University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

Melmar enters, and falls prostrate.
Mont.
Your business?—Rise.

Melm.
'Tis for the private ear
Of Montezuma, and the prince Orbellan.

Mont.
All else retire!—
[The rest withdraw.
Now speak.

Melm.
Most mighty sire,
Let not misdeeming hate, or pride imperial,
Reject the service which I come to offer.
Bold be my words, but honest!

Mont.
Forward—boldly.

Melm.
When the wide empire of the great Traxalla,
Bow'd to the arms of greater Montezuma,
Had he not ruled us with too straight a rein,
We had not cast for freedom.

Mont.
Your full purpose—
Speak it.

Melm.
To quit the galling yoke of Mexico,
We put on that of Spain—to scape the flood,
We plunged into the flame!

Orbel.
If I mistake not,
My friend, and kinsman, Melmar!—art thou not?

Melm.
Yes, my loved prince.

Orbel.
A valiant man, my liege!
And chief of our Traxallans.

Mont.
He is welcome.
Tell me, brave Melmar! I would gladly hear
Somewhat of these new lords, our Spanish inmates.

Melm.
Crush them, ye falling Heavens! Earth, sink beneath them!
Plague, famine, fire, consume them to their entrails,
And hell hounds gnaw their bones!—They are, they are,
In lust, more rampant than a summer's fly;
Lawless as winds, remorseless as the rocks,
And, as the gulph of Mexico, devouring!—
Then they are scornful, cruel, and insulting;
As though our Indians were but pismires, placed
For their proud foot to tread on!

Mont.
Wish ye not
To change your masters?

Melm.
Therefore I am come.
Say, sire, what terms Traxallans are to hope for,
When they have joined their powers to those of Mexico,
And scourged these pests back to the noisome fens,
From whence they first arose?

Mont.
Be witness, Sun and Moon, and all ye lights
That shed your comforts on our Indian world!
The day that frees us from these Spanish dæmons,
Who roll infernal thunders o'er our heads,
Shall see Almeria on the throne of Mexico;
And this, your native prince, your loved Orbellan,
Upon the throne of his imperial parents,
Traxalla and Acacis!

Melm.
'Tis enough.
Now mark me—Near the tent of their great Cortez,
My squadrons quarter—since our last engagement,
He did me somewhat of disgrace—Suppose,
Within this hour, I bring him to your presence,
Indignant as a tyger in the toils,
And tearing at his chains?

Orbel.
Your leave, my liege,
I pray, to make a party in this enterprize,
With a few gallant friends!

Mont.
The night's far spent,
And casts a favouring cloak upon your daring.
Glory, and all the gifts of Montezuma,
Attend on your achievement!

[Exeunt.