Conspicuous among the gay multitude that flitted about the court, was Nahuitla, Prince of Tlacopan, a young chief of the Tepanecs. He was just ripening into manhood, of an uncommonly lithe and agile frame, exceedingly fair and graceful, and gifted with unusual powers of intellect. He was one of the rarest geniuses of the age, and astonished and amused the court with the variety and beauty of his poems, and other works of taste. Nor did his intellectual accomplishments exceed his heroism and loyalty. Guatimozin had not an abler or more devoted chieftain in all his realm. It was he who fought side by side with the Emperor in all his after conflicts, endured with him the horrors of the wasting siege and painful captivity which followed, and finally shared his cruel and shameful martyrdom, at the hands of the then terror-stricken and cowardly Cortez, declaring with his last breath, that he desired no better or more glorious lot, than to die by the side of his lord.
Nahuitla, like all good knights and brave soldiers, to say nothing of true poets, had a heart warmly susceptible of tender impressions, and could not resist the bright eyes and witching smiles, that illuminated the saloons and gardens of the imperial palace. Promiscuous flirtation was less hazardous in Tenochtitlan than in most of the capitals of Christendom. The wealthy nobles being allowed to marry as many wives as they could support, the young prince could win the affections of all the bright daughters of the valley, without at all apprehending a suit for breach of promise, or a conspiracy against his own life, or that of his favorite, by some disappointed rival. How many conquests he made in one brief campaign, does not appear in the chronicles of the day. Atlacan, a princess of Tezcuco, was his first trophy. She was very fair and highly gifted, resembling in many points of person and character, the guardian genius of the young Empress, the talented Karee.
At his first encounter with the Tezcucan princess, Nahuitla was deeply impressed with a peculiar expression of thoughtfulness, shading a brilliantly beautiful countenance, and imposing a kind of constrained awe upon the stranger. This shadow gradually disappeared upon a further acquaintance, till the whole face and person were so lighted up with the fire of her genius and wit, that it seemed as if invested with a supernatural halo. Their intercourse was a perfect tournament of wit, and their brilliant sallies and sparkling repartees, were the theme of universal admiration.
The princess Atlacan was always attended by a very prudent, watchful, anxious chaperone, of a fair exterior, and pleasing manners, who had passed the meridian of life, and begun to wane into the cool of its evening. She had also a brother, Maxtli, considerably older than herself, who, from a two-fold motive, seemed to delight in disappointing her expectations, and thwarting her plans. He was a cold, mercenary, selfish man, who sought only his own aggrandizement. The princess was a special favorite of her father, who was a prince of the highest rank, and nearly related to the reigning king of Tezcuco. She had already received many substantial proofs of parental partiality, which her avaricious brother would fain have claimed for himself. Her brilliant qualities and growing influence made her an object of jealousy, as seeming to stand in the way of his own preferment. He had used every exertion to dispose of her in marriage to some of her numerous suitors, and had particularly advocated the cause of a wealthy young merchant of Cholula, who rejoiced in the euphonous name of Xitentlóxiltlitl, from whom Maxtli had received large presents of gold and jewels.
Atlacan despised the merchant, who fondly imagined that his gold could purchase any jewel in the realm. She would not listen to his proposals. It was not pride of family, for in Anahuac, under the Aztec dynasty, the merchant was a man of note, scarcely inferior to the proudest noble. But the merchant was only a merchant, a man of one idea, and that was gold, without refinement, without sentiment, without heart, like the majority of the same class of mere money mongers all the world over.
Maxtli was enraged by his sister’s refusal of this alliance, which, if it had been consummated, he would have made subservient to his own interests. He determined, from mere revenge, to throw obstacles in the way of her alliance with the gifted prince of Tlacopan. The annoyances he invented, and the frequent prudential interposition of her cautious chaperone, who was in the pay of Maxtli, made her position rather a difficult one, and often put her disposition to the severest test. It chanced, one lovely evening, that the lovers had stolen a march upon both their tormentors, and found, in the royal gardens, a few moments of that unwatched uninterrupted conference, which only those in the same delicate relation, at the same period of life, know how to appreciate. Their absence from the saloons was soon noticed. The duenna was severely censured, and sent in pursuit of the fugitive. Karee, who was in the secret of the escape, led her a long and wearisome chase, through the numberless halls and corridors of that immense pile, and finally left her, at the furthest extremity of the building, to find her way back as she could. Then, returning to Maxtli, who could scarce restrain his rage that they had so long eluded him—
“My lord,” said she, “can you tell me where I shall find your sister? I have a message for her, which I can only deliver to her personally.”
“I know not,” he replied angrily, “but she is probably flirting somewhere with that fool fop, the royal bard of Tlacopan. But from whom does your message come?”
“That can only be made known to herself. I saw her some time since, in the garden, leaning upon the arm of this same royal bard, the only young prince in Anahuac worthy of such a jewel.”
The prince bit his lip with vexation, and Karee ran off toward the garden. In a few moments, the poor old chaperone came blustering along, out of breath and out of humor.