'ΑΝ'ΕΚΔΟΤΑ 'ΕΤΕΡΟΥΙΑΚ'Α OR, THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS.

Written Originally by that Fam'd Historian, the Sieur de Varillas.

Made English by FERRAND SPENCE.

LONDON, Printed by R. E. for R. Bentley and S. Magnes, in Russel-street in Covent Garden, 1686.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY, EARL of PEMBROKE, &c.

My LORD,

I Am sensible that this Mortification of your Triumphs, by so unseasonable an Address, when your Lordship has hardly had time to breathe, after Victory over Rebels, to be engaged in the so formidable Rencounter, as that of a Dedication, may, at first, seem a Crime not to be expiated. But if it be consider'd, that your Lordship has exerted your Loyalty in such a manner, that your Actions bear that Face and Character, as challenge, not only [Page]our present Admiration and Eulogies, but stand as Glorious Examples, as well to all Posterity, as the present Age, and will, un­doubtedly, prove the greatest Embelishments of the English History, it cannot, in the least, be wond'red that I strike in with the publick Celebrations. Freedoms and Presump­tions of this nature, are the inevitable Atten­dants of such like Performances as your Lordships; and since the Advantages, we reap thence, are so great, it seems unreaso­nable to debar us of our Acclamations. The Generous and Brave must either lye Idle, and not furnish us with such Charming Subjects for Discourse, or they must suffer us to ex­ult for the Benefits we thence derive, and not hinder us from giving open expressions of our Delight and Satisfaction.

These Considerations have, I hope, where­withal to plead my Excuse, for the boldness of this Offering, and give some reasona [...]le Varnish to the Ambition of being the f [...]st that has this way taken to blaze the

Insigne recens, ad huc
Indictum ore alio.

Besides, I do not a little pride my self in the Value and Quality of what I Consecrate to your Lordship: This is not like most of [Page]the Books, now commonly publish'd, that resemble those Eggs incapable of Generati­on, Sunt Ova Zephyria, that produce no­thing in the Mind, and from whence we cannot derive the least Profit and Instructi­on; No, My Lord, this is the Master-piece of one of the acutest Pens of this Age, tho' the Author had already, by other his Works obtain'd the name of a finisht Writer, and a perfect Historian.

How well he has merited this Title, your Lordship will find, all along; by his exquisite taste, as to what can please, or displease, tire, or divert; and though he omits nothing ne­cessary, yet is he Concise or Copious, as is most Consistent with the due beauty of his Work. Nothing of Prejudice appears in him. He is not warp'd nor cainted by Passi­on, or Interest, or Faction, He blames not, nor Commends, so as to make a Satyr, or an Encomium, He suffers not Fear or Hope at his Elbow, to jog him on to sooth the Moderns, or curry-savour with Posterity. His Impartiality being such, that from his Relations, there's no guessing at his Coun­try, or his Religion, or his Friends, or his Party. He is far from imitating even those Great Men, that make Speeches for Persons long since dead, which is degenerating Hi­story into Romance; tho' some will have it, [Page]that tho' it be not Truth, it will serve out turn as well. But this is the Banner of No­vels and Poetry, and not the Essential of History. Besides, such Decorations and Flourishes, are only capable of dazling and amusing the Mobile; and a Plain, Blunt, Down-right Truth shall, in a solid Mind, ob­scure all their Lustre. Not but that his Truths have often the Air of Fiction, but the usher­ing in of such, are the Prerogative of an Ancedoto-grapher. He does not here and there, by starts, make Parade of Wit, but enchases it throughout the whole Piece. Nor does he lye perdue, on all occasions, to be sh [...]r­ging in an Elegancy, but sometimes expresses a mighty Thought in one single word, or hints it without saying it. Yes, my Lord, these [...] all along speak a nice and general Knowledge of Men and of Things, a Pro­found, Subtle and Penetrating Wit, capable of unveiling the true Causes of Humane Actions, from their Pretexts and Colours They are a sort of Cabinet, Historical Inqui­sition, carrying along a Fancy quick and ju­dicious, conceiving Things aright, and Mid­wifing them afterwards answerable to the Conceptions. When my Author's subject leads him near a Battel, he has so prepar'd his Rea­ders, that they themselves seem slusht for En­gagement, tho' the quality of his Writing [Page]obliges him to wheel 'em off. When he speaks of a Treaty, of the Passions of a Prince, or of a Minister, his Readers imagine them­selves enter'd into Negotiation, are agitated with the same desires, the same uneasinesses and disquiets. The stile of the Original is neither too negligent, nor too ponder'd, but Plain, Chaste, Perspicuous and Familia [...], yet without being low and crawling, and throughout accompanied with Dignity, yet rather lofty in Sentiments than Words, tho' speaking all the Delicacy of the most Po­lite Courtiers. For he is still mindful that he entertains all Nations and Ages, that he has the whole Earth for his Audience, and to Eternity speaks before the whole Congress of Humane kind, where nothing ought to bolt from him, but what bears the Character of Modesty, of Recluseness, of Respect and Good Manners. And he has herein manifested how infinitely he has refin'd upon Procopi­us his Pattern, who has most nauseously vio­lated this Rule in more than a thousand Pas­sages. And take we him only as he is purg'd and retrench'd by Nicolas Alemannus, yet Monsieur Varillas has infinitely the Prefe­rence over that Antient, without needing to supply the befitting Vacuities he has made, by the Vatican Copy, to applaud the Inve­ctives that Balthazar Boniface, Trivorius, [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page]le Mothe-le-Vayer, and sundry other Cri­ticks have utter'd against that Historian. In­deed the Genius of an Ancedoto-grapher be­ing the same with that of a Plain-dealer, will not byass him to Employ, and his Labour and his Industry, or innocently or designed­ly, to abuse future Ages. And herein my present Author has had, as well the good For­tune, as the Ability and good Will, to do the World Justice; his quality of the French King's Library-keeper advantaging him a­bove any other, to strife into Modern Anti­quity. And this he has atchiev'd with that Perfection, that there is not a Person he in­troduces, but he appears to be acquainted with his every Inclination, and Aversion, and Failure, and weak side. He shews us whence proceed the Complaisances, the In­sinuations, and all the curious measures that make an Art of winning Hearts, or, at least, of currying Good Will. In fine, my Au­thor, in this his Performance, has the Gra­vity of Livy, the Politeness of Salust, the Policy of Tacitus; and had it been the Pro­vince of an Ancedoto-grapher, could, doubt­less, have shewn as large a knowledge in Tacticks as Polybias.

But, my Lord, to be more particular, and instance the Union M. Varillas has made of the Talents of Taritus and Salust, in these [Page]his [...], and thereby his Advantages o­ver those two Authors, Tacitus, has been ob­serv'd to convert every thing into Policy, that he suffers Nature and Fortune to have lit­tle share in Occurrences, and often gives far fetcht Causes for Actions altogether Plain, Common, and Natural. Thus out-going Affairs by too much Depth and Sagacity: that his Pieces are too finisht▪ through over-much Art, and too little Nature; and sometimes too curious and too sinical Specu­lations interpose fine glittering Ideas, in the room of true Objects, without considering that Nature is never so curb'd, and under the Hatches, but that it still as much Influ­ences our Actions, as we can regulat [...]ns Movements. For Irresolution and Passion prevail equally in the Great, as in the Vul­gar. And often a little Cabinet-pique, or Bed Chamber Quarrel, occasions a rum­bling World, and is the soures of the greatest Transactions. Something of the Parties Temper does evermore tinge the most con­certed Designs. And this my Author has accurately observ'd, in his Relation of the Imprisonment and Exile of Cosme de Medi­ci, Sir-named the Old, occasion'd through Envy at his Great Power and Riches, ac­quir'd by his Universal Traffick from Pers [...] into Andalusia, there being nothing finer [Page] [...]ain know of these Gentlemen, what St [...]m, however Holy, what Dignities and Offices, however August and Sacred, but have been tarnish'd by unworthy Members. Our Saviour himself, tho' he cull'd his Twelve, yet had he a Judas. How often did the Race of David degene­rate? How often was the High Priest's Office, among the Jews, blemish'd by un­worthy Officiates? The Richest of Hu­mane Blood Ebbs and Flows, Stagnates and Corrupts; and since the whole Race of Mankind is subject to these Infirmitions, no wonder that the House of Medici has, in some of its Off-spring, participated of the Frailties incident to the state of Man.

And this, I suppose, is sufficient to urge is behalf of my Author and his Book. And I will only now crave leave of your Lordship, to drop a Word in excuse of my self, his Interpreter. Some will, per­haps, carp at me, for calling my Tra­duction a Secret History, whereas the O­riginal had already made the matter Pub­lick; but against this, and other Cavils and Objections, that might be rais'd on the same account, I shall not stand to make a Defence, having, for what I have done, the Authority of all Procopius his [Page]Translators. As to my Version, I l [...] ­bour'd under some Difficulties through an imperfect Copy; but when we have the whole compleat, I am in hopes of laying it at your Lorships Feet, rectified from such failures.

I have nothing farther to add, but to beg your Lordships Pardon, for aspiring to the Honour of your Protection to this foreign Production. And as I do not design this for a Panegyrick, but as an Humble Address for your Lordships Patronage, I will not pretend to resine upon the Publick, that is purpetually Celebrating your Lordship for a perfect Model of Honour and Vir­tue. But though a Relation of their Praises might seem an Attack upon Modesty, yet that of their Blessings must needs be sa­tisfactory. Yes my Lord, all Loyal Hearts bless you, for having so very conspicuously, and advantageously distinguish'd your self in the Defence of the Sacred Blood of Eng­land, and the true Interests of the King­dom. Yet, as if Fame thought us not sufficient for your Eulogies, she has occasion'd your being Courted to ac­cept of the Best and most Honourable Posts and Employments beyond the Seas. But though other Nations, as well [Page]as our own, speak a most peculiar re­gard for your Lordships Merit and Gal­lantry, yet, I am sure, no Man can be with a more profound Respect and Passion, than my self,

My Lord,
Your Lordships most Humble, Most Devoted, and Most Obedient Servant, F. Spence.

The AUTHOR'S PREFACE.

IF Procopius, the only Author from whom we have [...] remaining to us▪ had left behind him the Rules of that kind of Writing; I should not lye under the Obligation of Penning a Preface, being the Au­thority of that excellent Historian, whom the French King's Press has lately presented so Correct to the World, would be sufficient to screen me from all sorts of Reproaches, sup­posing I had observ'd them with ex­actness.

But as the Art of writing secret Histo­ry is still unknown, almost in its whole [Page]Extent, and no Philosopher, hither­to, has taken the pains to draw up the Method of it, nor Critick dar'd to shew its Defects, I think my self reduc'd, like those who ingage in new Paths, viz. that I take all the Precautions necessary, to prevent be­ing damn'd at the entrance of my Work; and therefore mean to im­pose Laws on my self, according to which, I pretend to be try'd by an equitable Reader, on Condition I neither borrow them from my Rea­son nor Caprice, but only from the Examples of Procopius, whom I will ever have in ken, seeing I cannot find any other Guide.

Thus it is, with his Approbation, that I lay down for a Foundation of this Discourse, that it is not so easie a matter to write [...], as People may imagine, because, on one side, a Man cannot dispence himself from [Page]any of the Rules that Aristotle, Cicero, Plutarch, and other the Masters of th' Art have so judiciously prescrib'd for Publick History; and on th' o­ther, there are many others, which I shall relate in the Series of this Preface, which he is no less indispensably bound to observe; from whence I draw two in­ferences, holding of the Paradox. The first is, what Liberty soever, not to say Libertinage, that's attributed to [...], there is no kind of Writing more constrain'd, nor more reserv'd, since it has not a quarter of the Extent which the most scrupulous Histori­ans propose to themselves. The se­cond is, That there's no kind of Sla­very greater, for an Anecdoto-gra­pher, than to be ty'd to tell the truth in all its Circumstances, ev'n when he handles the nicest matters.

I explain my meaning by so known and memorable an Example, that it [Page]cannot be question'd. Certain it is, that Procopius has perform'd the Du­ty of a perfect Historian, when that seeking into the Cause that made the Emperour, Justinian, recall Belisa­rius out of Africa, from whence he had drove the Vandales, in three Months space, tho' the presence of that Great Captain was absolutely necessary to settle his new Conquest. He writes, that this Service was of such Consideration, that Justinian, not finding himself capable of re­warding it, was afraid lest Belisari­us, having his Arms in hand, might do himself Justice.

Procopius stopp'd there, as think­ing he had satisfy'd the Laws of Hi­story; and certainly there would have been injustice in demanding o [...] him then any thing further. But when he be thought himself, long af­ter, to labour upon those [...], h [...] [Page]fancy'd there was no more Disguise to be us'd upon so fantastical a mat­ter, that its most concealed Minutes ought to be laid open, and that his Readers Curiosity wou'd not be fully satisfy'd, without at least revealing to him that Court Mystery, which tho' he had caus'd to pass in the second Book of the War of the Vandales, for an effect of a Soveraign's Ingrati­tude and Jealousie towards one of his Subjects, whom Fortune lifted too high, was, properly speaking, only an Intrigue of Love of Antonina, Beli­sarius his Wife, she being Cock-a hoop to return to Constantinople, there to see again the infamous Object of her Passion.

Procopius took the same Course in his Books of the Gothick War, when he had spoken of the same Belisarius his second or third Disgrace; for af­ter having, with all the vigour of his [Page]stile, exagerated the Prejudice Ju­stinian did his own Concerns, by degrading that brave General, in the very instant he came from taking Rome, and delivering Italy from the Lording of the Goths, by win­ning of a Battel, wherein the King and all the Royal Family remained Prisoners; he was contented with writing, that Belisarius his Enemies were sufficiently powerful, at the Im­perial Court, to procure his Re­peal.

But he speaks much more home in his [...], wherein he main­tains, that the true and princi­pal Cause of his Degradation, came from the Empress Theodora, Justini­an's Wife, who being desirous to make Belisarius purchase the Conti­nuation of his Employment, caus'd him to return to Constantinople, where she propos'd to him the obtaining his [Page]re-establishment, on condition that his Daughter, who was to be the on­ly Heiress of the immense Riches he possess'd, shou'd Marry the Empress's Nephew, having nor Estate nor Vir­tue, nor Birth, Belisarius Sacrific'd his Daughter to his Ambition, and recover'd the Generalship at that price; But he kept it but two years: And in this place do I make a third Observation upon the Conduct of Procopius.

For tho' he owns Belisarius to have surpass'd himself by recovering the City of Rome, and the rest of Italy, which the Barbarians had seiz'd on during his absence, tho' he declaims against the harshness of Justinian and Theodora's Infidelity, who recalled him unseasonably for the third time, yet was not he wanting however, when he examines the occasion of it, towards the end of his second Book, [Page]to have recourse to the same Calum­ny, he had made use of, to explain the foregoing Disgrace. And 'tis only in his [...], that representing Belisarius once again upon the Preci­pice, he draws the Curtain, and downright avers, that what absolute­ly pusht him in it, was, that the Em­press had got a Fancy to have his Wife return to Constantinople, to have a Confident, nay, and a Companion in her Disorders. The reason of so different a Conduct, in one and the same Author, proceeds, if I be not mistaken, from that the Historian considers almost ever Men in Publick, whereas the Anecdoto-grapher only examines 'em in private. Th' one thinks he has perform'd his duty, when he draws them such as they were in the Army, or in the tumult of Cities, and th' other endeavours by all means to get open their Closet­door; [Page]th' one sees them in Ceremo­ny, and th' other in Conversation; th' one fixes principally upon their Actions, and th' other wou'd be a Witness of their inward Life, and assist at the most private hours of their leisure: In a word, the one has barely Command and Authority for Object, and the other makes his Main of what occurs in Secret and in Solitude.

Not but that the Writer of [...] draws a Picture of Persons, as exact, and as faithful, at the least, as can be done by the Historian; but he does it after his own Mode. He represents only as much of the Man's Out-side, as is necessary to know his Inside; and as the good and bad dispositions of the Mind, are only to be disclos'd in the Manners, 'tis also for the Man­ners that he reserves his liveliest Colours, and finest Materials.

So scrupulous is he in this point, that he minds not provoking the Anger, or incurring the Indignation of the Persons Concern'd. But he is commonly so unhappy, that what ought to pass for a Virtue, is impu­ted to him as a Crime. He supposes for one of his Principles, that fine Se­cret which Plutarch first discover'd in Moral Philosophy, namely, That there is no state in Life, wherein a Man is more careless to conceal what passes in the bottom of his Heart, than when the passion that Lords him is arriv'd to excess.

However, when he follows the di­vers Agitations occasion'd, for ex­ample, by the fury of Love, and the despair of Jealousie, he is forthwith aspers'd as a Detractor; and that he only writes a Satyr, wherein his Con­dition is much more unhappy, than that of the Painter, who is fully ju­stify'd, [Page]if he can shew that his Pour­traict altogether resembles th' Origi­nal, whereas the Writer of [...] has never more reason to fear being ill treated, than when what he relates of Viciousness is most true.

I insist upon this point, it being, perchance, that which has diverted Historians, before and since Procopi­us, from this kind of Writing, and which, by Consequence, must needs set me a trembling. I undertake to draw the Picture of Pope Clement the 7th, and if I design to do it to the Life, I must detect his Ruling Passion, and examine to its least Symptoms. Not a Man, that I know of, has yet said what it was; and I am the first that main­tains it to have consisted in a blind and whimsical desire, with which he was ever possess'd, of ravishing his fellow Citizens of their Freedom, to raise to the Soveraignty of Florence, [Page]two Bastards of his House, though it did not then want several Legiti­mate Children, whose Heroick acti­ons might have merited the Choice, and whom all Mankind judg'd, be­yond Comparison, more capable of filling that place.

I do not fear being Cavill'd upon this Proposition, as being sure there cannot any material Circumstance be found in the Life of that Pope, but what alludes to this Assertion. Nay, I fancy, that if I proceeded no further, I should be so happy as to scape the on-set of Criticks. But have I not reason to lye under dismal Ap­prehensions, when the necessity of my subject shall oblige me to grope on, and put Truth in all its Light? When the sad Destiny of [...] that can­not indure any thing mysterious, shou'd be left to Posterity without explaining it, or any thing secret [Page]without revealing it, shall ingage me insensibly to take off the Paint, with which Historians fucuss'd most of Clement's Actions, to shew how ma­ny weaknesses and faults against true Policy, budded from this first irre­gularity, and to explain the minutes of those failings, which past, at length, ev'n to the preference of the youngest of those two Bastards, to the eldest, tho' the youngest had not a­ny of the qualities necessary for Command and Government, and that the Eldest possess'd them all, by the consent of those who knew him, and ev'n to the exposition of Catha­rine, only Daughter, and sole Hei­ress of his House, in a Curb'd, Head-strong, and Rebellious Town, whose Inhabitants he had reduc'd to despair, by a Siege of eighteen Months.

Moreover the Writer of [...] [Page]makes a scrupule of charging him­self with pompous matters, and as he principally aims at knowing what is peculiar in the Inclinations, he stops sometimes, to glean up such mat­ters as were neglected and flung a­side by the Historian. An unfore­seen Answer serves him to penetrate into the bottom of Peoples Intenti­ons. If he had been at Florence with Alessandro de Medici, one bare word of that Duke, wou'd have suffic'd him to make his Pourtraict. He wou'd have suppos'd that the impene­trability of his Secret, his being his own sole Confident, was it self his true Character, as soon as he had heard him say, that he was himself the Keeper of his own Designs; but a Keeper so Jealous, that he did not allow 'em to stir one moment out of his heart, to take the Air upon the brink of his Lips.

I ingenuously own, that the Histo­rian does not do the like, and wil­lingly do I leave him in possession of that fine Maxime of Adrianus Mar­cellinus, Discurrere per Negotiorum Celsitudines non humilium minutias in­dagare Causarum. I take it kindly of Lucian, for having rally'd those who wou'd go another way to Work, and I blame Guichiardini for having so of­ten violated this Rule; but I pretend likewise to be left in my turn, to en­joy, peaceably, the Priviledge of [...], and to relate with a serious Air, the smallest trifles, when they have been th' Origine or occasion of the greatest Matters.

Perhaps I shall have the Validity of these Priviledges deny'd me, upon that Procopius, who has advantag'd him­self of 'em so often, has no where ta­ken the pains to establish them. But I answer, in the first place, that tho' [Page]it were so, I shou'd still have left a Possession of above twelve hundre [...] years, which, in good Law, equal [...] at least a new Title. And in the se­cond, I maintain, that Procopius hi [...] silence cannot turn to my disadvan­tage, since it is contradicted by th [...] contrary use of the same Author, fol­lowing the Maxime of Philosophers who give force to the Negative Ar­gument only, when there is nothing opposite in the same Place, from whence it is drawn. And I observ [...] in the third, that a Man cannot b [...] well grounded, to draw an Inference of that Nature, from Procopius hi [...] Books of [...], because this Wor [...] has not been preserv'd absolutely en­tire, as is easie to judge, by the Pas­sages cited in Suidas and Evagrius that are not now a days found in any of our Editions, or Manuscripts Which wou'd give me always occasi­on [Page]on to pretend that Procopius might have spoken in the Fragments which we want, of what People will needs have him to have forgotten and o­mitted.

But, after all, tho' I shou'd be de­priv'd of Procopius his Authority, I shou'd still have a reason left, which ought, in my Opinion, to pass for Fundamental, in the matter now in hand; namely, That notwithstand­ing the Writer of [...] is no less oblig'd, than the Historian, to tell the Truth, yet he is not oblig'd to tell it in the same manner; for the Historian is not properly bound to tell it, but when the Transactions he relates are so true, as that they are probable; and Guichiardin will be ever blamed for having re­latedIn the Fifth Book of his Hi­story. the Case of two Rival Brothers, th' one of whom having known that [Page]th' other was better belov'd, because he had finer Eyes, tore them out from him, and sent them in a Box to his Mistress. There shou'd he have stopt, and not have added, that these same Eyes were remitted in their place, by so delicate a hand, that they re­cover'd th' use of sight.

Yet am I not of their Opinion, who think this single Instance sufficient to make Guichiardin's Process, and Con­vict him not only of Falsehood, but likewise of manifest Error against common Sense. I am willing to sup­pose, with the Adorers of this Histo­rian, that the two Persons, of whom he speaks, were sufficiently Eminent in Italy, to be known, and that the Place of the Blindness and of the Cure, which they are minded to maintain, was not so remote from Florence, but that a Man might be in­form'd of it in a short time, and with­out [Page]difficulty. What I now find fault with is, that so Tragical and Capricious an Event, tho' it may be true, was not probable, at least in its utmost particularity, which ought to be omitted, or related with the due Precautions, for the persuading the Reader, that there was no design to impose on his Credulity.

On the contrary, the Writer of [...] has, for Object, Truth in all its Extent; he considers it equally, either that it be probable, or not probable; and the same Procopius who had taken such pains to be believ'd, when here­lates,In the first Book of the Go­thick War. in his History, that one single Isaurian Cava­lier had put to rout a whole Army of the Goths, the self same Procopius says, I use neither Precaution nor Pream­ble in my [...], when the thing in hand is to describe the strange Po­stures [Page]of the Emperour Justinian in the Night time.

After his Example shall I take the freedom to examine all the Symp­toms of the Great Cosmo de Medici his sickness, and indeavour to sift, by what accidents of Fatigue or of Debauchery, that Princes Body lost the three Functions of the Mind, one after th' other, during the three last years of his Life, and was deprived, by a successive alteration of his Or­gans, first of Reason, then of Mo­tion and of Sentiment, and at last of Life.

But if the Writer of [...] has on this side, more Liberty than the Historian, he has it not on another which wou'd be much more material to him: for he cannot propose to himself or Interest or Glory, for the end of his enterprize, and the Field he cultivates is to him so useless, that [Page]it produces him only Thorns and Bri­ars: He runs a risque of losing all, instead of profiting; and the same Conastagio, who had been promis'd ten thousand Crowns, besides an am­ple Pension for Life, for writing the History of the re-union of Portugal to the Crown of Castile, was threat­ned with Bastinadoes, as soon as it came to be known, that he else­where than at the Spanish Ambassa­dours House at Genoua, sought after Memoirs for writing the late Revolu­tions of the Low Countries.

He wou'd not so much as dare to hope to raise his Name from Oblivi­on, by causing others to revive: and in the Most Christian King's Library, have I read several Manuscripts, which Infallibly will be never Prin­ted, because they draw the Picture a little too much to the Life, of some Illustrious Persons, in whom Histo­ry [Page]has not hitherto found any De­fects, or at least was not willing to find any.

He can neither make his Wit nor his Eloquence glitter nor sparkle, by reason those sorts of Truths that fall within his Sphere, ought necessarily to appear stark naked, and I do not think there hardly can be found in Antiquity, a more careless stile, in that kind of Writing, than is that of Procopius.

In fine, he obliges neither the Age, whose Errors he recounts, nor that wherein he lives. Those who ought to gain most by his Instructions, are those who are most provok'd in rea­ding them; and if the state of Venice had not offer'd an Azylum to the un­fortunate Boccolini, there wou'd not have been any safety for him in the Old or New World, so dread­ful was then the Pow'r of those, [Page]whose hatred he had incurr'dPietra del Para­gone Politico. by his Touch-stone.

I launch out much farther, and assert, that there is hardly any Para­dox in the Stoick Philosophy, but what, by a contrary sense, is verified in the Destiny of a Writer of [...]; he searches after Truth with an inde­fatigable Care, but ever pursues he it unprofitably, he thinks to attain to Felicity, by attaining to Truth, and yet bears off and distances himself from his own Happiness gradually, as he approaches Truth; he Combats for it with a world of Pains and Trouble, and yet he never Triumphs after ha­ving Vanquisht. In short, he is the Slave of Truth, as Epictetus was of Virtue, he must cherish it for its own sake, and never complain of the Mis­chiefs it makes him suffer, provided he is Sooth'd and Cocker'd with the hopes of possessing it.

Excellent Painters are there, who make Pourtraicts according to all the Rules of Art; and yet those Pour­traicts are not altogether resembling they add ever something to the Faces they represent; and tho' they do not omit any of the Features or Li­neaments, they so raise and set off the Air and Colouring, that they are found much handsomer on the Cloth, than they are in th' Original. I do not think there ever to have been any Historian, that has entire­ly avoided this Defect: and this hin­ders me from calling it a Fault. And I cou'd quote an infinite number of Ancient and Modern Examples; but I'le reduce my self to that of Leo the 10th, as sharing in my Sub­ject.

Three Celebrated Historians are there, who have employ'd all the Strength and Delicacy of their Stile, [Page]to express that Popes Genlus to the Life; namely, Paulus Jovius, Guichi­ardin, and Padre Paolo Sarpi, of the Order of the Servi. Yet they go so different a way to work, that the three principal Heroes of Italy are not more different among themselves in Manners and Conduct, than Leo the 10th is from himself, in the Wri­tings of those three Authors.

In his Book and in his particular Eulogy of Leo the 10th. Paulus Jovius makes him pass for a Man Arrogant and Stately, and ever in­deavouring to carry things with a high hand. To him does he impute the same Warlike hu­mour that possess'd Giulio the 2d, his Predecessour. He made him con­ceive, ev'n before his Exaltationy a disdainful Contempt of all the rest of the Sacred Colledge; founded upon an imaginary precedence of the House of Medici o're other the Fa­milies [Page]of Italy; he causes that Con­tempt to intervene in all the signal Actions, and ev'n in the most august Ceremonies; he takes him for the Source and Foundation of the obsti­nate War against the Duke of Ʋrbin, and of other the Quarrels that arose in the Pontificate; in a word, he will needs have that Vanity; but a haugh­ty shocking Vanity was his predomi­nant Inclination.

If you are concern'd to know how Paulus Jovius has penetrated so far into Leo's Bosom, to pronounce of him so decisive a Judgment, he him­self obviates your question, by de­claring that he was that Pope's Crea­ture, that this Holiness caus'd him to lay aside the Profession of Physick, and the pretension of a Chair at Padoua, to ingage himself in an Ec­clesiastical state, made him Bishop of Cosmo, chose him to be his Confi­dent, [Page]and to assist at the Councils, wherein the most important, and most secret Resolutions were taken, engag'd him to write the History of his time, interpos'd in his behalf in France and in Spain, that he might have Communicated to him th' Au­thentick Pieces, he might think need­ful for the Perfection of his Work: and laid himself wholly open to him, in frequent and familiar Conversati­on. Wou'd not a Man say, to hear him talk in this manner, that he has made the true Pourtraict of Leo the Tenth.

Nevertheless, Guichi­ardin, In the 12 [...] Art of his Histo­ry. who wrote upon the same subject, at the same time, has made one directly contrary. He gives us this Pope for a finisht Model of Modern Policy, and for the greatest Cabinet-Man of his Age; he places him above King [Page] Ferdinand the Catholick, and makes him Triumph, in his Youth, over that old Usurpers Stratagems. To him it is he attributes the secret of making the Council of Spain, willy-nilly, back and further all his De­signs.

After having laid down these won­derful Principles, no glittering Vir­tues are there, but what set off Leo the 10th's Picture. He frames from ten years old, when first made Car­dinal, those vast Projects he since ex­ecuted, when exalted to St. Peter's Chair. He negotiates with the States of Venice, for the saving and re­trieving the Wrecks of his House, that had run a ground on the For­tune of Charles the 8th. He does not alter his Resolution, by having seen his brother perish at the Passage of a River. He has no other thoughts than for the advancement of th' only [Page]Son that Brother left in the Cradle, and thereupon he returns to Rome, where his Intrigues give him access to Pope Giulio the Second's Favour, and procure him to be Elected Legate in the Army design'd to drive the French out of Italy; he is taken Priso­ner at the Battel of Ravenna, but he makes his escape in a Conjuncture fatal for himself, since that Giulio was newly expired: He enters the Conclave, where he so improves the young Cardinals Caprice, they ha­ving whirl'd their Heads with a De­sign of making a Pope of their own Age, that he works their Suffrages to turn in favour of himself. He joins with the Spaniards, and husbands their Friendship, as long as it is of use to him, for the re-instating his House in the principal Functions of the Magistracy of Florence; but as soon as Fortune turns her back upon [Page]'em, and that he finds their Coun­cil not of a humour to suffer that he usurp the Dutchy of Ʋrbin, there­with to invest his Nephew; he treats with the French on that Condition, draws up the famous Concordate, wherein he Fools and Bafles the Wiles and long Experience of Chan­cellour du Prat; he Caresses Francis the First, as long as that King is in a Con­dition to do him good; but he has no sooner rookt and wheadled him out of all he aim'd at, but that he gives him the slip, to reconcile himself with Charles the Fifth. He projects with this Emperour, for the re-establishing the Sforza's in the Dutchy of Milan. He succeeds sooner than he expected, and receives such tydings that so transported him with joy, as occasi­on'd his Death.

Now this is Guichiardin's Leo the 10th, a Piece not in the least re­sembling [Page]that of Paulus Jovius. Yet it's past all doubt, that he was at least as well inform'd; for he came of a Family entirely devoted to that of Medici; he was almost of the same Age with Leo, he had been Educated with him, he had accompany'd him in good and bad Fortune, he had manag'd the most subtile Intrigues of his Exaltation, he had receiv'd extraordinary Honours and Benefits from him, then, by his Order, did he return to Florence, where he com­pleated the Downfall of the popular Faction, and manag'd the Dispositi­ons of his Country-men, with so much Address, that this Pope, by his means, Commanded nine years in that City, in spight of its Liberty. His Holiness had call'd him thence to honour him with an Office, where­in he was oblig'd to confide in him the most important of his secrets, [Page]by making him Commissary Gene­ral of the Armies of the League a­gainst the French, which he offici­ated at the very time of that Pope's dying.

After this, can Guichiardin be re­proach'd, with having wanted suffi­cient Instructions? And shall we not find other Historians in the last Century, much inferior to him in this point, far from being in any wise to be compar'd to him? Yet Pa­dre Paolo, who has labour'd at Leo the 10th's Pourtraict, after Paulus Jovius and Guichiardin, has imitated neither of their Stroaks and Linea­ments; he represents him as a Volup­tuous Person, that pamper'd himself with the enjoyment of all the Sweet­nesses of the Popedom, and waved all its Bitternesses, that troubled his head with no knotty nor difficult Af­fair, referr'd to Subaltern Ministers [Page]those which demanded Time and Application, enrich'd his Relations and Servants, not out of kindness, but that he might be the better serv'd, and the more Caress'd; made an in­curable Wound in the Church, by the Concordate with Francis the First, and empoverish'd St. Peter's Patrimony by his Profusions; Ravish'd his Coun­try of its freedom, out of a Caprice, and minded not to restore it, when, after his Brother and Nephew's death, departing this Life without Male Children, there was no one of his Family capable of gaining by the Mischiefs he had done; made a Present to his Sister of the Mo­ney, which the Piety of the Germans had design'd for the waging War upon the Infidels, committed the di­stribution of Indulgences in the Dut­chy of Upper Saxony, to the most avaricious of his Courtiers, negle­cted the Heresie of Luther in its be­ginning, [Page]and did not set about stop­ping the Gangrene, till when it was become incurable; had too Libertine Sentiments of Religion, and trou­bled his head little about another Life.

I dare not speak my mind of the Resemblance of this Picture, but yet I know that Padre Paolo wrote after the Relations of Ambassadors, which the State of Venice sent to the Court of Rome, in the time of Leo's Pope­dom, and that those Relations are commonly very exact, and very true, as we have newly seen, by that of Correro, tho' ev'n Cardinal Pallavi­cino's History, who has undertaken to refute that of Padre Paolo, and says nothing against what respects Leo's Person, were not a tacit Approba­tion of what I have newly noted.

What will then the Writer of [...] do, such as I may be? He will take [Page]the Pencil after Paulus Jovius, Gui­chiardin, and Padre Paolo, but he will use neither their Colours nor Ideas. His manner will be wholly new, and whereas others had painted Pope Leo in his Habit of Ceremony, he will represent him in his Undress. He will slip in among ten or twelve of the Polite and Topping Wits, who commonly assisted at his Private Recreations, and at his Couzening himself into a sleep, and will take him in his gay Humour, wherein he was, for Example, when he flusht them the Design of theIt was Prin­ted in Germany, in the Collection of Ornarius. fine Grammar, and of some other such like Pieces, which have not perhaps been sufficiently valu'd, either in their own Age, or in ours, considering the delicacy of their Invention. He will go and seek him in a Vasari, but the Va­sari of the first Edition: For what [Page]I am going to say, has been retrench'd from the others. He will go and seek him, I say, when he sometimes delighted in thwarting, and at o­thers in condescending to Michael Angelo's capricious humour, when he wou'd see, against his will, his Work before it was finisht, and that he expos'd his Person to the being crusht under a Scaffold, which Mi­chael caus'd to fall upon him out of spight; whereupon this Painter ha­ving betaken himself to his Heels, and not daring to return, he was forc'd to make him Ambassador of the State of Florence, for the re-incouraging him by that inviolable Character, and that at the first Audience he gave him in that Quality, in a Gallery where the Pope receiv'd him with his Cane in hand, Angelo's Fear re­doubl'd, but needlesly, because all Leo's Anger and Cudgelling were dis­charg'd [Page]upon a Chamberlain, who wou'd needs shew himself imperti­nently Arrogant in so odd a Con­versation.

In fine, the Writer of [...] will make Extracts out of the excellent Letters, of the Cardinals Bembo, and Sadolet, and those of Peter Martyr, and Silvius Antonianus.

Hence he will borrow Secrets, that have scap'd the knowledge of the most exact Historians, and from all those Irradiations together, he frames a Character of Leo the 10th, which if it be not as beautiful as the foregoing, will be, at least, as Curi­ous.

But thanks to his Most Christian Majesty's Library; I am not reduc'd to be contented with a small matter; and I have found Memoirs still more Ample, and more Authentick In­structions. Well known it is, that [Page]the first Soveraigns of the House of Medici, could not so well conceal their principal Adventures, nor un­der the Ashes so well cover the flames of their Amours, and the smoak of their Ambition, but that there has flown thence some sparks, ev'n to this side the Alpes: They ne­ver acted without Witnesses, and tho' they had used all the Precautions imaginable to delude Posterity, the in­testine War that has sometimes been kindled in their Family, has hardly left us Strangers to the least of their Intrigues.

Strozzi's there have been, who have taken refuge in France; and as their Mother was the nighest Heiress of Leo the 10th, their Father, the best Friend of Clement the 7th; and that they had themselves been concern'd in most of the Revolutions that hap­pen'd under Cosmo the Great, they [Page]have Collected such particular Me­moirs, that the World has reason to exult for their exactness.

Not but that these Memoirs ought to be in some wise suspected, and that they ev'n bear, in several passages, the Impressions of the Hatred, Spight, Jealousie, and Revenge, wherewith, it cannot be deny'd, but that the Authors were possessed. But 'tis on this score that I have distrusted them, and that I have never believ'd them in the least Circumstance upon their bare words. I have ever confronted them with their Adversaries answers, and have only allow'd them so far Credence, as it has not appear'd to me that those answers were sufficient. In a word, I assert nothing, without having examin'd the Contradictions, and whosoever shall take the pains to read the Works of Ceri, Adiani, and Manuce, three the most famous Pa­negyrists [Page]of Cosmo the Great, he will find therein wherewithal to ju­stifie me on that point.

Now if I have the advantage of the Illustrations, which one of the two Parties gives me, to the disadvantage of the other; if I have weigh'd the divers Interests and different Motives, if I have compar'd them with the Circumstances, and if groping a­long, and walking warily, I have en­deavour'd to attain to the knowledge of secret Transactions, by the means of those with which I was un­acquainted, I have done in this but what is daily done by Judges, when they are about pronouncing upon the Life, or the Reputation of the ac­cused, whose Crimes are not suffici­ently averr'd.

And indeed an Anecdoto-grapher, has hardly any other secret, by the report ofTis the Sophist Marcellinus. him, [Page]who has left us in writing the Life of Thucidides, to set to Rights the con­fus'd Memoirs he has Collected, than by examining diligently the matters they agreed upon, and to make use of them afterwards, as Principles for the judging of the truth of others, of which they do not jump in an ac­cord. But tho' he does not appeal to Historians, what Authorities soe­ver they may have; nay, tho' he makes profession of writing almost e­ver Transactions, or at least Particu­larities that were unknown to Histo­rians; yet he does not meddle with re­proving them, or loading them with Invectives; or as Thimeus did, who palliates them instead of blackening them. He wou'd dissemble their Faults, if he cou'd do it without be­traying his own Knowledge; and when that truth, which, following Tertullian's expression, is the most [Page]imperious of Virtues, forces him to bring them into Light, he never does it without extenuating them, or ex­cusing himself before hand, for what he is going to do. He knows that there is nothing that scapes so soon, nor so easily as that truth, that he who first taught us that it was in the bottom of a Well, might be suspect­ed of having bury'd it there all his Life, and that the proneness and sloo­ping of Corrupted Nature to false-hood, is no less slippery than that it has to Love.

The reason which ob­liges him to take this Course,In the second Book of his Library. is drawn from Diodorus Siculus, who maintains, that as there are feeble Geniusses that are tempted to do Mischief, as soon as they know the manner of commit­ting it, there are likewise strong ones, with whom it's sufficient to represent [Page]Vice in its most lively Colours, to divert them from it. 'Tis for Minds of this last stamp that a Writer of [...] labours, as the Historian, for those of the first. They both tend to the same end, tho' they take op­posite Paths: and the Chymist, who gives Antimony to drink, after ha­ving Corrected its Malignity, obli­ges the Publick no less, than he who composes a Medicine of the most innocent Simples.

The Judgment is form'd and fa­shion'd as well by the Contemplation of Evil, as of Good; and if Mora­lity was depriv'd of this sort of In­structions, it wou'd be in a worse Condition, than the young Greek Gentlemen, that went to Thebes, to Ismenias his House, to learn to play upon the Flute, because that great Personage, after having shew'd them the secret of Mouthing it, made them [Page]hear a Man that plaid very sorrily, that he might make them know the defects of his Art, at the same time he gave them its Precepts.

Quintilian took the same Course with the Roman Knights and Se­nators Children,In the 5th Chapter of the Second Book. who came to his House to learn Rhetorick; for he as often led them to hear the bad De­clamers as the good. He made them observe the Vices of the Harangues which the Vulgar most admired, the improper Words, the obscure ways of speaking, the Fustian, Sordid, and Effeminate stiles, and those which shock Chaste Ears.

[...] are the Mi­rors which do not flatter,In his second Book and the same Diodorus, who shrifts after their Ori­gine with the utmost exactness, re­marks, that Aegypt enjoy'd a very [Page]long and most profound Tranquili­ty, as long as they were in use in that Kingdom; for as soon as the King was dead, his Body was exposed in the midst of the publick place, where every one had the freedom to praise him as much as he deserv'd, and to upbraid him with all the evil acti­ons he had committed, they put in­to the Scales the Complaints and Ac­clamations, and if his Vices were found to have over-ballanc'd his Vir­tues, his Memory was detested, and his Body refus'd the honour of Buri­al. His Successor made his advan­tage of an Example he had been Eye­witness to, and Govern'd the State with all the Justice necessary, for the having nothing to fear from the pub­lick Odium after his Death.

Certainly it wou'd not be a little Contributing, to the Felicity of Ages to come, as to make him see things af­ter [Page]the same manner they were in ours, or in that of our Fore-fathers, without thereto adding any thing diminishing or changing. Those who have scap'd, through good Luck or Cunning, the Punishments they had merited, wou'd not scape the In­famy; and those, whom their Ex­ample might attract into the like Crimes, wou'd accustom themselves betimes to have, for Posterity, some sort of Fear mingled with Respect. They wou'd dread the Judgment of their Nephews, and fall to doing such actions as wou'd challenge Approba­tion. They wou'd be afraid, as well as Cicero, of what wou'd be said of them six hundred years after; they wou'd, like him, beseech Modern Authors not to treat them ill in their Writings; and for the giving them occasion of doing it, without pre­judice of Truth, they wou'd put in­to [Page]their hands sincere Acts and au­thentick Instructions.

There has been found People sen­sible to the stroak of a Pen, though they were not so, or to the remorses of Conscience, or the severity of the Laws; and a Prince was seen in the beginning of the last Century, who, not being to be diverted from com­mitting an Incest with his own Daughter, by all the Maximes of the Christian Religion, was efficaciously so, by the Reflexion he was wrought to make, that the thing could not be so well conceal'd, but that it wou'd be known by Posterity.

Not but that, ever and anon, there has been found Men generous e­nough, as not to be influenc'd to dis­guise the Truth, either by the quality of the Presents that were made them, or by fear of the Punishments, where­with they were threatned. But yet [Page]there has been so few of them, prin­cipally in the two last Ages, that I have been able but to find out a pair, whose Example it will not be perhaps amiss to relate in this place, for the rarity of the matter.

Never was there a King that was more concern'd, for what wou'd be said of him, after his Death, than the last Alfonso, that wore the Crown of Naples. He not only labour'd at winning of Battels, and doing those sorts of actions which savour of the Romance, but he was likewise soli­citous to find out Pens worthy of writing them, and capable of embe­lishing them. Not one famous one was there, but he endeavour'd to gain or corrupt, and all such as were in Repute, receiv'd from him Pensi­ons or Presents, in whatever Coun­try of Europe, Birth, or Fortune had confin'd them; yet never was [Page]yet never was there a Monarch whose Infirmities have been better particu­lariz'd than his. We are not stran­gers to the least of his Frailties, and what avails it to read in Pontanus, Panormus, Benedicti, and in sixty four other Historians, that he possess'd all the Noble qualities that form He­roes. No body believes 'em, and the World is rather inclin'd to give Cre­dit to Bernardino Cerico, who attri­butes to him only very common Affections, tho' this Cerico is other­wise a very piteous Historian.

Castruccio Castracani, on the contra­ry, has been defamed by thirty cele­brated Historians of Italy, ten of whom are of Florence. He has been reproach'd with all the excesses whereof Tyranny is capable, when a­bove the reach of Fear: And Machi­avel has writ a piece on purpose, in so terse, maligne a stile, that he turns [Page]into Ridicule, all the actions he can­not blame. Yet has he not been be­liev'd no more than his Coun­try-men; and though Nicolas Te­grinus, who made at the same time that Great Captain's Apology was inferiour to Machiavel, in all the o­ther parts that make up a perfect Hi­storian: Nevertheless People have jugd'd Tegrinus to be the sincerest of the two. They have approv'd the Contradictions he puts in his Pre­face, for the undeceiving those who had been prepossess'd to the Preju­dice of Truth; and 'tis now allow'd on all hands, that neither the Testi­mony of Machiavel, nor that of the other Florentines, is receiveable in what relates to Castracani, as being suspected of designing to revenge their Countrey, at least with the Pen, for the Affronts, which it had receiv'd from a General of an Ar­my, [Page]who had been its most formida­ble Enemy, though they were con­vinc'd, that this General had no o­ther failures, than what proceeded from his living in a Conjuncture, wherein it was not possible to exer­cise Military Virtues, by lawful means.

But as the two Events which I have newly related, are perhaps those only, wherein rigorous Justice has been done to oppressed Truth, ever since History was written, it is not to be expected, but by a due course of proceeding. The shelve is to be avoided, which commonly wrecks those who do not fancy, that too much exactness can be used, in detecting the most secret matters. You must remember, that though a Writer of [...] is more often, and more strictly bound to speak the Truth, than an Historian, yet he is [Page]not so in all occasions; to speak with­out exception, on the contrary, he ought to suppress it all along, where it is not possible to reveal it, without acting against good Manners.

Town that Procopius has fail'd a­gainst this Principle, and I am too sincere not to abandon him in thi [...] point. I do not undertake either to excuse him, or defend him; and [...] should go my self astray, as well a [...] deviate my Readers, if I follow'd hi [...] steps. I take it kindly of tha [...] Man's Modesty,Th [...] German Doctor. cau­sing his [...] to be Printe [...] has retrench'd such Passages, wherei [...] the Infamies of the Empress Theodo­ra, when she assisted at the Public [...] Divert [...]sements, were too lively re­presented. I wish this Vacuum ma [...] be never fill'd, and that those wh [...] are able to do it, may have neithe [...] the Will nor the Leisure.

This Priography is in the Galle [...]y of the French King's Library.I have little less Aversi­on for the Impudence of Petrus Candidus December, who wrote two hundred years agon, the Lives of the Dukes of Milan, and People wou'd have been well enough satisfy'd, without knowing why Fi­lippo Visconti caus'd the young Gen­tlemen of Milan to play at Tennis so often in his presence.

The art of the most Infamous Pro­stitution, ought not to be learnt in [...], no more than in History, and the Laws of Decency well de­serve to be as scrupulously kept in the one, as in th' other. Dangerous thoughts ought not to be imprinted in Peoples Minds, under the Cant of rendring to them Vice the more abo­minable, nor fill 'em with shameful Ideas, when the business is to am­mate them to the pursuit of Glory, by laying before them the most emi­nent Virtues.

Neither ought it to be suffer'd in [...], or in History, that in pub­lick there appear things, as would not be heard without a Horrour, in a well regulated Conversation, and if the Ordures that are read in the Old Romances, are not wanting to produce pernicious effects, though we are forewarn'd of their false-hoods, what will not those do, which the memo­ry shall endeavour to retain, because they are true.

Never was there any Republick, that has giv'n a Right to private Per­sons, over anothers Reputation, and but has punish'd those who went to disturb'd the Dead in their very Graves. The Morals of the Fathers, and Councils will have us hold him for an honest Man, who had the re­pute of so being, at the Moment he ceas'd living, when that there is no evident proofs to the contrary; [Page]and 'tis principally for this last Con­sideration, that I shall draw the Cur­tain over the Amours of Cosmo de Medici with Camilla Martelli, and o­ver those of Duke Francisco his Son with Bianca Capello. I shall leave the principal Circumstances of them, in the Memoirs wherein I have seen them, and shall only thence cull those that have so peculiar a Connexion, with the most notable Events of those two Princes Lives, that for want of having chosen them, nei­ther Manuce, nor Civi, nor th' other Historians are intelligible, in the pas­sages of their great Volumes which are ferreted with too much Curiosity. But its too long stopping the Reader at the entrance of this, I must intro­duce him within doors, and render him Judge, whether I have put well in practise the Speculations, where­with I have been entertaining him.

THE CONTENTS OF THE BOOKS.

The First Book.

THE great Riches of Cosmo de Medi­ci, Surnam'd the Old, acquir'd by Traffick, rend'ring him suspected to the Flo­rentines, four of the most Illustrious Families Conspire against him, and got him clapt into Prison. The Design is laid to Poyson him, but he avails himself of the Goalers Irresolu­tion, and of a Boufoon's Address, by whose means he gains the Gonfalioniere, who nicks his time, and dexterously sets him again at Liberty. He withdraws to Venice, from whence he con­trives [Page]his return to Florence, and causes his E­nemies to be banish'd. He ends his Life in quiet, and leaves but one Son, call'd Piero, of small Sence, but a sequestred Health. The Pitti's Conspire to assassinate him, and lay their Measures competently well; but he scapes 'em through a Caprice that happily came into his mind. Their Conspiracy is discover'd, they are banish'd. The Venetians support them. They invade Tuscany with an Army, but the de­sign of surprising Pisa being ill concerted, makes them lose th' occasion of entering Florence, and of taking the advantage of Piero de Medici's death, occasion'd by the Gout.

The Contents of the Second Book.

LOrenzo de Medici rallies his Fathers Friends, and restores the Affairs of his Family. He goes and joins the Florentine Ar­my with fresh Troops, and is present at the Battel, wherein Field-pieces are first put in use, and where the Servants, one both sides with Flambeaus, light their Masters, while a Figh­ting. Federigo d'Urbino wins one of Cogli­one's Quarters. The Republick of Venice a­bandons the Pitti's, and the Marquess of Man­toua reconciles them with the State of Florence, The Volterrans Revolt. Lorenzo de Medici causes the Siege of the Town to be rais'd, and [Page]pardons them, after having constrain'd 'em to surrender at discretion. He demands of the Pope is Cardinals Cap, for his Brother Giulia­no, but is refus'd. He takes his Revenge, by causing the Army of the Church to moulder a­way before Tiferno, and by hindring the Pope's Nephew from acquiring the Soveraignty of Im­mola, from whence is fram'd the Pazzi's Con­spiracy. Giuliano de Medici is therein kill'd, and Lorenzo escapes. All the Accomplices are punish'd, and the Archbishop of Pisa is truss'd up at a Window of the Palace, in his Pontifi­cal Vestments. Bandini only gets into Turkey. But Sultan Bajazet delivers him to Lorenzo de Medici's Factors.

The Contents of the Third Book.

COmmissioner Nardi concludes a League be­tween the Pope and the King of Naples, against the Florentines. Lorenzo de Medici sustains the War; but seeing himself abandon'd by his Allies, takes a bold Resolution. He causes the choice of the young Florentine Nobi­lity to follow him, under the Pretence of a Hunting Match. Goes aboard a Gally. Bears away directly for Naples. Amazes King Fer­rand, by this Heroick Act of Trust. Breaks all the Measures of Resalli the Ambassadour. By new ways disconcerts the Practices of that [Page]Old Minister. Ruines him in the Kings good Opinion. Enstates himself in his room. En­clines the King to all he aims at. Makes him break his League with the Pope. Procures Peace to the Florentines. Causes their Towns to be restor'd them, and a Treaty of Guaranty to be sign'd with them. Two years after, the King of Naples is almost oppress'd by his Nobles Conspiring with the Pope, and the Venetians, who meant to share his State. Lorenzo de Me­dici succours him without staying to be desir'd to do't. Lends him Money. Debauches the Troops that had overcome him. Causes the Orsini's to declare for him, and restores him to all In­tents. After which, all his Thoughts tend only to maintain Peace in Italy,

The Contents of the Fourth Book.

THE famous Astrologer Leoni, the Top­ping Physician of all Italy, comes to Carrego, to prescribe to Lorenzo de Medici, during his Sickness. Is mistaken as well in his Predictions, in quality of Astrologer▪ as in his Prescriptions, in quality of Physician. The Pa­tient dies through his Fault; and Piero de Medici, out of rage, throws him into a Well, wherein he is drown'd, as was Prognosticated, by the Calculation of his own Nativity. The Eulogy of the Wits, that were Friends, or re­ceiv'd [Page]Gratifications from Lorenzo de Medici Aretin thinking there to be no other Manu­scripts than his, of Procopius his History, burns it, and has it Printed in his own Name, but his Larceny is discover'd. December pro­stitutes the Reputation of the Duke of Milan, who sets him to write his History. The Acade­micks of Rome take a fancy to travesty their Name in Greek. The Pope imagines it a cover to a Conspiracy they had contriv'd against him. He causes 'em to be secur'd, and some of 'em put upon the Rack. Platina is of this number. The Cardinals of the Conclave go to Bessarion's Cell, to make him Pope. His Conclavist, Perro­ti, sends 'em away for fear of diverting his Master from his Studies. They take pet, and chuse another. Politianus dies of a transport of Love. The Prince of Mirandola writes a­gainst Astrologers. They meet, Calculate his Nativity, and send him word, he will dye, as young as he is, before his Work is finisht. Their Prediction is fullfill'd.

The Contents of the Fifth Book.

THE Calamities of the House of Medici proceeded from the same Lodovico Sforza, who ruin'd that of Naples, and his own. A curious Recital of Piero de Medici's Imprudences, that are found mingl'd with th' [Page]Artifices of his Enemies. He flies away from Florence. He is upon the point of being re­stor'd by a French Intrigue, who foster designs of supplanting Cardinal Brissonnet. He is sought after, but not found. The true Causes of Savonarola's Advancement and Downfall. The Ursini's labour in vain to re-establish the Me­dici's, and reveal to them Valentinois's design of delivering them up to the Florentines. Va­lentin finding by whom his Design was detected, kills the Ursini's at the Feast of Senegaglia, which plunges Piero de Medici into a Despon­dency. He sides with France, and is drown'd at the Mouth of the Garigliano. His Brother, the Cardinal, withdraws to Rome, where he sharps it until his Legation. The secret Cir­cumstances of his taking at the Battel of Ra­venna, and of his escape. Soderim's Bro­ther's Covetousness, gives him occasion to bribe the Officers of the Spanish Army, which restores him in Florence. He has Machiavel there put to the Rack, then receives him into favour; but Machiavel broods his Revenge, and not finding th' occasion, procures his own Death, by a Doze unseasonably taken.

The Contents of the Sixth Book.

ERasmus th' Astrologer, and Ficino the Philosopher, Prognostic are that Cirdal [Page] Medici should be Pope, tho' not any appearance of it then. He is carried to Rome in a Litter, by reason of an Imposthume he had in a place, th [...] Modesty forbids mentioning. He enters th [...] [...]clave. The Imposthume breaks and ex­hales such a stink, that th' Old Cardinals fan­cy'd, upon the Relation of brib'd Physicians, that he will suddenly dye, and so leave off crossing his Election. A Dream of his Mother, which he remembers of himself, makes him take the Name of Leo. He repairs his Cousin Giu­lio's defect of Birth, and gives him his Cap. Massimiliano Sforza falls distracted, and puts it into Leo's Head, to make his Brother Giu­liano Duke of Milan; but is deluded by Fre­gossa, who accomodates himself with the French, Giuliano dies, young Lorenzo succeeds him, and does not resemble him. The French pass the Alpes. The Pope's afraid, and sends them an Agent, who falls into the hands of the Spa­niards, and makes 'em jealous. The Pope stops the Progresses of the Conquerours, by his inter­view with Francis the First, at Bologna, where he paulmes upon the sincerity of that Prince. He despoils the Duke of Urbin, who recovers his State. The Pope Debauches that Duke's principal Officers, he prevents them, and causes their Souldiers to punish them. Leo, tho' indebted for the Popedom to Cardinal Petrucci, drives his House out of Sienna. The Cardinal Conspires [Page]against him, is discover'd and strangled in a Dun­geon, by an AEthiopian. A strange Conference of Cardinal Cornetan with a Magician, who tells him nothing but the Truth, and yet de­ludes him. The Sacred Colledge is animated a­gainst the Pope, who, out of spight, creates one and thirty Cardinals in one day; but the greatest Enemy of his House happens to be of the number. He frames a League against the French, and, beyond all hopes, drives them out of Italy; but in the very moment he receives the Tydings, Malespina poysons him with Pills▪ The Rats eat off his Nose the Night following, by having but one Servant left with him, who falls asleep.

The Contents of the Seventh Book.

EƲlogies of the Wits that were honour'd with Leo's Friendship, or receiv'd Gratuities from him. Which is the best writ History we have, since those of the Ancients. The Astrologer Tibertus fore­sees his own Death, and the most extraordinary manner, by which it was to happen, without its being in his Pow'r to avoid it. Cocles, of the same Profession, has the same Destiny, and yet not mi­staken in any of the Nativities he had Calculated of his Friends, no, not ev'n in those that were to happen after his Death. Young Strozza ventures to Marry a Miss, kept by the Duke of Ferrara. His Master has him Assassinated. Crimittus [Page]dies of a Shivering, occasion'd by a Pail of Wa­ter thrown upon him by one of his Scholars, out of meer jeast. Cardinal Bibiana, being above thir­ty years older than the Pope, takes measures with Francis the First at Paris, to procure his being Elected Pope, at the first Conclave at Rome. The Pope is inform'd of the Design, stays him to Dinner, and presents him with a Bit. Bi­biana fancies it to be poyson'd, and yet dares not dispense himself from swallowing it. He re­turns home, and takes a Counter-poison, which does not hind [...] him from breathing his last three hours after. Pompone Gauric vanishes in his travelling along the Po, and is never more heard of, thro' the Revenge of a Lady, to whom he had presented a Declaration of Love in Verse. Count Baltazar Castiglione, in his Practice, con­tradicts the Rules he had laid down for a per­fect Courtier. He is assur'd that he will dye at Mantoua. He carefully avoids going thither▪ but accepts of the Embassy of Spain, not dreaming that Madrid is call'd Mantoua in Latin. There he dies.

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS.

IT is a surprizing thing, that none of the Authors who have written the History of Florence, have kept them­selves within the bounds of Modera­tion, when they speak of the House of Medicis, before it was raised to the Sove­raignty. Those whom either Jealousie or [...]ll-will have animated against that Family, [...]ave endeavoured to give it an Original so [...]ow, and little answearable to its present Greatness, that it were more advantageous [Page 2]not to be known at all, than after such a manner. Others thought flattery justifi­able, in a Subject, which those that wrote be­fore them had handled so Satyrically, and have represented the Condition of Old Cosmo de Medici his Ancestors so far above his fel­low Citizens, that we should hardly believe they had ever lived as Private Men, if we were not informed so from other Hands.

