Pizarro, far from being embarrassed by the novelty of his situation,
maintained his usual self-possession, and showed that decorum and even
dignity in his address which belong to the Castilian. He spoke in a
simple and respectful style, but with the earnestness and natural
eloquence of one who had been an actor in the scenes he described, and
who was conscious that the impression he made on his audience was to
decide his future destiny. All listened with eagerness to the account of
his strange adventures by sea and land, his wanderings in the forests, or
in the dismal and pestilent swamps on the sea-coast, without food, almost
without raiment, with feet torn and bleeding at every step, with his few
companions becoming still fewer by disease and death, and yet pressing
on with unconquerable spirit to extend the empire of Castile, and the
name and power of her sovereign; but when he painted his lonely
condition on the desolate island, abandoned by the government at home,
deserted by all but a handful of devoted followers, his royal auditor,
though not easily moved, was affected to tears. On his departure from
Toledo, Charles commended the affairs of his vassal in the most
favorable terms to the consideration of the Council of the Indies.1
There was at this time another man at court, who had come there on a
similar errand from the New World, but whose splendid achievements
had already won for him a name that threw the rising reputation of
Pizarro comparatively into the shade.
Pages:
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302