Montezuma called upon to surrender himself a prisoner.
Cortez now feigned a relenting mood, and declared that he could not himself doubt the word of the emperor, but that something more was requisite to appease the rage of his followers. "Nothing," said he, "can satisfy them of your sincerity and of your honorable intentions, unless you will leave your palace, and take up your abode in the Spanish quarters. This will pacify my men, and they will honor you there as becomes a great monarch."
When Marina interpreted this strange proposal, Montezuma was for a moment so struck with amazement as to be almost bereft of speech. His cheek was flushed with shame and rage, and then the hectic glow passed away into deadly paleness. His ancient spirit was for a moment revived, and he exclaimed, indignantly,
"When did ever a monarch suffer himself to be tamely led to a prison? Even were I willing to debase myself in so vile a manner, would not my people immediately arm themselves to set me free?"
One of the impetuous attendants of Cortez, as the altercation continued, exclaimed, grasping his sword,
"Why waste time in vain? Let us either seize him instantly or stab him to the heart."
Montezuma, though he did not understand his words, observed the threatening voice and the fierce gesture, and, turning to the amiable interpretress, Marina, inquired what he said.
"Sire," she replied, with her characteristic mildness and tact, "as your subject, I desire your happiness; but as the confidante of those men, I know their secrets, and am acquainted with their character. If you yield to their wishes, you will be treated with all the honor due to your royal person; but if you persist in your refusal, your life will be in danger."
Montezuma conveyed to the Spanish quarters.