“Yes, and he shall be. But he must be persuaded, even at this late hour, to dismiss the strangers, and banish them for ever from his domains. He has no right to yield it up. It belongs to his subjects no less than to him. He belongs to them, by the same sacred bond that binds them all to him. He may not sacrifice them to a scruple, which has in it more of superstition than of religion. I must go to the Temple of Cholula, and bring up the hoary old prophet of Quetzalcoatl, and see if he cannot move the too tender conscience of your father, and persuade him that his duty to his gods cannot, by any possibility, be made to conflict with his duty to his empire, and the mighty family of dependent children, whom the gods have committed to his care.”
“Oh! not now, Guatimozin, I pray you. Do not leave us at this terrible moment. Stay, and sustain with your courageous hopes the sad heart of my dear father, who is utterly overwhelmed with the dire omens of this dismal morning.”
“Omens! Oh! Tecuichpo, shall we not rather say that the gods have thus frowned upon our cowardly abandonment of their altars, than that they design, in these dark portents, to denounce an irreversible doom, which our prayers cannot avert, nor our combined wisdom and courage prevent?”
At this moment Montezuma returned. But the deep distress depicted in his countenance, and the air of stern reserve which he assumed in the presence of those whose counsels would tend to shake his resolve, effectually prevented Guatimozin from pursuing, at that moment, the object nearest his heart. He retired into the garden, where he was soon joined by the fair princess, who wished to divert him from his purposed visit to Cholula, knowing full well it would be a fruitless mission.
“But why, my brave cousin, may not my father be right, in feeling that these strangers are sent to us from the gods? And if from the gods, then surely for our good; for the gods are all beneficence, and can only intend the well-being of their children, in all the changes that befal us here. Perhaps these strangers will teach us more of the beings whom we worship, and direct us how we may serve them better than we now do, and so partake more largely of their favor.”
“Alas! my beloved, how can we hope that they who come to destroy, whose only god is gold—to the possession of which they are ready to sacrifice life, love, honor, every thing—how can we hope that they will teach us any thing better or higher than we learn from the ancient oracles of our faith, and the holy priesthood of our religion? No, it cannot be. Their pathway is drenched in blood, and so it will be, till the throne, and he who honors it, are laid in dust at their feet, and you and I, and all the myriads of our people, have become their abject slaves.”
“Say not so, I beseech you, dear Guatimozin. Where my father leads, I must follow, and hope for the best. And you must follow too, for I cannot go without you. Here, take this rose, and wear it as a pledge to me, over this sparkling fountain, that you will no more hazard the imperial displeasure, and the anger of the gods, by your bold and rash resistance of the known decrees of fate. And I will weave a chaplet of the same, to lay upon the altar, to propitiate for us all the favor of heaven.”
There was too much real chivalry in the heart of Guatimozin, to resist the earnest love and eloquent persuasion of his lady-love. He kissed her fair cheek in token of submission to her sway, and then led her to the palace, to learn if any thing new had transpired to encourage his hope that his wishes would yet be realized, in the exclusion of the Spaniards from the city. As they passed along, they heard Karee-o-thán, the garrulous pet of the Princess, seemingly soliloquising among the branches of the flowering orange that hung over her favorite arbor. They paused a moment, but could gather nothing from his chatterings but “Brave Guatimozin! noble Guatimozin! all is yours.”
“An omen! my sweet cousin, a genuine emphatic omen! Even Karee-o-thán encourages me in my treason. I wish I knew how she would respond to the name of this redoubtable Cortez. Pray ask her, Tecuichpo, what she thinks of the Spaniard.”