“Thanks be to you,” said Brian, “for that.  I knew that I asked too much, but I knew also thou wouldst redeem the skin amply and generously.  And now let the gold be duly measured out in it, for greedy am I, and I will not abate an ounce of it.”

The servants of the King were then sent with Brian and his brothers to the King’s treasure-chamber to measure out the gold.  As they did so, Brian suddenly snatched the skin from the hands of him who held it, and swiftly wrapped it round his body.  Then the three brothers drew sword and made for the door, and a great fight arose in the King’s palace.  But they hewed and thrust manfully on every side of them, and though sorely wounded they fought their way through and escaped to the shore, and drove their boat out to sea, when the skin of the magic pig quickly made them whole and sound again.  And thus the second quest of the Sons of Turenn had its end.

“Let us now,” said Brian, “go to seek the spear of the King of Persia.”

“In what manner of guise shall we go before the King of Persia?” said his brothers.

“As we did before the King of Greece,” said Brian.

“That guise served us well with the King of Greece,” replied they; “nevertheless, O Brian, this business of professing to be poets, when we are but swordsmen, is painful to us.”

However, they dressed their hair in the manner of poets and went up boldly to the palace of King Peisear of Persia, saying, as before, that they were wandering bards from Ireland who had a poem to recite before the King; and as they passed through the courtyard they marked the spear drowsing in its pot of sleepy herbs.  They were made welcome, and after listening to the lays of the King’s minstrel, Brian rose and sang:—­

   “’Tis little Peisear cares for spears,
   Since armies, when his face they see,
   All overcome with panic fears
   Without a wound they turn and flee.

   “The Yew is monarch of the wood,
   No other tree disputes its claim. 
   The shining shaft in venom stewed
   Flies fiercely forth to kill and maim.”

“’Tis a very good poem,” said the King, “but, O bard from Erinn, I do not understand your reference to my spear.”

“It is merely this,” replied Brian, “that I would like your spear as a reward for my poem.”

Then the King stared at Brian, and his beard bristled with anger, and he said, “Never was a greater reward paid for any poem than not to adjudge you guilty of instant death for your request.”

Then Brian flung at the king the fourth golden apple which he had taken from the Garden of the Hesperides, and it dashed out his brains.  Immediately the brothers all drew sword and made for the courtyard.  Here they seized the magic spear, and with it and with their swords they fought their way clear, not without many wounds, and escaped to their boat.  And thus ended the third quest of the Sons of Turenn.