also was the prayer of the high priest, who, clad in his robes of sable,
seemed like a blot of ink dropped on a glitter of gold. Thus he prayed:

'O god, thou who art everywhere and seest all, knowest that Cuitlahua
our king is gathered to thee. Thou hast set him beneath thy footstool
and there he rests in his rest. He has travelled that road which we must
travel every one, he has reached the royal inhabitations of our dead,
the home of everlasting shadows. There where none shall trouble him he
is sunk in sleep. His brief labours are accomplished, and soiled with
sin and sorrow, he has gone to thee. Thou gavest him joys to taste
but not to drink; the glory of empire passed before his eyes like the
madness of a dream. With tears and with prayers to thee he took up
his load, with happiness he laid it down. Where his forefathers went,
thither he has followed, nor can he return to us. Our fire is an ash and
our lamp is darkness. Those who wore his purple before him bequeathed to
him the intolerable weight of rule, and he in his turn bequeaths it to
another. Truly, he should give thee praise, thou king of kings, master
of the stars, that standest alone, who hast lifted from his shoulders so
great a burden, and from his brow this crown of woes, paying him peace
for war and rest for labour.

'O god our hope, choose now a servant to succeed him, a man after thine
own heart, who shall not fear nor falter, who shall toil and not be
weary, who shall lead thy people as a mother leads her children. Lord of
lords, give grace to Guatemoc thy creature, who is our choice. Seal him
to thy service, and as thy priest let him sit upon thy earthly throne
for his life days. Let thy foes become his footstool, let him exalt thy
glory, proclaim thy worship, and protect thy kingdom. Thus have I prayed
to thee in the name of the nation. O god, thy will be done!'