Page 285 - Revelation

Svetlana de Rohan-Levashova. Revelation

it seemed that right now the door would open and smiling Girolamo would appear on
the threshold and enthusiastically begin to tell the latest news of the day... Or merry
Anna would rush in like a whirlwind, pouring an armful of roses onto my knees,
exhaling the smell of delightful warm Italian summer. It was OUR happy world which
should not be in Caraffa’s castle! There should not be a place for it in this den of lies,
violence and death.

But no matter how indignant I felt, I needed to regain my self-control, calm my
thumping heart and banish the anguish about the past from it, because recollections,
even the most wonderful ones, could easily shatter my life, now fragile enough,
preventing me from doing away with Caraffa. Therefore I turned and left the room,
trying to "protect" myself from very dear but at the same time deeply soul-wounding
memories... There was nobody in the corridor. Apparently Caraffa was so sure of his
victory that he had not left guards at the door of "my" appartments, or on the contrary
– he understood too well that there was no sense in doing so, because I could leave him
any moment I wished, despite any efforts and prohibitions on his part. One way or
another, there was no stranger presence or any guard at "my" door.
Anguish throttled me, and I was eager to run wherever my feet would carry me to
be as far as possible from that wonderful ghostly world where each recollection took a
bit of my soul, every time making it emptier, colder and lonlier...

I was gradually coming to myself after the shock caused by the unexpected
"surprise", as I realized that it was the first time that I had walked alone along the
fabulously decorated corridor, disregarding the unbelievable luxury and riches of
Caraffa’s palace. Earlier I had been given the opportunity only to go down to the
basement or accompany Caraffa to some of his meetings, and now I observed with
surprise the amazing paintings which covered the endless gilded walls and ceiling. It was
neither Vatican, nor official Papal residence. It was Caraffa’s private palace in which
beauty and luxury did not yield, even to the very Vatican.
Once, at a time when Caraffa was not the "holiest" Pope yet but a fervent fighter
with the "spreading heresy", his house looked like an enormous fortress of an ascetic,
which truly gave his life for the "right cause", no matter how absurd or terrible it may
seem to others. Now it was the richest man who "partook", with the pleasure of a
gourmet, in his limitless power... too quickly changing the way of life of a true "monk"
for the easy gold of the Vatican. He still piously believed in the rightness of the
Inquisition and human fires, only now they were diluted by the thirst for the pleasures
of life and his wild desire to attain immortality ... which no gold in the world could buy
for him (luckily for all!).

Caraffa suffered... His temporally lasting splendid "youth" which was given to
him by a strange "guest" of Meteora suddenly began to fade swiftly and his body was
getting older much quicker than it would be if he had not tried the deceitful "gift".
The recently smart, slender and young-looking cardinal turned into a stooping
and wilted old man. His personal "bunch" of doctors panicked! They honestly racked
their clever brains, trying to figure out what was that "dreadful" disease that devoured
their dearest "Holiness". But they could not find an answer and Caraffa rapidly got
older before their very eyes. It enraged him, making him do the most foolish acts in the

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