University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Front of Teutile's Cottage.
Enter Teutile and Gonsalvo.
TEUTILE.
Cheer up, young stranger—Nourish not a grief
So unavailing. Fate may yet relent—

GONSALVO.
Alas! good father, what hath fate in store
For such a wretch as I am? Flown for ever
Are the gay prospects of my op'ning youth;
Friends, country, all that give a zest to life
For ever lost!—In the cold earth is laid
My brave, my luckless friend. His cares are over—
When mine will end—

TEUTILE.
Take courage. Thou may'st yet
See thy lov'd country, once again embrace
Those whom thy sick'ning heart now yearns to meet.

GONSALVO.
Could I indeed review them! That were bliss
I scarcely dare to hope for. Yet I know not—
There may be means—

TEUTILE.
Would'st thou rejoin thy comrades?

GONSALVO.
Could'st thou object t' it?

TEUTILE.
'Tis an honest wish,
Which nature prompts, and man should not oppose.
But mark me, youth—Should'st thou with them combine
To spread destruction 'mid our peaceful tribes,
Oh! think what double guilt would load thy soul.
Thou had'st no claim on me; the innocent blood
Wherewith thy hands were stain'd bore witness 'gainst thee,
And cried aloud for vengeance; yet I sav'd thee—

GONSALVO.
May heav'n's dread bolt light on me, if I harm
One of thy gen'rous people! While my soul
Preserves the mem'ry of thy recent kindness,
My voice shall plead for them, my arm shall guard them.

TEUTILE.
Go, good young man, I will not, cannot doubt thee.
Thou hast a feeling heart; follow it's guidance
When suff'ring fellow creatures claim thy pity,
And heav'n will pay thee tenfold.—Come—prepare—
Take some provision for thy vent'rous course,
And then may Providence direct thy way!

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A wild mountainous Country.
Enter Cortez and Velasquez.
CORTEZ.
This savage is a brave ally; he brings
A force with him which we may well employ.
I look'd not for such succour.

VELASQUEZ.
Never yet
Saw I his equal. Bold he is and ardent,
Untameable his passions, proud, resentful,
But then withal so cred'lous—Had'st thou seen him
E'en now, when through our armament I led him,
How dumb with wonder he survey'd our weapons,
Admir'd our armour, touch'd, examin'd all—

CORTEZ.
No marvel things so new should thus amaze him.

VELASQUEZ.
But what most mov'd and pleas'd him were our horses.
'Twas mine own steed he saw, caparison'd,
Champing his bit, and ready for my mounting.
“What's this?” exclaim'd he—“is't a man?—a god?”
“'Tis,” I replied, “the partner of my toils;
“Borne on his back, no obstacles can check
“My rapid course; swift as the wind we fly,
“Surmount the cliff, plunge through the raging flood”—
No more he heard me—with a vault he bounded
Into the seat—

CORTEZ.
'Tis a courageous savage.
Thy courser's mettled, over-match'd I fear
For such unpractis'd guider.

VELASQUEZ.
Not a whit.
With a loud shout he shot across the plain,
Urging the vigour of th' affrighted steed—

Enter Telasco.
TELASCO.
Such wonders have I seen!—I've held a race
With the fleet winds and beat them. Oft I've chas'd
The nimble antelope and have outstript him,
But ne'er 'till now saw I so brave a creature
As that which bore me. He was all fire, all life,
All energy! Methought one soul inspir'd us.
Then such docility—What country's thine
Which boasts such prodigies?

CORTEZ.
I'll shew thee greater.

TELASCO.
Thou deal'st in miracles. Turn where I will,
Some new enchantment meets my dazzled sight.
Why ev'ry element is subject to thee;
Thou dost command them all. Thy coats are proof
'Gainst our keen arrows—Say—Where grows the metal,
Which thy superior pow'rs have master'd thus?

CORTEZ.
In Europe, whence we come. Thou shalt have store on't.

TELASCO.
Wilt give me store on't? Thou'rt a friend indeed!

