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 on all. And see! I am no prisoner. Go your way; I am free. By divine command I must remain the guest of the Spaniards yet a little longer, and you must not molest them, for soon they will return whence they came. Alas, my people, my country, my crown!”7
With a heavy sigh, and midst copious tears, his head fell on his breast. The monarch’s strength had indeed departed. The people knew that he spoke falsely, that he was little better than imbecile, unfit to be their sovereign. > Oh, if he but had the good fortune to die while helping them to grind to powder these hated enemies! Only a little while ago his words would have been received as the utterances of a deity. Now the scales had fallen from their eyes, and they saw him as he was. They could bear no more. Jeers and groans reached him from every direction. * “Coward! chicken! Woman to the Spaniards, fit only for the gown and the spindle! Murderer of your nobles!” Such were the cries which now reached his ears as he stood stupefied with agony. Presently came a shower of arrows and stones, and