“Go tell your master,” he said to the servants, “that I have come to show him his own flesh.”

“What is this?” said Quetzalcoatl, when the message was delivered.  “What does he call my own flesh?  Go and ask him.”

But Tezcatlipoca refused.  “I have not come to see you, but your master,” he said to the servants.  Then he was admitted, and Quetzalcoatl said:—­

“Welcome, youth, you have troubled yourself much.  Whence come you?  What is this, my flesh, that you would show me?”

“My Lord and Priest,” replied the youth, “I come from the mountain-side of Nonoalco.  Look, now, at your flesh; know yourself; see yourself as you are seen of others;” and with that he handed him the mirror.

As soon as Quetzalcoatl saw his face in the mirror he exclaimed:—­

“How is it possible my subjects can look on me without affright?  Well might they flee from me.  How can a man remain among them filled as I am with foul sores, his face wrinkled and his aspect loathsome?  I shall be seen no more; I shall no longer frighten my people.”

Then Tezcatlipoca went away to take counsel, and returning, said:—­

“My lord and master, use the skill of your servant.  I have come to console you.  Go forth to your people.  I will conceal your defects by art.”

“Do what you please,” replied Quetzalcoatl.  “I will see what my fate is to be.”

Tezcatlipoca painted his cheeks green and dyed his lips red.  The forehead he colored yellow, and taking feathers of the quechol bird, he arranged them as a beard.  Quetzalcoatl surveyed himself in the mirror, and rejoiced at his appearance, and forthwith sallied forth to see his people.

Tezcatlipoca withdrew to concoct another scheme of disgrace.  With his attendants he took of the strong pulque which he had brewed, and came again to the palace of the Lord of Tollan.  They were refused admittance and asked their country.  They replied that they were from the Mountain of the Holy Priest, from the Hill of Tollan.  When Quetzalcoatl heard this, he ordered them to be admitted, and asked their business.  They offered him the pulque, but he refused, saying that he was sick, and, moreover, that it would weaken his judgment and might cause his death.  They urged him to dip but the tip of his finger in it to taste it; he complied, but even so little of the magic liquor overthrew his self control, and taking the bowl he quaffed a full draught and was drunk.  Then these perverse men ridiculed him, and cried out:—­

“You feel finely now, my son; sing us a song; sing, worthy priest.”

Thereupon Quetzalcoatl began to sing, as follows:—­

“My pretty house, my coral house,
  I call it Zacuan by name;
And must I leave it, do you say? 
  Oh my, oh me, and ah for shame."[1]

[Footnote 1:  The original is—­

Quetzal, quetzal, no calli,
  Zacuan, no callin tapach
No callin nic yacahuaz
  An ya, an ya, an quilmach.