Ræven og katten


The fox and the cat


Da katten en gang gik sig en tur i skoven, mødte den ræven. "Den er klog og har stor indflydelse her i verden," tænkte den og hilste venligt på den. "God morgen, hr. Ræv," sagde den, "hvordan går det? Kan I klare jer i disse dyre tider." Den hovmodige ræv betragtede katten fra top til tå og vidste først slet ikke, om den ville svare. "Din sølle, skæggede fyr," sagde den endelig, "din forsultne, brogede nar, din musejæger, hvad bilder du dig ind. Hvor tør du spørge, hvordan det går mig? Hvad har du lært? Hvad for kunster kan du gøre?" - "Jeg kan kun en eneste," svarede katten beskedent. "Hvad er det for en?" spurgte ræven. "Når hundene er efter mig kan jeg frelse mig ved at springe op i et træ." - "Er det det hele," sagde ræven, "jeg kan hundrede kunster og har desforuden en hel pose fuld af list. Men jeg har ondt af dig. Kom med mig, så skal jeg lære dig, hvordan man slipper fra hundene." I samme øjeblik kom en jæger gående med fire hunde. Katten sprang behændigt op i et træ og satte sig helt oppe i toppen, fuldstændig skjult af grene og blade. "Luk posen op, hr. Ræv, luk posen op," råbte katten, men hundene havde allerede fat i ræven og holdt fast i den. "I havde nok ikke meget gavn af jeres hundrede kunststykker," råbte katten, "hvis I havde kunnet klatre som jeg, havde I nok kunnet frelse livet."
It happened that the cat met the fox in a forest, and as she thought to herself, "He is clever and full of experience, and much esteemed in the world," she spoke to him in a friendly way. "Good-day, dear Mr. Fox, how are you? How is all with you? How are you getting through this dear season?" The fox, full of all kinds of arrogance, looked at the cat from head to foot, and for a long time did not know whether he would give any answer or not. At last he said, "Oh, thou wretched beard-cleaner, thou piebald fool, thou hungry mouse-hunter, what canst thou be thinking of? Dost thou venture to ask how I am getting on? What hast thou learnt? How many arts dost thou understand?" - "I understand but one," replied the cat, modestly. "What art is that?" asked the fox. "When the hounds are following me, I can spring into a tree and save myself." - "Is that all?" said the fox. "I am master of a hundred arts, and have into the bargain a sackful of cunning. Thou makest me sorry for thee; come with me, I will teach thee how people get away from the hounds." Just then came a hunter with four dogs. The cat sprang nimbly up a tree, and sat down on top of it, where the branches and foliage quite concealed her. "Open your sack, Mr. Fox, open your sack," cried the cat to him, but the dogs had already seized him, and were holding him fast. "Ah, Mr. Fox," cried the cat. "You with your hundred arts are left in the lurch! Had you been able to climb like me, you would not have lost your life."