And Guatamozin, yet more softened, would have given him all the old love, but that Tula, contracted to the Tezcucan, rose to memory. Checking the impulse, he regarded the unhappy monarch sorrowfully.
And the latter, glancing up at the sun, said,—
“It is getting late. I left the train going to the hunting-grounds. By noon they will return, and I wish to be at the city before them. My canoe lies at the landing; walk there with me, and on the way I will speak of the purpose of my visit.”
Their steps as they went were slow, and their faces downcast and solemn. The king was first to speak.
“As the time requires, I have held many councils, and taken the voice of priest, warrior, and merchant; and they agree in nothing but their confusion and fear.”
“The king forgets,—I have been barred his councils, and know not what they considered.”
“True, true; yet there is but one topic in all Anahuac,—in the Empire. Of that, the tamanes talk gravely as their masters; only one class asks, ‘Who are the white men making all this trouble?’ while the other argues, ‘They are here; they are gods. What are we to do?’”
“And what say the councils, O king?”
“It could not be that all would speak as one man. Of different castes, they are differently moved. The pabas believe the Sun has sent us some godly warriors, whom nothing earthly can subdue. They advise patience, friendship, and peace. ‘The eye of Huitzil’ is on them, numbering their marches. In the shade of the great temple he awaits, and there he will consume them with a breath,’—so say the pabas. The warriors are dumb, or else borrow and reassert the opinions of the holy men. ‘Give them gold, if they will depart; if not that, give them peace, and leave the issue to the gods,’—so they say. Cuitlahua says war; so does Cacama. The merchants and the people have no opinion,—nothing but fear. For myself, yesterday I was for war, to-day I am for peace. So far I have chosen to act upon the advice of the pabas. I have sent the strangers many presents and friendly messages, and kept ambassadors in their camp; but while preserving such relations, I have continually forbade their coming to Tenochtitlan. They seem bolder than men. Who but they would have undertaken the march from Cempoalla? What tribes or people could have conquered Tlascala, as they have? You have heard of their battles. Did they not in a day what we have failed to do in a hundred years? With Tlascala for ally, they have set my word at naught, and, whether they be of the sun or the earth, they are now marching upon Cholula, most sacred city of the gods. And from Cholula there is but one more march. Already from the mountains they have looked wistfully down on our valley of gardens, upon Tenochtitlan. O ’tzin, ’tzin, can we forget the prophecy?”
“Shall I say what I think? Will the king hear me?” asked Guatamozin.