’Hear me, you chiefs and captains of my mother’s race, who am your princess by right of blood, the last of your ancient rulers, and who am moreover the daughter of Montezuma, Emperor of Anahuac, now dead to us but living evermore in the Mansions of the Sun.  First I present to you this my husband, the lord Teule, to whom I was given in marriage when he held the spirit of the god Tezcat, and whom, when he had passed the altar of the god, being chosen by heaven to aid us in our war, I wedded anew after the fashion of the earth, and by the will of my royal brethren.  Know, chiefs and captains, that this lord, my husband, is not of our Indian blood, nor is he altogether of the blood of the Teules with whom we are at war, but rather of that of the true children of Quetzal, the dwellers in a far off northern sea who are foes to the Teules.  And as they are foes, so this my lord is their foe, and as doubtless you have heard, of all the deeds of arms that were wrought upon the night of the slaying of the Teules, none were greater than his, and it was he who first discovered their retreat.

’Chiefs and captains of the great and ancient people of the Otomie, I your princess have been sent to you by Cuitlahua, my king and yours, together with my lord, to plead with you on a certain matter.  Our king has heard, and I also have heard with shame, that many of the warriors of our blood have joined the Tlascalans, who were ever foes to the Aztecs, in their unholy alliance with the Teules.  Now for a while the white men are beaten back, but they have touched the gold they covet, and they will return again like bees to a half-drained flower.  They will return, yet of themselves they can do nothing against the glory of Tenoctitlan.  But how shall it go if with them come thousands and tens of thousands of the Indian peoples?  I know well that now in this time of trouble, when kingdoms crumble, when the air is full of portents, and the very gods seem impotent, there are many who would seize the moment and turn it to their profit.  There are many men and tribes who remember ancient wars and wrongs, and who cry, “Now is the hour of vengeance, now we will think on the widows that the Aztec spears have made, on the tribute which they have wrung from our poverty to swell their wealth, and on the captives who have decked the altars of their sacrifice!”

’Is it not so?  Ay, it is so, and I cannot wonder at it.  Yet I ask you to remember this, that the yoke you would help to set upon the neck of the queen of cities will fit your neck also.  O foolish men, do you think that you shall be spared when by your aid Tenoctitlan is a ruin and the Aztecs are no more a people?  I say to you never.  The sticks that the Teules use to beat out the life of Tenoctitlan shall by them be broken one by one and cast into the fire to burn.  If the Aztecs fall, then early or late every tribe within this wide land shall fall.  They shall be slain, their cities shall be stamped flat, their wealth shall be wrung