CORTEZ.
Take from my hand this bright and trusty faulchion—

TELASCO.
To me! In very truth dost give it me?
Now, now indeed am I invincible.
Methinks some spirit doth reside in it,
That through my ev'ry nerve and vein diffuses
New life and energy. My blood runs quicker,
My heart more strongly beats, each faculty
Seems as 'twere doubly brac'd for instant action.
Now, now let Montezuma summon forth
His countless thousands—Let him dare me now!
Thus arm'd, I'll meet him—meet the proud oppressor,
Shake his high throne, and from his vanquish'd hand
Snatch my Zelama!—And thou giv'st it me?
What would'st thou have? Can gold, can gems requite thee?
Speak, gen'rous Spaniard, tell me what return—

CORTEZ.
If thou art gratified, return is made.
My friendship is not bounded by such trifles.
Thou shalt have more. I'll teach thee how to use
Those wonder-working tubes, which vomit flames,
And like the angry bolt of heav'n deal forth
Assur'd destruction on the distant foe.

TELASCO.
Would'st make me equal to thyself?

CORTEZ.
In all,
In all will we be brothers. Prove thyself
True to our friendship, and partake with me
In full community the pow'rs I hold.

TELASCO.
Give me thy hand—

CORTEZ.
'Tis thine—Now on to Mexico!
Soon shalt thou learn how far my pow'rs extend.
Her prince shall bow to our confed'rate force;
Glory shall wait on thee; Zelama's charms
Shall be the noble guerdon of thy toils.

TELASCO.
'Tis transport—ecstacy! Let us set forth—
I'll follow thee, thou harbinger of good!
Let thy loud trumps proclaim our instant march;
Then on—to love, to glory, and Zelama!

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Montezuma's Palace.
Enter Montezuma, Guatimozin, and Caciques.
MONTEZUMA.
At this eventful moment, which seems pregnant
With Mexico's and Montezuma's fate,
I have assembled you, caciques! to scan,
If yet we may, the means of present safety.
Perils as yet unheard of menace us.
Were our foes ordinary men, we need not
Fear their attack; sufficient is our force
To meet their utmost efforts. But with such
We cope not now.

GUATIMOZIN.
If signal be our peril,
Let our defence be correspondent to it.
When common dangers threaten, common courage
May arm us 'gainst them: ordinary men
Grow heroes when their risk is ascertain'd:
New perils are the touchstone of our virtue,
And prove the sterling value of our spirits.
I speak the thought of all your brave caciques.
True to their king, their country, and themselves,
To guard thy throne, to face these pow'rful strangers,
Behold them ready to devote themselves,
And rush to action when their monarch bids them.

MONTEZUMA.
Such sentiments become you. Take my thanks.
Could princely valour save our menac'd state,
Well might I trust your patriotic zeal;
But dreadful are the times in which we live,
And destiny itself seems arm'd against us.
(To Guatimozin)
Give me thine ear—Thou cans't not have forgotten
The prophecy recorded in our archives—

GUATIMOZIN.
Some legend, bred by ignorance, and foster'd
By superstitious fear—

MONTEZUMA.
Term it not so.
'Tis most authentic, and receiv'd for ages
As a mysterious warning of the fate
Which would befal our empire.

GUATIMOZIN.
I'm no friend
To oracles and mystic revelations,
Couch'd under doubtful words to raise alarm,
And dupe the cred'lous.—But, I pray, proceed.

MONTEZUMA.
Thus runs the mystic warning of our fate—
That at th' appointed period—and what time
More likely than the present?—should arrive,
From regions far beyond the eastern main,
A hardy band, the sons of those who erst
The proud foundations of our empire laid,
From us to claim their rightful heritage.

GUATIMOZIN.
And these are they?

MONTEZUMA.
Too surely such they seem.

GUATIMOZIN.
If such be fate's decree, our duty is
To meet it as we ought. If we must fall,
Oh! let us fall like men; let us dispute
Our territory inch by inch. By heav'n!
When in his country's cause a soldier falls,
The little spot which his cold body covers
Is richer than an empire!

