"See, this is my surprise!" said Lorenzo.
Ganganelli stood silent and motionless, with folded hands. A deep
emotion was visible in his gentle mien, and tears rolled slowly down
over his cheeks.
"Well, is it not well copied, and true to nature?" asked Lorenzo, whose
eyes beamed with satisfaction.
"My favorite spot in the garden of the Franciscan convent!" said
Ganganelli in a tone trembling with emotion. "Yes, yes, Lorenzo,
you have represented it exactly, you know well enough what gives me
pleasure! Accept my thanks, my dear good brother."
And, while giving his hand to the monk, his eye wandered with gentle
delight over the place, with its beautiful trees and green reposing
bank, and thoughtfully rested upon each individual object.
"So was it," he murmured low, "precisely so; yes, yes, in this place
have I passed my fairest and most precious hours; what have I not
thought and dreamed as a youth and as a man, how many wishes, how
many hopes have there thrilled my bosom, and how few of them have been
realized!"
"But one thing has been realized," said Lorenzo, "greater than all you
could have dreamed or hoped! Who would ever have thought it possible
that the poor, unknown Franciscan monk would become the greatest and
most sublime prince in the whole world, the father of all Christendom?
That is, indeed, a happiness that brother Clement, upon his grass-bank
in the Franciscan convent, could never have expected!"
"You, then, consider it a happiness," said Ganganelli, slowly letting
himself down upon the grass-bank.
Pages:
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323