• The Fisherman and His Greedy Wife

Greed destroys what you gain

Once upon a time, by the edge of the sea, there lived a poor fisherman and his wife. They had very little and dwelled in a small, filthy pigsty. Though life was hard, the fisherman spent his days casting his line into the sea, hoping for a good catch, while his wife, Dame Isabelle, often complained about their miserable life.

One day, as the fisherman sat quietly on the shore watching the waves sparkle under the sun, his fishing line suddenly jerked hard and was pulled deep into the water. With effort, he reeled it in and was surprised to find a large fish on the hook.

But before he could do anything, the fish spoke.

"Please, kind fisherman, let me live. I am not just any fish—I am an enchanted prince. Throw me back into the sea and let me go free."

The fisherman, though startled, was kindhearted and said, “If you can talk, then you’re no ordinary fish. Swim away, friend, as fast as you can.”

He tossed the fish back into the sea, and it vanished with a flash beneath the waves, leaving behind a red streak on the surface.

That evening, the fisherman told his wife about the talking fish and how he had let it go. Dame Isabelle was furious.

“You caught a magical fish and asked for nothing in return? Look at how we live—in a pigsty! Go back and ask the fish to give us a little cottage!”

Though hesitant, the fisherman did as she said. When he reached the sea, the water had turned yellow and green. He stood at the edge and called out:

“Oh man of the sea,
Hear me!
My wife Isabelle has her own will,
And sent me to ask a favor of thee.”

The fish swam up and asked what the wife wanted.

“She wants a cozy cottage,” said the fisherman.

“Go home,” said the fish. “She has it already.”

The fisherman returned to find a charming little cottage in place of the pigsty. It had a tidy garden, a kitchen, a parlor, a bedroom, and even a backyard with ducks and chickens.

They lived happily—for a while. Then, one morning, Dame Isabelle frowned and said, “This cottage is too small. I want a grand stone castle. Go to the fish.”

The fisherman didn’t want to bother the fish again, but she insisted. So he went back. The sea had turned a deep, moody blue. Once more he called:

“Oh man of the sea,
Hear me!
My wife Isabelle has her own will,
And sent me to ask a favor of thee.”

When the fish appeared and asked what she wanted, the man said, “She wants a stone castle.”

“Go home,” the fish said. “She’s already at the gate.”

The fisherman rushed home and saw a mighty castle. Inside were glittering golden chairs, fine rooms, and many servants. Outside were gardens, parks, and animals of all kinds.

For a time, they lived in luxury. But soon Isabelle wanted more. “I want to be king,” she declared.

“But why?” asked the fisherman. “A castle is enough!”

“Go to the fish,” she demanded. “I will be king!”

The fisherman, now deeply troubled, went back. The sea was dark gray and restless. Once again he called:

“Oh man of the sea,
Hear me!
My wife Isabelle has her own will,
And sent me to ask a favor of thee.”

“She wants to be king,” he told the fish.

“Go home,” said the fish. “She is king already.”

The fisherman returned to find soldiers, trumpets, and his wife sitting on a golden throne, wearing a crown, surrounded by maidens.

Yet, even this was not enough.

“I’m tired of being king,” Isabelle said one morning. “I shall be emperor now.”

“Emperor?” cried the fisherman. “That’s too much!”

“Go to the fish!” she snapped.

So again, he went. The sea had turned black, and strong winds howled. He called:

“Oh man of the sea,
Hear me!
My wife Isabelle has her own will,
And sent me to ask a favor of thee.”

“She wants to be emperor,” he said.

“Go home,” the fish replied. “She is emperor already.”

Now she sat on a throne of solid gold, higher than ever, with guards, nobles, and rows of attendants of all sizes.

But even as emperor, Isabelle was not satisfied.

“I shall be pope next,” she said.

“Pope? But there’s only one pope!” the fisherman pleaded. “That’s not something the fish can grant.”

“Go,” she ordered. “I will be pope!”

The fisherman went, trembling. The sea now boiled with stormy waves, and thunder cracked through the sky. He called:

“Oh man of the sea,
Hear me!
My wife Isabelle has her own will,
And sent me to ask a favor of thee.”

“She wants to be pope,” he said.

“Go home,” replied the fish. “She is pope already.”

Now Isabelle sat on a throne two miles high, wearing three great crowns. She ruled with the power of the Church, surrounded by lights like towers and flames like stars.

“Surely now you’re satisfied?” the fisherman asked.

“We’ll see,” she replied.

That night she couldn’t sleep. As dawn broke and the sun rose, she stared at the light and growled, “Why can I not stop the sun from rising? I must be the ruler of the sun and moon!”

Her husband was horrified. “This is madness!”

But she shouted, “Go to the fish! I must be lord of the sun and moon!”

So the poor man went again. This time the storm was the worst of all. Lightning flashed, waves rose like mountains, and the sky was black as night.

He called out, barely able to stand:

“Oh man of the sea,
Hear me!
My wife Isabelle has her own will,
And sent me to ask a favor of thee.”

“What does she want now?” asked the fish.

“She wants to be lord of the sun and moon.”

“Go home,” said the fish. “She is back in the pigsty.”

And so it was. When the fisherman returned, the grand palace was gone, the throne had vanished, and Dame Isabelle was back in the wretched pigsty where it all began.

Greed had taken her higher and higher, but in the end, it brought her crashing down. And there they live to this very day—a fisherman and his wife, once offered a miracle, but undone by never knowing when to say, enough.