Some there were, towards the middle of the last Age, who to make their Court the better with Katharine of Medicis, would have perswaded her she was of French Extraction both by Father and Mother, and that not above three hundred years before, one Juli­an of Medicis went out of Poictou into Tusca­ny, with a Troop of Horse, which he car­ried into the Service of the Commonwealth of Florence.

For my own part, as I have no other de­sign, than to collect those Truths which other Histories have either purposely, or [...] of Ignorance omitted, I cannot chuse but say, that the House of Medicis has always been accounted Noble, since Florence pur­chased its freedom of the Emperour Rodol­phus the First; of which their Profession of Merchandize, wherewith they are reproach'd is a Proof, since all the Florentine Historians agree, that almost all the Gentlemen of their [Page 3]Country were engaged in Commerce, and that the most considerable Families had Factors in the best Towns of Europe.

It was by these means that Cosmo de Me­dici, sirnam'd the Old, came to be much richer than any Prince in Italy of his time: for though some suppose that the famous Balthazar Cossa, who was deposed from the Popedom, discovered to him at his Death where he had hid his Treasure; this good luck might perhaps lay the Foundation of his Fortune, but did not raise it to that height, to which it arrived ten years after, when there was no part of the World, from Persia to Andaluzia, that was not subservient to his Traffick.

The difference of Religions hindred him not from treating with Infidels; and the con­stant correspondence he kept with the Turkish Emperours then regnant, caused those Princes to let his Factors settle themselves in the room of those of Genoa, and Venice, whom for Reasons of State they expelled out of the most trading places of Thrace, and the les­ser Asia. The Emirs of Babylon, and the Mamalukes of Egypt facilitated his Transpor­tation of the Silks and most precious Com­modities of the Mogols Countrey, and he made so good a hand of the needy Conditi­on to which the Paleologi, Emperours of Con­stantinople, [Page 4]were reduced, that they sold him the best part of the Jewels, and splendid Fur­niture, the remainders of the Luxury of the Justinians, and Porphyrogeniti, at very low rates. In a word, he arrived at that Wealth, and Power, that his Countrey-men, though used to the same immoderate gain, grew Jealous of his Greatness.

The Government of Florence at that time was Popular in appearance; but so temper'd, that the Ancient Families, which were the Strozzi, Peruzzi, Barbadori, and Albizzi, bore the principal sway. They were not indeed very well united among themselves, but yet agreed in their obedience to him that was eldest among them, and perform'd his Com­mands with as much Zeal as if he had been their Soveraign. Hence it came, that their Head found it so easie to engage them in the ruine of Cosmo de Medici. After they had resolved themselves to destroy him, they as­sembled the People on the sudden, and told them, Cosmo was the sole author of the mi­sery to which the Republick of Florence was then brought; that it was he who kept Men at work at Lyons, and Antwerp, upon those Manufactures which France, Spain, and England were wont to send for out of Tuscany, and who by consequence, under pretence of selling better pennyworths, took [Page 5]the Bread out of his fellow Citizens Mouths, to inrich Strangers; that there was not a Merchant in Florence, let his credit be ne­ver so good, whom he did not ruine, by ad­vancing of prodigious Sums before-hand to those that had occasion, and by his crafty buying up of the finest Silks, and best Spi­ces upon the place, and Transporting them at less charge, which made him more conside­rably a gainer, though he sold at cheaper rates; his Factors affording their Goods for less by one Third then others, which brought them in so much Custom, that all other Warehouses besides their own were shut up.

There needed no more then thus to touch upon the Peoples weak side, who were extra­ordinary covetous, to stir them up against Cosmo de Medici; he was presently order'd to be arrested, and clapt up in Prison, where he was carefully guarded to prevent his escape. His Enemies stopp'd here, because they had not at first plotted to do him any further mischief, imagining, that by keeping him from acting, they should sufficiently inter­rupt his Commerce, and establish their own. But when they considered, that no Euripus was more subject to ebb and flow than the inconstant humour of the Florentines, who ne­ver continued a week in the same mind, nor were likely to do otherwise now, and that [Page 6]in all events, their chie [...] Magistrate, whom they call Gonfalonier, changing every two Months, it might very well come to pass, that the Peoples Votes might fall upon some Friend of Cosmus, who would be sure to set him at Liberty. Upon these and the like re­flexions, the Prisoners Death was resolved on, and the fittest means to effect it long sought for.

Some of the Assembly proposed to try him before the People; and undertook to find out Crimes, and Witnesses sufficient to take away his Life. But others, who were more numerous, thought that way of Pro­ceeding would be too tedious; and that while they were about it, some Disturbance or other would infallibly happen in the Town, which would be a Means to let him out of Prison. They resolved therefore to dispatch him as soon as possible; and because Poyson was the secretest Means, that was ap­proved of. In order to this, Rodolp Peruzzi, the Head of that Family, and the most Con­siderable of Cosmus his Enemies, was imploy­ed to visit and tamper with Frederig [...] Malavolti, the Keeper of the Publick Prisons, and to engage him not to let Cosm [...] have any Meat brought him, but what they should send him. Malavolti, in plain terms, was a Man indifferent, neither Good not [Page 7]Bad; and being neither Cosmus his Friend, nor his Enemy, seemed not to decline an Opportunity of making his Fortune, pro­vided it might be so contrived, that he might have more Profit to hope for, than Danger to fear. Perruzzi sounded him a good while before he open'd the Business, which he thought not fit to do, till he saw him disposed to receive it calmly. But in doing this, he committed a Fault, which No­vious in such Intrigues are very subject to; he spoiled the Business, by betraying too much eagerness to have it succeed. He of­fer'd Malavolti so considerable a Sum of Money at first dash, that, though it were not extravagant in respect of the vast Riches of Cosmo's Enemies, yet it easily suggested to him whom it was offer'd to, that what they asked of him was of mighty impor­tance, since they were so very liberal to ob­tain it. Upon these grounds he answered Perruzzi in such Terms, as though they were something doubtful, yet made him guess, if he were not gained the first time, the second or third Onset at most would make sure of him. Perruzzi satisfied to have advanced so far, gave the rest of the Conspirators an ac­count of what he had done. But while they were thus preparing the Money and the Poyson, Cosmus himself was strangely di­sturbed [Page 8]in his Thoughts. He was of a pe­netrating Wit, as usually all the Florentine are; and the perfect knowledge he had o [...] the Genius and Temper of his Enemies, made him quickly apprehend they would practise upon his Life the very same way on which they had pitch'd. Upon this Supposition he had not eaten one bit of what had been dress'd for him in four days; which long Abstinence so weakned him, who was other wise of a good strong Constitution, that Ma­lavolti, who visited him from time to time was afraid he would starve himself, and so make him lose the Money which was offer'd him. To prevent this, he went into Cosmo's Chamber, whither he caused his Supper to be brought, tasted the Meat before him and with a chearful Countenance invited him to take part. After they had eaten, they had some Discourse, in which Cosmo failed not to insinuate to his Host, That though his Ene­mies were possess'd of his Estate, yet he had Treasure still conceal'd in Florence, enough to enrich any man who durst set him at liberty These Words made so much the more Im­pression on Malavolti, because he was not ignorant of the common Report, That his Prisoner, for fear of appearing too rich in [...] Popular Government, had not yet taken al [...] the ready Money out of the Ground, which [Page 9] Balthasar Cossa discover'd to him at his death. And as weak Minds are always persuaded by those who set upon them last, Malavolti was easily convinc'd, there was more to be got by Cosmo of Medici, than by Perruzzi, For this Reason he made it his Bus'ness now to chear up his Prisoner; and Cosmo, in Complement to him, told him, he could the rather wish to be rid of his Melancholy, that he might likewise contribute something of his side to their Entertainment. Malavolti replied, he would soon cure him if he pleas'd, by bringing Farganaccio to dine with him next day, whose Company was so diverting, that it was impossible to be weary of it. This Farganaccio was a Fellow of very mean Birth, but the pleasantness of his Conversa­tion had gain'd him a Familiarity with the best Citizens of Florence. He always made one in Designs of Mirth and Pleasure; and though he was of an Humour in some things passionate enough, yet he was for the most part so supple and complaisant; that he never made any Quarrel. He mimickt all sorts of People admirably well; and his Raillery, which he made use of upon all Occasions, never carried him so far as to speak ill of any body. However, this Talent did not gain him that Esteem with People of Quality which he seem'd to deserve, because he was [Page 10]quite another Man when he kept company with those of his own Rank: for then [...] gave himself all manner of Liberty, and would be drunk with them several days to­gether; which rendred him contemptible to the Best of the Citizens, those especially who had Power in the Election of Magistrates, in whose opinion he pass'd for a Buffoon, that without great indiscretion was not to be trusted with any thing of Moment. Cos­mus of Medicis, who knew him better, thought otherwise of him, distinguishing him from those Gluttonous Bruits, who are so meerly to gratifie their Appetite, whereas he only indulged himself sometimes, to banish troublesome and afflicting thoughts; and as such, looked upon him not unfit to be im­ploy'd in so hazardous an Affair; and there­fore told Malavolti, he should be glad to be diverted by him next day at noon. Farge­naccio came, and was as facetious as what he could invent, or had learnt of that kind, cou'd make him: Cosmo seem'd not to be at all moved with it at first, but by de­grees gave way, and was so taken with him at last, that Malavolti before he went his ways immediately after Dinner, to dispatch a­way some Letters in his Closet, and not judging it Civility to leave his Prisoner so soon alone, told him, that he begg'd his Pardon, because he was going to leave him [Page 11]for a quarter of an hour, but that in recom­ [...]ense, he left him with Farganaccio, whose [...]y and jocund humour would afford him a much better entertainment. This wholly jumping with Cosmo's desires, he thanked him for his Courtesie, and as soon as he was gone, accosting Farganaccio, he caress'd him, and let him know, that it was in his power to be his Deliverer, and assur'd him, that he should want neither Money nor Jew­els, if he would undertake a Work both so just and glorious.

Farganaccio would at first have compli­mented off the Business, waving it with ex­cuses of its not lying in his power, but Cos­mo de Medici let him see, that he knew him much better than he imagined. He discoursed him upon the secret Alliance he long had had with Bernardo Guadagni, who was at that time Grand Gonfaloniere, that is to say, the Soveraign Magistrate of Florence. He added, that as Guadagni had already been a Month elected, and that by Consequence he had but one Month more to be in his Of­fice, there was no time to be lost for the sa­ving an honest Man; that his Innocence was so obvious, that his very Enemies were perswaded of it, and that all his pretended Crimes were summ'd up in his having by lawful means rendred himself the richest Sub­ject in Italy.

Afterwards he fell to exaggerating the ma­lice of those who designed his Ruine, h [...] ran over the means they had of bringing [...] to pass, and without affording Farganaccio the leisure of making any answer, he con­cluded his Discourse with slipping into his Hand half a Ring, in order to his carrying [...] to the Prior of the Jacobins, who would no sooner see it, but he wou'd give him a hundred Crowns of Gold, which he besought him to accept for the first Present; and a thousand others, which he desired him to present to Guadagni on his behalf.

I cannot say which most pleased Farga­naccio, the Liberality of Cosmo de Mediet, or the extream confidence he put in him; but this I know, that either the one or other of those two Qualities stagger'd him so much, that he had alread pouched the half Ring and swore secresie and fidelity to his new Benefactor, when that Malavolti came in to 'em again, and obliged them by his pre­sence to behave 'emselves after a less serious manner.

They stay'd not long together, and Farga­naccio took his leave of 'em as soon as he could, under colour of a meeting he had ap­pointed for the Evening, but in effect, to re­turn unto his own House, and there concert what he had to do. He examined all the [Page 13]Motives capable of tying him to keep or di­ [...]t him from his Word with Cosmo; But [...] sin [...], the hopes of becoming Rich, made him, fully resolve upon sticking to his Pro­mise. The next Morning at break of Day [...]e went to the Monastery of the Jacobins, where he saw the Prior, and leading him in­ [...]ensibly into a by place, he shew'd him the half Ring, and instantly received the Sum that had been promised him, and that which was to be presented to Guadagni.

Then he march'd directly to the Gonfaloni­ [...]re's Palace, and tho the Porter let him know his Lord was still asleep, yet he went into his Chamber, a long familiarity having ac­quired him that Priviledge. He waited till Guadagni was awake, and the first thing he did after having Goodmorrow'd him, was telling over before his Face the Charming Crowns of Gold which he brought. Guadagni surpriz'd at this novelty, asked him, who had made him so Rich; and Farganaccio reparteed, that he was only his Treasurer. And there­upon, putting on his Gravity, he told the Gonfaloniere his Days before adventure, with­out the least Disguise. He was allow'd a more favourable hearing than he expected: For though Guadagni was none of Cosmo's Friends, yet neither was he his Enemy, and as he had never had any difference with him, [Page 14]he wav'd entring into the League that [...] ­formed for his Ruine.

This Consideration joined to the Iust [...] ­ces of Farganaccio, and the glory of fre [...] out of danger an innocent Person of Cosmo de Medici's Merit, who was capable of acknow­ledging most magnificently the Services th [...] were done him, made him accept the thou­sand Crowns, and engag'd him by consequence to set all Hands at work for his Deliverance He wisely foresaw, that in case he gave [...] least time to the Prisoner's Adversaries, the [...] would press Malavolti to poyson him; a [...] that if Malavolti persisted to fence off th [...] Undertaking, they had sufficient Credit [...] Florence to raise a dangerous Sedition, by en­gaging all the Mobile of their Dependency [...] take Arms, and by leading 'em directly [...] the Prisons; which it would be easie for the [...] to force, and there massacre Cosmo, aft [...] the Magistrate could use any Prevention Wherefore this Stroke was to be parry [...] off by a subtile Counter-stratagem. He pre­tended to lend an Ear to those that sollic­ted him to declare himself against Cosmo de Medici, and perswaded 'em so cunningly th [...] he was as keen as they upon this Prisoner that they fancy'd, they had drawn him in [...] their Enterprise.

Of this an Account was given in their [Page 15]Assembly, where Malavolti's I resolutions [...]eing ballanc'd with the new Face the As­ [...] took, by Guadagni's pretended Declara­tion, they chang'd the Resolution of poy­ [...]ning Cosmo, and renew'd that which had been rejected, of ruining him by Form of Law. Guadagni desiring nothing more than the having reduc'd them to this Point, took upon him to favour 'em in all that should depend on the Magistracy. The Enditement was drawn up by the Subalternate Judges, and carried afterwards to the Council of Eight, where Matters of State are examined. Cosmo de Medici was there accus'd of having plotted against the Liberty of his Country; long Hearings were given to the Delatores and Evidences: the Witnesses deposed, and were confronted; and in few days the Af­fair was in that posture, as cast Cosmo into a strange uncertainty of his Life, notwith­standing that his Conscience reproach'd him not in the least, and from time to time he receiv'd from Farganaccio secret Advices of his having nothing to fear. Guadagni hast'ned the Proceedings as much as possibly he could, and Cosmo de Medici his Enemies contributed thereunto with all their might, as being prepossess'd with an Opinion, that it was their Interest so to do. Never­theless, in this they were deluded, and [Page 16] Guadagni the more cleaverly bubbl'd thei [...] Credulity: for having adjusted his [...] ­ [...]rigues in the Council of Eight, and secu [...] a number of Suffrages sufficient to examp [...] the Defendent from Death, he caused the Pro­cess to be summ'd up two days sooner than was expected by the Enemies of Cosmo and he himself pronounc'd a Sentence which deserves the being warily examined seing it has no Circumstances but what are very Curious.

He had judiciously foreseen; that in ca [...] the Prisoner was absolved, he would be al­most in as great danger as if he had been condemned to Death, because his Enemies were daily making Parties to assassinate him; and this was the Reason which hindred him from declaring him Innocent. Neither was he ignorant, that it was the making him run the same hazard, to impose upon him any other sort of Punishment than that of Exile, by reason of the Power of his Adversaries throughout all the Territory of Florence. and this it was that brass'd him for Banish­ment. He was convinc'd that if he waited for the Day appointed for the Sentence; Cosmo's Enemies would appear there with an Equipage capable of doing Violence to the Magistrates, and so have execu­ted with their own Hands what should [Page 17]have been wanting to the Rigour of the Sen­tence; and this made him anticipate it. In fine, He knew, that at least without going himself, with all the Officers of Justice, to free Cosmo de Medici out of Prison, and con­duct him to the very Territories of another Soveraign, those who aimed at his Life would be soon enough on Horseback to snap or kid-nap him upon the Ways; and this made him put that express Clause in the Sentence, under pretext that Cosmo de Medici his Friends were sufficiently powe [...]ful to re­scue him from the Rigour of Justice. Thus he Ordain'd, That Cosmo should be forth­with banish'd for ever from the City and State of Florence; and that the Magistrate should go incessantly and fetch him out of Prison, and conduct him till the full Execu­tion of the Sentence.

This was accordingly executed with that Dispatch, as startled the most vigilant of Cosmo his Friends, and his very Enemies too. The Prisoner knew nothing of the Sen­tence, but by the signification that was made to him thereof, though he had scouting abroad a great number of trusty Spies; and the Keeper Malavolti, was much amaz'd to see he was robb'd of his Prisoner, and de­priv'd at the same time of all the advantages he might have reap'd from a longer Custo­dy. [Page 18]But Cosmo de Medici, his Enemies fell into an extream Consternation, when they learnt all at a clap, that he had been try'd, put out of Prison, and conducted to the Frontiers.

This News breaking all their Measures, made such an operation in their Minds, as was extreamly propitious to their Enemy: For they left off pursuing him until they had anew consulted among themselves in what manner to prosecute their aims; and this little Truce gave Cosmo de Medici timeto draw from Florence, and the Parts adjacent, the better par [...] of the Effects he had there lying conceal'd.

All their fury was bent against Guadagni, and his Posterity still smarts at this day, for the Losses they made him suffer, tho' Ca­terina de Medici, being become Queen o [...] France, transplanted it into that Kingdom, and it lately Commanded the Armie [...] of the French Monarch in Africa. They ruin'd his Commerce, they discredite [...] him among Strangers, and with the very same People that adored him afore, they so per­plex'd his Magistracy, that it was more bur­densome to him than useful, and their rag [...] proceeded so far, as to endeavour the ex­citing a Sedition, in order to the depos [...] him before the expiration of the time ap­pointed for his remaining Gonfaloniere. But [...] [Page 19]the thought of this only whirl'd the youn­gest Heads among the Faction, it w [...] not approved by the old Blades, and they left Gua­dagni to finish out the Month ordained by the Laws.

However for all this, he came not off at a cheaper rate; for no sooner was he re-en­tred into a private Condition, than that he fell under the Prosecution of the Law. He was summon'd to give a severe account of his Administration; his most innocent A­ctions were rendred Criminal, and he com­pell'd to undergo the same Punishment he had imposed on Cosmo de Medici. Some probability there is, that they would have pusht on farther their Attacks, if those who demanded his Life, had not found two in­vincible Obstacles to their Design; the one from the Relations Guadagni had on his side, who upheld him too powerfully with the new Gonfaloniere, and the other from the Nobility, who did not consent but with regret to the Exile of their ancient Magistrate, and declared openly, that if any thing more was expected from them, they wou'd take up Arms, and disunite themselves from the Commons. Guadagni being expell'd his Country, retired to Cosmo de Medici at Venice, where they both joyntly endeavour'd to procure their Re establish­ment. [Page 20]This was not so difficult a matter for [...]her of them to compass in a juncture, when their Interests were joyned, as if they had been separated, because the mu­tual Friends they had at Florence, having had the leisure to know, and put an entire Confidence in each other, took more fitting measures for that purpose, and caus'd Let­ters in Cypher to be delivered, ever and anon to the Exiles, by which they gave 'em to understand, that they needed only prescribe to them the Method that was to be followed in the pursuit of their Re­peal.

Guadagni, Whose humour was more sin­cere, but more impatient too than that of Cosmo de Medici, wou'd have had it gone about immediately, and that by the wonted ways. But Cosmo de Medici, who better understood the Genius of the Florentines, to be brought over, and the obstinacy of the Persons that made Head against 'em, wa [...] of Opinion to take a much longer Cir­cuit. He propos'd that his Friends shou' [...] assemble with those of Guadagni, that they should pitch upon the Person of 'em all mos [...] proper to mannage the Affair in hand, an [...] adjust their Intrigues for the chusing a Gon­faloniere, and then start and fall to urgin [...] he Repeal. This Expedient was at leng [...] [Page 21]judg'd the most healing by Guadagni him­self, who gave way, and writ in Conse­quence to those of his Faction. They appoin­ted the Rendezvous to Cosmo de Medici his Friends in the Monastery de la Reparata. They agreed upon the necessity of procu­ring a Supreme Magistrate to be chosen that was of their own Body. They Exa­min'd in order the fittest Persons for that Dignity, and concluded at last upon the Per­son of Nicolo Cocco, a Friend of Guadagni's. They Cabal'd for the Suffrages the two ensu­ing Months in his favour; and as he was equal­ly belov'd by the Nobility and the People, they found no great trouble in obtaining them. Not but that Cosmo de Medici his Enemies did oppose the Election, when he was put into Nomination; but they perceived it so late, that they had not the leisure either to Concert among them­selves, or put in practice the Artifices neces­sary to elude it.

Thus was Cocco Elected Gonfaloniere, and did not frustrate the hopes which the Exiles had conceived of his Fidelity. By little and little, he accustomed the Florentines to hear them named in Publick Assemblies, and in good part to hear them mentioned. Then fell he to offer things in their justification, and succeeded immediately in what regard­ed [Page 22]the Person of Guadagni: For as Farga­naccio had acted his part so cunningly, [...] that the World had not had the least sus­picion of his Intrigue, those very Persons who had most contributed to Guadagni's Banishment, did not reckon him culpable of ought else, than the being hurry'd o [...] by an excess of Zeal to free out of Pri­son a Man he thought Innocent; besides that, they were perswaded, that by slack­ning in the Person of Guadagni, they should be the less suspected of Envy and Partiali­ty, when they should come to struggle a­gainst the Repeal of Cosmo de Medici, which was to them of much other Importance.

But an accident they had not foreseen, surprized in this point the Delicacy of their Reasoning: For in a short time after Gua­dagni's return to Florence, Cosmo de Me­dici, who try'd all possible ways for his be­ing recall'd, bethought himself to settle at Venice the Center and Staple of his Com­merce, and there have the Manufactures wrought, which were afore so done by hi [...] Orders in the City and Territory of Flo­rence. From hence ensu'd two notable In­conveniences to the Florentines; the one that as there are Connexions and Depen­dancies in point of Traffick, which are on­ly well known by those that meddle tha [...] [Page 23]way, the Commerce of Cosmo de Medici coming to change its Principal Place, made a Cessation to that of the Principal Mer­chants of Florence, or at least weakned it in such manner, that these publick Com­plaints were daily heard to ring, Que Per­sonne ne gaignoit plus rien, That Trading's now quite Dead. The other Inconvenience was, that the common People losing the certain occasion of dayly getting Money by working the Manufactory, and not finding any body that employ'd 'em in other Works, there was all of a sudden such a strange Revolution made in Peoples Minds, that the recalling of Cosmo de Medici was wish'd for by all the Corporations which composed the Republick, with so much eagerness, that his Enemies durst not traverse it any longer.

Thus Cocco had nought else to do, than to put this Repeal into Deliberation, and cast up the Suffrages of those who were to ordain it. Cosmo de Medici thank'd the Se­nate of Venice for the Protection they had afforded him, and return'd to Florence with Acclamations that already distinguish'd him from private Persons. He received Visits from all the Orders, and honest Malavolti fail'd not to crowd in with those who went to Congratulate his Return. Cosmo received him with very particular Caresses, and Ma­lavolti, [Page 24]whether he expected some reward, or out of an itch usual in Old Men, he would derive a vanity from what he had wav'd doing, he chanc'd to bolt out to Cosmo de Medici, that he was more oblig'd to him than he imagin'd. Cosmo not un­derstanding the ambiguous sense of these Words; answered him very civilly, that he was sensible he had favour'd him with all imaginable Obligations,; and Malavolti re­ply'd with some emotion, but you do not think you are indebted to me for your Life. Cosmo then perceived that Malavolti had a grudging to inform him of a thing to which he was till then a stranger, but as he was no [...] in a place fitting to receive an Illustration of this nature, he pretended not to have smelt out any thing new, and rested satis­fied with telling Malavolti, that he knew himself eternally his Debtor. Then he turn'd to other Persons of Quality, who came to Complement him on the occasion and there the Conversation fell. But as soon as Cosmo de Medici had got rid of his Vi­sits, he went to pay a private one to Ma­lavolti, when putting him again on the Discourse, which he said they had been con­strain'd to interrupt, by reason of there be­ing too many Witnesses, he put him so ma­ny Questions, and led him through so many [Page 25]turnings and mazes of pumping, that the ho­nest Man, after having spent all his put offs and shiftings, was at length reduc'd to con­fess, that Perruzzi had been several times to sollicite him, and had offer'd him a con­siderable sum to dispose him not to give his Prisoner any other Food than what he should cause to be prepared for him. Upon this Information Cosmo de Medici made his Addresses and Complaints to the Gonfalo­niere, upon which an Order was issued out for the taking Perruzzi into Custody.

The Barrigel of Florence seized the Per­son of Perruzzi, who out-fac'd the Exami­nation, but not his Confrontation with Malavolti. He own'd the Fact, and then seeing they were going to put him upon the Rack, he discover'd all the secret of the Conspiracy against Cosmo de Medici. Nicolo Albizzi, and Palla Strozzi, were taken up upon his Deposition, being the Heads of three Illustrious Families of the same Name. The Council of Eight try'd the Cause, and it was past all Question, that the Suffrages of the Judges were leaning to Death, when that Cosmo de Medici making a serious Re­flexion upon his own Interests, resolv'd and perceiv'd, that if he persever'd to have the Death of so many Persons of Quality, he should incur an immortal hatred, and would [Page 26]make so many his Enemies, that it woul [...] be impossible for him to live at Florence t [...]ence-forward without Guards, which could not be granted him in a Republick without Magistracy, which however he had proposed to himself never to accept: Where­as if he contented himself with causing 'em to be punish'd in a perpetual Banishment, on the one side he delivered himself from the only Persons from whom he need to fear a second staggering of his Fortune, and on the other, he did not push any o [...] his Enemies into despair. On the contra­ry, he reconcil'd himself with those wh [...] had Souls so Noble, as to be touch'd wi [...] an Heroick Act of Gallantry.

This it was which made him take ne [...] measures with his Friends, and sollicite fo [...] those whose Ruine he had vow'd. The Judge [...] willingly acquiesced in the Request he mad [...] 'em, there being very little of any othe [...] bodies Interests than his own in this Affair▪ and besides, they did not without Re­luctance go about to make so great an Ex­ample in a Popular State. Thus the Cri­minals came off with a perpetual Exil [...] after they had been made sensible they would not have been treated with so muc [...] Clemency, if they had not found in th [...] Heart of him they had offended Sent­ments [Page 27]contrary to the severity of the Laws.

Cosmo de Medici having rid himself of his inemies under so plausible a Pretext, had hardly ought else to do, than to reap the fruit which his Fortune had produc'd him. All those who pretended to the Magistra­cy were not satisfied with Courting his friendship, they affected such a Dependan­cy on his Will, that there was now no­thing done of moment without having consulted Cosmo. The House he caused to be built, not very Stately indeed, but ve­ry Spacious and Convenient, was the secret Place where the Resolutions were brooded, that were afterwards to be hatcht in the Council of Eight; and here it was that they concluded to humble the Pride of the Pistoians, who had made an Insurrection, with a general Destruction of their Houses, and they examined a way to reduce by mildness the Pisans, who afterwards fell into the same fault, that they might baulk the Neighbouring Potentates of a Pretext to intervene and meddle in those Matters.

Yet this was done with so little Noise and Pomp, that the People of Florence, tho' extraordinany Jealous of their Freedom, did not conceive any Umbrage upon these Mo­tions, [Page 28]because that Cosmo de Medici was be­come more circumspect by his own Expe­rience, and lived after a manner as was in nothing different from that of mean Citi­zens. He had openly declared that he woul [...] not aspire to any Magistracy, nor woul [...] he accept any in case it was offer'd him and he held so firm upon this Article, that after having himself quasht divers Ca­bals in his Favour, he obtained the [...] should be no more talk of him in Electi­ons. However he failed not to appear an [...] act efficaciously in Publick Assemblies, b [...] it was ever after a disinteressed manner i [...] appearance, and only to support Me­rit when it was known, or for the man [...] ­festing it when it was not. Otherwise [...] was seen to walk alone, and on foot in th [...] Streets. His Cloaths were plain, and [...] modest his Table, that there were no othe [...] Provisions spent than what his Country House of Mugello furnisht. He had not on useless Domestick, or what served fo [...] State and Ornament; each had his sever [...] Employment, and medled not with wha [...] others did.

It did not appear that Cosmo de Medic [...] had any other Application than Merchan­dize, and as he had admirable success, a [...] he was still introducing some Flore [...] ­ [...]ine [Page 29]by turns into the Society of his Trade and Gain, the more he got, the more was he blessed in the Town; so far were they from entertain­ing any jealousie on that account, tho' his Gains were great and frequent: For he per­haps was the only man to whom all those who have trade with him have given this Testimony, that in so long a Life as was his, and during fifty four years of continual traf­fick and sorts of things, in all the noted Marts of the known World, he had ever had the happiness of never suffering any loss, and of never losing any opportunity of gaining.

Not but that he expended much, and even more than was suitable to a private Person in the Alms he distributed, and in the Edifi­ces of Piety which he caused to be built: But the People, as I have already observed, were so prepossessed with the thought that it was only with the Money of Balthasar Cos­sa, and for the Executing the secret Orders which that degraded Pope had left him, that what matter tho' they saw him found Ho­spitals, re-establish Monasteries desolated by the Faction of the Guelphs, and build new ones, they commended Cosmo de Medici his Piety, and did not penetrate farther into the bottom of his heart. He liv'd at this rate unto an extreme old Age, without suffe­ring any inconveniences, and dyed in the [Page 30]Arms of his Friends. He was enterred [...] the Church of St. Lorenzo which he him self had built, where the Publick erecte [...] him a kind of Mausoleum, in the Frontispie [...] of which there was written in Latin, Cos­mus Medicis situs est decreto publico Pater P [...] ­triae. By order of the Common-wealth, here lie Cosmo de Medici, surnamed the Father of [...] Country.

He left a Son called Piero, who h [...] but one of his Father's good qualities, namely that of husbanding his Estate. He had ne [...] ­ther the Will to acquire any, nor a Soul [...] ­pable of Publick Affairs. It was too much wound up in it self, and in his Domestic [...] Matters, as if Nature had given it no vast [...] Extent. Not that any thing had been neg­lected as might serve to enlarge it, an [...] make it take a much higher flight: For the famous Poggio having charg'd himself with his Education, had given him the Precep [...] of the Greek and Latin Tongue, he had en­deavoured to render him a Philosopher, b [...] seeing his understanding was not capable [...] serious matters, he humbled the Ma­jesty of his stile, even to the Composin [...] Books of Stories at leisure hours.

He did not stick to mingle therein, an in­finite number of unbeseeming circumstanc [...] as knowing very well this to be the last [...] ­cret [Page 31]for the dissipating the numness and stu­ [...]action of his Scholar. Nevertheless Pie­ [...] de Medici continu'd still in his Primitive [...]lness. He had only comprehended things of his own reach, and tho' he wanted neither Curiosity nor Application to the most sub­sume, he never cou'd attain 'em. In a word, he seem'd only to be born for the renewing in his time and Commonwealth the example of old Cato's Son, whom the Romans made use of, to shew the great difference there was com­monly between Great Men and the Chil­dren they left behind 'em. And indeed Pie­ro de Medici not only wanted the Virtues of his Father, but besides he had neither his Father's good Meen nor vigorof Body. The Gout which had begun to torment him at fif­teen years of age, had almost robb'd him of the use of hands and feet, and reduc'd him to budge no otherwise from home, than by being carry'd in a Litter to Mugel­lo.

His Father had plainly foreseen that these natural infirmities would undermine all the Foundations of the greatness of his Fami­ly, and fell about remedying them by all the ways his Policy could suggest: For at home he had acquired Friends in all the Orders of the Republick, and had engag'd those Friends to maintain him by an enter­course [Page 32]of Interests, which could neither be more close or more necessary. He had Cull'd out some among 'em to serve him for Counsel, and others he appointed for the Execution of what should be undertaken most nice or bold, according to the Di­versity of their Genius and Profession. Abroad he had made alliance with two of the greatest Potentates that were then in Italy, namely Ferrand of Arragon, King of Naples, and Galeazzo Sforza Duke of Milan. And as it was certain, that Italy in general had nothing to fear, as long as those two Princes should act in unanimity and Conjun­ction, it was no less indubitable, that the State of Florence in particular would not suf­fer any alteration, as long as they wou [...] maintain by their Authority the Govern­ment that was there established.

Yet notwithstanding all these Precautions Cosmo de Medici had no sooner his Eyes clos'd but there arose in Florence against his So a Faction more formidable without Compa­rison, than had been that of Petruzzi. It [...] not well known who began it, but the Pi [...] ­ti's were one of the most Illustrious House of Florence, and the most knowing kne [...] not of any more Ancient; they only yi [...] ­ded in Riches to that of Medici, and [...] jealousie they had of it, proceeded from th [...] [Page 33]bating that sort of Goods which Chance, Industry, or Wariness bring, they exceeded it in all those which come frōm Birth and Vertue. They were three Brothers, and se­ven Cousin-Germans of the same Name, who had all mingl'd the Profession of Arms with the Study of Polite Learning: And as the Works in Verse and Prose, which still remain of their Composure, are authentick Proofs of the Beauty of their Genii; the Hi­story of the Civil War, that ruffl'd the King­dom of Naples under Ferrand the Old, gives so advantageous an Account of their Valour, that there's no room for wonder, that they could not without some uneasiness endure to see preferr'd before 'em in the Administrati­on of Publick Affairs, such a Man as Piero de Medici, whose Father perk'd up onely out of the Order of bare Gentlemen, that was almost the onely one of his Name, and who had not for his own part neither a Wit strong enough to give Counsels to the Republick, nor Feet in a condition to go where the Ser­vice of his Country might call him, nor Arms [...]gorous enough to defend it against its Ene­ [...]ies.

This was what made the Pitti's proceed [...]om the Aversion of the Medici, and the Contempt of Piero's Person, to the Des gn [...] dispatching him cut of the World. It [Page 34]was impossible to bring this about by any other way than that of Assassination; and the Measures to that purpose were nick'd for the time he should return from his Coun­try-House, whither he had caus'd himself to be carried, for the enjoying the Delights of the Fair Season, whose use was not obstruct­ed by his Infirmities. His House at Florence was situated at the bottom of the Town near a Gate, which was seis'd on by the Con­spirators, there to do the Feat. Afterward they were to have put Piero de Medici's Hea [...] ­upon the top of a Pike, to carry it along the Streets, and cry Liberty; to assemble those of their Faction, and lead 'em directly to the Town-house, convening the Peo­ple, and causing the Magistrates to be de­posed, and others put in their room, wh [...] should banish all those of the House of Me­dici that were suspected by them, and woul [...] give them the Confiscation of the Riche [...] they had scrap'd together.

Spies were sent to scout abroad, to disco­ver the Hour and Day of Piero de Medici Return; and to a Minute was it known The Ruffians took their Post, and Piero who was in a Litter, followed onely by tw [...] of his Servants, was going to stumble into their Hands, when out of a meer Whim, [...] secret Foreknowledge of the Danger th [...] [Page 35]threatned him, the fancy took him, before he went to his own Home, to call in at the House of a Friend of his, Lanti by [...]ame, who dwelt just at the Top, that is, [...]t the other end of the City, without other Design however than to surprise him with an unexpected Visit, and with him chat away some Hours. Wherefore, thither he went, and found Lanti, who would needs make him stay and sup with him, and sent him away so well accompanied, because it was Night, that there was now no means of acting any Insult upon him.

The Assassinates, who expected him out of the Gates of the Town, near his own House, under colour of Breathing and Exer­cising their Horses, seeing the Night come, bandon'd their Posts, and return'd into the City, slipping under the Avenues of Piero de Medici's House: But as there were seve­ral, and that by consequence they must di­vide themselves to keep 'em, Piero de Medici returning home, found onely three or four Armed Men, that knew him well enough, but let him pass without saying any thing to him, because they saw him in too good a Posture to be attack'd. They took their Companions from their several Stations of [...]entinel, and withdrew to the Rendezvous, there it was resolv'd, that they should in­stantly [Page 36]return into Romagna, from whence the Pitti's had sent for 'em, except one of their Company, whom they left at Florence, to receive the Money that had been pro­mis'd 'em. There was a long Contest upon this Payment, because the Deputy of the Ruffians pretended to receive the full Sum which his Accomplices had agreed upon for the committing the Murder; and his Rea­son was, That it was none of their fault, that it was not done; that they had done their endeavour to execute it; that they had ran the risque of being taken; and that as the fault lay wholly at the Pitti's door, that had not rightly laid their Plot, it was not just that those who had not contributed any thing to their Fault, should have the less Reward. The Pitti's, on the contrary maintain'd, That the Blow not having miss'd by any Cowardise or Negligence, which they could be reproach'd with, but through a meer Caprice of Fortune, that had robb'd 'em of the Victim just upon the point it wa [...] to have been sacrific'd, they could onely be tax'd half the Sum they had promised. They offer'd however to pay it all, nay, to consig [...] it into a third Hand, in case they would en­gage the Performance of the Attempt a [...] some other time. The Deputy reply'd, Tha [...] his Companions did not refuse re-engaging [Page 37]in the same Design; but to that end another Treaty was to be made, to which he had no Orders to give ear, until they had been ful­ly satisfied touching the former. The Con­versation hereupon fermented; but as the Match was not equal, the Deputy, being a cunning Fellow, fear'd lest the Pitti's, whose Power he knew in Florence, might have him clapp'd up, and perhaps procure something worse to befal him, to deliver themselves at one bout from his Importunities.

And indeed he had engag'd himself in a very ticklish Business; but he had the Ad­dress to get out of it. He pretended to grow more tractable by degrees, and to espouse the Pitti's Sentiments: He onely demanded of 'em time to confer Notes with his Companions, for the disposing 'em to a new Project. The Pitti's let him go with so much the more ease, as that they were persuaded, that in a few days he would be glad to come back with his Companions, to earn the Money he then refused. But in stead of going out of Town, he went di­rectly to the House of a Man of his Acquain­tance, who frequented Piero de Medici, and desir'd him to go tell him, That if he would obtain his Pardon, and give him the Recom­pence which the Republick had decreed to those who should discover Conspiracies [Page 38]against the State, he would reveal to him one of great Importance, and wherein hi [...] Person was concern'd.

Piero de Medici thought this Offer wa [...] not to be slighted, because he was already well informed, that there had appear'd th [...] day before in his Quarters a considerable number of Armed Horsemen, besides having himself seen his House invested. He assem­bled his Friends, who advised him to grant still more than was ask'd him. The Remis­sion was dispatch'd in secret to the Russians Deputy, who received beforehand the Su [...] ordained for Delatores. They let him take all the Precautions that the Diffidence natu­ral to those sort of Wretches inspir'd him with, and then were informed of all the Circumstances of the Pitti's Project, who were seised, and confronted. They endea­vour'd to egg on the Magistrates to the ut­most Rigour against 'em; but the fear lest their Punishment might excite a Sedition among the Common People, who adored them, prevailed over the Quality of their Crime, and over the Solli [...]itations of all the Florentines wedded to the Interests of the House of Medici. Nothing availed thei [...] remonstrating to the Magistrates by studied Speeches, That this was not the first of Crime [...] the Pitti's had attempted, and that they had [Page 39]long since meditated one of the most enor­mous, which was to plot against the Liberty of their Country; That there needed no other Proof of this, than the House they had built in the most eminent Part of the Town, since it had rather the Figure of a Regular Fortress, than a Retreat for bare Ci­tizens. This onely produc'd a Decree, That the House should be razed, and its Inhabi­tants banish'd for ever out of the State of Florence, without hopes of their Posterities ever returning thither. This Sentence, thus moderated, wrought the Effect which com­monly attends things of this nature; I mean, it inflam'd the Malady, whereas it ought to have cured it. It gall'd the Pitti's in the most sensible Part, which was that of Ho­nour, to blast them for having conspired against their Country, and yet onely impo­sed on them the slightest of Punishments, which so Criminal an Attempt did deserve. It expell'd 'em from their House, and con­strain'd 'em to lead thenceforward a Vaga­bond-Life, and yet did not retrench 'em of any of the Conveniencies they had of return­ing thither by Force of Arms. In a word, it unchain'd the Lions, and let loose the Wild Boars, without having disarm'd 'em of their Paws, their Tushes and Defences.

Thus the Magistrature of Florence was [Page 40]not long before they perceiv'd the Blunde [...] wherein their false Clemency had engaged it: But it was now too late to be remedied▪ for the Pitti's having caused all their Effect▪ to be transported to Venice, retired thither with a numerous Train of all the Orders of Florence, that would not abandon them in their Disgrace. They were joyned upon the way by the Peruzzi, the Barbadori, the Strozzi, the Albizzi, and others whom the Conspiracy fram'd against Cosmo de Medici had plung'd and abandoned into the like Mis­fortune. So many Illustrious Unfortunates together, composed such a Troop as was not to be slighted, because it had been augmented by the most Valiant Men of Tuscany, upon a Rumour which the Pitti's had cunningly caus'd to be whisper'd about, That they were not punish'd so much for their own Crimes, as for that of their Fathers. 'Twas well known in Italy, that their Ancestors had ever favour'd in private the Party of the Guelphs, though the Florentine State had openly declared for that of the Gibellins. And as there was none in Tuscany that durst put themselves at the Head of that Faction, since the last Wound Castracani had given it, those that were of it had not any fix'd abode, but spent their Life in the continual Exer­cise of Arms and Robbery, that they might [Page 41]be in the better Posture to defend it against the Gibellins, who without mercy stripp'd [...]m of all when they fell into their Hands.

These People had no sooner notice of the Pitti's Exile, but they became persuaded, that it was for the Common Cause; and what fully confirmed them in this Opinion, was, that they saw 'em retire towards Ve­nice: For as that Republick had ever been constant to the Party of the Guelphs, they did not doubt but that they were going to re-establish 'em, and took the same Road, that they might go and join themselves to their pretended Deliverers.

But the Venetian Senate had quite diffe­rent Thoughts, on so favourable a Conjun­cture which Fortune presented it. They had already for some Years been distasted with their old Policy, which consisted in aggran­ [...]izing their selves Sea-ward; whether they had been pall'd by the Obstacles they had met with from the Genoeses in the Prosecuti­on of that Design, or that they already de­spair'd of maintaining to themselves the Do­minion of the Adriatic Gulf, against such formidable Adversaries as the Ottomans; or that, in fine, they were possess'd with those Desires of Inconstancy in point of Govern­ment, with which Commonwealths are agi­tated no less violently than Monarchies, tho' not so often.

They had bent their Designs towards the Terra Firma, and imagin'd that the Conquest of Italy would not be impossible for 'em to effect, by attacking it the same ways the Romans had formerly done, so to render themselves Masters of it: I mean, by falling in with, and fomenting the Divisions which they found among the Italians; whereas heretofore they were the first to extinguish them.

I know this Design was unjust, as the Tyrannick Rigours which they used to ex­ecute it,Paulus Jovius, Guichardini, Albertus, and Mongino. did afterwards evince. But methinks the Historians of Italy speak thereof with too much tartness, when they term it Chimerical: For after all, the Venetian were then in a better Posture, than the Ro­mans were when they undertook it. They were absolute Masters of their Gulf, and none, no not so much as the Emperour and King of Naples, durst cross it without their leave. The Isle of Candie, which they pos­sess'd entirely, was its Key on the side of the Levant, which was the most dangerous: and Fortune, to skreen 'em the better from the Enterprises of the Infidels, had newly given 'em the famous Kingdom of Cyprus, which they had hook'd in by Intrigues that would furnish ample Matter to Anecdota, if there [Page 43]was any Pen bold enough to dare to under­take it. They were no less Potent on the Terra Firma, since that besides the better part of Friuli, Istria, and Dalmatia, and the most delicious Territory of Lombardy, which they held, they had set footing in the Kingdom of Naples, by the means of some Maritime Places, which King Ferrand had been con­strain'd to pawn to 'em, for the carrying on the Civil War against his Nobless. They had got near Ferrara, through the Polerain of Rovigo: They had purchased the strongest Places of Romagna, by whose means they Check-mated the puny Tyrants that posses­sed the rest of that little Province: They had thrown the Marquis of Mantoua into a blind Dependency on their Wills; and the Republick of Genoua no longer defended it self against 'em with the same vigour as be­fore, being the Seditions under which it la­boured, had constrained it to seek out a Fo­reign Protection. The Duke of Milan could not preserve the Soveraignty his Father had acquired, but by persevering in their Alli­ance; and if the Duke of Savoy had nothing to fear directly from 'em, his Territories were not out of the Irruption of the Troops which they had permission to levy in the nearest Cantons of Suisserland, and among the Grisons.

There onely remained the Republicks of Florence, Siena, and Lucca, whither the Ve­netians had no admission; and as they expect­ed to get Access thither by the means of the Pitti's, who courted their Protection, they easily granted it, in hopes the Civil War that was going to kindle in Tuscany would beget 'em an Occasion to seise on Pisa, or some other Place on the Tyrrhene Sea, from whence, by the number of Shipping, which they had much greater than any other State in Europe, it would be easie for 'em to ruine the Commerce of Genoua, and make them­selves Masters of that which France, Spain, and the Low-Countries drove upon the Me­diterranean Sea.

Upon this consideration they receiv'd the Pitti's after a more magnificent Aspect than they were wont to receive other Criminals; & though the Pretext of their Entertainment was to exert some sort of Acknowledgment to a Family that had oblig'd 'em with so many Colonels and Lieutenant-Generals of their Armies, those however who pretended to dive farther into the Policy of the Senate, did affirm, That there was Mystery in this Reception, and the Consideration of the past, was not the onely reason for this Carriage.

Be it as it will, the Pitti's were defrayed at Venice at the Publick Cost, until they [Page 45]had settled themselves to all intents; and though nothing positive was said to them, to confirm 'em in the Resolution they had taken, of carrying the War into the Center of their Country; yet not any of the indi­rect ways were neglected, that could contri­bute to this Design. They were given to understand, by Emissaries set privately to work, That the Senate had lived in Peace for several years with the State of Florence, wherewith it had moreover contracted an Alliance, which it could not break, without losing the Reputation it had acquir'd of Pro­bity, and without exciting a general Scandal, by so manifest a Violation of the Right of Nations; That this Alliance did indeed mu­tually engage the two Republicks not to give any Assistance to their Enemies, and not to meddle (in any manner) with the re-esta­blishment of those they had banished; but that it did not deprive the Senate of the Freedom that was natural to it to dispose of its Troops; That it had on foot the bravest and best-disciplin'd Army in Christendom; and that it had moreover got into its Service, by an excessive Pension, that famous Gene­ral Bartholomi Coglione, with whom, since the Death of Francisco Sforza, not one Per­son disputed the Quality of the Greatest Captain in Europe; That though the Senate [Page 46]had all the Reasons in the World to be satis­fied with his Services, there was not, how­ever, any inconvenience in retrenching him of his Pension, under colour of the profound Peace the Republick then enjoy'd both by Sea and Land, or to diminish it in such man­ner, as that the General should not be con­tented with what remained; That in either of those two Cases, he might handsomly leave the Service, and close with the Party that should be more advantageous to him; That the same Pretext would serve for the dismissing the better part of the Venetian Ar­my, and that they might treat before-hand with the Officers of the Troops which they design'd 'em, and List them against the time they should be Cashier'd.

The Pitti's took the hint of what they meant, and being assembled with the Prin­cipal of the Guelphs, they agreed, That the Expedient which had been newly suggested unto them, was in effect the most capable of re-establishing 'em in their Country; because that as the Republick of Venice was then the richest State of Europe, and that it gave its Soldiers larger Pay than was given by any other Christian Potentate, she had ever, by consequence, the best Troops, and main­tain'd her self by this means in the reputati­tion of succeeding in her Projects. Thus it [Page 47]was resolv'd, That the Pitti's should lay their Effects in Tribulation, for the finding out ready Money; and that they should cause Coglione, and the other Officers of the Com­panies that had been mark'd out to them, to be sounded; and that if he promis'd to fight under their Colours, with the same Pension, in case they came to be dismiss'd by the Vene­tian State, the same Emissaries should be em­ployed to retain 'em.

This secret Negotiation had all the Success the Pitti's could desire. Coglione having al­ready smelt out the Senates Design, gave As­surances of his Service, and likewise took upon himself to sollicit the Officers that should be Reformed. Then the Exiles be­seech'd the Senate to give 'em some Assi­stance, but they were positively refus'd: yet, some time after, the Republick fell to work on the Reformation of its Army. True it is, that it was not until after ha­ving by a secret Treaty engaged it in their Interests, under whose Ensign it had newly listed it self. Coglione was degraded, and he took the usual Oath to the Pitti's. The Soldiers that were Cashier'd, sided with the same Party their General had chosen; and as there were not then any Wars in Italy, those that had a mind to be instructed in the Trade of Arms, or had no other Profession, [Page 48]flocked from all Parts, to signalize them­selves under so brave a Captain. The num­ber of 'em was so great, that there was seen in a short time upon the Frontiers of Romagna and Ferrara the bravest Army that had ap­peared in Italy since that the House of Anjou had been drove out of the Kingdom of Na­ples. But the Princes of Italy were too jea­lous, and too deeply concerned, to forbear taking umbrage at such sudden Warlike Pre­parations. The Person of Coglione was so well known to 'em, as to guess to what in­tent he made no scruple of becoming the Pitti's Man, who were onely meer Citizens of Florence, after having exercised for twen­ty years the most Noble and Courted Charge of the Christian Army. They held him for an Adventurer, in whom Fortune seem'd to shew how whimsical she is. He was born in the Neighbourhood of Bergamo; and his Family had been totally put to the Sword in the Quarrels of the Guelphs and Gibellins. He had begg'd until eighteen years of age, when that being at Naples, and no body daring to dispute with him the Prize in Wrestling or Running, by reason of his pro­digious Strength, and incomparable Agility, Joan the Second, Queen of Naples, who one­ly valued Men for Vigour of Body, had made him her Minion: But he grew quickly [Page 49]weary of that infamous Exercise, and steal­ing away from Court, he went to perform his Apprenticeship in Martial Affairs under the famous Braccio, and since under Francesco Sforza, with whom he passed through all the Degrees, and then mounted up to the Lieu­tenant-Generalship, when his Commander made himself Duke of Milan. Afterwards the Venetians enticed him away, to give him the Supreme Command of their Armies; wherein he acquired great Reputation, and so much Riches, that the ready Money, he had scrap'd together, is said to have amount­ed to Two hundred thousand Crowns; and this Sum was then so prodigious, that the Italians could by no means imagine that Cog­lione would have rendred himself the Pitti's Subject, but with design of subduing the State of Florence to the Venetians, or to conquer it for himself, after the Example of him that had taught him his Trade, who had newly raised, upon much weaker Foundations, the most topping Soveraignty in Italy.

This spread a general Alarm from the Alps unto the Adriatick Sea. The Florentines see­ing the Storm ready to pour down upon them, did what they were wont in the most difficult Conjunctures; I mean, they aban­doned the Government of their City to Piero [...]e Medici's Friends, who had the principal [Page 50]Interest in the Affair. These caused the Peo­ple to assemble, put them in Arms, drove away all the suspected Persons, and made the Exiles be declared Enemies of the Re­publick. Afterwards they levy'd Troops, and put them into such Places of their State as they saw were likely to be first attack'd. But as it was not possible to assemble in so short a time an Army powerful enough to keep the Field against that of the Exiles, or to oppose against Coglione a Leader near his Equal in repute, recourse was of necessity to be had to those Powers whose Counterbal­lance maintained at that time what was free in Italy, namely, the Duke of Milan, and the King of Naples.

I have already noted, That the last Act of Cosmo de Medici's Life was to acquire to his Son the Alliance of those two Princes. But what had appeared so easie on the Board, and when there needed only promising, became almost impossible in the Performance; so many Obstacles did there arise to cross it. For, on the one side, the King of Naples did indeed consent to grant the Florentines part of the Troops design'd for the Defence of his Kingdom; but he would by no means yield that they should act joyntly with those of the Duke of Milan, whom he look'd on as his Capital Enemy, and forbid them to have [Page 51]any Communication with them. Nay, he could not so much as endure that they should encamp near one another; and tho' they represented to him, that it would be giving them over to Slaughter, to expose them separated to Coglione's Mercy, who had the repute of being the most vigilant Captain that Italy had produc'd since Julius Caesar, and to spend whole N [...]ghts on Horseback, for the surprising of Quarters; tho' it was very easie for this General to cut them in pieces after one another, if he came to disco­ver that they acted under different Orders: This Peril, how evident soever, did not touch the Mind of the King of Naples after so sensi­ble a manner, as the fear of his Soldiers being debauch'd by the Duke of Milan, as they had been in the foregoing Conjunctions for the making War upon the Infidels.

On the other side, the Duke of Milan spoke with great Pomp of the Succours he gave the Florentines. He propos'd sending into Tusca­ny Troops in equal number▪ and better equi­page, than the King of Naples. He proceeded further, offering to Head them with Fede­rigo d' Ʋrbino, whom he kept in his Service, with almost the same Pensions as the Vene­tians gave Coglione, and who would make War so much the better vpon this General, as for that there was a laudable Emulation [Page 52]between them, which engaged them reci­procally to practise all the Stratagems of the Military Art, to surprise, and hinder being surprised. But he pretended before all things, that the King of Naples should be bound not to send any Fleet into the River of Genoua, capable of giving any Jealousie to the State of Milan; with which the Neopolitan was the more loth to comply, in that he was extraordinarily provok'd against the Genoue­ses, who had back'd the Revolt of his Ba­rons; and besides, it goar'd him very sensibly, in that he must receive the Law from his Enemy, for the obliging him to defend an Ally.

In the mean while, the Friends of Piero adjusted these Differences sooner than was expected, and propounded a Temperament which equally fitted the King of Naples and Duke of Milan's turn. They assured the King of Naples, that his Troops should only be employ'd in the defence of Pisa and its Territory, where they should not be oblig'd to receive a Companion; which he accept­ed, and caused them to depart with all expedi­tion, under the Conduct of Galeazzo de St. Severini. Afterwards, they nick'd their time so well to attack his weak side, which was Vanity, and represent to him how glorious it would be for him to sacrifice a Desire of [Page 53]Revenge, tho' it was lawful, to the Safety of his Allies; and what a Tarnish, on the con­trary, his Reputation would receive, if he hindred the Genoueses to assist the Floren­tines, in the War he was going to declare against them; that this Prince gave his Word to suspend his Resentment, until the Peace was re-established in Tuscany. Thus the Duke of Milan having no more Pretext to defer the March of his Auxiliary Troops, and the Friends of Piero having gain'd him to all in­tents and purposes, by the Offer they made of giving him the principal Honour of the Defence, by confiding in his Troops the keep­ing of Florence, he dispatch'd Federigo d' Ʋr­bino with all diligence, to give order for the fortifying the Suburbs, and caus'd him to be attended by choice Companies of Horse and Foot, in so splendid an Equipage, that the like had not been seen in Italy since it had been ravaged by Barbarous Nations. Not a Trooper was there, but had his Led-Horse, and his Arms enrich'd with all that Luxury had then invented most Rare and Curious. The Hel­mets and Corselets which the Infantry made use of were engraven. They had their Trappings deck'd with Cyphers and Devices which noted the Amours and principal Adventures of each Foot-Soldier. Their Swords were adorned with Tufts of Gold in [Page 54]Embroidery; and the Guidons and Ensigns displayed all the Fineries of Needle-work.

These Soldiers entred Florence in the po­sture of Triumphers, rather than of Auxili­aries; and their presence made Coglione change the Design of approaching it. But Piero's Friends seeing them too curl'd and finical, and too assiduous at Balls, to have a good Opi­nion of their Prowess, thought there was no trusting so far in their Valour, as not to raise other Troops. They knew that the Eccle­siastick State had ever been a Nursery of Sol­diers, and that the two most Illustrious Fa­milies of that State, namely, the Colonnesi and Orsini, had accustomed themselves for these three Ages to lead Bodies of Armed Men, into the Service of those who would attack or defend themselves against their E­nemies, without further troubling their Heads, whether the Cause of the Party that called them was just, and without examining ought else, than the more or less Pensions that were offer'd them. They resolved to gain them to their side, and began with that of the Colonnesi, who stood not upon much entreaty to enter into Treaty with them, for two Reasons. The first is, That being wedded to the Fortune of the Kings of Na­ples, they equally followed the Inclination and Interest of King Ferdinand, by declaring [Page 55]themselves for the Republick of Florence, against that of Venice, because this Prince had proposed to himself, by all manner of means, to obstruct the Greatness of the Vene­tians; and wish'd moreover, that it should be published thro' all Europe, That he it was that maintain'd the Caim of Italy, by strip­ping the Ambitious of the Means of aggran­dizing themselves at the expence of others. The second Reason was, That the House of the Colonna's had ever been the Mark of the Vengeance of the Popes, since Siccara, one of its most signalized Captains, had surpri­sed Boniface the Eighth in Agnania. This Persecution had made it close with the Party of the Gibellins, and treat as Enemies all those that had declared themselves for the Soveraign Pontiff. Thus it saw it self obli­ged to act against the Exiles of Florence, since they were supported by the Guelphs; and that besides, it could not doubt, but that the new Pope, who had newly taken the Name of Sixtus the Fourth, would contribute with all his Power to the Ruine of the State of Florence, which serv'd for an Asyle to so many little Tyrants, who had seised upon the best Places of Romagna, and of the Dutchy of Spoletto.

