immortal person

Chapter 38

Before the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, Florence ushered in the worst snowfall in ten years.The price of firewood in the city was very expensive for a while, so that dead branches and leaves were collected carefully; corpses frozen to death were found every day beside the bridge opening, so that drunkards no longer dared to wander around in the middle of the night.The original festival celebration had to be canceled due to the snowstorm, but on the day of the festival, Girolamo still carried out a grand sermon.He indignantly and sharply criticized the current affairs publicly, denouncing the city-state as "extravagant, dissolute, full of strange skills and tricks", a world where "thugs are rampant, the cells are full of gamblers, and the ropes prepared for gangsters are not enough". hell. "The dignity and beauty of the Republic are gone," he yelled angrily. "This heavy snowfall is the proof of Jehovah's thunderous wrath! Let Florence fall, and every sage in the world will applaud for it!"

The people feared the deadly cold, and Girolamo took advantage of it in good time.He used words to strengthen the deterrence brought by danger. After all, piety born of fear is much more effective than gentle persuasion.For a while, depression and panic quietly diffused in the corners of the city, and Lorenzo chose to temporarily give up dealing with this crisis head-on.He donated a new fortune to his fraternity to repair cracked roofs, provide hot soup to the homeless and collect the bodies of the frozen dead.Everyone who went to the rescue wore red, white and green robes symbolizing the Medici family, and wore the red ball family crest.Because of this, Girolamo unsurprisingly dismissed his actions as "hypocrisy," but Lorenzo insisted.

“The key is not to take it for granted,” Poliziano explained to Niccolo at a meeting in the study not long after. “If we don’t claim the credit, sooner or later it will be taken away by someone else.”

Lorenzo stood in front of the high window, looking at the blue and cold sky in the distance.The snow is still falling, painting Lily City with petal-like icy colors. "I shouldn't care about these things, but it's different now." He whispered, "And... I have a hunch that this winter will be very difficult."

As if to confirm his words, this storm of public opinion against him is far more than that.They quickly discovered: the Patsy never cared about means, whether it was outrageous or contradictory.They used the radical Dominicans to criticize the pagan civilization advocated by Lorenzo, and at the same time used ancient stories to ridicule the Medici family's monopoly over the past few decades.Rumors began to circulate against the Medici, no matter how unfounded they were.On October [-]th, the guards of the Medici family stopped a rumor spreader in a tavern. At that time, the man was describing a "Lorenzo's conspiracy" vividly: he intended to befriend the artists, It is to allow them to embed bugging devices into their walls when building other nobles' residences, so as to monitor hidden opponents and achieve their goals. "Ear of Dionysus, have you heard of it?" Before being dragged out of the tavern, the man was still hoarsely promoting, "A Greek tyrant's invention! This is what they Medici got from the Greeks. Learned something!"

The new theater funded by Lorenzo was compared to Nero's Colosseum, "both for the entertainment of the nobles." So say those with ulterior motives-even if they know it will be open to everyone; Renzo's pamphlets were printed and secretly stuffed in the bags of passing pedestrians.

And the Duke of Medici never lacked literati and orators who were good at advocating.Soon, the horn of counterattack sounded, and the form was no different from that used by those who provoked the war.The Patzis have been described as villains with ulterior motives, infighters who set up alliances, and even spies in collusion with the Gentiles - evidenced by their overly frequent contacts with the Papal States.Poems and paintings of all sorts of allegory were equally prolific, surpassing even those produced by the Patzis.The two forces came and went one after another in Florence, like two giants wrestling in mythology, each wrestling would cause turmoil in the city.

On the morning of the Sabbath, the messengers rushing into the palace reported the latest progress of the silent gladiatorial battle: the back wall of the Municipal Palace was painted with clumsy graffiti at some point, describing that Brutus assassinated the murderer Kai Sarah's story.It had been finished when the guards at night found it, but luckily not many people saw it, and the servants had rushed to clear it before dawn.Hearing this, Lorenzo just shook his head: "They really think highly of me."

