Chapter 1093: Chapter 94: Prophet Moses and the Expedition to Savoy
“Young Italy? No, my first voyage left with many beautiful mories, but at that ti, I hadn’t yet thought about joining Young Italy.”
When Ro was ntioned, a peculiar light glowed in Garibaldi’s eyes, like a child encountering a toy he adores.
“Mr. Hastings, I heard from Mr. Dumas that you are a Catholic, since that’s the case, have you ever gone to Ro for a pilgrimage?”
Arthur smiled awkwardly: “I wanted to go in the past, but a few years ago, I couldn’t afford the expenses of traveling to Ro. And now, I have the ans, but lack the ti. You know, working in a governnt departnt is certainly enviable, but sotis it’s also a kind of constraint.”
Great Dumas, sowhat tipsy, after hearing this, with one hand holding a wine bottle and the other draped over Garibaldi’s shoulder, said: “Giuseppe, don’t listen to this guy’s nonsense. He is a Catholic, that’s not wrong, but I’m afraid it’s hard to find a Catholic less devout than him in the world. I shared a flat with him for quite a long ti in London, yet astonishingly discovered that this guy never went to church, and he doesn’t even say grace before als.”
Garibaldi looked at Arthur in surprise: “If you don’t adhere to the simplest religious rituals, why do you still claim to be a believer?”
Arthur just shook his head lightly, biting his lip as he pondered: “Giuseppe, you don’t understand, there’s a very complex reason behind it.”
“Like what?” Garibaldi spoke straightforwardly, not liking to beat around the bush.
Arthur shrugged and said: “For instance, Christmas and Easter are holidays. Whether God exists or not can be put aside for now, but I still want to take the holidays.”
Arthur’s answer was quite irreverent, but it very much matched Garibaldi’s temperant.
Because no matter who listened to this answer, it was impossible to accuse Arthur of lying. Although Sir Arthur Hastings, the diplomat, was British, he was one of the rare honest people.
The room erupted with hearty laughter. Garibaldi took a cigar from Arthur’s box: “Mr. Hastings…”
“Just call Arthur.”
“Alright, Arthur, my friend, but listen to , although Ro may hold no religious significance for you, if you ever get the chance, you must go. You are a historian, and although I haven’t been to university, I have a natural fascination for ancient artifacts.
Ro! For soone with an archaeological penchant like , what does this city an besides being a world capital? She is a deposed queen! Yes, her remaining ancient ruins are imnse, magnificent, and grand, and besides that, the city is haunted by ghosts that evoke wonder, representing great exploits in people’s mories and historical records.
Moreover, Ro is not only the capital of the world but also the cradle of the sacred religion that shattered the chains of slaves, a sacred religion that ennobles humanity. Before its birth in Ro, this sacred religion was greatly oppressed, and Ro is its place of origin. The first preachers were people truly possessing sage-like qualities, ntors to all European peoples, liberators of the people.
However, those that preached after these saints were degenerate, counterfeit, and rcenary, these corrupt Italian priests, they sold out our shared mother, our spirit, faith, land, and wealth to foreigners. When I stand beneath Ro’s towering walls, walk through her streets, I am overwheld with an intense feeling.
I feel her misfortune, her decay, and her millennia of suffering and tribulation, she has beco in my heart a sacred realm beyond all else. I pour all my passion to love her, not only loving her greatness over many centuries but also her most insignificant events, cherishing all these in my heart, as if stored in a treasure house.
The farther I am from Ro, the stronger this feeling becos. Even when I drift on the sea thousands of leagues away from Ro, I still pray for the Almighty to let see this beautiful city in my dreams. To , this nation must be unified, and Ro is the only symbol of Italian unification.
She is the supre mother in my heart, who captivates my soul, I cannot tolerate for a mont the evil foreigners or the Pope or any other bastards forcibly marrying her. Never, a true Italian man will never allow such a thing to happen!”
“Well said!”
Just monts earlier, Great Dumas who was slumped drunkenly, as if revitalized, sprang from the sofa: “Giuseppe, I support you! Though I can’t join you in your Italian revolution and rescue your Italian mother yet, it’s not because I’m timid, or because I don’t consider you a brother, but because my French mother is also about to be forcibly married, so I have to take care of family affairs first.”
Louis, evidently a bit more articulate, perhaps due to being less intoxicated: “Giuseppe, I support you too, you should know, I have been a mber of the Italian Charcoal Party for a long ti, I lived in Florence and Ro for a long ti, and not just , my uncle Napoleon, my cousin ‘King of Ro’ Charles, the entire Bonaparte Family, have very deep feelings for Italy. And this kind of love is not just about Italy, but about all the nations of Europe, in Poland, in the Netherlands, in Spain, in the Rhine, in Westphalia, and elsewhere, it is the sa.”
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