Then the priest of the megatherium approaches the second shape, and slowly removing the veil from it exclaims to the people: "Behold and adore!"
The shape of the second man is bright with neither gold nor precious stones. The stranger wears a simple white robe, which displays his stately figure as it really is, without attempting to improve it by exotic finery. The only decoration of his bare head are his luxuriant, down-flowing locks, and the sole armament of his loins consists of a short sword, which requires the foe who has anything to say for himself to come to very close quarters.
And now the priest spoke to the people.
"Lo! here is a strange man from a distant land beyond the sea, who has been drawn to our shores by Triton's mighty arm. In his eyes burns a fiercer fire, in his veins flows a warmer blood than ours. Before the expression of his visage the face of every man born on our shores quails and blanches. I say no more. You have eyes to see. Make your choice."
Then the other priest cried: "Who will have this hero?"
At this invitation only a poor couple or so of wreaths fluttered down from the crowd, wreaths which certain women of vicious taste had taken from their heads and cast at the feet of the half-savage Hercules below.
But when the priest of the megatherium cried: "Who will have this stranger for a god?" there was a veritable tempest of falling wreaths. The women tore the flowers from their hair and bosoms and threw them with shouts of joy towards the stranger, so that the floor of the amphitheatre resembled a garden in a rain of flowers. "Him only!" they cried, "him only, and none other!"
The diamond-garnished, gold-embroidered hero of many fights rose in disdainful wrath with his priest, and throwing his glittering sword over his shoulder, descended the steps of the platform and sat down moodily on its lowest step.
The stranger remained alone upon the platform with his priest, who twined a fragrant wreath of roses among his locks and cried joyfully—
"Hail thou god Tetzkatlepoka! hail in the name of the fair dispensers of bliss, thou elect of the people! Take thine own, thou king of all beauty, thou prince of women! Take the flowers which bloom for thee, the lips which smile at thee! Hail, thou god Tetzkatlepoka!"