格林童话家庭版· Chapter 2

Chapter Chapter 2 · Cat and Mouse in Partnership

. Cat and Mouse in Partnership

A certain cat had made the acquaintance of a mouse, and had said so

much to her about the great love and friendship she felt for her, that

at length the mouse agreed that they should live and keep house

together. “But we must make a provision for winter, or else we shall

suffer from hunger,” said the cat, “and you, little mouse, cannot

venture everywhere, or you will be caught in a trap some day.” The good

advice was followed, and a pot of fat was bought, but they did not know

where to put it. At length, after much consideration, the cat said, “I

know no place where it will be better stored up than in the church, for

no one dares take anything away from there. We will set it beneath the

altar, and not touch it until we are really in need of it.” So the pot

was placed in safety, but it was not long before the cat had a great

yearning for it, and said to the mouse, “I want to tell you something,

little mouse; my cousin has brought a little son into the world, and

has asked me to be godmother; he is white with brown spots, and I am to

hold him over the font at the christening. Let me go out to-day, and

you look after the house by yourself.” “Yes, yes,” answered the mouse,

“by all means go, and if you get anything very good, think of me, I

should like a drop of sweet red christening wine too.” All this,

however, was untrue; the cat had no cousin, and had not been asked to

be godmother. She went straight to the church, stole to the pot of fat,

began to lick at it, and licked the top of the fat off. Then she took a

walk upon the roofs of the town, looked out for opportunities, and then

stretched herself in the sun, and licked her lips whenever she thought

of the pot of fat, and not until it was evening did she return home.

“Well, here you are again,” said the mouse, “no doubt you have had a

merry day.” “All went off well,” answered the cat. “What name did they

give the child?” “Top off!” said the cat quite coolly. “Top off!” cried

the mouse, “that is a very odd and uncommon name, is it a usual one in

your family?” “What does it signify,” said the cat, “it is no worse

than Crumb-stealer, as your god-children are called.”

Before long the cat was seized by another fit of longing. She said to

the mouse, “You must do me a favour, and once more manage the house for

a day alone. I am again asked to be godmother, and, as the child has a

white ring round its neck, I cannot refuse.” The good mouse consented,

but the cat crept behind the town walls to the church, and devoured

half the pot of fat. “Nothing ever seems so good as what one keeps to

oneself,” said she, and was quite satisfied with her day’s work. When

she went home the mouse inquired, “And what was this child christened?”

“Half-done,” answered the cat. “Half-done! What are you saying? I never

heard the name in my life, I’ll wager anything it is not in the

calendar!”

The cat’s mouth soon began to water for some more licking. “All good

things go in threes,” said she, “I am asked to stand godmother again.

The child is quite black, only it has white paws, but with that

exception, it has not a single white hair on its whole body; this only

happens once every few years, you will let me go, won’t you?” “Top-off!

Half-done!” answered the mouse, “they are such odd names, they make me

very thoughtful.” “You sit at home,” said the cat, “in your dark-grey

fur coat and long tail, and are filled with fancies, that’s because you

do not go out in the daytime.” During the cat’s absence the mouse

cleaned the house, and put it in order but the greedy cat entirely

emptied the pot of fat. “When everything is eaten up one has some

peace,” said she to herself, and well filled and fat she did not return

home till night. The mouse at once asked what name had been given to

the third child. “It will not please you more than the others,” said

the cat. “He is called All-gone.” “All-gone,” cried the mouse, “that is

the most suspicious name of all! I have never seen it in print.

All-gone; what can that mean?” and she shook her head, curled herself

up, and lay down to sleep.

From this time forth no one invited the cat to be god-mother, but when

the winter had come and there was no longer anything to be found

outside, the mouse thought of their provision, and said, “Come cat, we

will go to our pot of fat which we have stored up for ourselves—we

shall enjoy that.” “Yes,” answered the cat, “you will enjoy it as much

as you would enjoy sticking that dainty tongue of yours out of the

window.” They set out on their way, but when they arrived, the pot of

fat certainly was still in its place, but it was empty. “Alas!” said

the mouse, “now I see what has happened, now it comes to light! You are

a true friend! You have devoured all when you were standing godmother.

