‘Put,’ he said, ‘these three gold coins into the three bits for Cridenbél in the evening. Then these will be the best on your dish, and the gold will stick in his belly so that he will die of it; and Bres's judgement afterwards will not be right. Men will say to the king, ‘The Dagda has killed Cridenbél with a deadly herb which he gave him.’ Then the king will order you to be killed, and you will say to him, ‘What you say, king of the warriors of the Féni, is not a prince's truth. For he kept importuning me since I began my work, saying to me, ‘Give me the three best bits of your serving, Dagda. My housekeeping is bad tonight.’ Indeed, I would have died from that, had not the three gold coins which I found today helped me. I put them into my serving. Then I gave it to Cridenbél, because the gold was the best thing that was before me. So the gold is now in Cridenbél, and he died of it.’’ ‘It is clear,’ said the king. ‘Let the satirist's stomach be cut out to see whether the gold will be found in it. If it is not found, you will die. If it is found, however, you will live.’