“Heavy is the head that wears the crown!” – W. Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part Two, Act 3, Scene 1
Francis’s papacy is now in its last scenes, and sooner or later the curtain is expected to fall to bring this Tragedy to an end. In the meantime, we watch the unfolding of a plot which, fatally, is treading down in its advance Francis himself, his collaborators, and the life of the Universal Church, under its weight of madness, evil and folly. To paraphrase the Swan of Avon, this is a tale acted out by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
“Macbeth, thou shalt be king.”
The worst punishment that could have been thought of for a person like Bergoglio was the full attainment of his ambitions. Step by step, betrayal by betrayal, rung by rung, he climbed the ladder of ecclesiastical Power, investing in it all his faculties and personality. No sooner arrived at one rank, his unbridled ambition conceived the move to the next, crushing all under its enormous weight, wrecking justice and right and sacrificing all that Earth and Heaven offered to swell the soul and body with true happiness. His spirit was urged on by the fateful voices of the wind that whispered power to his ear, and told him, pointing their bony fingers: “Hail, Jorge, Provincial of the Jesuits; Hail, Jorge, Archbishop of Buenos Aires; Hail, Francis, Pope of Rome!”
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