stifled. People were found in different stages of hunger and disease, meeting the soldiers with passive indifference in the recklessness of despair. Beyond on the roofs stalked the warriors, gaunt and yellow, like caged and starving
Cortés felt painfully oppressed on beholding so much misery, and at once ordering a stay of hostilities he sent some captive chiefs to Quauhtemotzin with peace proposals, showing the utter futility of further resistance, which could involve only a needless infliction of suffering and slaughter, and embitter against him and his the besieging forces.
He was prepared to forget all past animosity, and respect the persons and property of the besieged, and his rights as sovereign, and demanded in return only the renewal of allegiance already offered in Montezuma’s time.
Quauhtemotzin scarcely gave the messengers time to speak, before he answered solemnly:
“Tell Malinche that I and mine elect to die. We will intrust ourselves neither to the men who commit, nor to the God who permits, such atrocities!”
Struck by the lofty bearing of the doomed, and desirous of securing the treasure which the besieged assured him would all be cast into the water before his fingers should touch it, Cortés again sent a proposal, formally attested by notary and witnesses, declaring that the responsibility for the terrible consequences which must follow the rejection of his offer would fall wholly on the besieged. But all without avail. And when the priests came and declared the oracle, “Appeased by sacrifice the gods have promised victory after three days,” Quauhtemotzin made answer, his council being present: