Why, then, does the world, precisely now, seem so fair
to me, now, when I know that I must leave it so soon?" And the pope
shed a secret tear while, surrounded by royal splendor, he imparted his
blessing to the thousands who reverently knelt at his feet.
The bells rang, the organ resounded, the wide halls of St. Peter's were
penetrated by the marvellous singing of the Sistine chapel. Thousands
and thousands of wax tapers lighted the noble space of the church,
thousands and thousands of people pressed into the sacred halls. Under
his canopy, opposite the high altar, sat the vicegerent of God upon
his golden throne, surrounded by the consecrated cardinals and bishops,
protected by the Swiss guard! Who could have ventured to attack the holy
father--who would have been so foolhardy as to attempt to penetrate that
thick wall of Swiss guards and princes of the Church--who could have
been successful in such an attempt? No human being! But where the people
could not penetrate, where there was no room for the swinging of a
dagger, there the malignant poison lurked unseen!
Ganganelli sat upon his golden throne, intoxicated by the clang of
the organ and charmed by the singing of the high choir, and the pope,
looking down upon the human crowd, again asked himself: "Who among you
are my murderers?"
The singing ceased, the organ was silent, and only the solemn tones of
all the bells of St.
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