Chapter 36 Jadeite Gem (7)

◎Give him flowers◎

"In the year 1080 of the Christian calendar, a great epidemic broke out in Florence.

Emperor Sistine I went to the Lower City to comfort the people. During this epidemic, he showed calmness, rationality and compassion beyond ordinary people. He held a prayer ceremony for the souls of the dead every day and met with devout believers... In order to pray to God, he insisted on eating only one meal a day, which mainly consisted of water, black bread and cabbage soup. He received a baptism every five days, during which he was forbidden to eat anything... His behavior inspired more and more people. The people in the chaotic Lower City had never loved a Florentine faith leader so much...

"...One month after the outbreak, Saint Sistine I issued a papal decree requiring that all people and livestock that died from the plague, as well as related clothing and supplies, be thrown into the fire and burned, even the patients who had already been buried...There were riots in the lower city, and some patients began to attack the checkpoints guarded by the Knights Templar and were shot dead...

"Three days after the Pope's order was issued, the Knights Templar followed the Pope's order and all the sick people and related things in Florence were sent to the fire scene, and the patients were sent to the Great Gospel Monastery for unified management...

"...One month after the Pope's decree was issued, the Florentine plague disappeared.

"Saint Sistine I first adopted the method of burning disinfection to eliminate the plague, which had a great impact on the dominant theological ideas in the Middle Ages. This practice effectively accelerated the elimination of epidemics, and modern medicine was born. As a theological leader and religious spokesperson, Saint Sistine I's practice was praised and criticized at the time, and the Vatican also had many debates on this... There is no doubt that as a leader who faced the plague in Florence head-on, compared with the Black Death that once hit half of the continent, lasted for more than ten years, and plundered tens of millions of lives, Florence under the management of Saint Sistine I had only more than 7,000 deaths in this disaster, which is an amazing achievement..."

There are only a few lines of records on the paper. In the vast files, this incident is just a moment in the long history of Florence. History will not listen to the cries of the dead, nor the complaints of the poor. The deaths of 7,000 people turned into cold numbers on the paper, with a length of only four characters, but what it represents is the flames that never stop day and night, the dust of Florence all over the sky, and the desperate screams.

The Convent of the Great Evangelist was built on the edge of the lower town of Florence. A few miles away, you can see the ancient city walls of Florence. There are also some monks living in this monastery. They strictly follow the rules of the church and require themselves to live the most stringent and austere lifestyle in order to get closer to God.

After the outbreak of the plague, all the monks of the Convent of the Great Evangelist left and participated in the management and care of the patients. The gates of the monastery were opened to allow people to come in and out freely, and all homeless people were accepted to live there. Ferrante and Raphael jointly designated this place as the final residence for the plague patients. Because the monastery has very thick walls, narrow windows, and is far away from living areas.

In the final analysis, it is convenient to guard - whether dealing with internal or external unrest, it can be easily resolved.

The patients were moved to the Great Evangelical Monastery as quickly as possible. The Knights Templar blocked the streets and did not allow anyone to go out. Stretchers formed rivers between the roads. These rivers started from different places and eventually flowed into the remote Great Evangelical Monastery.

The streets were filled with cries.

The Pope's decree had been issued for several days, and everyone in the lower town knew what these patients would face. The patients themselves also knew what the end would be. They cried helplessly and sadly, begging for mercy from His Holiness the Pope, or cursing with words they themselves did not even understand.

The closer they got to the Great Gospel Monastery, the louder the crying became. Some agitated patients even tried to jump off the stretchers and escape, but were then sent back by the knights guarding on both sides. There was chaos at the gate of the monastery, and this chaos continued until dusk.

The security team members and knights guarding the pass leaving the lower city had already shot dead the sixth person who tried to escape the blockade of the lower city today. The ground was wet with blood. They carried wooden buckets and poured clean water on the ground to wash away the smell of blood. There was no expression on everyone's face.

Raphael had been standing on the bell tower of the Orange Blossom Church for a whole day, from the moment the first stretcher was carried out of the gate to the closing of the Great Evangelical Monastery. He stood there motionless, like a cold sculpture.

The lower town was filled with cries, so many of them that they mixed into the ubiquitous sound of sobbing wind, and all the sounds were accusations against him.

