The feelings of Juan Lerma were throughout, strange, bewildering and overwhelming; and he gazed upon the three combats, each fought and finished in an inconceivably short space of time, in a species of trance or stupefaction. Great, and doubtless just, as was his detestation of Guzman, there was something both noble and afflicting in the courage with which the unfortunate man bore himself in the midst of savage foes, who, if they awarded him a shout of approbation for every valiant blow, yet screamed with a more cordial delight, at every wound inflicted by an antagonist. Even while Juan doubted not that Guzman's skill and fortitude would insure him a full triumph, and final liberation, he could not but be struck with horror, at beholding a Christian man bound to a stone, and baited like a muzzled bear. How much more overpowering, then, were his feelings, when he perceived, from the complexion given to events by the last contest, that it must end, and perhaps soon, in the destruction of the prisoner. His emotions became indeed irresistible, when he looked up at the third shout of the multitude,--for he had closed his eyes with dread, while Guzman despatched his third foe,--and saw him, bleeding at three different wounds, and staggering with dizziness, extend his macana, now almost reduced by the fracture of the blades, to a mere bludgeon, towards the king, and exclaim, bitterly and despairingly, "King of Mexico, if thou knowest either honour or God, give me a fresh sword!" His words ran through Juan's spirit like sharp knives, and he was seized with a faintiness, so that he could scarce maintain himself on his feet. But while his brain whirled and his eyes swam, he beheld a fourth warrior spring upon the mound, and, yelling as he rose, dart, without a moment's pause, against the captive. It was now apparent to all, and to none more than the miserable victim himself, that his situation was become wholly desperate. His skill could avail him nothing, while he was so insufficiently armed; his strength was wasting away with his blood; his courage could not long maintain itself against all hope; and even the pride that uplifted him so far above his barbarous antagonists, only exasperated him into frenzy, when he perceived, that, despised as they were, he was in their power, and must soon expire under their blows. His rage was like that of the gallant puma, knotted in the _lazo_ of a hunter, and torn to pieces by dogs, which, were he at liberty, would be but as grass and dust under the might of his talons.