Pooh! Here stands the horse, that’s a matter of fact;—
For the rest, why, ab esse ad posse, et cetera.
[Puts on the dress and looks down at it.
Sir Peter—a Turk, too, from top to toe!
Well, one never knows what may happen to one.—
Gee-up, now, Granë, my trusty steed!
[Mounts the horse.
Gold-slipper stirrups beneath my feet!—
You may know the great by their riding-gear!
[Gallops off into the desert.