The church was filled to overflowing. Pascal offered up the holy sacrifice, upon the tomb of the blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, in the presence of those who, instead of discharging the functions of their sacred ministry, had entered God's sanctuary like thieves and robbers. The people often have singular presentiments, and scarcely had Pascal mounted the steps of the altar, when a murmur of discontent broke out. For a moment a riot seemed imminent, and many of the spectators endeavored to leave the church, through dread of some violence to the Antipope, the Emperor, and the schismatical bishops. During the ceremony, Frederic knelt devoutly, and Beatrice took her place by the side of her husband. At the conclusion of the Mass, Frederic ascended his throne, and Pascal seated himself in the pontifical chair, which was placed opposite. The Emperor wore the Imperial crown, in his right hand he held the sceptre, in his left the globe. In the space between the two thrones knelt the bishops, all of whom rose when Rinaldo proceeded to the altar to read aloud the formula, by which the clergy were to swear allegiance to Pascal as lawful Pope. The organ and the solemn chants ceased; and Rinaldo's voice resounded through the church, while the people looked on with sullen interest. The hands were raised, the oath administered, and then each in turn approached the Emperor's throne to pledge him his obedience. On the first step they bowed respectfully, on the second they knelt before the monarch and kissed the hand which held the sceptre; then they moved towards the altar, knelt before Pascal and kissed his pastoral ring, in token of submission. Meanwhile the organ broke out into a joyful strain, and the choir sang, but the melody found no echo in the hearts of the Romans. The conviction that the schismatic Pascal was a mere tool of the Emperor, and that this assembly was composed of bishops who were aliens to the Church, wounded all their preconceived ideas. They feared lest the vengeance of God should come to punish this usurpation of Saint Peter's chair. Many again tried to leave the church, but the crowd without choked up all egress. The Emperor placed his right hand (which had borne the sceptre) upon his knee, and each bishop kissed it as he passed, but he scarcely perceived their presence. His haughty soul was floating in an ocean of gratified pride. At last he was seated in that place which Alexander once had occupied, and where his predecessors used to receive the homage of Christendom. What a change! Alexander was a helpless fugitive, and Pascal was his creature, his puppet; he himself was the real _Pontifex Maximus_. Absolute master of Church and State, he was at last at the pinnacle of greatness; success had crowned his efforts; all Christendom was his vassal. He glanced towards the kneeling bishops, and then his eyes turned to the crowd as if he could no longer delay the moment when they too should swear him their allegiance.