"But that is exactly what you do," gently replied Ganganelli. "All the
streets of Rome bear witness to it. Did you not yesterday, in one of
those streets, with force and arms rescue a bandit from the hands of
justice, and with your murderous dagger take the life of the servant of
the law?"
"They wanted to lead one of my servants to death, who had done nothing
more than obey my commands," vehemently responded the cardinal. "I
liberated him from their hands as was natural; and if some of the
sbirri were killed in the encounter, that was their fault. Why did
they not voluntarily give up their prisoner and then run away?"
"And was it really your command that this bandit fulfilled?" asked the
pope, shuddering. "You know he killed a young nobleman, the pride and
hope of his family, and was caught in the act, which he did not attempt
to deny?"
"That young nobleman had mocked and made a laughing-stock of me in a
public company," calmly replied the cardinal; "hence it was natural that
he must die. Revenge is the first duty of man, and whoever neglects to
take it is dishonored!"
"And such men dare to call themselves Christians!" exclaimed Ganganelli,
with uplifted arms--"and such men call themselves priests of the
religion of love!"
"I am a priest of love!" said Albani.
"But of what love?" responded the pope, with an appearance of
agitation--"the priest of a wild, beastly passion, of a rough animal
inclination. You know nothing of the soft and silent love that ennobles
the heart and strengthens it for holy resolutions; which inculcates
virtue and decency, and lifts up the eyes to heaven--of that love
which is full of consolation and blessed hope, and desires nothing for
itself."
"God save me from such a love!" said the cardinal, crossing himself.
"When I love, I desire much, and of virtue and perfection there is,
thank God, no question."
"Repent, amend, Francesco," said the pope. "I promised your uncle, the
very worthy Cardinal Alessandro Albani, once more to attempt the course
of mildness, and exhort you to return to the path of virtue. Ah, could
you have seen the poor old man, with tears streaming from his blind
eyes--tears of sorrow for you, whom he called his lost son!"
"My uncle did very wrong so to weep," said the cardinal. "Blind as he
was he yet kept a mistress. How, then, can he wonder that I, who can
see, kept several? Two eyes see more than none; that is natural!"
"But do you, then, so wholly forget your solemn oath of chastity and
virtue?" excitedly exclaimed the pope. "Look upon the cross that covers
your breast, and fall upon your knees to implore the pardon of God."
"This cross was laid upon my breast when I was yet a boy," gloomily
responded the cardinal; "the fetters were attached to me before I had
the strength to rend them; my will was not asked when this stone was
laid upon my breast! Now I ask not about your will when I seek, under
this weight, to breathe freely as a man! And, thank God, this weight has
not crushed my heart--my heart, that yet glows with youthful freshness,
and in which love has found a lurking-hole which your cross cannot fill
up. And in this lurking-hole now dwells a charming, a wonderful woman,
whom Rome calls the queen of song, and whom I call the queen of beauty
and love! All the world adjudges her the crown of poesy, and only you
refuse it to her."