Cort. Wild and untaught are terms which we alone
Invent, for fashions differing from our own;
For all their customs are by nature wrought,
But we, by art, unteach what nature taught.

Piz.  In Spain, our springs, like old men’s children, be
Decayed and withered from their infancy: 
No kindly showers fall on our barren earth,
To hatch the season in a timely birth: 
Our summer such a russet livery wears,
As in a garment often dyed appears.

Cort.  Here nature spreads her fruitful sweetness round,
Breathes on the air, and broods upon the ground: 
Here days and nights the only seasons be;
The sun no climate does so gladly see: 
When forced from hence, to view our parts, he mourns;
Takes little journies, and makes quick returns.

Vasq.  Methinks, we walk in dreams on Fairy-land,
Where golden ore lies mixt with common sand;
Each downfal of a flood, the mountains pour
From their rich bowels, rolls a silver shower.

Cort.  Heaven from all ages wisely did provide
This wealth, and for the bravest nation hide,
Who, with four hundred foot and forty horse,
Dare boldly go a new-found world to force.

Piz.  Our men, though valiant, we should find too few,
But Indians join the Indians to subdue;
Taxallan, shook by Montezuma’s powers,
Has, to resist his forces, called in ours.

Vasq.  Rashly to arm against so great a king,
I hold not safe; nor is it just to bring
A war, without a fair defiance made.

Piz.  Declare we first our quarrel; then invade.

Cort.  Myself, my king’s ambassador, will go; Speak, Indian guide, how far to Mexico?

Ind.  Your eyes can scarce so far a prospect make,
As to discern the city on the lake;
But that broad causeway will direct your way,
And you may reach the town by noon of day.

Cort.  Command a party of our Indians out,
With a strict charge, not to engage, but scout: 
By noble ways we conquest will prepare;
First, offer peace, and, that refused, make war.

 [Exeunt.

SCENE II.—­A Temple.

The High Priest with other Priests.  To them an Indian.

Ind.  Haste, holy priest, it is the king’s command.

High Pr.  When sets he forward?

Ind.  He is near at hand.

High Pr.  The incense is upon the altar placed,
The bloody sacrifice already past;
Five hundred captives saw the rising sun,
Who lost their light, ere half his race was run. 
That which remains we here must celebrate;
Where, far from noise, without the city gate,
The peaceful power that governs love repairs,
To feast upon soft vows and silent prayers. 
We for his royal presence only stay,
To end the rites of this so solemn day.