KENILWORTH - Penn State University

Sir Walter Scottwith a heavy club spiked with steel. In fine, he representedexcellently one of those giants of popular romance, who figurein every fairy tale or legend of knight-errantry.The demeanour of this modern Titan, when Wayland Smithbent his attention to him, had in it something arguing muchmental embarrassment and vexation; for sometimes he satdown for an instant on a massive stone bench, which seemedplaced for his accommodation beside the gateway, and thenever and anon he started up, scratching his huge head, andstriding to and fro on his post, like one under a fit of impatienceand anxiety. It was while the porter was pacing beforethe gate in this agitated manner, that Wayland, modestly, yetas a matter of course (not, however, without some mentalmisgiving), was about to pass him, and enter the portal arch.The porter, however, stopped his progress, bidding him, in athundering voice, “Stand back!” and enforcing his injunctionby heaving up his steel-shod mace, and dashing it on theground before Wayland’s horse’s nose with such vehemencethat the pavement flashed fire, and the archway rang to theclamour. Wayland, availing himself of Dickie’s hints, beganto state that he belonged to a band of performers to whichhis presence was indispensable, that he had been accidentallydetained behind, and much to the same purpose. But thewarder was inexorable, and kept muttering and murmuringsomething betwixt his teeth, which Wayland could make littleof; and addressing betwixt whiles a refusal of admittance,couched in language which was but too intelligible. A specimenof his speech might run thus:—”What, how now, mymasters?” (to himself)—”Here’s a stir—here’s a coil.”—(Thento Wayland)—”You are a loitering knave, and shall have noentrance.”—(Again to himself)—”Here’s a throng—here’s athrusting.—I shall ne’er get through with it—Here’s a—humph—ha.”—(To Wayland)—”Back from the gate, or I’llbreak the pate of thee.”—(Once more to himself)—”Here’sa—no—I shall never get through it.”“Stand still,” whispered Flibbertigibbet into Wayland’s ear,“I know where the shoe pinches, and will tame him in aninstant.”He dropped down from the horse, and skipping up to theporter, plucked him by the tail of the bearskin, so as to inducehim to decline his huge head, and whispered somethingin his ear. Not at the command of the lord of some Eastern309