"Has she not a little sick babe by her side? and are they not very wretched?" said Guatimozin, exposing, without reserve, the miseries preying upon his own bosom, and abandoning himself to a grief that seemed to mock the greatness of his station. "When I look upon them," he said, "I am no longer the king who thinks of Mexico and the people, but a man with a base heart, who cries, 'Why am not I a prisoner and a slave, that my little child may be saved, and his mother protected from the famine that is coming?' The king should not think these things,--he should not look upon his household, but his country." "Go, notwithstanding," said Juan, touched still further by the distresses of the infidel. "Comfort them with your presence, and let their sufferings admonish you of the only way to end them. It is not too late to submit." "Is this the way my brother begins the duties of a Mexican?" said Guatimozin. "The gods tell me to die, not yield. I fight for Mexico,--not for the wife and child of Guatimozin." With these words, and having banished all traces of weakness and repining, he left Juan to slumber, or to weigh, in painful anticipation, the risks and uncertainties of his projected enterprise. CHAPTER XII. As Guatimozin had confessed to Juan Lerma, the three suburbs of the causeways were already demolished, and their ruined walls, battered by cannon and blackened by smoke, peered over the lake, along the causeways, in melancholy ruins. The hand of desolation had extended still further; at least, in the quarter that was pierced by the dike of Iztapalapan. Here Cortes commanding in person, and fighting every day at the head of his army, he had infected the whole division with a share of his own energy. While Alvarado and Sandoval were contending for a foothold on the very borders of the city, he had already penetrated it to the distance of half a mile, destroying many houses, though without being able to effect a secure and permanent lodgment upon any portion of the island.