History is full of lies. Pen? Interesting? Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 ｉｎfo

Giulio in the history books. Advance. Giuliano. Morality. The Medici, like Constina, was overshadowed by Lorenzo. Morality. Adopted by the Medici, he spent his carefree childhood and teenage years in the comfort and safety of Palazzo Vecchio, until. But in fact, while still an infant he was handed over by his uncle to Francis, who was commissioned by Pope Siscot IV to preach in central Italy. Todds Cheney. Bishop Picomini and spent the first six years of his precious life on and off travel.

Now they have come to Assisi.

Assisi, a small city nestled among the hills, has existed even longer than the city of Rome, as early as 238 A.D., the saint Lufer preached and martyred here, but it was St. Francis and St. Caleb who were born here in 1182 and 1194 A.D. and St. Calles, the former founded the order of St. Francis of St. Francis with the rules of poverty, chastity and obedience, and was canonized two years after his death (1228), the latter was his faithful followerShe died in 1253 and was also canonized two years later (1255).

In the same year, at the initiative of the monk Aria, the people and the Church of Assisi financed the construction of the Church of St. Francis and its affiliated monastery in order to accommodate more monks and pilgrims. The church was built next to the hill that was originally called the "Hill of Hell" and was later renamed the "Mountain of Paradise" because of the voluntary burial of St. Francis, and was divided into two churches, completed in 1253, and is extremely exquisite, huge and beautiful.

Giulio's current guardian, a classmate of Bishop Picromini, who had recently become bishop of Perugia with the help of his uncle's gold coins, knew that Bishop Picromini had been commissioned by the previous pope to preach in Umbria, so he tried his best to invite his brother to the Hajj to St. Francis and St. Calle.

When Bishop Picromini entered Assisi, the morning service had just finished in the early hours of the morning, and the Bishop of Perugia, who had received the news, was waiting in front of the convent of St. Francis, happily placing his hands in front of his bulging lower abdomen, and for today's reunion he had chosen a velvet robe called Dalmatica, made of fuchsia velvet from Milan, which shone with a little gold under candles or torches, and a gold cross and a square badge engraved with St. Francis and the Birds. Inlaid with deep purple crystals. Behind him were the abbots of the Convent of St. Francis, the priests and the deacons, as well as the monks of St. Francis, dressed in brown robes with hoods and white linen cords tied around their waists, barefoot like St. Francis.

One of the most trusted priests of the Bishop of Perugia held for him a golden reliquary, containing a decaying rope that is said to have been wrapped around the saint's waist for decades, testifying to his piety and purity. The Bishop of Perugia was not very satisfied with this, and he wished to come up with something more worthy of admiration, but St. Francis was no ordinary saint, and he fasted and meditated for forty days before and after the feast of the Glorious Cross in order to retreat from the priesthood, for which angels came down from the clouds and gave him five stigmata on his hands, feet, and under his ribs - the only stigmata recognized by the Holy See so far, and there were hundreds of miracles during his lifetime and after his death, and his conduct and piety were not to be blasphemed or doubted. It is precisely because of this that no one dares to cut off a part of the body left by St. Francis in this turbid world and place it separately as he did with other saints.

Moreover, St. Francis was indeed as thrifty as he preached, and he never even had a wooden staff in his hand, so that he was so virtuous that when he was called away by our dear Lord, he left behind a room that was not even filled.

At last the Bishop of Perugia reluctantly accepted the proposal of the abbot, and they brought from the church of St. Calle three holy things belonging to St. Calle, and two deacons carried for him a copper censer with three chains, in which charcoal was burned, and on which frankincense was poured on it, and the smoke of a thick fog carried a rich smell around the people, and two other deacons held for him the holy book, which was beautifully bound and expensive, and the incisions were gilded, and no less than twelve precious gem pigments were used in it. It took the same monk nearly ten years to copy and draw it; In addition, there were four beautiful boys, holding silver platters containing wines from the Loire region of France, white bread made with flour and milk that had been sifted twenty times, and a large curved neck jug in which warm water was not for drinking, but for washing the dust off the face and between the fingers.

So when the man they had been waiting for finally appeared on the grey and white path on horseback, it was not the Bishop of Perugia who was most happy, but the boy with the crooked neck.

Picromini jumped off his horse, still very strong and agile for a man of forty-five years of age, his shaved hair neatly arranged above his thick eyebrows, his eyelids slightly puffy, but his eyes were as sharp as those of a falcon, his nose was bent downward, and the corners of his mouth were sternly tilted downward—he was dressed in a robe very similar to that of the Friar of St. Francis, wrapped in a wide and long woollen cloak, pale yellow, unbleached, There was no embroidery or clasp either, only a copper pin pinned to the left shoulder.

When a deacon tried to help him, he waved him down, and the bishop of Perugia made a lewd gesture in his heart, and made a grimace, and before he could salute or speak, Picromini gave him a great startle.

The first thing Picomini did when his feet were on the ground was to lift the cloak and let the little one inside fall out on its own.

It was a child, about five years old, six years old at most, with curly black hair, cheeks as rosy as roses, and his eyes were a very, very light brown, and the thinly ground amber was the color of the sun, and the light of torches and candles shimmered in those eyes, like stars, and like ripples.

"The son of a friend," said the bishops of Picromini and Perugia as they walked arm-in-arm along the corridors of the convent, "for some reason he could not stay with his relatives. ”

Bishop Perugia nodded in understanding.