.
Читать онлайн книгу.
there will be combat in Tenochtitlan; but in the midst of the rejoicing I will land on the sea-shore, and end the days of Azatlan forever.”
“Forever!” said the unhappy monarch. “No, no! Read the next writing.”
“There is no other; this is the last.”
The eastern, southern, and western walls had been successively passed, and interpreted. Now the king turned to the northern wall: it was blank! His eyes flashed, and he almost shouted,—
“Liar! Quetzal’ may come to-morrow, but it will be as friend. There is no curse!”
The paba humbled himself before the speaker, and said, slowly and tearfully, “The wise king is blinded by his hope. When Quetzal’ finished this chapter, his task was done; he had recorded the last day of perfect glory, and ceased to write because, Azatlan being now to perish, there was nothing more to record. O unhappy king! that is the curse, and it needed no writing!”
Montezuma shook with passion.
“Lead me hence, lead me hence!” he cried. “I will watch; and if Quetzal’ comes not on the morrow,—comes not during the celebration,—I swear to level this temple, and let the lake into its chambers! And you, paba though you be, I will drown you like a slave! Lead on!”
Mualox obeyed without a word. Lamp in hand, he led his visitors from the splendid chamber up to the azoteas of the ancient house. As they descended the eastern steps, he knelt, and kissed the pavement.
CHAPTER VIII.
A BUSINESS MAN IN TENOCHTITLAN
Xoli, the Chalcan, was supposed to be the richest citizen, exclusive of the nobles, in Tenochtitlan. Amongst other properties, he owned a house on the eastern side of the Tlateloco tianguez, or market-place; which, whether considered architecturally, or with reference to the business to which it was devoted, or as the device of an unassoilzied heathen, was certainly very remarkable. Its portico had six great columns of white marble alternating six others of green porphyry, with a roof guarded by a parapet intricately and tastefully carved; while cushioned lounges, heavy curtains festooned and flashing with cochineal, and a fountain of water pure enough for the draught of a king, all within the columns, perfected it as a retreat from the sultry summer sun.
The house thus elegantly garnished was not a meson, or a café, or a theatre, or a broker’s office; but rather a combination of them all, and therefore divided into many apartments; of which one was for the sale of beverages favorite among the wealthy and noble Aztecs,—Bacchic inventions, with pulque for chief staple, since it had the sanction of antiquity and was mildly intoxicating; another was a restaurant, where the cuisine was only excelled at the royal table; indeed, there was a story abroad that the king had several times borrowed the services of the Chalcan’s artistes; but, whether derived from the master or his slaves, the shrewd reader will conclude from it, that the science of advertising was known and practised as well in Tenochtitlan as in Madrid. Nor were those all. Under the same roof were rooms for the amusement of patrons,—for reading, smoking, and games; one in especial for a play of hazard called totoloque, then very popular, because a passion of Montezuma’s. Finally, as entertainments not prohibited by the teotuctli, a signal would, at any time, summon a minstrel, a juggler, or a dancing-girl. Hardly need I say that the establishment was successful. Always ringing with music, and of nights always resplendent with lamps, it was always overflowing with custom.
“So old Tepaja wanted you to be a merchant,” said the Chalcan, in his full, round voice, as, comfortably seated under the curtains of his portico, he smoked his pipe, and talked with our young friend, the Tihuancan.
“Yes. Now that he is old, he thinks war dangerous.”
“You mistake him, boy. He merely thinks with me, that there is something more real in wealth and many slaves. As he has grown older, he has grown wiser.”
“As you will. I could not be a merchant.”
“Whom did you think of serving?”
“The ’tzin Guatamo.”23
“I know him. He comes to my portico sometimes, but not to borrow money. You see, I frequently act as broker, and take deposits from the merchants and securities from the spendthrift nobles; he, however, has no vices. When not with the army, he passes the time in study; though they do say he goes a great deal to the palace to make love to the princess. And now that I reflect, I doubt if you can get place with him.”
“Why so?”
“Well, he keeps no idle train, and the time is very quiet. If he were going to the frontier it would be different.”
“Indeed!”
“You see, boy, he is the bravest man and best fighter in the army; and the sensible fellows of moderate skill and ambition have no fancy for the hot place in a fight, which is generally where he is.”
“The discredit is not to him, by Our Mother!” said Hualpa, laughing.
The broker stopped to cherish the fire in his pipe,—an act which the inexperienced consider wholly incompatible with the profound reflection he certainly indulged. When next he spoke, it was with smoke wreathing his round face, as white clouds sometimes wreathe the full moon.
“About an hour ago a fellow came here, and said he had heard that Iztlil’, the Tezcucan, had challenged the ’tzin to go into the arena with him to-morrow. Not a bad thing for the god Quetzal’, if all I hear be true!”
Again the pipe, and then the continuation.
“You see, when the combat was determined on, there happened to be in the temples two Othmies and two Tlascalans, warriors of very great report. As soon as it became known that, by the king’s choice, they were the challengers, the young fellows about the palace shunned the sport, and there was danger that the god would find himself without a champion. To avoid such a disgrace, the ’tzin was coming here to-night to hang his shield in the portico. If he and the Tezcucan both take up the fight, it will be a great day indeed.”
The silence that ensued was broken by the hunter, whom the gossip had plunged into revery.
“I pray your pardon, Xoli; but you said, I think, that the lords hang back from the danger. Can any one volunteer?”
“Certainly; any one who is a warrior, and is in time. Are you of that mind?”
The Chalcan took down the pipe, and looked at him earnestly.
“If I had the arms—”
“But you know nothing about it,—not even how such combats are conducted!”
The broker was now astonished.
“Listen to me,” he said. “These combats are always in honor of some one or more of the Aztecan gods,—generally of Huitzil’, god of war. They used to be very simple affairs. A small platform of stone, of the height of a man, was put up in the midst of the tianguez, so as to be seen by the people standing around; and upon it, in pairs, the champions fought their duels. This, however, was too plain to suit the tastes of the last Montezuma; and he changed the ceremony into a spectacle really honorable and great. Now, the arena is first prepared,—a central space in a great many rows of seats erected so as to rise one above the other. At the proper time, the people, the priests, and the soldiers go in and take possession of their allotted places. Some time previous, the quarters of the prisoners taken in battle are examined and two or more of the best of the warriors found there are chosen by the king, and put in training for the occasion. They are treated fairly, and are told that, if they fight and win, they shall be crowned as heroes, and returned to their tribes. No need, I think, to tell you how brave men fight when stimulated by hope of glory and hope of life. When chosen, their names are published, and their shields hung up in a portico on the other side of the square yonder; after which they are understood to be the challengers of any equal number of warriors who dare become champions of the god or gods in whose honor the celebration is had. Think of the approved skill and valor of the foe; think of the thousands who will be present; think of your own inexperience in war,