The Black Horse
NCE there was a king and he had three sons, and when the king died, they did not give a shade of anything to the youngest son, but an old white limping garron.
"If I get but this," quoth he, "it seems that I had best go with this same."
He was going with it right before him, sometimes walking, sometimes riding. When he had been riding a good while he thought that the garron would need a while of eating, so he came down to earth, and what should he see coming out of the heart of the western airt towards him but a rider riding high, well, and right well.
"All hail, my lad," said he.
"Hail, king's son," said the other.
"What's your news?" said the king's son.
"I have got that," said the lad who came. "I am after breaking my heart riding this ass of a horse; but will you give me the limping white garron for him?"
"No," said the prince; "it would be a bad business for me."
