Basic Sabine

The Rape of the Sabine Women

rattosabgianRape of the Sabines by Giambologna (Florence, photos Bruno Balestrini -www.thais.it) According to legend,Romulus, The first king of Rome, takes care to fortify and expand the city, collecting the shepherds from the surrounding areas but,for the lack of women, Its size would have lasted a single generation becausefailing marriages with neighborsthere was no hope of offspring at home.

So Romulusorganizesartfully solemnludi in honor of Neptune riding(Consuali) and then orders to announce the show to neighboring peoples.Rushes many peopleEven out of curiosity to see the new city,including the Sabines. During the course of the festival with songs and dances,to a signaldefendant,young Romans kidnapwomenSabineandarmed with daggers,put men on the run.

I Sabiniobviously do not like the insult and returned to their village arm themselves;led by Tito Taziomarchto RomeI decided to pick up their daughters.

From the story ofTito LivioSabines manage to penetrate the fortified city through the treachery of a young Roman girl,Tarpeawho had the task of guarding a door on the Capitol. In exchange for betrayal the girl asks Sabines gold and jewels, but paid off throwing them against their heavy shields: following the girl will be sentenced to death for treason and launched bybreakthat traditionally still bears his name in Rome.
Penetrated to Rome, the Sabines throw themselves against their enemies; but as soon asthe battle begins, Women intervene to obtain an armistice: manygirlsin fact, alreadyfond of the bride and groomRomans,do not toleratethe sight of that bloodybattlein which were involved theirfathersand theirhusbands.
The story has a wellpeaceful conclusion:Romulus and Titus Tatius reigned in commonthe city and the Sabines merge with the Romans into one people.

The beautiful Fiorana

The clock tower of Poggio Mirteto at the time of which it is said, that at the beginning of the twelfth century, was presented with a form different from today, since the tower to defend the underlying upper door of access to the country, and being thus equipped with battlements and a corridor with direct access to the castle.

Just this access allowed to the feudal family of the Earl of S. Cosimo to scrutinize the valley below, to prevent the incursions of the Saracens.
The lord of the time had two sons: the intrepid knight Roland and his sister Fiorani, which was known for its extraordinary beauty, which aroused admiration for its harmony, grace and perfection, like us back to the chronicles of .

Her beauty was such as to be extolled by poets and troubadours, and along with his brother Rolando was the idol of the country, as well as beautiful was also a valiant warrior on the battlefield.

One day she met a gypsy, who foretold to see her beloved knight, between kisses, tears of love and death, and without another word he disappeared.
Often at night the beautiful Fiorana loved to walk, dressed in white, on the balcony of the clock tower, and it was one of those nights that he met a knight that made her heart flutter with his love songs addressed to her .
After that night still others followed, accompanied by the sweet notes of the young man whom he never knew the name.
Unfortunately, the quiet days at the castle ended, and the time came for war, because of the Saracen hordes down in the valley were preparing to do battle at the fortress of Poggio Mirteto.

Fiorani, worn shining armor enclosing all its beauty, rushed along with his brother Rolando and all his troops to assault the squad buckwheat that beset the countryside surrounding the castle.
In the midst of the battle, between the sparkling of blades, the bold Fiorani was a single combat with a worthy foe, and so the clash between the two was bitter that his brother, having seen Fiorana in trouble, came to his aid and called by name .
The adversary hearing that name dropped his shield and took off his helmet, at the precise moment when they threw Fiorana against him with his sword, and was fatally shot.
Only in that moment Fiorana recognized in the handsome knight's opponent that night cheered with its melodic notes of love: the prophecy of the gypsy had unfortunately come true in all its tragic end.

The pain of having given herself to her beloved's death was so beautiful that the Fiorana went mad, and in his lucid madness every night he continued to appear on the terrace of the tower, in the vain hope of being able to listen to the words of love of the handsome knight .
When I finally realized the futility of his hold, in a beautiful summer night decided to reach his beloved, falling from the top of the rampart.
Eight centuries have passed since then, but many still swear that they heard in the quieter nights, the sighs of a soul that is not yes to peace for his tragic love.
Fine…


I precursori dell'aerostato

Le cronache Farfensi del XIII secolo narrano di una guerra, per futili motivi d'egemonia, fra Poggio Mirteto, all’epoca castello feudale, e Montorso (oggi Castellacce), altro castello situato sopra l’omonima collina a guardia del Tevere, durante la quale si ebbe una tregua proclamata dai signori dei due castelli contendenti.

This temporary suspension of activities between the two belligerent Castelli took place during Easter, when the opposing parties, faced, ready to tinker, hearing the sound of the bells announcing the recurrence Christian, decided to lay down their arms for a whole day,

Just close your eyes to imagine the excitement of the time around this event, and as time went on, the more the fervor of the party clung around that highest pole, which has become the symbol of moral victory between the two contending parties.
Unfortunately, now in its sunset, no one had yet managed to reach the top and grab the coveted prize, when suddenly, at the squillar of trumpets, we saw happen on the spot, from the heights of the castle of Poggio Mirteto, a group of young people who brought with them a massive and strange device that aroused the curiosity of all the participants in the festival.


Coloro che portavano tale diavoleria accesero un fuoco vicino al palo e, dispiegatovi sopra l’involucro, questo incominciò a gonfiarsi, e un'enorme massa di carta rinforzata con della tela, prendendo presto la forma oblunga di un pallone, tra la meraviglia dei presenti, cominciò ad alzarsi in cielo, e a quel punto un giovinetto vi si aggrappò sollevandosi da terra per raggiungere l’alta cima del palo della cuccagna, riuscendo con un pugno a far cadere la pizza di Pasqua.
La folla, che era rimasta sino ad allora in silenzio, tanta fu l’incredulità, si lasciò andare in un infinito applauso di gioia, tanto che al giovine fu decretato l'onore della giornata.