There was more difficulty to book in the House of the Orsini's; for as it was an irre­concileable [Page 56]Enemy of that of the Colonna's, it was sufficient for it to see the Colonnesi en­gaged in one Party, to go offer immediately their Service to the contrary Side. Yet they made a shift to bring Virginio, the Head of the Family, to a Negotiotian, which he did not get out of as free as he entred. They laid him a Snare which he did not distrust, and proposed to him at first the Marriage of his Daughter, that was but twelve years of Age, with Lorenzo de Medici, who was not yet fifteen. Virginio, tho' the eldest, was not the richest of his House: His Profusions had utterly squander'd what was left of the ravaging of his Enemies; and the Debts he had contracted, already surpassed the just Value of his Lands. Thus it was no surprising matter to see him lend an Ear to a Propositi­on seasoned with all that could sweeten the Inequality. They lent him Money abso­lutely to clear off all Engagements, and sti­pulated that he should pay no Interest for ten years. They took his Daughter without any Portion. They assured to his Family, in case of misfortune, a Retreat near the State of the Church: And, what was most advantagious to him in the Issue, tho' he little valued it then, they gave him a Son-in-Law, young indeed, but who already seem'd to bespeak himself to be one day the First Man of his [Page 57]Age. The Nuptials were not celebrated with much Pomp, as not befitting the pre­sent Juncture: There was, however, a world of Epithalamiums, among which, that of An­gelus Politianus, who being but of the Bride­groom's years, made Verses worthy of the age of Augustus, was the best received. In a few days after, the News of Coglione's Ap­proach kid-napp'd young Lorenzo out of the Arms of his Bride, and made him take Horse, to go learn the Military Art, under the Di­scipline of his Father-in-Law.

However the War was not very warm in the beginning, tho' the Troops on both sides were in a state of acting. And those who knew Coglione's impatient and extraordina­ry active and fiery Humour, could not con­ [...]ive, why, his Army being the strongest, and best martialliz'd, he trifl'd away his time in laying waste the open Country, and ta­king in little Places, in stead of shewing him­self in Battalia in the sight of Florence, and [...]arassing the Milanese Troops, who seem'd already on the point of disbanding, since the Guard of the Suburbs had been committed to them. But they knew not, that Coglione had more than one String to his Bow, and that he would not use Force, till he had spent all the Artifices of his Profession.

The Florentines never thought of driving [Page 58]all the Exiles Relations out of the City; and whether the number of em was too great to be done with safety, or that they d [...] not in so dangerous a Conjuncture act with all the Severity of the Laws, against Men presumptively innocent, nothing had been said to those that were not suspected of any Intelligence or particular Engagement with their Kinsmen. Yet the War was no sooner felt upon the Frontier, but Changes were perceived among the Populace, that must ne­cessarily be fomented by some Internal and Domestic Enemies. The People complain'd of Inconveniencies and Grievances they had not yet felt: they began to speak of the Exile's Power, and in their Discourse to mul­tiply the Number of their Soldiers. In▪ word, they even launch'd out into Asserti­ons, That they had been punish'd with over much Severity, and that it was but very just that those who thwarted their Repeal, should be at all the Charges of the War.

Too publick were these Rumours not to reach Pier [...] de Medici's Ear; and as he had too weak and dastardly a Spirit to remedy it he conceived a kind of Sorrow, accompanied with Despair, that put him into a Fever. On the contrary, the Pitti's, who received every moment certain Advices of all Occurence at Florence, began to flatter themselves with [Page 59]the Hopes of a speedy Re-establishment They [...]ent to Coglione, and inform'd him of the [...]abals of their own Party and Faction. They [...]ld him that the Peoples Discontent was [...]st on the point of breaking our, and that [...]ey waited for nothing more than an Occa­ [...]ion for so doing, by the approach of the Army.

Coglione was too compleat a Captain to [...]iss understanding the Importance of what was told him, and too self-interessed to re­ [...]se a March which in all probability must [...]nder him the Richest Adventurer in Eu­ [...]e: for he promis'd himself nothing less than the Pillage of Florence, if it continued [...]stinate in its own Defence; or a mighty contribution, the better part of which would [...]owd into his Coffers, in case it gave ear to [...]ny Accommodation. He did not suffici­ [...]ntly value the Troops of Milan, as to ima­ [...]ne they durst make Head against him; and [...]esides, he did not see sufficient Union among [...]e Florentines, nor Dependency between the [...]ew Levies and their Leaders, to persuade himself, that they were in a state to hold out [...] Siege.

Nevertheless, as he had not so firm an En­ [...]gement with the Pitti's, though under their Pay, as with the Republick of Venice, that had degraded him, he took some days [Page 60]delay, under colour as if all things were not yet ready in his Army, for its advancing into the very Center of the Enemies Coun­try; but indeed to inform the Venetian State of the true Condition and Estate of the City of Florence, and to ask their Permis­sion to draw near it.

The Letter he writ in Cyphers was exa­mined by the Senate with all imaginable ex­actness, but not in the sense that Coglione had writ it; for the General had no other De­sign than to serve those from whom he re­ceived his Pay, in a Conjuncture wherein he found his own, as well as they their Advan­tage: Whereas the Venetians proposed di­rectly to themselves only the Interest of their Republick, and consider'd that of the Pitti's no farther than as it concurred with their own. They did not judge it advantageous to their Commonweal, for Coglione to ad­vance into the very Face of Florence, because if he became Master of that Town, he would be obliged to leave it at the Pitti's Mercy, who in all probability would not ravish it of its Freedom, so far were they from sub­jecting it to the Laws of another Republick. And if Coglione was so bold as to declare when he was entred the Town, That he pre­tended to hold it in the name of the Venetians, besides the horrible Scandal which an Action [Page 61] [...] that Nature would cause throughout all [...]rope, it would not be possible for him to [...]p his new Conquest long, in regard the Princes of Italy would immediately take [...]mbrage, and endeavour in Concert to re­ [...]tablish the Florentines in the Freedom they before enjoy'd. Which the Venetians would [...]e so much the less in a capacity to oppose, as having no place upon the Tuscan Coast, and [...]eing easily hindred coming thither by Land, Coglione would have only the vexation to see the Fruit of his Perfidiousness miscarry, and the Venetians the regret of having to no purpose prostituted their Reputation.

Thus, they thought it fitting to fasten up­on some Enterprise of less noise, and of more [...]se to succeed: They thought it best to [...]andon the Florentines, amazed with their Civil Division, and in the mean while cause Coglione to march to the Conquest of a Place that might be relieved by Sea after the ta­king, and re-victualled from time to time, without their being forc'd to pass through mothers Lands. That of Pisa was both the most important of it self, and the most com­modious for this Design. It had a Territory sufficiently big for the framing a durable Settlement, and Ports sufficiently large to [...]nde secure during the greatest Tempests. Its Inhabitants were born in an irreconcileable [Page 62]aversion to the Florentines, and consequently dispos'd to attempt and endure all, rather than be their Slaves. Moreover the Italian Prin­ces would not be so much alarm'd, hearing it was besieged, because they were accustom­ed to see it change its Master; and it would be more easie to persuade them, that it should be restored in the Accommodation.

These Considerations prevailed in the Se­nate of Venice over Coglione's Reasons, to whom they sent a Dispatch, that it was much better to fix upon Pisa. It was no difficult matter for the General to make the Pitti's condescend to this Undertaking; for tho' they clearly saw, that this was not the short­est way to be taken for their Return into their Country, they durst not however de­clare openly all they thought of it, because they found Coglione too firm in his Resoluti­on to be stagger'd; and they lay under the fear, by shocking him unseasonably, to lose the Benefit they expected from his Valour.

Thus the Attack of Pisa was concluded and Coglione's Cavalry, almost all composed of Epirotes and Albaneses, had order to in­vest it, while the Venetian Ships advanc'd towards the Coasts, to hinder the Succours that might be put into it by Sea. But whe­ther his Cavalry did not set upon marching as soon as they were commanded, as being [Page 63]loth to leave their Quarters of Refreshment; [...] that the Spies that Piero de Medici's [...]ends kept at great Charges in the Enemies [...]mp, had inform'd them at the very instant [...] the Resolution taken in the Council of [...]ar, it hapned, that at the same time that Coglione's Troops left their Quarters to go to [...]isa, those of Naples quitted likewise theirs, [...] march the same way. And as they were much nearer, San Severino their General [...]ad the leisure to enter the Town, and range them in Places the most subject to unfore­ [...]n Attacks, before the Exiles Army did appear.

Without this Precaution, the accurate Ken­ [...]s of Military Discipline judged that the Town would have been forthwith taken: For [...]e Inhabitants stood but very ill affected to [...]ir own Defence, and looked upon the [...]mies with as little concern, as if they had [...]en the Spectators of a Tragedy. They matter'd in publick, That the worst that [...]ould befal 'em, was the shifting of Tyrants. And as the Common People are very ingeni­ [...]s in cockering their Noddles with Hopes, tho' dull almost in every thing else, they [...]gin'd, that a Revolution, let it turn on [...]hat side soever, would infallibly change [...]heir unhappy Destiny: from whence it was [...]ie to foresee, that if there had not been [Page 64]an Army maintained by the Florentines, who should have opposed the Enemies Impetuosi­ty, the Enemy had easily trod them under foot.

And indeed, San Severino, who had as much Experience as Valour, did not think there was any safety to trust them with the Guard of the Suburbs. He kept them in the Main Guard, situated in the midst of the Town, under colour that it was the giving them the most Honourable Employ, as to oblige them to watch over the Fidelity of the Inhabitants, and disposed the Troops he brought in those Parts where he judged the Enemy would come. He was not mistaken in his Conjecture, and Coglione did not lose time in following the Methods of the Cap­tains of his Age, who never at­tack'd a Place without having made an exact Muster of their Army to those they pretended to besiege,Pellegrin in his last Book of the Art Military. and without having finish'd the Cir­cuit of their Walls in Battel-array. He forth­with attack'd the Suburbs with great vio­lence, but was repuls'd with so much loss, that he was compell'd to change his Design of Forcing the Town, into that of Reducing it by a Siege. Nor did he persevere long in the Resolution of making himself Master of it in the Forms; for as soon as he was in­form'd [Page 65]that 6000 brave Soldiers were got into the Place, commanded by an experienced Head, he judged that it would be the ruin­ing his Army, without much incommoding the Besieged, to attack them regularly. Thus his thoughts were wholly set upon retrench­ing them of their Provisions, and constrain­ing the Neopolitan Troops by a Blockade to leave Pisa. But while he was heaving and labouring at this, with that indefatigable Vi­gilancy that made him subdue so many Pla­ces to the State of Venice, Fortune, as it were out of derision to him, begat the Occasion of finishing the War to his advantage, when he had ty'd up his Hands, as a Man may say, and incapacitated himself to profit by it.

Piero de Medici's Gout mounting up again, while he laboured under his Fever, put a period to his days in so short a time, that he had not the leisure to settle his Af­fairs. His Friends were so much the more startled at his Death, as they had the less foreseen it; and own'd from Experience, that Men of Consideration, as well as great Trees, never make more Shadow than when they fall: For tho' Piero acted neither with Head nor Hand in the Concerns of the Florentine Republick, or in his own; tho' he did not so much as know by sight the most of those that devoted themselves to his Interests, and [Page 66]exposed daily their Lives and Fortunes in his behalf; his bare Name, however, was be­come so great, and the Reputation of his Riches had acquir'd him so vast a number of Persons and Creatures, that it sufficed most of those who received Succours from him to know that he was in the World, to execute what had been ordain'd them on his account. Thus serving for a Band of Union to his Friends, and a Mediator to the young Gen­tlemen who Caball'd for the Principal Offi­ces of Trust, he could not be said to be use­less, notwithstanding his continual Infirmi­ties, and the weakness of his Genius. And, on the contrary, People foresaw, that his Death would be so much the more injurious to the Republick, and his Family, for that he left Both in a deplorable Condition.

The End of the First Book.

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS. The Second Book.

OF all the Houses that now bear any Soveraign Sway, not one is there that has been reduc'd to stranger Extremities than that of Medicis: Nor was the House of Medicis ever so near its Ruine, as in the sad Conjuncture when young Lorenzo became its Head. As he had [Page 68]reaped his Father's whole Estate, bating a very small Portion, which fell to Giuliano his younger Brother, to serve him for Legi­timation, he was likewise to undergo all the Charges, which could not possibly be more heavy than at that time. Become he was the Head of his Family, and the most consi­derable Citizen in Florence, at an Age when others have still need of ten years Guardian­ship; and his Youth was almost equally de­spiseable to his Friends and his Enemies. He found he was engaged in a War, which the Riches that came to him by Inheritance could not sufficiently cope withal, tho' they were immense. In the mean while, by all likelihood, the Sequels of this War would be long and troublesom, seeing the Republick of Venice was a Party concerned.

Besides the declared Enemies of his House, that appeared with Sword in hand, to the number of above Twenty thousand, there was a great many secret and unknown ones in the Territory, as also in the City of Flo­rence, who were no less to be feared. The People had by their Shrugs and Mutterings shewn how weary they were of the War, before they had suffered any Inconveniency from it; and gave out, that they would make their Accommodation at their Expence who were the Cause or the Pretext of the Discord.

The Auxiliary Troops thought, that their Engagement was ended by the Death of Piero de Medici, and acted so faintly, as it was easie to guess, that in a few days they expected to be recalled. The Gonfaloniere and the Sub­alternate Magistrates began to despair of maintaining the War, and did not believe they were now powerful enough to keep the Factious in Obedience. The Friends of the House of Medici had newly lost the Founda­tion of their Union in the Person of Piero, and durst no longer act in concert, out of an opinion they had of one another, that each Man meditated the making his Accom­modation apart. In few words, the Danger was so great, and seem'd so inevitable, that there needed the utmost Endeavours of the most Heroick and most Consummated Vir­tue, to triumph over so many Difficulties.

Nevertheless, Lorenzo de Medici under­took it for his Trial of Skill. And as he borrowed from History part of what he was wanting in from Experience, the first thing he did was to comport himself like a Man that would not only supply his Father's Place, but likewise that of his Grandfather. The next day assisting at the Council, he made known to the Adherents of his Name, what might reasonably be expected from a Man of such a promising Capacity. He spoke his [Page 70]Advice with such maturity of Wit as was admired, and began with that happy Address, as to make his Person consider'd like a Ri­sing Sun. And indeed, that very Afternoon the Council assembled at his House, where he spoke of the Republick's and of his own Af­fairs with so much Prudence, Order, and Neatness, that he fully persuaded those of his Party, that they had gained more than they had lost in the Death of his Father.

Then he apply'd his Endeavours wholly to re-establish the good Understanding which Piero's Death had altered, and to prevent the Advantages which might have thence ac­crued to his Enemies. He caused Money to be dol'd among all the Troops that served the Republick of Florence, and hindred them by this Gratification from giving ear to the Pitti's Emissaries, bribed to corrupt them. He spread about a Rumour, That there were Letters intercepted from the Pitti's, which named almost all those of their Faction that were left at Florence, to manage the People in their favour, and that their Persons were suddenly to be seised on, to be served as Cri­minals of State; and gave so many Marks that the Republick would proceed to their Imprisonment, that those who found them­selves culpable, thought there was no Safety any longer for them at Florence, and sought [Page 71]Retreat elsewhere: Which in two days space caus'd all the Complaints to cease, that were made against the Government.

He accustomed the People to despise the Exiles, and no longer to value the Forces they had assembled, by making them observe the Fault that Coglione had committed, in setting upon Pisa, in stead of marching di­rectly to Florence; and started among them Subjects for pleasant Discourses, so to divert them from the mortifying Tidings they from time to time received, of their Houses of Pleasure being burnt. And then, when the Storm was over, and the Country was laid desolate, he made the Parties concern'd so well comprehend the importance of the Injury that was done them, that he rendred them irreconcileable to those who were the Authors of such Devastations, and made them as many Soldiers devoted to the Defence of his Party. He with all haste dispatch'd away Courriers to Naples and Milan, that the first News of his Father's Death might be impart­ed there from him himself; and the Messen­gers were immediately followed by Gentle­men of Note and Trust, who obtained, in fa­vour of Lorenzo de Medici, the Confirmation of the Treaties concluded with his Predeces­sor, and brought new Orders to the Auxili­ary Troops to act vigorously for his Interests.

The Magistrates he re-encourag'd, by as­suring them, that what Soldiers were in Florence, should be employ'd to procure them Obedience. He gave the Friends of his House to understand, that they ought not to seek elsewhere, than in his Person, for the Foun­dation of their Union; and made them so agreeable a Reproach for entertaining thoughts of knocking off their several ways, that they cou'd not but blush out of meer shame; so that he brought them again to a good understanding of one another. He made them fall again to their former Functions, without the least alteration. He obliged them to declare themselves publickly in his behalf, for the rendring them the more firm, and to take away from the Pitti's the Hopes of corrupting them. In one word, he ad­justed all things so well, that the Republick did not suffer any of the Revolutions with which it had been threatned by his Father's Death.

But with all this, it would have been im­possible for him to have maintain'd himself by his own Virtue, if Fortune had not e­spous'd his Cause, and if his Enemies, in stead of repairing the Fault they had committed, had not augmented it by an unseasonable and affected Obstinacy. All the Rules of the Military Art did required, that Coglione in the [Page 73]very moment he had the News of Piero de Medici's Death, should have raised the Bloc­kade of Pisa, and caus'd his Army to ad­vance towards Florence, to foment the Intel­ligences which the Pitti's maintain'd there, and to be at lurch for nicking the Changes, which according to all appearance could not miss of happening. The Pitti's conjured him to it with Instances which might proba­bly have prevailed. They represented to him, That the Pisan Enterprise was no lon­ger in terms of succeeding; That the Suc­cours of Naples, that were got into the Town, had removed the principal Foundati­on on which it was built, by disarming the Inhabitants, and dispensing them from all Military Functions; That the Place wanted neither Victuals nor Amunitions; That there was no expecting any Discord between the Soldiers and the Citizens; and, That as San Severino was a Man of Order, he would ea­sily appease the Quarrels which might arise among the Soldiers: From whence the Pitti's concluded, That they must resolve on spend­ing the whole next Winter before Pisa, and in the mean while leave the Florentines in a State of executing all the Enterprises they would frame, after having setled their Go­vernment; or, That they ought to draw nearer to their City, that they might take [Page 74]advantage of the Tumults, which their Friends would not fail of exciting there. However, Coglione had no regard to this Remonstrance, and made appear by his Ob­stinacy, that there is nothing more dange­rous than the putting ones Affairs into the disposal of a Person that has not the same Interest for their accomplishment. The se­cret Orders of the Venetian Senate prevail'd over the General's Duty; and the desire of augmenting his own Renown, to the cost of San Severino's, and perhaps also of getting by the Ransom of the richest Barons of Na­ples, who had put themselves into the Town, reduc'd all his thoughts to that of suffering nothing to go in or out.

Lorenzo de Medici being over-joy'd at his Adversary's fatal Stupidity, lost not one mo­ment of the Leisure afforded him. He took care of Affairs abroad, after his terminating those at home, and gave his Father-in-Law Money, to get into the Service of the Flo­rentines the Troops appointed for the Guard of the Ecclesiastick State. He enabled the Colonna's to List those Italian Forces again, which the French King and the Count de Charellois had Cashier'd after the War for the Publick Good; and when he saw himself strong enough to appear in the presence of his Enemy, he march'd out of Florence in [Page 75]Quality of Comissary-General of the Repub­lick; and leaving all the Honour and Su­preme Authority of the Army to Federigo d' Ʋrbino, he onely reserved to himself the Care of its Subsistence.

Federigo did not frustrate the Hopes that were conceived of his Valour. He went di­rectly for Pisa, with so much Resolution, that Coglione (who detach'd himself out, for the viewing him the better) doubted the be­ing defeated, if he suffer'd himself to be coop'd up betwixt the Neopolitan Troops which he held invested, and the Succours that came to their Relief. To avoid this Inconvenience, which had made him lose all his Reputation, he raised the Blockade with great Order, as well as Diligence. And as he had no great opinion of the Florentines Army, because near half of it were new Le­vies, he encamped in such manner as if he design'd to present them Battel. Federigo d' Ʋrbino and San Severino did not refuse it, after having joyned their Forces; and Lo­renzo de Medici was oblig'd to consent there­unto, tho' he sufficiently foresaw, that it was a remitting, to the Disposure of Fortune, the Freedom of his Country, and the Establish­ment of his House. The Particulars of this Fight upon the Banks of the River Riccardi, in the Territory of Bologne, are in all the [Page 76]Histories of Florence, two excepted, which they have perhaps omitted, because they properly appertain to a Writer of Anecdota. The first is, That Coglione having invented a few days before the way of managing Artil­lery in the open Field, made use of it the Day of Battel, with a very whimsical Success; for it had no other Effect upon the Floren­tine Army, than the taking off Prince Her­cules of Ferrara's Boot-heel; which all Italy complain'd of to Coglione, as a manifest Con­travention to their Laws and Measures of War, in that distrusting the Valour of his Soldiers, he had invented the Secret of steal­ing the Victory, not finding himself capable of gaining it by legitimate means. The se­cond Circumstance is, That the Battel not be­ginning before the Days declension, and the Night coming on before it was ended, the Black Guards, Grooms, and Foot-men, and other Creatures of that stamp, kindled Flam­beaux, and fell to lighting their Masters, in such manner as they were wont to do at Tur­naments.

To neither Side the Victory inclined; and the two Parties having bang'd them­selves weary, tho' with the loss of very lit­tle Blood, retired with an equal Advantage. But Federigo d' Ʋrbino, who would needs re­fine upon the manner of making War, which [Page 77]otherwise was then practised without any Craft or Artifice, bethought himself of gi­ving but two hours Repose to the Army of Florence, and to lead it afterwards, without any noise, to attack the Enemies Camp. He came thither at Break of day, and found Cog­lione's Soldiers so fast asleep, that it was easie for him to take the Quarter which he assault­ed, before the Troops appointed for the Guard of the other Quarters were awaked, and put into a Posture of Self-defence. This Conflict was a little more bloody than that of the Day before: But then, as they did not yet understand in Italy what it was to kill Men that made no Defence, and asked to be set at Ransom, the Exiles lost in this Rencounter little more than the Sum of Money, which was employ'd in redeeming the Prisoners. The greatest Mischief fell upon Coglione, of whom the Pitti's had so mean and slight an Opinion, that from that time they would not confide in him the Command of their Army. But the Venetians pretending to be more just Estimators of Unfortunate Virtue, re-establish'd him in the Generalship, from whence they had outed him, sooner than was necessary for the retrieving their own Reputation; and by that means persuading the most incredulous Minds out of the Opi­ [...]ion, that he had not so absolutely divorc'd [Page 78]himself from their Service, but that he was linked to it by certain indissoluble Chains.

The Pitti's, that had dismiss'd him before they had made sure of any other to supply his Room, did not find out a General so ea­sily as they imagin'd; because Borsius of Este, Marquis of Ferrara, on whom they had pitch'd, did not entertain the Offers they made him with all the Heat they desired. Too Judicious he was not to perceive, that the Venetian Senate was really deeper con­cern'd in the Tuscan War, than it outwardly appear'd. And as he was a Neighbour to that Republick, and had nothing to fear in that Juncture of Affairs, as long as he stood in good Terms with it, he had no mind to shock it, in consideration of the Pitti's, who had nor Strength nor Credit to re-establish him, if he came once to be turn'd out.

The same Reason of State hindred the Marquis from declaring against the Floren­tines, since they were also his Neighbours, and if they had not the same facility to ruine him as the Venetians, they might lay waste the Land of Ferrara, by causing part of their Victorious Troops to live at discretion there, and so reduce his Subjects to Beggary.

Yet the extraordinary Civility which he us'd even in his Refusals, oblig'd him to let the Pitti's know, That tho' his Affairs did [Page 79]not allow him to declare for either Party, he [...]hould account himself happy, in contribu­ [...]ing to the Accommodation, if he was judg­ [...]ed capable of that Province. The Pitti's not being in an extremely kind Posture, not­withstanding their Advantage, made all due Reflexions upon Borsius of Este's Proposition. They had not in themselves either the Pow­er to make Peace, or to continue the War. They had so much the more reason to fear the being abandon'd by the State of Venice, in that it had already despair'd of gaining by their Revolt; and the Turks gave it new [...]ealousies, by menacing the remainder of those Islands, which they held in the Archi­ [...]elago. Coglione's Disgrace discourag'd their [...]riends from assisting them: And as it was maintain'd for a Maxim in Italy, That Rebel­lions were commonly fatal to their Ʋnderta­ [...]ers, when Fortune was wanting to second their first Endeavours; they had more reason to [...]ear the being abandon'd by those of their own Faction, than they had to pretend there were in Tuscany such ill-advis'd Men, as to en­ [...]er with them into new Engagements.

Now this inspired them with the follow­ing Request to Borsius of Este; they conjur'd [...]im to be their Mediator, and remitted their merests into his Hands. Borsius had too much Sense to take upon him so nice an Af­fair, [Page 80]without consulting the Oracle; for such the Venetian Senate was then styl'd: He ac­quainted them with the Request which had newly been made him from the Exiles of Florence: He communicated to them the full Power they head sent him, and ask'd the Advice of the Pregadi upon what he was to do.

Told he was, That the Senate would be very glad to see the Troubles of Tuscany at an end, tho' it were onely to take away all Pretence from Calumny, of divulging (as it did) that they were fomented by the Vene­tians. There needed no more, to make Bor­sius apprehend, that the Senate would no longer undergo the Publick Odium, by pro­tecting Exiles, that were become useless to them by their Misfortune, and suspected by Coglione's Degradation. he took this An­swer for an Allowance, and without losing time, writ to the Florentines, That if they were in a Humour to hearken to Proposals of Agreement, such reasonable ones should be made them, as they would be very loth to reject.

Lorenzo de Medici had no sooner notice of this Offer, but he left his Brother Giuliano in his room at the Army, and return'd to Florence, where he examin'd with his Friends, whether it was the particular Interest of his [Page 81]own House, as well as that of the Repub­lick, to conclude the Peace. So divided were their Sentiments, that there was no appear­ance of re-uniting them; but Lorenzo, that had seen more nearly the Mischiefs of the War, and was resolved to put a Period to it some way or other, brought over those that were of opinion to have it continued, by representing to them, That things had so chang'd face since the War began, that they should be infallibly mistaken, if they reason­ed upon the same Principles; That the Pitti's in truth were not to be fear'd, since they had spent their whole Estate, and lost their Credit; That the Guelphs had left them in the lurch; and, that the State of Venice was so weary of upholding them, that it onely sought after a plausible Pretext to take away its Protection from them, without noise and scandal; That this Pretence consisted in the Negotiation whereinto the Marquis of Fer­rara desired them to enter, and that he was of opinion it ought to be accepted; That it would be for the Florentines to bate some­thing of the Conditions, under which 'twas pretended they should relax a little of the Severity of the Laws; and that, in the mean while, they would derive all the Advantages from a Suspension of Arms, without the Pit­ti's being disburthen'd from the Charges of [Page 82]maintaining their Troops; That they would not reap any great Fruit from the Conclu­sion of the Peace, in case it was made, as they could hardly become more miserable than they were, by the continuation of the War; but that the Commonwealth of Florence in general, and the House of Medicis in particu­lar, ran a risque of losing all, without having any hopes of advantaging themselves, as long as their Enemies had their Swords in their Hands.

Lorenzo added other Reasons of as great moment, to those I have now specified, and made his Friends so well perceive, that it was the Duty of a Republick, to allow Fortune the least Lock it could upon it self, that he made them condescend to Peace. They went out of his House with this Resolution, and the next day caus'd it to be concluded in the Council of Eight, That the Intermission of the Marquis of Ferrara should be accepted. The Negotiation was of no long duration, and terminated, like all others that com­mence betwixt unequal Parties; I mean, that it was concluded at the expence of the weak­er Side. The Pitti's oblig'd themselves to disarm, and remain Exiles for Ten years; at the Expiration of which, they should be al­low'd to return into their own Country, on condition of never more exercising any Ma­gistracy [Page 83]or Publick Office therein: And the Commonwealth granted an Amm [...]sly to those that had taken their part, at the Charge of serving against the City of Volterra, then revolted.

This City, more Famous in Ancient than Modern History, truckl'd to that of Florence with so much the more impatience, as it had been one of the Last that was ranged under its Sway. And the Contrariety of Humour evermore most notorious between its Inhabi­tants and the Florentines, made them believe, that there was no Yoke but what was Light, in comparison of that they bore. These two Causes had engag'd them in the Party of all those who had declar'd themselves at divers times Enemies to the Republick, and had made them open their Gates to Coglione's Army, as soon as it appear'd before their Walls. They had not been comprehended in the Ne­gotiation, whether the Pitti's had not the Power to do it, or had not much insisted to obtain it, because those of Volterra had re­ceiv'd them without exacting from them the hast Engagement, either by Word of Mouth, or by Writing.

Thus were they condemn'd by Law-Martial to pay the Charges of the War, and the Principal Officers of the Florentine Ar­my prepared to lead their Troops thither. [Page 84] Lorenzo de Medici onely waited for the Re­publick's Order to invest it; but this Order was not given, for that the Council of Eight could not easily resolve upon the entire ruine of a Town of that Importance. This Council chose much rather to dissemble the Fault it had committed, than to apply Fire and Sword to repair it. And the perfect Knowledge they fancied they had of the Genius of that stubborn People, persuaded them, by a Subtil­ty of Ratiocination, to wink at their Revolt. They also imagin'd, that it would be losing time, and putting the Authority of the Re­publick to the Judgment of Private Men, to demand of them the Principal Heads of the Rebellion, which they would never deliver. And as they were neither willing to expose themselves to the Affront of a Refusal of that nature, nor push on to the last Extremity▪ against People they saw dispos'd to expect it, they were of opinion to treat those of Vol­terra in the same manner they were wont, and to shew them by this Conduct, that they had not taken notice of their Revolt.

But Lorenzo made them take up more Ge­nerous Sentiments, by representing to them, That the Crime of the Volterrans could by no mean [...] be dissembled, in a Popular State, without exposing themselves to the Peril of a speedy Revolution; That there was no City [Page 85]in the Territory of Florence, but would fol­low, upon the first occasion, the Example that had been newly set them, if they were not diverted from so doing by the Quality of the Punishment under which they should be lash'd; and that Clemency was the Rock whereon all Republicks, without excepting that of Rome, had suffer'd Wrack, because they were not in a Condition to practise that Virtue with as much security as Kings. He added, however, That Indulgence should be us'd towards those of Volterra; but that they must first of all acknowledge them­selves unworthy of it, and in craving it, ex­ert their Humility.

These Reasons were indeed drawn from the profoundest Policy; but they were not the sole, not even the principal, that made Lorenzo act in this manner. He had more particular and more pressing ones, which represented to him, his Honour and his In­ [...]erest were both almost equally engag'd in the Enterprise of Volterra; the Burgers of that City having made mighty goaring Railleries, and infamous Satyrs, on the Sub­ject of his Youth, and his too great Familia­rity with Angelus Politianus, and the Study of Polite Learning, to which he was a Pre­tender, contrary to the Custom of the Italian Gentlemen. Moreover, the War of the [Page 86] Pitti's had not lasted long enough to hand­sel his first Arms. There had been onely one Battel, wherein he acted meerly in Qua­lity of a Voluntier, and under the Orders of Federigo d' Ʋrbino. A Soldier he was known to be; but there was still room for suspicion, whether he was a Captain, until he was seen at the Head of an Army, act of himself, and put happily in practise what he had read in good Books. The Necessity of his Affairs, and the Occasion his Friends had for his con­tinual Presence in the Country, did not al­low him to seek Employment among Stran­gers, and all Italy enjoy'd at that time a pro­found Tranquillity: Wherefore in Tuscany was he to seek whereon to make his Appren­ticeship; and as it was not fitting, or hardly possible in a Private Person, to raise a new War in his own Country, at least without incurring the Publick Abomination, he was to husband well the Occasion of doing it, that offer'd it self, for the attaining the Ad­vantage aimed at, without receiving any Da­mage. In few words, Lorenzo knew that the Pitti's had not acted so much against the Florentine Republick, as against him; and held himself, by consequence, the more near­ly bound to hinder their stirring for the fu­ture. Yet this could not be prevented, as long as they had the Conveniency of such a [Page 87]City as Volterra, very considerable of it self, and near Florence, to serve them for an Asylum.

Thus, the Siege of Volterra was resolv'd on; and the same Lorenzo de Medici who had had sufficient Credit to get that Enter­prise undertaken, had likewise sufficient to procure to himself the Commission of per­forming it. He Invested the Place with the Troops which the Florentines kept in Pay, disposing the Attacks with Regularity e­nough, at a time when hardly any thing was understood of Military Architecture. The Besieged, who had run themselves into this Tempest through their own Imprudence, sustain'd it with more firmness than was ex­pected. They spoke neither of Capitulating nor Surrendring, and did on that occasion what could onely have been expected from the most obstinate Citizens of Old Rome. They defended their Town to the very last Extremity, tho' they had not any hopes of be­ing reliev'd; and when People ask'd them what they meant to do, they return'd an­swer, That they intended nothing else than the deferring their Slavery for some Months. But in short, those who had yielded neither to the Violence of their Adversaries, nor to Lassitude and Weariness, sunk under Famine, and deliver'd all up on Discretion. The [Page 88]Mercenary Soldiers of the Florentines, who already were all preparing to put them to the Sword, and then seise on their Estates, were strangely surpris'd, when they saw they were frustrated of their Pretensions by their General's Address.

And indeed, it was neither the Interest nor the Genius of Lorenzo to abandon Vol­terra to Plunder: For besides the Loss the Florentine Republick had suffer'd thereby, that Person would ever have been look'd on as Sanguinary, under whose Orders the Place had been desolated: Whereas by preserving it from the Licentiousness of the Soldiers, a Man might promise himself the Applause of all Degrees in the Republick, when the State of Volterra should have put a period to the Aversion which the Florentines harbour'd for its Inhabitants.

This Reflexion was so much the more so­lid, in that there was not at that time any People who with more levity skipp'd from Hatred, apparently irreconcileable, to Love, than that of Florence. And Lorenzo, who had already experienc'd it more than once, in the War against the Pitti's, did of his own proper motion an Action of Clemency to the Enemy, which he foresaw must needs be made up and reconcil'd in process of time, tho' it was not easie to bring it to pass in [Page 89]the posture things then were reduc'd to.

The Army he commanded, was not whol­ly to be confided in by him; for besides the Regulated Troops, several Companies in it were of Banditti, who had not subjected themselves to the Fatigues of the Siege, but in the hopes they had entertain'd of Plunder. It could not otherwise be expected, but that these Banditti would contemn the Orders that should be given them to abstain from Pillage, and mutiny, so to have a Pretext to enter Volterra in a fury. This made their General use a Stratagem, which they too late found out, to prevent being deluded by it. As soon as he was inform'd, that the Towns­men resolv'd to hold out no longer, he feign'd a Desire to raise the Siege, and Cashier'd the Men for which the State had no longer any occasion. He caused a general Muster to be made of his Army, and reform'd such Com­panies as he distrusted. Their Commanders complain'd openly, That they were robb'd of a Pillage that was their due, and caus'd the Assault to be sounded: but they found Troops that Lorenzo had made sure of, posted upon the Avenues, that stopp'd them in their Carrier, and constrain'd them to be jogging back to Romagna, there to continue their Robberies.

Then did Lorenzo de Medici enter Volterra, [Page 90]granting the Inhabitants their Lives and Fortunes, and onely excepting out of the General Pardon ten or twelve of the most culpable, that were hang'd. He us'd the rest with all possible Moderation and Charity, and constrain'd them to praise him for ha­ving been their Deliverer, ever against their Wills. The Florentines did for their part what Lorenzo had foreseen. His Conduct they blam'd at first, for having sav'd (as they said) their most irreconcileable Enemies: But they did not remain three days in so un­reasonable an Opinion. They quickly own'd, That as it had been necessary to use Severity towards the Volterrans, when they pre­tended to cast off the Yoke, it was fitting he should change his Method, after the Incon­veniencies of a long Siege had convinc'd them, by their own Experience, of the im­possibility of avoiding the Domination and Authority of the Florentines. Thus that People ratified all that Lorenzo had done, and decreed him Honours at his Return, which he made appear how much the more worthy he was of, in that he refus'd them without Disdain, and without so much as Affectation.

Having settled his Reputation by Arms, he bent his Thoughts and Endeavours during Peace to the Establishment of his own Fa­mily. [Page 91]And as he had already two Sons born, he design'd his Brother Giuliano for in Ecelesiastick, tho' he had not any disposi­tion thereunto: For bating the time he spent is Turnaments, in which he commonly won the Prize, Sloth and Impurities shared the Hours of his Life. Otherwise, he was of Stature tall, of an advantagious Shape, and shew'd so much Wit and Courtesie, that his Brother imagin'd he would infallibly change, if he came to be exalted to a Dignity which requir'd his carrying himself with less Licen­tiousness. That of Cardinal appear'd at that time very commodious for this Design, for­asmuch as the Popes having not yet be­thought themselves of conferring it upon the Children of Soveraigns and Imperial Princes, Magnificence and Luxury had not then got admittance into the Sacred College, nor did they look upon those Vices as its Principal Ornaments. Besides, the High-Priests had not yet figured to themselves, that their Autho­rity was wounded, in putting Affairs of mo­ment into Deliberation in the Consistory, and resolving upon them by the number of Suffrages: From whence it came, that each Cardinal had as much Business as was need­ful for a Person of his Rank, not to be idle, if he would weigh Matters justly and perti­nently, about which he well knew his Advice would be required.

Thus Lorenzo fell to Intriguing in the Con­cern of a Cap for his Brother, and employ'd such puissant Sollicitations to Pope Sixtus the Fourth, as to have reason to believe, it would be granted him at the approaching Promotion: For he did not content himself with the good Offices of the Republick of Florence, whose Recommendation had ever been much regarded at the Court of Rome, in all such like Conditions of Affairs; but he likewise caused the King of Naples, the Duke of Milan, and the Genoueses to intercede, whom his Holiness took a pride to oblige on all Occasions. Nevertheless, the Pope was inflexible, and refus'd the Cap in such terms, as took away all hopes of obtaining it, du­ring his Life-time. Lorenzo nettl'd at the Affront, which was inseparable from such kind of Refusals, laid hold on the first Oc­casion that Fortune presented him withal, to be reveng'd; and did it with a Success that had like to have ruin'd him and all his House, by the Intrigues and Snares I am go­ing to represent.

Sixtus the Fourth had been a poor Corde­lier of Savona, to whom Cardinal Bessarion's Esteem had acquired the Dignity of Cardinal. The wonderful Talent and Knack he had at Preaching, and the extraordinary Zeal which carried him to maintain the Immaculate Con­ception [Page 93]of the Mother of God, had insinua­ted him into the Party of those who valued themselves upon a particular, and (as I may say) singularis'd Devotion. Afterwards, he mounted to the See of St. Peter, by his Al­liance with Cardinal Borgia, and the hopes the Latter had of obtaining the Abby of Sublac, and other rich Benefices, for the ac­knowledgment of the Suffrages of a very powerful Faction in the Conclave, which he dispos'd of in Quality of Cardinal-Nephew.

After this, Sixtus never troubled his Head about concealing his Failures, as being no longer afraid of their injuring his Fortune. And it was observ'd, a little while after his coming to the Papacy, that he was agitated with a Warlike Spirit, directly contrary to his August and Heavenly Character, and pos­sess'd with such an Ambition to aggrandize his Family, that he did not value violating the Laws, or conniving at the most extraor­dinary Licentiousness, provided he raised it out of the Dust, wherein it had been buried.

This Ambition seemed so much the more strange, in that it from the very beginning passed over the Barriers his Predecessors had put to theirs, in what regarded their Rela­tions: For, whereas they had rested satisfied with delivering them out of Misery, in case they were oppress'd, or in helping them to [Page 94]maintain their Family, by Consideration, if it was Illustriot [...]s; Sixtus his aim was no­thing less, at his coming to the Papacy, than the preferring his to the Highest Dignities of Civil Life.

He had nine Nephews; namely, five of his own Name, della Rovere, who were Children of his three Brothers already dead; and four that went by the Names of Riari [...], Basso, and Sanson [...]o, which were the three Fa­milies into which his Sisters and one of his Nieces had married. Of the five Paternal Nephews, two of them were Sons of Rafaele his eldest Brother, namely, Giuliano and Gi [...] ­vani. Giuliano had received the Cardinals Cap that became vacant by his Uncle's Exal­tation, and the Title of Saint Peter in Bonds: And because he then testified an Inclination to France, he was made Bishop of Carpen­tras, by which means he insinuated himself into the Amity of King Lewis the Eleventh, who gave him many Benefices. Giovanni had acquired, at his Uncle's Cost, the Soveraign­ties of Sora and Sinigaglia, in Ʋmbria; and had such a fair Prospect, as to fansie he was almost secure of succeeding in the Dutchy of Ʋrbin, by his Marriage with Giovanna onely Daughter to the Famous Federico the Fiest, Duke of that State; for tho' Federico had a Son call'd Guidubar, that Son had so little [Page 95]Health, that the Physicians despair'd of his living long enough to leave any thing of his Name to Posterity. The Pope's third Nephew was his youngest Brother's onely Son, call'd Leonardo. He had the Trust of [...]refect of Rome, and was ally'd to the House of Naples, by marrying a Natural Daughter of King Ferrando. The fourth and fifth Ne­phews, call'd Christoforo and Domenico, were Sons of his Holinesses third Brother, and pos­sess'd the Seigneury of Viconovo, and several other Noble Lands towards the Coast of [...]eno [...]a.

But it was not the Excess onely of the Pope's Ambition, which rendred it insup­portable; it being accompanied with a Ca­priciousness of Humour, that was built nei­ther upon Interest nor Probability: For, tho' Sixtus in all appearance ought to have set a greater value on the five Nephews I have just mention'd, than on the four others, that onely appertain'd to him on the Womens side; tho' all manner of Reasons oblig'd him so to do; and tho' Giuliano alone, who was the eldest, was endued with all the wonder­ful Qualities which since rendred his Ponti­ficate so famous, under the Name of Giulio the Second; most certain it is, that he could never obtain from his Uncle [...]her to com­ [...]ort himself as Head of the House della [Page 96]Rovere, or do the Functions of Cardinal-Ne­phew; or that his Brother, or three Cousins, should any more than be profit by what was refus'd him.

In a word, Sixtus his strongest Inclinati­ons were ever in favour of his Sisters Chil­dren, and principally of the eldest, who had two, namely, Piero, and Geronimo Riario▪ [...]iero had been a Cordelier as well as his Uncle, and deserved perhaps thereby the preference in his Friendship. He was made Cardinal the same day as Giuliano, but had the advantage over him, in being declared Cardinal-Nephew, and carrying the Bishop­rick of Trevisa, which Giuliano had begg'd. Afterwards, he had the richest Benefices con­ferr'd on him, that fell vacant; and so pow­erful was he rendred, that he had the great­est Train of any of the Sacred College. But his Defects were so great, that Fortune alone could neither correct nor cover them: for, on the one side, he was so prodigal, that the Revenues of the Papacy could hardly cope with his hideous Expences; and in his time it was they first saw at Rome, since the Lord­ing Days of the Ancient Caesars, a Man who consumed in two years space Two hundred thousand Crowns, which he had got from his Uncle, and Sixty thousand he had bor­row'd. He obtain'd for himself the General [Page 97]Legantine Power in Italy, and visited by turns in that Quality the Princes and Re­publicks, that his Splendor and Magnificence might be the more seen and ador'd: but he had so weakned his Health by the multitude and excess of his Debauches, that he had al­most wholly lost the use of the most neces­sary Parts of the Body, at Five and twenty years of age.

Contrariwise, his Brother Geronimo, on whom the Pope had cast his Eyes, to make him his Principal Heir, was more severe, and had no fondness for any other Divertisement than that of Hunting. He loved Action to that degree, that after his rate of talking, there seem'd not to be any Affairs in the Ec­clesiastick State, of moment sufficient to em­ploy him. He would needs manage all, and was vex'd at those who dutifully offer'd to ease him; but in return, he burnt with the same Fire as his Uncle; and the Sove­raignty of Forli, which he had purchased so dear, had onely serv'd to give him the great­er disgust to a Private Life. And indeed, he had conceived so much Aversion to it, that he had prevail'd with the Pope to create Car­dinals Geronimo Basso his Aunt's Son, and Rafaele Sansonio his Sister's Son; and could not endure his other Relations, whom he was constrained to leave in the Obscurity of [Page 98]their Birth. He had been so cajoll'd by the Duke of Milan, that this Prince had match'd him with Caterina Sforza his Natural Daugh­ter; and the Pope, in consideration of this Alliance, had sent on the very Wedding-day a Cardinals Cap to the youngest of the Legi­timate Sons of that Duke, call'd Ascanio.

Riario had nothing more to do to com­pleat his Establishment, than to set footing in Ʋmbria, from whence it would have been easie for him to spread himself into Romagna, and perhaps likewise into Tuscany: but as he had no Troops, and that a great deal of Mo­ney was needful for the necessary Levies, his Uncle made no scruple of setting to sale the Offices of the Chancery, and the Court of Rome, which under the preceding Popes had ever been the Reward of Ability, or Virtue. He created five Colleagues, through whose Hands all Expeditions of the Datary must pass successively, and nine new Offices in the Apostolick Chamber, that were purchas'd at excessive Rates. He made no Reflexion ei­ther upon the ignominious Commerce he was going to introduce, on the honest Li­berty he was about to strip the Court of Rome of, or the Inconveniencies that would ensue from the time when a stop would be put to the Labour and Industry of the most refin'd Italians, by retrenching gratuitous Dignities, [Page 99]which serv'd them for a Bait, and enkindled their Emulation. He augmented the anci­ent Imposts, and created new ones. He cre­ated extraordinary Tenths, and likewise brought an Army on foot whereof the Car­dinal de San Piero accepted the Legation, ra­ther to satisfie his Warlike Humour, than out of kindness to Riario, whose Prosperity he could not look upon without Envy.

Federigo d' Ʋrbin was requested to accept of being General; and to engage him to act the more heartily, they changed his Genera­lity and Quality of Count, into that of Duke. They diminish'd the Duties and Arrears he Annually paid to the Apostolick Chamber, in Fealty for Ʋrbino. They fetch'd him to Rome, to receive the Honours commonly paid to Crowned Heads; and they caus'd him to go with the Cardinal of St. Peter in Bonds, to invest the City of Loddi, it being design'd for the first Flower of Riario's ima­ginary Monarchy. Loddi held out, and was taken by Assault, yet without being plun­der'd: They proceeded no farther than De­cimating the Inhabitants, and sav'd their E­states in consideration of him who was to be their Master.

The City of Spoletto had almost the same Fate, and was subdu'd with so much the more ease, in that those of Riario's Faction [Page 100]prevailed over the other Burgers, who had set themselves at Liberty; but they met with more Resistance at Citta di Castello, be­cause Nicola Vitelli, the Proprietor, shew'd more Resolution, and was better assisted. His particular Union with Lorenzo de Medici made him implore the Succours of the Flo­rentine Commonwealth, which refus'd him it publickly, at the same time that it granted it in private, because Lorenzo on the one side would not come to an open Rupture with the Pope, and on the other, was overjoy'd to revenge himself of the Affront he had re­ceiv'd, by supporting a Just Cause, and divert­ing the Danger wherewith his Country was threatned, supposing Riario should seise on Ʋmbria.

Thus, the new Duke d' Ʋrbino and the Cardinal-Legate were constrain'd to frame a Regular Siege before Citta di Castello, and see the bravest Troops they had rais'd, moul­der away before that Place. However, they gain'd it at length, tho' it was not till after three Months Circumvallation, and on Con­ditions more honourable to Vitelli than to the Besiegers, since they were reduc'd to let him continue still in the Place, in Quality of a Private Gentleman, by purchasing at a dear Rate the Lands he possess'd in the Neigh­bourhood. He had the Value of them paid [Page 101]him down on the nail, before the Capitula­tion was executed; and this ready Money enabled him to recover some time after, by Surprise, Citta di Castello, to drive shamefully thence Riario's Garrison, and raze the Citadel they had begun to build in that Place.

The Pope, who had been long enough Vitelli's Friend, to know him to the very bottom of his Soul, and judge, that he would not have been capable of making so subtle a Treaty as his was, or recovering so soon what he had lost, if Lorenzo de Medici had not as­sisted and prompted him under hand: the Pope, I say, conceiv'd such a spite against Lorenzo, as he could not dissemble: So diffi­cult is it to disguise the Passions, when they are arriv'd to an Excess. He fell into a kind of Frantick Fit, at the first news that was brought him thereof; he turn'd pale with Fury; he wept; he lost his Stomach, and remain'd some days without daring to hold a Consistory.

To the Florentines he complain'd thereof, in Terms highly injurious to Lorenzo, which menac'd him with something very hideous and fatal: but the Re-establishment of Vi­telli had been manag'd with so much Cun­ning and Secresie, that the Nuncio residing at Florence could never produce against Lo­renzo other than such weak Conjectures as [Page 102]fell presently of themselves. Thus all the Satisfaction the Pope obtain'd, was made up onely of most humble and obedient Comple­ments; and Lorenzo was absolv'd after a man­ner sufficiently glorious to confound his Ac­cusers. Vitelli remain'd peaceable in Citta di Castello, the Pope having no more Armies for the Besieging it again; and his Holiness, in whom this Disgrace had onely augmented the Desire of aggrandizing Riario, under­stood, that he was to proceed in that Design by such ways as created fewer Enviers, and were not so subject to Obstructions.

The first that offer'd it self, was that of the Acquisition of Faenza; and Fortune onely started it, to have the pleasure of shamming Sixius once again. This City serv'd exact­ly for a Center to his old Design, for that it was situated in the midst of the Government, which he pretended to found for his Nephew, in the Provinces of Romagna, Tuscany, and Ʋmbria. It had already, for several Ages, belong'd to the House of the Manfredi's: But Astorre, who then held it with the Title of Soveraignty, had been so prodigal in his Expences, that his Revenue being uncapable of paying the Interest of what he ow'd, his Creditors had had recourse to the Apostolick Chamber, and had caus'd him to be sum­mon'd in Quality of one owing Fealty to the [Page 103]Holy See, for the being reimburs'd their Principal.

Astorre appear'd by his Attorney, and desir'd time: But as his Spoil was so considerable, as to oblige his Judges to become Parties against him, his Estate was call'd in by Out-cry, and adjudg'd to his Creditors for Thirty thou­sand Crowns, in case they were not paid in forty days after the signification of the Sen­tence.

The Creditors had agreed with the Pope to make over their Rights to Riario for the like Sum; but Lorenzo had no sooner notice of it, but he resolv'd to break the Bargain. Not but that he foresaw, there needed no­thing more to make the Pope's Fury burst out, and hamper himself in a Business that would last as long as the Life of him he was going to shock: Nevertheless he proceeded in it; whether he thought he had already so incens'd Pope Sixtus, that no Measures were any longer to be kept with him; or that he accounted the Acquisition of Faenza by the Riario's so prejudicial to Florence, that not onely his Riches and his Life, but also the State, were to be hazarded for the pre­venting of it. And indeed he underhand procured People to let Astorre know, That if he would treat with them, and give them a Procuration in right Form, they would en­deavour [Page 104]to acquit it, without making him lose his Soveraignty. Astorre receiv'd them with open Arms, abandoning to them all his Revenues for Twenty years, in consideration of an Annual Pension of Two thousand Du­cats, on condition to discharge it, and deli­vering a Power, by whose favour they went immediately to summon his Creditors to re­ceive their Reimbursement.

The Pope having not in the least dream'd, that Lorenzo durst provoke him once again, did not believe that Astorre's Engagists acted in good earnest. And as his Pericranium was easily possess'd with certain things, he ima­gin'd that Astorre had made use of this Slight, to obtain some days longer Respite. To no purpose was Riario's Representation, That it was convenient to have recourse to some For­malities and Quirks of Law, for the avoid­ing the Signification of the Engagists; he continu'd fix'd to have the Creditors taken at their Word, so to render their pretended Collusion the more ridiculous. But when the Act of their Consent was taken, and they pressed to agree on the Day and Hour of Payment; when they had given them the Choice of Species, and told them out the Money; then the Pope's Hatred against Le­renzo broke out so much the more, in that he had retrench'd himself of all Judiciary means [Page 105]to hinder the Reimbursement. However, it became him to put a good face on't in Pub­lick, and chearfully conclude the Affair, wait­ing for a fitter Opportunity to make Lorenzo feel the Recoil and Counter-stroke of the Acquisition he had prevented.

Here would be the Place to relate the Pazzi's Conspiracy, which was onely the Product of those two bold Actions Lorenzo de Medici had newly done. But Politian, the greatest Humanist, and a Man the most skill'd in Polite Learning since its first Re­establishment in Europe, hath given us so fine and pathetick a Descrption of it, that it is almost impossible to add any thing thereunto. Thus I should be obliged to transcribe it Word for Word, or abridge it, as the Historians of Florence since have done, without excepting Francisco Nero the Lawyer, who exercis'd his Talent upon the same Subject, by Queen Ca­tharine of Medicis her Order. But as this is denied me by Procopius, I can adventure no farther than to set down here such Particu­lars of that Conspiracy as have been omitted, and borrow from History some Incidents, necessary for the weaving them all into a Piece.

Francesco Pazzi was such another Man, as Catiline represented by Salust. He had all the good and bad Qualities of that Roman [Page 106]Adventurer, and principally that of not ha­ving blunted in Debauchery either the Viva­city of his excellent Wit, or his innate en­terprising Humour. His Family was rec­kon'd among the Best of Florence, and his Father left him vast Riches, which onely sup­ply'd for some few years the Luxury of his Table, and his other Diversions. The im­possibility of borrowing anew, reduc'd him to leave his Native Country, and go to Rome, where the most extraordinary Genius he had at inventing new Impositions, under plausi­ble Pretexts, first introduc'd him into the Knowledge, and then into the Pope's Inti­macy and Trust. By means of this Famili­arity, Pazzi stepping from Concerns of the Bank into those of Policy, and seeing the Pope in the utmost rage against the House of Medici, and in the fatal Disposition that Hatred must have attain'd to, for the becom­ing inveterate and irreconcileable; he pro­pos'd to him the exterminating it, by an At­tempt that might instate the Family of the Riario's in the Place the Medici's held at Flo­rence. I should not dare to say this, unless I had Onuphrius for my Warrantee, a Learned Augustin Friar, entirely devoted to the Inte­rests of the Court of Rome: That Sixtus em­brac'd the Overture, on condition that after the Murther of Lorenzo & Gluliano de Medici, [Page 107]a kind of Governement should be settled at Florence, in which all things should be re­gulated according to the Intention of the Holy See; and that the Pope to avoid the Scandal all Christendom would receive, if it appear'd, that his Holiness, who ought onely to harbour Thoughts of Gentleness and Le­nity, after his Example from whom he de­riv'd all his Authority, had trolled in his Understanding so black a Crime, and of so long Execution, he caus'd the Model of it to be drawn up by his Nephew Riario, and commanded him in secret to concert it with Pazzi, and take all the Measures necessary for the bringing it about.

Riario and Pazzi agreed, That the Enter­prise was of such a Consequence, that the bare Forces of the Ecclesiastick State were not sufficient to buoy it up; and that before all things, it was necessary to hook the Duke of Milan and the King of Naples into the De­sign. The Duke of Milan would have been much more proper for such a Business, by reason of the Neighbourhood of that Duke­dom, and of the easiness of receiving thence Provisions necessary for the surprising Flo­rence, and carrying on the War. But this Prince had the Imputation of keeping his Word with so little exactness, that there was no likelihood of embarking him in an Affair, [Page 108]of which he would have become the Master, as soon as he should have been trusted with the Secret; besides, he was so fickle in matter of Aversion, as well as of Friendship, that there was no relying on his not treating with his Capital Enemy, an hour after having conju­red his Ruine.

The King of Naples was farther distant from Florence, and more bewildred in Dome­stick Matters; but, in recompense, had a Sanguinary Disposition, and by consequence more susceptible of the Design they pretend­ed to inspire him with. Moreover, he hated the House of Medici, since it had the Confi­dence to sound him upon a Match of Lorenzo with one of his Legitimate Daughters, be­fore he married Clarice Orsini. In short, there were Troops at Naples, which were to be Shipp'd in order to their putting in Refresh­ments into Santori, the Siege of which Place the Turks had been constrain'd to raise; and those Troops might advance towards Tuscany without giving suspicion, because the Patri­mony of St. Peter was bound to defray part of them.

Whereupon, the Pope was besought to send to Naples such a trusty Man, as should so sweetly tickle King Ferrand's Humour in the most sensible part, by persuading him, that the Scope of the Revolution they meant [Page 109]to introduce into the Florentine Republick, was onely to re-establish the Kingdom of Estruria, whose Scepter should be sway'd by his Natural Daughter, for whom he had more affection than for the rest of his Children; that might make him consent to what was desired of him. The Emissary that was di­spatch'd to him, push'd on the Point much further: for, to hamper him in such manner as that this timerous Prince might have no pretext to go back, he made him send the Duke of Calabria, his eldest Son, into Tusca­ny, under the Sham of folliciting new Assig­nations of the Arrears of Pay owing him from the Commonwealth of Florence; but, in effect, to be upon the Spot when the Con­spiracy should break forth, and to fix by his Authority, and the Renown of his Valour, those who had not yet determined what they had to do, or else to draw in the Principal of the Florentine Nobility, who would re­fuse declaring against the House of Medici, unless they saw they were abetted by a Prince of that Consideration.

The Duke of Calabria began the Journey that was enjoyn'd him, without knowing what he was going about, they having judg'd him too Sincere and Generous to take upon him so shameful a Commission, if he had penetrated into the Mystery of the Busi­ness. [Page 110]He was onely given to understand, That he went to Head those Forces, whom the Pope had given good Quarters to in Ro­magna, that so his Presence might oblige them to live with more reservedness. But Ria­rio's and Pazzi's extended still much farther. The Cardinal-Nephew's continual Riots had squatted him in his Coffin at twenty eight years old; and the regret Riario had for his Brother's untimely Death, did not hinder him from endeavouring to keep his Benefices and Dignities in his Family. To that intent, having not yet any Boys out of the Cradle, he bethought himself of making young Ra­facle Sansonio, his Sisters Son, go by the Name of Riario, and presented him to the Pope to fill the Place of Cardinal-Nephew, tho' he was as yet but seventeen years of age. The Pope, who could deny Riario nothing immediately preferr'd that young Man into the Rank he desired; and Riario, to take ad­vantage of the Good he had newly procur'd him, sent him into Tuscany, under the masque of perfecting his Studies at Pisa, which for Law at that time was the most celebrated University in Italy. But in truth, he had laid his Measures so well, that the young Cardinal Riario was to take a Journey to Florence, without any other Intention on his part, than of viewing that fair City; tho' [Page 111] Riario's aim was for him to be there just at the time the Conspiracy should be executed, that: so his Presence might animate such of the Plotters as were irresolv'd or fearful, and bring all the Authority, which Pazzi judg'd necessary, for the Consummation of the Con­spiracy.

