"You must permit me to think over your proposal, Your Eminence."
Cardinal X. jumped up from his chair and gently touched my shoulder
with two of his aristocratic fingers:
"Oh, I am not hurrying you, my good Mr. Wondergood. It was you who
were hurrying me. I am even convinced that you will at first refuse
me, but when, after some little experience, you will have realized the
real _needs_ of man.... I, too, love man, Mr. Wondergood, to be sure,
not so passionately and...."
He departed with the same grimaces, bearing himself with dignity and
dispensing blessings all about him. I saw him again through the window
at the entrance of the palace, while the coachman was bringing up the
carriage: he was speaking into the ear of one of his abbés, whose face
resembled a black plate. The Cardinal's countenance no longer reminded
me of a monkey: it was rather the face of a shaven, hungry, tired
lion. This able actor needed no dressing room for his make-up! Behind
him stood a tall lackey, all dressed in black, reminding one of an
English baronet. Whenever His Eminence turned about in his direction,
he would respectfully lift his faded silk hat.
* * * * *
Following the departure of His Eminence I was surrounded by a merry
group of friends, with whom I had filled the spare rooms of my
palace for the purpose of alleviating my loneliness and ennui. Toppi
looked proud and happy: he was so satiated with blessings that he
fairly bulged. The artists, decorators and others--whatever you call
them--were greatly impressed by the Cardinal's visit, and spoke with
much glee of the remarkable expression of his face and the grandeur of
his manner! The Pope himself.... But when I remarked with the naïveté
of a Redskin that he reminded me of a monkey, the shrewd canailes
burst into loud laughter and one of them immediately sketched a
portrait of Cardinal X.--in a cage. I am not a moralist to judge other
people for their petty sins: they will get what is due them on their
Judgment Day--and I was much pleased by the cleverness of the laughing
beasts. They do not appear to have much faith in _love_ for one's
_fellow beings_ and if I should rummage about among their drawings, I
would probably find a pretty good sketch of the ass Wondergood. I like
that. I find relief in communion with my little, pleasant sinners,
from the babbling of the great and disagreeable saints...whose hands
are covered with blood.