University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

A Hall in Montezuma's Palace.
Enter Guatimozin and Orozimbo.
GUATIMOZIN.
Gone forth to meet the foe? Hath Montezuma
Submitted to become a suppliant?
I thought thou had'st commission to repair
With splendid presents to the Spanish camp.

OROZIMBO.
I was prepar'd to go, when to his presence
I suddenly was call'd. I found the king
Surrounded by his priests. He listen'd eagerly
To their discourse of dreams and revelations,
Which seem'd to move him strangely.

GUATIMOZIN.
Yes—to them
He listens readily, when they rehearse
Their visionary fables—But proceed.

OROZIMBO.
I told him that the treasures were prepar'd.
With that, attended by his priestly train
Who bore his off'rings, from the gate he issued—

GUATIMOZIN.
Hear'st thou? What means that clamour?

OROZIMBO.
'Tis the king.

GUATIMOZIN.
Comes he as king, or as a captive led
By his insulting foes?

OROZIMBO.
As forth he went
In regal dignity, so comes he back.

Enter Montezuma, Priests and Attendants.
MONTEZUMA.
Prepare for the reception of this envoy
From Europe's prince! Ye sacred ministers,
Hence to the temple; pay to the ruling spirit
Your tributary sacrifice of thanks.
I will forthwith attend you.—Guatimozin!
Rejoice with me: our cause of dread is past.

GUATIMOZIN.
I would indeed rejoice if it were past.

MONTEZUMA.
Trust me we did injustice to these strangers:
They are not foes; from Europe's prince they come,
With us to form alliance.

GUATIMOZIN.
Come allies
As these invaders come!

MONTEZUMA.
Thou dost mistake them.
Had'st heard their leader state the friendly views
And peaceable intentions of his king,
Thou had'st believ'd him.

GUATIMOZIN.
I'd believe as soon
The hooded serpent would not wound my hand,
Were I to stretch it tow'rds him! that the tiger,
When crouching for his prey and hot for blood,
Would spare his trembling victim!

MONTEZUMA.
Thou shalt see,
And shortly too, how futile are thy doubts.
The noble Cortez will ere long arrive,
Confiding in our honour and good faith,
Within these walls to ratify our treaty.

GUATIMOZIN.
Within these walls? Shall we thus court destruction?
Think on't again—Bare if thou will'st thy breast
To the tornado—seek pale pestilence
When in the air she hovers—but beware
How thou trust'st him!

MONTEZUMA.
Why not? There are occasions,
When manly confidence is our best wisdom;
And such I deem the present. Come with me—
Join in our sacrifice; then talk with Cortez,
Hear him detail his friendly purposes,
And thou'lt confess that Mexico is safe.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Outskirt of Cortez's Camp.
Enter Gonsalvo.
GONSALVO.
Yonder's our camp—now am I safe again.
Propitious heav'n, which through surrounding perils
Hast guarded and supported me, receive
The tribute of my thanks!—But soft—who comes?—
A woman? And alone?—Her garb bespeaks her
Of no mean quality—she seems disturb'd.

[He stands aside.
Enter Zelama, veiled.
ZELAMA.
Oh why, when urg'd by duty and by love
Thus far have I advanc'd, does my heart shrink,
And all my boasted resolution vanish?
I deem'd myself more able to support
The hazards of my enterprize—Defend me,
Ye heav'nly pow'rs! Who thus approaches me?

GONSALVO.
Maiden, why thus alone so near our camp
Hast thou adventur'd? Be not thus alarm'd.
Thou may'st confide in me. I will not harm thee.

ZELAMA.
Thou look'st as if—and yet thy words are friendly—
Art thou not one of those, who arm'd with terrors
Have landed 'mong us—

GONSALVO.
Lady, I am one,
Who, though to arms inur'd, have learn'd to rev'rence
Thy sex's claim; whose heart can feel it's pow'r,
And whose best zeal will guard it.

ZELAMA.
Courteous stranger,
I am not prone to doubt, and thy fair words
Might well disarm suspicion; yet report
Hath told such things—Thou surely art of those,
Whose bold aggression hath provok'd our fears.