First top off, then half done, then—.” “Will you hold your tongue,”

cried the cat, “one word more and I will eat you too.” “All gone” was

already on the poor mouse’s lips; scarcely had she spoken it before the

cat sprang on her, seized her, and swallowed her down. Verily, that is

the way of the world.

3 Our Lady’s Child

Hard by a great forest dwelt a wood-cutter with his wife, who had an

only child, a little girl three years old. They were so poor, however,

that they no longer had daily bread, and did not know how to get food

for her. One morning the wood-cutter went out sorrowfully to his work

in the forest, and while he was cutting wood, suddenly there stood

before him a tall and beautiful woman with a crown of shining stars on

her head, who said to him, “I am the Virgin Mary, mother of the child

Jesus. Thou art poor and needy, bring thy child to me, I will take her

with me and be her mother, and care for her.” The wood-cutter obeyed,

brought his child, and gave her to the Virgin Mary, who took her up to

heaven with her. There the child fared well, ate sugar-cakes, and drank

sweet milk, and her clothes were of gold, and the little angels played

with her. And when she was fourteen years of age, the Virgin Mary

called her one day and said, “Dear child, I am about to make a long

journey, so take into thy keeping the keys of the thirteen doors of

heaven. Twelve of these thou mayest open, and behold the glory which is

within them, but the thirteenth, to which this little key belongs, is

forbidden thee. Beware of opening it, or thou wilt bring misery on

thyself.” The girl promised to be obedient, and when the Virgin Mary

was gone, she began to examine the dwellings of the kingdom of heaven.

Each day she opened one of them, until she had made the round of the

twelve. In each of them sat one of the Apostles in the midst of a great

light, and she rejoiced in all the magnificence and splendour, and the

little angels who always accompanied her rejoiced with her. Then the

forbidden door alone remained, and she felt a great desire to know what

could be hidden behind it, and said to the angels, “I will not quite

open it, and I will not go inside it, but I will unlock it so that we

can just see a little through the opening.” “Oh no,” said the little

angels, “that would be a sin. The Virgin Mary has forbidden it, and it

might easily cause thy unhappiness.” Then she was silent, but the

desire in her heart was not stilled, but gnawed there and tormented

her, and let her have no rest. And once when the angels had all gone

out, she thought, “Now I am quite alone, and I could peep in. If I do

it, no one will ever know.” She sought out the key, and when she had

got it in her hand, she put it in the lock, and when she had put it in,

she turned it round as well. Then the door sprang open, and she saw

there the Trinity sitting in fire and splendour. She stayed there

awhile, and looked at everything in amazement; then she touched the

light a little with her finger, and her finger became quite golden.

Immediately a great fear fell on her. She shut the door violently, and

ran away. Her terror too would not quit her, let her do what she might,

and her heart beat continually and would not be still; the gold too

stayed on her finger, and would not go away, let her rub it and wash it

never so much.

It was not long before the Virgin Mary came back from her journey. She

called the girl before her, and asked to have the keys of heaven back.

When the maiden gave her the bunch, the Virgin looked into her eyes and

said, “Hast thou not opened the thirteenth door also?” “No,” she

replied. Then she laid her hand on the girl’s heart, and felt how it

beat and beat, and saw right well that she had disobeyed her order and

had opened the door. Then she said once again, “Art thou certain that

thou hast not done it?” “Yes,” said the girl, for the second time. Then

she perceived the finger which had become golden from touching the fire

of heaven, and saw well that the child had sinned, and said for the

third time “Hast thou not done it?” “No,” said the girl for the third

time. Then said the Virgin Mary, “Thou hast not obeyed me, and besides

that thou hast lied, thou art no longer worthy to be in heaven.”

Then the girl fell into a deep sleep, and when she awoke she lay on the

earth below, and in the midst of a wilderness. She wanted to cry out,

but she could bring forth no sound. She sprang up and wanted to run

away, but whithersoever she turned herself, she was continually held

back by thick hedges of thorns through which she could not break. In

the desert, in which she was imprisoned, there stood an old hollow

tree, and this had to be her dwelling-place. Into this she crept when

night came, and here she slept. Here, too, she found a shelter from

storm and rain, but it was a miserable life, and bitterly did she weep

when she remembered how happy she had been in heaven, and how the

angels had played with her. Roots and wild berries were her only food,

and for these she sought as far as she could go. In the autumn she

picked up the fallen nuts and leaves, and carried them into the hole.