Era il primo pallone della storia dell’uomo ad innalzarsi nei cieli, per opera d'umili persone di Poggio Mirteto, cui va il vanto e l’onore di aver preceduto il talento dei fratelli Montgolfier.

Fine…


L'anatema del Tribuco

We're below to report, as the chroniclers of the time, the facts of the Triburco castle, which stood probably in the territory of Montopoli, namely in Ponte Sfondato.Il manor, built to guard the river Farfa and the nearby tomb of St. Getulio, since the early years of its founding

He became notorious for the atrocities of its owners, and the sufferings to which they underwent their vassals.
Un giorno d'inverno, in cui imperversavano nei nostri territori orde di saraceni sbandati, depredando in ogni dove tutto ciò che potevano, senza sconti per nessuno, capitò nel territorio di Tribuco un viandante stanco e lacero negli abiti, anche se il suo animo era forte e fiero, come quello di un uomo reso inerme dall'infausto destino che lo aveva colpito.
The man we are talking about only had time to hear the clatter of horses, when the raiders with their sharp blades struck him several times before despoil him of his few possessions contained in a bag of skin, on which was engraved one strange symbol, that had nothing to do with the initial of a name or mark of a feud.

The poor man, now dying, he dragged himself up to the main entrance of the nearby castle of Triburco, begging for help, but the lord of the castle would not allow him to enter, much less help to soothe the pain of his wounds, indeed

L'infelice, colpito mortalmente, prese allora a maledire quel luogo, e tutti coloro che vi abitavano, tra agghiaccianti urla che uscivano dalle fiamme che lo avevano avviluppato, sentenziando la fine del castello con un anatema che riportato integralmente recitava così, “Il primo non vedrà più sorgere l’alba, dall’alto della torre, quando sarà seguito da altri primi“, e spirò senza che si potesse mai sapere chi fosse.
Quello che aveva predetto rimase per anni dimenticato, fino a quando in uno dei tanti giorni di sanguinose lotte per le investiture, il Papa Pasquale II fu catturato dall’imperatore Enrico V, e tradotto di forza dalla vicina Roma al castello del Tribuco, ove, dopo due mesi di prigionia, capitolò, firmando la rinunzia alle investiture: era l'undici aprile 1111, da quel giorno la maledizione lanciata da quell’anonimo viandante morto arso vivo per mano dei signorotti del castello divenne realtà.

In fact, a little later, Pope Innocent II, with all the power in his hand, he ordered that the castle did not remain more Triburco stone upon another, and so it was done, declaring the definitive end of the manor, so that up to now only assumptions and some piles of stones are to infer the place where the fort was located.
Fine…


The Phantom of the Knight

As someone would suggest, we will be tempted to start this story with the famous words "Once upon a time", but we have so much wishful thinking in going to narrate the events that took place on the slopes of the Apennines, between the walls of a castle, lost among the rolling hills of the Sabine with such humility that reach the sea level, gently stroking the city that much hate and love equally spread in the minds of those who 's has known, for better or for worse.

Rome, the "Eternal City", as defined by most, charge of all his Christianity, was able to change the events of those who, unwittingly, has lived under its shadow, in a small group of houses, then called Castle St. Petri.

But back to us and the small group of houses, I want to tell you later deeds that you certainly can not compare to the events of the "knights of the round table" even if the weather was, and certainly have not gone down in history for having adventures somehow changed, but have remained without any doubt in the hearts of those who have accomplished.
That is in the hearts of villagers who, one fine spring day, were seen leaving for the much praised Crusades, aimed in search of faith that in those times was less than wholehearted, as loved and sought after, so much so that he could infuse courage even to those who had never overlooking over the hill on which the dwelling.

We are not certain to look for the names of those brave men who in the town square, on that day, we went to meet, led by the lord of the castle, who was respected and loved above all for loyalty to his countrymen, whom the contraccambiarono stripping of their dirty clothes to wear armor that made them proud to serve their beloved sire.
And there they left in search of faith and fidelity to demonstrate to their prince, who, proud on his horse, before advancing to the subjects convinced he can bring his people eternal salvation, proving to the world that then known,

We try to follow them on their journey to what for them was the discovery of a world they had only heard tell somewhere court minstrel, who came from nowhere, and telling something, but beyond all this there was a belief

And spring became the summer, with the fatigues of the journey that began to be increasingly felt, every day that passed, so much so that hot that summer, they found themselves in front of their destiny assigned to him, in a place so unknown to the inhabitants of the a charming village on the Sabine, that even back in their homeland, after months of ups and downs, they knew where they gave battle to say and to whom.

Only told a group of knights, dressed in black, armed with knives like crescent moons twinkling in the night, which struck at the death for their lord, cutting cleanly through the head, and who vainly tried, without success, his mortal remains, them to return to their homeland.
While the survivors of the castle recounted this, a shout went up from the crowd intently listening to the exploits of his countrymen ... it was a mixture of assertions of those who said they had seen, in the nights preceding their return, the lord of the castle hub of its head held under his arm, cross the front door of his manor and there disappear.

Even today there are those who claim to be heard in the castle on moonlit nights, the clatter of the hooves of a horse, and intravedervi over the body of the feudal lord, with his head in his arms, but proud to be back within the walls of his beloved country.
Fine…

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