The Bishop of Dunkeld at the same moment drawing from his breast a silver dove of sacred oil, poured it upon the unbonneted head of Wallace.

"Thus, O King!" cried he, "do I consecrate on earth, what has already received the unction of Heaven!" Wallace, at this action, was awe-struck, and raising his eyes to that Heaven, his soul in silence breathed its unutterable devotion.

Then looking on the bishop: "Holy father," said he, "this unction may have prepared my brows for a crown, but it is not of this world, and Divine Mercy must bestow it.

Rise, lords!" and as he spoke, he flung himself from his horse, and taking Lord Bothwell by the hand, as the eldest of the band, "kneel not to me," cried he; "I am to you what Gideon was to the Israelites--your fellow-soldier.

I cannot assume the scepter you would bestow; for He who rules us all has yet preserved to you a lawful monarch.