In a green nook, exceedingly sequestered, and peculiarly beautified by
banks of the richest flowers, were five Indian maidens, three of whom
danced under the trees on the smooth grass, to the sound of a little
pipe or flute, that was played by a fourth. The other, half kneeling,
reclined hard by, fastening a chaplet of flowers round the neck of a
fawn, younger and tamer than that which had fled from Befo, and which
was now seen frisking uneasily, or perhaps jealously, about its
companion.
Young, pretty, and robed with such simplicity as might have become the
Hamadryads of Thessaly, revelling around the green oaks with which their
fate was so inseparably connected, the dancers might indeed have been
esteemed nymphs of the wood, as they moved gracefully and a-tiptoe over
the velvet grass, all unconscious of the presence of any person or
anything to make them afraid. Their naked feet and arms glimmered with
ornaments of gold and native rubies; and the white _cueitl_, or cymar,
with a peculiar vest or jacket of brilliant colours, while allowing
unrestrained motion to their limbs, gave almost a classic and statuary
beauty to their figures. The youthful musician leaned against a tree,
pleasantly absorbed in the melody she was drawing from the pipe; while
the fifth maiden, for whose amusement the diversion was obviously
continued, was too much occupied with the pet animal, whose ambition
seemed rather to be to browse upon the chaplet than to wear it,--to give
much attention to either the dance or the roundelay.
The whole scene was one of enchanting innocence and repose; and even
Befo, who was wont to indicate the presence of a stranger with a growl,
betrayed no token of dissatisfaction, so that Juan stood for a little
time gazing on, entirely unseen. His looks were fastened upon her to
whom the musician and the dancers were but attendants, and who, from
other circumstances, had a stronger claim on his regard.
In her he beheld the young infidel, whose influence over his mind,
operating upon it only for good, had altered the whole current of his
fortunes, and changed what had once seemed a destiny of aggrandisement
and renown, into a career of suffering and contumely. He was now in the
presence of one, for whom he had incurred the hatred of a vindictive
rival, (for all his miseries were dated from the period of his quarrel
with Guzman;) for whose sake he had refused the intercession, and
spurned the affection, of the still more unhappy Magdalena; and for whom
he now thought that even the last and greatest of his griefs, his exile
from Christian companionship, was a happiness, since it promised her the
inestimable gift of a faith, which he would have gladly purchased her
with his life. How far a barbarian and the daughter of a barbarian was
worthy of, and capable of inspiring, an affection so romantic and so
noble, we must inquire of our hearts, rather than our reason.
She was of that age, which, in our northern climes would have
constituted her a girl, but which, in a tropical region, entitled her to
the name of woman. Her figure was neither mean nor low, but of such
exquisite proportions as, in these days of voluntary degeneration, are
seldom found except among the children of nature. Her skin was, for her
race, wonderfully fair; and yet there were, even among the men of
Mexico, skins much lighter than those of some of the Spaniards, of which
Guatimozin was a famous example. Her dress was similar in fashion to
that of the other damsels, but consisted of many more garments,
according to the mode of the very wealthy and noble maidens, who were
accustomed to wear one cueitl over another, each successive one being
shorter than the preceding, so that the borders of each could be
distinguished. Thus, when they were of different colours, as was often
the case, the whole figure, from the ankles to the waist, seemed
enveloped in one voluminous garment, distinguished by broad horizontal
stripes, exceedingly gay and brilliant. The colours upon the garments of
this maiden were of a more modest character, and richness was given to
them rather by borders singularly embroidered in gold and gems, than by
any splendour of tints. A little vest or bodice of very peculiar fancy
was worn over the shoulders and bosom, secured by a girdle that might
have been called a chain, since it was composed of links of gold. Her
arms were bare like the others', and her feet, not entirely naked, as
was the case with the rest, were protected by a sort of pretty shoes,
too complete to be called sandals, and yet too low to be moccasins. With
this graceful figure, was a face, singularly sweet and even beautiful,
with eyes so broad, so large, so dark, so lustrously mild and saintlike
in expression, that they rivalled those of the young fawn she was
caressing, and perhaps, more than the trivial circumstance presently to
be mentioned, had contributed to obtain for her a name, by which her
countrymen seemed to compare her to the lights of heaven. Among the gold
ornaments and gems of emerald and ruby, with which her hair was
interwoven in braids, was a large jewel of pearls, the rarest, and
therefore the most precious, of trinkets in Tenochtitlan. It was in the
form of a star, to which it bore as much resemblance among the sable
midnight of her hair, as does the snowy blossom of the great Magnolia
amid the dusky obscurity of its evergreen boughs.