GONSALVO.
Though here with those invaders I arriv'd,
My nature is not savage. Had it been so,
I had not merited the name of man,
If to the kindness of thy countrymen
I prov'd insensible. I was at his mercy,
And must have perish'd, had not the kind hand
Of a good Indian sav'd me from destruction.
Can I reflect on that, and injure thee?

ZELAMA.
I will confide in thee. I need protection,
And claim it from thee.

GONSALVO.
Freely speak thy pleasure,
And tax my utmost service. Let us hence,
Nor linger here. This precinct of a camp
Is not a place where thou may'st fitly stay.

ZELAMA.
I thank thee. Know'st thou where in yonder lines
Telasco's banners wave?—Conduct me to him.
Ask in return what recompense thou wil'st.

GONSALVO.
Far from my soul be such ignoble thought!
No, lady, no—the Indian who reliev'd me
Ask'd no return; his bounty, like the dew
Of gracious heav'n, spontaneously descended,
And rous'd my dormant virtue into action.
There lies our way. Be of good courage, lady;
Whate'er betide, I'll guard thee with my life.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Cortez's Camp.
Enter Cortez and Velasquez, with Soldiers.
CORTEZ.
Is all prepar'd? Have you throughout our line
Issued mine orders?

VELASQUEZ.
Ev'ry thing is ready.

CORTEZ.
Let us 'bove all maintain strict discipline,
And gain firm footing in yon Mexico.
We shall have time enough to drop the mask,
When we're once 'stablish'd in their confidence.
Be this attended to.

(He stands musing.
VELASQUEZ.
'Tis well advis'd.
When once we're safely lodg'd, let 'em look to it.
The courtly train that waited on their king
Gave us a tempting sample of the wealth
We may expect to find within the town.
'Twill be a booty to enrich us all.

CORTEZ.
And hark, Velasquez! Search Telasco out.
That hair-brain'd savage may defeat our plans
Should we neglect to watch him. Had the king
Met us in arms, he might have serv'd us well:
As 'tis, observe him closely; take good heed
He go not with us to the town.—How now!
What brings him here o' th' sudden?

Enter Telasco.
TELASCO.
(To the soldiers)
—Stand aside—
(To Cortez)
—'Tis well I've found thee—Tell me, thou deceiver,
Hath Montezuma visited the camp,
While I was unappriz'd, as if I were
An abject thing, unworthy of regard?
Thou knew'st I would have met him face to face—

CORTEZ.
Be patient, valiant prince! The time will come—

TELASCO.
I tell thee that the time is come—is past—
Shame on thy promises! Is this thy faith?
Did'st thou not swear thou would'st espouse my cause,
That thou would'st ne'er with Montezuma treat,
'Till all my wrongs should be redress'd?

CORTEZ.
I did.—
Charge me with perfidy and breach of faith!
But I forgive thee. I was not inform'd
Of his intended visit, and so brief
Our conf'rence prov'd, had I implor'd thy presence,
His quick return had frustrated thy meeting.
But shortly shalt thou fit occasion find
Effectually to urge thy rightful claims.

TELASCO.
When wil't arrive?

CORTEZ.
This day.

TELASCO.
Comes he so shortly?

CORTEZ.
He comes not hither—we repair to him.
He hath with lib'ral confidence invited
Me and my friends to visit Mexico.

TELASCO.
That's well—exceeding well—In Mexico?
Within his walls?—I thank thee for the tidings.
How could I doubt thee, how suspect thy faith?
I do repent me—If my hasty nature
Hath wrought perversely in me, pass it over.—
In Mexico!—Then shall I view Zelama,
Bask in her heav'nly smiles—Oh gen'rous Spaniard!
If in thy native clime thou'st own'd the pow'r
Of all-subduing love—

CORTEZ.
I have not been
Insensible to beauty—I have lov'd—

TELASCO.
I knew it—thou'rt too noble and too brave
Not to have bow'd to his resistless sway.
But when thou seest the virgin whom I love,
When thou shalt hear her eloquently speak,
Shalt see her eyes beaming with tenderness—

CORTEZ.
I shall impatiently expect to meet her.
Announce me as thy friend; bid her receive me
As one who loves thee.