There remained nothing more than the gaining Francesco Salviati, Archbishop of Pi­sa, by reason of using the Credit he had at Florence, and to have upon all Events and Occasions a Retreat into his Palace. Old Pazzi took upon him this Commission, and perform'd it almost without any trouble, by reason that the Resemblance of their Amours and Fortune had engag'd them in so particu­lar an Union, that they blindly espous'd one anothers Passions and Caprices. They were both of an age, and they were created Knights on the same day: They made no Profession of any Virtue, either Moral or Christian; they plaid perpetually at Dice, swore confoundedly, and shew'd no respect to Religious Matters.

But besides this Society of Debauchery and Riot, two Reasons there were, that fastned the Archbishop of Pisa on the Undertaking. First, Because that in the pursuit of the Arch­bishoprick, which he had got by Cabal, by Flattery, and other irregular Courses, which [Page 112]were then more in use in Italy, than they had been for nine or ten Ages afore, this Prelate had met with no greater Opposition than what came from those two Brothers de Me­dici, tho' he had surmounted them at length, by the Pazzi's Credit at the Court of Rome.

The other Reason was, That to noose this retchless and voluptuous Spirit in an Enter­prise which requir'd so extraordinary an Ap­plication, they were forc'd to sooth him with the Honour he would acquire by declaring himself the Deliverer of his Country, and assuring him, moreover, of a Cardinal's Cap at the first Promotion.

Now, they had nothing more to do, than to assemble, in a Place convenient, for the drawing up the Model of the Conspiracy; and Giacomo Pazzi offer'd for that purpose his House of Pleasure at Montuglio, where the Principal Accomplices met, under shew of a Hunting-Match. There it was concluded, That Francesco Pazzi, who had lately insi­nuated himself into the Confidence of Giuli­ano de Medici, through the Hopes he had given him of favouring him with a Lady whom he extremely lov'd, should mind him to persuade Lorenzo, that tho' their House had no great reason to be satisfied with the Pope, yet it was becomingly handsom, con­sidering the First Rank he held at Florence, to [Page 113]treat the Cardinal-Nephew, tho' it were onely to testifie to the People, That his Re­sentment was quite over, for the Rebuff he had met with at Rome.

They supposed Lorenzo de Medici would immediately take the Cue, because they knew, the two Brothers lived in such Unity, that the one had no sooner explain'd his Mind upon Honest, and even Indifferent Things, than the other consented to them: Besides, his Humour was so naturally prone to Magnificency, and to paying that sort of Devoirs, that Decorum and Civility exacted frem Persons elevated above the Common Rank, that there needed nothing else to di­spose him efficaciously thereto, than the fur­nishing him with the Occasion. Thus, as they suspected it would be in one of their Country-Houses that these two Brothers would receive the Cardinal-Nephew, to make him the better rellish the Divertise­ments of the Season; it was concluded, that his young Eminency should be conducted by one half of the Conspirators, who should snap the Opportunity of assassinating the two Brothers in the midst of the Feast; while the other half, that were to stay be­hind in the City, should with the Archbi­shop's assistance excite the Sedition, and en­deavour to riot the People, by making their [Page 114]Ears ring with the pleasing Word of LI­BERTY.

Francesco Pazzi perform'd his Commission in the very first Visit he paid to Giuliano de Medici: For, after the Compliment at en­trance, he civilly besought him, with a jo­cund tone, to tell him the Day that his Bro­ther and he had chosen for the Regale of the Cardinal-Nephew, because his Uncle being willing to do them the Honour of being the first to treat his Eminency, was preparing to invite him on the morrow. Giuliano was a little surpris'd, and blush'd at this Question, by reason of the Coldness that was between his Brother and the Riario's on his account; however, he made answer, That his Brother had not as yet spoke to him of it, expecting the Cardinal-Nephew to tarry some time at Florence; but that nevertheless they would that Night discourse the Point together. And indeed, Lorenzo had no sooner notice that the Pazzi were to entertain the Cardinal-Nephew, but he thought it behov'd his Ho­nour to be beforehand with them. He took his Measures with his Brother for that pur­pose, and gave the necessary Orders towards the preparation of a magnificent Feast in the House of Frejola, which he judg'd more commodious than his other Seats of Pleasure. The Cardinal-Nephew was invited, his Day [Page 115]ask'd, and he oblig'd to appoint it, after he had for a long while very handsomly excus'd his so doing; and Giuliano de Medici let Francesco Pazzi know it.

The Conspirators made all ready with so much the more ease, in that the very Per­sons they meant to assassinate, furnish'd them in the nick of time with all the Precautions they needed to keep, by informing them af­ter what manner Lorenzo de Medici pretend­ed to do the Honours of his House. But the Day being come, Giuliano was seis'd with such a Defluxion upon his Eyes, and with so troublesom an Overflowing of Flegm upon the Stomach, that it was impossible for him to quit his Bed. Lorenzo, seeing his Mien strangely alter'd, was far from pressing him to rise; but sent for the Physicians, and con­jur'd them to have a care of a Health that was no less precious to him than his own, taking Horse immediately, to get to Frejola, before the Company he was there to en­tertain.

He came out to meet the Cardinal, and accosting him with a Countenance on which something sad was easie to be discern'd, he begg'd his Pardon for being there alone to pay him that Office. He accus'd the Acci­dent that had befallen his Brother; he ex­press'd his Circumstances in such Terms, as [Page 116]almost madded the Conspirators, as acquaint­ing them by what whimsical Adventure For­tune had robb'd them of one of their Vi­ctims. But as there was no remedy, they were forc'd to compose their Looks like Men who had no other Thoughts than those of Recreation. At the very first they had agreed not to execute their Enterprise by halves, because that one of the two Brothers remaining alive, would have been sufficient to maintain the Advantages of his House in the Republick of Florence. Thus, the Paz­zi's having a little recollected themselves from the Amazement in which they were plung'd by Giuliano's absence, had nothing else to do, than dispatch one of their Accom­plices to the Archbishop of Pisa, to let him know the Disappointment, that so there might be no unseasonable and ineffectual Commotions in the City.

The Feast at Frejola was very Magnifi­cent, and Lorenzo de Medici spar'd nothing of what might serve to persuade the Cardi­nal-Nephew into an Opinion of the profound Respect he had for the Pope, notwithstanding all past Transactions. The Cardinal-Nephew, who knew nothing of the Personage he was put upon acting, had the less trouble to com­mend the Delicacy of the Meats, and the Exactness wherewith they were served. The [Page 117]Conspirators were not able to constrain themselves with so much Artifice, but that it would have been easie for Lorenzo to ob­serve that they were extremely unhing'd, if his sollicitude for his Brother's Illness had left him all the freedom of Mind that was natu­ral to him, and if he had had less application to what he did. He acquitted his Share of it with much politeness, and the Cardinal-Nephew departed from Frejola, equally sa­tisfied with the Courtesie and Good Chear of his Harbinger.

By this Disappointment the Conspirators were not discourag'd from their Attempt: And as Giuliano's Fluxion was spent in a few days, they fancied his Brother and he wou'd not fail of being on the Sunday following, the twenty sixth of April, at the Great Church, tho' it were onely to accompany the Cardinal-Nephew, who meant to see its Ceremonies. Upon this, they fram'd a se­cond Project, for the assassinating the two Brothers de Medici in the Temple. The Im­piety of the Plot, besides the Majesty of the Place, could not be more execrable; since they took for a Signal the august moment of the most awful among the Christian My­steries; I mean, the time when the Priest should lift up the Host. Then Antonio Vol­terra, and the Governour of the young Prin­ces [Page 118] Pazzi, call'd Signiore Stephano, engag'd to kill Lorenzo de Medici with their Poig­niards, while Francesco Pazzi and Bernardo Bandini should by the same Course dispatch Giuliano. The Archbishop of Pisa, follow'd by Giacopo Poggio, Son to the Tutor of the two Brothers de Medici, and accompanied by the greatest number of the Conspirators, and all Salviati's Kindred, that were in great Consideration, undertook to seise at the same time the Town-house, under pretext of vi­siting Cesare Petruzzi, who lodg'd there in Quality of Gonfaloniere. And old Giacopo Pazzi, at the very instant he should have word brought him of the two Brothers Death, was to take Horse, adorn'd with his Collar, and march directly to the principal Place, where all the Friends of his Family should wait for him in the posture of Armed Men, to afford Assistance to the Archbishop of Pisa, if he stood in need of any, against the Town-house.

For the better security, Francesco Pazzi would needs know of Giuliano de Medici, whether his Brother and he would not be at the Temple; and Giuliano made him an­swer, That they would not fail of paying their Attendance. And indeed, the Hour and Day being come, Lorenzo was there one of the first, as designing to receive the Sacra­ments [Page 119]of Penitence and the Fucharist: and the two Men appointed to assassinate him, went and planted themselves by him. But they had already begun to sing the Anthems Introductory to the Mass, when as Giuliano did not yet appear; whether his Good Ge­nius had made him change his Design, or that he had spent too much time in Dressing: The Conspirators were very uneasie on this account, and they already fancied their En­terprise disappointed, because that failing the second time, it was morally impossible to keep it secret, considering the multitude of those that were privy to the Plot: When that Francesco Pazzi bethought himself of a Trick, which accordingly did his Business. He took his Companion Bandini along with him, and scour'd immediately to Giuliano's Apartment-door. They found him busie a curling his Hair, and saluted him with a Countenance that could be neither more jo­cund, nor more calm. They check'd him after a merry, gay, and facetious manner, for his Sloth; and Francesco Pazzi taking him aside, told him, his Mistress was at Church, so beauteous, and well dress'd, as chal­leng'd the ogling of all the young Gentle­men. This Hint entirely vanquish'd Giuli­ano's Resistance, and surmounted the last Ob­stacle that his good Demon interpos'd to his [Page 120]Misfortune. He made ready with all dili­gence; and those two Murderers, under pre­tense of seconding his Impatience, serv'd him for Valets de Chambre. Then they took him under the Arms, and conducted him in that posture to the Church, where they were no sooner arriv'd, but the Priest lift up the Ado­rable Host, and unwittingly gave a Signal ex­pected by the Conspirators, for the commit­ting the most hideous of Sacrileges.

Pazzi and Bandini stabb'd Giuliano to death with their Poigniards, and did the like to Nori his Domestick, as he was going to draw his Sword. Lorenzo had not come off at a cheaper rate, had the others faln upon him at the same Instant: But as his Murderers were not so diligent as his Brother's, whom he already perceiv'd they had Poigniarded, that sad Spectacle made him draw his Dagger with his Right Hand, and wrap up his Left Arm in his Cloke. When he was attack'd by Antonio de Volterra, and by Steffano the Priest, he defended himself with a Presence of Mind that wrought his Safety: For, tho' at the very first he receiv'd a Wound in the Neck, from whence there gush'd a great deal of Blood, he parry'd so long, that his Friends, who being back'd by some couragious Priests, had the leisure to joyn him, and cant him into a Vestry, that was accidentally open, [Page 121]shutting the Door upon him before Bandini could reach him, who ran after to dispatch him out-right. In the mean while, the Arch­bishop of Pisa came to the Town-house, and ask'd to speak with the Gonfaloniere. The Porter made answer, He had order to let no Christian in, for that the Gonfaloniere was newly set down to Dinner with the Captains of the Wards, whom he had invited. The Archbishop was a little startled at this Acci­dent, which he had not foreseen; and ma­king use of the first Sham that came into his Head, he replied to the Porter, That he must necessarily speak with the Gonfaloniere at that very instant, as bringing him Orders from the Pope, that could not be one mo­ment deferred. The Porter did so much the more easily believe what the Archbishop told him, in that he saw an extraordinary Attendance; and without making further Reflexion, went to tell the Gonfaloniere, That the Archbishop of Pisa had a Brief to deliver him from his Holiness. The Gonfaloniere thought it very strange, that this Prelate should come and importune him at a time, when People are not wont to treat of Serious Matters. However, as it was unhandsom to deny him Admittance, he rose from Table, went to receive him, and led him into an Upper Room. This was done so in a trice, [Page 122]because the Gonfaloniere was afraid of making his Guests wait, that the Archbishop had not the leisure either to resolve in himself, or to agree with his Accomplices, after what man­ner he should back the Lie they had paum'd upon the Porter. From thence it came, that when the Gonfaloniere, after the first Com­pliments, ask'd him for the Brief he brought from the Pope, he not onely made no posi­tive Answer, but furthermore, the Crime he was involv'd in presenting it self then to his Imagination, with all its Blackness, disturb'd him in such manner, that he cou'd not for­bear blushing and turning pale at the same time, nor shewing by frightful Looks, and a stammering ruffl'd Speech, part of what he had in his Mind.

Then the Gonfaloniere, a Man exceeding distrustful, (as are commonly all Florentines) suspected that Ambuscades were laid for him; and leaving the Prelate dumb and asto­nish'd, rush'd out of the Chamber, to call the Soldiers which the Republick maintain'd for the Guard of his Person, and of the Town-House. Poggio, who went in with the Archbishop, wou'd have with-held the Gonfaloniere; but this Magistrate being stronger than he, knock'd him down with his First, and made but two Leaps to get in­to the Dining-room, and give his Guests [Page 123]notice to seek their Safety in the Dungeon. He made them pop into it, and stood upon the Steps, to defend and ward the Passage with a Spit, which meer Hazard put into his Hands.

The Conspirators that attended the Arch­bishop, out of respect staid all at the bottom of the great Stair-case, except Poggio, who had taken him under the Arms, to help and usher him up; and had divided themselves into the Hall of the first Story, which serv'd for the Meetings of the respective City-Companies or Guilds, for fear their Multi­tude should give Umbrage, if they were per­ceiv'd all together. Whereupon, a Circum­stance is to be remark'd, which having been omitted by the Florentine Historians, renders their Narration obscure and defectuous; namely, That the Gonfaloniere's, when they entred upon the Magistracy, were wont to cause all the Wards of the Town-house Locks to be chang'd: And Cesare Petruzzi, who had then that Character, and valu'd himself upon being an Engineer, had caus'd them to be made with so much Artifice, that the Doors, upon the least touch, shut of them­selves, but could not be open'd without the Keys, which by consequence remain'd ever tied to the Porters Girdles.

Thus, in the very moment that the Gon­faloniere [Page 124]call'd for Help with an hideous Out­cry, the Hall-doors of the first Story came to be shut up, and the Conspirators caught (as it were) in a Trap. The People, natu­rally inclin'd to Superstition, were afterwards persuaded that the thing happen'd miracu­lously; and Lorenzo de Medici did not trou­ble his Head much to undeceive them, be­cause it was for his advantage, that his Country-men were of opinion, that Heaven concern'd it self most visibly in preserving the Race of Medici. But it's more safe to attribute the Cause of this Event either to some one of the Gonfaloniere's Domesticks, who having his Mind less possess'd with Fear than his Camrades, bethought himself of pulling to the Doors; or to the Tumult which arose in the Town-house, sufficiently great to make upon the Doors a Motion ca­pable of shutting of themselves; or to the Conspirators, who at that very instant they heard the Gonfaloniere call out to Arms, ima­gin'd they were betray'd, that their Conspi­racy was discover'd, that the Archbishop of Pisa was a Prisoner, and that People were coming to them to seise upon their Persons. Thus the Care of their own Preservation, banishing from their Minds the Design of making thmselves Masters of the Town-Hall, they now thought of nothing but of [Page 125]barricadoing, and making a stout Defence, till their Companions, who were in the great Church, having massacred the two Medici's, or those that were to secure the Publick Place under the Orders of Chevalier Pazzi, could run to disengage them.

Not to determine any thing in this Case, There they remain'd, coop'd up, till Lorenzo de Medici, having been taken out of the Ve­stry, where the Priests had bound up his Wound, was brought back to his own House, by a great multitude of People, of all the Orders of the City, and principally of the Mobile. From thence he caus'd himself to be carried to the Town-House, where all the Magistrates were immediately conven'd. Not very long was the Deliberation, because the Medici's Friends having had the leisure to send unto all Parts, to inform the Citizens of what occur'd, they had exaggerated Giuli­ano's Murther, and the Peril with which the Commonweal was threatned, with Terms so pathetick, that the whole Town had ta­ken Arms, and the Boldest had seis'd on all Avenues of the Guild Hall, setting Guards in the Great Place which was before it. Thus, there was nothing else heard from all Parts, than a Confusion of Voices, which demand­ed a good and speedy Justice: And as it was not in the least to be deferr'd, without seeing [Page 126]the Great Gate shut up by the number of those who offer'd themselves to serve for Ex­ecutioners, the Magistrates caus'd Ropes to be fastned to the Bars of the Windows, where the unhappy Poggio was the first hang'd, and then the other Plotters; who seeing on one side the Fury of the People ex­traordinarily animated against them, and the Doors broke down by Order of the pre­sent Magistrates, yielded themselves up on Discretion, because they cou'd not do other­wise, at least without killing one another.

Never Spectacle was so hideous, and yet never Spectacle wrought less Compassion. The Malefactor was scarce half strangled, when they cut the Rope for him, to make room for another; the Body fell down, and the People immediately tore it to pieces. Not a Man of them was exempt from the Punishment; and all the Favour that was shewn to the most Illustrious among the Ac­complices, was to execute them the last. Francesco Pazzi, the Author of the Conspi­spiracy, who had wounded himself dange­rously in striking Giuliano de Medici, could not get out of the Town, and was fain to hide himself in his Uncle's House, where he was discover'd by a Maid, and was conduct­ed to the Town-House.

The Curious observ'd, That he spoke not [Page 127]so much as one word, and there appear'd not any Mark of Reluctance in his Countenance, but onely the Signs of a most disdainful and lofty Fierceness. He was hang'd at the Window that is just above the great Gate, and there immediately appear'd the Archbi­shop of Pisa to keep him Company. They first induc'd him to discover the whole Train of the Conspiracy, and to write it down, and sign it with his own Hand; which that Prelate was prevail'd with to do, upon a be­lief, that the Magistrates coming to be mov'd by this Effect of Condescendency, would shew respect to his Character, and abate something of their Severity. Yet he was serv'd like the rest; and whether they had a mind to add a peculiar Infamy to the Pu­nishment that was common to him with his Accomplices; or, the ardour of the Hang­man that executed him was too great to ex­amine what he did; or, in short, that they were glad to put that Affront upon the Court of Rome, in order to punish it at least in that manner, for having been fingering in so de­testable an Action: This unfortunate Prelate was noos'd up in the Pontifical Robes he chanced to have on. The nearest Spectators of his Execution observ'd, That when he was turn'd off, he fastned his Teeth in Pazzi's Body that hung at the next Bar, and [Page 128]bit his left Pap with so much fury, that the Executioner had much ado to make him let go his hold.

His Brother, and Cousin-german, who went both by the Name of Giacopo Salviati, were truss'd up by him: but the old Cheva­lier Pazzi, advancing into the Publick Place, to raise and mutiny the People, seeing they listen'd to him no otherwise than by way of derision, and began already to surround him, and pelt him with Stones from off the Hou­ses tops, spurr'd on his Horse, that was in­deed a vigorous Steed, made his way through, and got happily out through the Gate della Cruce: But he retiring towards the Moun­tains, and having no Money about him, was constrain'd at two days end to take Re­fuge in a Cottage, to get some Food, and sell his Horse. He was known by the Peasant he address'd himself to; and that Man be­ing not altogether rustick and dull, immedi­ately harbour'd a Design upon the Person of his Guest, for the gaining the Reward which the Magistrates had appointed for him that should bring him in. He receiv'd him with great appearance of Humanity, and made him the best Chear he could. He persuaded him to stay in the same Place, while he went to sell his Horse; but in stead of performing what he promis'd, he went and discover'd [Page 129]him to the Magistrates of Florence, who sent immediately to take him up. His Process was perform'd in the wonted Formality: and [...]ttering himself with the same Hopes that made the Archbishop of Pisa reveal all the Secrets of the Conspiracy, he confirm'd that Prelate's Deposition, and added thereto the Names of the Accomplices, and the Share that each had had in it. In a word, he did all that Cunning and a base Pusilanimity in­spir'd him with, to save his Life: But when he saw that they proceeded, however, to con­demn him to the Gallows, and that they sent him a Priest to prepare him for Death, he laid aside the Masque, and would not hear­ken to any other Sentiments than those which Corrupted Nature suggests to Mad and Desperate Persons. He obstinately refus'd to die as a Christian, and di'd invoking the Devil. Yet the Magistrates were not want­ing to see him buried in a Church in Florence, where his Ancestors had been Interr'd; but the Rabble, whose Fury was augmented by the last Contempt which the Malefactor shew'd to the Holy Sacraments, unearth'd his Body, and threw it in the Laystall; from whence Justice caus'd it to be taken, and secretly buried in a Church-yard: But this onely serv'd to renew the Tumult; for, di­scovering the Place where he was, they [Page 130]open'd the Ditch with their Nails, took out his Carcass, dragg'd it along the Streets, and after the men were grown weary of disfi­guring it, they abandon'd it to Children, who threw it into the River Arno.

Rinato Pazzi, his Cousin, was no more hap­py, tho' he had a less dangerous Commission. He had taken upon him to make the Pea­sants of Mugello revolt; but those Bumpkins tied him Hand and Foot, brought him to the Town-house, where he found his Process made, and the Hangman ready to execute it. Of all the Conspirators, onely the brave Montesecco had the favour of being put to death after a less infamous manner.

Montesecco, one of the gallantest Men of Italy, espous'd Riario's Interests, and onely out of compliance to him had a hand in the Conspiracy. He promis'd to Poigniard Lo­renzo de Medici at the Feast of Frejola; but the Execution having been put off, he fell by chance into Conversation with this Lorenzo, and was so charm'd with his Perfections, that he refus'd to kill him, under the shift, that when he had giv'n his Word, 'twas onely to commit an Homicide, by assassinating a Man in his House; and not an execrable Sacri­lege, by profaning the Altars with his Blood. His Excuse was allow'd of, because the young Pazzi's Tutor offer'd his Service to supply [Page 131]his Place: And as he was neither in the Great Church, nor in the Town-house, he had the better Conveniency of making his Escape; but he could not so soon take Refuge in the State of the Church, but that the Garrison of Radicosano stopp'd him upon the way, and sent him with a strong Guard to Florence, where he had his Head struck off.

Seigniore Stefano and Antonio de Volterra, who were to have assassinated Lorenzo de Medici, having thus miss'd their aim, thought it high time to slip out of the Church in the beginning of the Fray; and while those who assisted at the Mass were too much ter­rifi'd, and too busie about Giuliano's Body, and Lorenzo's Person, to mind the Murderers, they stole softly to the Door, and made their Escape to a Monastery, where they were re­ceiv'd by the Religious, who three days ab­stain'd discovering them, whether they took pity of them, or would thereby maintain their Convent in the Right of Sanctuary, which they pretended to have obtain'd from Popes and Emperours. But the Magistrates order'd a general Search throughout the City, which was perform'd with so much exactness, that the said Seigniore Stefano and his Companion were drawn out of the Place where they thought they were in Safety, and conducted to Punishment.

All the Pazzi's Relations, all their Allies, nay, and all those that had any Engagement with them, were clapp'd up in Prison, tho' there was not any Proof against them; and Guglielmo de Pazzi was confin'd for all his Life long to a Village, notwithstanding he had marri'd Lorenzo de Medici's Sister, and that this Virtuous Lady had thrown her self at her Brother's and the Magistrates Feet, to obtain, that her Husband might remain free, since he had been wholly clear'd by all the Depositions of the Accomplices. This was somewhat an extraordinary thing, that in so great a number of Conspirators, there was but one that could get out of the Domi­nions of Florence, without being seis'd; and this very Person that escap'd, was the most culpable of all.

It's well enough known, that I mean Ban­dini. This Assassinate had not been so very much blinded with the Promises of Impuni­ty, wherewith Riario had soothed his Ac­complices, as not to provide for the Security of his Person in case of necessity. He had borrow'd from his Friends, and from those who engag'd him in the Conspiracy, conside­rable Sums, which he put into Venetian Mer­chants Hands, for the receiving them in Con­stantinople six Months afterwards. Moreo­ver, his Man waited for him near the Great [Page 133]Church, with a Horse of Value; and some Banditti's of his Acquaintance were walking in the Porch, to make him way, and favour his Escape.

With these Precautions, he alone did more than all the other Conspirators together: He first boar'd Giuliano de Medici with a Poigniard, thrust under the Left Pap; and seeing that Pazzi stood obstinately giving him an hundred Stabs when dead, he left him to enjoy so ridiculous a Revenge, and turning towards Nori, Giuliano's Domestick, he plung'd his Dagger into his small Guts; then turn'd his Eyes towards Lorenzo, in the very moment he was saving himself in the Vestry, all wounded as he was. After ha­ving rid his Hands of those two Murders, he ran likewise to dispatch him, and had got up so near him, that he would have effected his Purpose, but for the Address of an Ecclesia­stick, who repulsing Bandini with his Cro­sier-Staff, while Lorenzo entred, after having shut the Door with so much precipitation, that Bandini had not the leisure to put his Foot within, soon enough to hinder it.

Lorenzo having thus avoided Death, Ban­dini stole slily away to the Church-door, from whence, by favour of those who wait­ed for him there, he reach'd the Street, and mounting his Horse, got out of the Gate [Page 134] della Cruce, and in stead of taking the way to the State of the Church, by which he foresaw they would infallibly pursue him, he fled tow'rds the Sea, where he ran less risque of being known, because the Country was less frequented, principally in the State of Sienna. And indeed, he got safe to Corneto, a Port depending on that Republick, where, by a lucky adventure, he found a Ship ready to set sail to the Levant. Embarking in this Ship, his Voyage was cross'd neither by Py­rats nor by Tempest; but he arriv'd at Ga­lata, where he receiv'd the Money due upon the Bills of Exchange. He pitch'd on that City for his Abode, where he had already al­most setled, when he saw himself expos'd to the Punishment he thought he had avoided.

Lorenzo de Medici's Factors discover'd him in Galata, notwithstanding all his Care to conceal his Person; and as they had Access to Cady Bashaw the First Visier, they repre­sented to him, That the Sultan his Master was too just, to suffer any longer in his Do­minions the most Criminal of Mankind; That it was blaz'd about in Christendom, That his Highness had shewn an Horrour upon hearing the Circumstances of the Pazzi's Conspiracy; and that it was not doubted, but he had so much Goodness, as to refuse his Protection to a Man who had been its Prin­cipal [Page 135]Executioner. This Remonstrance be­ing attended with Presents capable of affect­ing a self-interessed Person, as was the Grand-Vizier, had all the Success intended. Cady Bashaw motion'd the Business to the Sultan, at that time Bajazet the Second, and made him resolve not onely to drive Bandini out of his Empire, but likewise to deliver him up to the Florentines.

It was said, That what made him proceed in this manner, was to acquire Reputation among Strangers, and give them a famous Example of the singular Virtue he valu'd himself upon, which was that of extermi­nating Parricides. They added, That he was willing to lay hold on the Occasion, to shew to all the Earth, how much he honour'd Lorenzo de Medici's Merit, which was al­ready fam'd in the three known Parts of the Universe.

But those who pry'd into the Counsels of the Divan, conceiv'd another Opinion of this Result. They reckon'd, that Bajazet did in this, as in all other weighty Occasions, follow blindly the Sentiments that were sug­gested to him by his Prime Vizier. And that Emperour's Son, Selim the First, seem'd since to confirm this Opinion, when being ask'd, Why he did not wear a long Beard, like his Fa­ther? he said, 'Twas for fear the Bashaws, [Page 136] taking him by it, would lead him where they listed.

There was likewise more Mystery in this Turkish Civility, than appear'd at the first Blush, to those who made Reflexion upon the two Fleets which the Pope had sent the Years foregoing against the Turks. They easily imagin'd, that Bajazet being inform'd of the Secret of Pazzi's Conspiracy, and ha­ving no other Means then to revenge the Affront he had receiv'd, his Fleet not daring to stir out of the Ports where it was, so long as that of the Christians watch'd it); that Bajazet; I say, had deliver'd up Bandini, in hopes, that being put to the Rack, he would depose against the Soveraign Pontiff, and thus render him contemptible to all Christians.

Be it as it will, Bandini was put into Irons, and convey'd to Florence, where he was hang'd at the same Window as Pazzi his Companion, tho' long after. However, the Turks had not the Satisfaction they expected, of seeing the Pope defam'd, because Bandi­ni's Process was kept so secret by the Com­missioners, who sat Judges in the Case, that there is not any Light remaining of it.

After a Period was put to the Executions, and that Lorenzo de Medici was cured of his Wound, he caus'd stately Obsequies to be perform'd for his Brother Giuliano, in the [Page 137]midst whereof there hapned this Adventure. A young Lady, that Giuliano had kept, pre­tended to be his Wife, and declar'd her self with Child by him: Fifty days after was she brought to Bed of a Son, that was mighty like him; and for this Reason perhaps it was, that Lorenzo caus'd him to be Baptis'd by the Name of Giulio de Medici, without explain­ing farther, whether he own'd him for a Ba­stard, or for Legitimate. He was brought up with the Cardinal his Cousin-german, and succeeded him in the Popedom, by the Name of Clement the Seventh.

Then Lorenzo making a particular Refle­xion on the Misfortune that had befall'n him, found it much greater than at first he had imagin'd. He consider'd it as to its Rise; and seeing that those who had drawn up the Platform of the Pazzi's Conspiracy, might employ against him the Power and Autho­rity of the Holy See, he judg'd it became him to make Provision against them before­hand, for fear of being oppress'd. For this Reason it was, that foreseeing what the Ria­rio's would do in process of time, by what they had already done, he wou'd before all things bereave them of the Means of cove­ring their Purposes with the Cloke of Reli­gion, when they levell'd them against him. He conjur'd his Friends, as soon as ever he [Page 138]had avoided the first Fury of the Assassinates, to take a peculiar Care of the Person of the Cardinal-Nephew, and sent them to disen­gage him, before he stirr'd out of the Vestry.

They found the young Spark upon the Foot of the Great Altar, in the posture of a Person expecting Death, and was preparing Christianly to receive it. The Ecclesiasticks, who were little less terrifi'd than the Cardi­nal, had however bethought themselves to sorround him, and to make him a Rampart of their own Bodies. Much ado had they to get him thence, because the People, who fan­ci'd him culpable, already throng'd to tear him piece-meal; and the Magistrates were forc'd to send their own Guards to his Re­scue, and yet would not have been able to have effected it, but by feigning, that their Order was to conduct the Cardinal to the Town-house, there to suffer the same Pu­nishment as the other Conspirators: But they carried him into the same Palace where he had lodg'd since his Arrival at Florence. They so carefully watch'd all its Avenues, that his Eminence and his Domesticks could not suf­fer any Insult, during seven or eight days, which the Florentines past in an horrible agi­tation.

Lorenzo de Medici's Precaution did not end with doing the Cardinal-Nephew important [Page 139]Offices in what regarded his Person; but he likewise sav'd his Reputation, in a Jun­cture when it seem'd impossible to exempt it from Tarnish. He suppress'd all the Charges and Informations that concern'd him and his Brother Riario. He favour'd the Rumour which was spread about, That his young Eminency was wholly ignorant of the Plot. He drew up a kind of Declaration from the Accomplices, authoriz'd by the Council of Eight, who had instructed their Process. In a word, he sent to make him from time to time very humble Excuses, for that he was barr'd of his Liberty, during the Tumult; and went to pay him a Visit, as soon as all was calm and hush again in Florence.

As for what regarded the Pope, Lorenzo de Medici writ to his Holiness in Terms alto­gether respectful. He crav'd the Republicks and his own Pardon, for the Discontents the Cardinal-Nephew receiv'd on his account. He justified himself, tho' no body accus'd him. He desir'd, that the Memory of it might be abolish'd, and mention'd not in the Letters either his own Wound, or his Bro­ther's Blood, for fear he might seem to har­bour Resentment. In a word, he courted Riario's Friendship, by a stroke of Politick Prudence, not then in use. He made all the Paces for it, and made them with an Air that [Page 140]shew'd neither Fear nor Distrust. He staid the Orsini's, upon the point of their departing to go and desolate the Principality of Forli. He took upon him to mediate between them a solid Reconciliation. He assur'd him, that the Florentines would no longer concern them­selves in the Conservation of the Petty So­veraigns of Romagna, when the Pope should have a mind to ruine them. And for the utmost Mark of Confidence, he offer'd to go to Rome upon his Holinesses Parole, for the labouring by Word of Mouth to destroy the dangerous Impressions that had been giv'n him to his prejudice, without pretending from him any Boon, or for himself, or for his Friends, in consideration of that Journey.

However, the Pope had not any regard either to Lorenzo's Submission, or to the Ad­dress wherewith he manag'd the Reputation of the Holy See, and the Honour of the Ri­ario's, in so nice and Matter. He onely view'd the Success of the Pazzi's Conspiracy, on the Side that could animate him most against a Person whom Heav'n had so visibly protect­ed, in stead of considering it on the Side most proper to whet his Indignation. He onely suffer'd himself to be transported by the Motions suggested to him by Spite, for having miss'd his Aim; and thenceforward onely hearkned to this Chimerical Reason, [Page 141]namely, That the onely Means to cover the Fault he had committed, was to pursue it to the end. He fanci'd, that his coming to a Reconciliation with Lorenzo, would at least be tacitly owning his having had a Hand in the Conspiracy contriv'd for his Ruine: And that, on the contrary, by declaring War upon him, and attacking him with open Force, he would hide, in some manner, the Foxes Skin under that of the Lion, or fill at least Peoples Minds with so vast an Idea, and so capable of possessing them by a multitude of Events, which the Sword is wont daily to produce, that they would have no lei­sure to think of what had pass'd afore.

Upon this Presupposition, the Pope fol­low'd the Counsel given him by Riario, to levy Troops and not embroil himself a se­cond time in an Enterprise whose Success might prove contrary to his expectation, by Contingencies his Holiness could not foresee; he resolv'd to take his Measures so well, for the Ruine of Lorenzo de Medici, that For­tune, that had so signally declar'd in his be­half, shou'd be constrain'd to abandon him in spite of her teeth. This made the Pope send the shrewdest of his Emissaries, call'd Stefano Noirdi, to the King of Naples. And that he might be dispos'd to practise all his Tricks and Artifices, he had a Cardinal's Cap [Page 142]promis'd him, if he effected his Negotiation. He was given in Charge to represent to this King, That the Honour of his Crown was too far engag'd in the Destruction of the Flo­rentines, to leave them at Peace, since the Conspiracy, wherein the Duke of Calabria his Son had tamper'd, was discover'd; and to suffer that the Lie should rest with him; That this young Prince being arriv'd upon the Frontiers of Tuscany with a brave Army, it ought to be put into Action, tho' it were onely to prevent its ruining its self in Sloth, and becoming contemptible by an ignomin­ous Retreat; That it would have been ex­pedient the Duke of Calabria had not ad­vanc'd so soon; but that Step being made, there was no means of going back; That the Florentines seeing him resolv'd to subdue them, would acquiesce perhaps out of Pru­dence, and submit to the Destiny which then they would look on as inevitable; whereas if he made a Halt, after having menac'd so highly, the Florentines would harbour an insupportable Presumption, and the other Petty Potentates of Italy, after their Exam­ple, would insensibly be accustom'd to de­spise the Crown of Naples, for which they afore had Deferences little different from Subjection.

These Reasons were too feeble to move so [Page 143]old a Prince, and by consequence so near his Death, as was the King of Naples. The Blood that thrill'd in his Veins, was too cold, to be fir'd by so small a matter: And Fame was no longer a Good he minded the hus­banding, since the most Considerable of his Subjects had aspers'd it with such bloody publick Reproaches, that it was no longer possible to repair it. Thus Nardi chang'd his Design, as soon as he had felt his Pulse, and pretending to have receiv'd new Orders from Rome, demanded Audience, and pro­pos'd the Conquest of the State of Florence, on condition it should be atchiev'd with the Arms of the Holy See, and those of Naples, both obeying one and the same General; That this General should be the Duke of Calabria, and that the War should be carri'd on at the Pope's Charge onely; That Riario should be put into possession of Florence as soon as it was taken, but that he should make Oath to the King of Naples, and be bound to hold it of him, as a Fief depending on his Crown.

The King of Naples had no more regard to this second Proposition, than to the for­mer; and Nardi was upon the point of re­turning to Rome, without having made any Progress in his Pursuits, when an unforeseen Accident concluded his Negotiation to his [Page 144]Advantage. The Orsini's, unable to remain in Peace, since they were secur'd of a Re­treat in Tuscany with their Brother-in-Law, took the Field; and without considering ei­ther the Prohibitions of stirring under any Lure whatever, which they had had from the Pope, or the Protection granted them, and the Stem of Colonna, by the King of Naples, had laid waste all the Territories of that House. Their Boldness was augment­ed by the little Resistance they had met with in their Design, and by the great num­ber of Adventurers flocking from all Parts, to re-inforce their Troops. They had taken the Castles by main might, and reduc'd the Fortresses to Capitulate, without excepting that of Palliano. The Colonnesi being sur­pris'd all they could do was to retire to Na­ples, their wonted Asyle, where their Inte­rests engag'd them to become Sollicitors of the Pope's Affairs with the King: For, as they foresaw, that it would be impossible for them to recover their Places, at least without procuring such a Diversion on the Side of Tuscany, as should constrain the Orsi­ni's to go to the Succour of their Brother-in-Law, they concerted their Measures with Nardi, set a going in his favour all their In­trigues; they wrought the Duke of Calabria to write to his Father, in Terms which pro­mis'd [Page 145]that the Reduction of Florence should cost but some few days Siege, and that they would oblige themselves to bring thither their Friends as soon as they had recover'd their Lands; and thus reduc'd the King of Naples to serve as an Implement to the Pope's Revenge, and the Riario's Ambition.

The End of the Second Book.

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS. The Third Book.

COmmissioner Nardi had no sooner adjusted with the King of Naples the Conditions I have mention'd, than the Duke of Calabria declar'd War against the Republick of Florence, with the Formalities then in use; that is to say, He sent to defie her by an Herald, in the [Page 148]Name of the Pope, and the King his Father. He prescrib'd her the time wherein she should prepare for her Defence, and caus'd the Reasons he had to attack her, to be given her in Writing.

These Reasons were all reduc'd to the Out­rage the Holy See pretended to have receiv'd in the Person of the Cardinal-Nephew. The Constitutions of Popes were alledg'd, and the Privileges granted at divers times to the Sa­cred College. It was maintain'd, That the Ecclesiastick Purple render'd no less Illustri­ous, nor less Inviolable, the Persons invested with it, than the Secular. And they wrest­ed from these Principles all that the Quirks of Schools was able to suggest in Passionate Divines, for the blackening the Honour of the Republick of Florence in general, and of Lorenzo de Medici in particular.

They urg'd, That the Pazzi's Conspi­racy had been contriv'd onely to oppress the Cardinal-Nephew; That the time of his Journey to Florence was designedly chosen; That the extraordinary Honours that had been done him, were onely to Will-i'th'-wisp him the more easily into the Precipice; That they had spar'd him in the Feast of Frejola, for that Giuliano de Medici could not be of the Party; and that his sudden Departure pressing the Accomplices to hasten the Blow, [Page 149]they had made no scruple of attempting it in the Choir of the Great Church, and in presence of the Holy Sacrament; That the Cardinal-Nephew was solely indebted for his Life to the Resolution the Ecclesiasticks had shewn, of exposing their own, that they might preserve his, by putting themselves in a Posture, wherein each made him a Buck­ler of his own Body; That the single Ne­cessity to which the Assassinates saw they were reduc'd of cutting the Throats of so many Persons, before they medled with that they aim'd at, had hindred them from pro­ceeding further; That the Cardinal Nephew was not fetch'd from the Church, till the Ma­gistracy of Florence did not think it seemly to leave him any longer amidst the Slaugh­ter; That he had onely chang'd the Danger, by going out of the Cathedral; That the Guards that attended him, under the Sham of re-encouraging him, had had Order to hinder him from escaping, before they had consulted anew, whether they should attempt again upon his Life; That the Railleries, Upbraidings, Imprecations, he had every mo­ment heard, were as so many Testimonies of it; and, That, finally, tho' the Florentines did determine to suffer him to return to Rome, 'twas not that they had repented of their detestable Project, but onely because [Page 150]those who were less impetuous than others, had made reflexion, that all Europe would take up Arms to revenge this Crime, which would not have had any Example among Christians, if they suffer'd it to be Crown'd with the Death of a Cardinal-Nephew.

The time the Duke of Calabria had given the Florentines, serv'd the Court of Rome to finish the Procedures that were to be us'd, before pronouncing the Interdict. The Car­dinal-Nephew made his Complaint, and the Witnesses were heard. The Florentines were thrice cited, but for Forms sake onely, it being pretended, their Crime was too no­torious, to have need of Confrontation. And the Censures were thunder'd our, before the Republick had thoughts of ma­king her Defence. Her State was given up to Spoil, and the Duke of Calabria nam'd Commissioner to execute the Sentence.

Nothing of all this startled Lorenzo de Medici, as having expected it, when the Pope rejected his Excuses. But he had occasi­on for all his Prudence, and his Authority in Florence, and in the other Cities of its Dependency, to dispose the People to suffer the Interdict without murmuring: For this kind of Lightning was so dreaded in all Parts of the Christian World, that the being struck with it, was sufficient to become execrable to [Page 151]all the Faithful. They did not trouble their Noddles with considering whether it was just or no: And Peoples minds were so prepos­sess'd with this Maxim, That the Punishments of Hell were inseparable from the Thunders of the Vatican, for what Couses soever they were darted, that Armies of Sixty thousand good Soldiers had been seen to desert their General in a Night, and whole Nations re­volt against their Soveraigns, by so general a Defection, that he had left him neither Sub­ject nor Domestick.

Thus Lorenzo did not make it his Business to combate the Sentiment of the Vulgar, tho' he wanted not Reasons, and that the Pul­piteers had past their Word to Preach in his favour. He took a shorter, and a less be­wilder'd way; and without speaking of the Authority, or of the Justice of the Person who had thrown the Thunder, he endea­vour'd to evade it, by shewing, that it de­parted from a more near, and a less respectu­ous Hand. He rejected all the Fault of the Interdict upon Riario, the Pope's Nephew: And communicating to the Florentines what there was against him in the Informations of the last Attempt, he fully convicted him to have been its Author.

Afterwards he proceeded farther: And ha­ving perceiv'd, that the People began to fer­ment, [Page 152]he discover'd to them all the Particu­larities, which serv'd to shew, that Riario's Design had been principally to usurp the State of Florence. He spoke of the Enterprise of Tiserno, when the Ambition of this Nephew of the Pope had flam'd out the last time; of the Reduction of Spoleto, where he had settled a Garrison capable of inspiring Jea­lousie to its Neighbours; of the Conquest of Forli, without having other Right thanBienscance. Conveniency; and of the pre­tended Purchase of Immola, which he was forc'd to traverse by all manner of ways. From these four Principles, Lorenzo inculcated to the People, That Riario had drawn near Tuscany with no other intent, than to become its Masters. He made them remark, That the Pazzi's had not conspir'd against their Country to become its Tyrants, seeing they had not taken any Precautions necessary for such a Design, and that Riario had not omitted the least; That he had been at the Charges of the Plot, exacted peculiar Engagements from the Persons concern'd in't, administred Oaths to them, given the Principal Orders, and sent his Nephew to Florence to reap the Fruit of it, with which he had flatter'd his Head when he fram'd the Conspiracy. He added, That the said Ria­rio having miss'd his Aim, endeavour'd to [Page 153]effect it by Means, that were not the more lawful, tho' they were the less disguis'd; That possessing, as he did, the Pope's Heart and Ear, it should not be thought strange that he inspir'd him with Thoughts conformable to his detestable Project, or that he abus'd the Authority of the Church; but that he was to be resisted with the same firmness as Vitelli had exerted in Tiferno; and that if such a Petty Soveraign, who had hardly any other Right over his Country, than that which his Predecessors had acquir'd by the Remisness and Desertion of foregoing Popes, had not been wanting to make a brave Defence against the Forces of the Court of Rome, be­fore he truckl'd; or of re-enti [...]ng upon the first Occasion that was offer'd, tho' he had surrender'd the Place upon Capitulation, and had the Money paid him down on the Naib before his Evacuation; the Florentines, with much stronger Reason, ought to fight to the last Gasp, for the Conservation of a Liberty whereof they had been Peaceable Possessors for so many Ages, and which none had ever grutch'd or grappl'd with them for, before Riario.

These Reasons being artificially insinuated among the People, rendred them in a few days capable of the Sentiments which Lo­renzo was willing to inspire into them. They [Page 154]heard, without being ruffl'd, the Denuncia­tions and Monitories of the Court of Rome, and did but rally at the Placarts that were posted up and down, to excite them to Sedi­tion. They prepar'd for War with far less noise, and much more regularity, than when attack'd by Coglione. And as States the most jealous of their Soveraignty, cannot dispense themselves sometimes from ceding it almost entirely to Particular Persons, in such an ex­traordinary difficult Juncture, there was a new Magistrature created in favour of Lo­renzo, which was in nothing different from the Dictatorship of the Ancient Romans. They render'd him the Arbiter of the Life and Death of his Fellow-Citizens. They al­low'd him to put what Garrison he pleas'd into the Towns and Places, and abandon'd to him even the Power which the Republick was wont to reserve to its own Management in such like Occasions, which consisted in augmenting the old, and laying on new Im­positions.

In this Dignity was it that Lorenzo found the Occasions to display the admirable Qua­lities he possess'd for Government, and to put in practise what he had learn'd most re­fin'd upon this Subject. He took the Rud­der in his Hand; but he took it in such manner, as shew'd, that he would restore it [Page 155]again as soon as the Storm was over. What­ever his Independence was on the other Ma­gistrates, he was not wanting to communi­cate to them the most important Affairs, or to cause them to be executed according as they had been resolv'd on by Plurality of Voices. He did not depose so much as one of the Commissioners and Officers he found in Office. He remain'd satisfy'd with instruct­ing and encouraging them to serve usefully their Country. In a word, he onely reserv'd to his own performance the Drudgery and Prickles of Absolute Authority, and left the Roses to those whose Genius was more deli­cious, or less capable of Fatigue.

He deriv'd from this Conduct two great Advantages. The one, That there needed less time to give the subaltern Orders, which were executed with much more diligence and expedition by the ancient Magistrates, than they would have been by newer, through the possession they were in of procuring Obedience. The other was, That Lorenzo not being enforc'd to employ in Common Uses the Choice of his Friends, as he would have been constrain'd by a general Change of Officers, he was at liberty to send them to the Potentates of Italy, who had not yet any Engagement with his Enemies: Which he accordingly so succeeded in that the Re­publicks [Page 156]of Venice and Genoua, the Dukes of Milan and Ʋrbini, the Marquisses of Ferrara and Mantoua, sign'd a Defensive League with the Florentines.

I shall not stand describing the particular Transactions of that War; for besides, as they are not worthy of Remark, I am oblig'd to hint by the Bie, That it is the Business of a Writer of History, and not mine. I shall onely say, That the most considerable. Suc­cours which the Florentines receiv'd, came from Milan; and that their other Allies as­sisted them so feebly, that their Army was never in a state to keep the Field. That of the Duke of Calabria, compos'd of the Ec­clesiastick Troops, and of those of Naples, invaded the Territory of Florence, where they found the Places of Importance too well provided, to be taken by any other means than that of a regular Siege.

Yet it was not his Opinion to lay any at all; for he was so much the less assur'd of Success, as that the Florentines might easily, as soon as they had seen it, draw together the Troops they had dispers'd in all the other Places, and form of them a Body capable of famishing the Besiegers, by retrenching their Victuals, or introducing into the Place be­sieg'd so great Succours, or such notable Re­freshments, as that it would be a madness to [Page 157]continue the Siege. Moreover, the Sum­mer was too near at hand, for the forming an Enterprise, which, according to all the Maxims of the Military Art, must end be­fore the Heats began to be troublesom. And the Pope, who had bound himself to be at all the Charges of the War, had not a Fund to maintain it long, because the Revenues of St. Peter's Patrimony had been diminish'd by the Civil Wars between the Orsini's and Co­lonna's; from whence the Duke of Calabria had reason to foresee, that his Army would infallibly disband, if he engag'd his Soldiers in a long Siege, without having the Means of furnishing to their Subsistence; and that, on the contrary, he might retain them for some Months under his Ensigns, by aban­doning to them the open Country to pillage, and the little Places that were not able to make Defence.

From thence it came, that the War was onely made, properly speaking, upon the Hinds and Bumpkins, and that nought but Burroughs and Castles of Pleasure were forc'd during the Spring. The Summer succeed­ing, caus'd the Troops to return into Quar­ters of Refreshment, and produc'd Events capable of burying the House of Medici un­der the Ruines of its Country, if Lorenzo had not conjur'd down the Tempest, in the very [Page 158]moment it was going to pour down upon Both, by a Hit of Prudence, and consumma­ted Generosity, which had not yet had any Example in Antiquity, and will not perhaps be imitated in future Ages.

That I may be the better understood, ne­cessary it is, that I enquire a little further into Things, tho' it cost me a Digression, and that I insinuate some Revolutions of the Dukedom of Milan, which occasion'd those I mean to handle. Francesco Sforza seis'd on the Dutchy of Milan by an Adventure equally Happy and Capricious. He was the Issue of the Concubinage of the Famous Sforza with a young Maiden of Cotignola, and had addicted himself to the Profession of Arms, wherein he was born. His Father was drown'd in going to succour the Cities of Aquila. The Troops being destitute of that Leader, chose him for their Command­er, tho' he was at that time but Twenty years of age. The Event justify'd their Ele­ction, and young Sforza reliev'd the Place, defeated the Besiegers, won a notable Battel, and through the highest Felicity caus'd Brac­cio to perish, who had been his Father's Ri­val, and mortal Enemy. This Success rooted his Reputation, and retain'd the old Soldiers under his Discipline. He led them to the Service of Milan's last Duke, of the Family [Page 159]of the Visconti's, and oblig'd by long La­bours that Prince, who had no Legitimate Children, to give him his Bastard-Daughter in Marriage. At first he deriv'd no other Advantage from this Match, than of posses­sing a Woman endow'd with all the Graces of her own Sex, and all the Noble Qualities of ours; because his Father-in-Law was of so fickle a Humour, that he made every year a Will, by which he instituted him Heir of Milan, and null'd it as often to make a new one, which left after his Death his Subjects at liberty to chuse a Soveraign, or to change their Government into a Commonwealth.

But at last, the Duke dying at a time he was govern'd by his Daughter, and Sforza being in the same Conjuncture at the Head of an Army, which he commanded for the Duke against the Venetians, he led it on to Milan with so much diligence, that he pre­vented his Competitors, and engag'd the People by this Surprise to own him for their Governour. Afterwards, his Valour made him overcome all those who pretended to dispossess him, while his Wife got him the Hearts of his new Subjects, by her obliging Humour, and the Charms of her Conversa­tion. But dying of a Dropsie, at a time Galeazzo his eldest Son was going into France, to the Succour of Lewis the Eleventh, the [Page 160]News that young Prince receiv'd of his Death in his crossing Auvergne, constrain'd him to turn back immediately, and pass thorow the Territories of the Duke of Savoy in a dis­guis'd Habit. His Mother had caus'd the Milaneses to take the Oath of Allegiance to him: And the first Arms which the Piomon­teses had experienc'd to their loss, had ac­quir'd him so great a Name, that none durst shock him afterwards.

The profound Peace he since enjoy'd, had so far engag'd him in Luxury and Delights, that his Court was become a Seraglio; the Ladies of Quality were persuaded, that the abandoning their Persons to their Prince, was the doing nothing contrary to their Honour. But their Husbands were not of the same Opinion: And there were those among the Gentlemen of the Duke's Train, who on this score entertain'd the Design of assassinating him, namely, Andre Lampoguano, Carlo Vis­conti, and Geronimo Olgiati. Their Pretexts were, That Lampoguano had by Inheritance from his Ancestors a Mannor holding of the Church of Cosmo, whereon the Bishop had entred, and the Duke refus'd to concern himself in the Business. Visconti unable to endure, that the Duke, not content with usurping the Dutchy of Milan over those of his House, had moreover introduc'd Infamy [Page 161]into [...]is Family, by debauching his Sister, and prostituting her afterwards to his Gáni­mede. Olgiati set Brutus for his imitation, at the Sollicitation of Monte his Tutor, animated for that the Duke had had him lash'd and strappado'd, out of revenge for having whipp'd him in his Youth. The Duke was stabb'd in St. Stephen's Church: And his Murderers, in stead of receiving the Applause they expected from the People, were dragg'd to Execution, after Lorenzo de Medici had deliver'd up one of them, who had taken Refuge in the Caverns of the Apennine. A Will was found of the Duke's, which left his eldest Son under the Guardian­ship of his Mother, on condition she should follow the Counsels of Simoneta. But Lu­dovico Sforza's Humour, the Child's Uncle, was too ambitious, to let a long Minority spin out, without endeavouring to gain by it. He at first disputed the Tutelage; and that not succeeding, he durst pretend, nay, and declare to some Persons, That the Dutchy appertain'd to him, as being born when Francesco Sforza his Father was Sove­raign; whereas his Brother Galeazzo popp'd into the World when the same Sforza was as yet in a private Capacity. This came to the Regents Ears, who was advis'd to send away her Brother-in-Law.

He withdrew to Pisa, from whence he form'd in Milan so potent a Faction, that he wrought his Recall in despite of his Sister-in-Law: He expell'd her, instated himself in the Possession of the Guardianship, caus'd Simoneta's Head to be struck off, got the Governour of the Castle to an Interview upon the Draw-bridge, seis'd his Person, had a Gal­lows set up, and a Wax-Candle lighted, with an Oath to have him hang'd, if the Place was not deliver'd up into his Hands, before the Candle was spent. The Garrison being terrified, and touch'd with Compassion, open'd the Gates; and Ludovico Sforza wanting For­ces to maintain his Ground in a Station he had newly possess'd himself of by such vio­lent Courses, recall'd the Milan-Troops which were gone to the Succour of the Flo­rentines.

Lorenzo de Medici was little less concern'd at this Repeal, than if he had been struck with Thunder. He perfectly knew Ludovico Sforza's Genius, and did not doubt but that this Prince had such Designs as would con­trol his giving any Assistance to his Neigh­bours. And as the Republick of Florence could not be without it in this Juncture, it was in the most inevitable and nearest Dan­ger to which it had been expos'd since Loren­zo had medled in the Government.

Her other Allies of Mantoua, Ferrara, and Ʋrbini, were not in a capacity to relieve her. And as they had sent her onely Troops, as thinking her capable of making Head against the Duke of Calabria, it was to be fear'd they would recall them, and make their Accom­modation apart, as soon as they should per­ceive that Ludovico Sforza had set them the Example for so doing. For, in short, if that Prince cocker'd in his Mind the Design of making himself Duke, he was too cunning to attempt it, before he had gain'd at least two of the three Powers of Italy who might traverse it, namely, the Pope by his Cen­sures, the King of Naples by his Authority, and the Venetians by their Neighbourhood. And indeed, as Lorenzo had Emissaries in all the Courts of Italy, he knew that Ludovico Sforza entertain'd a secret Agent to dispose King Ferrand to give him in Marriage the Princess his Daughter, who was to wed the young Duke of Milan when he was come to Age.

Thus Lorenzo had reason to suppose, that the Succours of Milan would infallibly bilk the Florentines in their greatest need; and that if Sforza sent back Soldiers into Tuscany, it should be no longer as an Ally, but in quality of an Enemy, since he would not do it but for the obtaining by that Infidelity the [Page 164]Princess of Naples. However, it was no less indubitable, that the Defection of Sforza was going to open to the Duke of Calabria in few Months the Gates of Florence; for the Citizens of that Town, who had shew'd so much Courage at first, would begin to pant and stagger, as soon as they perceiv'd that the Match was not equal, and would divide themselves into as many Factions as there were Persons of Quality, who wish'd a Change in the State, for the bettering their own Condition. Then there would be no longer any Citizen that would hazard his Life, or contribute to the Charges of the War, and Lorenzo must be reduc'd all alone to support the Burden, from which he was so much the more dissuaded by Prudence, as that he could not do it without ruining himself Root and Branch, if, after having pump'd his Credit, and emptied his Purse by an excessive Expence, after having kept on foot whole Armies out of his own Coffers, he should nevertheless sink, and be involv'd under the Ruines of his Country, his House would have no longer a Fund to furnish to its Recovery from such a Calamity, as it had done in the time of Cosmo the Old, nor a Conveniency of taking Refuge in some San­ctuary, till such time as there was a return of Good-fortune: if he died in the Occasion, [Page 165]he would be accounted rash in the Judgment of Posterity; and if he preserv'd his Life, it would be onely to spin it out, and finish it in Poverty, and to re-unite in his Person the two most notable Adversities which can van­quish the Patience of a Man of Heart, viz. an Infamous Exile, with a Long Beggary.

Whereas, if he us'd the same Policy which so well accommodated his Grandfather, and if, like him, he contented himself with ha­zarding his own Person, without consuming his Estate by a needless Expence; on the one side, no other Inconveniencies could befal him, than those which would be common to him with the other Florentines; and on the other, he would have Ressources for his House, which would be wholly peculiar to it. For, in what part of the World soever it should retire, after having been expell'd Flo­rence, it would there find a Stock to subsist on at ease, and in such an abundance, as would distinguish it from others, and make it be ever consider'd by the Florentines, that were under the same Misfortune, as alone capable of restoring them to their own Country on the first favourable Occasion. If he lost his Life in Banishment, his Wife, being wife and virtuous, would interess the Orsini's to take care of the Children he should leave under Age, in hopes of partaking with [Page 166]them the Administration of so many Riches; and if he surviv'd to the Republick of Flo­rence, he might retire to Venice, and there enjoy the Priviledges of a Noble Venetian, which his Grandfather had acquir'd him, in expectation that one of those Revolutions, which never fail'd hapning from time to time in Florence, should recal him thither with the same Advantages he went thence.

These Considerations inspir'd Lorenzo with the Design of making his Accommodation in time. And tho' it was not impossible for him to conclude a particular Treaty, by which another less scrupulous would have made up his Account, he wisely judg'd, that it would be neither for his Honour, or Surety, to un­hinge his own Interests from off of those of his Country, for two Reasons. The one, That he it was that had drawn on the Tempest, wherewith it was toss'd and agitated; the other, That in whatever Part Fortune should prepare him a Retreat, he would never find there what he had left at home.

