But to-night--well, to-night I would fain be twenty years of age, that I might fling my books over the hedge and ride out with you, my sword at my side, my courage in my hand, into the world's highway.

I will beg you to keep the mare as a token and a memory of our meeting.

There is no better beast, I believe, in Christendom." Wogan was touched by the old gentleman's warmth.
"Count," said Wogan, "I will gladly keep your mare in remembrance of your great goodwill to a stranger.

But there is one better beast in Christendom." "Indeed?
And which is that ?" "Why, sir, the black horse which the lady I shall marry will ride into my city of dreams." And so he rode off upon his way.

The morning was just beginning to gleam pale in the east.