The Daughter of an Empress
Page 220And Ganganelli's eyes flashed, his sunken cheeks were feverishly
flushed, while he was thus speaking. Lorenzo observed it with anxious
eyes; and when the pope made a momentary pause, he said: "You are again
altogether the good and brave brother Clement, but even he should think
about sparing himself!"
"And to what end should he spare himself?" excitedly exclaimed
Ganganelli; "Death sits within me and laughs to scorn all my efforts,
burying himself deeper and deeper in my inward life. You must know,
Lorenzo, that my cause of sorrow is precisely this, that I now live in
vain, and that I cannot finish what I began! I wished to make my people
happy and free; that was what alarmed all these princes, that was an
whispered to each other, 'He will betray to mankind that they have
rights of which we have robbed them. He wishes to give back to mankind
his inherited portion of the booty! But what will then become of us?
Will not our slaves rise up against us, demanding their human rights? We
cannot suffer such innovations, for they involve our destruction!' Thus
have they cried, and in their anxiety they have decided upon my death!
Then they threw me in a crumb exactly suited to my dreams of improving
the happiness of the people; they all consented that I should relieve
mankind from that dangerous tapeworm, Jesuitism, and with secret
laughter thought, 'It will be the death of him!' And they were right,
order of Jesuits--in consequence of which I shall die--but the Jesuits
will live, and live forever!"
The echo of approaching footsteps was now heard, and, sinking with
fatigue, he directed Lorenzo to go and meet the intruder, and by no
means to let any one penetrate to him.
Returning alone, Lorenzo handed the pope a letter.
"The courier whom you sent out some days since has returned," said he.
"This is his dispatch."
Taking the letter, with a sad smile, the pope weighed it in his hand.
"How light is this little sheet," said he, "and yet how heavy are its
"How can I? A poor cloister brother is not all-knowing!"
"This letter," said the pope, with solemnity, "Brings me life or death.
It is the answer of the learned physician, Professor Brunelli, of
Bologna!"
"You have written to him?" asked Lorenzo, turning pale.
"I wrote him, particularly describing my condition and sufferings; in
God's name I conjured him to tell me the truth, and Brunelli is a man of
honor; he will do it! Am I right, therefore, in saying that the contents
of this letter are very heavy?"