by Lew Wallace
CHAPTER II.
A TEZCUCAN LOVER.
Traces of the supper speedily disappeared. The screen was rolled away,and pipes placed in the monarch's hand for distribution amongst hisfamiliars. Blue vapor began to ascend to the carved rafters, when thetapestry on both sides of the room was flung aside, and the sound ofcornets and flutes poured in from an adjoining apartment; and, as ifanswering the summons of the music, a company of dancing-girls entered,and filled the space in front of the monarch; half nude were they, andflashing with ornaments, and aerial with gauze and flying ribbons;silver bells tinkled with each step, and on their heads were wreaths,and in their hands garlands of flowers. Voluptuous children were they ofthe voluptuous valley.
Saluting the monarch, they glided away, and commenced a dance. Withdreamy, half-shut eyes, through the scented cloud momently deepeningaround him, he watched them; and in the sensuous, animated scene wasdisclosed one of the enchantments that had weaned him from the martiallove of his youth.
Every movement of the figure had been carefully studied, and a kind ofaesthetic philosophy was blent with its perfect time and elegance ofmotion. Slow and stately at first, it gradually quickened; then, as ifto excite the blood and fancy, it became more mazy and voluptuous; andfinally, as that is the sweetest song that ends with a long decadence,it was so concluded as to soothe the transports itself had awakened.Sweeping along, it reached a point, a very climax of abandon and beauty,in which the dancers appeared to forget the music and the method of thefigure; then the eyes of the king shone brightly, and the pipe lingeredon his lips forgotten; and then the musicians began, one by one, towithdraw from the harmony, and the dancers to vanish singly from theroom, until, at last, there was but one flute to be heard, while but onegirl remained. Finally, she also disappeared, and all grew still again.
And the king sat silent and listless, surrendered to the enjoyment whichwas the object of the diversion; yet he heard the music; yet he saw thelithe and palpitating forms of the dancers in posture and motion; yet hefelt the sweet influence of their youth and grace and beauty, not as apassion, but rather a spell full of the suggestions of passion, when anumber of men came noiselessly in, and, kneeling, saluted him. Theircostume was that of priests, and each of them carried an instrument ofmusic fashioned somewhat like a Hebrew lyre.
"Ah, my minstrels, my minstrels!" he said, his face flushing withpleasure. "Welcome in the streets, welcome in the camp, welcome in thepalace, also! What have you to-night?"
"When last we were admitted to your presence, O king, you bade uscompose hymns to the god Quetzal'--"
"Yes; I remember."
"We pray you not to think ill of your slaves if we say that the verseswhich come unbidden are the best; no song of the bird's so beautiful asthe one it sings when its heart is full."
The monarch sat up.
"Nay, I did not command. I know something of the spirit of poetry. It isnot a thing to be driven by the will, like a canoe by a strong arm;neither is it a slave, to come or go at a signal. I bid my warriorsmarch; I order the sacrifice; but the lays of my minstrels have everbeen of their free will. Leave me now. To you are my gardens andpalaces. I warrant the verses you have are good; but go ask your heartsfor better."
They retired with their faces toward him until hidden behind thetapestry.
"I love a song, uncles," continued the king; "I love a hymn to the gods,and a story of battle chanted in a deep voice. In the halls of the Sunevery soul is a minstrel, and every tale a song. But let them go; it iswell enough. I promised Iztlil', the Tezcucan, to give him audienceto-night. He comes to the palace but seldom, and he has not asked afavor since I settled his quarrel with the lord Cacama. Send one to seeif he is now at the door."
Thereupon he fell to reflecting and smoking; and when next he spoke, itwas from the midst of an aromatic cloud.
"I loved the wise 'Hualpilli; for his sake, I would have his childrenhappy. He was a lover of peace, and gave more to policy than to war. Itwere grievous to let his city be disturbed by feuds and fighting men;therefore I gave it to the eldest son. His claim was best; and, besides,he has the friendly heart to serve me. Still--still, I wish there hadbeen two Tezcucos."
"There was but one voice about the judgment in Tezcuco, O king; thecitizens all said it was just."
"And they would have said the same if I had given them Iztlil'. I knowthe knaves, uncle. It was not their applause I cared for; but, you see,in gaining a servant, I lost one. Iztlil' is a warrior. Had he the will,he could serve me in the field as well as his brother in the council. Imust attach him to me. A strong arm is pleasant to lean on; it is betterthan a staff."
Addressing himself to the pipe again, he sat smoking, and moodilyobserving the vapor vanish above him. There was silence until Iztlil'was ushered in.
The cacique was still suffering from his wounds. His step was feeble, sothat his obeisance was stopped by the monarch himself.
"Let the salutation go, my lord Iztlil'. Your courage has cost you much.I remember you are the son of my old friend, and bid you welcome."
"The Tlascalans are good warriors," said the Tezcucan, coldly.
