Gabrielle: Iím the one who told you those stories. Thatís all they were-- stories. Youíre not a soldier, Perdicus. You donít belong here.
Perdicus: No, no. For the first time in my life, I feel I really do belong.
Gabrielle: Go home, before something happens to you.
Perdicus: Iím sorry, Gabrielle, but-- you canít tell me what to do anymore.
Gabrielle: You forget who youíre talking to. Remember the time that you almost drowned trying to save my hat when it fell in the river? Or the time that-- you almost got trampled trying to give me a carriage ride?
Perdicus: Well, those days are over. Iím not a love-sick kid anymore.
Gabrielle: What if something happens to you? What am I supposed to do then?
Perdicus: Write a story about me.
Perdicus:Do you remember-- the time-- that we got caught stealing corn from Hylusí farm, and he threatened to tell your father?
Gabrielle: But then you took the blame so I woudnít be punished. Did I ever thank you for that?
Gabrielle: Thank you. Did you ever think, when we were kids, that weíd find each other again-- here-- in the middle of Troy?
Perdicus: No, but Iím sure glad that we did.
Perdicus: I know that weíll see each other again, some day. You take care of yourself.
Gabrielle: You too.
Gabrielle: Do you want to go back for the horse? Itís bound to be a collectors item?
Xena: Only if youíre gonna pull it.