The Messiah by Marek HalterHis retinue, with Joseph at its head carrying the white banner embroidered with Hebrew symbols, was composed of his armed servants, Doctor Joseph Zarfatti, and the Fattori, all on horseback, even old Obadiah da Sforno, sprier than ever. The little troop made its way across the city with huge crowds shouting their hurrahs and acclamation. As for Moses de Castellazzo and Daniel di Pisa, they had left earlier, and were on foot. They wanted to mingle with the people in the crowds so they could judge how they were feeling. Regarding David Reubeni, there was no mistaking what they felt. Their enthusiasm was obvious, and by the thousands they kept shouting, “Messiah, Messiah.” What they expected was clear, but for him it was painful to hear. After his meeting with Clement VII, how could he respond to their call for a Messiah? Low clouds rolled in, darkening the horizon and bringing a diversion. Rain began to fall in torrents over Rome, dampening the crowd’s enthusiasm. The downpour continued, a liquid wall between David Reubeni and the Vatican. And then it was as if the light disappeared. Off in the distance, the Vatican was veiled in darkness. Now and then, lightning bolts illuminated what seemed to be a night sky in the middle of the day. At the head of the procession, Joseph felt a chill. He turned back to consult his master. With one glance the Messenger signaled for him to continue on. He seemed impervious to the rain and the cold, indifferent to the rolling thunder and lightning bolts. As Joseph reined in his horse, David, his face full of energy, took advantage of a flash of lightning to say to him: “When the moon is full, it can only wane. Keep moving!” The rain stopped when they reached the Sant Angelo Bridge. As they were crossing the bridge, dripping wet, a ray of sun broke through the clouds and a patch of blue appeared. And then, as quickly as the heavy storm had struck, the clouds were swept away, and soon there was nothing above them but the immense blue canopy of heaven. A cannon salvo boomed out, a salvo of welcome like those the Vatican reserves for its important guests. Then, to the music of trumpets and drums, David Reubeni was led by the pope’s archers to Clement VII’s palace. Under the arcades, at the foot of a massive marble staircase, Cardinal Egidio di Viterbo was waiting. His imposing figure and ceremonial purple robe added solemnity to this important occasion. But his friendly smile and the mischievous look in his eyes reassured the Messenger. The delegation he was leading dismounted, and then, guided by the cardinal, they crossed an esplanade and walked past some unfinished structures, the gigantic vaults of Bramante, an enclosed area reserved for tournaments. Some of the buildings in the complex were still under construction. The pope’s advisor, the subtle Di Viterbo, wanted perhaps to impress his visitor by showing the magnitude of the monumental projects the Vatican was undertaking, as if to display their symbolic value. For the pope’s strength, audacity, and power were undoubtedly affirmed there. |
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