MONTEZUMA.
There are times
When cooler councils should predominate;
And such is this.—Nay, be not thus incred'lous—
There are alarming portents, prodigies,
Strange voices, hosts embattled in the sky—

Enter Orozimbo.
OROZIMBO.
Commission'd by our holy priests I come,
To give thee notice that the sacrifice
In honour of our gods hath been fulfill'd.
Thy presence is requir'd.

MONTEZUMA.
Prov'd all propitious?

OROZIMBO.
I dar'd not glance within the sacred veil
Which shrouds from eyes impure their solemn rite,
But a low murmur ran of angry gods,
And pale and ghastly were the looks of those
Who slowly issuing forth gave me their orders.

MONTEZUMA.
I told thee so—I knew our gods were adverse,
Go not away—remain—I fly to learn
What hath betided, what may next ensue.

[Exit with Caciques.
Manent Guatimozin and Orozimbo.
GUATIMOZIN.
Alas! that superstition thus should quench
Those energies, which can alone redeem us!
Is he a man? Hath he a soul or sense?
Is this a time to deal with oracles,
To truckle to his priests?

OROZIMBO.
I greatly fear
He hath more solid grounds for apprehension.
From the remoter border of the lake
A messenger is come, who tells th' approach
Of our redoubted foes.

GUATIMOZIN.
Why let them come!
Why should we fear them?

OROZIMBO.
Vict'ry mark'd their course,
Successive provinces confess'd their sway;
Nay, what transcends belief, amid their ranks
In proud defiance wave Telasco's banners.

GUATIMOZIN.
Telasco join with them! He, he desert us!
Then from the earth are faith and honour flown.
Art certain he hath join'd them?

OROZIMBO.
He who told it
Is most authentic. But behold the princess.
She looks alarm'd. Pray heav'n she heard it not.

Enter Zelama.
ZELAMA.
What new calamities hath fate in store?
Whence all these horrors, which like black'ning clouds
Collect around us? Tell me, Guatimozin,
Nor fear to speak—I am prepar'd for all.
As here I pass'd, I met my royal brother.
On his dark brow dread and suspicion sat:
When I address'd him, with an air disturb'd
He put me from him, and abruptly left me.

GUATIMOZIN.
I cannot tell thee. There are strange reports—
He hath enough to move him, real dangers
Enough to shake a stronger mind than his:
But superstition in his soul hath lodg'd
Her deadly poison; deeply there it rankles,
Unmans him, and defeats our last sad hope.

ZELAMA.
Alas! too well I know his mind is prone
To credit myst'ries, which his cooler judgment
Had taught him to despise. Have then the priests
Thus wrought upon him?

GUATIMOZIN.
Yes—obscure traditions,
The frantic ravings of a zealot's brain,
Distort his sense, and magnify the perils
Which manly valour would disdain to fear.

Enter Montezuma, hastily.
MONTEZUMA.
Save me, protect me, heav'n! Where can I shroud
In tenfold shades the horrors which assail me?
Oh had some rock torn from its base o'erwhelm'd me,
Had the earth open'd and inclos'd me living,
It had been mercy!

ZELAMA.
What alarms thee thus?
Why tremble thus thy limbs?—Speak, I conjure thee.

MONTEZUMA.
Oh my Zelama! ruin stalks around us—
Our doom is spoken—I have heard such things—

ZELAMA.
In mercy speak—

MONTEZUMA.
Thou canst not bear to hear it.

ZELAMA.
Try me. My soul is firm.

MONTEZUMA.
Prepare thee then
To hear the tidings of our sure destruction.
Scarce had I reach'd the sacred spot, where stood
Our holy priests watching the altar's flame,
Scarce had I glanc'd upon the bleeding victims
Scatter'd around its base, when suddenly
The temple shook, as if convulsing nature
Rock'd the firm earth; the torches ceas'd to blaze,
Loud thunders burst, blue lightnings flash'd around,
And streams of fire seem'd pouring from the roof.
Sudden—it harrows up my heart to think on't—
A voice was heard—It was no human sound—
'Twas the great spirit's self—“Monarch,” it cried,
“Hear fate's decree. The vengeful hour approaches
“From eastern climes arrives the destin'd race—
“They come to claim their rightful heritage—
“Thy Mexico must fall”—

