Without uttering a word, the Pope sighed and raised his hand and his eyes to heaven; then very slowly he lowered his eyes and studied the cross on his bosom attentively. Bonaparte continued to walk round the room and to talk to his captive, his voice becoming sweeter and more wheedling. “Holy Father, were it not for the reverence I have for you I should be inclined to say that you are a little ungrateful. You seem to ignore entirely the services which France has rendered you. As far as I am able to judge, the Council of Venice, which elected you Pope, was influenced somewhat by my campaign in Italy, as well as by a word which I spoke for you. I was very much troubled at the time that Austria treated you so badly. I believe that your Holiness was obliged to return to Rome by sea for fear of passing through Austrian territory.” He stopped for the answer of his silent guest; Pius VII made simply the slightest inclination of the head, and remained plunged in a melancholy reverie which seemed to prevent him from hearing Napoleon. Bonaparte then pushed a chair near to that of the Pope. I started, for in seeking the chair he had come very near my hiding-place, he even brushed the curtains which concealed me. “It was as a Catholic really that I was so afflicted about your vexations. I have never had much time to study theology, it is true, but I maintain a great faith in the Church. She has a wonderful vitality, Holy Father, although Voltaire did you some little harm, certainly. Now if you are only willing we can do a great deal of work together in the future.” He assumed a caressing, wheedling air of innocence. “Really, I have tried to understand your motives, but I can’t for the life of me see what objection you can have to making Paris your seat. I’ll leave the Tuileries to you if you like. You’ll find your room waiting for you there. I scarcely ever go there myself. Don’t you see, Father, it is the capital of the world. I’ll do whatever you want me to; and really, after all, I am not as bad as I am painted. If you’ll leave war and politics to me you may do as you like in ecclesiastical matters. In fact, I would be your soldier. Now wouldn’t that be a grand arrangement? We could hold our councils like Constantine and Charlemagne--I would open and dissolve them; and then I would put the keys of the world into your hands, for as our Lord said: ‘I came with a sword,’ and I would keep the sword; I would only bring it to you for your blessing after each new success of our arms.” The Pope, who until then had remained as motionless as an Egyptian statue, slowly raised his head, smiled sadly, lifted his eyes to heaven, and said, after a gentle sigh, as if he were confiding the thought to his invisible guardian angel: “Commediante!”