The Story of the Fisherman

Sire, there was once a fisherman so old and so poor that he could barely support his wife and three children. Each day he went fishing very early, and he made a rule to cast his nets no more than four times. One morning he set out by moonlight and came to the seashore. He undressed and threw his nets, and as he pulled them toward the bank, he felt a great weight. He thought he had caught a large fish and was very pleased. But a moment later, seeing that instead of a fish he had only the carcass of an ass in his nets, he was much disappointed.

Vexed with such a bad haul, he mended his nets, which the carcass had broken in several places, and cast them a second time. When drawing them in, he again felt a great weight, so he thought they were full of fish. But he found only a large basket full of rubbish. He was much annoyed.

"O Fortune," he cried, "do not trifle with me, a poor fisherman who can hardly support his family!"

So saying, he threw away the rubbish, washed his nets clean of the dirt, and cast them for the third time. But he drew in only stones, shells, and mud. He was almost in despair.

Then he cast his nets for the fourth time. When he thought he had a fish, he pulled them in with great difficulty. There was no fish, however; instead he found a yellow pot that seemed full of something by its weight. He noticed it was fastened and sealed with lead, bearing the impression of a seal. He was delighted. "I will sell it to the founder," he said. "With the money I will buy a measure of wheat."

He examined the jar on all sides and shook it to see if it would rattle. He heard nothing, so judging from the seal and lid, he thought something precious must be inside. To find out, he took his knife and with a little effort opened the jar. He turned it upside down, but nothing came out, which surprised him greatly. He set it in front of him, and while he looked at it attentively, such a thick smoke poured out that he had to step back a pace or two. This smoke rose to the clouds and stretched over the sea and shore, forming a thick mist that astonished the fisherman. When all the smoke had left the jar, it gathered together and became a dense mass in which appeared a genie, twice as large as the largest giant. Seeing such a terrible monster, the fisherman wanted to run away, but he trembled so with fright that he could not move a step.

"Great king of the genies," cried the monster, "I will never again disobey you!"

At these words the fisherman took courage.

"What are you saying, great genie? Tell me your history and how you came to be shut up in that vase."

The genie looked at the fisherman haughtily. "Speak to me more civilly," he said, "before I kill you."

"Alas! Why should you kill me?" cried the fisherman. "I have just freed you; have you already forgotten that?"

"No," answered the genie, "but that will not stop me from killing you. I am only going to grant you one favor: to choose the manner of your death."

"But what have I done to you?" asked the fisherman.

"I cannot treat you otherwise," said the genie. "If you would know why, listen to my story. I rebelled against the king of the genies. To punish me, he shut me up in this copper vase, put his seal on the leaden cover—which is enchantment enough to prevent my coming out—and then had the vase thrown into the sea. During the first century of my captivity I vowed that if anyone freed me before a hundred years passed, I would make him rich even after his death. But that century passed, and no one freed me. In the second century I vowed I would give all the treasures in the world to my deliverer, but he never came. In the third, I promised to make him a king, to always be near him, and to grant him three wishes every day. But that century passed as the others had, and I remained in the same plight.

At last I grew angry at being captive so long, and I vowed that if anyone released me, I would kill him at once and only allow him to choose how he should die. So you see, since you have freed me today, choose how you will die."

The fisherman was very unhappy. "What an unlucky man I am to have freed you! I implore you to spare my life."

"I have told you," said the genie, "that it is impossible. Choose quickly; you are wasting time."

The fisherman began to devise a plot.

"Since I must die," he said, "before I choose the manner of my death, I conjure you on your honor to tell me if you really were in that vase."

"Yes, I was," answered the genie.

"I really cannot believe it," said the fisherman. "That vase could not contain one of your feet, much less your whole body. I cannot believe it unless I see you do it."

Then the genie began to change himself into smoke, which spread over the sea and shore as before, and then collected itself and began to go back into the vase slowly and evenly until nothing was left outside. Then a voice came from the vase, saying, "Well, unbelieving fisherman, here I am in the vase. Do you believe me now?"

The fisherman, instead of answering, took the lead lid and shut it down quickly on the vase.

"Now, O genie," he cried, "ask pardon of me, and choose by what death you will die! But no, it will be better if I throw you into the sea whence I drew you out, and I will build a house on the shore to warn fishermen who come to cast their nets here against fishing up such a wicked genie as you are, who vows to kill the man who frees you."

At these words the genie did all he could to get out, but he could not, because of the enchantment of the lid.

Then he tried to get out by cunning. "If you will take off the cover," he said, "I will repay you."

"No," answered the fisherman, "if I trust myself to you, I am afraid you will treat me as a certain Greek king treated the physician Douban. Listen, and I will tell you."