O’er earth and water, through air, ’tis thine
Whither I will to bear me!”
And lo, the stick became a bay nag, dressed, saddled, and bridled, with a rosette behind each ear, and a blue feather in front.
Bellah mounted, and the horse set forward; first at a walking pace, then he trotted, and at last galloped, and that so swiftly, that ditches, trees, houses, and steeples passed before the young girl’s eyes like the arms of a spindle. But she complained not, feeling that each step brought her nearer to her dear Houarn; nay, she rather urged on her beast, saying,
“Less swift than the swallow is the horse, less swift the swallow than the wind, the wind than the lightning; but thou, my good steed, if thou lovest me, outstrip them all in speed: for a part of my heart is suffering; the better half of my own life is in danger.”
The horse understood her, and flew like a straw driven by the whirlwind till he arrived in the country of Arhés, at the foot of the rock called the Stag’s Leap. But there he stood still, for never had horse scaled that precipice. Bellah, perceiving the cause of his stopping, renewed her prayer:
“Once again, thou courser mine,
By good St. Vouga, hear me!
O’er earth and water, through air, ’tis thine
Whither I will to bear me!”