TELASCO.
She will love thee then—
But let's away—my soul is on the wing—
Each moment lost is treason to my love.

CORTEZ.
Forward then—on to Mexico, to glory,
To the completion of thy fondest hopes.
Array thy force—hold them prepar'd to march
When the loud clarion breathes its warning note.
'Till then in yonder vale let them remain.
Farewell—I hasten to draw forth my line,
And then—

TELASCO.
And then for vengeance and Zelama!
I pray thee haste—issue thine orders quickly—
Let but thy clarion give its welcome call,
And swifter than heav'n's bolt we follow thee!

[Exit Telasco.
CORTEZ.
So—we're well rid of him—let him but wait
Where I have plac'd him 'till my clarion sounds,
And he's secure enough—we need not watch him.
Ere this impetuous savage shall have rang'd
His rude battalions, on yon lofty walls
In proud defiance shall my banners wave.
Then let him dare me if he will!—Velasquez!
Give orders for our instant march—away!

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Interior of Telasco's Tent.
Enter Telasco and Capana.
TELASCO.
How wears the time?

CAPANA.
Two hours are nearly pass'd,
Since the bright sun his high meridian left.

TELASCO.
The day grows old, and we are still inactive.
What can those Spaniards find to keep them thus?
Would Cortez had the spur in him which I have!
He would not linger—Go—enquire the cause—
Bring me prompt answer.
[Exit Capana.
By my faith, this Spaniard
Is of a gallant nature, frank and noble.
I was to blame in doubting his good faith:
I do repent me of it. With what kindness
Did he pass over my impatient chidings,
And give me in return the blissful hope
Which now expands my heart—

Enter Capana.
CAPANA.
A Spanish warrior,
With a veil'd damsel, earnestly implores
Immediate audience.

TELASCO.
Think'st thou I can waste
My time on suitors now? Say I'm employ'd.

CAPANA.
I told them so. The warrior acquiesc'd,
But with augmented earnestness the damsel
Implor'd to see thee. Sighing she exclaim'd,
“He must receive me—urgent is my mission—
“His fame, his hopes, his love depend on it!”

TELASCO.
Admit her straight—
Exit Capana.
My fame, my hopes, my love!
What can this myst'ry mean?

Enter Capana with Zelama veiled.
TELASCO.
Leave us alone—
Exit Capana.
Who art thou, damsel? Wherefore seek'st thou thus
In phrase obscure and dark immediate audience?
If of my love thou know'st, impart it quickly.

ZELAMA.
Of what, alas! was once thy love—

TELASCO.
What was?

ZELAMA.
What was—but which no longer now—

TELASCO.
What mean'st thou?
Keep me not in suspense—speak—

ZELAMA.
Ask thine heart,
Consult that faithful monitor. 'Twill tell thee
If thou art constant to thy plighted faith,
If yet Zelama—

TELASCO.
If my heart yet love her!
There's not a drop, which from that fountain flows
Untinctur'd by my love! There's not a pulse
Beats through my frame, which owes not strength to her!
Witness, ye heav'ns, and ye presiding spirits—

ZELAMA.
Invoke not heav'n to hear thy perjur'd vows—

TELASCO.
Forbear—provoke me not—my nature's hasty
When 'tis thus touch'd. I do respect thy sex—

ZELAMA.
I ask no shield to ward me from thy vengeance;
Let it light on me, for my words shall wake it.
Know, faithless man! it is Zelama speaks them.

(She unveils.
TELASCO.
Zelama! Gracious pow'rs!

ZELAMA.
Yes! 'Tis Zelama,
Thy once believing, credulous Zelama!
She, at whose feet thou'st knelt, and pour'd forth vows
Of endless constancy; she, who now finds thee
Bankrupt in faith, in honour and allegiance.