Upon this vision Juan could have gazed for hours; but the fawn which he
had followed to the retreat, perceiving the formidable Befo so close at
hand, bleated out a hasty alarm, and thus directed upon him the eyes of
the whole party. The dance and the music ceased; the maidens screamed,
and would have fled, but for the sense of duty which constrained them to
await the bidding of their mistress. She, though much alarmed at the
sight of neighbours so unexpected, yet mingled with her terror feelings
which kept her chained to the spot, while the attendants clustered
around her, confused, and anxious to fly.
As soon as Juan perceived the alarm of the party, and saw the eyes of
the princess directed upon him, he bent a knee half to the earth, as if
in the presence of a princess of Christendom, saying gently,
"I am Juan Lerma, a Castilian--an exile from the Spanish camp,
entreating welcome from my enemies, and yet am no enemy. Fear me not,
daughter of Montezuma; and fear not this animal, who shall be to thee as
harmless as the young fawns."
At these words, pronounced in their own tongue, and with a voice so mild
and conciliating, the maidens recovered somewhat from their fright, and
assuming at once an air characteristically sedate, cast their eyes upon
the earth, while the young princess stood regarding Juan, with a
countenance indicative of many changing emotions. Seeing, when he had
finished, that he preserved an attitude of submissive respect and
expectation, she stepped timidly forward, and presenting him the garland
which she had failed to secure around the neck of the favourite, said
artlessly, and yet with both dignity and decision,
"The king is the Great Eagle's friend; the daughter of Montezuma is his
bondmaid--he is welcome to Mexico. I remember the friend of Montezuma my
father,--I remember the good acts of the Christian.--He is welcome."
Then putting the chaplet into his hand, and taking this into her own,
with a confidence that was perhaps as much the result of unsophisticated
feelings as of peculiar customs, she touched it with her
forehead,--indicating by her words, her gift, and her act of ceremonious
salutation, that, with her welcome, she confessed the obligation of
friendship and gratitude for acts of past kindness.
"I will wear the garland upon my breast," said Juan, with a look of
purer satisfaction than he had shown for many long days; "and if heaven
grant me fulfilment of the hope that is nearest to my heart, I will wear
it there for ever. Noble and lovely maiden, I am here by the will of
Guatimozin,--I know not well for what purpose, nor how long I shall be
suffered to remain in your presence. This, at least, is certain: the
dark day of war has arisen, and this happy garden may soon become a
theatre of fierce contention, in which the fairest and the best may
perish at the same hour with the worst. Let not that day find Zelahualla
without the Christian's cross on her bosom."
"Guatimozin will drive the wicked from the land," said Zelahualla,
mildly. "Has my lord the Great Eagle forsaken his wicked people, and
will he yet cling to their gods? After a time, Centeotl, the mother of
heaven and the earth, will prevail over Mexitli, and redeem men from
sorrow: then will men bleed no more on the pyramids, but flowers and
fruits will be the only sacrifices demanded by heaven. How is it with
the gods of Spain? do they not call for victims for ever? The gods of
our land are more just and merciful."
"Alas," said Juan, "this is a delusion brought upon you by our sinful
acts, not by any defects of our holy religion. Know, Zelahualla, that
there are no gods but ONE, and He is both just and merciful,--the god
alike of the heathen and the Christian. But of this I will not speak to
you now; though perhaps I may never have opportunity to speak again. If
death should come upon you suddenly, call then, in that grievous hour,
upon the name of the Christian's God, and he will not refuse to hear
you, who are in ignorance, and therefore sinless. And wear upon your
neck this cross, given to me by one who was a beloved friend." (It was
the gift of Magdalena.) "Look upon it with reverence, and heaven may
vouchsafe a miracle in your favour. Let it not be forgotten, when danger
comes to you."
