desist from their attacks. The scorned and insulted monarch, plunged into the deepest dejection, at first refused, saying, "I neither desire to hear him, nor to live any longer, since it is on his account I have been reduced to this unhappy fate." But he was at length persuaded to exhibit himself, and, attended by some of the soldiers, he went out upon the terraced roof in sight of his people, below.
As soon as they perceived him, the chief and nobles commanded their troops to refrain from the attack. The tumult ceased, and in silence, many of them on bended knees, the multitude awaited what he had to say. His first utterance, requesting them to disperse and return to their homes and allow the Spaniards egress unmolested from the city, showed them that his heart was still with the hated visitors who had him in their power. He was soon interrupted, and four of the principal nobility, advancing, reproached him with his effeminacy, telling him that they had raised his brother to the throne, that they had promised their gods never to desist until the Spaniards were totally destroyed; but that they prayed daily for his safety, and as soon as they had rescued him they should venerate him as before. They had, however, no sooner finished their speech, than one of the Mexicans, thought to have been a nephew of Montezuma, commenced to revile him, lamenting the misfortunes of his family, and in the heat of his anger let fly an arrow at him. This was but a signal to the populace, who had stood undecided what to do, and immediately their stones and arrows rained like hail about the person of his majesty. Sacred no longer from the attacks of those who had once held him in fear and reverence, and without the protection of the shields of the soldiers, who, now too late, sprang forth to interpose them, Montezuma was wounded. A stone struck him on the
