Death of Pizarro
me!” And with these words he rushed forth into the square shouting, “Death to the tyrant! Death, death to the tyrant!” The men followed, others joined the party, and together they rushed to Pizarro’s house. In through the courtyard, through the door, up the great staircase, straight to Pizarro’s room rushed the excited band. Pizarro’s servants were now up in arms; and, rushing upon the conspirators, a fierce hand-tohand struggle followed. Pizarro, hearing the commotion, boldly stepped into the midst of the combat. Before the conspirators even knew of his presence, he was dealing deadly blows on every side. Like a tiger he fought, and, old as he was, he drove back his assailants with his fierce blows. “Vile traitors!” cried he, as they fell stricken to the earth by his sweeping sabre, “Do you think to murder me in my own house? Down with you! Down with you!” For a moment his assailants were stunned. About him lay already many of the conspirators writhing in the agony of death. “Upon him! Upon him! Cowards, all of us! We are here to kill the tyrant! The tyrant! The tyrant!” cried the leader, gathering himself for a fresh attack. At this they closed around Pizarro, and five swords were plunged into his body. With a groan he fell, the blood spurting from his wounds. One more plunge of the swords, and with a shudder 199