He saw himself in Rome at night, on his knees in Piazza San Pietro,
between the obelisk and the front of the immense temple, illumined by
the moon. The square was deserted; the noise of the Anio seemed to him
the noise of the fountains. A group of men clad in red, in violet and
in black, issued forth from the door of the temple and stopped on the
steps. They fixed their gaze upon him, pointing with their forefingers
towards Castel Sant' Angelo, as if commanding him to leave the sacred
spot. But now it was no longer the vision, this was a new imagining.
He was standing, straight and bold, before the hostile band. Suddenly
behind him he heard the rumbling of hastening multitudes pouring into
the square in streams from all the adjacent streets. A human wave swept
him along, and, proclaiming him the reformer of the Church, the true
Vicar of Christ, set him upon the threshold of the temple. Here he faced
about, as if ready to affirm his world-wide authority. At that moment
there flashed across his mind the thought of Satan offering the kingdoms
of the world to Christ.
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