have done.” He soon arrived at the sea, and the water was quite black and muddy, and a mighty whirlwind blew over it; but he went to the shore and said,

“O man of the sea!
Come listen to me,
For Alice my wife,
The plague of my life,
Hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!”

“What would she have now?” said the fish, “Ah!” said the fisherman, “she wants to be emperor.” “Go home,” said the fish; “she is emperor already.” Go he went home again; and as he came near he saw his wife sitting on a very lofty throne made of solid gold, with s great crown on her head full two yards high, and on each side of her stood her guards and attendants in a row, each one smaller than the other, from the tallest giant down to a little dwarf no bigger than my finger. And before her stood princes, and dukes, and earls: and the fisherman went up to her and said, “Wife, are you emperor?” “Yes,” said she, “I am emperor.” “Ah!” said the man as he gazed upon her, “what a fine thing it is to be emperor!” “Husband,” said she, “why should we stay at being emperor? I will be pope next.” “Oh wife, wife!” said he, “how can you be pope? there is but one pope at a time in Christendom.” “Husband,” said she, “I will be pope this very day.” “But,” replied the husband, “the fish cannot make you pope.” “What nonsense!” said she, “if he can make an emperor, he can make a pope; go and try him.” So the fisherman went. But when he came to the shore the wind was raging, and the sea was tossed up and down like boiling water, and the ships were in the greatest distress and danced upon the waves most fearfully; in the middle of the sky there was a little blue, but towards the south it was all red as if a dreadful storm was rising. At this the fisherman was terribly frightened and trembled, so that his knees knocked together: but he went to the shore and said,

“O man of the sea!
Come listen to me,
For Alice my wife,
The plague of my life,
Hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!”

“What does she want now?” said the fish. “Ah!” said the fisherman, “my wife wants to be pope.” “Go home,” said the fish, “she is pope already.”

Then the fisherman went home; and found his wife sitting on a throne that was two miles high; and she had three great crowns on her head, and around stood all the pomp and power of the church; and on each side were two rows of burning lights, of all sizes, the greatest as large as the highest and biggest tower in the world, and the least no larger than a small rushlight. “Wife,” said the fisherman as he looked at all this grandeur, “are you pope?” “Yes,” said she, “I am pope.” “Well, wife,” replied he, “it is a grand thing to be pope; and now you must be content, for you can be nothing greater.” “I will consider of that,” said the wife. “Then. they went to bed: but Dame Alice could not sleep all night for thinking what she should be next. At last morning came, and the sun rose. “Ha!” thought she as she looked at it through the window, “cannot I prevent the sun rising?” At this she was very angry, and wakened her husband, and said; “Husband, go to the fish and tell him I want to be Lord of the sun and moon.” The fisherman was half asleep, but the thought frightened him so much, that he started and fell out of bed. “Alas, wife!” said he, “cannot you be content to be pope?” “No,” said she, “I am very uneasy, and cannot bear to see the sun and moon rise without my leave. Go to the fish directly.”

Then the man went trembling for fear; and as he was going down to the shore a dreadful storm arose, so that the trees and the rocks shook; and the heavens became black, and the lightning played, and the thunder rolled; and you might have seen in the sea great black waves like mountains with a white crown of foam upon them; and the fisherman said,

“O man of the sea!
Come listen to me,
For Alice my wife,
The plague of my life,
Hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!”

“What does she want now?” said the fish. “Ah!” said he, “she wants to be lord of sun and moon.” “Go home,” said the fish, “to your ditch again!” And there they live to this very day.

Notes, p. 221:

The Fisherman and his Wife, p. 27.—“De Fischer un siine Fru,” a story in the Pomeranian Low German dialect, admirably adapted to this species of narrative, and particularly pleasing to an English ear, as bearing a remarkable affinity to his own language, or rather that of the Lowland Scotch. Take the second sentence as a specimen: “Daar satt he eens an de see, bi de angel, un sach in dat blanke water, un he sach immer (ever) na de angel,” &c. During the fervour of popular feeling on the downfall of the power of the late Emperor of France, this tale became a great favourite. In the original the last object of the wife’s desires is to be as “de lewe Gott” (der liebe Gott, le bon Dieu). We have softened the boldness of the lady’s ambition.

In Folk-lore and legends, Russian and Polish, 1890

https://archive.org/details/folklorelegendsr00londiala/page/34/mode/2up? Folk-lore and legends, Russian and Polish Publication date 1890

pp.35-41

THE OLD MAN, HIS WIFE, AND THE FISH.

There once lived in a hut on the shores of the Isle of Buyan an old man and his wife. They were very poor. The old man used to go to the sea daily to fish, and they only just managed to live on what he caught. One day he let down his net and drew it in. It seemed to be very heavy. He dragged and dragged, and at last got it to shore. There he found that he had caught one little fish of a kind he had never before seen — a golden fish.

The fish spoke to him in a man’s voice. “Do not keep me, old man,” it said; “let me go once more free in the sea and I will reward you for it, for whatever you wish I will do.”

The old man thought for a while. Then he said, “Well, I don’t want you. Go into the sea again,” and he threw the fish into the water and went home.

“Well,” said his wife, when he got home, “ what have you caught to-day?”

“Only one little fish,” said the man, “a golden fish, and that I let go again, it begged so hard. ‘Put me in the blue sea again,’ it said, ‘and I will reward you, for whatever you wish I will do.’ So I let it go, and did not ask anything.”

“Ah, you old fool!” said the wife in a great rage, “what an opportunity you have lost. You might, at least, have asked the fish to give us some bread. We have scarce a crust in the house.”

The old woman grumbled so much that her husband could have no quiet, so to please her off he went to the seashore, and there he cried out —

“Little fish, little fish, come now to me, Your tail in the water, your head out of sea!”