The spirit of the Propaganda had infected the minds of all the Spaniards
in America. The ambition of conversion was inseparably linked with that
of conquest; and on all occasions, except those of actual battle, the
rage of making proselytes was uppermost in the minds of many. This was
undoubtedly fanaticism, and, in the case of the fierce and avaricious,
it developed itself with all the odious features of superstition. With a
few of more gentle and kindly natures, it was a nobler and more
benignant passion. While others sought proselytes for the glory of the
church, these thought only of doing good to man. The best, the most
enthusiastic and successful missionaries, were those whose efforts were
prompted by affection. The first impulse, therefore, of Juan, who had
long since felt and cherished, even among distant deserts, a strong
interest in the fate of this young princess, was to secure to her the
blessings of salvation, which his religious instruction could not lead
him to hope for any one dying in unbelief. It was a consequence and
evidence of affection; but a still stronger proof was given, when he
drew from his breast a little silver cross, which, up to this moment, he
had treasured with the most jealous regard, and proffered it to
Zelahualla. It was, as has been mentioned, the gift of Magdalena,
presented before the evil acts of Hilario and Villafana had interrupted
the affection fast ripening in Juan's heart, and accepted because it
possessed little value beyond that imputed by consecration and
superstition. It was, indeed, as Magdalena had told him, the gift of her
deceased mother, and she had always been taught to believe it possessed
some of the extraordinary virtues of a talisman. In these virtues Juan
was sufficiently benighted to believe; and it was perhaps for this
reason, rather than from any grateful memory of the giver, that he had
from that day worn it in secret upon his bosom, so that it had even
escaped the hands of his jailers in Mechoacan, and from the eyes of his
Spanish companions. It was a proof of the pure and disinterested nature
of his regard for the Indian princess, as well as of his reliance upon
its heavenly protection, that he could rob himself of a relic so prized,
in order that its presence might secure to her the benefits of a belief
she neither understood nor professed.
If such were his own superstition, it could not be supposed that
Zelahualla's was less in degree. On the contrary, she received the
humble trinket with a look of respect as well as gratitude, saying with
the greatest simplicity,
"What the Great Eagle loves must be good, and Zelahualla will listen
when his god speaks to her."
"Is it possible," thought Juan, while flinging the chain of silver beads
by which it was secured round his neck, "that a creature so beautiful
and so good--so pure, so innocent, so lovely to the eye and the
thought--should be really a pagan and barbarian?"
The question was indeed natural enough. A sweeter impersonation of
beauty both mental and corporeal, could scarcely be imagined; and the
light of her eyes was so mild and seraphic, that one might wonder whence
it came, if not from the operation of that divine belief, which chases
from the heart the impurer traits of nature.
What further thoughts might have crowded into Juan's breast, and what
might have been the conclusion of an interview so interesting, it is not
necessary to imagine. While he was yet securing the chain around the
bended neck of the princess, a step, previously heralded by the growl of
Befo, rang upon the walk, and the Lord of Death, followed at a little
distance by Techeechee, stalked into the covert, arrayed in all the
Mexican panoply of war and knighthood. Instead of a tunic of cotton
cloth or other woven material, he wore, doubtless over some stronger
protection, a sort of hauberk of dressed tiger's skin, fitting tight to
his massive chest, and bordered by a skirt of long feathers, reaching
nearly to his knees. On his head was a helmet or cap which had once
adorned the skull of the same ferocious animal, the teeth and ears
flapping about his temples, and the skin of the legs, with the talons
remaining, hanging at the sides over his shoulders and breast, waving
about in connexion with his long black locks and the scarlet tufts among
them. His shield of stout cane-work, painted, and ornamented with a long
waving penacho of feathers, hung at his back, and a macana of gigantic
size swung from his wrist. His legs were swathed, merry-andrew-wise,
with ribands of scarlet and gilded leather, that seemed to begin at his
sandals; and his arms, otherwise naked, were ornamented up to the elbow
in a similar way. On the whole, his appearance was highly formidable and
impressive, and not the less so that many marks of blood, crusted about
his person, as well as divers rents in his spotted hauberk, told how
recently and how valiantly he had borne his part in the terrors of
conflict.
As he entered the covert, his step was bold, springy, and majestic, such
as belongs to the native American warrior, when he treads the prairie
and the mountain, beyond the ken of the white man. It happened that his
ear being struck by the growl of Befo, his attention was not immediately
directed to the princess and her companion; but, seeing the dog, and
conceiving at once, though not without surprise, the cause of his
presence, he turned round in search of his master, and beheld him
engaged securing the relic around the neck of the daughter of Montezuma.
At this sight, his countenance changed from the haughty joy of a
soldier, and darkened with gloom and displeasure. He even grasped his
macana, and took a stride towards the pair, who were unconscious of his
intrusion, until Befo made it evident by a louder growl, and by taking a
stand, ready to dispute the warrior's right of approach.
