"One act of mercy spoils a life
Of fragrant slaughter full.
Since you are nothing—
Neither merciless nor merciful,
Your doom is this:
You shall be hurled
From a cliff
And this good world to nothingness."
So spoke the serpent in a hiss.
Then Huitzil seized a monster spear
And drove the king along the path.
His soul now first knew fear
At the beast laugh
The gods gave—once he looked back,
But following after,
Huge Huitzil strode upon his track,
Shaking with laughter.
Now the far valley burst upon his view
With rolling hill and plain,
Cloud-shadowed to the mountains blue.
He stood upon the cliff again—
Tottered—and heard an eagle scream—
Then suddenly he seemed to fall
As one falls in a dream.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Down in the palace in the town,
The king's body stirred and cried
A fearful cry, and startled slaves ran in;
And rumor spread that he had died.
Then came a loud uproar
And the priests raged outside,
And with stone hammers smote upon the door
And Huitzil claimed his bride.
Here ends the third scroll with the sign
of a closed eye, which is
the symbol of
death.