Wherefore treat he must, and comprehend the Florentines in the Treaty; but in this consisted the greatest Difficulty, because Lo­renzo's Policy, how pregnant soever in Ex­pedients, did not suggest to him any proba­ble Means of bringing it about: For, in the first place, there was no hopes from an [Page 167]address to the Duke of Calabria, who would not be of a Humour to receive a Pro­position of Peace, because he would look upon it as if it were to ravish from him the Glory of the Conquest of Florence. There was much less likelihood, in the second place, in courting the Pope; for besides that he appear'd too much irritated against the Re­publick of Florence in general, and against Lorenzo de Medici in particular, to receive any Submission on their Part; he was, more­over, too much wedded to the Interest of his Nephews, to frustrate them of a Spoil of which they were almost cock-suree, after having spar'd no Means whatever for the making it fall into their Hands.

In the third place, there seem'd not to be any Remedy on the Side of Naples: For tho' King Ferrand was less prepossess'd with Pas­sion than the Duke of Calabria his Son, and than the Pope; yet he was so closely be­sieg'd by Nardi, to whom the Pope had newly sent a Cardinal's Cap, that there was no room for doubt, but that this Prince would cause all Persons to be clapp'd up, who should come to him on the behalf of the Flo­rentines, under pretence, that they were Peo­ple with whom he was in War. That if they went about to send Deputies to those three Potentates at the same time, besides [Page 168]their exposing themselves to all the In­conveniences I have newly represented, without any prospect of Success, they must hazard the Lives of as many Persons of Qua­lity, as there should be appointed to this Commission; and the Republick of Florence would render it self ridiculous, by a Depu­tation which would onely serve to give its Enemies solemn Marks of its Pusilanimity.

Of so many Mischiefs that offer'd them­selves to Lorenzo's Imagination, he chose the least; which was to go himself and negotiate with the King of Naples: For tho' he was assur'd (as I have already said) of concluding nought, yet there was some glimmering of Hope, that the Surprise that Prince might be in at such a Sight, would hinder him from treating him at the first blush with the same Severity which he would have us'd tow'rds a bare Deputy; and that afterwards it would not peradventure be impossible to slacken and mollifie him, if he gave him Audience. Be­sides, Lorenzo had a tolerable good Opinion of his own Fortune, as well as Caesar; he knew, that Chance does commonly produce the most remarkable Events from weak Be­ginnings: he knew the Genius of King Fer­rand to be an Enemy of War, and suscepti­ble of all the Proposals of Peace that turn'd to his Advantage. He had been fully in­form'd [Page 169]of the Address which Nardi had us'd to wrest the Inclinations of this Prince, by making him enter into an odious Confedera­tion with the Pope; and by consequence, did not despond of breaking it, provided he had the Opportunity of representing to him by Word of Mouth the Infamy of it, and of ma­king him observe, That he had been paum'd upon when he was promis'd to be made Ruling Lord of Florence, since the thing could not be effected according to the Terms it had been propos'd.

Upon this Proposition, Lorenzo de Medici, through a Result of Heroick Prudence, re­solv'd to go throw himself into his Enemies Arms, after having concluded a Suspension of Arms for two Months with the Duke of Calabria. As he had conceiv'd this design with­out the Participation of his Friends, he made not any of them his least Confident in the Matter. He gave secret Orders for the se­curing what he had most Precious. He caus'd two Gallies to ride ready in the least-fre­quented Port there was upon the Coast of Tuscany; and casting his Eyes upon all the Florentine Gentlemen he had reason to mis­trust, he found out the Means to hinder them from stirring during his absence. He invited their Children to a Match of Hunt­ing, that way-wards where he was to Em­barque; [Page 170]and the Invitation he made them was so much the more attracting, as that there were no parts of that Country unpro­vided with a World of Stags and Wild Boars. Not a Man of them fail'd the Assignation; for there was no Danger to be fear'd, (the Duke of Calabria's Troops being too far off, and there being no coming for them to the Place of Hunting, without passing upon the Lands of the Republicks of Sienna and of Lucca, which was never practis'd in the Mi­litary Discipline then in use.)

The Chace was good and diverting. And Lorenzo, after having conducted insensibly this young Nobless to the two Gallies, told them, with an Air wherein there was not the least glimpse of Affectation, That he was going to take a Voyage for a few days to Naples, upon Affairs of the Republick. These young Persons seeing him alone, and without Train, fancy'd there would be incivility in suffering him to depart in that manner, and offer'd to accompany him, without asking him time to inform their Parents, because they saw themselves too much press'd, and that they moreover fansy'd he would not have led them so far, without the Permission of their Relations, who had not hinted it to them, that so the Voyage might be kept the more secret.

Thus Lorenzo de Medici had without any Caballing, and without Violence, the Hosta­ges he wish'd for, and was at liberty to ap­ply his Mind wholly to what he was going about, because he had now no need to fear any Commotions in his absence. Nevertheless, he oblig'd his new Squadron to write to Flo­rence, afore he set Sail. And he himself wrote to the Magistrates a pretty long Letter, whose Abridgment it is here of importance to set down. At first he ask'd their Pardon for two things: The one, For having underta­ken, without their Participation, a Business of that Consequence he was going to ne­gotiate. The other, Of departing Flo­rence without their leave. He alledg'd but one and the same Excuse for these two Faults, namely, That the Affair in hand was so nice, that it could not, nor ought not to be ap­prov'd of, but by the Success. Then he ex­pos'd, in Terms altogether tender, That he had not been able any longer to endure, that his Country should be in danger in his Con­sideration: And as he ow'd it all, he likewise hazarded his all for its Deliverance: That he was going directly to Naples, with design to undeceive King Ferrand, and make him see in­to the Injustice of the League wherein the Riario's had engag'd him: That he could not doubt, but that this Prince was his parti­cular [Page 172]Enemy; but that, notwithstanding, he did not despair of making him condescend to supportable Conditions: That if he effe­cted this, he should have the Glory of ex­empting his Country from the Incommodi­ties of the War; and if God did not in this Point second his just Intentions, his Impri­sonment or his Death would discharge him from the Envy that was born him at Flo­rence, and Posterity at least would do him the Justice of putting him in the number of those who had sacrific'd themselves volunta­rily for their Country.

This Letter being brought to Florence, had the same effect in all Peoples Minds, tho' all People were not enclin'd alike. In regard of Lorenzo de Medici, his Enemies no longer doubted of his Loss; and his Friends believ'd it so certain, that they began to take their Measures for the establishing themselves elsewhere. But while the one and other reason'd after their own mode upon this Transaction, the two Gallies arriv'd at Naples. And Lorenzo de Medici signify'd to King Ferrand, That he was come to have the Ho­nour of paying his Respects to his Majesty, and discoursing him upon some Affairs, that could not be negotiated by an Interposer.

Lorenzo's Arrival could not be so secret, but that the News of it was spread all over [Page 173]the Town, before the Person dispatch'd to the King could pay his Majesty the Civili­ties he had in Charge. Insomuch that the Riario's Deputy, who was a Florentine by Nation, but otherwise Lorenzo's irreconcile­able Enemy, and call'd Ressalli, had the lei­sure to go to the Palace, and be present with the King, when the Gentleman was intro­duc'd. He had likewise the satisfaction to hear, that not onely the King gave him no favourable Answer, but did not so much as say to him any thing positive, whereon he had reason to take Confidence. He was so much the more spirited to represent to this Prince, as soon as the Gentleman was gone, That since Fortune had now popp'd into his Hands the Means to terminate in a moment the War of Tuscany, to his Glory, and the Advantage of his Allies, without running any hazard, there was no question but that he would use them with all the Prudence natu­ral to him: That if Lorenzo pretended to be come upon the Faith of the Truce then grant­ed by the Duke of Calabria, he would learn, to his cost, that that Truce onely regarded Tuscany, or at most the neighbouring Coun­tries, that lay expos'd to the Inconveniences of the War; but not the City of Naples, which was an hundred Leagues distant thence: That tho' all the Dominions of [Page 174]King Ferrand had been comprehended there­in, (which was not however done in any of the Articles) Lorenzo had incapacitated himself for enjoying the Benefit of it, by neglecting a Formality, so universally receiv'd in all the Countries of the Earth, that there was reason to maintain, that it appertain'd to the Right of Nations: That this Formality consisted in making known to Soveraigns the Desire a Person has of see­ing or crossing their Dominions, or demand­ing their Passport before the Journey be un­dertaken; and that as Lorenzo could not be ignorant of this, he ought to be treated as Culpable, for having violated it: That no­thing more was there to do, than two things, in his regard; the one, to rid his Person out of the World; and the other, to seise it: That the former would be the shortest, and safest; but, that if his Majesty could not so soon resolve upon that, his Allies hoped from his Prudence and Equity, that he would give his Orders incontinently for the per­forming the second.

The King of Naples made no precise An­swer to Ressalli: He onely gave him to un­derstand, That this Adventure was so sur­prising, that it well merited to be examin'd with more leisure. And indeed, hardly ever was Prince seen more puzzl'd than King Fer­rand, [Page 175]when he fell to deliberate in himself upon the manner he should receive Lorenzo de Medici. The Cruelty he was naturally prone to, persuaded him to use Violence: And the fair Pretence he had to execute it, egg'd him on the more to gratifie this In­clination. Moreover, he look'd on the So­veraignty of Florence as a Fief which would hold of his Crown, as soon as Lorenzo de Me­dici should be no more; and the Life of a Private Man did not seem to him sufficiently considerable, to ballance such an Advantage. He was engag'd in a War, that might be ter­minated with one Blow. He had promis'd the Pope to put his Nephew in possession of Florence. He knew the violent Humour of that Pontiff. He foresaw, that he would ne­ver pardon him, if he let so fair an Occasion escape of satisfying his Ambition and Re­venge: And the History of three or four Ages had taught him, that the Popes had taken away and giv'n the Crown of Naples, almost as often as the Will or the Caprice had whirl'd them so to do.

On the other side, the Right of Nations, and good Faith, on which Lorenzo was come, seem'd to be two sufficient Reasons to dis­suade his Detention, to whomsoever should have an abhorrence to notorious Crimes. And as the Genius of King Ferrand was suf­ficiently [Page 176]irresolv'd, he felt in his Soul an ex­traordinary agitation, when he was to come to a Determination. However, it is not doubted, but that he had at length chosen the unjust Course, if Curiosity had not justl'd in to the Succour of what Virtue he had left, to hinder him from violating the Right of Hospitality. He remembers, that Lorenzo de Medici was bruited the Worthiest Man in Europe. He remembers the Wonders that were blaz'd of him abroad; and comparing them with the Generous Resolution that had conducted him to Naples, he had a grudging to see this Heroe, who was both the great­est Polititian, and the gallantest Man living. He was confirm'd in the Design, by the faci­lity of gratifying this Desire of his, without its being in the least known. He had Lo­renzo whisper'd, That they might confer to­gether, provided their Interview was per­form'd without any Witnesses. Lorenzo not caring in what manner he saw the King, so he had but time to discourse him, joyfully receiv'd the Proposal that was made him, nay, and suggested the Means of having it effected according to his Majesty's Mind, by offering to be conducted alone, as soon as it was Night, to any Place appointed him.

Thus was the Interview had in the King's Closet, where Lorenzo having insinuated in­to [Page 177]to the Monarch's good Opinion, by all the ways that Decency allow'd of, discours'd him upon the Subject of his Voyage, and made him see into the real cause of the Tuscan War, which so much care had been taken to conceal and masquerade, so as that it might not fall within his ken. He justify'd him­self fully upon all which the Riario's had laid to his Charge; and perceiving the King took some delight in what he related to him, he stagger'd him quite, by declaring to him. That he needed to bring no other Proof of his Innocence, than the Resolution he had taken, of coming himself to acquaint his Majesty with the true State of the Case. He added, That he demanded no other Arti­cles of Peace, than those his Majesty should judge reasonable; and that the Florentines would receive, without murmuring, the Law he should vouchsafe to give them, after ha­ving had the Honour of informing him of the Quarrel, wherein they were engag'd, maugre their Endeavours and Inclinations for Peace.

As the King of Naples was naturally vain, and that Fortune had never afforded him the Occasions of satisfying the Inclination he had for false Glory, tho' he had already Raign'd above Thirty years, he swallow'd with avidity that now offer'd, of becoming [Page 178]Arbiter of the Florentines Destiny, and footh'd his Fancy with the Pleasure he should have in giving the Citizens of Naples a Spe­ctacle approaching that of the Romans, when Tiridates, the King of Parthia's Bro­ther, came to demand Peace of Nero, for Armenia. In this thought, he sweetned in­sensibly, and abated of his Tartness, even to the letting Lorenzo know, That if he sent to inform him of his Arrival by the most considerable Gentlemen that accompany'd him, and to declare to him he was come as a Deputy from the Republick of Florence, to negotiate the Peace, under the Sanction of the Truce; this Overture would furnish him with the Pretext he needed, to give him a Publick Audience, without derogating from the League he had made with the Pope.

Lorenzo accepted this Offer so much the more willingly, as that at his departure from Florence he had provided himself with a suf­ficient Power, and had taken care to bring along with him the Gonfaloniere's onely Son, the fittest Man that could be, to represent the Personage desir'd by the King of Naples. Whereupon he sent him the next day to that Prince, to make him the Compliment agreed on: And the King of Naples took his time to receive him in Ressalli's Presence. The Gonfaloniere's Son, call'd Tomaso Soderini, ac­quitted [Page 179]himself admirably well of his Com­mission, and acquainted the King of Naples, with much Boldness and Confidence, after having paid him the most profound Respects, That the Republick of Florence, in conse­quence of a Suspension of Arms, which she had concluded for two Months with the Duke of Calabria, had rightly judg'd, that this Interval was too short to observe all Formalities necessary for the Conclusion of a Peace; and that to improve these her few so precious Moments to her best advantage, by justling up to the main of the Business, without losing time about the Preliminaries, to Naples she had sent Lorenzo de Medici, the most Considerable of her Subjects, that he might Personally Treat with his Majesty, upon the Presupposition, That the Pope would not fail to approve of what should be concluded on at Naples.

The King of Naples, after having made young Soderini withdraw, ask'd Ressalli what his Thoughts were of the Business. Ressalli made answer, That he persisted in the be­lief, that Lorenzo de Medici ought to be di­spatch'd out of the World, or at least secur'd. But things are no longer in the same State (reply'd the King); for we thought yesterday he came of his own motion, and as a Private Person; and now we are inform'd he comes in [Page 180]the Name of the Commonwealth of Florence, and has the Character of Ambassador Extraor­dinary. But tho' it were so (reply'd Ressalli hastily) your Majesty may pretend Ignorance, till such time as the Florentines have inform'd you of it by the Ways in use among Soveraign Powers, in matter of Deputation; and in the mean while, you will have sufficient ground to act against Lorenzo de Medici, tho' it were onely to punish him for having neglected these For­malities. The King of Naples rejoyn'd, When I have practis'd this subtle Prank and Cavil, it will not skreen my Honour from Reproach, in having violated the Right of Nations, in so signal a Conjuncture. Then he fell to making a long Exaggeration of Lorenzo's Merit, and concluded it with letting Ressalli know, That if he fail'd making a favourable Re­ception to Lorenzo's Dignity, that alone would be sufficient to render his Reign odi­ous to Posterity.

These last Words utterly discompos'd and nonplus'd Ressalli's Violence. He manifestly saw the King of Naples fully set upon giving Lorenzo Audience, and was not ignorant of the Consequences. Nevertheless, as there was no possibility of preventing it, at least without running the hazard of a Rupture with the King, from which he was fore­warn'd by Riario above all things. More­over, [Page 181]if the King of Naples was resolv'd to discourse him, the more advantageous was it to the Pope and his Nephew, that it were done with their Participation, and in their Deputy's Presence, than if it was perform'd without their Privity; because that in the first Case they might find occasion, perhaps, to prevent its taking effect: And that if it succeeded maugre these Endeavours, they would be still in a capacity to husband their Interests: Whereas, in the second Case, the Odds was too great against them, and their whole Stake in danger of being lost, without hopes of Retrieve, since the King of Naples, after having treated with Lorenzo, needed onely to send word to the Duke of Calabria to lead back into his own Dominions the Army that acted in Tuscany: For, as that Army depended almost on three Regiments of Infantry, the Florentines would enjoy Peace nevertheless, with almost as much Tranquillity, as if they had treated with the Pope, whose Weakness would be then ob­vious to all the World, and tarnish'd with the utmost Affront.

This mov'd Ressalli to give the Neapolitan King to understand, That if his Majesty thought convenient to grant Lorenzo Audi­ence, the Pope his Master hoped he would have the Goodness not to do any thing pre­judicial [Page 182]to their Union. The King of Naples reply'd, That he would neither see Lorenzo, nor speak to him, but in the Presence of his Holinesse's Minister, that he might have an irreproachable Evidence to vouch for the sin­cerity of his Intentions. Lorenzo's first Au­dience pass'd almost wholly in Civilities on both sides. He appear'd as Ambassador Ex­traordinary from the Republick of Florence, and said, That his Superiours had sent him modestly to bewail the Misfortune they had had, of incurring the Pope's Indignation, without being guilty of any thing to chal­lenge it; That for overplus of Ill Fortune, they had seen the Arms of Naples joyn with those of the Church, to lay desolate their Territory; but that these Acts of Hostility had diminish'd nothing of the ancient Confi­dence which the Commonwealth of Florence had ever had in his Majesty's Justice, because she had suppos'd, that so wise a Prince must necessarily have been prepossess'd to her Pre­judice, to treat her as an Enemy without any Lawful Cause; That it was in order to the destroying so dangerous an Opinion, that he was sent to implore Peace of his Ma­jesty, and to declare to him, That the Floren­tines were so persuaded of their not having offended him in any manner, that they would submit to all he should please to decree, and [Page 183]humbly to beseech him to be their Mediator with the Pope.

The King of Naples answer'd sparkishly, That the Commonwealth of Florence had found the Secret to make his Sword fall out of his Hand, if he himself had been onely Interessed in the Tuscan War. But, as the Pope was a Party, he could then make no other Return, than that he already gave his Royal Word, to sacrifice to the Good of the Peace all his Pretensions, and all the Charges he had been at, and to employ his Offices with his Holiness, in order to dispose him to an Accommodation.

This favourable Reception was follow'd two days after with a Private Conference between the Neapolitan King and Lorenzo de Medici, wherein Lorenzo fell immediately to the Business, and unvail'd to this Monarch the true Causes of the War, which the Ria­rio's had so craftily let him see onely in dis­guise. He shew'd him the Informations of Pazzi's Case, and the Memoirs written and sign'd by the Accomplices own Hand. He made appear, that the Conspiracy had been hatch'd at Rome, with Design to mount Ria­rio to the Soveraignty of Florence. He mo­destly insinuated, That the Care he had ta­ken to manage the Soveraign Pontiff's Re­putation, that of the Cardinal-Nephew, and [Page 184]Prince Furli, in the time they themselves pro­stituted it by the basest of all Crimes, had drawn the Devastations executed upon the Territory of Florence: But that he hop'd his Majesty would cause them to cease, after he was inform'd of the Truth from his own Eyes. Then he represented to him, in a Di­scourse that was beyond contest, That since Italy was divided into so many different So­veraignties, 'twas impossible to change any one of them, without hazarding the All it made a Part of: That this Harmony depend­ed no less of the smallest Powers, than of the greatest, because none of them was then so weak, but whose Aggrandizement it was necessary to obstruct: That those whose States were more Considerable, for their Riches, or Extent, had more Interests than the rest to maintain the Counterpoise; since by shock­ing it, they would lose much Advantage: That his Majesty and the Duke of Milan were of that number; but that the Duke of Milan was not so much concern'd in this Affair: for tho' the Pope had seis'd on Tusca­ny, he would still have a Refuge left in the Empire, whose Feudatory he was: Where­as if the Realm of Naples was menac'd, after the Republick of Florence her being subdu'd, he would be destitute of all Means of Reco­very, since that Kingdom must depend on [Page 185]the same Power which would endeavour its Oppression, and none would be concern'd, or interpose in its Protection: That his Majesty must needs know, that the Intention of the Popes had ever been to reunite to their De­mesn the Crown of Naples and Sicily: That Sixtus the Fourth was not of a Humour to neglect pouching the first Occasion offer'd, since his Paces did sufficiently evince, that he was at watch for such an Opportunity: That the Alliance of the Riario's was onely a Trap; and the Promise of holding the State of Florence in Fief of the Crown of Naples. onely an Illusion; since there was no Surety given to keep tack, when the Prince of Forli had once got Possession. And in­deed there was none mention'd in the Trea­ty of the League; but tho' there had been, the Performance thereof was unfeasible and impossible; because the Prince de Forli ha­ving no Children, when once dead, the Pope then in being would pretend, that the Fief must be reunited to the Ecclesiastick State, and not to the Crown of Naples, and would clutch it with so much the more easiness, as that the Demesn of Florence touch'd on his Lands, and that the Neapolitans could not send Troops thither without his Permission: That, in fine, the Safety of all Italy in gene­ral, and that of his Majesty in particular, [Page 186]consisted in impeding Strangers from getting footing amongst them: But that this their Exclusion was in no wise to be effected by continuing the War against the Florentines; for if the Florentines were pinch'd, they'd not fail to accept the Offers of a Puissant Succour made them by the most Christian King. And besides, well known it was, that they were so enclin'd, that out of despair of preserving their Liberty, they would prefer the French Sway, to whom they were united by Commerce, before that of the Riario's: That in this Case the Kingdom of Naples might assure it self of being first attack'd, because upon it the French had the most an­cient and most legitimate Pretensions.

As all these Reasons were invincible, and that the King of Naples had not made any Reflexion on them when he Confederated with the Pope, they convinc'd him. And Timidity, which was his ruling Passion, ma­king him see nearer at hand the dismal Ob­jects wherewith Lorenzo threatned him, he made no scruple of owning to him the Desire he had to terminate the Tuscan War, and re­quir'd of him but two days time to contrive the Means of bringing it about. Lorenzo, overjoy'd to see so happy a Progress in his Design, return'd to his Lodgings with the same Precautions he came thence, that is to [Page 187]say, without being attended or seen by any, and left the Neapolitan King to consult and ruminate with himself about the Course he was to take; for this old Prince communi­cated nothing of this Affair to his Ministers, so fearful was he of their being gain'd and Pension'd by Riario.

He resolv'd to send for Ressalli, and sound him, whether it were possible to prevail with the Pope to slacken in favour of the Floren­tines. Ressalli at first made some difficulty to tell his Mind; but being press'd at such a rate, as that he was compell'd to speak, or declare by his silence that the Pope was in­exorable, he freed himself out of this per­plexity, by proposing to the King of Naples, That his Majesty would dispatch a Messenger to his Ambassador at Rome, to acquaint the Pope with Lorenzo's Voyage and Proposals, and to know of his Holiness after what man­ner and on what terms he was willing a Ne­gotiation with him should be set on foot. He added, That he would dispatch at the fame time a Courrier to his Holiness, to inform him of what occurr'd at Naples, and require his Directions; and that after he had receiv'd them, he would not fail to communicate them to his Majesty.

The King of Naples accepted this Offer, because it tended to his receiving at the same [Page 188]time a double Illustration of what he had so much a desire to know. But the Pope, who did not curb his Humour in things wherein he believ'd Dissimulation was not absolutely necessary, answer'd the Neapolitan King's Ambassador, and sent Orders to his Nuncio, not to listen to the Florentines, till they talk'd of yielding at Discretion. He utter'd his Mind in this manner with so much the less scruple, in that he did not as then the least imagine that the King of Naples was capable of leaving him in the lurch; and that being much better inform'd than that Prince, of the Extremity the Florentines were re­duc [...]d to, he foresaw, that there needed one­ly two or three Weeks delay, to oblige them to crave Mercy.

However, he was mistaken in his Conje­cture; and his Holiness's sturdy Answer ha­ving fully convinc'd the King of Naples of all Lorenzo de Medici had told him, that old Prince could no longer resist the Temptation of abandoning the Pope, and harbour'd no other Thoughts, than of making his Accom­modation apart. Not but that he saw well enough all the Consequences of the thing; but he had such an urging to conclude it, that he found out in the same Instant Reme­dies to the Inconveniencies, furnish'd by his Imagination being craz'd and wounded with [Page 189]Fear. Thus he thought of nothing now, but of hastning his Design; and in the very next Audience he gave Lorenzo, he agreed with him not onely a Treaty of Peace, but likewise an Offensive and Defensive League, for Ten years, between the Crown of Naples and the Commonwealth of Florence.

This so amaz'd the Pope, that he would neither believe what Ressalli wrote to him, nor what was own'd to him by Baron Ros­sano, the Neapolitan Ambassadour at Rome: Nor was he to be undeceiv'd, till the Duke of Calabria had restor'd the Places he had ta­ken from the Florentines, and brought home the Army he commanded into his Father's Dominions. Then, as domineering Passions have this Property common to great Rivers, which overflow with so much the more Rapidity, as that the Banks which held them in were stronger, or the more Care or Arti­fice us'd to withstand them; the Pope fell into such an Indignation, as could not have more dangerous Symptoms. He exclaim'd against his Ally, and against his Enemies, at the same rate with those who mean no longer to keep any measure in their Resent­ments. He was not content with interdict­ing the Florentines, he excommunicated them all in general, and Lorenzo de Medici in par­ticular. He abandon'd their Republick to [Page 190]whoever had a Mind to possess it. He en­deavour'd to whet the Ambition of the Princes of Italy, by proposing to them so rich a Booty; and seeing they were pall'd by the Difficulties of seising it, which seem'd to them invincible, he sollicited Foreign Powers, and fell to minding the Germans of their an­cient Pretensions upon Tuscany.

As to the King of Naples, true it is, he was not excommunicated, nor his Realm interdicted; for there was neither Reason nor Pretext sufficient to come to that Ex­tremity. But bating this, a stop was put to all the Graces the Neapolitans were wont to receive from the Holy See. They were barr'd all hope of any in the future. And as it was known, that the Nobless of the Coun­try were reduc'd to their Obedience to King Ferrand, meerly by the Menaces of being re­trench'd from the Communion of the Church, they were sollicited to revolt, under the Lure of Impunity; and a beginning was made to cavil the Investiture of Naples, which the foregoing Popes had granted to the House of Arragon.

But as the Pope's Humour was nice in matter of Hatred, the Aversion he had for Lorenzo de Medici proceeded from a Motive so much the more difficult to cease, as it was the less known by those who might inter-meddle [Page 191]in the Reconciliation: For tho' this Pontiff had much ado to digest, that Lorenzo had hindred him from exalting his House to the Soveraignty of Tuscany; tho' the same Lorenzo had in hand Matters sufficient to con­vict him of the basest and blackest of Crimes, and had shewn the Originals of them to the King of Naples; tho' he had spirited this Prince from his Alliance, and had made the Troops of the Church receive the most sen­sible Affront, by exposing them to a shameful Retreat, after the Duke of Calabria's Deser­tion: yet all this was not precisely what lay heaviest at the Pope's Heart. He was more ingenious to torment himself, than were his very Enemies; and laying aside the Interest of his Grandeur and Reputation, he could not endure that Lorenzo (after having de­spair'd of saving his Republick by continuing the War) had chose rather to go throw him­self into the Arms of the King of Naples, than into his; and making the due Compa­rison he might well in this Occasion, he pois'd the Holiness of the Head of the Church, and his Quality of Common Father of the Chri­stians, with the King of Naples's Character, who was reckon'd in Europe for the most Cruel, the most Perfidious, and the most Self-interessed of all Princes. He from thence concluded, That Lorenzo de Medici must [Page 192]needs have imagin'd, that this King (as Vici­ous as he was) was still better than his Holi­ness, since he had preferr'd him before him in the nicest Choice that can be made in Ci­vil Life, by confiding in him both his Life and his Fortune. Thus the Pope would have omitted nothing of what he judg'd proper to push on his Resentment, had not the Turks at that time seis'd on the City of Otranto, and put therein Troops they had assembled in Epirus. So sudden an Invasion was more efficacious, than had been all Di­vine and Humane Considerations. It re­united the Princes of Italy; it reconcil'd Lorenzo with the Pope; it caus'd the Cen­sures to be taken off that were fulminated against the Florentines, and the Pope rein­stated them in the Communion of the Church, on condition they would send Fif­teen Gallies to block up the Port of Otranto and maintain them there at their own Char­ges, as long as the Siege should last before that Place.

As it does not appertain to a Writer [...] [...] to dwell upon Sieges, I shall say no [...] thing of this, save that the Infidels ther [...] taught the Christians to make regular Fo [...] ­tifications; and that the Besieged, after ha [...] ­ings shewn more Resolution than the Besie­gers, demanded to capitulate, as soon as they [Page 193]were inform'd of the Death of their Empe­rour Mahomet the Second, as if they had desponded of their Good-fortune under ano­ther Head. The Princes of Italy having no more Common Enemies, fell to sparring with one another: And the Senate of Venice hearing of the Death of Borso da Esté Mar­quis of Ferrara, imagin'd it would be easie for them to seise on his Territory, because Hercule da Esté his Successor was too young, and too voluptuous to support the Fatigues of the War. But as it was hardly possible to give a specious Colour to that Usurpation, without hooking in the Pope, the Senate had him pump'd by their Emissaries, and pro­pos'd to him the sharing that Marquisate with the Republick, after it was conquer'd at their mutual Charges. The Pope em­brac'd the Proposition, because that (well perceiving his Death was near at hand) he would make as much haste as he could to ag­grandize his Nephews. Thus the League was concluded, and the new Marquis attack'd by his two Neighbours, when he onely ex­pected from them Compliments of Condo­lance upon his Father's Death. The first thought he had, while a putting himself in a Defensive Posture, was to have recourse to Lorenzo de Medici, who was become so po­tent in Florence, by the late Service he had [Page 192] [...] [Page 193] [...] [Page 194]render'd his Commonwealth, that he dispos'd of it almost in the same manner as if he were a Despotick Soveraign. The Marquis caus'd an Envoy extraordinary to represent to him the Injustice that was done him, and the dan­gerous Consequences of the War newly de­clar'd against him.

Lorenzo, who had already foreseen those Consequences, was not satisfy'd with assisting him with the Succours of Florence, but more­over wrought him a Counter-League be­tween the King of Naples, the Dukes of Mi­lan and Ʋrbino, and the Republick of Flo­rence, for the Conservation of the Land of Ferrara. Thus, in a little time after, four Armies appear'd in the Field, whose Success was pretty well balanc'd: That of Venice, under Roberto da San Severino, who com­manded it since Coglione's Death, and who nicking the unexpected Death of the Duke d' Ʋrbino, General of the Troops appointed for the Guard of the Dutchy of Ferrara, dis­sipated them without hazarding a general Battel, and came pouring on Victorious to the Gates of Ferrara. But, on the other side, the Duke of Calabria having advanc'd too far into the Ecclesiastick State, with the rest of the Confederated Troops, was de­feated at Velitre, by Roberto Malatesta, Lord of Rimino, General of the Pope's Army. The [Page 195]Principal Lords of Naples were slain or taken Prisoners in this Action: And the Conque­rour was already preparing to march to the Conquest of that Kingdom, when Riario, far from suffering him to have still that Occasion of becoming more Famous and Recommend­able, having resolv'd to dispatch him, three days after the Battel had him poyson'd, of which he died in two hours time. Then Riario was contriving to put into Rimino such Soldiers as in whom he might confide: But Lorenzo de Medici having notice of his Intention by his Spies, caus'd other Troops to slip into it, that secur'd the Place for Malafesta's Heirs.

This Precaution, however, mended little the Affairs of the better Party; for the Ar­my of Venice being become Mistriss of the Campagn, after the Duke of Calabria's De­feat, and the Duke of Ʋrbino's Death, block'd up so closely the City of Ferrara, that Lo­renzo judg'd they would infallibly take it, if he had not recourse to the onely Remedy to save it. This Remedy consisted in cut­ting off the Pope's Alliance with the Veneti­ans: And to accomplish this Design, there was no other way, than to threaten his Ho­liness with a Council. Lorenzo made the Proposal of it to the Emperour, and to the Kings of England and France, who back'd [Page 196]this Overture with so much heat, that the Council necessary to unhinge his Holiness was Conven'd.

The News his Holiness receiv'd of it, startled him no less than if he had already felt the Blow. He remembred the Trouble that another Council, assembled at the same Place, had put one of his Predecessors to; and as he did not expect to be so fortunate as that Pope, in parrying the ill Consequen­ces, and that he saw not the same Dispositi­ons in Peoples Minds that Holiness had met with to divide them, he fansy'd he was go­ing to be depos'd from the Papacy, if he did not suddenly remove the Scandal of the War of Ferrara, and do with a good Grace what was desir'd of him by all the Christian World. From thence it came, that he was not contented with abandoning the Venetian Commonwealth, without alledging any cause for his Desertion; but moreover he let her know it by a Publick Declaration, as consi­derable at least as a Declaration of War. He cited her before his Tribunal, to give an Ac­count of the Acts of Hostility she had com­mitted in the Dutchy of Ferrara, and of the Pretensions she might have upon it. He com­manded her to restore what she had there taken, and command thence her Troops; in default of which, he protested he would go [Page 197]joyn the Confederated Princes, to constrain her to it.

The Senate of Venice shew'd more firm­ness than was expected from a Republick ac­custom'd to venture her self the least she could with Fortune. They did not trifle away their time, with vainly reproaching the Pope with his Breach of Faith, nor with putting him in mind, that he it was that had engag'd them in the Quarrel, which he would now hinder them from deciding. They affected in that respect a kind of Insensibility, which might pass for a just Contempt, and answer'd with a Haughtiness mingl'd with Respect, That not owning any Superiour Power upon Earth, they were not bound to give any one an Account of their Actions, nor to deport themselves at anothers Pleasure, in a War they had thought just when they undertook it.

Thus the Venetians Stubbornness and Ob­stinacy, of necessity drawing after it a long and difficult War, having oblig'd the Princes of Italy to meet at Cremona, so to resolve among themselves what Course was to be taken, Lorenzo de Medici appear'd there in Quality of Ambassador from his Republick, and comported himself in such manner, as finish'd giving to his Reputation the liveliest Lustre of which it was capable; for tho' his [Page 198]past Actions, and principally his Voyage to Naples, had proclaim'd him the greatest Statesman then in Italy, there was, however, some room for doubt, whether he under­stood War so well as Negotiation. And the extreme Care he had ever had to appease Quarrels as soon as they begun, seem'd to up­hold the Conjectures of some Persons, that he had a diffidence of his Military Virtue, and not so good an Opinion of himself, as to think he was capable of executing in the Field, what he had concluded at the Board. But in the Assembly of Cremona he talk'd of War with so much sufficiency and easiness, that the whole Congress went thence per­suaded; that he was no less fit for Arms, than polite Letters; and that he had an admira­ble knack at inspiring vigorous Resolutions, when he judg'd them necessary for the Com­mon Good.

He represented to this Congress, That Italy had not then any more formidable Enemies than the Venetians; That they had alter'd the Design of being wakeful for the Publick Liberty, which they had so happily prose­cuted during so many Ages, into the Reso­lution of subduing it; and that the War of Ferrara was an evident Proof of this Asser­tion: That the Good and Well-meaning might with conveniency suffer them to come [Page 199]out of their Marshes, and take footing on the Terra firma, while they concern'd them­selves no farther than to exterminate the Ty­rants of Padoua, and against the Emperours to protect the Holy See; but that in the present Juncture they could not with Justice approve of their Enterprises, seeing they tended to the Oppression of Italy: That they had almost reduc'd to Extremity the Impor­tant City of Ferrara; and that if they were suffer'd to press it, there would be no means left to hinder them from rendring themselves afterwards Masters of Modena and Reggio: That they would find in those two Cities the Keys of all the Places of Romagna, such Conveniencies would they afford them, for the seising them in the same time they stripp'd the right Owners of the Means of making their Defence; and that after the Conquest of Romagna, the most Potent Prin­ces of Italy would have no longer any League of Communication, and might be easily sub­dued one after the other, by a Republick whose Counsel being Eternal, and ever Uni­form, would still keep her in a posture of nicking the Revolutions which Time and Fortune should introduce among her Neigh­bours.

Lorenzo de Medici's Discourse made all Italy take up Arms against the Venetians, and con­strain'd [Page 200]them quickly to shift the Design of Usurping others Dominions, into that of defending their own. Hercule da Esté, at the Head of a formidable Army, entred the Territory of Brescia and Bergamo, and forc'd (by this Irruption) the Venetians to recall the Troops which had almost reduc'd Ferrara to Extremity. Those Troops dispers'd them­selves after some Skirmishes, wherein they had the disadvantage; and all the Champion of the Terra-firma was so absolutely desert­ed, that not a Venetian Soldier now appear'd, to hinder the Pillage; when the Senate con­triv'd a way to divert the Storm, by which they were upon the point of being wreck'd, by a Device whose Success was answerable to their Expectations.

They had perceiv'd, that Ludovico Sforza, who govern'd then the Dutchy of Milan, in Quality of the Duke his Nephew's Guardian, had engag'd in the League rather for Com­panies sake, than of set Design; because ha­ving whirl'd his Head with usurping the So­veraignty, of which he had onely the Ad­ministration, it was no longer for his Ad­vantage, that the Confederated Princes should weaken the Venetians, for fear they should turn afterwards against him. In this view, they dispatch'd from Venice a sly and experienc'd Senator. He wriggl'd himself [Page 201]into Ludovico's good Opinion, by making him observe, That he unwittingly contribu­ted to the Execution of others Affairs, by ruining his own; and that the Counter-clap of the Mischief he did the Venetians, if he had not a care, would recoil suddenly upon himself; Th [...] he was engag'd in a League which could not but be prejudicial to him, since whoever pounc'd the State of the Terra-firma, would render himself Master of the Land of Milan when he pleas'd; That young Hercule da Esté, to whom that Conquest was design'd, had Ambition; and that when he was become extraordinary Potent, ev'n beyond his Desires and Expectations, he would still drive at more, and endeavour to bring about his Aims; That the true Inte­rest of the Dutchy of Milan was to hinder Italy from changing Masters, because while it continu'd in the same State, that Dutchy would ever be a principal Part of it, and its Masters, by consequence, always the most Consider'd Princes of Italy.

This Ratiocination was so much the more agreeable to Ludovico Sforza, in that it was conformable to his Genius. This Prince, too refin'd in all things, suffer'd his Temper to be cajoll'd with the Vanity of shewing his Power, by obstructing the Accomplishment of an Enterprise so near an issue, as was that [Page 202]of ruining the Venetians, and in drawing from the Brink of the Precipice the most Il­lustrious Republick in the Universe, with­out doing ought else than suspending his Concourse, and forbearing to act in Conjun­ction with those who were going to push on its Downfall. He abandon'd the Confe­derates, without giving them notice. He con­cluded a secret Treaty with the Venetians, without foreseeing, that this same Treaty would be the Cause of his own Ruine, and of that of his Family. He recall'd his Troops from Hercule da Esté's Army, which made up the better part of it, and reduc'd him, by this Desertion, to depart Lombardy, and re­turn into his own State. And thus the War ceas'd, in the same manner as a Fire that is retrench'd of Fewel; and the Pope conceiv'd such a Vexation at it, as augmented the Fe­ver, whereof he died the Tenth of August, 1484.

Lorenzo de Medici, after having endea­vour'd to make know to Ludovico Sforza the Fault he committed, propos'd to the Floren­tines, to employ the Soldiers they had in the Confederated Army, in recovering the City of Serezana, which Fregoso had taken from them, and sold to the Republick of Genoua. The Council of Eight gave their Assent to this Expedition. The Town was besieg'd, [Page 203]and made such a vigorous Defence, as re­quired Lorenzo's appearing at the Siege. His Presence cool'd the Courage of the Inhabi­tants, and of the Garrison: They sent to present him with a Crown of Olive, and the Town submitted to the Laws he thought fitting to impose on it. She open'd to him her Gates, and receiv'd him with the same Serenity, as if she had no cause for Fear and Apprehension. This Testimony of her Con­fidence in him, was not useless to her: And if Lorenzo de Medici did not treat her alto­gether as Innocent, he hinder'd at least her being sentenc'd to a Redemption from Plun­der, and from being robb'd of her Privi­leges.

At his Return from this Expedition, For­tune furnish'd him with the Occasion of re­paying with Usury the King of Naples the good Office he had receiv'd. The City of Aquila was now revolted against this Old Prince, whose too great Severity was ever gravelling him in new Troubles, and had put it self under the Protection of the Holy See. Innocent the Eighth, succeeding Sixtus the Fourth, had granted her this Protection with too much precipitation, and without examining the Consequences it might have. The Neapolitan Nobility, who onely waited for the Pope's Declaration to have a Pretence [Page 204]for Rebellion, took the Field, and causing al [...] the Cities to revolt where they had Autho­rity, reduc'd their King to the necessity o [...] remaining pent up in his Capital City. Ro­berto da San Severino being malecontent, as well as the rest, accepted the Generalship of the Pope's Armies, tho' his Brother of the same Name had been poyson'd in that Post, and spirited away the Troops which the Duke of Calabria was leading from Taranto to his Father's Succour.

So many redoubl'd Misfortunes did so op­press the King of Naples, that he did not so much as think of demanding Succours of Lo­renzo; when Lorenzo, through an excess of Generosity, hazarded so many things to re­scue and disengage him out of so great a Pe­ril. And indeed, without having receiv'd either Letters or Courrier from Naples, he had already put the Orsini's his Allies into the Field, and had giv'n them Money to raise Troops. He had likewise caus'd Sums to be distributed to Prosper and Fabricio, Heads of the House of Colonna, to the very Concurrence stipulated in the secret Treaty, which that House had concluded with the Crown of Naples, for their mutual Defence against the Holy See. And these two Clanns, forgetting for a time their Quarrels, acted in Conjunction, and caus'd part of the Ec­clesiastick [Page 205]State to rise. This forc'd the Pope to recall San Severino, who made notable Progresses in Abrussia. San Severino was not so happy in St. Peter's Patrimony, and be­hav'd himself so sorrily against the Orsini's and the Colonnesi, that the Pope, whose Hu­mour was distrustful, suspected him of Cor­respondence with his Enemies. And this pretended Collusion gave him occasion to fear, that the two Armies (after having spent some time in making semblance of fighting) would joyn, and march against Rome with Ensigns display'd.

His Holinesses Warlike Temper was chill'd of a sudden: He courted Peace with Preci­pitation, as he had with Levity declar'd War; and chose rather to address himself to Lorenzo de Medici, for the negotiating it, than to any other, it being in his Power sooner to conclude it, and without observing the won­ted Formalities.

Thus Lorenzo was the Arbiter of Italy, and perform'd this glorious Commission with so much Address, that he merited the Pope's Amity, without abating the least of the Neapolitan King's Interests: For this Pontiff having on one side acknowledg'd the Fault he had unseasonably committed; and on the other, Lorenzo's Moderation not suffering that the King of Naples should derive [Page 206]any other advantage from the rising and lowring Commotions of the Ecclesiastick State, than that of Conquering what lawfully appertain'd to him; His Holiness was so af­fected with this Heroe's Virtue, that he since rais'd the House of Medici to the Soveraignty we now see it stand possess'd of.

The Pope had been marry'd in his Youth, and the eldest of his Children, call'd Abe, was to be Head of that Illustrious House, and Heir of that of Malespina, which pos­sess'd two Principalities, and other fair Ter­ritories in Italy. Lorenzo de Medici was de­sir'd to give him in Marriage Margarita his eldest Daughter, and the Nuptials were cele­brated with such Magnificence as held no­thing of a Private Life. Afterwards the Col­lege of Cardinals was assembled to ratifie the Intention the Pope had of making Giovanni de Medici, Lorenzo's youngest Son, Cardinal, tho' he had not yet accomplish'd his Thir­teenth year of age. The thing was diffi­cult, in that since John the Twelfth's Papacy, and the Calamities with which it was attend­ed, all the Soveraign Pontiffs that succeeded him, to the number of above Fifty, had esta­blish'd for inviolable Laws, That thencefor­ward no Person should be admitted into the Sacred College, before his Majority. How­ever, the Suffrages of the Cardinals were so [Page 207]carefully hook'd in, and they were inspir'd with so auspicious a Desire to slacken in fa­vour of the Pope, who had not neglected to sollicit them in private, one after another; and in consideration of Lorenzo de Medici, who had newly freed them from a War, du­ring which all their Revenues had been se­questred; that at length they consented to what was required of them, on Condition it should be by way of Dispensation onely, and without turning to a Consequence.

Hitherto Lorenzo's Virtue had appear'd more Military than Civil, as having found little Exercise save in War. But the profound Tranquillity he had procur'd to his Coun­try, gave him leisure to lay himself wholly open, and expose to view the other part of his Soul, which was no less admirable in Peaceable Functions. He had observ'd, that the Commonwealth of Florence had ever been attack'd on two sides; namely, on that of Sienna, and on that of Mount Apennine. By way of Fortifying the former, he caus'd an Imperial City, call'd Poggio, to be rebuilt, upon an Eminence, and Peopl'd it with the poor Inhabitants of Poggibonzi, whose Hou­ses the Duke of Calabria had burnt, for ha­ving held too long out against his Army. And to cut off Access to the second, he re­pair'd Fierosola, situated upon the High-way [Page 208]of Bologna, and enclos'd it with Walls, flank'd with new Towers, of the famous En­gineer, Mark Anthony de St. Gal's Invention.

But for fear the Quarrels, which often arose among the Neighbours of his Repub­lick, might disturb the Repose it enjoy'd, by reducing it to side sometimes with one, sometimes with the other, he made a League between the Florentines, and the Lords of Perugia, and of Citta di Castella in Bologna, and of Sienna, whereof the two Principal Articles stipulated, in case there fell out any Difference between two of the Confederates, they should be bound to submit it to the Arbitrement of the rest, and comply with the Decision made by Plurality of Voices; and that he of the two that refus'd acqui­escing in the Sentence, should be constrain'd to it by force of Arms, which should be us'd against her, till he had executed it to all in­tents and purposes. This Confederacy, joyn'd to the Authority Lorenzo had acquir'd in those Princes Minds, render'd them so sub­missive to him, that they did thenceforward nothing of moment but by his Counsels, and enjoy'd a profound Tranquillity during his Life.

Some of them there were that endeavour'd to imitate him in the new Order he put the Affairs of his Republick, and study'd him [Page 209](as I may say) in his so improving the Jun­cture, when there was not a Florentine that durst thwart his Intentions, by bestowing on his Friends, in their several turns, the Princi­pal Offices of State, with a just Tempera­ment, and without Men of the highest Quality taking any Umbrage: for tho' such Persons had not any peculiar Engagement with him, provided they were not wanting in Merit, he boggl'd not at employing them in Affairs for keeping up Decorum, and creating Emulation in others.

As for the Florentines, Lorenzo knew, that to obviate their being Mutinous, it was ne­cessary to produce them the Opportunities of gaining, and to procure and exhibit to them from time to time new Subjects of Divertisements. To indulge the former of these two Passions, he devis'd putting a Sum of Money into the Hands of the Overseers, and those having the Superin­tendency of the Publick Provisions, that they might afford them at a cheaper rate. But after he had found by experience, that they were less oblig'd to him for this pri­vate Liberality, and that, in case he continu'd, he should infallibly incur the Suspicion and Hatred of the Nobility, he chang'd his Me­thod, and fell to building a House of Plea­sure at Cajana, where all the Poor of Florence, [Page 210]and Parts adjacent, might for a long time find occasion of getting their Livelihood; while at certain Feasts of the Year he took care to have Horse-racing and Turna­ments, whereat the Youth with emulation shew'd their Agility.

He had likewise Comedies acted, tho' they were not then so regular as afterwards under his Son's Popedom; and when his Factors at Grand Cairo had sent him Wild-Beasts, he made them bait and fight one another be­fore the Florentines, who were so much the more greedy of this Diversion, as that Italy had not had the like Entertainment since the Luxury of the first Caesars.

But as he had a nice Wit in Gallantry, as well as in all other things, he fell to refining the Carnaval Recreations, and rendring them more ingenious, and more capable of being rellish'd by Persons of Honour. For the better understanding of what I am going to say, it is to be suppos'd, that the Factions of the Guelphs and Gibellins, by obliging the Citizens of Florence to rub out Day and Night in Arms, had introduc'd into their Sports a World of Libertine Actions, which savour'd of War; and had at last degenerated into such a Brutality, as that it was honourable to shun them, and scanda­lous to frequent them; for in these Recrea­tions [Page 211]they onely combated for infamous Ob­jects, Feasted onely to be drunk; the Balls were follow'd with Prostitution; and the Theatres expos'd nothing that could be seen by innocent Eyes, or heard by chaste Ears.

However, Lorenzo de Medici undertook to purifie this sort of Festivals; and to accom­plish it the more cunningly, and without being expos'd at first to the Publick Raille­ry, he conferr'd with all the Gallants, and all the Wits of Italy, about the Reformation he intended. After which, he fram'd the Design of representing at the Carnaval Hi­stories of Antiquity, which were becoming all sorts of Persons, and instructed at the same time they diverted. Thus they chose the first time to give the People a Spe­ctacle, whose Representation may be still seen in a Manuscript of the French King's Library, enrich'd with Noble Figures. It was the Combate of Hercules, and of the other Heroes that assisted at the Nuptial of of Pirithous, against the Centaurs. The Paint­ers, the Sculpters, and Architects, shar'd among them the Decoration of the Prospects, and of the Publick Places: the briskest of the Nobility, and of the Citizens, were ex­ercis'd by experienc'd Masters. The Battel was sought with all the Skill and Artifice [Page 212]imaginable, and the Florentines received so much satisfaction in this Entertainment, that Lorenzo thought it convenient to conti­nue it, and took for three Years following the three Triumphs of Petrarch.

His Gallantry was not confin'd to this Amusement; for as Prizes were given in the Principal Cities of Italy for Horse-racing, he caus'd Barbs of a prodigious fleetness to come from Africa, which were dress'd with so much care, that they won the Day at Rome, at Milan, at Naples, at Venice, and in all other Places where the List was open to them. The Prizes they gain'd con­sisted in Plate and Precious Stuffs, which were all employ'd in the Decoration of Al­tars, that the People seeing them, might with pleasure call him to mind by whom they were Dedicated. So many Foresights did he use for improving, even to the least Occasions of preserving, or augmenting, the Love the People bore him.

He did, however, all those things with an Air, as sufficiently shew'd his main drift was in all such Contrivances chiefly to furnish to the Publick Recreations, suffering little of his own time to be couzen'd with these Shews; for his most precious Hours were busied in maintaining Peace in his Country in stifling the Seeds of Civil Wars, which [Page 213]budded from time to time among the Flo­rentines. And as he could not doubt but that this particular Peace depended on that of Italy in general, he establish'd a Sanction among the Princes and Republicks of the Country, which lasted as long as his Life. His Closet became the Rendezvous of all their Deputies. In it, for four Years toge­ther, were terminated all the Bickerings and Differences they had with one another. In it were the Measures taken, they bound themselves voluntarily to keep, and which they never broke. In one of those Politick Conferences it was, Lorenzo chanc'd to sta [...], upon hearing the Marriage of Charles the Eighth of France with the Heiress of Pritta­ny, That Italy would be in great danger, as soon as France came to know its own Strength.

Thus the Fable of the Gaul [...]h Hercules be­ing become a Truth, and there being a Man in the World, who without Power and Cha­racter govern'd at his own Pleasure the Part of Europe the most jealous of its Freedom, the most wary and considerate, and the most difficult to manage. This Miracle equally surpriz'd Nations the nearest and most re­mote from Italy, and Bajazet the Second, Em­perour of the Turks, sent to testifie to Lo­renzo de Medici the Esteem he had for his [Page 214]Virtue, at the same time that Matthias Cor­vin, King of Hungary, render'd him the same Office by a Solemn Embassie.

The famous Cayte-Bey, Souldan of Aegypt, caus'd such Precious and such Magnificent Things to be presented him at Florence, that never Prince had receiv'd the like in the highest Lustre of the Roman Empire; for besides Jewels, Gold, Balm, Benjamin, Per­fumes, and Vestments, there was a Camel-Leopard, so enormous for his Bigness, and so lovely to behold, for the Diversity of his Colours, wherewith his Skin was spotted, that People came from all Parts to view him. The most famous Painters drew him, and the Poets employ'd some Months in the Descri­ption of this Animal; which serv'd in some manner to comfort Lorenzo de Medici for the loss of him when the change of Air and Food had occa [...]sion'd his Death at eight Months end. And indeed, if we had not so many ancient Testimonies of this Crea­ture, he would now be [...] accounted Fab [...]lous, that the Indies being more known, and Ame­rica discover'd, there is not, however, any Relation that speaks of a Camel Leopard of this Kind. In the mean while, Lorenzo's Daughter, who had married the Pope's Son, was brought to Bed of a Male Child, and his Holiness making her a Visit, desir'd her [Page 215]to ask of him some Favour. She comply'd, but not in the manner that was expect­ed; for in stead of speaking of what might pamper the Ambition of a young Woman, the Sympathy and Tenderness she had for her young Brother the Cardinal, induc'd her to desire onely, that he might come and dwell at Rome. The Pope, being no less charm'd with her Virtue, than with her incompara­ble Beauty, dispatch'd a Courrier to Florence, to prevail with Lorenzo to recall his Son the Cardinal from Pisa, where he compleated his Studies, and to send him to the Court of Rome, with a Promise of conferring on him the Privileges of Cardinal-Nephew, and of considering him in that Quality. Lorenzo could have been very well content not to introduce his Son upon so great a Theatre of the World, at so green an Age; however, as he lov'd him too well to deprive him of a Conjuncture so propitious to his Fortune, he allow'd him to take a Journey to Rome; but he caus'd so pompous an Equipage to be pre­par'd for him, that tho' Luxury was suffici­ently great at the Pope's Court, by the means of the Cardinals of Naples and of Milan, where they had matriculated it of late years, nothing near his Magnificence had been seen. Yet this was not what Lorenzo apply'd his Thoughts most to; for he was [Page 216]much more sollicitous of his Son's Education, than his Train. He set about him such Per­sons onely whose Probity was known to him; and the Governours he had in his Youth, were Men consummated in the Stu­dy and Exercise of Politick Prudence.

Lorenzo de Medici did himself contribute to this Instruction, what Experience had taught him; and robbing his Sleep of the Hours he could not spare from Affairs, he wrote a Book after the Example of Tully's Of­fices, for the teaching his Son how to acquit himself like a Man of Quality at the Court of Rome, of all the Duties of Civil Life. He represented the Dignity of Cardinal in all its Extent; he examin'd the Talent re­quisite to maintain it: Withal, admirably well describing the Genius of those who were then honour'd with the Sacred Purple, and of the Principal Persons who made a Fi­gure about his Holiness; he shew'd distinct­ly the Air with which he was to act with each of them in particular.

Now this would be the Place to set down an Extract of that Book; but as it perish'd so absolutely, during Lorenzo's long Exile, that there is not the least Fragment of it re­maining, we know nothing more of it, than what I have newly couch'd. Lorenzo's other Works, in Verse and in Prose, have not had a [...] [Page 217]more propitious Destiny; and we should hardly have known he had been an Author, if the Printed Letters and Manuscripts of his Friends, whereof I mean to speak in the following Book, did not make mention of his Odes, Sonets, Gallant Letters, and a Dialogue of the Nature of Love, divi­ded into Five Parts; and if Paulus Jovias, his Contemporary, had not fil'd his Eulogy among those of the most celebrated Modern Authors.

Hardly had the Cardinal de Medici re­ceiv'd and repaid the Visits of the Sacred College, when he was oblig'd to return to Florence, by Occurrences I am going to de­scribe. His Father, being retir'd to his Country-house at Carrego, to vacate to the Study of Philosophy, with the most Learned of his Friends, perceiv'd a Comet, whose In­fluence was so malign to him, that he was taken with a Fever the same day. On the morrow at Noon (the Weather being alto­gether Serene, and none of the fore-running Signs of Thunder appearing the Lightning fell suddenly upon the Principal Church of Florence, call'd Santa Maria del Frore, with­out causing other Damage, than breaking the Arms of the House of Medici, that were set upon the highest Pinacle. Some moments after; a hideous Noise was heard in the Place [Page 218]where they kept the Wild Beasts for the Peoples Diversion; and they afterwards found, they had all mutiny'd against an ex­traordinary great and furious Lion, so as that their Keepers were not able to hinder them from tearing him piece-meal, and that after this Execution they were of themselves appeas'd.

As the Italians easily puzzle their Heads with Thoughts of the Future, they fail'd not to make Predictions upon these three Prodigies, which were almost all justify'd by the Event. But none, save Savanarola, a Religious of the Order of St. Dominic, carried the Prophecy to its due Extent, by preaching in the most famous Auditory of Florence, That the Italians having fill'd the measure of their Sins, God, who would no longer defer their Punishment, was going to bereave them of the onely, Man that maintain'd their Tranquillity; and that in­continently after his Death, they would worry one another, and be expos'd a Prey to Foreign Nations. Yet however eminent was already Savanarola's Renown, and tho' he employ'd all his Eloquence, the greatest of the latter Ages, to procure Belief, he hardly persuaded any to give credence to his Asser­tions; and those who were most concern'd to appease the Anger of Heaven, lov'd ra­ther [Page 219]to imagine, that this admirable Preach­er threatned them through a prepossession of Spirit disadvantageous to the House of Me­dici, than resolve upon doing Penance.

The End of the Third Book.

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS. The Fourth Book.

NEver was any Disease more trea­cherous than that which seis'd Lo­renzo de Medici, on the very Day the Comet first appear'd. It was in the beginning onely a very slight Fever, and so much the less to be dreaded, in that his Friends thought they knew its Causes. [Page 221]They judg'd it to be excited by an Obstructi­on complain'd of by the Patient, and that this Obstruction could onely be imputed to the Malignity of the Rhewm, of which he suffred ev'ry Moment strange Defluxions: Yet the Fits continuing, tho' not augmenting, Lorenzo's Relations and Adherents sent for Piero Leoni, the most celebrated Physician in Italy, from Spoleto.