The person of the Lord of Death was at first unknown to Juan; but he
beheld enough in his visage to convince him it was not that of a friend.
Still, he knew too much of the almost slavish reverence with which even
the highest nobles regarded their king and the child of a king, to
apprehend any danger from the warrior's wrath. In this belief he was
justified by the act of the barbarian, who, perceiving Zelahualla look
towards him with surprise, released the weapon from his grasp, and
sinking into the lowest obeisance of humility, kissed the earth at her
feet. Then rising and surveying her with a melancholy, but deeply
respectful look, he said,
"What am I but a slave before the daughter of Montezuma? The young man
of the east is the king's brother. I speak the words of Guatimozin: 'My
brother shall look to-day upon the king of Mexico, with the crown upon
his head, at the rock of Chapoltepec, among the people.' These are the
words of the king. Shall the king's brother obey the king?"
"Doth Guatimozin call the Eagle his brother?" exclaimed Zelahualla, with
a look of the greatest satisfaction. "Then shall no evil befall him
among the people. Let my lord the Christian and Great Eagle depart, and
fear not: for the men of Mexico know that he was good to the king and
the king's daughter, when the king was a captive; and therefore
Zelahualla will remember what he says of the god of the silver cross."
Thus summoned, and thus dismissed, Juan withdrew his eyes from the
beaming and singularly engaging countenance of the maiden, and looked to
the Lord of Death, as if to signify his readiness to depart. But the
Lord of Death seemed for a moment to have lost his powers of locomotion.
He remained gazing upon the princess with an aspect increasing in gloom,
and once or twice seemed as if he would have spoken something in anger
and reprehension. Yet deterred by the divinity of royalty that hedged
about her, or more probably by the divinity of her beauty, he roused up
at last, and, after making another deep reverence, which was as if a
lion had bowed down at the feet of a doe, he strode away without
speaking, followed by Juan and Techeechee.
From Techeechee Juan learned what he had in in part gathered from the
obscure expressions of the noble: He was summoned to witness the
coronation of the young king in form before the assembled Mexicans, on
the consecrated hill of Chapoltepec, on which occasion he was to be
honoured and his person made sacred, by the king bestowing on him the
title of friend and brother.
The path led Juan as before through the royal menagerie; and while
passing among the wild beasts, Techeechee signified to the Christian
that the presence of Befo among the Mexicans would subject him to much
difficulty, if not danger; and would certainly, the moment he was seen,
produce a confusion in the assemblage, indecorous to the occasion, and
highly displeasing to the king and the Mexican dignitaries. To this Juan
justly assented, and not knowing in what other manner he could dispose
of his faithful attendant, he agreed, at Techeechee's suggestion, to
confine him in one of the several empty cages, wherein he was assured
and believed, he would remain in safety. This being accomplished, and
not without trouble, he endeavoured with caresses to reconcile the
animal to his novel imprisonment, and then left him.
He found the Lord of Death at the pool, with a piragua, very singularly
carved and ornamented, in which were six Mexicans, known at once by
their dress to be warriors of established reputation, the rules of
Mexican chivalry not allowing any soldier, even if the son of the king,
to wear, in time of war, any but the plainest white garment, until he
had accomplished deeds worthy of distinction. These were arrayed in
escaupil, variously ornamented with plumes and gilded leather; they had
war-clubs and quivers, and their appearance was both martial and
picturesque.
At a signal from Masquazateuctli, they seized their paddles and began to
urge the piragua towards the water-gate of the wall, and Techeechee
leaping into the little canoe, Juan prepared to follow after him. He was
arrested by the Lord of Death, who touched his arm, though not rudely,
and looking into his face for awhile, with an expression in which anger
seemed to struggle with melancholy, said,
"The Great Eagle is the brother of Guatimozin,--Masquazateuctli is but
his slave. Where would the king's brother have been this day, had the
king not taken him from the prison-house?"
"In heaven, if it becomes me to say so--certainly, at least, in the
grave," replied Juan, in some surprise. "In this capture, or this
rescue, as I may call it, the king will bear witness, I did not myself
concur; for such concurrence I esteemed unbecoming to my state as a
Christian and Spaniard. Yet I am not the less grateful to Guatimozin,
and I acknowledge he has given me a life."
