"This air refreshes me," said the pope, breathing more freely; "it seems
as if it communicated to my lungs a renewed vital power and caused the
blood to flow more rapidly in my veins. Lorenzo, this is a singularly
fortunate day for me, and I will make the most of it. Come, we will
repair to our Franciscan Place!"
"That is an admirable idea," said Lorenzo, delighted. "If your holiness
can reach it, you will recover your health, and all will again be well."
Ganganelli sighed, and glanced toward heaven with a sad smile.
"Health!" said he. "Ah, Lorenzo, that word reminds me of a lost
paradise. The avenging angel has driven me from it, and I shall never
see it again."
"Say not so!" begged Lorenzo, secretly wiping a tear from his cheek.
"No, say not so, you will certainly recover!"
"Yes, recover!" replied the pope. "For death is a recovery, and in the
end perhaps the most real."
They silently walked on, and making a path through the bushes, they at
length arrived at the place, with the construction of which Lorenzo had
some months before surprised the pope, and which Ganganelli had since
named the "Franciscan Place."
"So," joyfully exclaimed Lorenzo, while the exhausted pope glided down
upon the grass-bank--"so, brother Clement, now let us be cheerful!
You know that here we have nothing more to do with the pope.
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