Ignore t t I’m standing ill; if trutold, I’ve been galloping for centuries; I’ve passed over plains, fougtles, carried off ters of so be irelessly page by page from story to ory, from ory to legend and from book to book; I’ve appeared in countless stories, fables, books and battles; I’ve accompanied invincible astic armies; I’ve galloped from campaign to campaign orious sultans, and as a result, I’ve appeared in countless illustrations.

    feel, you ask, to be painted so often?

    Of course, I’m proud of myself. Yet, I also question ed in all cases. It is evident from tures t I’m perceived differently by everyone. Still, I rong sense t ty, a unity to trations.

    My miniaturist friends ing a story recently, and from it, I learned the king of

    to ter of tian Doge. , but t, “ if tian is poor and er ugly?” to reassure  artist to paint tian Doge’s daugy and belongings. tians could care less about gross indecency: t only ters to tist, but ted infidel artist could depict a maiden or a  you’d be able to pick eit of a croures from Venice, pondering allion, suddenly aroused, attempted to mount ttractive mare in ting, and to bring trol before royed ture and its frame h his huge member.

    t it  ty of tian mare t allion—triking—but t of taking a particular mare and painting a picture in  likeness. Noion arises: Is it sinful to be depicted as t mare  is, like a real mare? In my case, as you can see, ttle difference betures of horses.

    Actually, ticular att