It's early morning, and a few novice priests and nuns sit with the Catholic hymnbook on their knees in the Chapel of the Collegio Teutonico. They sing hymn number 662: "...My breathing is difficult / and I can no longer speak / Lord, take up my sighs!"

The melody is by early Baroque composer Melchior Vulpius, but the words could just as well be those of the latest bulletin issued by the Holy See on the Pope's state of health.

Of course, it's only a hymn. But these days at the Vatican, everything, every gesture and every word, is open for interpretation. Why, for example, isn't Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger doing what he normally does, that is, reading early mass at the Collegio Teutonico today? Is he busy? With what?

And why has Cardinal Angelo Sodano read, without difficulty, the following words from Canon 332, Paragraph 2 of canon law: "Si contingat ut Romanus Pontifex muneri suo renuntiet" -- "Should the Pope decide to retire his office," meaning that premature abdication is a matter for Karol Wojtyla's own conscience? After all, the 77-year-old Sodano is Secretary of State of the Holy See, which places him in charge of church administration.

The Third Vatican

It's the Pope's tenth day in the hospital, and he is scheduled to be discharged today. But he will not be leaving the hospital discretely, through a back door, but instead for all eyes to see, during prime time, just in time for the evening news. Lord, take up my sighs. John Paul II is carefully lifted into a waiting vehicle, a puffy white figure with alert eyes in an unmoving face.

At 7:23 p.m., the Pope mobile, a brightly lit monstrosity, is driven up the ramp at the hospital's emergency room entrance, past the faithful and the curious. Bystanders call out "Viva il Papa!," but the old man behind the glass is barely able to hold up his head. He waves two or three times, blessing the crowd, and even moves his head a little. All in all, he gives the impression of a dressed-up doll, a doll in a fairy-tale coffin. Ecce papa.

It's a 25 mph procession through a cold and empty city, across the Piazza del Risorgimento to St. Peter's Square, which is closed to the public. John Paul has returned to the Vatican -- still human and yet already a reliquary.

Joaquín Navarro-Valls, the Pope's spokesman, has announced that the Pope's acute laryngitis has healed, that his overall condition is improving, and that John Paul is "impatiently" waiting to return to his desk "to turn his attention to future appointments." His word in God's ear. It was the seventh time the Pope was admitted to Rome's Gemelli Hospital, and it's obvious to even the most devout that the beginning of the end has now begun. The prevailing atmosphere in Rome is of the end of an era.

The various congregations seem oddly hectic and lethargic at the same time as they mill about through the Vatican's hallways and offices. Polish bishops are in a hurry to have a few candidates pronounced sacred or holy. In many Vatican departments, only limited-term employment contracts have been granted since the beginning of the year.

The Pope's ten-day hospital visit showed another side of the city's and the world's most powerful absolute ruler, a man whose fate could be decided by medications and viruses. An ordinary cold led Christ's representative on earth to experience extreme breathing difficulties and to be taken to the emergency room, at which point the business of the global church suddenly became subject to the rhythm of the fever curve and the blood counts of the Pope, who suffers from Parkinson's disease.

Karol Wojtyla once called Gemelli Hospital his "third Vatican," next to the summer residence at Castelgandolfo and the Apostolic Palace in Rome. And it may well become just that.

From now on, this Pope will always be accompanied by emergency medical equipment, including an oxygen tank and defibrillator, as well as his Papal ring. His personal physician will never be more than ten meters away from the Pontiff during papal audiences. It already appears unlikely that John Paul II will resume his habit of reading the Angelus prayer from an open window on Sundays. Such behavior presents too much of a risk that the Pope will catch another cold. Vatican officials are considering temporarily banning the practice of kissing the Pope's ring, a potential route to viral infection.

In fact, his supporters want to make sure that nothing else happens to the Pope. His most trusted advisors, nicknamed the "Polish team" (because or their difficult-to-pronounce names), cling to even the tiniest spark of life coming from the Pope. Should Wojtyla ever truly consider abdicating -- a highly unlikely prospect --, his advisors would quickly talk him out of it. In doing so, they would also be acting in their own interest. Stanislav Dziwisz, the Pope's private secretary, has himself already been named titular archbishop. He also decides on the fate and timing of documents and matters to which the Pope must attend. The boundaries between the will of the head of the Roman Catholic Church and his assistant have long since become blurred. No other cardinal has as much power and influence as Dziwisz, the Pope's St. Peter. He alone decides who is to be granted access to the Holy Father. Dziwisz was the only person with constant access to the Pope during his illness. Even the powerful head of the congregation of bishops, Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re, was turned away when he came to visit the Pope on the first day of his hospitalization.

"For the benefit and necessity of the church, he (Karol Wojtyla) should abdicate," says theologian Hans Küng, who believes that certain individuals could use the Pope's authority for their own purposes.

Who could be the next Pope?

An important issue at the Vatican these days is this: Who will write the list of invitees to the next Consistorium, or assembly of cardinals, and who will decide which new cardinals to invite? The meeting is to be held in late June. The attendees of the Consistorium will essentially be auditioning for the right to be part of the conclave that will elect the next Pope. Only three cardinals were members of the conclave that elected Karol Wojtyla Pope in 1978. One of them is himself a candidate -- a cardinal with prospects -- to succeed John Paul. His name is Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger.

As prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Ratzinger has been keeping watch over church doctrine for the past 23 years. His office is the former seat of the Inquisition.

Ratzinger has many friends among the cardinals, especially in Italy and Latin America. His image as a hard-liner has its origins in Germany. In the Italian church, however, Ratzinger is a highly-respected intellectual, theologian and scientist. He has exercised polite reserve in public for some time, and has even been known to issue liberal statements.

Father Eberhard von Gemmingen is the director of the German-language arm of Ratio Vatican. He believes that Cardinal Ratzinger is one of the more promising candidates to succeed the Pope. "In the conclave," Gemmingen says, "he could very well receive a majority of votes during the first round of voting."

Ratzinger has recently represented the Pope more frequently at important conferences and events. A high-ranking, German-speaking cleric says: "After having worked for decades in the global church, Ratzinger is essentially no longer viewed as a German national by many here in Rome."

Despite his advanced age of 78, Italian Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini is still one of Ratzinger's main competitors. For some in the Curia, Martini would be an ideal successor to the Pope, a man who would not represent "a particularly radical departure from the current Pope." Martini, formerly the Archbishop of Milan, is considered a sovereign representative, a well-organized manager of church affairs and an excellent preacher.

The intrigues, the scheming and the spreading of rumors -- all unmistakable signs of an upcoming conclave -- have not begun yet. Operations seem normal at the Vatican's hotel-like St. Martha's House complex, where the Cardinals are housed, as men in priests' clothing walk across the holy floors, their suitcases in tow.

Easter, the festival of the resurrection -- and a stressful time for a Pope --, is just around the corner. But unlike an audience, a holiday cannot be cancelled. However, the traditional washing of the feet, the Pope's carrying the cross to the Coliseum and personal confessions with the Pope have long since been cancelled.