"You don't have to worry, we will be able to create the same event soon," the visitor added graciously, "We have commissioned a painter to draw a hanging flag, which can be hung on the city tower tomorrow, telling the story of the betrayer... ..."

Lorenzo was noncommittal, even showing a bit of boredom in his eyes. "I hate this kind of intrigue," he told Giuliano that afternoon. "It's pointless and a waste of people and money."

His younger brother is holding the hand of little Giulio, patiently teaching the child how to accurately draw an apple on a glass dish.The restless boy waved his soft little hand in his arms, and seemed more interested in how to eat it. "Let Giovanni come next time." Giuliano carried him down and put him on the ground, and the boy quickly ran away. "He is obviously not loved by the Muses, which is exactly the same as me."

When he heard Buonarrotti's name, a fleeting soft smile crossed Lorenzo's face, just as he expected.Giuliano put down the charcoal, smiled and patted his brother on the shoulder: "Pazzi's family property is not enough to support a long tug-of-war - they also understand this. We are not so easy to be triggered. It will take a few more years, even if we lose part of our property, they must be the first to be depleted."

Lorenzo nodded; he did not understand. "I'm just worried," he sighed softly, "They will never give up easily. Even if they are at the end of their rope, they will definitely find a way to bite back."

In the end, it may not only be a lose-lose situation for both sides.Apart from them, us, and more importantly, the people who are forced to swing between the two factions, they are the innocent people.Lorenzo lowered his eyes, and these unnecessary wastes were by no means what he wanted to see before.

What he had pursued was freedom, equality, mutual respect and checks and balances, which was what he was taught and what he dreamed of.But now it seems that surrendering to the enemy is just a stupid way.Inevitably, he began to doubt himself, am I wrong?

He looked at the ruby ​​ring on his left hand, and the stern voice sounded in his ear again.How would you blame me if you were here?

In any case, the Pazzi family and Girolamo Pazzi continue to fuel the flames of criticism day after day, and their efforts are not in vain: there are always some mobs who are easy to bewitch.On the night of Christmas Eve, Giovanni heard the news from Pitti that "someone requested a duel with His Royal Highness". "That man really overestimated himself," Pitty commented angrily, "and even tried to challenge the Duke! He said that he should follow the example of Brutus and 'destroy the tyrant for the benefit of the people'..."

He was surprised to see that Giovanni's expression changed instantly, and he threw down the chisel almost immediately, leaving behind the apprentice and the sculpture that was about to be completed, and rushed to the Medici Palace.Lorenzo was very surprised at his early arrival, but he only had time to call out Giovanni's name, and the next moment he was hugged tightly by the young man.

"You know?" He stroked Giovanni's back gently, as if to soothe a frightened pony, "don't worry, of course I won't fight—and they must know I won't. It was just a threat. This is no longer the time for chivalry novels."

"How dare they..." Giovanni said almost through gritted teeth.Just the thought that Lorenzo might suffer irreparable damage sent chills all over his body. "Perhaps not just intimidation," he said calmly, but still unwilling to let go of Lorenzo. "Girolamo's sermon was indeed quite provocative—in case anyone got mad about it—"

"I won't let them hurt me," Lorenzo promised him.The Duke of Medici, always close to the people, often walked into the crowd without his attendants, just like when they met again in the tavern.However, violent traditions such as brawls, poisoning, and assassination still remain in many Italian city-states today. During the five years of his wanderings, he has witnessed too many such scenes.Even in Florence, which has been well-educated for decades, it is difficult to let go of its guard.So in the next half an hour, Lorenzo had to accept Giovanni's request that he "must wear a sword when traveling in the near future".They hugged each other and sat on the couch. Giovanni put his arm around Lorenzo's back, and he clearly felt that the person in his arms had lost some weight.

If I can bless you, he put his forehead on Lorenzo's shoulder and thought silently, I will give you all the blessings in the world...

The fireplace burned silently, and Lorenzo took off his gloves, and took the young man's hand in his own.His body temperature slowly soaked into the back of Giovanni's hand, finally revived the frozen soul.But this rare moment of tenderness did not last long. Someone knocked on the door of the study, and after obtaining permission, Poliziano's dignified face appeared behind the door.

