What were thy horrors when the fatal vase
Past to thy trial, . . when Tezozomoc
Fixed his keen eye on thee! A deathiness
Came over her,.. her blood ran back,
Shook like the palsy, and the dreadful
Dropt from her conscious hold. The Priest exclaim'd,
The hand of God! the avenger manifest!
Drag her to the altar!.. At that sound of death
The life forsook her limbs, and down she fell,
Senseless. They dragg'd her to the Stone of Blood,
All senseless as she lay ; . . in that dread hour
Nature was kind.
Bring forth the kindred of this wretch accurst,
That none pollute the earth! An aged Priest
Came forth and answered, There is none but I,
The father of the dead.
Exclaim'd Tezozomoc; to death with him;
And purify the nation!.. But the King Permitted not that crime... Chief of the Priests,
If he be guilty, let the guilty bleed,
Said he; but never, while I live and reign,
The innocent shall suffer. Hear him speak!
Hear me the old man replied. That fatal day
I never saw my child. At morn she left
The city, seeking flowers to dress the shrine
Of Coatlantona; and that at eve
I stood among the Pabas in the gate,
Blessing our soldiers, as they issued out,
Let them who saw bear witness... Two came forth, And testified Aculhua spake the words
Full well I know, the old man pursued, My daughter loved the Strangers,.. that her heart Was not with Aztlan; but not I the cause!
Ye all remember how the Maid was given, . .
She being, in truth, of all our Maids the flower, . .
In spousals to Lincoya, him who fled
From sacrifice. It was a misery
For me to see my only child condemn'd
In early widowhood to waste her youth, .
My only and my beautifullest girl!
Chief of the Priests, you order'd; I obeyed.
Not mine the fault, if when Lincoya fled,
And fought among the enemies, her heart
Was with her husband.
He shall not die! Yuhidthiton exclaim'd.
Nay, King Yuhidthiton! Aculhua cried,
I merit death. My country overthrown,
My daughter slain, alike demand on me
That justice. When her years of ministry
Vow'd to the temple had expired, my love,
My selfish love, still suffer'd her to give
Her youth to me, by filial piety
In widowhood detain'd. That selfish crime
Heavily,.. heavily,.. do I expiate!
But I am old; and she was all to me.
O King Yuhidthiton, I ask for death;
In mercy, let me die! cruel it were
To bid me waste away alone in age,
By the slow pain of grief. . . Give me the knife
Which pierced my daughter's bosom !
The old man
Moved to the altar; none opposed his way;
With a firm hand he buried in his heart
The reeking flint, and fell upon his child.
A TRANSITORY gloom that sight of death
Impress'd upon the assembled multitude;
But soon the brute and unreflecting crew
Turn'd to their sports. Some bare their olive limbs,
And in the race contend; with hopes and fears
Which rouse to rage, some urge the mimic war.
Here one upon his ample shoulders bears
A comrade's weight, upon whose head a third
Stands poised, like Mercury in act to fly.
Two others balance here on their shoulders
A bifork'd beam, while on its height a third
To nimble cadence shifts his glancing feet,
And shakes a plume aloft, and wheels around
A wreath of bells with modulating sway.
Here round a lofty mast the dancers move
Quick, to quick music; from its top affix'd,
Each holds a coloured cord, and as they weave
The complex crossings of the mazy dance,
The checquer'd network twists around the tree
Its intertexture of harmonious hues.
But now a shout went forth, the Flyers mount, And from all meaner sports the multitude Flock to their favourite pastime. In the ground,
Branchless and bark'd, the trunk of some tall pine
Is planted; near its summit a square frame;
Four cords pass through the perforated square,
And fifty times and twice around the tree,
A mystic number, are entwined above.
Four Aztecas, equipp'd with wings, ascend,
And round them bind the ropes; anon they wave
Their pinions, and upborn on spreading plumes
Launch on the air, and wheel in circling flight,
The lengthening cords untwisting as they fly.
A fifth above, upon the perilous point
Dances, and shakes a flag; and on the frame,
Others the while maintain their giddy stand,
Till now, with many a round, the wheeling cords
Draw near their utmost length, and toward the ground
The aërial circlers speed; then down the ropes
They spring, and on their way from line to line
Pass, while the shouting multitude endure
A shuddering admiration.
Their feelings center'd in the joy of sight,
The multitude stood gazing, when a man,
Breathless, and with broad eyes, came running on,
His pale lips trembling, and his bloodless cheek
Like one who meets a lion in his path.
The fire! the fire! the temple! he exclaim'd;
Mexitli!.. They, astonish'd at his words,
Hasten toward the wonder, and behold!
The inner fane is sheeted white with fire.
Dumb with affright they stood; the enquiring King Look'd to Tezozomoc; the Priest replied,
I go! the Gods protect me; . . and therewith
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