TELASCO.
What say'st thou?—I forgetful of my faith!
Not purer is the flame, which from yon sun
Pervades this globe, than that which warms my heart.
Can'st thou accuse me thus? There was a time—

ZELAMA.
There was a time—alas! can I recal it?—
When I esteem'd thee Mexico's best hope,
Our country's guardian, ornament and pride.
I priz'd thee then, look'd up to thee for all
Which love could promise, honour could fulfil.
What art thou now?—Look from thy tent, and tell me!

TELASCO.
I have not merited this foul reproach.
If ever I deserv'd my country's favour,
If with thy love I e'er was bless'd, believe me,
I'm still unchang'd, still true to thee as ever.
What though I hither come array'd in arms,
Though 'mid the ensigns of these warlike strangers
My banners wave, still is my faith untainted;
'Tis for thy sake I join'd them—

ZELAMA.
Mine!—Oh wretched,
Oh lost Zelama!—Am I the pretext,
The flimsy veil to screen a rebel's guilt?
Where, where are flown those inborn sentiments
Of gen'rous loyalty, that patriot zeal,
Which grac'd thee once, for which alone I lov'd thee?
Ah! where is now that hero, that Telasco,
To whom our Mexico look'd up for safety?
Behold him! See the rebel to his king
Crouch to th' invading Spaniard; mark his banners
Wave in derision o'er his bleeding country!

TELASCO.
Thy words are daggers to my heart. Thou wrong'st me.
Wast thou not torn from me? Did not thy brother
Spurn my alliance? Hope abandon'd me;
Despair and vengeance occupied my soul:
This Spaniard promis'd to assist my love,
And force reluctant justice from the tyrant
Who kept thee from me. If I gave him credence,
If I too rashly yielded to temptation—

ZELAMA.
Hath treason then assum'd a novel aspect,
Are honour, faith, allegiance, grown mere words,
Which thou may'st sport with as best suits thy purpose?
'Tis to thy heart I speak. I know thy nature;
'Tis noble, princely and ingenuous.
Thou should'st have known me too; known that my heart,
Which felt, which lov'd thy virtues, had the force
To cast thee from me, should'st thou prove unworthy.

TELASCO.
Upbraid me still, but look not on me thus—
Weep'st thou?—I cannot bear thy tears—Oh turn!
Reject me not—Grant me a moment's thought—

ZELAMA.
Hear me, Telasco!—Thou hast known my heart,
How I esteem'd thee—lov'd thee—Nay, forbear—
That heart is yet unchang'd; yet would I rather
Plant there my dagger, with my vital blood
Wash out thine image, than accept a hand
Arm'd 'gainst it's sov'reign and insulted country.

TELASCO.
I see, I see th' extent of my offence!
Conviction rushes on my soul—I stood
On the dread verge of a steep precipice,
And my next step had led me to destruction.
Thy hand arrested me. Forget my fault—
Cast me not from thee—I may yet redeem
My error, still prove worthy of thy favour.
Thus at thy feet I register my vows,
On this dear hand breathe forth my raptur'd soul,
And pledge myself to act as thou would'st have me!

ZELAMA.
There spoke Telasco! Now again I know thee,
Now can I look on thee with pride, and hail thee
Our country's hero.—Come—the time demands
Immediate action; dangers lour around;
To Mexico already Cortez marches.
Know'st thou his plans?

TELASCO.
I had no cause to doubt him.
His shew was honest. When he spoke with me,
He talk'd of peace and treating with the king.

ZELAMA.
I fear his purposes.

TELASCO.
He shall be watch'd,
And closely too.—But we too long delay:
My forces are array'd; let me conduct thee
To where they stand expectant of my coming.
Thy presence will inspire them with fresh ardour,
And make them doubly brave. Then to thy brother!
Thou hast redeem'd me, and shalt plead my cause.

ZELAMA.
I'll do such justice to thy princely worth,
That he shall take thee to his inmost heart,
And with his sanction ratify thy hopes.

TELASCO.
Oh grant me but occasion to deserve it!
Place me 'mid perils great as my past errors,
Let death array'd in all his terrors face me,
I'll dare the glorious conflict, and, while arm'd
With thy approval, meet impending fate!

[Exeunt.