"Something terrible has happened," he said curtly. "Please come with me."

"Girolamo asked the faithful to hand over their collections of wooden objects with pagan motifs, which were then burned en masse in the square, under the name of 'destroying the filth of oppressors,'" they hurried out of the study, Polizia Noble said quickly, "Salviati also agreed with this move. They have collected a lot and piled them up in the square."

"When does it begin?"

"Just tonight."

They walked quickly to the terrace.Obliquely in front of the Medici Palace, a huge "firewood pile" has been set up on the Piazza della Signoria, which immediately reminds people of the posture of the Inquisition burning witches.After seeing the "firewood" clearly, Giovanni couldn't help taking a deep breath.Wooden paintings, picture frames, and wood carvings were gathered together in a high place, surrounded by wooden shields, masks and other decorations scattered around. Several monks in black were holding torches coated with resin in their hands. The guards walked back and forth in the surrounding area like a demonstration, watching the movements of the Medici Palace vigilantly.The reason why they chose the Piazza della Signoria is obvious - it is the closest public building to the Medici Palace.A demonstration, no doubt about it.

"Girolamo declares that those who have pagan art in their homes will not be saved, and that rather than allow these things to continue to tarnish the 'glory of the holy city', it is better for citizens to warm together. Most of them are turned in by his worshipers, Par The Qi family also volunteered to donate part of it," Poliziano said.

Giovanni shook his head silently.Poliziano went on: "Of course they didn't hand in anything that could be called precious - and the old fox was not willing to part with it. But there are also some painters who were deceived by Girolamo, such as Sandro, who handed over his A few Venuses." He frowned and sighed regretfully, "Absurd."

"A lot of people are cheering for tonight's ceremony anyway. Do we also..." someone asked.

"No," said Lorenzo, "not a single piece of wood."

Giovanni looked sideways at him and, for the first time, saw sharp anger in his eyes. "Yes." Poliziano nodded, "Now it's a voluntary collection, and the next step is to take it by force; most of the things that are burned today are of no value, but look at his posture of persevering with paganism... There is always One day it will be the turn of the treasures."

The bells for Vespers rang simultaneously from all the bell towers of the city, echoing over the city, and for the first time Giovanni thought it sounded like the howling of wolves.The believers spontaneously made way for Girolamo in the crowd, and he strode onto the platform like Moses parting the Red Sea.On the high platform, the friar in black faced the crowd below. Just by looking at his arms waving excitedly, one could tell what an inspiring speech he was making.At the last moment, he raised his hands to the sky and shouted "Hallelujah", and the monks immediately threw the torches on the wooden products in unison. half the sky.

They watched all this silently.On a starless winter night, the sky was dark red, and the gathered believers cheered and danced around the fire. From a distance, they looked like clusters of distorted black shadows, reminiscent of some kind of secret ritual that had been abolished long ago.The priest led them to sing a psalm, taught them to be grateful, and praised the warmth bestowed by God.The smell of the burning was rough and pungent, and the wind carried them to the terrace, sweeping everyone's cheeks.Through the thin white smoke, Lorenzo clearly saw that on the high platform, the monk in black had already turned to face the direction of the Medici Palace, as if he was paying tribute to the Duke.

"How unfortunate people are in this day and age," murmured Poliziano, "to be forced to witness such a farce..."

Lorenzo said nothing.

The rational order he painstakingly built with books and schools has yet to take shape, but his opponents have used paranoia, hatred, and fanaticism to lead the people to extremes—that is too dangerous.People called Florence the "Daughter of Rome," but she was only a few decades out of the dark ages, too fragile to be a newborn.He could imagine how the resurgent ignorance would surely kill it—

This fire will not last long, not even a long winter night; and what will be the fate of another "fire" lit in Florence?Only the Lord knows that he would never want to be a sword bearer if he could, it is a war that wears him out too much.But he wasn't stupid enough to see clearly that the struggle was impossible; if he yielded, the other side would come closer; how could two lions fit in a city?The relationship between them has long been doomed.

"It can't go on like this."

he said softly.