That what I am going to relate, may be the better understood, it is necessary to pre­suppose, That this Leoni was the first who since the fall of the Roman Empire had thought of questing after the Medicinal Art in the Ancient Greek Authors; whereas those of his time addicted to that Pro­fession, commonly study'd onely the Writings of Arabian Physicians. He had translated with so much fidelity and eloquence the most considerable Works of Galen, and was become so famous by the Novelty and Im­portance of this Performance, as to be of­fer'd the Principal Professor of Physick's Chair at Padoua, where he had taught with applause during several Years. But his ill Genius pushing him into the Snare wherein most Physicians were then entangled, (I mean) Judicial Astrology, he was become so expert that way, as to be consulted from all Parts of Italy. One day the Fancy took [Page 222]him to calculate his own Nativity. He found he was born under so malign a Constellation, that he must infallibly be drown'd by an un­foreseen Accident. The fear he was in of this falling out accordingly, made him quit Padoua, as being call'd to Venice, whither he could not go but by Water: And that be­sides, by making a long abode at Padoua, he could by no means have dispens'd passing over the Bridge, which he suppos'd would fall under him. He had Estate sufficient to subsist on any where at ease; and if he preferr'd dwelling in his own Country before others, he did it on the account of there be­ing neither Torrent nor River.

Whereupon he return'd to Spoleto, where he remain'd Ten years, without setting Foot over his Threshold. But at length his Re­nown attracted him so great a number of Visits, that Civility pressing him to repay some of them, he grew insensibly wean'd from that hideous Apprehension he had har­bour'd of Waters. He began to pass over the Bridge on Foot, afterwards pass'd in on Horseback. He since ventur'd to Ferry over Rivers: He went by Boat on Brooks. But as Hazard does ever extraordinary things, when Prudence has resolv'd to bring about some surprising Contingencies, it came into Lorenzo's Friends thoughts, to commit to [Page 223] Leoni the Concern of his Cure. They invited him to Carrego, with all the Reasons and Allurements of Honour and Profit, capable of tempting him; and prevail'd with him at last to undertake the Journey, after having been thorowly inform'd there were no Risques for him to run. He came; saw the Sick Man; observ'd all the Symptoms of his Malady with the utmost exactness; joyn'd the Predictions of Judicial Astro­logy, to the Indications of Physick; and from all these things together, unhappily concluded, That there was nothing to be fear'd in the Distemper they had in hand; that there needed not any Remedy; and, that Nature, that would not fail to rouse it self in due time, would have sufficient strength to loosen and disperse the ill Hu­mours which fed the Fever, and to reestablish the Patient in perfect Health. Leoni's Ad­vice was follow'd with the utmost punctu­ality: but they likewise perceiv'd, that Na­ture, in stead of making its Efforts in the Critical Days, grew still weaker and weak­er, and insensibly sunk and dwindl'd. Lu­dovico Sforza, having Spies throughout all Italy, was inform'd how Matters stood. And as he had an Int'rest in Lorenzo de Medici's Life, as thinking him too Pacifick to suffer any Disturbance in the Tutelage of the [Page 224]Dutchy of Milan, tho' he had usurp'd the Station, he sent with all diligence to Car­rego, Lazaro de Plaisanza, the most famous Physician of Lombardy, dwelling then at Pavia. Lazaro visiting the Sick, despair'd, of him at the very first, and plainly declar'd, it was impossible to cure him. He shew'd the Malignity of the Phlegm, which had so seis'd upon the Noble Parts, that Remedies were no longer capable of driving it thence. And, or that the loss of so Great a Person augmented his Indignation, or that he was overjoy'd with having found an Occasion to disparage Leoni, the onely Physician that gave a Jealousie to his Fame, he took delight in demonstrating, by indubitable Proofs, and even by Trials made upon the Patient's Body, that had he been prescrib'd the Com­mon Courses, he would infallibly have reco­ver'd his pristine Vigour.

While the Family of Medici were cursing Leoni's Negligence and Temerity, Lorenzo being inform'd that his End was near at hand, appear'd no more mov'd, than if some indif­ferent News had been brought him; and carry'd his steadiness of Courage to the very last Degree that Philosophy teaches it can go. He comforted his Friends, gave them all the Orders and Directions he judg'd to be ne­cessary after his Death; regulated his Dome­stick [Page 225]Concerns by a Will, which could not be more humble, or judicious; and taking his leave of the World, refus'd seeing any other than Ecclesiastick and Religious Persons. He expir'd in their Arms, after ha­ving giv'n. Tokens of a most Christian Sub­mission, and receiv'd all the Sacraments. There wanted three Months of his having accomplish'd forty three Years, and it was not known any of his House had died so young, of a natural Death, since the time of its being in Eminency. His Death plung'd all those of his Family into a Consternation, the upshot of which was, their falling into a fury.

Piero de Medici his eldest Son, who de­riv'd from his Mother all his Impetuosities and Transports, went out of the Chamber, where, according to Custom, he had clos'd his Father's Eyes, when he perceiv'd Leoni crossing the Court-yard. This Object, offer­ing it self so unseasonably to his sight, re­doubl'd his Rage: He ran after him to stran­gle him; but having sound him near a Well, whose Brink was not very high, he chang'd his Design; and as he was extraordinary ro­bust, he seis'd Leoni about the Waste, and tumbl'd him into the Well.

The Skreams of this poor Old Man, and the Noise he made in falling, oblig'd some [Page 226]Domesticks to run to his Assistance; but the Water had already suffocated all the natural Heat he had remaining: Which verify'd the Prediction by which he had formerly doom'd himself to be drown'd. The Friends of the House of Medici spread abroad the Rumour, That Leoni had been so sensible for the loss of his Reputation, that he fell mad at Car­egio, and threw himself into a Well. But Providence never fails of finding out the Se­cret to manifest Crimes, when it has resolv'd to punish them in Publick. They hinder'd for some time the ill Effect Piero de Medici's Inhumanity would have had in the World, if it had been known. But there was no hindring his losing his Life in the same man­ner he bereft the unfortunate Leoni of his, as I shall make appear in the Sequel of this Work.

Now this would be the Place to finish Lo­renzo de Medici's Pourtraict; but the Grati­fications which the most Christian King con­fers on Men of Learning, at Monsieur Colbert's Recommendation, agreeably invites me to bestow the rest of this Book on the Merit of the onely Personage of the last Century, who since Mecoenas, in a Private Fortune, has render'd his Name Famous by that sort of Magnificence.

I say then, That Lorenzo's predominant [Page 227]Inclination was ever for Learned Men. He nurs'd up these Squab-Virtuoso's in Litera­ture almost from the very Cradle, and de­stin'd them by a rare Fore-knowledge to Sciences and Arts, whereof they would be one day capable, when as they were yet but learning to read. He prevail'd with the Florentines to build them Schools, and gave them Annual Pensions out of his own Estate. He was the just Estimator of true Virtue, in what Place soever it was found. He did not content himself with caressing the Muses, and receiving them commonly at his Table, (as did then the Kings of Hungary and of Naples) but he took the pains to exercise them in all such kinds in which they were best capable of performing, nay, and to spi­rit them by his own Example. Into their own Country did he send the Learned Greeks, who had made their Retreat to him after the taking of Constantinople, that so they might buy up there the Best and most Ancient Manuscripts, that had been pillag'd; and gave them for that purpose such conside­rable Sums, that they brought enow back again to form that famous Library, one part of whose Wrecks is now what is most Cu­rious in that of the French King. I reserve for another Place the History of that Libra­ry, and of the strange Revolutions it suf­fer'd [Page 228]from the time Charles the Eighth ex­pos'd it to Plunder, unto the Regency of Catharine of Medicis, who got, half by Force, half by Cunning, what we have now re­maining of it, out of the Hands of the English; and would never consent, during her Life-time, that those Manuscripts should be mingl'd with those of the King's. I shall onely here set down one Particularity, which I have seen several times; namely, That most of those Manuscripts were bought so dear, that there are those that cost upon the Places a hundred Golden Crowns.

This Library was put into the Palace of Medici, for an Invitation thither of the Learned'st Men of Europe. Provision was made for their daily Reception, and they had the Means afforded them of Studying with their Conveniency. Conferences were held, at which Lorenzo de Medici assisted and spoke in his turn. And there it was he began the Design of making Physical and Astronomical Experiments, which are now continu'd for the Publick Benefit, under the Direction of Prince Leopold de Medici.

They assembl'd on the same Design all the Antick Monuments which could serve to fashion young Painters, Sculptors, and Ar­chitects. All such were invited thither, a [...] were willing to be instructed or perfectiona­ted [Page 229]in those three Arts: They had excellent Masters appointed to train them up. Provi­sion was made for the Maintenance of such as needed it: And Lorenzo's Purse was ever open to whoever lifted himself above what's vulgar. Assist they did at the Scrutinies which the Skilful made of their Works. They were brought to note the Defects of them. In each Piece was shewn them what was wanting to its attaining an ultimate Perfe­ction. And they were much better'd by the Emulation which was carefully nourish'd among them, for the finishing them the sooner. From thence it came, that Michael Angelo improv'd so well in this Illustrious School, that he counterfeited at nineteen years of age an Antick Head, in such man­ner, as that it was impossible to distinguish the Original from the Copy.

This Application of Lorenzo's in his Pa­lace, did not hinder him from contributing with the same vigour to the Studies of the Youth in the Cities subjected to his Repub­lick of Florence. He knew the City of Pisa was disconsolate for the loss of her Liberty: And to divert her from those gloomy thoughts, he persuaded the Florentines to found there an University, which would have become the most flourishing of Italy, had it persever'd in the same Principles [Page 228] [...] [Page 229] [...] [Page 230]it commenc'd. There had he Chairs erect­ed for all sorts of Sciences. Thither had they attracted, by the greatness of the Recompence, the most renown'd Professors of other Universities. There were they maintain'd with Lustre. And to tempt Strangers to come thither in greater num­bers, young Cardinal de Medici went to study in this place the Civil and Canon Law. Lorenzo took ever and anon a Journey thi­ther, to judge of the Progress, and distribute the Prizes to the Students: But he never went, without taking along seven Learned Men, whom he had cull'd out from among others, with them to establish a peculiar Engagement. The first was Johannes Picus de la Mirandola: The second, Angelus Politia­nus: The third, Marsileo Ficino: The fourth, Christofano Laudini: Johannes Lascaris, the fifth: The sixth, Demetrius Calchondilas: And the seventh, Marcellus Trachamontano. Howe­ver, I shall not first speak of them. And lest it be imagin'd, that I mean to prefer them before the other Wits which appear'd, in that most happy Conjuncture, I rank them according to the Order of Times they came acquainted with Lorenzo; and I begin with the famous Leonard, who, for that he was born in the City of Arezzo, upon the Terri­tory of Florence, took upon him the Name [Page 231]of Aretine. He was already very old, when he bestow'd his Cares on Lorenzo de Medici's first Education, and enjoy'd all the Glory acquir'd him by his Sufficiency and long La­bours. He began to be famous at eighteen years of age: And as he had got a Fancy in his Head, to re-introduce in Europe the Stu­dy of the Greek Tongue, which had been neglected since the Inundation of the Barba­rous Nations, and that he had succeeded that way to admiration, he made himself necessa­ry to the Court of Rome, which did not then refrain keeping secret Correspondencies with the Eastern Bishops, tho' separated from their Communion. Thus Aretin was call'd from Florence, where he still studied, and Pope Innocent the Seventh made him his Secreta­ry. And as he was extraordinary parcimo­nious, he scrap'd together in that Employ­ment a Fund sufficient to spend the rest of his Days at ease, and then made an honou­rable Retreat into his Country, where he might have enjoy'd in quiet the Advantages of his Fortune, if the same sparing Humour wherewith he was besieg'd, had not thwart­ed his own Happiness. This Infirmity ren­der'd him almost generally contemptible, and trumpt him up the Aversion of such People as knew not otherwise his Merit. The facetious Artofe compos'd a kind of Novel [Page 232]in imitation of Boccacio, wherein he wittily lash'd and railly'd Aretine, by representing his stroaling, vagabond Humour about hid­den Treasures, spending Day and Night in telling Gold and Silver, and busied with new Contrivances to heap up Pelf. He also drew him pensive and thoughtful upon ex­traordinary Usuries, and so prodigiously thirsty after anothers Good, that all the Wa­ters of Pago and of Pactolus, which God Mammon pour'd into his Mouth, could not quench his Thirst. Lorenzo, however, did not miss of prevailing with him, by sacri­ficing something to his Avidity, to engage him afterwards to labour for the Publick. And by this innocent Stratagem was it, that Aretine fell of himself to translate Aristotle's Problems into Latin with the utmost accu­racy, and wrote very judiciously the Hi­story of his own Country. He liv'd above Fourscore years, dying however soon enough not to receive in his Life time the Affront he had merited by a notorious Larceny. He had met with a new Manuscript of Proco­pius his Gothique History, and imagining there was never another extant, none having been found among the Books sav'd from the Pillage of Constantinople, the Whim took him to burn it, after having printed the Work under his own Name, without fear­ing [Page 233]to pass for an Infamous Plagiary with Posterity. This Changeling, while Aretine liv'd, redounded much to his Honour: But scarce were his Eyes clos'd, than that Chri­stoforo Persona said, he had got another Ma­nuscript of the said Procopius, containing the Wars of the Persians and Vandals, besides those of the Goths, and caus'd them to be printed, with a Preface so injurious to Are­tine's Memory, that his being no longer in a condition to read it, was reckon'd for none of the least of his Good-fortunes. More­over his Heirs were so little careful of the Works he had not yet publish'd, that the better part of them would be still unknown, if the Learned Monsieur de la Mare, Counsel­lor in the Parliament of Burgundy, had not taken the pains to poak them out of the Dust of the most famous Libraries, principally out of that of the most Christian King, and of the Great Duke of Tuscany, and collected them into a Volumn.

The gay, facetious Poggio labour'd at the same time with Aretine on Lorenzo de Medi­ci's Education, and infinitely contributed to dispel what appear'd too gloomy in his In­fancy. He had travell'd throughout all Europe, and most industriously visited the Archives of Monasteries. He was the first that found out Tully's Books which treat of [Page 234] De Finibus & Legibus. Laws, and of the Ends of Good and Evil. He had likewise the good luck to discover Quintilian's Institutions, and his first Nineteen Declama­tions, as he was feretting the Shop of a Ger­man Grocer, just as he was going to tear them, to make Wrappers of for his Commo­dities. And those who know, that this was the onely Copy in the World, will have eter­nal Obligations to Poggio's Memory. Euge­nius the Fourth, and Nicholas the Fifth, made use of him in Quality of Secretary. And this Commission would have gain'd him vast Riches, if he himself, by the following Ad­venture, had not contributed to his own Disgrace. He was naturally Curious, and yet his Conversation extreme diverting, be­cause never Man proceeded sooner or more imperceptibly, from the starched'st, severest Gravity, into the freest Mirth and Gaiety. This Quality, which made him one in all gallant Meetings and Entertainments, would have advanc'd him very high, if he had con­fin'd within any bounds his easie proneness to Drollery. But People began to grow weary of affording him Attention, when they saw him lash out into the most keen and poynant Satyr, and not valuing to lose a Friend, rather than not have the Pleasure of springing a Witticism. One day that [Page 235]they were Criticizing the Briefs, (as was cu­stomary) in a company of Learned Men, Poggio could not endure that they com­mended one drawn up by Giorgiodi Trebi­zond, and this Satyrical Verse started from him: ‘Graeculus esuriens ad Coelum jusseris, ibit.’

George not understanding Raillery, answer'd him immediately with a Cuff or two on the Ear, which were follow'd with so general a Laughter, that Poggio was constrain'd to step aside and leave Rome on the morrow, where he rightly judg'd, there was nothing more for him to do, after such an Affront. Thus he return'd to Florence, where he translated into Latin the Greek History of Diodorus Siculus, and made excellent Tracts on the Infidelity of Princes, on the Capriciousness of Fortune, and the Contagion of Avarice. But as it was fatal to him to detract ever to his Cost, he attack'd Lorenzo Val, of whom it was then said, That Nature had kneaded him all of Choler. And indeed, he answer'd Pog­gio with such fell Scurrilities and Execrati­ons, that he made him quit the Match, to set upon the History of his Country, which he wrote in Latin competently pure, and Giacomo Poggio his Son translated it with [Page 236]much Elegancy into Italian. But this Work was happy neither for the Author, nor the Translator; for they kept so little modera­tion in their commending the Florentines, and decrying their Adversaries, that they could neither be accounted bad Citizens, nor good Historians, as Sannazar twits them by this excellent Epigram.

Dum Patriám laudat, damnat dum Poggius hostem
Nec malus est Civis, nec bonus Historianus.

The Father dy'd a little afore the Pazzi's Conspiracy; and the Son being engag'd among those coop'd up in the Town-house of Florence, in thinking to surprise it, Lo­renzo de Medici in vain endeavour'd to save him from the Rope.

Ambrosio da Camaldoli was the first Religi­ous of his time, who apply'd his Mind to the Study of Polite Letters, He translated the Work of the Hierarchy attributed to St. Denis, with so much eloquence and neat­ness, that none have since come near his Style. But he sped not so well in the Tran­slation of Diogenes Laertius. He was Gene­ral of his Order, and the Popes Eugenius the Fourth, and Nicholas the Fifth, could not entice him from his Solitude, by pro­posing [Page 237]to him the Dignity of Cardinal, as an Attraction to get him to the Court of Rome. He persever'd in his Hermitage unto a pro­found old age, in an healthful Chearfulness, which procur'd him the Visits of the Wor­thy'st Persons in Tuscany; and he it was Lo­renzo de Medici pitch'd on to reconcile Lo­renzo Val with Poggio. He endeavour'd it for a long while, but with so little Success, that they since gave him reason to averr, in a Letter written to the Prince of Mirandola, That he had found them neither Christians, nor Men of Reason.

Antonio da Palermo was born at Bologna, of the Illustrious Family of Beccarelli; but without any Estate. He had Eight hundred Crowns Pension to teach History to the last Duke of Milan of the House of Visconti, from whence he went to Naples, to be King Alfonso's Secretary. He accompany'd that Prince in all his Wars and Voyages, and was Eye-witness of most of the Wonders he re­lates of him, in a Book that has had the Ho­nour to be enrich'd and re-touch'd by Pope Pius the Second. He was very Moderate for the first Sev'nty years of his Life: but at Sev'nty one, a fair Maid of Naples, call'd Marcilla, inspir'd him with Love, and made him think on Marriage. He had by her se­veral Children, and dy'd Ten years after, [Page 238]with so little Pain and Distraction, that a moment before he expir'd, he made his own Epitaph.

Lorenzo Val was the first Roman in whose Head it came to repair the Damage the Bar­barous-Nations had done the Study of the Latin Tongue. He compos'd Books of Elo­cution, which quickned the Roman Youth with a Desire to hunt in the Works of the Ancients for the Purity of Expressions, that had been natural to them. He carefully translated Herodotus and Thucydides, tho' his Fidelity has since been much question'd by Henry Estienno, in those two Works. But he was of so malign a Disposition, that he could not speak of any Man without Detra­ction. He took fire on the least occasion; and when he had once begun to ferment, it was impossible for him to abstain from the bitterest Invectives, or to be brought to a Reconciliation with those he had offended. Thus finding no longer any one to Criticise upon in the Court of Rome, he remov'd to that of Naples, where he got immediately into Credit, by the Offer he made to write the most Illustrious Actions of Naples. He went about it with all his might, but with so lit­tle Success, that his Adversaries had reason to upbraid him, That he had fall'n himself into all the Faults, which he had so often re­prov'd [Page 239]in others. This Disgrace, it's thought, made him banish himself from King Alfonso's Court; and that the anxiety of surviving his Reputation, made him take pet and die, at Fifty years of age. And the Romans could hardly be prevail'd with to suffer him to be bury'd in the Church of Lateran, whereof he was a Canon, for that he had made way for others to doubt of their Pretensions, by writing against the Donation of the Empe­rour Constantine to Pope Sylvester. They would have had more reason to contest him so honourable a Sepulture, on the score of the Scandal and Ill Example he had giv'n in the Commonwealth of Learning, by first publishing whole Books of Invectives and Recriminations.

Fabius Blondus was born at Furli, of the Scum of the People, and earn'd Preferment and a Name, by his Courage, in undertaking to write the huge Decades of the Civil Wars of Italy; whose Memoirs were upon the point of being lost, because there was not a Person willing to apply his Endeavours to so tedious and irksom a Subject. He since compos'd another Piece, of the Revolutions hapning during the Decaydency and Restau­ration of the Roman Empire, with so much satisfaction to Pope Nicolas the Fifth, who set him to work, that he made great Gains by [Page 240]this Atchievement; and it is verily believ'd he would have attain'd to the most eminent Dignities, had he not preferr'd Wedlock to an Ecclesiastick State. He marry'd a Roman Lady of great Quality, by whom he had several Children, who had the Misfortune to become miserably poor; he dy'd at Seventy years old, and was bury'd at the Door of our Lady of Ara Coeli. I have sometimes made enquiry how it comes this Author is so little known, and have found no other Cause, but that he had the misfortune, a hundred years after his Death, that Carolus Sigonius took a fancy to write upon the same Subject: And as he was less entangl'd, and more methodick than Blondus, he ravish'd him of his Reputation with so much excess, that he now serves onely for Parade in Li­braries, tho' otherwise no Man can deny, but that Sigonius is almost all along the Pla­giary of Blondus.

Candidus December went from Vigevano, where he was born, to Milan. He became the best Critick in Europe, in Lorenzo Val's Judgment, who never commended any other Grammarian of his time, save Candi­dus. He was the first Translator of Appi­anus Alexandrinus, which he did not speed in, however skilful in the Greek and Latin Tongues, because he had made use of so faulty [Page 241]a Manuscript, that he had been constrain'd to supply in several Places, upon feeble Con­jectures, what was wanting to the Text. But, in recompence, he wrote the Life of Fi­lippo Visconti Duke of Milan, in a Style so like to that of Suetonius, that none have since been able to come near it, no not Pau­lus-Jovius, tho' he has endeavour'd it in the Life of the Great Sforza, sirnam'd Attendula. True it is, he has ting'd and dash'd it with things so highly shocking Modesty, that it's a wonder, that, this notwithstanding, his Work has been infinitely esteem'd. He dy'd aged Fourscore, and was bury'd near the Li­brary of St. Ambrosio, which had been long under his Care.

It is not without some Confusion, that I speak here of that famous Algionus, tho' he was the Learned'st Venetian of his Age, and that we have Letters of his, written with the utmost politeness, to Lorenzo de Medici. However, those who know him, have not been able to excuse him from two great In­firmities: The one, of getting drunk as of­ten as he found the occasion: And the other, of having depriv'd Posterity of the most ex­cellent of Cicero's Works, of which he had got the Manuscript. This wretched Plagia­ry was under an Obligation of comforting the Proveditor Cornaro, in the Banishment [Page 242]he was doom'd to, for having been routed in making War upon the Turks, tho' the Fault was none of his. Algionus sent him the Book entit'led De fortiter toleranda Exilii fortuna. And as this Tract was wholly compos'd of Sentences sorrily tack'd and jumbl'd toge­ther, and fitted out of Cicero's Book of Glory, yet was it much esteem'd, tho' the Judici­ous easily observ'd it had not any Connexion. Algionus, overjoy'd at the Success of his Work, chang'd the design he had had of cau­sing Cicero's Piece to be printed: And as he knew there was no other Copy of it to be had, he committed it to the Flames, for fear there should be one day found among his Papers Matter for his Conviction. Never­theless, he repented it tow'rds the end of his Life, and made a kind of an attoning Con­fession and Apology at the Head of two Ha­rangues, which he compos'd at Venice, upon the Desolation of Rome by the Lutherians. The Publick is indebted to him for the Ex­actness which Aldus Manucius us'd in the Impression of the best Greek and Latin. Au­thors we now admire; for he was all his Life Corrector of that famous Press.

Never Man became more Learned, with less Health, and more Engagements incom­patible with Study, than Donatus. I speak of him that issu'd from the Illustrious Fa­mily [Page 243]of the Acagholli at Florence. His Life was very short; being almost wholly spent in the most weighty and considerable Em­ployments of the Republick. This notwith­standing, he fail'd not translating Aristotle's Morals much more exactly than those who had gone before him in that sort of Labour, nor of purging them with an admirable Commentary, of ridiculous Interpretations giv'n them by the Ancients, and new So­phists. Wherein he shew'd, That whosoever engages himself in this Labyrinth, without another Guide than the famous Eustachius, cannot avoid going astray. He found like­wise time to translate the Lives of Plutarch's Illustrious Men, being the best Version we have of them in Latin; and to write a Book in Praise of Charles-Main, in acknowledg­ment for that Prince his having built or re­establish'd the City of Florence. He was a Confident of Lorenzo de Medici; and 'twas upon his Request he undertook a Journey into France, to sollicit at that Court Suc­cours for his Country, against Pope Sixtus the Fourth. He dy'd at Milan, ag'd Thirty eight years, and three Months after the Pazzi's Conspiracy.

Franciscus Philelphus of Tolentin was so enamour'd of the Greek Tongue, that he would needs go view the Ruines of Athens, [Page 244]to try if the Air of the Country could in any wise contribute to his Sufficiency. From thence he pass'd thorow Constantinople, where he married Emanuel Chrysolorus his Daughter, meerly for her pronouncing admirably well the ancient and new Greek. This Woman being intriguing, made her Husband known to the Emperour Palaeologus, who sent him in Quality of Ambassador to the Christian Princes, to demand Succours against the Turks, Philelphus his Negotiation was of no benefit to the Emperour, but accru'd to his own advantage; for it brought him ac­quainted over all Europe, and principally at Florence, where Lorenzo engag'd him to tran­slate the Works of Hippocrates, and Xenophon's [...]. He likewise wrote the Life of Francesco Sforza in Heroick Verse, for which he receiv'd Noble Presents. He was at Na­ples when the News came of Constantinople's being taken, and King Alfonso staid him there by his Liberalities. He had also in that Place a Dispute with a Natural Greek, call'd Timotheus, upon the force of a Greek Sylla­ble; and as the Contest was flush'd in good Company, Philelphus adventur'd to say, That he would bett a hundred Crowns, that the Opinion he held was true. Timotheus an­swer'd, he had not wherewith to take up his Wager; but that, to shew, if he had all the [Page 245]Treasures in the World, he would make no difficulty of hazarding them to defend, his Sentiment, he offer'd to stake his fine Beard, the thing which Men of his Coun­try preserve with most fondness. Phi­lelphus took him at his Word; and the hun­dred Crowns being consign'd into a third Hand, the Learned assembl'd in the King's Library, where they consuited the ancient Manuscripts, and found so clearly the poor Timotheus to be under a Mistake, that he gave the Verdict against himself, nay, and offer'd Philelphus a hundred Crowns to redeem his Beard. But this inexorable Conquerour was not to be prevail'd upon or by Entreaties, or by Pity, which any other would have had for poor disconsolate Timotheus: He cut it off, and expos'd it a long while to the view of his Auditors, for a Mark of his Triumph, on the side of his Chair wherein he publick­ly profess'd. As to the rest, never Man of Letters receiv'd more Gratuities from all sorts of Persons, than Philelphus; and yet never Man dy'd poorer. He expir'd at Nine­ty years of age, and all he had being sold, was hardly sufficient for the Charges of his Burial. He left a Son, call'd Marius, a Man of no less Learning than his Father; but he neither inherited his Fame nor his Happi­ness.

Nicolo Perroti came from the same Town of Sassoferrato in Ʋmbria, where the famous Bartolus was born. He first contriv'd put­ting the Rules of Grammar into Verse; that Youth might learn and remember them the more easily. His Tryal of Skill was the Traduction of Polybius, which he so acute­ly well perform'd, as made it question'd, whether it was he that did it, or if he had not found some ancient Translation of the said Polybius, and caus'd it to be printed un­der his own Name. The most Judicious durst not however arraign him of Plagia­rism: They chose rather to produce him at the Court of Rome, which then did Justice to the Merit of all the Learned. Perroti became, after some years. Archbishop of Manfrediana, and Governour of the City of Perrouza, and of the Province of Ʋmbria. Nay, he would have been Cardinal, had he not bubbl'd himself of the Cap, by debar­ring Cardinal Bessarion his Patron from be­ing Pope, through an Adventure I shall here­after relate. He quickly solac'd himself for this Loss, and chearfully spent the rest of his Life in a House of Pleasure he had fitted up to his Fancy, and call'd Fugicura. There did he compile a Commentary upon Martial, Learned and Curious in truth, but a little too Lascivious and too Libertine for an [Page 247]Archbishop; which perchance hinder'd him from publishing it in his Life-time. He dy'd very old; and the Author of his Epitaph had reason to use these Words onely, Here lies the Translator of Polybius: For if the Work is Perroti's, none of all those who have made the Greeks speak Latin, not onely can be compar'd to him, or in any wise come near him.

Platina came to Rome from Cremona, the Place of his Birth, under the Popedom of Ca­lixtus the Third. Cardinal Bessarion provi­ded for his Subsistence, and set him a wri­ting the Popes Lives; whose Style is pure, and Narration ingenious. Paul the Second made him afterwards his Secretary, and wrongfully suspecting him of having be­tray'd him, caus'd him to undergo the Irons, Dungeon, Rack, and other Mischiefs; which he himself relates with a most pathetick Air▪ In reparation of which, Sixtus the Fourth made him Library-keeper of the Vatican, where he compos'd Dialogues of True Good, True Nobility, The Perfect Citizen, and of Honest Pleasure. He dy'd almost without Pain, and left by Will his House of the Qui­rinal to serve for an Academy, and the Co­ronation of Poets. His Epitaph, which he himself made, is but of three Verses, sorrily enough turn'd, and desires no other Favour [Page 248]of Passengers, but that they would not stir his Bones.

Giacomo Cardinal of Pavia was a poor Boy, for his Merit adopted, and made Cardinal-Nephew by Pope Pius the Se­cond. He was employ'd in all the Impor­tent Negotiations of his time; and nothing it wanting to the Letters he has left behind him, but the Politeness and Purity of the Tongue. He pass'd for the most worthy Subject of the Sacred College pretending to the Papacy, when falling ill at Bolcenna, at the persuasion of an ignorant Physician he took a kind of Nellebore call'd Veratro, which suffocated him in a trice.

Domitius Calderi [...] was fetch'd from the Tetritory of Verona, his Native Country, by his Mecoena [...] Cardinal Bessarion. His princi­pal Talent lay in interpreting the most dif­ficult Passages of the Poets, which he ex­plain'd with so much neatness, and by such acute, ingenious Guesses, that never Profes­sor had a more Illustrious Auditory, so throng'd was his with Persons of the First Quality in Italy. This encourag'd him to commit some of his Observations to the Press. But as he was naturally ambitious, and that he affected to bottom his own Repute by disclosing the Ignorance of others, he created so great a number his Enemies, that he would [Page 249]have found it a hard push to answer all the Writings drawn up against him, if he had not been reliev'd by a Fever, which cut him off very young. His Death inspir'd Pity in­to his very Adversaries, and Politianus caus'd stately Verses to be engrav'd upon his Tomb, which serve to evidence, That Envy among Wits does not extend beyond the Grave.

Antonius Campanus his Fortune was no less capricious than his Genius. An unknown Country-Girl was deliver'd of him under a Tree, where she bilkt him. He was found there by a Sexton Priest of the Church, who put the Bantling out to Nurse, through a pure Principle of Charity; for he had more the Form of an Ape, than of a Child. This Priest taught him to read, and put him af­terwards into the Service of a young Gen­tleman going to Study at Naples. Campanus attended his Master to the College, and be­came a Man of such Learning, as at his re­turn he stood for and obtain'd a Publick Pro­fessors Chair at Perruza. This Exercise brought him to the knowledge of Pope Pi­us the Second, who made him Bishop of Ite­rano; and Paul the Second since conferr'd on him other Benefices. But he could not avoid being disgrac'd under Sixtus the Fourth, because that Pope having vow'd the Ruine of the Race of Vitelli, for Reasons I have [Page 250]inserted in the Second Book, thought it needful before all things to rid Campanus out of the way, he having too strict an Engage­ment with this House. And indeed, he sent him into Exile, wherein he dy'd of the Fal­ling Sickness. He left several Works, the most considerable of which would be the Life of the famous Captain Braccio, had he not blended it with so many Fables, that the most knowing in the History of Italy in the Fifteenth Century, can in it hardly di­stinguish Truth from Eiction.

Cardinal Bessarion was a Man so accom­plish'd, that the Sacred Purple had never clad his like. He merited the Cap in the Council of Florence, and wore it so worthi­ly, that he set his Fortune above Envy. He was tall, and of Noble Deportment; his Manners were regulated according to all Christian Severity; his Conversation charm­ing, and Knowledge Universal; his Palace the Sanctuary of the pincht, uneasie Greek and Latin Muses; and at his Table has been seen at once, several times, George de Trebi­sondo, Gaza, Argiropilos, Pleton, Philelphus. Blondus, Aretine, Poggio, Valla, Sipontinus, Campanus, Platina, and Calderin. The Popes Eugenius the Fourth, Nicolas the Fifth, and Pius the Second, declar'd on their Death­beds to the Sacred College, That Bessarion [Page 251]was the most Worthy of being their Suc­cessor; and it's well known, that he would have been Pope after Paul the Second, but for the Imprudence of Nicolo Perroti, the same I have already mention'd, who serv'd him for Conclavist. One Evening, that Bes­sarion was studying, as was his Custom, with­out troubling his Head with the Intrigues of his Colleagues, three Cardinals, the Heads of as many Cabals in the Conclave, having at length agreed for the Election of him, went to his Cell, and ask'd to speak with him. Perroti fancying all their Business was to hedge in the Suffrages of his Patron; and as he knew him well enough to be per­suaded, that these Cardinals Sollicitations would (as to that) be ineffectual, he thought it his Duty not to interrupt Bessari­on's Study. Wherefore he obstinately re­fus'd to introduce them, or to acquaint his Patron of their asking to come to his Speech. And what was most capricious in this Ad­venture, the more Perroti was entreated, press'd, conjur'd, threatn'd, the more stiff and refractory he was to keep the Door shut; all this so much the more confirming him in his Chimerical Presupposition, That they were so earnest for admittance, onely to mump the onely Voice they wanted for him among them they had agreed upon. The [Page 252]Contest lasted so long, that the three Car­dinals Patience being tir'd, they said to one another, A fine Business truly would it be, to exalt a Man to the Holy See, who not onely would not con them any Thanks for his Election, but also make them depend on the Caprice of his Domesticks, when they should have occasion to Discourse him. Then Spite and Indignati­on made them take other Measures; and as Cardinal Riario was the He most flatter'd their Imagination in that instant, they ele­cted him Pope, tho' they had concerted be­fore not to give their Voice to any Religi­ous, and that Riario had been a Cordelier. The Pleasure they expected to reap from Cardinal Bessarion's Regret, for having mist the Papacy through his Conclavist's Fault, set them agog to let him know how the thing had pass'd: But this neither chang'd Bessarion's Countenance or Carriage to them, and he onely told Perroti, That he had hin­dred him from dubbing him Cardinal. The new Pope having a mind to reduce the Pope­dom into a Monarchy, could no longer en­dure sight of a Person he knew to have been so near the Place he held, and merit it much better than his Holiness. He contriv'd, for the getting him out of the way, an honou­rable Sham, which was, to send Bessarion in Quality of Legate into France, where he re­sided [Page 253]a long while, and gave Budoeus the first Tincture of the Greek Tongue; for that Kingdom had not a Man that understood it at that time. In his Return he dy'd in Ra­venna, where the House of Medici caus'd a Mausoleum to be erected him.

George de Trebisonde was one of the Prin­cipal Men of Letters that came from Greece into Italy, after the Revolution of Constanti­nople. He translated the Works of Eusebius of Coesarea, part of those of Aristotle, and the Rhetorick of Hermogenes. He was inde­fatigable in Labour; but besides his having the Mien and Manners of a Pedant, he lost his Fame by the unjust. War he made upon Plato: He had got a Fancy, that the onely way to exalt his own Repute above that of other Learned Men, consisted in defaming that Philosopher: and as he was extraordi­narily virulent in all he went about, he wrote against him such invidious, Satyrical Libels, as render'd himself altogether ridi­culous. He receiv'd likewise the displeasure of seeing, that among the Learned, all those making Profession of Virtue, defended the Doctrine of Plato with the same Zeal, as if it had been (as I may say) the Out-works of the Christian Religion. Cardinal Bessarion of his Mecaenas became his Adversary, and answer'd him with so much Solidity and Elo­quence, [Page 254]as stopp'd his Mouth. He did not desist, however, after this Quarrel, teaching at Rome, where he marry'd; but some years after he had a Fit of Sickness, which made him so universally forget what he had learn'd, that he retain'd not so much as his own Name. He did not recover, with­out becoming again an Infant; and dy'd, af­ter having tir'd out his Children and Dome­sticks for above ten years together, with following him where ever the Fancy put him upon going, for fear of his insulting those he met; for notwithstanding all his Imbeci­lity, he would never endure to be shut up Day or Night.

Theodore Gaza departed very young from the City of Thessalonica, the Place of his Na­tivity, and came into Italy, where he was immediately observ'd to have a Wit prodigi­ously quick and pregnant, He attain'd in a short space the Delicacy of the Latin Tongue, and became so nice, as gave occa­sion to doubt, if he understood it not better than the Greek, tho' it was not question'd but that he admirably well knew the Tongue of his own Country. And indeed, he was the onely Person, of whom People have not hitherto been able to judge which he tran­slated best, Greek into Latin, or Latin into Greek; for, if we on one side examine the [Page 255]Version he made of the Problems of Ari­stotle's History of Animals, of that of Plants of Theophrastus, and of the Aphorisms of Hippocrates, we shall find, that he has not onely express'd the Thoughts and the Cha­racter of those Authors, but has likewise re­tain'd all their Graces, which seem'd as if they could in no wise be divorc'd from their Expressions: And if, on the other side, we consider the Air wherewith he makes Cicero speak Greek, it will be more difficult (with­out comparison) to comprehend the inimita­ble Turn he found the way to give to that Oratour Travesty'd, to make him retain all the Majesty of his Eloquence, without ha­ving enfeebl'd the Beauty of his Sentiments, or the Purity of his Style. Cardinal Bessa­rion had procur'd him a Benefice in the Realm of Naples, on which he might very conveniently have subsisted, if his natural averseness for all sorts of Menial Cares had not oblig'd him to refer them absolutely to his own Country People, who let him almost want all manner of Necessaries. They made him believe, the Lands had been ru­in'd, sometimes by Storms, and sometimes by extraordinary Droughts. Honest Gaza lov'd rather to believe their Lies, than take the pains to inquire into the Truth of their Asseverations. However, he did not leave [Page 256]off working with as much Exactness and Perseverance, as if he had had all his Conve­niencies. And when he had finish'd the Piece he design'd for Pope Sixtus the Fourth, he transcrib'd it himself upon Parchment, (for he painted admirably well) and presented it to his Holiness. But the good Man had made his Address in the wrong place; for the Pope, who had liv'd Fifty years among the Cordeliers, had deprav'd his Taste, by studying the Formalities of Scotus. He re­ceiv'd Gaza's Book with as lowring a Coun­tenance, as if he had offer'd him a Song: He threw it into a Corner of the Room, and calling his Chamberlain, bid him give the Author so mean a Sum, that it was not suf­ficient to pay for the Velome on which th [...] Work was written. Gaza being netled with this Affront, the most sensible a Man of Let­ters can receive, could not forbear reciting aloud the Greek Proverb, which says, That Asses have no taste, save for Coals. But wel [...] was it for him, the Pope did not understand the Tongue; for he would not have allow'd him to have retir'd to his Benefice, where out of vexation, he burnt what he had left of his Work. And it is to be presum'd, that the Pope did the like with the Manuscrip [...] presented him by Gaza; for we have not yet been able to know what it treated of. Gaza [Page 257]liv'd some years longer, ever in indignation against the Muses, as if they should have been Warrantees of Sixtus his dogged hu­mour and moroseness, and dy'd at above fourscore years of Age.

Johannes Argiropolis having been invited from Constantinople, to instruct those of the House of Medici, was in effect Piero's, Lo­rehzo's, and Giuliano's Tutour. Gaza's Friend­ship, which he took care to Cultivate, was an infinite help to his acquiring Reputation when he came to Florence, and still more since to preserve it; for, setting upon tran­slating Aristotle's Books of Physick, Gaza, who had also translated them, and incompa­rably much better than Agiropolis could do, out of a dis-interessedness and modesty, un­exempl'd in the Republick of Letters, sup­press'd his Work, in consideration of his Friends, he well foreseeing that as soon as his own Traduction shou'd come forth, it wou'd darken that of Argiropolis, who nei­ther knew so much Latin as Gaza, nor had so neat, easie, and fluent a gift of Explanati­on, as to unravel Aristotle. Argiropolis took the advantage of Gaza's Generosity, with­out troubling his head about acknowledging it, and thus indulg'd, at anothers Cost, his two ruling inclinations, Ambition and Ava­rice; for he was rank'd among the Wits, [Page 256] [...] [Page 257] [...] [Page 258]and shar'd with them the Liberalities annu­ally bestow'd on them by the Court of Naples, that of Rome, and Lorenzo de Medi­ci: He likewise taught in the publick School of Florence with sufficient Applause, while he respected the Authors in the Latin Tongue. But when he chanc'd to bolt, Ci­cero did not well understand Greek, his Au­ditors eclips'd themselves insensibly, and the Pestilence, breaking out in Tuscany, in that juncture, gave him a pretence to depart Florence with Honour, and retire to Rome, where Cardinal Bessarion procur'd him con­siderable Pentions. There liv'd he accord­ing to his Genius, prone to good Chear, and some excess in Dyet, with which it was ne­ver observ'd that he had lost his Reason, or that he blurted any thing unbeseeming him. Nevertheless, his Stomach was not proof a­gainst Melons, for he died in his seventieth year, by having eat too much of that Fruit: They found among his Papers he had cou­zen'd some of his Moments, by making a Will, in which he bequeath'd to his Friends such considerable Legacies, as if he had pos­sess'd all the Riches of the House of Medici; tho' universally known not to be worth a Penny; this Gallantry only serv'd to Con­vert the Epitaph that was preparing for him into an Epigram.

Marcilus Tarcaniote came from Greece into Italy▪ with a company of Cuirasseers, and mingled all his life long, the Pike with the Pen; the Profession of Arms, with that of Polite Letters. His fondness for the Latin Tongue, made him wed the Daughter of Bartolomeo Scula, who understood and spoke it to an admirable Perfection. She taught it him so accurately, that Lorenzo de Medici found him capable of translating Plutarch's Moral Works, and conjur'd him to do it by Letters still extant. But he had so much averse­ness for that sort of Labour, wherein a Man must (said he) render himself a Slave of ano­thers Sentiments, that it was impossible for him to finish the first Page. He lov'd much rather to compose Epigrams, whereof there is a Collection still remaining, wherein a body may see that it was solely his own fault, he did not do much more. He was drown'd in fording the River of Volterra, swell'd extra­ordinarily by the Rains, on the very day that the unfortunate Lodovico Sforza was con­fin'd to an Eternal Prison.

Demetrius Chalcondile had all the good Qualities of the Greeks, and none of the bad, He was Knowing and Laborious, never wea­ry of Studying or Teaching, sincere, and never boasting. He came very aged to Flo­rence, where he must needs be dabbling in [Page 260]Matrimony. The little disposition he had to meddle in Domestick concerns, induc'd him to leave those Sollicitudes to his Wife; and this freedom, so extraordinary in Tusca­ny, with that Ladies wonderful Fecondity, serv'd for matter to a world of Verses, disad­vantageous to her Modesty. After Argi­ropolis had quit the Greek Chair of Florence, Politian obtain'd it; and as he was an incom­parable Wit, using all the ways of making him successful in his Undertakings, he so well brandish'd his Talent, and so slily coax'd and flatter'd his Auditory, that he wrought an Exclusion to all the Greeks, who offer'd to dispute for it. Chalcondile, tho' very humble, and little minding his own Glory, cou'd not digest the affront that was done those of his Nation. He made his Ad­dresses to Lorenzo de Medici, who had alrea­dy pitch'd upon him to reach his Children the Greek Tongue, and obtained Permission to teach in Concurrence, and at the same time with Politian, to see which of the two wou'd have most Followers. But the harsh accent which Chalcondile cou'd never get rid of, and the difficulty he had to pronounce some Latin words, rendred him Contempti­ble, in comparison of Politian, whose agree­able tone of Voice, and gallant Expressions, ravish'd his whole Audience. Lorenzo con­triving [Page 261]by all means to keep Chalcondile at Florence, was forc'd to procure him Audi­tors, and endeavour'd to oblige Politian to live with him more civilly.

Lorenzo set about several times to reconcile them, but he found by his own experience, that it was more easie to procure Peace to I­taly, than make it between two Virtuoso's. He hindred them however from letting their Resentment break out, during his Life-time, but incontinently after his Death, Chalcondile being without support, sided with Lodovico Sforza, who gave him the principal Chair at Milan, where he committed to the Press his Illustrations upon the Greek Tongue, that have rendred him so famous. There he dy'd, when near a hundred years old, and yet soon enough not to be informed of the shameful death of Theophilus, the Eldest of his Children, kill'd by Night in a bye street of Pavia, where he was Professor.

Marc-Musurus, a Native of Candia, where he had already signaliz'd his parts, by his Criticisme upon the Greek Authors, and by the rare felicity of his Genius, which almost equally accomplish'd all he undertook, when that the Republick of Venice made him remove from his Island to the Terra-firma, and gave him a Chair at Padoua. The num­ber of his Auditors was there so great, that [Page 262]they were forced to enlarge the publick School, and permit Musurus to teach Gram­mar in the morning, and Poetry in the Af­ternoon, to gratifie those who had a mind to hear him unfold those two liberal Arts. He continued to Profess, till the War deserted his Auditory, and compelled him himself to think of his Security. He withdrew to Rome, where he composed that wonderfull Poem in praise of Plato, which is found at the beginning of that Philosophers Works. Those who understood it, and saw him, could (at first) hardly believe Musurus to be the Author. They were rather inclin'd to sus­pect he had found it in an ancient Manuscript, and publisht it in his own Name. Their Diffidence was grounded upon its not being possible for a Man of their time, to compose a piece wherein the Character, and Grace stroaks the Greek Poetry possess'd in Alex­ander's Age, were restor'd in the highest point of their Perfection Musurus help'd on his side to confirm them in this thought, when judging of the Beauty of his Poem, by the Applauses it received from all Parties, he would compile nothing more of that Nature, for fear of diminishing by a feeble piece, or less finish'd, the high Reputation he had at­tain'd unexpectedly, and on a sudden. He contented himself with showing, by ex­plaining [Page 263]to the Romans, the finest passages of Homer, of Hesiod, of Theocritus, and of Anacreon, that he was able to imitate their Quaintness, and Excellencies, since he knew so perfectly their Turn and Delicacy, and by leading so regular a Life, that People came insensibly to cease suspecting him of injustice. He was at this pass when Leo the 10th was Elected Pope, that is to say, when the Golden Age of Polite Letters be­gan. Musurus received of his first Gratifi­cations, and was endow'd with the Archbi­shoprick of Ragusa. But as Dignities expose more in view those by whom they are pos­sess'd, and by consequence their Imperfecti­ons are the better noted; the Mitre only serv'd Musurus, to manifest the Vice he had so long held conceal'd; for as hitherto he had not been accounted Ambitious, and they made this judgment of him, that he had more Repute than he desir'd. But no soon­er was he Archbishop, than that he fell a Ca­balling to be Cardinal. He laid aside his Books, to study intriguing, and had such an ability that way, that the Pope was amaz'd at this Change, twitted him with it, and some times railly'd him. Yet did he not forbear continuing, and took so many new measures with those he saw Favourites at Court, that they Cock-sur'd him of a Cap at the first Promotion. But [Page 264]the Pope delighted in frustrating their pur­poses, for his greater Diversion at Musurus his future behaviour. And indeed, he did not neglect tricking up his House, augmen­ting his Train, nay, and preparing the ac­knowledgment he pretended to make. But the day of Promotion being come, Musurus not finding himself of the number of the one and thirty, added to the Sacred Col­ledge, his Virtue prov'd too weak to digest the Affront he fancy'd he had receiv'd. He complained of it, as of a Contempt done to all the Greek Nation in his Person; and for the carrying his Resentment as far as it could go of the Dropsey he sell sick, and died.

Johannes Lascaris was the most Illustrious of the Grecians, that came into Italy, after the taking of Constantinople; for besides that he reckon'd Emperours in the number of his Ancestors, was he in such repute for Know­ledge and Probity, that the very Insidels had a veneration for his Merit. He took Sanctua­ry with Lorenzo de Medici, who received him with open Armes, and committed to him the care of his Library. As they were one day discouring on the means for its embelishment, a thought came into Lascaris his head, that Bajazet the 2d, Emperour of the Turks, had an inclination for Philosophy, and that having caus'd Averroes his Commen­taries [Page 265]upon Aristotle, to be explained to him, he wou'd not be sorry that the Peripe­teticks were rescu'd from the downfall of Polite Letters. Lorenzo promis'd to furnish him with things necessary for a Voyage to Constantinople, if willing to go thither on this Design. Lascaris took him at his Word, and embark'd without any other Credential, than the Letter which Lorenzo gave him for his Factours. Nevertheless he fail'd not of getting access to the Grand Seignior's Port, and of being presented to his Celsitude, who receiv'd him much better than he expected. They had a pretty long Conversation, and Bajazet testify'd to him all the Esteem an In­fidel was capable of, for the Virtue of Lorenzo de Medici, and allow'd him (in con­sideration of that Lord) to buy up all the Manuscripts met with to be fold in his Empire. His Celsitude gave him Men to Conduct and Guard him to and from such places, where he knew there had been Libraries, and to hinder those who had plunder'd them, from selling the Books for more than they were worth. Thus Las­caris had the conveniency of going through­out all Greece, and of collecting those rare Volumes, which still subsist in the French King's Library; yet he brought but half of 'em in the first Voyage he made, because the [Page 266]joy he had to show his Patron the Authors he had retriev'd, tho' held for lost, made him return to Florence, just two years after he departed thence. But Lorenzo sent him back three Months after, and desi­red him to continue his search through all places that had been the Residence of the Learned. Lascaris saw Bajazet again, and receiv'd new Civilities from this Sultan. He travell'd o're all the Peloponesus, and return'd as in Triumph, in a Ship freighted with the rest of the Spoils of the Greek Tongue. But he had not as yet rang'd his Manuscripts in the stately place appointed them, when Lo­renzo de Medici dy'd, and left Italy in a calm of no long Duration. The French Army entred Florence, and dissipated the Books, as well as other the Moveables of the House of Medici. Lascaris not knowing what to do, sided with Charles the 8th, and being a Man of the Cabinet, he had given him the Embassy of Venice, which he acquitted him­self worthily of, under the Reign of that Monarch, and of his Successour, Lewis the 12th. At length, Leo the 10th being be­come Pope, call'd Lascaris to Rome, to be of his Council. He liv'd there as a Man of Quality, and spent regularly for his Table and his Equipage, all the Salaries, and Ec­csileastical Pensions he receiv'd. He lov'd [Page 267]good Chear, and had so much aversion for what is call'd Perking up an Author, that they had all the trouble imaginable, to get him Couch in writing the Aneients way of En­camping, according to Polybius his Memoirs; and the little we have left of his curious Verses, was stoln from him by the Pope's order. He was very much troubled with the Gout in his old Age, and nevertheless attain'd to his Ninetieth year.

The City of Groninghen, so little known before it had brought Rodolphus Agricola into the World, began to be celebrated for his Birth. So great was his Wit, that he learnt at the first, and without pains, all he had a mind to study, and a memory so vast, that nothing escap'd him of what he had once re­tain'd. These two rare Talents, joyn'd to an indefatigable Temperament, supply'd a­bundantly the lowness of his Extraction, and his Domestick Poverty. He became Learned to a Prodigy, with borrow'd books, and without a Master; and the very things he confusedly learnt, and according as they occur'd in Authors, that were lent him, were found dispos'd in a marvellous order and nearness, when he pronounc'd them. He began his Studies, where others were wont to smish them; that is to say, with the Hebrew Tongue. He wou'd know it not [Page 268]only in its Purity, but likewise with all the Alterations produc'd by time, and the Re­finements of the Rabbi's. He was also care­ful to initiate himself into the Greek Tongue, the principal Authors of which he read with so much Accuracy, that his Co-Pro­fessours have since own'd, they could never know of which he was most Master. At last he fell to Latine, without having regard to the Remonstrances of those who dissuaded him from that Province, for that the habit of writing and pronouncing Hebrew, seem'd to have introduc'd in his Mind, an incompatibi­lity with the Roman Phrases and Expressions. In Latine he made so surprizing a Progress, that the famous Erasmus, an Author so little accustomed to commend in another, the Riches he enjoy'd, cou'd not grow weary of admiring him, principally, after he had be­stow'd on the Publick his Commentaries so polite, and so worthy of Augustus his Age, upon Aristotle's Rhetorick and Logick. He also made Verses, whose Character is so soft and melting, that they wou'd never have been taken to have been Writ in the bitter Climate of Friezland, where Agricola dwelt; and those of the Triumph of Love over Rea­son, made him known to the Elector Palatine. This Prince having got a Fancy, as well as Lorenzo de Medici, to form a Library out of [Page 269]the Ruins of those the Turks had ravag'd in Bulgaria, and other the Neighbouring Pro­vinces, prevail'd with Agricola to repair to Heidelberg, the Capital City of his Domi­nions, gave him the first Chair for Eloquence in the University there Erected, and made him his Counsellour of State. But Agricola was not yet well install'd in his new Digni­ties, when a Maligne Feavour snatcht him away in the flower of his Age, and depriv'd Germany of the only Man, it could confront to so many Greeks and Italians, whose Eulo­gies I here make.

We must render this Testimony to the In­famous Genius of Leo Battisti Alberti, that never Man labour'd with more success than he, upon so tiresome and so difficult a mat­ter. His Family, being of the most Illustrious of Florence, and ally'd to that of Medici, wrought the first tye of Friendship he had with Lorenzo: he communicated to him the Design he had conceiv'd of studying the ancient Architecture, and received from him the Counsels and Assistance, that he needed in an Affair which requir'd much Recommendation. And indeed, Lorenzo de Medici's Letters gave him access at the Courts of all the Princes of Europe and Asia, where there were old Ruines of Buildings which seem'd to have been Magnificent. [Page 270] Alberti visited them at his ease; he took al [...] the measures of those decay'd Fabricks; an [...] at his return to Florence, comparing the di­vers Observations he had made with the Precepts of Vitruvius, he own'd, this Au­thors Obscurity to be one of the principal Causes, that had occasion'd Architecture to be neglected for so many Ages. On which account, he resolv'd to render that Author more Intelligible, and make him speak in his own Tongue. He atchiev'd these two things with so much Order and Clearness, that the Learned had reason to say, after having scann'd the Work he had undertaken, that those who should read it, would become a skillful and expert, as he himself. Then he bent his Studies to Opticks, as perceiving that the Painters of his time, did not suc­ceed in making Pourtraicts in Miniature. He found out its Demonstrations and Rules which he illustrated and render'd Publick, and spar'd neither Industry, Pains, or Ex­pence to dress up Youth in practising them From thence it came, that in his time there was at Florence, a greater number of excel­lent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects, than had been known in Greece, even when she boasted of being the Mother and Nurse of the Liberal Arts. I shall not mention them in this place, since the Curious may [Page 271]find 'em in Vasari, who has writ three Vo­lumes in their Commendation. I shall only say, that tho' Alberti had his Mind replete with Palaces. Decorations, and Statues, ne­vertheless he recreated himself some times with less serious Muses. And whosoever shall take the pains to examine the Fables he compos'd, in imitation of those of Aesop, will judge (if he is equitable) that Alberti falls little short of that Ancient. I have not so good an Opinion of the Dialogue he after­wards Publish'd under the Title of Momme, tho' it made at least as much noise, and its Ra [...]l [...]ery seems to me so feeble in several Passages, that a Man must have a great Dis­position to Joy, to feel any in perusing it. Be it as it will, Alberti dyed pretty young in Lorenzo's Arms; and Politian commen­ded him publickly, by the Recitation of a Piece, accounted the most finisht in all his Works.

