Mont. No succour from the town?
Odm. None, none is nigh.
Guy. We are inclosed, and must resolve to die.
Mont. Fight for revenge, now hope of life is past But one stroke more, and that will be my last.
Enter CORTEZ, VASQUEZ, PIZARRO, to the Taxallans: CORTEZ stays them, just falling on.
Cort. Contemned? my orders broke even in my sight? Did I not strictly charge, you should not fight?
[To his Indians.
Ind. Your choler, general, does unjustly rise,
To see your friends pursue your enemies.
The greatest and most cruel foes we have,
Are these, whom you would ignorantly save.
By ambushed men, behind their temple laid,
We have the king of Mexico betrayed.
Cort. Where, banished virtue, wilt thou shew thy face,
If treachery infects thy Indian race?
Dismiss your rage, and lay your weapons by:
Know I protect them, and they shall not die.
Ind. O wondrous mercy, shewn to foes distrest!