We now shall see him. Heavens! he enters, by the Lord!”
Bang! clash!
With a terrible crash,
Flies open the bedroom door,
And out stalks a figure,
To their eyes much bigger
Than great Gog or Magog, more black than a nigger,
In armour accoutred from head to heel,—
Black rusty old armour, not polished steel.
His vizor is down, but he takes a sight,