When Billy Beg heard all this, he was very sorrowful, and the bull noticed his looks.  “What are you doitherin’ about?” said the bull to him.  So Billy told him.  “Don’t fret yourself about me,” said the bull, “it’s not I that’ll be killed!”

The day came, when Billy Beg’s bull was to be killed; all the people were there, and the queen, and Billy.  And the bull was led out, to be seen.  When he was led past Billy he bent his head.  “Jump on my back, Billy, my boy,” says he, “till I see what kind of a horseman you are!” Billy jumped on his back, and with that the bull leaped nine miles high and nine miles broad and came down with Billy sticking between his horns.  Then away he rushed, over the head of the queen, killing her dead, where you wouldn’t know day by night or night by day, over high hills, low hills, sheep walks and bullock traces, the Cove o’ Cork, and old Tom Fox with his bugle horn.

When at last he stopped he said, “Now, Billy, my boy, you and I must undergo great scenery; there’s a mighty great bull of the forest I must fight, here, and he’ll be hard to fight, but I’ll be able for him.  But first we must have dinner.  Put your hand in my left ear and pull out the napkin you’ll find there, and when you’ve spread it, it will be covered with eating and drinking fit for a king.”

So Billy put his hand in the bull’s left ear, and drew out the napkin, and spread it; and, sure enough, it was spread with all kinds of eating and drinking, fit for a king.  And Billy Beg ate well.

But just as he finished he heard a great roar, and out of the forest came a mighty bull, snorting and running.

And the two bulls at it and fought.  They knocked the hard ground into soft, the soft into hard, the rocks into spring wells, and the spring wells into rocks.  It was a terrible fight.  But in the end, Billy Beg’s bull was too much for the other bull, and he killed him, and drank his blood.

Then Billy jumped on the bull’s back, and the bull off and away, where you wouldn’t know day from night or night from day, over high hills, low hills, sheep walks and bullock traces, the Cove o’ Cork, and old Tom Fox with his bugle horn.  And when he stopped he told Billy to put his hand in his left ear and pull out the napkin, because he’d to fight another great bull of the forest.  So Billy pulled out the napkin and spread it, and it was covered with all kinds of eating and drinking, fit for a king.

And, sure enough, just as Billy finished eating, there was a frightful roar, and a mighty great bull, greater than the first, rushed out of the forest.  And the two bulls at it and fought.  It was a terrible fight!  They knocked the hard ground into soft, the soft into hard, the rocks into spring wells, and the spring wells into rocks.  But in the end, Billy Beg’s bull killed the other bull, and drank his blood.

Then he off and away, with Billy.

But when he came down, he told Billy Beg that he was to fight another bull, the brother of the other two, and that this time the other bull would be too much for him, and would kill him and drink his blood.