I
marvel to see how men can be cajoled and call the visor virtue."
Scrymgeour had not waited for this reply of the insolent earl, and
Buchan answered him: "I care not," said he; "whoever keeps my castle
over my head, and my cellars full, is welcome to reign over John of
Buchan. So onward, my gallant Cospatrick, to make our bow to royalty
in masquerade."
When these scorners approached, they found Wallace standing uncovered
in the midst of his happy nobles. There was not a man present to whom
he had not given proofs of his divine commission; each individual was
snatched from a state of oppression and disgrace, and placed in
security and honor. With overflowing gratitude, they all thronged
around him; and the young, the isolated Wallace, found a nation waiting
on his nod; the hearts of half a million of people offered to his hand
to turn and wind them as he pleased. No crown sat on his brows; but
the bright halo of true glory beamed from his godlike countenance. It
even checked the arrogant smiles with which the haughty March and the
voluptuous Buchan came forward to mock him with their homage.
As the near relations of Lady Mar, he received them with courtesy; but
one glance of his eye penetrated to the hollowness of both; and then,
remounting his steed, the stirrups of which were held by Edwin and Ker,
he touched the head of the former with his hand; "Follow me, my friend;
I now go to pay my duty to your mother.
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