Montezuma's DaughterHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
History
Montezuma's Daughter
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Mexico -- History -- Conquest, 1519-1540 -- Fiction
“Oh! my people, my people, I beseech of you, make no terms with the
false Teule, but remain bold and free. Your necks are not fitted to the
yoke of the slave, your sons and daughters are of too high a blood to
serve the foreigner in his needs and pleasures. Defy Malinche. Some of
our race are dead, but many thousands remain. Here in your mountain
nest you can beat back every Teule in Anahuac, as in bygone years the
false Tlascalans beat back the Aztecs. Then the Tlascalans were free,
now they are a race of serfs. Say, will you share their serfdom? My
people, my people, think not that I plead for myself, or even for the
husband who is more dear to me than aught save honour. Do you indeed
dream that we will suffer you to hand us living to these dogs of
Tlascalans, whom Malinche insults you by sending as his messengers?
Look,” and she walked to where the spear that had been hurled at her
lay upon the pavement and lifted it, “here is a means of death that
some friend has sent us, and if you will not listen to my pleading you
shall see it used before your eyes. Then, if you will, you may send our
bodies to Malinche as a peace offering. But for your own sakes I plead
with you. Defy Malinche, and if you must die at last, die as free men
and not as the slaves of the Teule. Behold now his tender mercies, and
see the lot that shall be yours if you take another counsel, the
counsel of Maxtla;” and coming to the litter on which I lay, swiftly
Otomie rent my robes from me leaving me almost naked to the waist, and
unwound the bandages from my wounded limb, then lifted me up so that I
rested upon my sound foot.
“Look!” she cried in a piercing voice, and pointing to the scars and
unhealed wounds upon my face and leg; “look on the work of the Teule
and the Tlascalan, see how the foe is dealt with who surrenders to
them. Yield if you will, desert us if you will, but I say that then
your own bodies shall be marked in a like fashion, till not an ounce of
gold is left that can minister to the greed of the Teule, or a man or a
maiden who can labour to satisfy his indolence.”
Then she ceased, and letting me sink gently to the ground, for I could
not stand alone, she stood over me, the spear in her hand, as though
waiting to plunge it to my heart should the people still demand our
surrender to the messengers of Cortes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account