The fish came to the shore.

“Well, what do you want, old man?” it asked.

“My wife,” said the man, “is in a great passion, and has sent me to ask for bread.”

“Very well,” said the fish, “go home and you shall have it.”

The old man went back, and when he entered the hut he found bread in plenty.

“Well,” said he to his wife, “we have enough bread now.”

“Oh yes!” said she, “but I have had such a misfortune while you were away. I have broken the bucket. What shall I do the washing in now? Go to the fish, and ask it to give us a new bucket.”

Away went the man. Standing on the shore he called out —

“Little fish, little fish, come now to me,
Your tail in the water, your head out of sea!”

The fish soon made its appearance.

“Well, old man,” it said, “ what do you want?”

“My wife,” said the man, “has had a misfortune, and has broken our bucket. So I have come to ask for a new one.”

“Very well,” said the fish, “you shall find one at home.”

The old man went back. As soon as he got home his wife said to him —

“Be off to the golden fish again, and ask it to give us a new hut. Ours is all coming to pieces. We have scarcely a roof over our heads.”

The old man once more came to the shore, and cried —

“Little fish, little fish, come now to me,
Your tail in the water, your head out of sea!”

The fish came.

“Well, what is it?” asked the fish.

“My wife,” said the man, “is in a very bad temper, and has sent me to ask you to build us a new cottage. She says she cannot live any longer in our present one.”

“Oh, do not be troubled about that,” said the fish. “ Go home. You shall have what you want.”

The old man went back again, and in the place of his miserable hovel he found a new hut built of oak and nicely ornamented. The old man was delighted, but as soon as he went in his wife set on him, saying —

“What an idiot you are You do not know how to take good fortune when it is offered to you. You think you have done a great thing just because you have got a new hut. Be off again to the golden fish, and tell it I will not be a mere peasant’s wife any longer, I will be an Archduchess, with plenty of servants, and set the fashion.”

The old man went to the golden fish.

“What is it?” asked the fish.

“My wife will not let me rest,” replied the man; “she wants now to be an Archduchess, and is not content with being my wife.”

“Well, it shall be as she wishes. Go home again,” said the fish.

Away went the man. How astonished was he, when, on coming to where his house had stood, he now found a fine mansion, three stories high. Servants crowded the hall, and cooks were busy in the kitchens. On a seat in a fine room sat the man’s wife, dressed in robes shining with gold and silver, and giving orders.

“Good day, wife!” said the man.

“Who are you, man?” said his wife. “What have you to do with me, a fine lady? Take the clown away,” said she to her servants. “Take him to the stable, and whip some of the impudence out of him.”

The servants seized the old man, took him off to the stable, and when they had him there beat him so that he hardly knew whether he was alive or not. After that the wife made him the door-keeper of the house. She gave him a besom, and put him to keep the yard in order. As for his meals, he got them in the kitchen. He had a hard life of it. If the yard was not swept clean, he had to look out.

“Who would have thought she had been such a hag?” said the old man to himself. “Here she has all such good fortune, and will not even own me for her husband!”

After a time the wife got tired of being merely an Archduchess, so she said to her husband —

“Go off to the golden fish, and tell it I will be a Czarina.”

The old man went down to the shore. He cried —

“Little fish, little fish, come now to me,
Your tail in the water, your head out of sea!”

The fish came swimming to the shore.

“Well, old man!” it said, “what do you want?”

“My wife is not yet satisfied,” said the man; “she wants now to be a Czarina.”

“Do not let that trouble you,” said the fish, “but go to your house. What you ask shall be done.”

The man went back. In place of the fine house he found a palace with a roof of gold. Soldiers were on guard around it. In front of the palace was a garden, and at the back a fine park, in which some troops were parading. On a balcony stood the Czarina surrounded by officers and nobles. The troops presented arms, the drums beat, the trumpets blew, and the people shouted.

In a short time the woman got tired of being Czarina, and she commanded that her husband should be found and brought to her presence. The palace was all in confusion, for who knew what had become of the old man? Officers and noblemen hurried here and there to search for him. At length he was found in a hut behind the palace.

“Listen, you old idiot!” said his wife. “Go to the golden fish, and tell it that I am tired of being Czarina. I want to rule over all the ocean, to have dominion over every sea and all the fish.”

The old man hesitated to go to the fish with such a request.

“Be off!” said his wife, “or your head shall be cut off.”

The man went to the seashore and said —

“Little fish, little fish, come now to me,
Your tail in the water, your head out of sea!”

The fish did not come. The man waited, but it was not to be seen. Then he said the words a second time. The waves roared. A short while before it had been bright and calm, now dark clouds covered the sky, the wind howled, and the water seemed of an inky blackness.

At length the fish came.

“What do you want, old man?” it asked.

“My old wife,” answered he, “is not satisfied even now. She says she will be Czarina no longer, but will rule over all the waters and all the fish.”

The fish made no reply, but dived down and disappeared in the sea.

The man went back. What had become of the palace? He looked around, but could not see it. He rubbed his eyes in wonder. On the spot where the palace had stood was the old hut, and at the door stood the old woman in her old rags.

So they commenced to live again in their old style. The man often went a-fishing, but he never more caught the golden fish.

Several variants of the tale can be found in the Irish Schools collection (example 1, example 2, example 3, example 4, example 5).

A Scottish version also exists on the Tobar an Dualchais website, collected from Stanley Robertson, in Aberdeen, in 1979: A woman was granted her wishes but ended up where she started as a result of her discontent., a story that he called ‘The Owld Wuman that Lived in a Vinegar Bottle’, which he learned from his mother.