University of Virginia Library

SCENE VI.

The Camp of the Spaniards.
Cortez enters unarm'd, except his sword.
Cort.
Heavens, what a glorious canopy is spread,
O'er unobserving silence!—how the moon
And wakeful planets dance their glittering maze,
In ceaseless evolutions!—Earth is no more,
From the creation to the last of things,
The tomb of all its offspring!—What a scope
Is here for human thought?—

A Mexican enters.
Mex.
From Guyomar—
In haste, and breathless!—Treason is at hand—
I dare no more—take warning!—

[Exit.
Cort.
Treason!—whence?
All are at quiet in their nightly death
Of sleep and silence.—Hark—what rustling's that?
Stand!—Come no nearer.

Orbellan enters suddenly, his sword drawn, and followed by Mexicans.—He lays hold on Cortez.—Cortez springs back, draws, and kills Orbellan at the first pass.
Orbel.
You are my prisoner.
Silence; not a word!

Cort.
Deeds were, perhaps, as well!

Melmar and Traxallans enter behind, and seize and bind Cortez.
Melm.
Bind, bind him, sure.

Cort.
Guards!—Vasquez!

Melm.
But another word—and this
Shall silence you for ever!—
[Offers a dagger to his breast.
O, he is slain,
Our prince is slain!—Soft—take the body up—
Lead off your prisoner!

[Exeunt.