“Do not go, O king! Rather than endure such shame, let us die!”
Stupefied, almost distraught, the monarch seemed not to hear the heroic entreaty. His gaze was on the face of Cortes, now as impenetrable and iron-like as the armor on his breast. “The gods have abandoned me!” he cried, despairingly. “I am lost! Malinche, I will go with you!” His head drooped, and his hands fell nerveless on the chair.
The boy arose, and turned to the conquerors, every feature convulsed with hate.
“Thanks, good king, thanks!” said Cortes, smiling. “Thou hast saved my soul a sin. I will be thy friend till death!”
Thereupon, he stepped forward, and kissed the royal hand, which fell from his lips as if palsied—I will not say profaned—by the touch. And, one after another, Leon, Lugo, Avila, Alvarado, and Sandoval approached, and knelt on the dais, and in like manner saluted the fallen prince.
“Are you done, Malinche?” the victim asked, when somewhat revived.
“What I wish now, above all things,” was the reply, spoken with rare pretence of feeling, “is to be assured, good king, that we are forgiven the pain we have caused thee, since, though of our doing, it was not of our will as much as of the ambition of some of thy own lords and chiefs. What I desire next is, that thy goodness may not be without immediate results. I and my officers, thy son and these councillors, are witnesses that thou didst consent to my proposal out of great love of peace and thy people. To secure the object,—noble beyond praise,—the lords here in the palace, and those of influence throughout the provinces, must be convinced that thou dost go with me of thine own free will; not as prisoner, but as trusted guest returning the favor of guest. How to do that best is in thy knowledge more than mine. Only, what thy judgment approveth, set about quickly. We wait thy orders.”
“Io’, uncles,” said Montezuma, his eyes dim with tears, “as you love me, be silent as to what has here taken place. I charge you that you tell it to no man, while I live. Bid Maxtla come.”
Summoning all his strength to meet the shrewd eyes of the chief, the monarch sat up with a show of cheerfulness.
“Bring my palanquin,” he said, after Maxtla’s salutation, “and direct some of the elder lords to be ready to accompany me without arms or ceremony. As advised by Huitzil’, and these good uncles, I have resolved to go, and for a time abide with Malinche in the old palace. Send an officer, with the workmen, to prepare quarters for my use and that of the court. Publish my intention. Go quickly.”