GUATIMOZIN.
Be calm, my liege!
Brave are your troops and loyal. Summon all
To arm against these foes, whom thirst of gold—

MONTEZUMA.
Gold, say'st thou: Let them have their fill of it—
What is our gold to us? Dross, baubles, nothing!
Let them have more than e'er their av'rice dreamt of—

GUATIMOZIN.
Oh! stoop not thus to bribe them to forbearance.
We've strength, we've arms, and courage to employ them.
Let them be put to th' proof—

MONTEZUMA.
The stake's too high—
Here, Orozimbo—haste thee to their camp—
Take with thee gold—give it them on condition
That they retire—But hold—thou wilt be niggard,
When we require profusion—Follow me.

[Exeunt Montezuma and Orozimbo.
Manent Zelama and Guatimozin.
ZELAMA.
Ah! lost indeed is Mexico, when thus
Her pilot quits the helm, and leaves her driving
At mercy of the waves. Alas, my brother!
Not thus our ancestors achiev'd their glory—

GUATIMOZIN.
They listen'd not like him to vain reports,
They bow'd not to the superstitious sway
Of their designing priests.—What should appal us?

ZELAMA.
True—all we want is constancy to face
A danger, which our constancy may vanquish.
Methinks, their numbers ought not thus to daunt us.
For ev'ry man they have we have a thousand.

GUATIMOZIN.
We lack not men. Had we but one to guide them,
Glorious success might wait on our exertions.

ZELAMA.
But one to guide them?—Have you not Telasco?
Have you not him, and talk of wanting leaders!
His spirit would suffice to stem the march
Of our invaders, were their numbers doubled,
And, doubled, ten times told.—Oh brave Telasco!
If Mexico's tame sons should hide their heads,
And shrink from peril when he call'd them on,
Her daughters would forsake their looms, would snatch
From their base hands their unavailing weapons,
And rush with him to share the splendid danger!

GUATIMOZIN.
Would he were here!

ZELAMA.
Is now that wish but form'd?
Knows not the brave Telasco of the perils
Which threaten us so nearly?

GUATIMOZIN.
Aye—he knows them.

ZELAMA.
Then Mexico may yet be safe!—When comes he?

GUATIMOZIN.
Rumour, which still delights in new alarms,
Which, though it sometimes may exceed the truth,
Doth sometimes tell it, hath brought heavy tidings—

ZELAMA.
Of what?

GUATIMOZIN.
That many vassals and allies
Have leagued against us.

ZELAMA.
What's that to Telasco?

GUATIMOZIN.
Nay worse—the Tlascalans—

ZELAMA.
They turn against us?
Could not Telasco keep them to their duty?

GUATIMOZIN.
What if he would not?

ZELAMA.
Ha! what is't thou say'st?
Why look'st thou thus?

GUATIMOZIN.
How can I speak it to thee?
Telasco—must I tell it thee?—is false—

ZELAMA.
False is the tongue which slanders thus his fame!
He false! He rebel! He support our foes!
Oh wrong'd Telasco!—What! The patriot hero,
Who with his blood his loyalty has seal'd!
'Tis false! He lives to succour and protect us.

GUATIMOZIN.
In yonder hostile camp his banners wave.
I would have spar'd you this. You wrung it from me—
Now can I but confirm it. Heav'n support thee!

[Exit Guatimozin.
ZELAMA.
True, said he?—What! confirm it?—Gracious heav'n!
If he be false, o'ertake him in his course,
And pour upon his guilty head your vengeance!
It cannot be—some ven'mous tongue hath wrong'd him—
Or if, by momentary passion warp'd,
He may have err'd, my warning voice may save him.
I'll seek him even in the Spanish camp—
Yet hold—Alone, defenceless and a woman,
Dare I encounter perils, which to think on
Curdles my blood? But have I not a cause,
To arm my soul with more than manly spirit?
Hence then, vain terrors! Coward caution hence!
Love, honour, Mexico, shall drown your voice.
I come, Telasco! To thy soul I'll speak.
My bosom glows; inspiring hope impels me
To save my country and my hero's fame!

[Exit.