Part 10 (1/2)

But to be ”drawn and quartered” like the brute, And made the sport of pa.s.sion; to begin A life of va.s.salage, with such a slave Yclept as master, claiming from above The license that Jehovah never gave Except the iron hand was woven o'er with love-- It is too much! G.o.d's justice is not lame.

Hypocrisy may steal and wear the cloak, And don the ermine, with its fair, false claim; With crucifix and litany may croak; But Time o'ertakes it and it falls to earth Like Judas on its immolating sword, And it must learn to curse its hour of birth.

It is the pledge of destiny--the stern, unwritten word.

THE LANDING OF THE SPANIARDS.

The Courier[N], new laden from the coast, Has hastened to the council of the King With most portentious tidings: picture-prints That tell of boats that float upon the wing; And pale-faced warriors, clad in s.h.i.+ning scales.

The monarch hears with trembling; he has long Looked for the coming of great Quetzalcoatl, And, though he felt his nation to be strong, Yet had he feared his reign would be the last.

The oracles had read him overcast, With some impending destiny--the ruse Which priests have always found to compa.s.s their abuse.

The chiefs of church and state are all convened To canvas, and compare their theories, And much of wisdom surely can be gleaned From these firm-visaged counsellors of his; And Montezuma[O] is the first to speak-- His dark, sad eyes are beautifully bright; He was not philosophic like the Greek, And yet his words made glitter of the night:

”We swing upon the hinges of our fate, Most reverend priests and worthy counsellors, And it is well we counsel and conform Our future to the fas.h.i.+on of events.

The rising sun has sent inquiring rays For many years, to greet our coming G.o.d, And lo! he now turns back from Tlapalan; ”And what must we, but welcome his advance?

Ye long have held me kindred of the G.o.ds; Yet I deny me what your partial eyes Have kenned upon my una.s.suming face.

I am as other men, though more advanced; And if great Quetzalcoatl takes back my crown, I bow in humble va.s.salage to him.

For what am I, to question his advance?

A moth, upon the torches' fervent ray; An anthill, at the foot of 'Catapetl.

And I have sometimes thought most worthy priests, That we have drawn the lightning from the cloud By a mistaken wors.h.i.+p of the G.o.ds.

No one will question my religious zeal, For I brought many victims to the block; But human blood doth have a subtile voice That reaches ears our eyes have never seen; And though the itztli opens to the heart, Some heart may beat far out in open s.p.a.ce That whispers its avengement on the air.

Our G.o.ds have brought us victory, 'tis true; And yet, great Nezahualcoyotl did spurn The shedding of all human blood, to G.o.ds; And when great Quetzalcoatl was on the earth, Our G.o.ds were satisfied with other blood.

The angels of the mighty past cry out Against the d.a.m.ning practice. Why not now, ”For once and all, wash off our b.l.o.o.d.y hands?

These human cries pierce farther than we know; These human souls may ride into the sun; We cannot claim his broad, unc.u.mbered breast, To the exclusion of the rest of earth.

The G.o.d of earth and air may come to judge At this dark moment for this very sin; Then let us look him boldly in the face, And if we have offended, make amends; If our mistaken zeal has overdone, Surely his heart will cover up our faults, And we may thus propitiate his wrath.”

Then rose the ancient High Priest, Tlalocan,[P]

And in his sternest manner, thus he spake: ”Great Montezuma! king, of earthly kings!

The heart of Tlalocan is bruised and broke To hear the words his monarch has vouchsafed Such sacrilege belongeth not to kings; Great Huitzilopotchli must, indeed, be strayed, Or, he will shake his thunders on the earth, And, strike the Aztecs from the face of him.

War is the wastage of all human flesh, And whether man be stricken on the field, Or, with the sacred itztli, offered up, The measure must be met with human blood.

”Thy empire has been purchased at this price, And cannot otherwise perpetuate.

The earth and heaven, both have set their mark Upon the bosom of the placid lake; And by the coming of those fiery stars, That flashed their baleful faces in the sky, All omenous that anger brooded o'er, The G.o.ds have read the purpose of your soul; And thus forwarn you that you must retract.

They cry for victims and must be appeased; They gave you conquest without stay or stint, When you did furnish, full to their desire; But there are few within the shambles now, And they must be replenished, or the doom, That has forshadowed on the Eastern sky, Will flash and fall upon your naked head.

Great Quetzalcoatl will come and strike you down, And grind you into ashes in his wrath.”

Then spoke the st.u.r.dy Counselor Teuhtlile[Q]: ”Tlalocan holds the nearest place to heaven, And in his zeal, doth sound the ready key That rhythms with your empire. We must suit Our action with his words, or we are lost.

These pale-faced warriors must be met with alms; The G.o.ds must be appeased with fresh supplies.

”Let me, myself, go down upon the coast, And with our ready painters bring you back A full account of what we look upon.

And if, perchance, these be the van of him Whose coming we have watched these many years, Then will we counsel further the emprise, And in the watch and wake of all events, Be not o'ertaken, but forestall the time.”

”Your counsel has the sanction it desires; I would not measure lances with the G.o.ds,”

The monarch answered: ”In the dust I bend, And plead the weakness of a human heart.

The South shall furnish victims for the block; And Teuhtlile shall repair him to the coast; The dread monition of the flaming stars May be evaded with our ready zest.

Our gold and precious stones, with lavish hand, Shall be poured out to coy them from our track; For what are all the earth's indulgences, Against the smiling favor of the G.o.ds?”

”Repair thou to the coast, my good Teuhtlile, With plenteous retinue, and goodly stores; With cotton fabrics of the latest cast; With s.h.i.+elds and cuira.s.ses inlaid with gold; The burnished mirror of the fervent sun; The silver s.h.i.+ning circlet of the moon;