anguished souls. It was rare strategy thus with the offenders to destroy the means of offence. Supposing that the execution was by imperial sanction, the populace tacitly assented, gazing on the horrid spectacle with pallid faces and bated breath. Though accustomed to scenes like this in connection with their religious festivals, it appeared terrible when perpetrated by foreigners, to the dreary sound of muffled drums.21
All being over, Cortés reëntered the apartments of Montezuma with his captains, and kneeling down he himself took off the fetters, declaring that he felt deeply grieved at the infliction, for he loved him as a brother. The monarch became almost hysteric with joy at this deliverance, and with falling tears he expressed himself in abject terms of gratitude, like the dog licking the hand which has chastised it. Every fresh incident reveals some new trait in the character of this unhappy man which calls for pity or contempt.
“Yet further,” continued Cortés, “to show my deep regard and confidence, you are now at full liberty to return to your own house.”
But Montezuma understood well enough that these were but words, an empty offer; indeed he had been informed by the well prompted page that, although the general might wish to release him, the Spanish captains would never permit it.22 He accordingly expressed his thanks, and said that he preferred to remain with him, giving as a reason that, were he free, the importunities of his relatives and nobles to attack the Spaniards might prevail over his friendship for them and their king, and this would entail not only loss of life on both sides, but the ruin of the city.
Thereupon Cortés embraced him with every appearance of deep devotion, and said, “Next to my king you shall be king; vast as are your possessions, I will make you ruler of more and greater provinces.”23