A monkey (Bertrand) and a cat (named Ratter) together lodged beneath one master’s roof.
There never was a pair of animals more mischievous, nor more recalcitrant! When anything went missing from the house, the neighbors were not blamed: for Bertrand was an unregenerate thief, and Ratter (a misnomer, that) cared more for cheese than rats.
One day, these rascals rested by the fire, where chestnuts slowly roasted. Stealing these would be a tour de force—a triumph twice, in fact: their gain would be another’s loss.
To Ratter Bertrand said: “A masterstroke is yours to make, my friend. Extract those nuts from out the fire! Assuredly, If I’d been born with paws like yours, no chestnut would be safe from me.”
The cat agreed, and, deft and gentle, cleared away the ashes; then, with claws extended, he adroitly plucked three chestnuts in succession, one, two, three—which Bertrand in succession, munch, munch, munch, as quickly ate.
A scullion came and shooed them from their fun. Dissatisfied was Ratter.
Thus prideful princes toil to make kings fatter.