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"Who are you, vassal?" said he in Phoenician. They continued their conversation in Irish. "What sign shall I show the others that will make them know you are the King of the Cats?" said Quick-to-Grab. The King of the Cats chased up the tree and pulled down heavy branches. "There is a sign of my royal prowess," said he. "It's a good sign," said Quick-to-Grab.
Is he bringing wars and rebellions into the country?" "Wars and rebellions, no, ma'am," said Quick-to-Grab, "but deliverance from oppression. Why are the cats of the country lean and lazy and covered with ashes? It is because the cat that goes outside the house in the sunlight, to hunt or to play, is made to suffer with the loss of an eye."
"And who makes them suffer with the loss of an eye?" said the woman. "One whose reign is nearly over now," said Quick-to-Grab. "But tell me where you saw His Majesty?" "No," said the man. "No," said the woman, "for we don't like your impertinence. Back with you to the hearthstone, and watch the mouse-hole for us." Quick-to-Grab walked straight out of the door.
"I shall use my best diplomacy to safeguard your comfort and dignity," said Quick-to-Grab, "please invest me as your Prime Minister." The King of the Cats invested Quick-to-Grab by biting the fur round his neck. Then the King and his Prime Minister parted. The King of the Cats took up quarters for a day or two in a round tower. Quick-to-Grab made a journey through the country-side.
He went to the meadow and stood with Art and listened to what Art had to tell him. And as before the King's Steward began "To your father's Son in all truth be it told" Quick-to-Grab had said to the King of the Cats, "If ever you need the counsel of a human being, go to no one else but the Hag of the Ashes who was once called the Hag of the Wood.
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