Hermolaus Barbarus was the first who show'd by Experience, that the most solid Knowledge, and most exalted, had nothing common with Pedantry: For tho' all Europe was persuaded of his being the most Learned of all Men; yet, at Venice, his Birth-place, was he reckon'd for the only Person of all the Nobles, that made profession of the highest and most refined Gallantry. There needed [Page 272]no more than the hearing him discourse up­on all sorts of matters, to be Convinc'd [...] was ignorant of nothing; yet never seen t [...] Study. He was never told of any Book but what he had the Knowledge of, no [...] was there any seen in his Chamber, or his Closet. He had acquaintance with all the [...] topping Wits of his time, but would ente [...] into no strict Tye and Commerce with any save Lorenzo de Medici, Politian, and Pi [...] della Mirandola. At their request he tool upon him the greatest labour, at that time in the Republick of Letters, by Correcting all the Manuscripts of Pliny's Natural Histo­ry, for an acceptable Present to the Pub­lick. As there had been no ancient Work preserv'd, more useful than this, so ha [...] there none been preserv'd more defectu­ous; and of thirty six Books, whereof it i [...] compos'd, three or four only were Intelligi­ble; nay, and only those, which spoke o [...] Men and Annimals: As for those which trea [...] of Stones, of Herbs, of Gums, and Mine­rals, the ignorant Copiers had transcrib'd them with so much negligence, that the [...] was at least a word in each Line, capable [...] stumbling and puzzling the best and able [...] Scholars. The trouble was infinite, and those who had read in young Pliny's Epistles with what both facility and exactness, th [...] [Page 273]Natural History was compil'd, did averr it requir'd twice as much pains to restore it; nay, and after that too, they despair'd of Success. However Hermolaus effect­ed it in a few years. In his Corrections he only made use of the Authority of Manu­scripts all along, where good Sense cou'd subsist with retaining them; and when those Manuscripts were not sufficient, he had re­course to the Greek and Roman Authors, who had writ upon the same matters, and restor'd his Pliny upon their Credit. Lastly, in such places where those two Succours faild him, he put in use his own Conjectures, with so much probability and happiness, that not one of them was gain-say'd. By this ingenuous way did he discover, that the same Pliny was born at Cosme, and that he compos'd a Diser­tation on it, which Convinc'd all those who read it. The Applauses Hermolaus receiv'd on this occasion, made him not have the better opinion of his sufficiency; and they only a­nimated him to continue to serve the Publick. He daily saw that the Medicinal Art was ill practis'd, because two or three Men only in Italy were passibly instructed in the nature of Medicaments, and the admirable desire he had to remedy the defect, made him under­take to do with Dioscorides, the same thing he had atchiev'd upon Pliny. And as his [Page 274]Talent was as large at furbishing up the Greek, as Latin Authors, he had also the same success. Now after this, there seem'd nothing more left for him to do, than enjoy, bask, and acquiesce in the honour he had acquir'd. And his Friends invited him so to do, when he urg'd to them on his own accord, that it was no longer just, that Ita­ly shou'd be intirely indebted to the Greeks, expell'd by the Turks, for the most solid Phi­losophy, by their Traductions of Plato and Aristotle: He added, that whatever pains had been taken, to render those two Au­thors intelligible, principally the last, yet he was so little to be understood, that the Books of Rhetorick, Logick, and Physick were not of any use. That Themistius was the Man, of the Ancients, that had interpreted them with most Judgment and Neatness, but had not been better treated, than Pliny by the Copiers: that it was needful to set a­bout purging him of their faults, and make him speak Latin, so to shrift under his Gui­dance into all the Secrets of the Licoeum, and then take a more honourable Repose, by placing himself at the end of the Carriere, after having open'd to others, those of Na­ture in Pliny, of Simples in Dioscorides, and of Ratiocination, in Themistius. Hermolaus accomplish'd it, according as he had propos'd [Page 275]it, and Themistius appear'd with so much Pleasingness and Majesty, that none have since dar'd to retouch the Work. The Tran­slators Reputation became then so great at the Court of Rome, his abode at that time, that Pope Innocent the 8th, being one day in­form'd, that the Patriarchship of Aquileia was fall'n vacant, he conferr'd it on him with full Right. It is to be presum'd, his Holiness had then no other Intentions, than to re­ward the extraordinary Merit of Hermolaus. But the Senate of Venice was too much upon its Guard, against the Innovations of the Court of Rome, to want taking notice, that the Pope had made an Encroachment, by Conferring the Patriarchship of Aquileia: For tho' the Soveraign Pontiffs pretended, that they might place in that Station whom they pleas'd; yet they never did so with that Soveraign Authority, and were wont to give Bulls only to the Person nominated to them by the Ambassadour of the Repub­lick. Nevertheless, Innocent the 8th had di­spensed himself from keeping this Formality, in the affair in hand, and gave but too much room for suspition to People, naturally di­strustful, that he had nick'd his time to cre­ate Patriarch of Aquileia, a Patriarch and a Personage so famous, that they wou'd be far from opposing his Installation, for the [Page 276]placing there afterwards Parties, as wou'd not be of the same Consideration. From hence it came to pass, that tho' Hermolaus was one of the most Illustrious Gentlemen of Venice, and possess'd besides all the other Qualities, that in another Conjuncture wou'd have preferr'd him to the Patriarchship; yet the Senate acted with as much Rigour and Obstinacy, to hinder his attaining it, as if they had judg'd him absolutely unworthy of it. On the other side, the Pope was re­solv'd to maintain what he had done, and to carry things to extremity, rather than in­dure that Hermolaus shou'd not enjoy the Grace he had done him. But this wonder­ful Genius did his Common-wealth Justice, in opposition to his own Interests, and own'd she had reason to be against him. He con­jur'd the Pope to confer the Benefice on the Party that shou'd be presented to him by the Ambassadour of Venice, and formally declar'd, that he wou'd accept none, if he must incur (at this rate) the Envy of his fellow Citizens. The Pope was so affected with his moderation, that he promis'd to make him Cardinal at the first Promotion. But in a few days after Hermolaus fell sick of a Pe­stilential Feaver; the only remedy to Cure him, was giving him Bezoar, nei­ther mixt, nor sophisticated. There was [Page 277]some at Florence, in an Agate Vessel, which Suldan Cayte-bay had made a Present of to Lorenzo de Medici, Politian, and Picodella Mirandola, sent it Post, but the Courier found Hermolaus just expir'd.

Giorgio Merula, who surviv'd Hermolaus. but four days, had not a Wit so well turn'd as his, tho' little less Vigorous. He was a Lombard by Inclination, as well as by Birth, and those who knew him intimately, obser­ved in him all the Vices, and all the Virtues attributed to that Nation. He was Maligne, unapt to Learn, Revengeful, Pittiless; and if he did no mischief, save by Writing, it was, because that the lowness of his Fortune, and the Employment he follow'd, did not al­low him to do it in any other manner. He held it for an Honour to pass for a Pedant; he affected all the Grimaces of Pedantry, for fear he should be disputed that Quality. All his Life long did he perform the Publick Functions of a Pedant at Venice and Milan. As his main strength consisted in Criticisme, he retrench'd his Wit to that, with it to gore and persecute all the Learned Persons of his Age. He was ever at War with one or other, and so implacable, that he wou'd never be reconcil'd with any Body. He had also this property of the Mad-dog, which he had ta­ken for his Devise, that his bite was incura­ble: [Page 278] Calderin was the first, whose Reputa­tion he took a pleasure in ruining, not that he desir'd to gain by it, but only, because it seem'd too well settl'd to his Fancy. Then fell he to making an Index of the Errors he had found in Galcote, and us'd him so severe­ly, that he took pet, and dy'd. These two advantages, gain'd in the Gram­mar Combat, puft up his Heart. He took up all the able men in Europe, and publish'd against them his Corrections, which were read with so much the more avidity, that of so many Persons, whose Ignorance was mark'd, there was not one durst set Pen to Paper in his own Vindication, out of fear of being crusht with a Reply. Merula did not so much as spare Politian, tho' Politian had acquir'd Fame sufficient, as not to have his match. He shew'd him, that tho' Nature had given him all the qualities requisite to become Learned, she had not however been able to render him so. He noted to him a­bove thirty egregious faults, that had started from him, and hinted to him charitably (said he) that out of a desire to pass for the first, in the Republick of Letters, he must have read more, and study'd more than all the rest together. Ludovico Sforza being a­maz'd at his having so formidable a Subject in his Colledge of Milan, made a scruple of em­ploying [Page 279]him any longer in Correcting of Children, and drew him out of the Dust, to cause him to compile the History of Milan. But it was only to leave to Posterity a me­morable Example, that the being very Learned, and perceiving the least Faults and Blunders of others, was not sufficient to make a good Historian: For tho' Merula has wrote with so much exactness and precaution, the Work prescrib'd him, that the greatest Critick cou'd not find any thing in it to carp at; yet true it is, that his Book is so dry and barren, that those to whom the Authors Fame had given an itching to read it, seldom but grutch'd the time they had spent in that amuzement. This did not hinder him from being magnificently rewarded; but as he was near ninety years of Age, when he had finisht it, none but his Heirs gain'd by the benefit that accru'd from his Performance. Politian was the Man that got most by his Death. He had publish'd the first Century of his Miscellanies; and Merula being scanda­liz'd at the audaciousness, which seem'd to be in the word Century, had threatned Politian to detach against him whole Regiments of Authorities and Passages, to justifie the con­trary of all he asserted, but had only the lei­sure to rough-draw the Project.

Never Man came to be so admir'd for his [Page 280]Wit, in so green a Youth, as Angelius Poli­tianus; and never Man knew better how to preserve, by just and unjust ways, the Reputation he had acquir'd. He was born at Florence, and his Relations liv'd in such woful Poverty, as constrain'd him to be of Giuliano's, and Lorenzo de Medici's Re­tinue, when they went to the Colledge, and to wear their Liveries, that he might have the conveniency of being there. He had an ugly Face, a huge big and long Nose, his left Eye squinted; but he had a pliant and flexible Wit, and was finely and craftily Ambitious. He never us'd so much Artifice to disguise himself, save only with those he had most Communication: He never heard any thing with so much Indignation, as the Praises of others: he was equally en­vious of his Friends and of his Enemies. No other Pen compos'd any thing to his li­king; he lov'd not to receive Correction, tho' he did it importunately to all sorts of Persons. It was sometimes seen that he ac­knowledged his Faults, and that it was meerly out of Malice, he resisted Truth. Yet he never own'd to have blunder'd. As to his way of living, it was so corrupted, that Modesty hinders me from speaking of it. What I mean, will be but too well divined by the Knowledge of his Death, [Page 281]which I cannot steal from my Reader, be­cause it was too publick. Yet after all this, he had so marvellous a Genius, that the World has not seen the like since Ovid. At twelve years old he compil'd such stately Verses, that a body wou'd have said they were of Alexander's Age, or of that of Augu­stus. And when the fancy took him to sur­prize the Learned, and make his own Pro­ductions pass for Fragments of Anacreon, or of Catullus, which he had just found by chance, in some old Manuscripts of the Me­dici's Library, those who best understood these matters, were impos'd on in their be­lief. His first famous piece was for Giuliano de Medici. This young Lord had won the prize of a Turnament, and lay questing af­ter a Panegyrick, not inseriour to Luca Pul­si's, who had signaliz'd himself in the like occasion, to the advantage of Lorenzo. Politian undertook the Province, and having perceiv'd that Pulsi's Poem was not all along of the same Force, through the Authors having only couch'd in it things purely of his own Invention; he fancy'd he needed only (to a­void this inequality) take a quite opposite Method. He Book-padded the ancient Pa­negyricks of the noblest thoughts that suited with his Subject. He travesty'd them after his own manner, and enchasing them with [Page 282]such Passages of Poetry, where he was not satisfy'd with his own Product; he made so fine a piece, that Pulsi, after having read it, wou'd have suppress'd his own, out of shame and vexation. The same Giuliano having been kill'd in the Pazzi's Conspiracy, Politi­an lying perdue for an extraordinary occasi­on, to shew he writ as well in Prose as in Verse, drew up so Pathetick a Description of this Conspiracy, that the Learned, who as­sembled in the Library de Medici, avow'd that Cicero cou'd have done nothing better. After these two Essays, the high opinion Po­litianus had of his Abilities, made him fall to intriguing for the Profession of the Latin and Greek Eloquence. At the same time he became the Concurrent of Demotrius Calchon­dile, and top'd him, by having a more plea­sing Accent, and by strewing his Discourse with Points, and bloomy, flourishing Expres­sions, so to recreate his Auditory. Above five hundred young Gentlemen, of all Countries in Europe, went to fetch him eve­ry morning in his own House, to accom­pany him, out of Honour, to the very Hall where he taught, and re-conducted him in like manner, when he descended the Chair. These Deferences gave him so whimsical an Opinion of his parts, that he fancy'd, to keep up so great a Reputation, he must set about [Page 283]more solid Works, than Verses, or Relati­ons, or at least amuse the World with the expectation of some great Labour, and yet do nothing all the while. For this reason did he spend five whole years, without giving the Publick ought else than Lessons. But at length the itch of Writing prevailing over his first design, he caus'd a Traduction of Herodian to be Printed, which had not all the effect he pretended: For tho' it was generally admir'd, a rumour was buz'd about, that Po­litian had found it among the Papers of the famous Gregorio de Citta di Castello, which he had bought; and this report was grounded on such Conjectures, as were but faintly destroy'd. Pope Leo, who was then under Politian, and heard all that was said Pro. and Con at his Fathers Table, being desir'd twenty years after, by the Academicks of Rome, to tell them his Sentiments in the Case, left the thing in suspence, and undecided, and agreed, that the stile of that Translation, had nothing like to that of Politian's other works, and held more of the Paint, and Ar­tifice, and Luxuriancy, which Gregorio de Citta di Castello was wont to use in his Com­positions: He added however (as if he had been afraid of having said too much) that this Gregorio had done nothing comparable to this Version of Herodian. Be it as it will, [Page 284]the work is so finisht and compleat, tho' in some places it's too spruce, and over abounds with finical trappings, that none have yet dar'd to decide which is the best translated, Polybius, or Herodian. Politian, a Man extraordinary nice, in matters of Honour, spar'd nothing of what might hinder him from passing for a Plagiary. He publish'd his Miscellanies and his Poetries: and as he was happy and persuasive, he wou'd, perchance, have effected it, but for Death, which lopt him off at forty two years of Age. The Cri­minal passion he had for one of his Scholars of high Quality, not being to be satisfy'd, it cast him into a burning Fever. In the violence of the fit, he made a Song for the Object wherewith he was Charm'd, got out of Bed, took a Lute, with so tender and piteous an Air, that he expir'd in finishing the second Couplet, the same day that Charles the 8th past the Alps in his way to the Conquest of Naples.

I cannot better finish this Book, than by the Eulogy of Giovanni Pico Soveraign Prince della Mirandola, and of Concord. This Prince, sirnam'd the Phoenix of the Wits, with so much justice, that none have grutcht him that Title, was born in his own state, and the eldest of a Family that boasted being descended from Constantine the Great. [Page 285]The Prodigies which appear'd in Heaven, and upon the Earth, at the moment of his Nativity, testifie there never had been, and perhaps wou'd never be such another Geni­us. He study'd not any thing, how diffi­cult soever, but conceiv'd it at first. He found not any Author obscure enough, to put him to one moments plunge. He pene­trated by his own lights, into Euclid, and the Algebra; he found the secret to reconcile Aristotlé with Plato, and Scotus with Saint Thomas. At ten years old, he study'd the Law at Bologne, and Commented gradually as he study'd. At eighteen years of Age he knew two and twenty Tongues. And at three and twenty, he sent over all the World, his so celebrated Theses, by which he under­took to establish such certain Principles, and discuss the principal difficulties of all Sciences in general, and of each in particular, with­out using other terms, than those that were proper to it. He challeng'd to answer in the same Tongue he shou'd be question'd; he in­vited the Poor to the Disputation, as well as the Rich, and offer'd to pay the Charges of their Journey. He chose the City of Rome for the publick Conveniency; and the The­ses were maintain'd there, with such a Con­course of Learned men, as had never been so great in any place. The Respondent was [Page 286]the beautifullest Man of his Age, and such an one, as was capable of gratifying th [...] Eyes and Ears at the same time. He had [...] noble lofty mien, tall, and of a transcen­dant shape, and such as is attributed to He­roes, and his Body as well fashion'd as hi [...] Wit. He had also this peculiar to himself that his Application to the most tow'ring ab­struce Sciences, made him neglect nothing [...] a gallant Garb, and well-dressing, that conduce [...] to heighten Lustre, and captivate Affection He had the knack of explaining his concepti­ons so easily, and with so good a Grace, tha [...] People were never weary of hearing him He neither confounded the Words nor Phra­ses of so many Tongues, wherewith his me­mory was freighted. The tone of his Voic [...] was agreeable. He sweetn'd the most seri­ous Discourses, with fine and innocen [...] Railleries, that they might go down th [...] more glib. He became the more Eloquent gradually as he grew warm, and his An­swers were so pat and solid, that it cou' [...] never be observ'd, whether he had mor [...] Wit, or Judgment, or Memory, so many amazing Testimonies did he give, of his pos­sessing those three Qualities, in a degree su­periour to other Men. However, as h [...] admitted all sorts of Persons indifferently t [...] Disputation, and had inserted in his Positi­ons [Page 287]the Cabala of the Jews, the Defence of the most exalted Christian Mysteries, by Natural Reason, and the nicest Passages of the Councils, Fathers, and Ecclesiastical Hi­story; some there were, who unable to at­tain to the sublimity of his Notions, tax'd him with Heresie, and made such a Noise and Clamour, that the Pope was upon the point of suspending the Disputes; which, being intimated to the Prince of Mirandola, he besought his Holiness to give him the lei­sure to purge himself of the Crimes im­puted to him, and principally of that which most shock'd the Demi-Learned, namely, of maintaining that Origen was sav'd, notwith­standing his Definition, contrary to the Fifth General Council; and tho' busy'd all day long in answering, yet he compil'd in seven­teen Nights that wonderful Apology, which cannot be read, without a Mans being startl'd, to see so young a Prince equally strong upon all sorts of matters. He triumph'd o're all those, who wou'd have put his Religion to the arbitrement of each private Noddle, and compos'd his own Epitaph, which is only to take it aright, a Commentary upon the first Chapter of Genesis, wherein the Creati­on of the World is explain'd after so ravish­ing a manner, that there is no penetrating farther into the meaning of the Holy Writ. [Page 288]Afterwards his strict engagement with Lorenzo de Medici, render'd them Compani­ons in Study; they daily communicated to one another, things they had learnt or me­ditated anew; they sent one another their Works, they corrected one anothers Com­positions, and from one of their Conversa­tions have I discover'd, how Lorenzo wri [...] a Dialogue of Love and Fortune, so tender and ingenious, that the Prince of Mirando­la (after having examin'd it) let him know, when he return'd it him, that he had not ob­serv'd the proportion of Ages with suffici­ent exactness, and how Venus had not so many Charmes, when she issu'd from the Froth of the Sea, as he gave his Cu­pid, though he only represented him as a Child newly born. This stroak will suffice to judge, how quaint and delicate was those two great Mens Criticisms. I have not been able to find out the true Cause, that set the Prince of Mirandola to write a­gainst Astrologers; nor am I satisfy'd with that alledg'd by his Nephew. I lay a much greater stress upon a Conjecture, which came into my mind, upon reading his Apology; that it might be the Profes­sors of the Judicial, very rife at that time, having made their advantage of some Pro­positions in his Theses, seemingly in their [Page 289]favour, he thought himself oblig'd to pre­vent, by a publick disclaiming of those Te­nents, the benefits they might thence de­rive. Be it as it will, the Allarm this gave them, was so hot, that they assembled to resolve what course they had best to take. They calculated the Prince of Mirandola's Nativity, and found two remarkable things. The one, that he shou'd not put the last hand to his work against them; and the other, that he shou'd not exceed thirty two years of Age. They sent to signifie this doom to him, at which he made a mock. But the event justify'd their Prediction: for as this Prince was compleating to un­dermine the Foundations of their Science, he was seiz'd with a Fever, which knock'd him off in thirty days space. It has been observ'd, that he breath'd his last in the very moment that Charles the 8th. en­tred Florence; and that the Library de Medici was dissipated, as if hazzard had taken him out of the World, in a Con­juncture, when he was going to be be­reav'd of the Originals of the Ancients, without which he could not live. He had been so concern'd at Savanarola's Predicti­ons, that he was upon the point of renoun­cing the World, and going (after the Apo­stolick manner) to preach the Gospel through [Page 290]the Villages. However, his Work against the Astrologers, (as imperfect as it is) is ne­vertheless the best that has been composed, since those of the Fathers of the Church.

The End of the Fourth Book.

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS. The Fifth Book.

ALL the Italian Historians of the last Century suppose, that Piero de Medici's imprudence undermin'd all the Foundations laid by his Pre­decessors, for the aggrandizement of his Fa­mily. But none have yet precisely shown, wherein that Imprudence consisted, nor its [Page 292]Results and Consequences. I undertake the representing them here in order; and for my being the better understood, I begin with the Pourtraict of him, whose Errors I mean to describe.

Never did Son resemble less his Father, than Piero de Medici, and never Father had so much Antipathy for a Child, as Loren­zo had for Piero. It seem'd as if Nature had only form'd the one for the other, to set her self at odds, by a division of her Provinces, and to invest two contrary Objects with all her Virtues and Vices, without giving any thing to the Son, of what she had put into the Father. Piero de Medici possessed all the qualities wanting in Lorenzo, but had not so much as one of those in him admir'd. His Body was incomparably well made, and e­specially the finest Head that had been ever seen. He was of so strong and sound a Com­plexion, that not any excess was capable of staggering it. So much strength had he at seventeen years of Age, that not a Man was there, but whom he flung in wrastling. He was extraordinarily expert and clever in all Exercises, serving to fashion young Gentle­men. His meen was altogether Martial, when he appear'd arm'd at all points; and the Judges of the Turnaments own'd, no Man knew how to break a Lance with a better Grace than Piero.

His Wit was vast and piercing, but so ill turn'd, he cou'd not use it to advantage. Nor capable was he of Friendship, nor of Secresie; had no application but to Pleasures, and on­ly of good humour in Hunting and with La­dies. The time spent in concernments of the Republick, he reputed as lost, and went not to the Council, save when he had no shift left to dispense him from going. He neg­lected the Complaints made him against the Subalternate Magistrates, and thought it be­low him to have an Eye to their Deport­ments. The Friends of his House could not get admittance to his Speech, till after having a long while danc'd attendance in his Anti­chamber, that their Zeal had had the leisure to chill, and other Citizens of Florence cou'd have no access to his Person. It spighted him infinitely, when People discours'd him upon the Modesty of his Ancestors. He ridicul'd their Oeconomy, principally in what regar­ded the Table. Insupportable was his Pride in a Town, where all the Gentlemen thought themselves one anothers equals. And his Luxury came to seem the more exorbitant, when compar'd with his Fathers and Great Grand-fathers Thrift, and good Husbandry. His Anger no less sudden, nor less dangerous, than that of Alexander; for instance, poor Leoni, whom, at Careggio, he threw into [Page 294]the Well; but with more ease appeas'd, since there needed no more for the putting him into a good humour, than a Song or Lay of Musick, or the Sound of some plea­sant Instruments. His Tutor, Politian, had observ'd him never to be troubled with Splenatick Humours, as long as he heard good Verses recited in his Native Tongue; and to derive advantage from this observati­on, a sort of Diurnal Academy was held a [...] his House, where the Poets came daily to re­hearse their Works in the Tuscan Dialect and there receiv'd the approbatim or cen­sure they deserved.

With this so whimsical temperament▪ Piero de Medici found himself encharg'd with the principal Direction of the Floren­tine Affairs, and remain'd not long in that Capacity, which serv'd for as many steps to [...] help him to descend into the Precipice.

The first is, he had got a fancy of making Love to all the fair Women of Quality, and was so little discreet and moderate in the assi­duous visits he paid their Ladiships, that their Husbands, and his Friends were almost equally scandaliz'd.

The second, His Mother, of the Lineage of the Orsini's, thinking it convenient to mar­ry him, so with Matrimony to extinguish his fickle Flames, she propos'd to him a beau­teous [Page 295]and rich Heiress of the stock of Orsini, call'd Alfonsina, whom he wedded; but had as much disgust for her, in a few weeks after his Marriage, as he had shown fondness for the Match. The first time he saw her, he us'd her so scurvily, that he was hated for it by all his own People, who could not (with­out resentment) see him renew his Libertine way of Living, from which they had pre­tended to tye him by this Wedlock.

The third Fault was, That for some Dis­courses of a double meaning, which scap'd from two of his Cousins, call'd Lorenzo, and Giovanni de Medici, whom it behov'd him so much the more to have consider'd, in that they descended from Male to Male, from a Brother of Cosmo the Old; he caus'd them to be chastis'd with a perpetual Banishment, however great his Interest was in their Pre­servation, and whatever Remonstrances his Friends had made him upon so nice a Subject. From whence it came, that these young Gentlemen being retir'd into France, were kindly welcom'd at the Court of Charles the 8th, where they so strongly prepossess'd Cardinal Brissonet, and other the Ministers, to Piero de Medici's disadvantage, that when he went to this Prince, the Persons nomina­ted to negociate with him, did in no wise credit his Proposals and Asseverations, nor [Page 296]wou'd they trust him, but under good Cau­tions, which occasion'd his Disgrace.

The fourth Fault was, that Piero de Me­dici had so good an Opinion of his Wit, as to fancy, he might cully Lodovico Sforza, Duke of Milan, who cully'd all Mankind. Sforza, after having seiz'd the State and Person of the young Duke, under colour of Tuition, thought an high Alliance needful to main­tain him in his Usurpation. The Princess Isabella of Naples, seem'd to him fittest for his design, not only on the score of all the House of Arragon's support, at that time strictly combin'd, but because this Princess had the blaze of the most accomplish'd Beau­ty in all Europe. But an Obstacle there was to surmount, which seem'd invincible; for that young Princess had been solemnly pro­mis'd to the young Duke of Milan, Lodovi­co Sforza's Nephew, from whence he had in view, that besides the Breach of word, to which the House of Naples wou'd hardly be induc'd, it must likewise be brought to Con­sent, that the Princess shou'd marry a Sub­ject, after having been promis'd to a Sove­raign, to which, it was well known, the high Spirit of that House wou'd in no wise suffer it to hearken.

Not but that Lodovico Sforza did himself sufficiently manifest in his Discourse, that [Page 297]he meant suddenly to be Duke, and already projected in his mind, the poysoning of his Nephew, which he since committed, when the Armies of France had assur'd him of Im­punity. But in short, the thing was not yet effected, either that the occasion serv'd not yet, or that he had still left in his Heart some natural tenderness to surmount. Moreover, were the Crime committed, such a Course was so strange and novel among Christians, that the King of Naples, already much hated, wou'd not have dar'd to give his Daughter to a Man suspected of such an Action; and Lodovico Sforza well perceiving that he wou'd stand aloof from the same Al­liance he must Court by this step, so of ne­cessity to be made for its attainment.

However, as Ambition finds nothing im­possible, when tun'd to the key of Love; Sforza sent his Confident Galeazzo da san Se­verino to Naples to negotiate under-hand, that the Princess might be granted him, un­der the Cant of the Duke his Nephew's be­ing so ill, that he cou'd live but little longer.

The King of Naples had an extream repug­nance to this Alliance, and yet wou'd have been brought to a Compliance, as labouring under a great dread of Sforza's Artifices, if it had not been oppos'd by the Duke of Cala­bria, [Page 298]his Eldest Son, a man of less Experi­ence, and more Courage than Old Ferrand▪ It has been believ'd, that this was upon the Princess Isabella's Solicitation, who, accor­ding to her Device, was no less Lofty than Beautiful. They add, that her Brother and She, treated as Ridiculous Galeazzo da sa [...] Severino's Overture, and in that Envoy's presence made a mock of some Infirmities, to which Sforza was bruited to be subject.

Galeazzo da san Severino informed Sforza of these Transactions, who took strange measures to wreak his Revenge on the House of Arragon. He caus'd his Nephew to drin [...] a Potion, which bereft him of Judgment▪ and then suffer'd his Match to be Consummated with the Princess of Naples, for the giving her the vexation of having marry'd a Fool, and perhaps likewise for having her in his Power, when become a Widdow. He was contriving the means to exclude the Duke of Calabria's Succession to the Crown of Naples, and found not out any other way, than to make him the Conquest of Charles the 8th. He sent to sollici [...] this Prince to come into Italy, and to pur­sue with his Arms, his Ancestors Pretention upon the two Sicilies.

France made some difficulty at first to en­gage, as not having Friends enow in Italy; and Sforza, after having taken upon him [Page 299]to Conduct in all safety its Armies, as far as the Territory of Florence, made the Council of France hope he wou'd attract Piero de Medi­ci into the most Christian King's Interests. This was no easie matter to effect, seeing the Florentines had, a little time afore, sign'd a League with the Pope, and the House of Arragon. But the same Galeazza da san Se­verino, of whom I have already spoken, had orders to endeavour to break it. He accosted Piero de Medici, who cou'd not fail of repartying; that when the French King was Master of Naples, it wou'd be easie for him to subdue the rest of Italy. Galeazzo, whom Sforza had commanded to break his mind to Piero de Medici, took him aside, and disclos'd to him in Confidence, and under the Rose, that his Masters Design was indeed, that the French shou'd come into Italy, but not there to stay; that he knew how to send them packing beyond the Alpes, after ha­ving made them his Implements to humble the Duke of Calabria. Piero de Medici, not being capable of keeping so great a Secret, reveal'd it to so many Persons, that it came to Charles the 8th his Ears, and he made hea­vy Complaints to Sforza, who found no other way to purge himself, but by consenting, that the French shou'd put Garrisons into all the Important places in their Passage. But [Page 300]in recompence, he conceiv'd an irreconcilia­ble hatred to Piero de Medici.

In the mean while the French advanc'd, and as soon as they approached Tuscany, they summon'd the Florentines to come to a De­claration. Piero de Medici committed then a Fifth Fault, which I only glance upon, it being already registred in History. He went and put himself into their hands, and got not thence, till after having deliver'd up the For­tress of Pisa, Leghorn, Seruzana, and Pietra Sculta. This fir'd the Florentines with so much Indignation, that one of them, Verli by name, shut the Door upon his Nose, when he came to take his Seat in the Coun­cil. This Exclusion persuaded him he was utterly lost. Home went he, took Horse, and without being follow'd by more than two of his Domesticks, who cou'd not endure to see him go away alone, he departed Florence, and scour'd away to Bologna. So sudde [...] and so shameful a retreat, quite discredited him with his Friends as well as Enemies. Both Fancy'd he must needs be more culpa­ble than they had imagin'd, and so have drea­ded the utmost Punishments, since he fled away in a time when his Country needed most his Presence. Upon this Prejudice, they pass'd through all the Proceedings a­gainst him, that are wont to be exerted a­gainst [Page 301]Criminals; Arraign'd he was of Con­tumacy, pursu'd, his Estate seiz'd, set to sail by Publick Out-cry; they sold at a low Price, that prodigious mass of Moveables, Pictures, Anticks, and Manuscripts Colle­cted in the space of sev'nty years, with so much Pains and Curiosity. And by a Ca­pricious effect, the Grandeur of the House of Medici, never glitter'd more, than during the two or three Weeks it was giv'n up to Pillage.

Said I have, that Piero de Medici had two Brothers, Giuliano, and Giovanni the Cardi­nal. Giuliano was in the House, when the eldest departed thence, and accompany'd him; but the Cardinal being out upon a Vi­sit, found more difficulty to make his escape. At first he thought to take refuge in the Con­vent of St. Marco, built and founded by his Ancestors, and lurk there till the storm was over; but the Religious more timerous than grateful, declin'd, with Excuses, giving him a retreat. Then he had recourse to the Cor­deliers, who made him lay aside the Purple, and clad him with one of their Habits, by favour of which, he pass'd, without being known, through the Gate of St. Gal, and went to join his Brothers. The House of Medici seem'd now so humbl'd, by so terrible a Squelch, that it cou'd not of a long time be [Page 302]possible for it to get up again. However, it was upon the point of being re-establish'd, in a few days after this Disaster, if Piero de Me­dici had not himself thwarted his own hap­piness, by a Caprice, which pawl'd Fortune in such manner, that she utterly turn'd tale, and never more wou'd she stir in his be­half.

Charles the 8th being inform'd of the Disorder which happen'd in Florence, drew near it, and made his entrance into that Town, in the posture of a Conquerour. Alfonsina degli Orsini laid her self at the Kings Feet, holding in her Arms a Son of hers but lately born. Her Tears melted the Hearts of all present, and made her find Friends in a Court where she was utterly unacquainted. Two persons were there of the King's Attendants, who shared the Favour, the one in quality of Prin­cipal Minister, the other, as Favourite. Cardinal Brissonet had the Province of Af­fairs, and possess'd his Masters good Opinion, without seeking any other support than his own Merit. And the Count de Bresse, the Duke of Savoyes Brother, having more affi­nity with the Age and Temperament of Charles, was one in all his Pleasures, and lay at watch for a Conjuncture proper to supplant the Cardinal. He knew this Old Minister had declar'd an averseness to Piero [Page 303]de Medici, and was prejudic'd with the opi­nion, that the King's Authority could not subsist at Florence, save during an equality a­mong the Citizens; that must be extinct when the House of Medici shou'd be invested with Soveraign Power.

To destroy this supposition, the Count de Bresse (after having back'd his Design with a strong Cabal) represented to the King, that as his Majesty cou'd not stay at Florence, it became him to think of maintaining that City in his Party; that the safest and most Com­modious way was, not to leave there the Popular Government, then newly Erected, by reason it wou'd be expos'd to continual Seditions, not to be calm'd, save by a Pow­erful Garrison, which France was not then in a Condition to leave; that much better it wou'd be, to recall Piero de Medici, and re­instate him in Affairs with so good a Grace, as that he might owe to France the whole Obligation of his Restauration, since the gra­titude for so great a benefit, being united with the concern of Self-preservation, wou'd link him in an inviolable Union with France.

This Reason had the Ascendant, though neither solid nor specious, for that the King did not then think so much of doing things safely, as of expediting them with the soonest. A Courier was dispatch'd away to Bologna, [Page 303]to advise Piero de Medici to return to Flo­rence, but the Courier found him not. He had taken exception, for that Bentivoglio, when he receiv'd him into his Palace, had blam'd him for being Bug-bear'd with his own Shadow, and for banishing himself from the best Station in Italy, without being push'd, or laying his hand to his Sword, he who pretended to so much Bravery. This Correction was unseasonable, and so much the more harsh to support, as being conscious of its being well grounded; but it be­came him to pardon this Irregular Discourse, in such an impetuous and severe Man as Ben­tivoglio, who fear'd the Bolognesi might unite after the Florentines Example, and constrain him in his turn, to seek out a retreat, in lieu of affording it to others.

In the mean while Piero de Medici thought Bentivoglio had talkt thus out of Raillery, or to slurr upon him a Bravade And as Persons in distress have more Diffi­dence than ordinary, he suspected he might be betray'd, since in his own Presence he was turn'd into Derision. Hereupon he projected to seek out another place of safety, and departed on the m [...]w without saying whither he went. Insomuch that the Cou­rier having neither been able to find him, nor get tydings of him; Charles being oppress'd [Page 305]to leave Florence, was oblig'd to leave it in the State he found it. Eight days after, Pi­ero de Medici was known to be at Venice, where Virginio Orsini, his Ally having brave Troops, treated with him for his re-instati­on. He advanc'd Courageously into the very sight of Florence, but the Correspondence he had in that place not keeping tack at the time prefixt, compell'd he was to return thence, after having advis'd Piero de Medici to take his measures better another time. This first Essay did for a long while dishearten those who were able to form others, and gave all the leasure necessary to the Enemies of the House of Medici, to put invincible Obsta­cles to its re-establishment. But as People are almost ever mistaken in the choice of Men, when they do it in haste; it happen'd that Bernardo Neri, whom the Florentines Elected for Gonfalioniere, was the most ardent and best intention'd of the Medici's secret Friends. Nevertheless his Magistracy was continued for three years, but almost whol­ly spent, without his finding any occasion of doing them an Office, as being ever ob­structed by Savanarola.

This Religious of St. Dominick was very Learned, and the most knowing Man that had been in Italy, since the Age of the first Caesars. He liv'd in great Austerity, and [Page 306]check'd Vices in all sorts of Persons, with a boldness, by some styl'd Temerity. He had foretold so many extraordinary things, which falling out all in the Circumstances he had noted, he pass'd for a great Prophet: and the Florentines were so strongly persua­ded of his Sanctity, that they even Cano­niz'd him, during his Life time His real and suppos'd Talents made him act in Flo­rence, with as much Authority, as if he had been Soveraign, since they not only defer'd to his Counsels in Publick Assemblies, but he was moreover the Umpire of Domestick matters, and decided quarrels arising between Husbands and Wives, without there ever being any inexecution or complaint against his Decisions and Decrees. He was prepos­sess'd with the Opinion of the Florentines being more capable of the popular Govern­ment, than of any other; and for this rea­son had he endeavour'd to ruine the Designs of the Medici, as seeing them addicted to confer the first Offices of the State, on the Principal and Richest Citizens, that so the People might be dis-accustom'd from exerci­sing them, and suffer 'em to enjoy them with the more ease, when they came to talon them with an Usurpation.

Savanarola bottom'd his Practices and In­terests upon the same Principles, by calling [Page 307]the vilest Mechanicks to the most honoura­ble Functions, nay, and in willing they shou'd officiate them with Gentlemen; I mean, that he thereby aim'd to take away the ancient Antipathy, reigning between the Nobility and the Populace. But hence arose two notable Inconveniences; the one, that Gentlemen, the most capable of exercising the Magistratures, laid them down, as soon as they had heard their Colleagues nam'd; the other, that Coblers, for Example, were daily seen to squat in their Stalls, after ha­ving laid aside their Robe of Magistracy. This appear'd so ridiculous at first, and in process of time, so very much spighted the ancient Nobility, that Neri found the Nobles almost wholly inclin'd to uphold their Rank.

The first who unbosom'd their Intentions to him were, Giacomo Ridolphi, Lorenzo Tournaburni, and Giovanni Bueci. Others declar'd their Minds as occasion serv'd; but there was not as yet the least glimmering of success for any attempt against Savanarola, as long as the People were on his side, and now this Emergency was expected wou'd be­reave him of their Affection. The main Po­licy of the Medici had ever been, that the Florentines shou'd never want either Bread or Divertisements: and as they had neither an [Page 308] Aegypt nor a Sicily, to make largesses of Corn, in imitation of Augustus; they had retrench'd their Craft to effect, that the Grain shou'd cost no more one year than an­other. For this purpose they took care to lay up Stores in Granaries, from whence they were fetch'd in time and place, when there had been many barren years together. They took out of the publick Treasury, or their own Coffers, the surplusage of what this Grain cost; and when the Famine was general in Italy, and throughout all Europe, they encharged their Factours in Asia and A­frica to buy up Corn at Cairo, and on the Coasts of Barbary, to freight with it their Ships, and convey it safely into Tuscany.

As Savanarola was not in a Capacity to do the like, he felt the Counter blow upon the first scarcity that happen'd. His having Prophecy'd the want, avail'd him not in the least; on the contrary, the Florentines took it so much the more in dudgeon, that he had us'd no remedy in the case. Many of the Mobile no longer shew'd so much Zeal for his Person, and others burst out so far as to twit him, that he wou'd do better to re­main in his Cloister, than be fumbling, groa­ping, and fribling in a way he did not under­stand. Neri, seeing the Disposition he ex­pected, fram'd a Party, which seem'd suffici­ently [Page 309]strong to re-invest the House of Me­dici. He gave Piero the necessary Intimati­on, and advis'd him to come with the most Troops he cou'd get together, without ma­king much noise.

Piero de Medici having not much Credit among the Souldiers, had recourse to Bar­tolomeo de Lalviano, newly acknowledg'd head of the Family of the Ʋrsini's, upon no­tice of Virginio's being poyson'd in the Castle of Loeuf, at Naples. Lalviano, reputed the most active and determinate Adventurer of his Age, listen'd to this Proposition, and set about atchieving it. The day was appoin­ted, and the time of Midnight chosen as the most Commodious. The Conspirators con­certed their Measures with Piero de Medici, and Secresie was kept by all Parties. Lal­viano's Souldiers us'd incredible expedition, and met at the Rendezvous, but four Leagues from Florence, with Piero de Medici, who set himself at their head. But in the very moment they began to file off in good Order, there fell so great a Rain, that in­stead of the six hours they had reckon'd to accomplish their March in, it cost 'em twelve; so as it was already broad day when they came before the Town. They wou'd nevertheless have surpriz'd Florence, there being not the least inckling of their [Page 310]Design, and that the Conspirators were not wanting to keep the Gate, agreed on, open. But Chance alone frustrated their fore-sight, Paulo Vitelli commanding the Florentine's Army before Pisa, had wanted some Directi­ons; and as it was an Affair of moment, he had thought his Presence necessary, to pro­cure dispatch. Being on his Journey, but delay'd by the bad Weather, he arriv'd ex­actly at the Gate, through which Lalviane and Piero de Medici were going to enter, when he heard behind him a Body of Horse advancing full speed. He lost neither pre­sence of mind, nor judgment; and suspect­ing what might possibly be the Design, he himself hall'd up the Bridge, shut the Gate, and gave the Allarm. The Citizens flock'd thither, and Savanarola, one of the first, they pointed the Canon against Lalviano's Gross, who judging, by the Countenance of the Florentines, that nothing was to be expected from the Faction in his Confederacy, he persuaded Piero de Medici to a Retreat, both keeping in the Rear of their Men.

For two Months together search was made in vain, after the Authors of the Conspiracy, nor had they been detected, but for one cer­tain Autelli, whose Audacity was so great, as to give up to the Magistrates, a Servant of [Page 311] Neri's, without having any other Evidence, but his seeing him Arm'd, on the day Piero de Medici offer'd to enter. The Servant being taken into Custody, had shew'd to him the Instruments of the Rack, told all he knew, and the principal Complices were imprison'd. Their Indictment being drawn up, Savanarola too late perceiv'd the danger, in punishing so great a number of illustrious Cri­minals. Francisco Valeri had most concern in the Sentence, and prosecuted it with more heat than others. He was Savanarola's best Friend, seconded him in all hardy Enterprises, had contributed to his gaining the repute of Ho­liness; but, in recompence, ruin'd him, by refusing to Sacrifice to the publick Good a petty Interest of Revenge. Now these are the Circumstances I have been able to find out upon so delicate an Affair. I omit others, because that, of so many Authors who speak of Savanarola's Catastrophe, there's not one but is prepossess'd with Passion for or against him.

Valeri was Neri's mortal Enemy, and re­solv'd to ruin him at any rate. The Con­juncture for the bringing it about cou'd not be more propitious. Neri was convicted of the Conspiracy; but, not with any Face, cou'd they punish him singly, seeing he ap­pear'd no more culpable than his Complices, [Page 312]wherefore they were all to be Condemn'd to the same Punishment, or Pardon'd; and Sa­vanarola, contrary to Custom, was of Opini­on they ought to be Repriev'd. He conjur'd Valeri that it might be so; remonstrated to him the Consequence, representing that all the other Criminals were either his Allies or Friends. But this Bloody minded Man, meerly out of the Pleasure he shou'd take in Neri's Punishment, had regard nor to Rea­son nor to Amity. The Sentence of Death was pronounc'd, and never, in a small State, were there seen more Eminent Persons Exe­cuted in one day.

This rejoyc'd the People at first; and at long run, as is usual, turn'd 'em tender and compassionate. So many re-doubled Exe­cutions created a Horrour in them; they ac­cus'd Savanarola of the Butchery. And the Nobles not thinking their own Power suffi­cient to ruin that Religious, without hazar­ding the Government, engaged the Court of Rome for its own Interests, to second their Endeavours. Savanarola had Preach'd a­gainst the Vices of Pope Alexander the 6th, with the same Freedom he us'd in snubbing and rebuking those of private Persons. Had added, in the heat of his Discourse, how he was not afraid of being Excommunicated for speaking in this manner; and that it was [Page 313]sufficient to give his Enemies the pretext they had so long expected, to seize his Per­son, as not believing that the Head of the Church, cou'd retrench a simple Monk from the Communion of the Church. They took their measures with the Pope, who sent them Forces. Savanarola's Monastery was broke open, after a wonderful resistance of his Friends, who ran in upon the noise. He was found in his Chamber at the Feet of a Crucifix, put into Prison, sev'n whole days spent in taking Informations, examining his Case, and drawing up his Indictment, du­ring which, he made a Commentary upon the Psalms of Penitence, which the most hardned cannot read, without some sense of Devotion. At last he was Condemn'd to the Flames, which he suffer'd with a Con­stancy seemingly Christian. Valeri, the Author of his ruin, meerly to gratifie his Lust of Revenge, was neither tunning e­nough, nor diligent enough to make his e­scape. Those who went to invest his Mansi­on, met him coming out, assassinated him, ran up to his Wife's apartment, serv'd her in like manner, and plunder'd the House.

The Florentines were no better enclin'd, in regard of the Medici; on the contrary, the aversion of Savanarola's Friends, who charg'd the Medici's with his Death, induc'd [Page 314]the Florentines to redouble and produce new Obstacles to their return. Giuliano de Medi­ci had taken refuge at Milan, where he ac­quir'd Lodovico Sforza's Friendship, and had engag'd him to espouse the Interests of his House. The Army Sforza had on foot be­gan to act in Tuscany, on that Design, with much Vigour and Success, when the Veneti­ans unmask'd their Intentions a little too soon, as to the Treaty they manag'd under­hand with the Inhabitants of Pisa, in order to receive their Hommage, on condition to cause the Siege of their Town to be rais'd, which the Florentines had then two years continued.

Sforza had no sooner the news, but he conceiv'd a jealousie: and the aggrandise­ment of the Venetians, whom he look'd on as his most formidable Adversaries, made him change Conduct towards the Medici's. He sent one of his Emissaries to the Floren­tines, to re-unite them among themselves; and his Forces, which laid Tuscany waste, had Orders to join those of Vitelli, and to press the Siege of Pisa. They help'd that Gene­ral to ruin the Army of Venice, that had un­advisedly hamper'd it self in the Apennine, and were the principal cause of the Accommo­dation Hercules, Duke of Ferrara, since ne­gotiated, and concluded between the two [Page 315]Common-wealths, on Condition, that that of Venice, shou'd abandon the City and Ter­ritory of Pisa, to the discretion of that of Florence.

The Recoyl of this Accord falling on the House of Medici, (because it re-doubl'd the Forces of its Enemies) made it despond of be­ing re-instated. The Eldest of the three Bro­thers, after having exhausted in the Fore-go­ing Attempts, the effects his Father had left him out of Florence, was going to serve in quality of Volunteer, in the Troops of King Lewis the 12th, who meditated the Conquest of the Dutchy of Milan. His younger, Giuliano, of a humour more se­date, with-drew to the Petrucci's, invested at that time with the principal Authority in Sienna, where he Couzen'd his time in Love and Gallantry. And the youngest taking up­on him the Title of Cardinal de Medici (tho' it was as yet the Mode to call Cardinals by the Name of their Benefices) went to travel throughout Europe with Giulio his Cozen, as yet neither passing for a Bastard nor Legi­timate, and a train of twelve Persons. He put himself into the disguise of a bare Cava­lier, to avoid Expence, and wou'd not suffer any difference to be observ'd between him­self and his Attendants. They were all mounted and clad alike, had taken Warlike [Page 316]Names, and every morning drew Lots, who shou'd be own'd for head of the Compa­ny, and give Orders that day. This Con­duct which they kept out of Precaution, furnish'd them with so many occasions for Mirth and Laughter, that the Cardinal since own'd, amid all the Delights of the Papacy, that in all his Life he had never been better Diverted, not but that new Traverses befell him from time to time; for they were known in the City of Ʋlme in Germany, from whence the Magistrate sent them under a Safe guard, to the Emperour Maximilian the 1st. But the Cardinal de Medici, having unvail'd his way of Travelling to that Prince, who still entertain'd a Respect for the memory of Lo­renzo, he was receiv'd magnificently by his Imperial Majesty, and got Letters of Re­commendation to Philip, Arch Duke of the Low Countries, that he might see the more commodiously the seventeen Provinces.

At his leaving of Flanders, he had a design to Embark at Calice, for England. But the Sea was so rough, that those of his Train inclin'd him to see Normandy, till it was Calm again. As he was at Havre de Grace, waiting for a Ship for his Passage, a French­man having born Arms in Italy, knew him, and went to discover him to the Governour of the place. The Governour stopp'd him [Page 317]with all his Retinue, and clapt 'em under Guards. Nothing did it avail the Cardinal de Medici, to declare his Name, and demand to enjoy the Priviledges of his Character; stay he must in Havre, till the King, then at Milan, had consented to his enlargement. Piero de Medici was happily with his Majesty, and serv'd for Warantee of his Brothers having no other Design in his Masquerade, than of Husbanding his Purse.

Thus the General of Normandy had order to write to the Governour of Havre, to set free the Cardinal de Medici, who chang'd his Purpose of going into England, and chose rather to cross France, in order to take Ship­ping at Thoulon, and make Sail into Italy. He saw all Curiosities on his way, and being seiz'd with a storm in the River of Genoua, it constrain'd him to put in at Savona.

There he found the Cardinal of St. Peter in Bonds, who had made it his Sanctuary a­gainst Pope Alexander the 6th. his irreconci­lable Enemy. St. Peter ad Vincula treated there his Brother, with all the Politeness natural to him, and wou'd needs have Giuli­ano de Medici, then beginning to wear the Cross of Rhodes, to be the third at Table. There they discours'd their Concerns with more Freedom, and less Reserve, than if they had known they were to be all three [Page 318]Popes, so little appearance was there of the vicissitude which occurred in their For­tune.

Cardinal de Medici return'd to Rome, un­der colour of attending upon the Pope, du­ring the Jubilee of the year 1500, just going to begin; but in reality, as having learnt that the Duke de Valentinois, the Pope's Son, had such Designs, as cou'd not speed, but by the re-instation of the Medici's. And in­deed this Duke, after having oppress'd by an Infinity of unheard of Crimes, all the Petty Soveraigns in Ʋmbria and Romagna, aspir'd to subdue the Republicks of Tuscany. And not being Potent enough to undertake to force them all at once, he pretended to strike up an Alliance with that of Florence, that she might help him to subdue that of Sienna. However, there was no likelihood of bringing her to it by Offices and Persuasions, the Florentines being too subtle and sagaci­ous, not to penetrate to what end they were to be Implements against Sienna. Thus they were to be induc'd to it out of Fear.

This was the Cause of Duke Valentino's receiving the Medici's into his Army, with all imaginable Civilities, and of his promi­sing them their re-instation. He drew near Florence with such brisk Troops, as made it not doubted, but he wou'd reduce it to [Page 319]strange Exigencies, when Piero de Soderini, Neri's Successor in the Office of Gonfalioniere, devis'd an Expedient which sav'd his Country. He went to find out the Ambassadour of France at Rome, and remonstrated to him so efficaciously the most Christian King's Inte­rest to maintain the popular Government at Florence, thereby to keep on Foot a League of Communication between the Realm of Naples, which his Majesty meant to Con­quer, and the Dutchy of Milan, which he had already in Possession, that the French Ambassadour press'd the Pope, to make his Son retire into the state of the Church.

The Pope, not daring at that time to deny the French, they being then too powerful in Italy, wrote to the Duke de Valentinois to decamp from off the Territory of Florence, Duke Valentino obey'd, as seeing the French wou'd constrain him to it, unless he did it rea­dily and with alacrity. But as he was the craftiest Man then living, he tore the Letter in pieces, without reading it out. He curst his Father, and declar'd he would not de­camp. Soderini took the hint, and apprehen­ded that all the Grimaces of the Duke de Va­lentinois only tended to hedge in Money, which he durst not demand for fear of offen­ding France, which Crown wou'd have com­pell'd him to refund. Now to elude his [Page 320]Pretension, there needed no more than ma­king semblance of not understanding his meaning; but as the stay of his Troops did more dammage in four and twenty hours, than the sum amounted to, with which he thought he wou'd be content; Soderini made no difficulty of offering it him, nor the Duke Valentinois of accepting it, and dis-lodging.

The following year, 1501, the Medici's made their fourth Essay on this Pretext, that the Florentines had caus'd their General Vitel­li to be beheaded, because that having clapt him up in Prison on suspition, found to be ill grounded, they fancy'd he was to be bereft of his Life, to hinder him from taking Re­venge. Vitelli, his Brother, had put himself in­to a posture of punishing so black an Ingrati­tude, and the Souldiers flock'd from all sides to second him. He brought an Army on foot, which wrought no less terror to the Florentine, than Duke Valentino's had done the year afore. And indeed Soderini had no sooner perceiv'd it, than that he took a journey into France, by which only the Tempest cou'd be laid. He obtain'd a Dispatch to the Governour of Milan, whom Lewis the 12th commanded, to compell Vitelli instantly to disarm, or march against him with all his Forces. Vi­telli having no Martialliz'd Troops, wou'd not stand the brunt, and so pleas'd the Flo­rentines, [Page 321]by his Retreat, that they Created So­derini perpetual Dictator.

The vexation this Created to the House of Medici, was so much the more reasonable, as that Soderini possess'd all the qualities ca­pable of obstructing their return into their Country, as long as the continuation of his Magistracy. He was Wise, Liberal, Mild, and Provident; never committed any Inju­stice; and though oblig'd to favour the Com­monalty, to whom he was indebted for his Dignity, he so carefully avoided disconten­ting the Nobles, that not any Gentleman had reason to complain of him, during his Administration. He Corresponded with the Court of Rome, by the means of the Cardinal his Brother. But, as he put his principal Confidence in the Protection of the French, he liv'd in such good Intelligence with the Cardinal d' Amboise, the Most Christian King's Prime Minister, that there must of necessity have happen'd a general Revolt in the Dutchy of Milan, afore the Republick of Florence cou'd change Face. Nevertheless, not only the Dutchy of Milan was then secure, but moreover France had the most powerful Ar­my in Italy, that had been seen there for se­veral Ages, in order to take the Kingdom of Naples from the Spaniards.

But what plung'd the Medici's quite in de­spair, [Page 322]was the misfortune which befell the Orsini's, on their account. This Warlike Family had engag'd it self to serve among the Troops, under Duke Valentino, after having fail'd re-instating that of Medici, its double Ally: and as this ill success had diminish'd nothing of their Amity, the Orsini's having discover'd, that their General treated with the Florentines, to deliver up Piero, Giuliano, and Cardinal de Medici, whom he had then in his Possession and Power; they being all three come to him upon his Word. They gave them notice of it by a Note, which ob­lig'd them to withdraw without taking leave; Duke Valentino, who expended much in Spies, was at length inform'd of the Cause, which had hindred him from earning a hun­dred thousand Crowns, that were already told out at Florence, in order to be giv'n him on that score. And as he had resolv'd, with the Consent and Connivance of his Father, to exterminate the most eminent Roman Fami­lies, he hasten'd to invite the Members of the Orsini Clann, to the Feast of Senegaglia, where they were so ill advis'd as almost all to meet there, to perish by a Perfidy well known to all the World.

Their Deaths put the last hand to the un­dermining all the hopes Piero de Medici had left for his Restauration, and so flatted his [Page 323]Spirits into a total Despondency, that from that time forward, he acted as a Man irreco­verably lost. He took Party in the French Army, a little afore its being dispers'd at the Passage of Garillan. He look'd upon that Rout, as an effect of the Disasters that haun­ted him in all places, and wou'd needs there finish his Life. Nor was it without Vio­lence; that some of his Friends, faithful to the last, got him to go with them aboard a Ves­sel, carrying Artillery, wherein he suffer'd Ship-wrack at the Mouth of the River, and was drown'd. His Brother the Cardinal re­ceiv'd the news of his Death at Rome, being repair'd thither, to Congratulate the Cardi­nal of St. Peter in Bonds, upon his advance­ment to the Popedom. He had met with a fainter Reception than he expected from St. Peter's Successour, after the protestations of Friendship they had mutually enterchang'd at Savona. But the impossibility of the good effect of any other Course, compell'd him to pay his Attendance, and make his Court to his Holiness.

Nevertheless, so little affinity was there in their Humours, that the Cardinal de Me­dici did quickly perceive, the Pope wou'd never have any Affection for his Person, how assiduous soever in his Devoirs, for that his Holiness had no other Inclination, than [Page 324]for Military Virtues, and only valu'd Men according as he found them enclin'd to War. Yet the Cardinal de Medici had no Talents, save for the Court, and for Intriguing, to which the Pope did not love that any one shou'd be addicted.

This is the Motive put the Cardinal de Me­dici upon contriving indirect means for his Preferment. That which did his business came from the Assiduity he paid to the Car­dinal-Nephew, call'd Galeotto, much about his Age. He had observ'd this young Car­dinal to have no Passion, save for Luxury, and to be only Charm'd with what was glit­tering to his Eyes. He felt in his Heart a like Disposition; and tho' he had not the means to indulge it in all its extent; yet, strain he did, to imitate, as much as possible this Cardinal Nephew, and resolv'd at the same time, to supply by Neatness and Po­liteness, what he wanted in abundance.

He found People who lent him Moneys, to make the bravest, gentilest Train; and the Equipage of Hunting, which he kept, had I know not what, so peculiar, and gallant, that bating two or three old Cardi­nals, whom it scandaliz'd, not a Person at Rome but esteem'd him the more. No place of the Town afforded better Eating and Treating than his House; for tho' he [Page 325]had not serv'd upon his Table, the prodigi­ous number and quantity of Dishes, which the Princes and Cardinals lov'd to pile and faggot upon theirs, the Nice found the Ra­goo's to be most exquisite upon Medici's Board, such a Faculty had the Patrons gay, facetious Humours, at gentilely supplying to Luxury. But what attracted most People, was his Chamberlain, Bibiana, whose Match had ne­ver been, for entertaining of Company. Well enough made was he of his Person, and re­tain'd nothing of the Village, his Birth-place, save the Name he bore.

His Wit so pregnant in Inventions, upon whatever matters apply'd to, that those who knew him intimately, averr'd him an inex­haustible Fountain of Joy. He made a plea­sing, handsome Reception to all People, had ever an hundred new Stories, for provoking Mirth and Laughter, without ever bolting ought, or Impious, or Low, or Immodest. Sometimes the Fancy took him in the midst of the Repast, to prepare Sauces, which ne­ver came into any Cooks head. He set about it, and ever perform'd to the gusts, and contentment of the Guests; or that he was Master of the Art of soothing Peoples Tastes, or that those who judg'd of his Performances, help'd to deceive their own Palates and Judg­ments. In a word, he still furnisht, after [Page 326]the meal was done, ingenious ways for Joy and Recreation, for a whole Afternoon to­gether.

Yet, in this, Bibiana's topping Wit did not consist, nor was it the most material Ser­vice that he did his Master. He had the knack to engage Persons to lend the Cardi­nal Money, without giving them Security for repayment, or furnishing them with other Mortgage, than the Scheme he had caus'd to be erected of the Cardinal de Medici's Nativity, which promis'd this Prelate im­mense Riches, and maintain'd he wou'd owe nothing at his Death, which prov'd true. But there was then so little shaddow of such a vicissitude, that the World cou'd not sufficiently admire his own Boldness, and his Creditors Credulity.

The Learned frequented the Cardinal de Medici's Palace on another Motive; for tho' the Library of his Family had been rifl'd, yet it had only lost the Manuscripts, which the King of England had caus'd to be bought of the French Souldiers. The rest clutch'd by the common People, and the Suizzers, were redeem'd at a low rate, by Persons affectio­nate, to the House of Medici, and restor'd to the Cardinal, by Soderini's Connivance, he being over-joy'd that he drew from Florence, all to him belonging, that he might have [Page 327]no pretence left for returning thither. The Cardinal, after having plac'd conveniently his Manuscripts, invited Men of Learning to come study in his Palace. They were civilly receiv'd, Persons were at hand capable of solving their difficulties; Conferences were weekly held, at which the Cardinal often assisted, and spoke in his turn with a gracefulness, as Charm'd all his Auditors.

But, as his Predominant Passion was Mu­sick, and as he Sung, and Compos'd to admi­ration, Consorts were kept, in which the most Expert endeavour'd to acquire or aug­ment their Repute. Thus his Home being become the most curious Retreat in Rome, the Cardinal Nephew meeting only in Me­dici's Palace, his Darling Diversions, resor­ted thither often, and finding the Master's Humour conformable to his own, struck up with him a strict Union and Friendship. He told his Uncle, that the Esteem he enter­tain'd for the Cardinal de Medici, commenc'd from a Discourse he had heard him make, to shew how a Worthy Man never wants any thing, provided he is not first wanting to himself. And the mutual tye of these two Cardinals became so strong, that the Popes Nephew engag'd to promote, by all possible means, Cardinal de Medici's Election, when the Holy See shou'd fall vacant. But he [Page 328]knew not of his dying before his Uncle, and that he shou'd not be in a condition to per­form his Promise. A burning Fever, three years after, cropt him off in the Flower of his Age. His death so sensibly afflicted Cardi­nal de Medici, that he wou'd have been dis­consolate, but for an advantage he thence de­riv'd, beyond his Expectation.

