The Family - Mario Puzo [92]
This was going in the direction that Cesare had hoped. He had shown clearly and deliberately to his father that he was a soldier, not a priest. He considered his answer carefully. The Pope must trust him absolutely. Cesare knew that his father did not love him as much as he had loved Juan, but he was certain of his father’s love in some measure. He knew also that he must be wary of his father’s cunning, a weapon used on even the most loved or worshipped. And so Cesare felt compelled to guard his most terrible secrets.
“Father,” he said finally, “I must confess that I have too many unholy appetites to serve the church as you wish. And I do not wish to damn my soul to hell.”
Alexander raised himself up on the divan so that he could look directly into Cesare’s eyes. “I was much like you when I was young,” he said. “Nobody dreamed I would become a Pope. But I labored for forty years and I became a better man, and a better priest. The same could happen to you.”
“I do not desire it,” Cesare said quietly.
“Why not?” Alexander asked. “You love power; you love money. In this world, men must work to survive. And with your gifts you can raise the church to its proper eminence.” He paused for a moment. “Is there some great crime on your conscience that makes you believe that you cannot serve the church?”
In that moment, Cesare divined everything. His father wanted him to confess to the truth about his carnal relationship with Lucrezia. But if he confessed, he knew his father would never forgive him. Though he found it difficult to conceal the truth, Cesare realized that his father wanted to be lied to, but in a convincing fashion.
“Yes,” Cesare said. “There is a great crime. But if I confess it you will condemn me in your heart.”
Alexander leaned forward. His eyes were hard, piercing, with nothing in them of forgiveness. At that moment, though Cesare was sure his father guessed that he had remained Lucrezia’s lover for all these years, he could not help but feel a surge of triumph at outwitting him.
“There is nothing that God will not forgive,”Alexander said.
Cesare spoke softly, for he knew the impact his words would have. “I do not believe in a God. I do not believe in Christ, the Virgin Mary, or any of the saints.”
Alexander seemed amazed for a moment, then recovered. “Many sinners say that because they fear punishment after death,” he said. “So they try to renounce truth. Is there anything else?”
Cesare couldn’t restrain his smile. “Yes. Fornication. Love of power. Murder, but only of dangerous enemies. Telling lies. But you already know them all. There is nothing else for me to confess.”
Alexander took Cesare’s hands in his. And studied them carefully. “Listen, my son,” he said. “Men lose their faith; when the cruelties of this world become too much for them, they question an everlasting and loving God. They question his infinite mercy. They question the Holy Church. But faith must be revived with action. Even the saints themselves were persons of action. I think nothing of those holy men who scourge themselves and ponder the mysterious ways of mankind for scores of years while they live in their monasteries. They do nothing for the living church; they will not help it to endure in this temporal world. It is men like you, and myself, who must do our own particular duty. Even though,” and here Alexander raised a commanding papal finger, “our souls may rest for a time in purgatory. Think how many souls of Christians yet unborn we will save in the next hundreds of years. Those who will find salvation in a strong Holy Catholic Church. When I say my prayers, when I confess my sins, that is my consolation for some of the things I have done. It does not matter that our humanists—those believers in the Greek philosophers—believe that mankind is all that exists. There is an Almighty God, and he is merciful and he is understanding.