"This is an extremely cruel pope," a troubadour wrote in his notebook. He was lucky not to enter the lower city before the plague came, but he witnessed the history at the place closest to this cruel fate. "I can't imagine how he could issue such an order to let devout believers accept the fact that they will be burned in fire after death, which is a punishment comparable to hell after death. As a pope, he should be tolerant and compassionate to his believers, but now there is only fear of him in Florence."

This worn notebook has withstood the test of time and has fortunately been well preserved. It is now placed in a museum in Florence. The thin pages of paper are carefully placed on a table and illuminated by dim lights, allowing visitors to see the mental journey of an eyewitness to the disaster hundreds of years ago.

"...As someone who is not affected by the disease, I sincerely thank him for blocking the source of the disease, but I have heard the infamy directed at him. Perhaps people in the future will have a different evaluation. Will they praise him? I hope there will be such a day. After all, he really doesn't look like a devil, even though he was so cold, decisive, and ruthless when he gave orders."

"May God bless him."

Raphael knew nothing about this bystander's record. He ordered the Knights Templar to guard the Monastery of the Great Gospel strictly and not allow anyone to enter or leave. In order to rescue their family members who were "about to be burned at the stake", some relatives of the patients even made spears and other weapons and tried to break through the blockade and enter the monastery. In order to guard against these people, Raphael ordered the gate of the monastery to be sealed with mud and sand. All supplies were transported through baskets hanging from the tower. The weapons of the Knights Templar were also changed from deterrent sticks to lethal swords and guns.

In the first few days, at the entrance of the Great Gospel Monastery, there were people who rolled on the ground groaning after failing to storm the gate. But ever since the Knights Templar changed their equipment and put on light combat armor, every inch of their skin from head to toe was tightly covered under the cold armor, losing their living faces, they were like ruthless killing machines standing on a marble pedestal. Facing their knife tips and gun muzzles, everyone realized: The Pope was serious this time.

All acts of resistance and attacks on the monastery disappeared in an instant.

But Raphael did not feel less pressure because not only people in the lower city but also in the upper city complained about his actions. It was precisely because they were not facing the threat of the epidemic that they felt more comfortable talking about "tolerance", "kindness" and "friendly believers".

But Raphael is not someone who will be shaken by trivial criticism.

When he is sure that he is on the right path, no difficulties can shake him.

If it is a mountain, he will climb over it; if it is water, he will wade across it; if it is God who is stopping his progress, he will withdraw his faith in God and raise the banner from hell.

Although Raphael was still full of confusion about his rebirth, which could only come from God's miracle, granting him rebirth, but why did God grant him such a miracle?

Raphael did not hesitate to speculate about others with the greatest malice, even if that person might be the god who gave him new life.

His new life was still full of thorns, blood, tears, and pain. He was unhappy. If this was what God wanted to see, then this God was truly full of malice.

The gate of the Great Evangelical Monastery was opened a month later, or to be more precise, it was broken down by craftsmen outside. They observed that the fire that had been burning day and night behind the monastery no longer rose, the ashes slowly fell and settled in the air, there were no baskets placed at the window in the tower to receive supplies, and the notes that were handed out every day disappeared.

The last note described the situation in the monastery in a few words:

——All the patients have died and been cremated. The sick monks have voluntarily walked into the fire scene. They are all devout believers. Brother John and I saw them off. We seem to have a little fever too. After checking and cleaning up all the items, we will light the last fire.

——May those who have left return to God’s arms, and may God bless our Holy Father, who is the most merciful.

This note became the last voice sent out from the Great Gospel Monastery.

The next day, the people guarding on high ground saw that the Great Gospel Monastery was on fire. The fire burned from the moment the morning light came to the afternoon, and then gradually went out. There was no response from the monastery. ┇

The craftsmen broke through the sandstone wall they had built and pushed open the heavy wooden door covered with iron sheets. The unlubricated door creaked. The knights filed in, pushed open each door and checked the situation inside. Unexpectedly, each house seemed to be poured out of the same mold. These rooms for the ascetics were so narrow that they could only fit a wooden bed and a wooden table. The bed and the table were empty, and the floor was swept clean. There was no sign that plague patients had ever lived there. All the items that needed to be cleaned were gone. Except for the thick ashes and dust on the backyard, no one could tell what had happened here.

The Great Gospel Monastery seemed to have returned to the time before everything began, waiting to welcome devout monks from all directions.

