One of his chief favourites, his fellow sufferer, being overcome by the violence of the anguish, turned a dejected eye towards his master, which seemed to implore his permission to reveal all he knew.

But the high spirited prince darted on him a look of authority mingled with scorn, and checked his weakness by asking, "Am I reposing on a bed of flowers ?" Overawed by the reproach, he persevered in dutiful silence and expired.
Cortes, utterly regardless of what crimes and cruelties he committed, added largely to the Spanish territory and revenue.

But Spain was always ungrateful.

Pizarro was murdered; Columbus died of a broken heart, and Balboa the death of a felon; so what could Cortez expect?
He fell into neglect and poverty when his work was done.

One day he forced his way through the crowd that had collected about the carriage of the sovereign, mounted the door-step, and looked in.