𝐶𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑢𝑚 𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑏𝑖𝑑𝑜, 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑒́ 𝑡𝑎̃𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑜́𝑟𝑖𝑜, 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝐽𝑜𝑎̃𝑜 𝑃𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑜 𝐼𝐼, 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑗𝑎 𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐̧𝑎 𝑠𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟, 𝑜 𝑃𝑎𝑝𝑎 𝐹𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜 𝑣𝑒𝑖𝑜 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑖 𝑑𝑒𝑖𝑥𝑎𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑚 𝑑𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑚 𝑑𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑢 𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑜. 𝐸𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜, 𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑢-𝑠𝑒 𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑖́𝑠 𝑒 𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑒̂𝑚 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠: 𝑜 𝑐𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑜, 𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑢́𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑜 (𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝐸𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑛𝘩𝑎 𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑢), 𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜-𝑠𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎 𝑒́ 𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑜 (𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑛𝑢𝑚 𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑢𝑐̧𝑢𝑙𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑜), 𝑎 𝑠𝑎́𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝐵𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑙𝑜 𝐼𝐼 𝑒 𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑤𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑢, 𝑜 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑚 𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑖́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑜-𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙. 𝑇𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑜. 𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑎 𝑜𝑢𝑣𝑖𝑟 𝑜 𝑃𝑎𝑝𝑎 𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑧 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑎 𝐼𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑎.
𝑂 𝑃𝑎𝑝𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟
𝑂 𝑃𝑎𝑝𝑎 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒́ 𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑟, 𝑛𝑒𝑚 𝑠𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑜́ 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎. 𝐸𝑙𝑒 𝑒́ 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑜𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑠, 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐̧𝑎 “𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑎”, 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑢𝑚 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑎𝑜𝑠 𝘩𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑥𝑢𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑒, 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑜, 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑎 𝑝𝑒𝑑𝑜𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑎, 𝑜𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑒𝑚 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑎̃𝑜 𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑎 𝐼𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑎. 𝐶𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑢́𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑖́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎, 𝑡𝑒𝑚 𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑢𝑛𝑠 𝑠𝑎̃𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑖𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑠. 𝑀𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒, 𝑡𝑒𝑚 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑑𝑎𝑟 𝑎 𝑑𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑎 𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑟𝑎́-𝑙𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑣𝑜. 𝑇𝑒𝑚 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎 𝑒𝑙𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒́ 𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑢 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑎́𝑐𝑖𝑜, 𝑎 𝐼𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑎 𝐶𝑎𝑡𝑜́𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎.
𝑂 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑇𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑜 𝑀𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑐̧𝑎, 𝑛𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑎 “𝑀𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑓𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑁𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑎” (𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟸), 𝑒𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑎 𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑃𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑜, 𝑎𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑎 𝑎 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑥𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝐹𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜. 𝑃𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑜, 𝟷𝟶 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝐽𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑠, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝘩𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑜, 𝑓𝑜𝑖, 𝑛𝑜 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜, 𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑎̂𝑛𝑒𝑜 𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜. 𝐴𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑚 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 (𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝑑𝑜𝑔𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑠) 𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑚, 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎̃𝑠. 𝐸𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑎 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑠 (𝑝𝑝. 𝟷𝟻𝟸-𝟹). 𝑁𝑎̃𝑜 𝘩𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑎 𝑢𝑚 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑜𝑡𝑎𝑙, 𝑛𝑒𝑛𝘩𝑢𝑚 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑖́𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝐽𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑠 𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑜𝑡𝑒. 𝑂 𝑡𝑒𝑜́𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑜 𝑉𝑒𝑖𝑔𝑎 𝑇𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑠 (“𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑜𝑠 𝐶𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎̃𝑜𝑠”, 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟾, 𝑝𝑝. 𝟽𝟹, 𝟾𝟺) 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑛𝘩𝑎 𝑜 𝑒𝑥𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑜 𝑑𝑎 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝐽𝑒𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑒́𝑚, 𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝟸𝟶 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 (𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑛𝑜 𝑁𝑜𝑣𝑜 𝑇𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜), 𝑒𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑃𝑒𝑑𝑟𝑜, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑇𝑖𝑎𝑔𝑜, 𝑖𝑟𝑚𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝐽𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑠, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑖́𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑜. 𝐴𝑙𝑔𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑢𝑙𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠. 𝑁𝑎̃𝑜 𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑣𝑎, 𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜, 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑎̃𝑜, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑒𝑐𝑙𝑒́𝑠𝑖𝑎𝑠, 𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑖𝑎𝑠. 𝑂 𝑝𝑎𝑑𝑟𝑒 𝐴𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑚𝑜 𝐵𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑠 (“𝑅𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑎̃𝑜 — 𝑂𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎̃𝑜 𝑜𝑢 𝐿𝑖𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜?”, 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟺) 𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑚𝑎 𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑜: 𝐽𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑠 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑟 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑖𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑎 (𝑝. 𝟷𝟻𝟽), 𝑛𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑛𝑢𝑚 𝘩𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑖́𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑜 𝑑𝑎 𝑐𝘩𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑅𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑜.
