"
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.
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