After the inspection, the monastery was sealed again. It is estimated that it will not be opened again until Raphael's death. Unless it is demolished and rebuilt, this monastery where countless people died will not be reopened until this bloody history is completely forgotten.

Two days after the plague completely disappeared, the Papal Palace held a large-scale requiem ceremony in the lower town.

The survivors walked out of their homes, timidly accepting the sunlight, the Pope's magnificent carriage traveled in the middle of the specially swept and decorated road, the fully armed knights of the Knights Templar rode horses to guard the front and back of the carriage, people held white candles distributed by the Papal Palace and stood crowded on both sides of the street, compared with the deserted streets during the epidemic, one could not help but be surprised that so many people still lived in the lower town.

Unlike more than a year ago when they cheered for the arrival of the Pope's carriage, they stood there numbly with tears in their eyes, watching coldly as the Pope's carriage drove past them and knelt down according to etiquette. This time they no longer shouted the title of Saint Sistine I so loudly and joyfully, but muttered something vaguely that they themselves did not understand.

Through the thin gauze curtains, Raphael saw some people's eyes filled with hatred and hostility.

These are the people he wants to protect.

Raphael turned his head silently and looked at the road ahead indifferently.

A huge copper basin was erected, and bundles of spices were thrown into it. The rich and fragrant aroma spread in the lower town for the first time. People greedily sniffed the smell that was previously only smelt in nobles and cathedrals, and the smoke and dust brought tears to their eyes. The Pope, dressed in solemn and gorgeous robes, wearing a crown of thorns on his head, holding a winged scepter symbolizing God in his hand, stepped onto the marble steps.

He completed the complicated and lengthy requiem ceremony according to the procedure, lit the parchment roll, and the thin ashes were blown up by the wind, as if there really were souls taking off with it, being blown up into the sky, and into the arms of the Supreme Being. Everyone's heart was soothed, and the hatred, pain, sadness, and repression were brushed away by an invisible hand in the gloomy aroma, the steady and gentle voices, the clear and ethereal singing of the choir children, and the pious recitation of the clergy.

Raphael looked at the countless faces below, some clear and some blurred, and saw that the originally intense emotions in their eyes slowly calmed down and turned into something heavier and more secretive. These remnants could only be smoothed out by time.

The Pope looked at his followers, and the followers of Florence looked at their patron.

They heard that the

The young and handsome pope, who looked like an angel in a mural, said: "... God's test has ended. He took away his suffering children and left you as his servants on earth. You have proved your piety and faith..."

The Pope's long golden hair shone with a holy glow in the sun, firm, beautiful and persistent, just as he had been when he had defied all odds and walked into the dangerous lower city.

"Brothers and sisters, the plague is over. I am happy. A new day will come to the lower city of Florence. Now, cry for the dead and the living."

After he finished speaking, the square remained silent, but tears gradually gathered in people's eyes and low sobs were heard. I don't know who was the first to burst into tears, and the wailing and shrill cries spread throughout the square.

Raphael slowly walked down the platform crying. An old woman standing on the side of the stairs suddenly stretched out her hand and tried to get out from the defense line formed by the knights, which attracted Raphael's attention. The Pope looked at her. The hunchbacked, ragged, wrinkled old woman had tears on her face. She opened her almost toothless mouth and said, "...My four children and three granddaughters died of the plague and were burned by your order."

Raphael's body froze, and he forced himself not to look away, accepting the other party's rebuke, interrogation, or scolding.

"Why did you do this?" The old woman tried hard to control her emotions and not let her crying voice affect her words.

Raphael looked at her silently. He suddenly found that he couldn't say the light "sorry". In front of seven lives, any apology would be an insult.

“But…” The old woman howled like a mother animal losing her child. She took a deep breath and said, “But… please don’t blame yourself, Holy Father. We all know that you have tried your best. I am very grateful to you. You saved my last two children. I… Holy Father…”

She cried and said, "Holy Father, we will always be your most pious and faithful children."

Raphael stared at her in a daze. He was waiting for the blade, but they handed him flowers instead.

Could life be so kind to him?

The crowd moved forward, and the old woman finally disappeared from Raphael's sight. The Pope got on the carriage and left the lower town surrounded by the crowded crowd. This scene was recorded and placed under the lights of the museum, with only a short sentence.

"Florence has never loved its father so deeply."

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