"And for that reason better victims," added the king, quickly. "By theSun, I know not what we would do without them. Their hills supply ourtemples."
"And I, good king--I am but a warrior. My heart is not softened bythings pertaining to religion. Enough for me to worship the gods."
"Then you are not a student?"
"I never studied in the academies."
"I understand," said the king, with a low laugh. "You cannot name asmany stars as enemies whom you have slain. No matter. I have places forsuch scholars. Have you commanded an army?"
"It pleased you to give me that confidence. I led my companies withinthe Tlascalan wall, and came back with captives."
"I recollect now. But as most good warriors are modest, my son, I willnot tell you what the chiefs said of your conduct; you would blush--"
Iztlil' started.
"Content you, content you; your blush would not be for shame."
There was a pause, which the king gave to his pipe. Suddenly he said,"There have been tongues busy with your fame, my son. I have heard youwere greatly dissatisfied because I gave your father's city to yourelder brother. But I consider that men are never without detractors, andI cannot forget that you have perilled your life for the gods. ActionsI accept as the proofs of will. If the favor that brought you here bereasonable, it is yours for the asking. I have the wish to serve you."
"I am not surprised that I have enemies," said Iztlil', calmly. "I willabuse no one on that account; for I am an enemy, and can forgive inothers what I deem virtue in myself. But it moves me greatly, O king,that my enemies should steal into your palace, and, in my absence, wrongme in your opinion. But pardon me; I did not come to defend myself--"
"You have taken my words in an evil sense," interposed the king, with animpatient gesture.
"Or to conceal the truth," the Tezcucan continued. "There is kinglyblood in me, and I dare speak as my father's son. So if they said merelythat I was dissatisfied with your judgment, they said truly."
Montezuma frowned.
"I intend my words to be respectful, most mighty king. A common wisdomteaches us to respect the brave man and dread the coward. And there isnot in your garden a flower as beautiful, nor in your power a privilegeas precious, as free speech; and it would sound ill of one so great andsecure as my father's friend if he permitted in the streets and in thefarmer's hut what he forbade in his palace. I spoke of dissatisfaction;but think not it was because you gave Tezcuco to my brother, and to methe bare hills that have scarcely herbage enough for a wolf-covert. I amless a prince than a warrior; all places are alike to me; the earthaffords me royal slumber, while no jewelled canopy is equal to thestarred heavens; and as there is a weakness in pleasant memories, I havenone. To such as I am, O king, what matters a barren hill or a proudpalace? I murmured, nay, I did
more, because, in judging my quarrel, youoverthrew the independence of my country. When my father visited youfrom across the lake, he was not accustomed to stand before you, or hidehis kingly robes beneath a slave's garb."
Montezuma half started from his seat. "Holy gods! Is rebellion so bold?"
"I meant no disrespect, great king. I only sought to justify myself, andin your royal presence say what I have thought while fighting under yourbanner. But, without more abuse of your patience, I will to my purpose,especially as I came for peace and friendship."
"The son of my friend forgets that I have ways to make peace withouttreating for it," said the king.
The Tezcucan smothered an angry reply.
"By service done, I have shown a disposition to serve you, O king. Verysoon every warrior will be needed. A throne may be laid amid hymns andpriestly prayers, yet have no strength; to endure, it must rest upon theallegiance of love. Though I have spoken unpleasant words, I came to askthat, by a simple boon, you give me cause to love. I have reflected thatI, too, am of royal blood, and, as the son of a king, may lead yourarmies, and look for alliance in your house. By marriage, O king, Idesire, come good or evil, to link my fortune to yours."
Montezuma's countenance was stolid; no eye could have detected upon itso much as surprise. He quietly asked, "Which of my daughters has foundfavor in your eyes?"
"They are all beautiful, but only one of them is fitted for a warrior'swife."
"Tula?"
Iztlil' bowed.
"She is dear to me," said the king, softly, "dearer than a city; she isholy as a temple, and lovelier than the morning; her voice is sweet asthe summer wind, and her presence as the summer itself. Have you spokento her of this thing?"
"I love her, so that her love is nothing to me. Her feelings are herown, but she is yours; and you are more powerful to give than she towithhold."
"Well, well," said the monarch, after a little thought; "in my realmthere are none of better quality than the children of 'Hualpilli,--nonefrom whom such demand is as proper. Yet it is worthy deliberation. It istrue, I have the power to bestow, but there are others who have theright to be consulted. I study the happiness of my people, and it wereunnatural if I cared less for that of my children. So leave me now, buttake with you, brave prince, the assurance that I am friendly to yoursuit. The gods go with you!"
And Iztlil', after a low obeisance, withdrew; and then the overture wasfully discussed. Montezuma spoke freely, welcoming the opportunity ofsecuring the bold, free-spoken cacique, and seeing in the demand only aquestion of policy. As might be expected, the ancients made noopposition; they could see no danger in the alliance, and had no carefor the parties. It was policy.