"It was a good thing of the king," said the barbarian; "but what is
this? Are you a Spaniard in Mexico, and alive? neither upon the block of
the pyramid, nor in the cage at the temple-yard? The king feeds you in
his house, he gives you water from his fountain, and robes from his
bed,--he takes you by his side, and, among his people, he says, 'This
man is my brother; therefore look upon him with love.' Is not this good
also of the king?"
"It is," replied Juan, gravely; "and I need not be instructed, that it
becomes me to be grateful, even by a warrior so renowned and noble as
the Lord of Death."
The eyes of the barbarian sparkled with a fierce fire while he
continued,--
"What then should you look for in Mexico, but shelter and food?--a house
to hide you from the angry men of Spain, and bread to eat in your
hiding-place? Where are the quiver and the macana? Will the king's
brother fight the king's enemies?"
"If they be my countrymen, the Spaniards, _no_," replied Juan, with great
resolution, yet not without uneasiness; for he read in the question, an
early attempt to seduce him into apostacy. "I am the king's guest,--his
prisoner, if he will,--his victim, if it must be,--but not his soldier."
"Hearken then to me," said the Indian, with a stern and magisterial
voice: "The king is the lord of the valley, the master of men's lives,
and the beloved of Mexico; but he has not the heart of the old man gray
with wisdom, and he knows not the guile of the stranger. Why should his
brother do him a wrong? The king thinks his brother a green snake from
the corn-field, to play with;[9] but he has the teeth of the rattling
adder!"
[Footnote 9: The Mexicans were accustomed to tame and domesticate
certain harmless reptiles.]
"Mexican!" said Juan, indignantly, "these words from the mouth of a
Spaniard, would be terms of mortal injury; and infidel though you be,
yet you must know, they bear the sting of insult. What warrior art thou,
that canst abuse the helplessness of a captive, and do wrong to an
unarmed man?"
"Do I wrong thee, then?" replied the Lord of Death, grimly. "Lo, thou
art here safe from thy bitter-hearted people, and wilt not even repay
the goodness of the king, by striking the necks of his enemies, who are
also thine! Is not this enough? Put upon thee the weeds of a woman, and
go sleep in the garden of birds, afar from danger,--yet call not the
birds down from the tree; hide thee in the bush of flowers, yet pluck
not the flowers from the stem. Let the guest remember he is a guest, and
steal not from the house that gives him shelter.--Does the king's
brother understand the words of the king's slave?"
"I do not," said Juan, with a frown. "They are the words of a
dreamer;--" and he would have passed on towards the canoe, which he now
perceived was waiting him near the wicket, but that the Lord of Death
again arrested him.
"The king is good," he said with deep and meaning accents, "but the
wrong-doer shall not escape. Perhaps,"--and here he softened the
severity of his speech, and even assumed a look of friendly
interest,--"perhaps the Great Eagle has left his best friend among the
fighting-men of Tezcuco? Let him be patient for a little, and his friend
shall be given to him."
"You speak to me in riddles," replied Juan, impatiently. "Let us be
gone."
The Mexican gave the youth a look of the darkest and most menacing
character, and uttering the figurative name which Guatimozin had already
applied to the princess, said,
"The Centzontli is the daughter of Montezuma,--the bird that is not to
be called from the tree, the flower that is not to be pulled from the
stem.--The king is good to his brother; but Mexico is not a dog, that
the Spaniard should steal away the daughter of heaven."
Then, clutching his war-axe, as if to give more emphasis to his warning,
the nature of which was no longer to be mistaken, he gave the young man
one more look, exceedingly black and threatening, and strode rapidly
away. The next moment, he leaped, with the activity of a mountain-cat,
into the piragua, and speaking but a word to the rowers, was instantly
paddled into the lake.
Juan followed, not a little troubled and displeased by the complexion
and tone of the menace, and stepping into the canoe, was soon impelled
from the garden. He perceived the piragua floating hard by, and the Lord
of Death standing erect among the rowers. As soon as the canoe drew
nigh, the warrior-noble made certain gestures to Techeechee, signifying
that he should conduct the youth on the voyage alone. Then giving a sign
to his attendants, the prow of the piragua was turned towards the east,
and, much to the surprise of Juan, and not a little even to that of the
Ottomi, was urged in that direction with the most furious speed. As they
started, the rowers set up a yell, as if animated by the prospect of
some stirring and adventurous exploit.
Techeechee gazed after them for a moment, and then handling his paddle,
he directed the canoe round the point of Tlatelolco, and was soon lost
among a multitude of similar vessels, all proceeding to the southwest,
in the direction of the hill of Chapoltepec.