I go thither and return, in the twinkling of
an eye. I was made an archangel on this very spot, it is five years
ago, by angels sent from heaven to confer that awful dignity. Their
presence filled this place with an intolerable brightness. And they
knelt to me, king! yes, they knelt to me! for I was greater than they.
I have walked in the courts of heaven, and held speech with the
patriarchs. Touch my hand- be not afraid- touch it. There- now thou
hast touched a hand which has been clasped by Abraham, and Isaac,
and Jacob! For I have walked in the golden courts, I have seen the
Deity face to face!' He paused, to give this speech effect; then his
face suddenly changed, and he started to his feet again, saying,
with angry energy, 'Yes, I am an archangel; a mere archangel!- I
that might have been pope! It is verily true. I was told it from
heaven in a dream, twenty years ago; ah, yes, I was to be pope!- and I
should have been pope, for Heaven had said it- but the king
dissolved my religious house, and I, poor obscure unfriended monk, was
cast homeless upon the world, robbed of my mighty destiny!' Here he
began to mumble again, and beat his forehead in futile rage, with
his fist; now and then articulating a venomous curse, and now and then
a pathetic 'Wherefore I am naught but an archangel- I that should have
been pope!'
So he went on for an hour, while the poor little king sat and
suffered. Then all at once the old man's frenzy departed, and he
became all gentleness.
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