"Oh ancient man," answered the king, "I do not want to drink it."

"Drink it, my lord," insisted the old man, "for if you do not drink it
now, later you will long for it; at least, lift it to your mouth and taste
a single drop."

Quetzalcoatl took the drop and tasted it, and then quaffed the liquor,
exclaiming:--

"What is this? It seems something very healthful and well-flavored. I am
no longer sick. It has cured me. I am well."

"Drink again," said the old man. "It is a good medicine, and you will be
healthier than ever."

Again did Quetzalcoatl drink, and soon he was intoxicated. He began to
weep; his heart was stirred, and his mind turned toward the suggestion of
his departure, nor did the deceit of the old sorcerer permit him to
abandon the thought of it. The medicine which Quetzalcoatl drank was the
white wine of the country, made of those magueys call _teometl_.[1]

[Footnote 1: From _teotl_, deity, divine, and _metl_, the maguey. Of the
twenty-nine varieties of the maguey, now described in Mexico, none bears
this name; but Hernandez speaks of it, and says it was so called because
there was a superstition that a person soon to die could not hold a branch
of it; but if he was to recover, or escape an impending danger, he could
hold it with ease and feel the better for it. See Nieremberg, _Historia
Naturae_, Lib. xiv, cap. xxxii. "Teomatl, vitae et mortis Index."]

This was but the beginning of the guiles and juggleries of Tezcatlipoca.