The nuts were her food in winter, and when snow and ice came, she crept

amongst the leaves like a poor little animal that she might not freeze.

Before long her clothes were all torn, and one bit of them after

another fell off her. As soon, however, as the sun shone warm again,

she went out and sat in front of the tree, and her long hair covered

her on all sides like a mantle. Thus she sat year after year, and felt

the pain and the misery of the world. One day, when the trees were once

more clothed in fresh green, the King of the country was hunting in the

forest, and followed a roe, and as it had fled into the thicket which

shut in this part of the forest, he got off his horse, tore the bushes

asunder, and cut himself a path with his sword. When he had at last

forced his way through, he saw a wonderfully beautiful maiden sitting

under the tree; and she sat there and was entirely covered with her

golden hair down to her very feet. He stood still and looked at her

full of surprise, then he spoke to her and said, “Who art thou? Why art

thou sitting here in the wilderness?” But she gave no answer, for she

could not open her mouth. The King continued, “Wilt thou go with me to

my castle?” Then she just nodded her head a little. The King took her

in his arms, carried her to his horse, and rode home with her, and when

he reached the royal castle he caused her to be dressed in beautiful

garments, and gave her all things in abundance. Although she could not

speak, she was still so beautiful and charming that he began to love

her with all his heart, and it was not long before he married her.

After a year or so had passed, the Queen brought a son into the world.

Thereupon the Virgin Mary appeared to her in the night when she lay in

her bed alone, and said, “If thou wilt tell the truth and confess that

thou didst unlock the forbidden door, I will open thy mouth and give

thee back thy speech, but if thou perseverest in thy sin, and deniest

obstinately, I will take thy new-born child away with me.” Then the

queen was permitted to answer, but she remained hard, and said, “No, I

did not open the forbidden door;” and the Virgin Mary took the new-born

child from her arms, and vanished with it. Next morning when the child

was not to be found, it was whispered among the people that the Queen

was a man-eater, and had killed her own child. She heard all this and

could say nothing to the contrary, but the King would not believe it,

for he loved her so much.

When a year had gone by the Queen again bore a son, and in the night

the Virgin Mary again came to her, and said, “If thou wilt confess that

thou openedst the forbidden door, I will give thee thy child back and

untie thy tongue; but if you continuest in sin and deniest it, I will

take away with me this new child also.” Then the Queen again said, “No,

I did not open the forbidden door;” and the Virgin took the child out

of her arms, and away with her to heaven. Next morning, when this child

also had disappeared, the people declared quite loudly that the Queen

had devoured it, and the King’s councillors demanded that she should be

brought to justice. The King, however, loved her so dearly that he

would not believe it, and commanded the councillors under pain of death

not to say any more about it.

The following year the Queen gave birth to a beautiful little daughter,

and for the third time the Virgin Mary appeared to her in the night and

said, “Follow me.” She took the Queen by the hand and led her to

heaven, and showed her there her two eldest children, who smiled at

her, and were playing with the ball of the world. When the Queen

rejoiced thereat, the Virgin Mary said, “Is thy heart not yet softened?

If thou wilt own that thou openedst the forbidden door, I will give

thee back thy two little sons.” But for the third time the Queen

answered, “No, I did not open the forbidden door.” Then the Virgin let

her sink down to earth once more, and took from her likewise her third

child.

Next morning, when the loss was reported abroad, all the people cried

loudly, “The Queen is a man-eater. She must be judged,” and the King

was no longer able to restrain his councillors. Thereupon a trial was

held, and as she could not answer, and defend herself, she was

condemned to be burnt alive. The wood was got together, and when she

was fast bound to the stake, and the fire began to burn round about

her, the hard ice of pride melted, her heart was moved by repentance,

and she thought, “If I could but confess before my death that I opened

the door.” Then her voice came back to her, and she cried out loudly,

“Yes, Mary, I did it;” and straight-way rain fell from the sky and

extinguished the flames of fire, and a light broke forth above her, and

the Virgin Mary descended with the two little sons by her side, and the

new-born daughter in her arms. She spoke kindly to her, and said, “He

who repents his sin and acknowledges it, is forgiven.” Then she gave

her the three children, untied her tongue, and granted her happiness

for her whole life.