There it stood a giant and awakened corpse, its white wrappings stained
with blood, and we trembled to see it.
For a while the wraith remained thus gazing towards the city of
Tenoctitlan, then suddenly it threw its vast arms upward as though in
grief, and at that moment the night rushed in upon it and covered it,
while the sound of wailing died slowly away.
'Say, Teule,' gasped the emperor, 'do I not well to be afraid when such
portents as these meet my eyes day by day? Hearken to the lamentations
in the city; we have not seen this sight alone. Listen how the people
cry aloud with fear and the priests beat their drums to avert the omen.
Weep on, ye people, and ye priests pray and do sacrifice; it is very
fitting, for the day of your doom is upon you. O Tenoctitlan, queen of
cities, I see you ruined and desolate, your palaces blackened with fire,
your temples desecrated, your pleasant gardens a wilderness. I see your
highborn women the wantons of stranger lords, and your princes their
servants; the canals run red with the blood of your children, your
gateways are blocked with their bones. Death is about you everywhere,
dishonour is your daily bread, desolation is your portion. Farewell
to you, queen of the cities, cradle of my forefathers in which I was
nursed!'
Thus Montezuma lamented in the darkness, and as he cried aloud the great
moon rose over the edge of the world and poured its level light through
the boughs of the cedars clothed in their ghostly robe of moss.
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