𝐴𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑚, 𝑠𝑜́ 𝑛𝑜 𝑠𝑒́𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑜 𝐼𝐼𝐼 𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑢 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑚 𝑒𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑎́𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑖́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑑𝑜 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑜 𝑛𝑜 𝑠𝑒́𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒, 𝑎𝑜 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑜 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑎̃𝑜 𝑜𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑑𝑒 𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑜𝑠. 𝐹𝑜𝑖 𝑜 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑏𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑧𝑎𝑑𝑜, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑢 𝑜 𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑟𝑜 𝑎̀ 𝑆𝑒́ 𝑑𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑎, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑜𝑐𝑜𝑢 𝑜 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑖́𝑙𝑖𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝐴𝑟𝑙𝑒𝑠 (𝟹𝟷𝟺) 𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑢 𝑎𝑜 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑖́𝑙𝑖𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑁𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑖𝑎 (𝟹𝟸𝟻). 𝐴𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑚, 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑑𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑟 𝑎 𝐼𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑎: 𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑖𝑢 𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑜 𝑉𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑜𝑢 𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝐽𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑠, 𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑢𝑙𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑜𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑢-𝑎 𝑎𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑖́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑜, 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑐̧𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑜𝑔𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝐽𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑠 𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑢.
𝑈𝑚𝑎 𝘩𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜́𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑎̂𝑚𝑖𝑎
𝐴𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑚𝑜𝑢-𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑎. 𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑖𝑠, 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑢 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑠 𝑒 𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑠, 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑢 𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑐𝑢́𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜. 𝐹𝑜𝑖 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑐̧𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑠: 𝑜 𝑃𝑎𝑝𝑎 𝑆𝑒́𝑟𝑔𝑖𝑜 𝐼𝐼𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑟 𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠, 𝑜 𝑃𝑎𝑝𝑎 𝐵𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑓𝑎́𝑐𝑖𝑜 𝑉𝐼𝐼𝐼 𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑢-𝑠𝑒 𝑎 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑟 𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑟. 𝐷𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑒́𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑐̧𝑜̃𝑒𝑠: 𝐵𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝐼𝑋, 𝑃𝑎𝑝𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑒̂𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑧𝑒𝑠, 𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑜𝑠 𝟷𝟺 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠, 𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑢 𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑢 𝑡𝑖́𝑡𝑢𝑙𝑜; 𝑜 𝑃𝑎𝑝𝑎 𝐿𝑒𝑎̃𝑜 𝑋 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑜𝑠 𝟷𝟹 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠; 𝐽𝑜𝑎̃𝑜 𝑋𝐼𝐼 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑃𝑎𝑝𝑎 𝑎𝑜𝑠 𝟷𝟽 𝑒 𝐺𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑜́𝑟𝑖𝑜 𝑉 𝑎𝑜𝑠 𝟸𝟺 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠. 𝑂 𝑑𝑜𝑔𝑚𝑎 𝑑𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑙 𝑒́ 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑎́𝑔𝑖𝑐𝑎. 𝑀𝑖𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑠, 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑎-𝑠𝑒 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑜 𝑒, 𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑎 𝑛𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑜 𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑐̧𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑠𝑒́𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑜 𝑋𝐼𝑋, 𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑢𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑎 𝐵𝑖́𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑎 𝑒𝑚 𝑙𝑖́𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑎𝑟 𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑜𝑡𝑎𝑙; 𝑎𝑡𝑒́ 𝑎̀ 𝑑𝑒́𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝟻𝟶 𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝑙𝑒𝑟 𝑜 𝑡𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑜.
𝐴 𝐼𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑟 𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑜̃𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑢 𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜, 𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒́𝑟𝑐𝑖𝑜 𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑙𝑔𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑠, 𝑎 𝑜𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎̃𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜 𝑑𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑥𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑒 𝑎 𝑝𝑒𝑑𝑜𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑚, 𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜, 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝘩𝑜, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑚 𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝘩𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜́𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑢𝑛𝘩𝑎 𝑎 𝐼𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑎 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑣𝑜. 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑒́𝑚 𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑜 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜 𝑙𝑢𝑧𝑒𝑠 𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑠, 𝑏𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑝𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑎̀ 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎, 𝘩𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑙𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑠, 𝑣𝑜𝑧𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑜, 𝑝𝑎𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒 𝑛𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎, 𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑎̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑎, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑒 𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑖́𝑐𝑖𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑗𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑠𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑎𝑚. 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑢 𝑜 𝑡𝑒𝑜́𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑜 𝐴𝑙𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝐿𝑜𝑖𝑠𝑦 𝑛𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑖́𝑐𝑖𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑠𝑒́𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑜 𝑋𝑋, “𝐽𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢 𝑜 𝑅𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑜 𝑒 𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑖𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑎 𝐼𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑎”. 𝐷𝑖𝑔𝑎-𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑟, 𝐹𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜 𝑒́ 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑝𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝘩𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜́𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑜.
𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑟𝑎́ 𝑓𝑎𝑧𝑒̂-𝑙𝑜? 𝑁𝑎̃𝑜. 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑎 𝑒 𝑃𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑎 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑢𝑚 𝑑𝑖𝑎; 𝑜 𝑉𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑧 𝑛𝑢𝑚 𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒́𝑛𝑖𝑜. 𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎́ 𝑛𝑒𝑙𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒, 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑎𝑙𝑒́𝑚 𝑑𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑐̧𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑜𝑠𝑎, 𝑒́ 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎. 𝑉𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜, 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑠𝑒 𝑣𝑒̂, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝐹𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑜̃𝑒-𝑙𝘩𝑒 𝑢𝑚 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑙𝘩𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑧 𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎𝑟. 𝐸́ 𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑒𝑙𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑢𝑑𝑎𝑟 𝑜𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑎. 𝐸́ 𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑙𝘩𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠.