the momentous point at issue, he arrayed himself in the richly bejewelled robes of state, and placed upon his head the mitred copilli, beneath whose precious feathers gleamed the golden plate.[1] Carefully guarded he ascended to the roof and stepped to the parapet, preceded by a courtier who bore the triple wand of the empire, as was customary on such occasions. Instantly the tumult was hushed, even before the leaders could issue orders for a stay of hostilities; instantly a thousand heads were bent in humble adoration before the august majesty of their sovereign. This attitude, however, was assumed but for a moment; soon these same heads were held higher than ever. Then the chiefs drew near to listen to the unhappy monarch.
Montezuma had appeared with a feeling of mingled fear and doubt as to what his reception might be, and he did not fail to observe that the accustomed reverence was shown only for an instant, involuntarily, as it were, and that silence was prompted rather by curiosity than respect. The urgency of the moment demanded that he should speak, but it was rather as supplicant than ruler that he turned to his people. "You are in arms, my children," he said, "in hot battle. Why is this? You will be slain, and there will be heard throughout the land for many years the wail of wives and little ones. You would give me my liberty, and I thank you. You do not turn from me in anger, and I thank you. You have not chosen another king in my stead, and I thank you. Such an act would displease the gods, and bring destruction
- ↑ See description of his first meeting with Cortés, Native Races, ii. This appearance of the emperor took place on the 27th of June, as Cortés states, but Bernal Diaz, Herrera, and Ixtlilxochitl place it respectively on the 5th, 6th, and 7th day of the siege.
degraded him in the eyes of his subjects, while the elevation of his brother to the leadership must have diminished the influence which till then may have remained with him. He could hardly avoid a feeling of jealousy at the thought of this elevation; and if he, during an impulse of anger against Cortés, had counselled the proceedings of Cuitlahuatzin, he now felt probably both grieved and terrified at the storm he had raised. He also harbored a wholesome fear of Malinche, and the prospect of his speedy departure helped to stir anew the embers of hope. All might yet be well: the capital might be spared further desolation, and he again resume his former grandeur.
