After that they resolved to seek the pigskin from the King of Greece, and they debated how they should come before him.  “Let us,” said Brian, “assume the character and garb of poets and men of learning, for such are wont to come from Ireland and to travel foreign lands, and in that character shall the Greeks receive us best, for such men have honour among them.”  “It is well said,” replied the brothers, “yet we have no poems in our heads, and how to compose one we know not.”

Howbeit they dressed their hair in the fashion of the poets of Erinn, and went up to the palace of Tuish the King.  The doorkeeper asked of them who they were, and what was their business.

“We are bards from Ireland,” they said, “and we have come with a poem to the King.”

“Let them be admitted,” said the King, when the doorkeeper brought him that tale; “they have doubtless come thus far to seek a powerful patron.”

So Brian and Iuchar and Iucharba came in and were made welcome, and were entertained, and then the minstrels of the King of Greece chanted the lays of that country before them.  After that came the turn of the stranger bards, and Brian asked his brethren if they had anything to recite.

“We have not,” said they; “we know but one art—­to take what we want by the strong hand if we may, and if we may not, to die fighting.”

“That is a difficult art too,” said Brian; “let us see how we thrive with the poetry.”

So he rose up and recited this lay:—­

   “Mighty is thy fame, O King,
   Towering like a giant oak;
   For my song I ask no thing
   Save a pigskin for a cloak.

   “When a neighbour with his friend
   Quarrels, they are ear to ear;
   Who on us their store shall spend
   Shall be richer than they were.

   “Armies of the storming wind—­
   Raging seas, the sword’s fell stroke—­
   Thou hast nothing to my mind
   Save thy pigskin for a cloak.”

“That is a very good poem,” said the King, “but one word of its meaning I do not understand.”

“I will interpret it for you,” said Brian:—­

  “Mighty is thy fame, O King,
  Towering like a giant oak.”

“That is to say, as the oak surpasses all the other trees of the forest, so do you surpass all the kings of the world in goodness, in nobleness, and in liberality.

  “A pigskin for a cloak.”

“That is the skin of the pig of Tuish which I would fain receive as the reward for my lay.”

   “When a neighbour with his friend
   Quarrels, they are ear to ear.”

“That is to signify that you and I shall be about each other’s ears over the skin, unless you are willing to give it to me.  Such is the sense of my poem,” said Brian, son of Turenn.

“I would praise your poem more,” said the King, “if there were not so much about my pigskin in it.  Little sense have you, O man of poetry, to make that request of me, for not to all the poets, scholars, and lords of the world would I give that skin of my own free will.  But what I will do is this—­I will give the full of that skin of red gold thrice over in reward for your poem.”