Thirty-Eight: Of the Rings of Lazarus, and of the Bathers

A large friar and a short-haired girl enter the papal feast with Avignon’s poor. As the sun sets, the gates open and speeches precede the meal. Two terrified Jews break in, reporting a “monster made of men” destroying the ghetto. The pope orders a small detachment to investigate; Cardinal Cyriac assures the crowd that church soldiers will confront the Devil. Music swells, masking distant screams, and the feast advances.

Amid the press, the friar waits while the girl, Delphine, slips away into the papal gardens and then a tower door that yields to her kiss. In the wine store, she searches tun by tun, guided by unseen voices, until she finds one laid down in August. Straining against weakness, she pries off the lid and whispers, “Rise.” After ominous ripples, a waxen, ringed hand emerges.

The narrative flashes back to August: Pope Clement (Pierre Roger), stifled by prescribed braziers, retreats to his cooler study after a tryst with his niece-by-marriage, Célèste. There, frescoed cherubic “bathers” animate, suffocate, and violate him, freezing his limbs and drowning his breath, killing him with supernatural, childlike cruelty.

Back in the cellar, Delphine grips the risen hand, fearing it might come apart. The corpse heaves, spills dark wine, and his features knit back into a living face. Clement, naked and shuddering, gasps out, “I was in Hell.” Delphine answers that they still are; she adds that an angel is present and more are coming, warning that war accompanies them.

Above, the feast continues under music while soldiers march toward the ghetto’s distress. Below, the true Clement has been restored, revealing that the papacy’s figurehead at table is not what it seems, and setting the stage for a confrontation with inhuman powers already at work in Avignon.