According to the promise he had made his favourite, the Prince of Carini ordered the condemned man to be sent from Messina to Palermo; and Pascal, under a large escort of gendarmerie, was conveyed to the prison of that city, situated behind the royal palace, and near to the asylum for lunatics.
Towards the evening of the second day, a priest entered his dungeon. Pascal rose when he saw the holy man: but, notwithstanding all the entreaties of the priest, Pascal resolutely refused to confess. The priest continued to exhort him to unburden his guilty mind; but nothing could induce Pascal to perform this last office of religion. And the priest, perceiving he could not overcome his obstinacy, asked him the reason.
“The reason,” said Bruno, “is, that I do not wish to commit a sacrilegious act.”
“In what manner, my son?” inquired the priest.
“Is not the first condition of a good confession,” said Bruno, “not only the acknowledgment of your own sins, but the forgiveness of those of your neighbour?”
“Certainly,” said the priest, “there can be no complete confession without that.”
“Well,” said Bruno, “I have not forgiven; my confession would therefore be imperfect, and I have no inclination to make a bad confession.”
“Is it not,” said the priest, “more likely that you have such enormous crimes to acknowledge that you fear they will be too great to expect pardon? But comfort yourself, God is merciful; and where there is repentance there is always hope.”
“Nevertheless, my father,” said Bruno’, “if between your absolution and my death, a wicked thought I have not the power to control should—”
“The benefit of your confession would be lost,” said the priest.