The Golden Fish
On the sea, on the ocean, on the island of Buyan stood a small, tumbledown hut. An old man and an old woman lived there in great poverty. The old man made a net…
On the sea, on the ocean, on the island of Buyan stood a small, tumbledown hut. An old man and an old woman lived there in great poverty. The old man made a net and began going to sea to catch fish; that was his only means of earning his daily bread. Once he cast his net and began hauling it in. It seemed heavier than ever before, and he could scarcely pull it out. He looked, and the net was empty except for one little fish. But it was no ordinary fish: it was golden. The fish pleaded with him in a human voice:
“Do not take me, old man! Let me go into the blue sea instead. I shall be of service to you myself: whatever you wish, I will do.”
The old man thought for a while and said:
“I need nothing from you. Go and swim freely in the sea!”
He threw the golden fish back into the water and returned home. His wife asked:
“Did you catch much, old man?”
“Only one golden fish, and I threw even that one back into the sea. She begged me so earnestly: ‘Let me go into the blue sea,’ she said. ‘I shall be of service to you; whatever you wish, I will do!’ I felt sorry for the fish, took no ransom from her and set her free for nothing.”
“Oh, you old devil! Such good fortune fell into your hands, and you did not know what to do with it!”
The old woman grew furious. She scolded him from morning till night and gave him no peace:
“You could at least have asked her for bread! Soon we shall not have so much as a dry crust. What will you stuff your face with then?”
The old man could bear it no longer and went to ask the golden fish for bread. He reached the sea and called loudly:
“Little fish, little fish! Turn your tail to the sea and your head to me.”
The fish swam to the shore:
“What do you need, old man?”
“My wife is angry and has sent me for bread.”
“Go home. You shall have bread in plenty.”
The old man returned:
“Well, wife, is there bread?”
“There is plenty of bread, but here is another trouble: the washing trough has split, and I have nothing to wash the linen in. Go to the golden fish and ask her for a new one.”
The old man went to the sea:
“Little fish, little fish! Turn your tail to the sea and your head to me.”
The golden fish swam up:
“What do you need, old man?”
“My wife has sent me. She asks for a new trough.”
“Very well. You shall have a trough too.”
The old man returned, and he had barely entered the door when his wife rounded on him again:
“Go to the golden fish,” she said, “and ask her to build us a new house. We cannot live in ours; it may fall down at any moment!”
The old man went to the sea:
“Little fish, little fish! Turn your tail to the sea and your head to me.”
The fish swam up, turned her head towards him and her tail towards the sea, and asked:
“What do you need, old man?”
“Build us a new house. My wife scolds me and gives me no peace. She says she will not live in the old hut: it may collapse altogether at any moment!”
“Do not fret, old man! Go home and pray to God. Everything will be done.”
The old man returned. In his yard stood a new oak house decorated with carved patterns. His wife ran out to meet him, angrier and more abusive than ever:
“Oh, you old dog! You do not know how to make use of good fortune. You have asked for a house and think your work is done, I suppose! No, go back to the golden fish and tell her: I do not want to be a peasant woman. I want to be a voivodikha, a great lady, so that people obey me and bow low whenever they meet me.”
The old man went to the sea and called loudly:
“Little fish, little fish! Turn your tail to the sea and your head to me.”
The fish swam up and turned her tail towards the sea and her head towards him:
“What do you need, old man?”
The old man answered:
“My wife gives me no peace. She has quite lost her senses: she does not want to be a peasant woman but a voivodikha.”
“Very well, do not fret! Go home and pray to God. Everything will be done.”
The old man returned. In place of the house stood a three-storey stone mansion. Servants hurried about the yard, cooks clattered in the kitchen, and his wife sat in a high chair wearing an expensive brocade dress and giving orders.
“Good day, wife!” said the old man.
“You ill-mannered fellow! How dare you call me, a voivodikha, your wife? Ho, servants! Take this wretched peasant to the stable and whip him as painfully as you can.”
The servants ran up at once, seized the old man by the collar and dragged him to the stable. The grooms treated him to their whips so thoroughly that he could scarcely get to his feet. Afterwards his wife made him the yard sweeper. She ordered that he be given a broom to keep the yard clean and his food and drink in the kitchen. It was a miserable life: sweeping all day, and if even one spot was dirty, straight to the stable!
“What a witch!” thought the old man. “Good fortune came her way, and she wallows in it like a pig. She no longer even counts me as her husband!”
Some time passed, whether long or short. The old woman grew tired of being a voivodikha, summoned the old man and ordered:
“Go to the golden fish, you old devil, and tell her: I do not want to be a voivodikha. I want to be a tsarina.”
The old man went to the sea:
“Little fish, little fish! Turn your tail to the sea and your head to me.”
The golden fish swam up:
“What do you need, old man?”
“Well, my wife has lost her senses worse than ever. She no longer wants to be a voivodikha; she wants to be a tsarina.”
“Do not fret! Go home and pray to God. Everything will be done.”
The old man returned. In place of the former house stood a lofty palace with a golden roof. Sentries marched around it, flourishing their rifles. Behind it stretched a great garden, and directly in front lay a green meadow where troops had assembled. His wife, dressed as a tsarina, came out onto the balcony with generals and boyars and began reviewing and parading the troops. Drums beat, music thundered, and the soldiers shouted, “Hurrah!”
Some time passed, whether long or short. The old woman grew tired of being a tsarina and ordered that the old man be found and brought before her radiant eyes. There was a commotion: generals bustled and boyars ran about.
“What old man is this?”
At last they found him in the back yard and led him to the tsarina.
“Listen, you old devil!” she said. “Go to the golden fish and tell her: I do not want to be a tsarina. I want to be mistress of the sea, so that all the seas and all the fish obey me.”
The old man tried to refuse, but it was no use: if he would not go, off with his head! Heavy-hearted, he went to the sea, stood there and said:
“Little fish, little fish! Turn your tail to the sea and your head to me.”
There was no sign of the golden fish. He called a second time, and still she did not come. He called a third time, and suddenly the sea roared and heaved. It had been bright and clear, but now it turned quite black. The fish swam to the shore:
“What do you need, old man?”
“My wife has lost her senses still more. She no longer wants to be a tsarina; she wants to be mistress of the sea, to rule all the waters and command all the fish.”
The golden fish said nothing to the old man. She turned and vanished into the depths of the sea. He went home, looked and could scarcely believe his eyes: the palace was gone as though it had never been, and in its place stood a small, tumbledown hut. Inside sat his wife in a ragged sarafan. They began living as before, and the old man returned to fishing. But however often he cast his nets into the sea, he never caught the golden fish again.