The Pope, who had an extraordinary fondness for his Nephew, fell to cherish such things as cou'd sweeten the memory of him, and became more familiar with Cardinal de Medici. He wou'd needs have him tell him what they had perform'd together most gal­lant, and suffer'd him insensibly to make some Digressions upon the Restauration of his Family: Nay, he one day told him, he might endeavour it without being disown'd, provided he did not expose his Purple, or the Authority of the Holy See. And the Car­dinal, who cou'd not then expect to obtain any thing more, form'd in Florence a new Party, by the help of his youngest Sister. Her Name, Lucretia, and Nature had en­dow'd her with so little Beauty, as put her under the constraint of Wedding Giacopo Sal­vieti, a Person nor the Chief, nor the Rich­est of his Family; but in recompence, she abounded so in Wit, that she insinuated her self into the good Humour of all that knew [Page 329]her. She prov'd extraordinary pregnant, and the multitude of her Children, made her afraid of one day wanting necessaries for their subsistence. The means to provide a­gainst such a Calamity, was to contribute (as much as in her lay) to the re-establishment of her Brothers, but she met very great Obsta­cles in her pursuit of this Design For her Husband had been one of Savanarola's In­timates, and his mind was still prejudic'd with the Maximes of that Priest. However, as there is hardly any thing, but what Wo­men obtain from those who love them, when they persevere in their colloguing Importunities, Lucretia de Medici at last, entic'd Salvieti to act obliquely and a­gainst his own Interests and Sentiments, and to solicite under-hand, the calling back of a Family, which he foresaw must needs, one day, bereave his Country of its Free­dom.

Nevertheless, he went so craftily to Work, as gave not the least hold on him; for whereas those who had gone before him in this Project, had declar'd it openly, he kept his Game close, and only Caball'd in such manner, as to discredit Soderini, and thwart all he aim'd at having done. He found most of the Nobles in the Disposition he desir'd, and in three Months space, hamper'd the Dictator [Page 330]in such a Perplexity, that any other than he, wou'd have despair'd of getting rid of. The Dictator proposed not any Person to the mind of that Critical Faction. Whatever a Mans Abilities might be, he was ever put by, when propos'd by Soderini; and if any one suddenly allow'd of, it was such an one as of whom they hop'd suddenly to have oc­casion to make Complaints, so to reject up­on the Government, the Faults he commit­ted. The Dictators best actions were ill interpreted, and the least aggravated be­yond probability. They tang'd the Good, and added to the Bad, that so they might have the more dangerous effects; but all this was only Froth of the Sea against a Rock.

Soderini only confronted Patience against so many Contradictions; but this Patience being ever equal, broak and surmounted, at the long run, all that jostl'd it. He used this address, of whose Knowledge, it would be a Crime to rob the Reader. He had still fresh Men to present in the room of those, a­gainst whom Salvieti and his Caball had past the Exclusion, and the Merit of those Men so Conspicuous, that the Malignity wou'd have been too palpable in rejecting them. They, as soon as in Employment, were most peculiarly solicitous to commit no Faults, as seeing themselves too narrowly [Page 331]watcht; and when they had tript and blun­ [...]er'd, they chose rather to be their own Accusers in Publick, than give occasion to their Adversaries, to heighten their Failings, by Malevolent Calumnies and Impeach­ments.

Soderini protected them, on his part, with an ingenious firmness; he ever gave the People pertinent Reasons for his Conduct; he kept under-hand credible Agents enow a­mong the Populace, to inform him of News, according as they were buzz'd about; and laying down for Principle, that nothing could alter the Government of Florence, as long as the French were Potent in Italy. He maintain'd his good Understanding with the Majesty of France his Ministers, and left Vulgar Concernes to take their wonted course. And indeed, tho' Cardinal de Me­dici lay still at lurch, and the number of his Friends augmented daily at Florence, forrc'd was he to wait for a stronger Machine than his own, to stagger the Foundation of Soderini's Greatness.

Pope Giulio having banish'd from his Heart the Inclination he had fo­ster'd for France, above thirty years toge­ther, became its greatest Enemy, and graspt at nothing less, than the recovering from that Crown, all it held beyond the Alpes. [Page 332]To execute so magnanimous a Project, not a more fitting Minister had he, than the Car­dinal de Medici, as being most concern'd in the Design, and the Pope fixt his Eyes on him to be its principal Instrument, by Crea­ting him Legate of Bologna. The Cardinal de Medici accepted this Commission, rather to evade the Duns and Importunities of his Creditors, beginning to persecute him, than out of any prospect he had of Success. In a few days after his Arrival at Bologna, he perform'd an important piece of Service to the Ecclesiastical State, by discovering a Par­ty, framing to restore the Bentivogli's to the Possession of that agreeable City. Then he fell to observing Soderini, who seeing France embroil'd with the Church, caus'd the Flo­rentines to declare in favour of the Most Christian King, tho' he well enough foresaw the extraordinary accumulation of Trou­bles he was going to draw upon his Back.

The French not having found a Holiness hardy enough to thwart them directly, since Boniface the 8th, who had been so unsuccess­ful in so doing, shew'd at first an irresolution, as redoubled their enemies Courage, then perceiving their fault, fell of a sudden into the other extremity, which consisted in keeping no more measures with the Pope. They ac­cus'd him of having ascended the Throne of [Page 333]Saint Peter, by two irregular ways, those of Symony and Fraud. To justifie the Simo­ny, they instanc'd the Benefices and Legati­ons promis'd in the Conclave, and giv'n af­ter the Election to the Cardinals, Heads of the Faction, and specify'd the sums of Mo­ney which the other Cardinals had receiv'd for the price of their Suffrages.

To lay open the deceipt, demonstrated it was to the same Pope, that the Spanish Car­dinals being ingag'd by Oath, to give their Votes only for him who shou'd be propos'd to them by Duke Valentino; the Cardi­nal of St. Peter in Bonds, that Duke's sworn Enemy, had him persuaded, by suborned Persons, into a Belief of his being his Father; that he had had Commerce with his Mother, at the time she seem'd to abandon her self only to Cardinal Borgia, afterwards Alex­ander the 6th, that the jealousie this same Borgia had conceiv'd of him, had been the only cause of the Persecution he made him suffer, for above ten years together; but now the thing in hand, being the Creating another Pope, if he'd favour his Promotion, he'd treat him as his Son. Duke Valentino crediting what had been told him under the Rose, gave so far way, as to consent, that the Cardinals of the Faction shou'd Elect St. Pe­ter in Bonds, who fail'd not immediately af­ter [Page 334]to divest him of all Romagna and Ʋn­bria, instead of owning him for his Son.

In process of these Mysteries, which the French openly reveal'd, they form'd a Party of eight Cardinals, the most considerable of the Sacred Colledge. Dean Carvaial was one, upon a Promise made him, of chusing him, after Giulio was deposed. And San Se­verino, who, having ever been a declared Par­tizan for France, thought it an Infamy to a­bandon that Crown, in a Conjuncture, when the Pope was the Aggressor: but the most esteem'd of all, was the Cardinal Soderini, Brother to the perpetual Dictator of Flo­rence.

This Prelate, in the common vogue, had all the qualities requisite to the being a Pope. Learned, Serious, Bold, and Staid in all his actions, had ever liv'd in such sort, as that he cou'd be upbraided with nothing of In­continency, dishonouring Giulio's Papacy. And the severity of Life he affected, gave room to hope, that, when Pope, he wou'd usefully labour to the reformation of Man­ners. Not but that he had two Infirmities capa­ble of balancing so many Virtues, namely, Ambition, and Avarice; but he mask'd them with so many Precautions, that they only seem'd a loftiness of Soul, and an inclinati­on to Thriftiness, which all the Florentines [Page 335] [...]d the imputation of bringing from their [...]others Womb. The consideration of his [...]other, and his own Merits, made France [...]ve him a greater share in its Concerns, [...]an to the other sev'n of the Faction. And [...]s their Interests were inseparable, France had most influence in all to him propos'd. However, the subtilty of his Wit, had made [...]im discover a way, he judg'd infallible, for [...]he attaining his aim, if it appear'd he stood Neuter: For, if France had the advantage, [...]d the Pope depos'd, it wou'd be oblig'd to [...]t him in his room, as not being able to [...]nd any Subject in the Sacred Colledge, in whom that Crown cou'd put so much Con­ [...]ence, as in him: and if the Pope remain'd Conquerour, the firmness he shou'd have ex­ [...]ted, by remaining with his Holiness (tho' [...]ll his Relations and Friends were in the Ad­verse Party) wou'd serve him for a strong Recommendation in the future Conclave. Upon this Chimerical Ratiocination, Car­ [...]inal Soderini gave the French King's Mini­ [...]ers, in Italy, to understand, and persuaded [...]em, that they must leave, at least, a Trim­ [...]ing Cardinal, of their Faction, at Rome, to [...]ave an eye to Giulio's Conduct, and to give [...]uch true Advices, as that they might afford [...]hem Credence, without fearing to be mista­ [...]en. Then he offer'd to be the Man, who [Page 336]shou'd act so dangerous and difficult a part Taken, was he, at his word, as imagining the bare Zeal he had for France, made him say it. Thus Giulio being departed Rome, to go to Bologna, the seven Cardinals left him on the Road, and gave out, that their Inten­tion was to hold a Council, after the Exam­ple of that of Constance, for the reforming in it the Church, in its Head and in its Mem­bers. They wanted, for this purpose, a City, on the one side not too far remote from the Theatre of War, and on the other, safe from Surprize. And S [...]erini was desir'd to lend them that of Pisa. He sufficiently foresaw, that if he did so, he shou'd render the Pope his irreconciliable Adversary, and give a plau­sible Pretext to other his Enemies, to decry his Administration. Nevertheless, he did not one moment hesitare to grant it, whe­ther the Demand seem'd to him equally just and necessary, or that he was already too far engag'd to go back.

Thus the Council was conven'd at Pisa And the Pope, a Pretender to Intrepidity, dreaded it at first; but was re-incourag'd by Antonio de Monte, the famous Lawyer, whom he had made Cardinal at the first Promoti­on. This Monté represented to him, tha [...] two notable Flaws were in the Convocation of the seven Cardinals; one, That the term [Page 337]of four Months, therein prescrib'd to all Bi­shops in Christendom, to come thither, was too short; and the other, the City of Pisa. Whereupon he exhorted the Pope to avail himself of these two Faults, not by shunning and declining a Council, which wou'd render him Criminal, in the Opinion of most of the Faithful; but by Convening another Coun­cil, in a place he was Master of, and where, by consequence, nothing cou'd be decided to his Prejudice. The Pope follow'd his Advice, [...]nd call'd, on his side, a Council for the year following, 1513, at Rome, in the Church of Lateran. This Action maintain'd Giulio in the Pontificate, by dividing the Believers into the uncertainty, of deferring to the one or other Council. Cardinal de Medici made [...]dmirable advantage of this, to recon­cile, in Tuscany, his Friends with those who cou'd not brook that the seven Male­content Cardinals shou'd draw up the Popes Process. He put so many Men in Arms that the Garrison of Florence, which guarded the Council, was not sufficient to Ward and Target it from insult.

The Council wrote their Distress to the Most Christian King's Ministers, in the Dutchy of Milan, who sent them immediately, with M. de Lautrec, four hundred Men at Arms, the briskest of the [Page 338] French Army. This re-inforcement gave the House of Medici's Friends the occasion▪ they had so long waited for, to Spirit from Soderini's Party, the common People of Florence. Their Emissaries made their Com­plaints ring from Quarter to Quarter, how Soderini, that perpetual Dictator, who boasted his being so passionate for the wellfare of his Country, yet made no scruple of delivering up to Strangers, a City, which the Floren­tines had not reduc'd, till after a War of eigh­teen years.

As the common People of Florence had been furiously Cock-a-hoop and Passionate, to see those of Pisa reduced under their Laws, the bare apprehension of Lautrec's setting them again at liberty, though false, cancell'd the Affection they had for Soderini▪ This change render'd the Nobility more bold, and made them write to the Friends they had in Pisa, that they shou'd in no wise brook the French to be strongest in that place. There needed no more to foment a Sedition, from whence the Pope, and the House of Medici derived great advantages. The Offi­cers of the Florentine Garrison, at Pisa, after having represented to their own Souldiers, that their Interests, and the Honour of the [...] Country, were concern'd, to be the only Guards to the Council, they reviv'd the jea­lousie [Page 339]of the Citizens, by asking them in way of Raillery, whether it was to try the Vir­tue of their Wives and Daughters, that they Quarter'd the French in their Houses. Thus the first Contest that happen'd degene­ [...]ted into a horrible tumult. The Citizens and Dead-payes nabb'd the French at una­wares, cut 'em in pieces, and Lautrec him­self had there lost his Life, but for the gene­rosity of the Magistrates Son, who disen­gag'd him from the midst of a Seditious Rout, by whom he was surrounded.

The Council having understood the Hub­bub to be general, and that the French ply'd and yielded ground, were under apprehensi­ons that the Seditious might deliver them to the Pope, and as there were no hopes for Mercy, if it so happen'd, it dissolv'd it self, and each Member of it betook himself to his [...]eels, flying that way where his wounded [...]agination directed him for safety. The se­ [...]n Cardinals never drew Bit, till they were [...] the Dutchy of Milan; and the Sedition was appeas'd as soon as Pisa was clear'd of Strangers. Soderini had too much experi­ [...]ce, not to know the Check his Authority [...]eceiv'd, by so sudden and so eas [...] a Revolu­ [...]ion. He set about repairing it. And fain [...]ou'd he have persuaded the Cardinals and [...]ishops to return to Pisa, where he offer'd to [Page 340]have them guarded by Troops Levied in Tuscany, Trusty and Loyal to him; but he talk'd to People, whom Fear had bereft of their Judgment.

Soderini made the Proposal of it; but Cardinal de Medici's Friends, having had the leasure to make their Caball, treated it as ri­diculous. The People were also of Opinion, it to be in no wise for their safety, to incur the Displeasure of the Court of Rome, nor expose themselves to the thunder of the Va­tican; and the Assembly broke up, without coming to any Result. Thus the Council was compell'd, upon the Adjournment, to continue its Sessions at Milan, while the Ar­mies acted on either side, to support and to destroy it.

The Cardinal de Medici, being Legate in that of the League form'd for the Pope, caus'd Siege to be laid to Bologna, where the Bentivoglii's were newly re-instated. Gasto [...] de Foix relieved this place, by the quickest and boldest Action recorded in History, and fought the Battel of Ravenna, where the Confederate Army was defeated. The Car­dinal Legate being taken Prisoner in tha [...] Action, go [...]d luck wou'd have it, that h [...] fell into the hands of Cardinal da san Severi­no, performing the same Function in th [...] French Camp. Their ancient Friendshi [...] [Page 341]was renew'd in that Conjuncture; and san Severino, more a Souldier than a Politician, permitted Medici to send a Gentleman to Ce­sana; whither his Cousin Giulio, who alrea­dy took upon him the Title of the Comman­der de Medici, had made his escape. This Gentleman carry'd Giulio a safe Conduct, to go and come to the French Leaguer in safety.

The Cardinal da san Severino imagin'd, he of Medici had no other drift, than to send his Cousin to Rome, there to solicite his Ransom, but this prov'd a mistake: For the Cardinal de Medici foreseeing the Consternation, the loss of the Battel wou'd occasion in Rome, intended to re-incourage the Pope, by giving him to understand, by a Man of Credence, such an one as the Commander, That the Concerns of the Conquerours were in a worse Posture, than those of his Holiness. And indeed, the Commander's Journey was the principal Remedy of the Popes Af­fairs. His Holiness being just upon the point of flying from Rome, and going to em­bark at Ostia, as having newly discover'd, that the Ʋrsini's were in treaty with the [...]rench to take him, and lead him by main force to the Council.

The certain advices the Commander brought, of the Feebleness of the French, and [Page 342]the Harangue he made of it in full Consistory, where the Pope wou'd have him heard, caus'd the Resolution of scampering, to be chang'd into that of setting the Army again on foot. The Expedient broach'd by Car­dinal de Medici, in his Letter for the com­pelling the French Troops to disband, was approv'd in all points, and Merits being known.

He demanded an absolute Power to be sent him, to absolve the French, who had fought at Ravenna, without specifying the fruit he pretended to reap thereby, and the Brief accordingly was forthwith expedited. The Commander carried it to the Cardinal de Medici, who had been Conducted to Mi­lan; and the Cardinal was industrious to get it rumor'd among the Souldiers. Such as had tenderness of Conscience, flock'd in Crowds to receive Absolution; and as the only Pennance impos'd on them, was not to fall any more into the same Fault, the Com­panies began to be very thin and clear in a few days. There happen'd another incon­venience, little less to be fear'd; for those who had been absolv'd, valuing themselves, upon despising the Council, receiv'd, with hissings, the Citations made to the Pope, at the Door of the great Church. From hence proceeded the Intreaties, which the [Page 343]Council made to the Most Christian King's Ministers, to cause the Cardinal de Medici to pass the Alpes, which they did not grant, till constrain'd thereto. And indeed the Ge­neral of Normandy, Intendant of the French Army, having disbanded almost all the In­fantry, out of an unseasonable piece of Thrift, the Forces of the League being re­establish'd, by a reinforcement of sixteen thousand Suizzers, which the Bishop of Sion had Leavy'd upon his own Credit, in fa­vour of the Pope, drew near the Milanese with such Alacrity and Boldness, as made the Fathers of the Council judge they were not in safety, in the Capital City of that Dutchy. They had permission giv'n them to go into France, and the same Troops, which serv'd them for Convoy, had order to Conduct thither the Cardinal de Medici. This plung'd that Pre­late into so great a Melancholly, so much the deeper bottom'd, in that he cou'd ex­pect no less, than to languish in an eternal imprisonment, if he pass'd the Alpes: for as his Quality, and the Function he perform'd, in the moment of his taking, induc'd those who had him, to set his Ransome at an ex­cessive Price, and, that besides, his House was so absolutely Ruin'd, that it had no other recovery, save in his Person. The Pope, whose humour, prone to Tenaciousness, be­ing [Page 344]not press'd by any Potentate to redeem him, wou'd never do it of his own accord; and the Cardinals Consideration coming to diminish, a thing inevitable, according as he shou'd remain longer in Prison, in pro­cess of time they wou'd make no more ac­count of him, than of a Man in his Grave.

This Motive determin'd him, by all the means possible, to seek the occasion of ma­king his escape, afore constrain'd to pass the Alpes. He conferr'd about it with the Abbot Bongalle, taken and left with him, in quality of Chamberlain, and their Resolve was, the indeavouring to Corrupt some or o­ther to attempt their rescue. They had, for this purpose, the Money giv'n them, for Certificates of Absolution, and the sum sufficiently considerable; the number of those demanding those Certificates, being so great, that the Cardinal and his Servants had been constrain'd to drudge at it Day and Night, during their abode at Milan. They had also some Rings, which the generous Countess Bianca Rangoni had accomodated them withall, in their passage thro' Bologna, and the Cardinal de Medici had, all his Life long, so tender an acknowledgment for this Obligation that he thought himself still indebted to that fair Lady, after having [Page 345]made one of her Sons Cardinal, and the o­ther General of the Armies of the Church. But he met with, on the way, so few Per­sons proper for the perpetrating his Design, that he arriv'd on the brink of the Po, in the Territory of Florence. The Fathers of the Council still trembling, were obstinately earnest to pass this River that same Evening, so to put it between them, and the Popes Men, whom they fancy'd at their heels. They found Boats ready, and in they went. But the Cardinal de Medici dreaded passing it, through a contrary Sentiment; for he fore­saw, that after his Passage, no more means wou'd there be for his escape. The anxiety he lay under, gave him the grudging of a Fever, which serv'd him for a pretext to ask of the Souldiers, who staid about him, the permission of passing the Night in the Village of Carro, standing upon the River, on the Milan side.

Two things made them not deny him this Request; the one, that the Mareschal de Tri­mulee had ordered they shou'd use him with due Respect, and all possible Civility; the other, that the Vineyards of Carro being much esteem'd, the Souldiers not attending the Fathers of the Council, did not want much entreaty to sup there. Thus Cardinal de Medici was left in the Village; and the [Page 346]Abbot Bongalle, after having had him put to Bed, and taken with him his Mo­ney and Jewels, went to find out a Gentle­man of his acquaintance, call'd Rinaldo Zacti, at his Castle not far distant. This Zacti was an Old Cavalier, had serv'd till grown hoary in his Armour, and did not retire home, till af­ter the French, whom he hated, were become Masters of the Dutchy of Milan; he had made semblance of accomodating himself with them, that he might enjoy in quiet, the beauteous Lands he possess'd along the Po; but, in reality, only waited for an occasion to injure them, without ruining himself. He receiv'd very civilly the Abbot Bongalle, and testify'd much joy at the news he told him, that (according to all appearances) the French were going to be driven out of Italy. Bongalle finding him in so favourable a dispo­sition, disclos'd his Design, withall proposing Cardinal de Medici's Rescue, after having prov'd this Cardinal to be the Worthiest Member of the Sacred Colledge, and so in reason to be the most consider'd of those, who pretended to the Papacy. Nevertheless, they were leading him into France, where sure he was of ending his days in the same Pri­son, wherein Lodovico Sforza died at ten years end, if not suddenly snatcht from a score of Drunkards, who began to guzzle [Page 347]and drown their Senses in the Inn of Carro. The remembrance of Lodovico Sforza, whose Menial Servant Zacti had been, reviv'd his aversion to France, and the easiness of saving the Cardinal de Medici, flusht him with the desire.

Nevertheless, he did not positively en­gage, and gave no other promise to the Ab­bot Bongalle, but of going to Communicate the business to a Gentleman, call'd Visimbar­di, his Neighbour and intimate. Friend, tho' he had sided with France. That if Visim­bardi wou'd be of the Party, they two to­gether shou'd be strong enough, with their Domesticks, to rescue the Cardinal de Medi­ci, and wou'd not fail of undertaking it; but if that Gentleman refus'd him his Assi­stance, it was not to be hoped he wou'd hazzard alone, a Rescue of that Conse­quence.

The Abbot Bongalle was little satisfy'd, with seeing the liberty of his Patron remitted to the Caprice of a Man of a contrary Facti­on. However comply'd, for want of a better Expedient, and only askt Zacti, by what means he might know if Visimbardi wou'd second him, or not. Zacti reply'd, that if this Gentleman did not espouse the un­dertaking, no news were from him to be ex­pected, but that if he did, he wou'd send him [Page 348]word, for a token, by a young Boy, that all was ready. Bongalle return'd to Cardinal de Medici, to render him an account of what he had done, and gave him not so much Hope as Fear. Zacti, on his side, found Vi­simbardi far from the design, he meant to inspire into him. Nevertheless, he re­presented to him with so much efficacy, that affairs were ruin'd, that no measures were to be kept with People flying and scampering, and that Wisdom requir'd the reconciling ones self with the Conquerours, by rendring them an eminent piece of Service, that Vi­simbardi gave way, and promis'd Zacti to meet him about one a Clock at Night, with all the Friends and Domesticks he could get together.

Zacti return'd home to make ready, and commanded a young Boy to go to the Inn of Carro, ask for the Abbot Bongalle, and tell him, all was ready. The Lad, on the way, forgot half of his Commission, and remembred nothing more, when come to the Inn, save asking to speak with the Abbot, without ad­ding any proper name: The Person the Child spoke to, was a French Pedee, who hearing him mention an Abbot, imagin'd him to be the same, to whose care the Fathers of the Council, upon their passing the Po, had recommended the Cardinal de [Page 349]Medici. They had conjur'd him not to suf­fer him out of sight, and to make him pass the River very early; for that intent the Souldiers of the Guard had a most peculiar Order to obey him.

The French Boy calls this Abbot; and the Child, not knowing Bongalle, believ'd it to be the same then present, thought he was to do his Message, and tell him, All was rea­dy. Then wou'd the Lad have gone his ways, but the Abbot he had spoken to, not knowing what he meant, staid him, and askt him several questions, which he did not so handsomly clear, tho' he pretended to come from a poor Peasant, whom he call'd his Fa­ther, but that the French Abbot suspected some Mystery.

He commanded the Souldiers to redouble their Vigilance, for the guard of their Priso­ner, and went himself to find out the Ferry. Men that they might make ready to carry over the Cardinal at break of Day, while the Cardinal and his Chamberlain were un­der strange disquiets. As they had had no inkling of the little Boys adventure, they conceiv'd Zacti to have fail'd in his word to them, or that Visimbardi refus'd to second him. They despair'd of their delivery, after having spent the Night without hearing any Noise, or receiving any Notice. And it was [Page 350]not so much with a set design, as through a kind of retchlesness, which Persons fall in when destitute of all hopes, that the Cardi­nal de Medici was still musing in his Bed, when summon'd to make ready to pass the River. Up got he, mounted his Mule, gave his Benediction to the Passengers, thronging to receive it at the Inn door, and so suffer'd them to lead him where they listed.

The two fore Feet of his Mule were alrea­dy in the Boat, when he heard a noise behind him, which made him turn his head. 'Twas Zacti with Visimbardi, who came full Gal­lop, crying. Liberty. They surrounded the Cardinal to preserve him from danger, du­ring the Conflict, which they expected to be sharp; but the French seeing the March une­qual, chose rather to abandon a Prisoner, whom it was no longer possible for them to keep, and throw themselves into the Boat, just at hand, than to engage in a Combat, to them unprofitable, even tho' attended with Success.

Thus Zacti and his Companion remain'd Masters of the Cardinal's Person, and not daring to take him home to their own Houses where they expected search to be made; Vi­simbardi urg'd the Conducting him to Barna­bo Malaspino's Castle, as being a place near e­nough the State of Genoua, for them there [Page 351]to take Refuge, in case of pursuit. Malespi­na being their Friend, at first made them a kind Reception; but after they had told him their business, and shew'd him the Cardinal de Medici, then in disguise, and passing only for a Cavalier of their Train; then Malespina put on a more serious look, remonstrated to them their Imprudence, in having ventur'd their Lives and Fortunes, to save a Person, to them indifferent; accus'd them of coming only to his House, to render him the Com­plice of their Crime, and using them as E­nemies, sent them surlily away, after ha­ving taken from them the Cardinal de Medici,

He shut up the Cardinal in a Tennis-Court, till such time as he had receiv'd directi­ons from the Mareschal Trimulee, Governour of Milan, for France, what course to take with the Prisoner Fortune had put into his Hands. Trimulee receiv'd Malespina's Courier in the very time, that two French Souldiers, of the number of those who had been push'd by the Confederate Army at the Pass of Mincio, had put Milan into a Consternation, by di­vulging, that the Enemy wou'd be sudden­ly at the Gates. The mischief prov'd much greater than reported, for that the French Army, after this defeat, despairing of re­taining Milan, march'd away towards the Alpes: So as Trimulee had no more mea­sures [Page 352]to keep with People that abandon'd him, notwithstanding he had sacrific'd all for them. He wrote a Letter to Malespina, to advise him to make a Friend of the Car­dinal de Medici, by letting him go, provided he did it with such Cautions, as not to seem the having contributed to his Escape.

Malespina follow'd this Council, and went by night to the Cardinal de Medici, in the Tennis-Court, let him know the importance of the Service he meant to do him, and agreed with him that one of his Servants should open the door, and keep him Company, that Malespi­na might rumour it abroad, the Cardinal had Corrupted him. The thing pass'd as projected; but the Cardinal went not far without falling into the Banditti's hands, who dismounted him, took what Money he had, and kill'd Ma­lespina's Servant for standing on his defence Then the Cardinal wander'd alone up and down the Fields, without wisting where he was, till he met a Curate, who knowing him led him into his Presbytery, made him the best Cheer he cou'd, and lent him his Mare to carry him as far as Plaisanza.

He arriv'd at that City a moment after it had put it self, of its own proper motion, under the Popes Obedience; insomuch that the Cardinal de Medici, who entred in disguised laid hold of the Conjuncture to make him [Page 353]self known, and took upon him again the Badges of his Legation. He dispatcht the most urgent affairs, and departed immediately after for Bologna, with a sufficient Convoy. There he found the Inhabitants busy'd with dri­ving out the Bentivoglii's, and in setting up the Arms of the Church. They accepted him for their Governour, till the Pope shou'd otherwise Decree. He receiv'd the Bull of it with so much the more joy, as that Fortune cou'd not send him an Employ more commodious, to lye at catch for his Families re-establishment in Florence. And indeed the Deputies of the Pope, of the King of Spain, and of Italy, being assemb­led at Mantoua, to regulate the Revenge to be inflicted on those who had assisted the French; Giuliano de Medici being sent thi­ther by the Cardinal his Brother, demanded permission to return into his Country. So­derini had foreseen this Request, and dis­patcht his Brother to Mantoua, to disappoint it. Thus the affair being of Consequence, and the Parties present, they were allow'd to debate their Pretensions in Publick, be­fore the Deputies of the League.

Giuliano de Medici maintain'd, that the Florentines ought to be treated as Distur­bers of the Peace of Italy; and undergo the Penalties ordain'd by the Roman Law, [Page 354]against the Disserters of the common Cause, seeing they had sent Succours to the assi­stance of the French, in the Land of Milan. Soderini's Brother, being a great Lawyer answer'd pertinently to the Accusation, and render'd it ridiculous. He own'd the point in issue, but show'd a Treaty the Floren­tines had concluded, long afore, with the French, for the giving one another mutually a limitted Succours, if needed by Tuscany on one side, and the Dutchy of Milan on the other.

He added, that the Spaniards, holding the first Rank in Italy, after the Pope, had so little thought this Treaty prejudicial to them, in what related to the Kingdom of Naples, that the Republick of Florence had thereunto consented. And how it was, by virtue of this Treaty, that the Great Captain had re­ceiv'd Cavalry from Florence, when he dis­puted the Pass at Garillan; that with excep­tion to the Articles stipulated in those two Treaties, the Florentines had inviolably ob­serv'd the Neutrality, that their Colours had neither been unfolded in the Army of Gaston de Foix, nor in that of Marshal de la Palice, and that the two Parties had been equally re­ceiv'd and furnish'd with Provisions, in their passage through Tuscany.

These Reasons were concluding, princi­pally in regard of the Spaniards, the princi­pal [Page 355]Judges in the Case. And 'tis not doub­ted, but that Soderini's Brother haid gain'd his Cause, if he had spoke before Judges as dis-interessed, as they were Intelligent. But as they had to do with Souldiers, who knew not how to do Justice, without thereby rea­ping Profit, one of his Friends, advis'd him under-hand, not to trust so absolutely in the merits of his Cause, that this shou'd hinder him from distributing, in the Assembly, the Gold and Silver he had brought along from Florence. He slighted the Advice, and repartee'd, that if he did it, his Brother wou'd have reason to tax him with Prodigality, and upbraid him, that he had had a very ill Opinion of his Cause, since he had offer'd to Corrupt his Judges.

Giuliano de Medici did not follow the same Course, and pour'd out whole handfuls of Gold, which the Cardinal his Brother had borrow'd from the principal Citizens of Bo­logna. The Assembly was almost wholly compos'd of Deputies of the States of Italy, and of Spanish Colonels, who ha­ving lost their Equipages, at the Battel of Ra­venna, were contriving to set themselves up again, and were not affected with the Gene­rous Sentiments, that wou'd have made Im­pression upon the Vice-Roy of Naples, and the Governour of Milan, who had sent them. [Page 356]Insomuch that Giuliano de Medici taking them by their weak side, persuaded them, that the affair in agitation, was a thing of Grace, and not of Justice, and got from them a Sentence, in form of Proscription, a­gainst the Republick of Florence, tho' they had declar'd, two hours afore, to Soderini's Brother, that nothing cou'd be more unjust, than the Pretentions of the Medici.

Soderini having receiv'd the News of it, did not lose time, in declaming against his Brother's Imprudence and Parcimony. He took out what was most precious in the Pub­lick Treasury, and putting it into the Hands of his principal Confident, call'd Giovanni Gia­copo Albizzi, sent him to Raymond of Cardon­na, Vice-Roy of Naples, to indeavour, by all means, the obstructing the Execution of the Sentence. Cardonna was a Man not of a humour to violate Equity, when the Orders of the Catholick King, his Master, did not en­force him to it. He had disapprov'd the Result of the Assembly of Mantoua, and made so kind a Reception to Soderini's Envoy, as conceiv'd a jealousie in the Cardinal de Me­dici, who had spyes about that Vice-King, and made him not doubt, but that he wou'd thwart them, if the affair depended on him. And nevertheless, easie was it to see that he wou'd be Master of the business, in case the [Page 357]least protracted. Wherefore necessary was it to induce those who had newly proscrib'd the Florentines to depart immediately, to go themselves execute the Proscription, and Giu­liano de Medici dispos'd them to it, by new Presents. The Duke of Attio and Petro de Padillo, who had been Corrupted, march'd thi­ther the Spanish Infantry, and the Pope's Troops had orders to follow them.

The Duke of Ʋrbin, the Pope's Nephew, Commanding these Forces, had more Inte­rest to buoy up Soderini, who cou'd not in­jure him, than re-establish those who did not love him. He practis'd all imaginable shifts, to dispense his obeying the Pope, his Uncle, he caus'd the Artillery to be nail'd, and wou'd needs imploy his Souldiers in some other expedition. But the Orsini's led him thither against his will, and the Spaniards being engag'd in the Siege of Prato, where they met with a vigorous Defence; two Foot Souldiers observ'd a Defect in the Wall, and shew'd it to their Companions, who there forc'd the Place. All in it underwent Fire and Sword; and the news being carry'd to Florence, occasion'd there a pannick Terror. To remedy which, Soderini went himself to the Houses, and had those seiz'd whom he suspected of Correspondence with the Medi­ci. The Tumult increasing, compell'd him to retire from the Guild-Hall to his own [Page 358]House, where, putting on a disguise, he fled into Dalmatia.

The Medici's made their entrance into Florence, as in Triumph, and seizing on the Publick Treasure, distributed the better part of it to the Troops that follow'd them, and paid their Debts with the rest. They dispos'd of the Government, according to their Fancy, and convening the People, oblig'd them to abolish all that had been done, during the eighteen years their Exile had lasted. Then they presented to them sev'nty Persons, such as were at their Devotion, to supply the Magistracy; and out of this number was it, that the two Supream Councils were chosen, the one of eight Senators, who shou'd Judge thenceforward, and without farther Appeal of Properties and of Life; and the other Ten, who shou'd resolve the Affairs of Peace and War. They re-establish'd the Charge of Gonfalioniere to be officiated, during two Months only, and the first they conferr'd it on, was their Brother in Law Ridolfi, who not daring to act overtly against Soderini's Friends, remaining in the City, devis'd retro­specting their past Conduct, so to fright them, and incline them to seek, of their own Election, another abode. The most con­siderable of those he persecuted, was the Ce­lebrated Nicolo Machiavelli. This wonder­ful [Page 359]Genius was not of mean Birth, but had wanted Education. He knew so little Latin, that in writing upon Titus Livius, it is evi­dent he did not well understand the Text he alledges, nay, and sometimes takes it in a wrong sense. As to the Greek Tongue, he knew not so much as how to read it; but he had the happiness to serve for an Amanuensis to the Learned Marcelio Virgile, who made him extract what was most Quaint in good Authors, and gave him since occasion to en­chase in his own Works, the finest stroaks of Plutarch, of Lucian, and other the Master-pieces of the Greek Tongue, which are found therein, so delicately Translated. Yet was he not wanting to give an Idea, after his Mode, of a Prince, of a Senator, and a Souldier. As he had a Libertine Wit, and that his Manners were dissolute, he ever lov'd the Anarchical Go­vernment, and favour'd only that of Demo­cracy, as coming nearer Anarchy than the rest. He was of all the Factions that were hatcht in his time, against the Medici, and Ridolfi ha­ving Convicted him of having been concern'd in that of their Exile, caus'd him to be taken, and put to the Rack, to make him reveal his Accomplices. He indur'd it with an obstinate si­lence; and Cardinal de Medici not having con­sented, without regret, to his being tortur'd, caus'd him to be inlarg'd, and for a reparation, [Page 360]order'd him to have a great Pension from the Publick, in quality of Historiographer.

Thus Machiavell wrote the eight Books we have of the History of his Country, whose stile is so blooming and Correct, that it's tax'd with being too Finical and Tawdry. And principally in this, Boccacio's easiness and soft Liberty, has got of him the Preference. His Narration is sometimes Malign and Satyri­cal; and Marc-Musurus convinc'd him of it so clearly, that he durst not answer him. They will needs have too, that he has flat­ter'd his Country-men, and exaggerated their Noble Actions; but I do not perceive that they have plainly shewn wherein and how.

His greatest misfortune lay, in his not be­ing able to rid himself of the Inclination he had for Liberty, and of having ill practis'd the precepts of dissimulation he gave to others. He bolted now and then, even in his History, Testimonies of Admiration for Brutus and Cassius, a thing odd and unseasonable, in a Man designedly set to write, in order to in­sinuate into Peoples minds, the Dominion of the Medici. Nevertheless, his allowance was continued to him, having found the Secret of pleasing the Cardinal de Medici, in diverting him with admirable strokes and sallies of the finest Raillery, which he invented to admi­ration, upon all sorts of Subjects.

One day that he counterfeited the Ge­stures and irregular Deportments, of some of the Florentines, the Cardinal told him they wou'd appear very ridiculous upon the Stage, in a Comedy made in imitation of that of Aristophanes. There needed no more to set Machiavell to work upon Clitia, wherein the Parties he meant to ridicule, are drawn so to the Life, that they durst not be angry, tho' they assisted at the first representation of the Piece, for fear of augmenting the publick laughter, by betraying themselves. The Car­dinal de Medici was so Charm'd with it, that being afterwards Pope, he caus'd the Decora­tion of the Threatre, the Habits, and the very Actors themselves, to be removed to Rome, that so he might afford his Court the Diversi­on of that Play.

Machiavell found this turn to account, and receiv'd extraordinary Gratifications from Pope Leo, till that the Conspiracy of Ajaceti and of Almanni, to assassinate all the Medici's being discover'd, they had violent tokens, of its not being contriv'd without Machiavelli's Participation; but he had gone so slily to work, that nothing cou'd be prov'd upon him. They durst not so much as apply him to the Torture, well knowing he wou'd endure it, without making any Discovery. They con­tented themselves with discrediting him, and [Page 362]abandoning him to the misery a man is re­duced, having spent all. He lay under the Im­putation of a Profligate Wretch, and an A­theist. And the little care he took to purge himself, made what was said of him, gene­tally believed to be but too true. He unwit­lingly occasion'd his own Death, by taking out of Prevention a Medicine, which stifl'd him, but I have not found that he wou'd re­ceive the Sacraments, till after being con­strained so to do by the Magistrates.

The End of the Fifth Book.

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS. The Sixth Book.

CArdinal de Medici had not yet been three Months return'd to Florence, when the Death of Pope Giulio the Second oblig'd him to leave that place, in or­der for his repairing to Rome. He made his journey in a Litter, by reason of an Impo­thume he had in those parts, which Modesty [Page 364]forbids mentioning, and travell'd so slowly, that the Pope's Obsequies were already per­form'd, and the Conclave begun, before his Arrival. He remembred Marcileo Ficino, his Father's intimate Friend, who had Erected his Scheme, at the moment of his Birth, and had several times affirmed him to be born under a Constellation, promising him the Papacy. But this Prediction had not so strongly affected him, as that of Erasmus, the famous German Astrologer, who an hour before the Cardinal de Medici entred the Conclave, signify'd to all the Cardinals there, that to no purpose was it for them to renew their Intrigues, and that infallibly not a Man of them shou'd be Pope. The Faithful Bibiana wou'd needs be the Cardinal de Me­dici's Conclavist, and serv'd him with so much the more application, that his principa Talent lay for the Negotiation in hand, and indeed no hard matter was it for him, to gain for his Master the Suffrages of two sorts of Cardinals, who durst not hope to be chosen; one sort, because they were suspected to the Sacred Colledge, as being issu'd from Sove­raign Houses; and the other, by reason of their two green Youth, and the little Account they were in, as to what concern'd the E­lection. As the Cardinals of Arragon and Gonzaga, Sion, Corneli, Sauli, and Petrucci [Page 365]Some also of the Pretenders were there, who promis'd him their Votes, on condition that Medici wou'd give them his, in case they on­ly wanted it to have the number sufficient. The first put to the Vote, was Cardinal Ri­ario, and his Cabal was so much the more powerful, in that almost all those, who ow'd their Promotion to Sixtus the 4th, declar'd in favour of his Nephew, either that they hop'd to share among them so many rich Be­nefices falling vacant, by Riario's Exaltation, or that they meant thereby to testifie their Gratitude to the memory of their Benefactor. But two invincible Obstacles quickly chec­mated Riario's Fortune; one, that the young Cardinals were afraid this old Genoese, making Profession of living austerely, wou'd oblige them to reform the Luxury, wherein the two fore-going Popes had suffer'd them to bask; the other, that not one of the Old aspiring Cardinals, cou'd be prevail'd with, to favour him with his Suffrage, so fully were they persuaded, that he needed but one or two Voices to make up the two thirds. The steddiness they shew'd, in not consenting to the Exaltation of any of the Young, made the Young knit, in their turn, a more strict Combination among themselves, not to give their Votes to the Ancients, and because they must agree among themselves, [Page 366]to avert the Publick Odium, they resign'd their Pretensions to Cardinal de Medici.

They suffer'd their Faction to make a noise, as soon as formed, and an hour after, known was it throughout all the Con­clave, that there wou'd be a young Pope, or none at all. Endeavours were used to disu­nite them, and he who set most Wheels a go­ing, to bring this about, was Cardinal So­derini, who had such just Causes to obviate his most formidable Adversaries becoming his Master. But finding among them a too good understanding, and knowing besides the weakness of the Ancients, he did not doubt, but what he most dreaded wou'd come to pass.

I have already noted Cardinal Soderini to have been both the most Crafty and Self in­teressed of all the Sacred Colledge; and Bi­biana knowing this defect, attack'd him there. He lur'd him with hopes of an esta­blishment for his Brother, as advantageous as that of Florence, and propos'd the Ally­ance of the House of Medici with that of So­derini, by the Marriage of Soderini's Niece, with the Cardinal de Medici's Nephew. So­derini found this offer to his advantage; and the Sureties having been giv'n on both sides, he fortify'd the young Cardinals Party, by joining it with those of his own Faction.

Thus stood the Affair, when the Con­clave was fill'd with Terror, by slipping in a Note to it, written from good Hands, inti­mating, that the Cardinals, who had conven'd, and held the Council of Pisa, from whence they were forced to shift into France, had took Shipping at Thoulon, and were coming full sail to enter the Conclave, before the Election was over. Certain it was, that their arrival wou'd create great Troubles, and break all the measures taken by Bibiana, for the Promotion of Cardinal de Medici, because that, on the one side, the Cardinals coming from France, had been Excommuni­cated and Degraded by the late Pope, who had declar'd his Resolution, to have them burn'd before the Church of St. Peter, if they fell into his hands; on the other side, as they were Old Cardinals, they fore-saw that their Co-Brothers, to fortifie their Faction, and render it, by a new Addition, superiour to that of the Young, wou'd by all means let them into the Conclave. And in order to the taking off the Censures, and restoring them, wou'd use the absolute Power, which the Conclave pretends to have, during the Vacancy of the Holy See, which wou'd in­fallibly cause a Schism. It must needs be own'd that never was Conclave so much at a plunge, as this wou'd have been, had the [Page 368]Cardinals, they expected, come. But Provi­dence, that destin'd the Papacy to Cardinal de Medici, eluded their Purposes by a furious storm, which seiz'd them at their very put­ting out of the Port of Thoulon, and suffer'd them not to go on shoar, in any of the places they desir'd to touch at, and left them not, till after having split their Ships, and thrown their Persons upon the Coast of Pisa, where the Magistrates were devoted to the Cardinal de Medici. These Magistrates knew that their Patron wou'd not be chosen, if the Old Cardinals got this new re-inforcement, and for the preventing it, they seiz'd their Guests, under the Shams of consulting their Preservation, and the Security of the Town.

They gave them to understand, that their Heads had been set at a Price; and that as Tuscany was very much infested by the Ban­ditti's, there wou'd be People greedy enough of the two thousand Crowns, that had been promis'd to whoever shou'd bring their Heads to Rome, as to way-lay them with a design to kill them, if they undertook their Journey before the new Pope, upon the point of being Elected, had moderated his Prede­cessors Sentence against them. Little did it avail the sev'n Cardinals to declare, that they wou'd run the risque of that, and then [Page 369]protest against the Violence done them, and of the Right of Nations violated in their Persons; they were penn'd up in a House, surrounded with strong Guards.

Notwithstanding all this, the Conclave had not ended yet a while, 'cause the young and old Cardinals persisted in an equal Ob­stinacy, without an odd Adventure, which made them jump in an Accord. Cardinal de Medici being extraordinarily agitated with the number of Visits he made each Night, to all the Cardinals of his Faction, his Im­post hume open'd, and the purulent matter issuing thence, exhall'd such a stink, as in­fested all the Cells, separated only by light Boards. The old Cardinals, whose Tempe­rament being less capable of resisting the Ma­lign impressions of so Corrupted an Air, con­sulted the Physicians of the Conclave, about the Course they were to take; and the Phy­sicians seeing the Cardinal de Medici, and judging of his Constitution, rather by the euil Humours that issu'd from his Body, than of the vigour of Nature in sending them forth, answer'd, after they had been bribed by Bibiana's Promises, that the Cardinal de Medici had not a Month longer to live. This Doom made him Pope, in that the Old-Car­dinals, thinking themselves much Cunnin­ger, than the Young, were willing to in­dulge [Page 370]them a satifaction, which they pre­sum'd wou'd not be of long continuance. They went and told them, that they yield­ed at length to their Obstinacy, on condition the like Compliance shou'd be return'd them some other time. Thus the Cardinal de Medici was chosen Pope, upon a false insinuation, ha­ving not yet compleated his thirty sixth year; and as Joy is the most Soveraign of Remedies, he quickly after recover'd so perfect a Health, that the Old Cardinals had occasion to re­pent for having been too Credulous. The new Pope took care to send a Courier to Pisa, with Orders for the seven Cardinals Release, being there, under a Complimental Confine­ment; but without restoring their Money, or Equipage. Insomuch that those Eminen­cies being inform'd of the upshot of the Con­clave, and having not wherewith to return into France, were too happy in quitting their Purple, trudging to Rome in quality of Sup­plicants, and laying themselves at the Popes Feet, who absolv'd them, and re-instated them in the Sacred Colledge.

Nevertheless, this was not it that caus'd him to assume the Name of Leo; and Historian do not guess better, when they make him chuse this Title, our of Emulation to his two Predecessors, the one of whom was call'd Alexander, and the other Julius. The truth [Page 371]is, that the Cardinal de Medici, who gave a little too much way to Predictions, then remembred a Dream his Mother had, while of him with Child: She imagin'd her self de­liver'd upon the great Altar of the Church de la Reparata, of a Lyon, beyond Comparison, bigger and finer than those the Suldan of Ae­gypt had sent to her Husband, but so gentle, that he did not roar, and so tame, he suf­fer'd himself to be Caress'd like any little Dog.

The Treasures Julius had heaped up, in [...]he Castle of San Angelo, absolutely to purge Italy of Strangers, by Chacing the Spaniards way from Naples, serv'd Leo to pay the [...]ebts he Contracted, when no more than Cardinal, and to shew his Magnificence, in [...]n expence of an hundred thousand Crowns, [...]hich the day of his Coronation cost him. Triumphal Arches were there, at the end of [...]ch Street. All the Officers of the Court of [...]e, appear'd there in stately Garbs; and [...]e first time was it they strove with Emula­ [...]t, who shou'd have the most splendid E­ [...]ipage. The Dukes of Ferrara and Ʋrbino [...]ficiated then, their Charges of Prefect of [...]e, and General of the Troops of the [...]urch, and the People then received grea­ [...] Largesses than they expected. It was just the end of the year, that the Battel of Ra­venna [Page 372]had been fought, and that day seems to have been chosen, for the better noting the inconstancy of Humane things. The Pope was mounted upon the same Horse he had had on the day of Battel; and the Duke of Ferrara had taken care to redeem him from a Cavalier, that rid in his own Troop, to whom he fell for his Lot of the Plunder; he was never since made use of, and was carefully fed and lookt to. The main of the Ceremony consisted in the three different Personages, which Giulio de Medici repre­sented that day. For in the beginning of this Solemnity, he was seen as a Knight of Rhodes, carrying the Great Guidon of St. John of Jerusalem. Then the Pope put upon his Head the Cardinals Cap, fall'n vacant by the Exaltation of his Holiness, and purg'd his Birth of all the Defects where with it was upbraided, by so Authentick an Act, that it was no longer possible to make him pass for a Bastard, without calling in question the in­fallibility of him who declar'd him Legiti­mate. And towards the end of the Caval­cade, the news being come of the Arch-bishop of Florence being dead, the Pope gau [...] at the same instant the Arch-bishoprick t [...] Giulio.

The late Pope had order'd, at his Deat that, in the first place, the City of Mode [Page 373]shou'd be purchas'd of the Emperour Maxi­milian; and his Successor had a colour to shew, he had not needlessly drained the Churches Coffer. It was no hard matter to conclude the Bargain for an hundred: thou­sand Duckets, because that Maximilian was of the temper of other Prodigals, who take up at all Hands, and use no more Precauti­ons in selling, than in giving: But when Colonel Viefrust was requir'd to resign the Place, he Commanding in it a German Gar­rison, he demanded Indempnifyings, which mounted much higher than the Place had cost. The Pope endeavour'd, at first, to bring him to Compliance, by the way of Negotiation; but seeing the Colonel abated nothing of his Fierceness, he mated him with a Martial Man, a Person as brave as himself, and incomparably more Cunning. This was Count Guido de Rangoni, who took his mea­sures with the Pope, and had occasion giv'n him of. Offence, that he might pretend Cause to be Malecontent. Then he went di­rectly to Modena, where Viefrust, his Friend, received him, and afforded him the means of defecting his Garrison, and shouldering him out of the Town.

The Recovery of Modena brought the Pope into Repute, and gave him occasion to think of the settlement of his Brother Giuliano. [Page 374]Charles Duke of Savoy had a Sister to pro­vide for, who began to grow weary of a sin­gle Life. She was already above thirty years old, but none had yet Courted her in Mar­riage; for her Brother was too ill a Husband to give her a Portion suitable to her High Birth. Under these Circumstances the Pope had her sifted, whether she wou'd be his Sister in-Law, and sent her such rich Presents, that they exceeded what she was able to bring in­to the House of Medici. He offer'd the Duke of Savoy, at the same time, to take her without Portion, and promis'd that Duke to render him so powerful in Italy, that the Duke, desiring nothing better, than to be rid of his Sister, without her putting him to Charge, gave his Consent. The Nuptials were extream magnificent, and the Pope sent as far as Nice, to receive his Sister-in-Law, and kept her the Train of a Queen. A Promotion was there of Cardinals, to honour her entry into Rome; and the Pope, that he might dispose the People to receive her the more chearfully, diminish'd the Impost upon Salt.

The Applauses his Liberality produc'd excited him to Found a Colledge for the In­struction of Youth, which he meant, at first, to render the famousest in the Universe: For with great Charges, he prevail'd with [Page 375] Niphus to come thither to teach Philosophy, Christoforo d' Arezzo for Physick, Butigella for Law, Partasius for Eloquence, and Chal­condilas for the Greek Tongue. His Holiness was so afraid of having Criticks find barba­rous Expressions in his Briefs, which those of some of his Predecessors were full of, that he chose for his two principal Secretaries, the two Men in the World who wrote best, namely, Bembe, and Sadolet. He augmen­ted the Library of the Vatican, whose In­spection he committed to Beroalde the younger, who understood Books admirably well. He caused the Penulus of Plautus to be represented in two days, the Expence of which was excessive, and the Actors Postures too free, yet gave no Scandal. The Pope had so well divined this to be the way to catch the Romans, and hinder them from inveighing a­gainst Abuses, that they erected him Statues for the very things, which had set them a writing Satyrs against the other Popes.

But the Design Giulio had bequeathed to his Successors, was too Noble to remain im­perfect. The French had been no sooner driven out of the Land of Milan, than that they made preparations to visit it again. They laid Siege to Novarra, and that place was then of such Consequence, that by taking it, in it wou'd they have found the Keys of [Page 376]all the other Cities of the Dutchy of Milan Massimilian Sforza had raised eight thousand Suizzars to relieve it; but as he wanted Mo­ney, his Souldiers threatned to abandon him, afore he had led them into the presence of the Enemies. The Pope, to remedy this mis­chief, sent him five and twenty thousand Crowns, which enabled him to win the Bat­tel of Novarra, and preserv'd him his Dutchy. Then the Pope chang'd his Method, in re­gard of the French; for as his Design was only to hinder them from setling in Italy, he cou'd not endure that the English and Flem­mings shou'd push them too much on the side of Picardy, though it was he himself that had invited them to the Undertaking. He in­fluenc'd them to an Accommodation, by such cogent Offices, that the Peace was Conclu­ded between Lewis the 12th, on the one side, and the King of England, and the Arch-Duke, on the other. But his Holiness had since oc­casion, to repent of his Mediation, for that the French, who cou'd not live at rest, had no sooner secured their Frontiers of Picardy, than that they bent their thoughts to the recovery of Milan. They went too about it with more wariness than they were wont; and either that their Ministers were become more refined, or that they had improv'd by their Losses; they apprehended, that their [Page 377]Design wou'd ne're succeed, unless they act­ed in Concert with the Genoueses. Octavian Fregossa had an Authority among those free People, little inferiour to the Supream. Fran­cis the first, who began to Reign in France, got his Pulse felt by such skillful Emissaries, that he divorc'd himself from the Union of the other Princes of Italy, tho' he had past his Word to the Pope, not to enter upon any Treaty without his Participation. The Pope believing him sincere, had bottom'd upon his Faith the most important of his Intrigues, which Merits being known. Several marks of Folly had 'scap'd from Massimilian Sforza, as gave occasion to believe, that he might be stript of the Dutchy of Milan without scruple, seeing he was no longer in a Condition to defend it against the French, nor so much as to Converse among Men. The Pope then contriving his Brother Giuliano's Fortune, judg'd there cou'd never be a more favou­rable Opportunity offer'd for his aggran­disement. He open'd his mind to the Duke of Savoy, whose unquiet humour disappro­v'd of nothing that departed from Ambiti­on. This Duke fully confirm'd the Pope in his Resolution, assuring him that the French wou'd probably consent, that Giuliano de Me­dici shou'd have the Dutchy Milan, if they were repell'd in the Tryal they were going to make for its Recovery.

Upon this Supposition, the Pope ima­gin'd, that the Venetians wou'd suffer him to act against Sforza, nay, and wou'd second him too, in case he wou'd divide, with them, the spoils of this Prince. Then made he the Proposal of it to the Ministers of Spain, who pretended to approve it, tho' they thought it ridiculous, because their present Interest was only to hinder France from re-instating it self in the Dutchy of Milan, which they saw plainly the Pope wou'd oppose, with all his Might, as long as he shou'd Cocker in his Mind, the Chimerical aggrandisement of his Brother. Thus the Pope, after having sounded his Confederates, became fully per­suaded, that there was nothing more to do to enter Milan, than a well managing Fre­gossa. He did him all the Favours that the Court of Rome can grant, without its costing him any thing; I mean, that he gave him Benefices for his Brothers, and for his Chil­dren. It was thought Fregossa wou'd have yielded to such solid Testimonies of Friend­ship, if it had come sooner in the Popes Head to gain him. But he was already too far engag'd with the French, and only wai­ted for their coming, to declare himself in their behalf. In the mean while, he us'd all such Demonstrations, as serv'd to keep the Pope in good Humour, and so craftily [Page 379]deluded him, that the Pope did not think he had a better Friend in all Italy, than Fregossa; witness the Plan which his Holi­ness Communicated to him, of all the Itali­ans meant to do for the disputing the Passage of the Alpes. Giuliano de Medici was Elected General of their Troops, and advanc'd as far as Florence, the place appointed for the Rendezvous of those of the Church. But as he was there preparing a stately Equipage, and suitable to the Soveraignty he pretend­ed to go take Possession of, as soon as he shou'd have repell'd the French, a Malign Feaver Checkmated him, and bereft him of Life in six Weeks space. His Death did not Chill the Popes Ambition, it only chang'd its Object. Alfonsina, his Sister-in-Law, had already long complain'd, that he did nought for young Lorenzo de Medici, his Eldest Brother's only Son, and Head of his House. His Holiness had ever excus'd himself upon the particular Obligations he had to Establish Giuliano before all things; but Giuliano was no more; Lorenzo was al­ready twenty years old, well made of his Person, and shew'd much Inclination for Arms.

The Pope Conferr'd on him Giuliano's Place, in what regarded the Command of the Troops of the League, but he had nei­ther [Page 380]the Experience nor the Virtues necessa­ry for such an Employ. His Genius was too slow, and so little capable of dis-entangling him from Pleasures, when once in them in­gag'd, that he was still in the Arms of the Courtezans of Florence, when Trimulée, who Commanded the Van-guard of the French. Army, having caus'd a Peasant of Piemont to shew him a Path, by which the light Cavalry might cross the Mountains of Nice, he acquainted la Palice with it, who took Prospero Colonna, in Villa Franca, and disperst all the Forces design'd to defend the Inlet of Italy.

There needed no more to unhinge the Pope, and make him lose Courage. He ima­gin'd the French were already in Milan, and dispatcht away a Man of Credence, to Ne­gotiate with them. This Agent fell unhap­pily into the Arms of the Spaniards, who distrusting his Journey, treated him as a Spy, that they might have a Pretence to rifle him. They took from him his Instruction, and uncipher'd it; they thereby penetrated into the Popes Designs, and not willing to be the Victims of his Accommodation with France, caus'd their Army to stop near Trebia, when advancing in long Marches, to join the Forces of the Confederates.

Lorenzo de Medici, who was at last depar­ted Florence, upon the rumour of Prosporo Co­lonna's being taken, and had put himself into Plaisanza with very brave Troops, press'd the Spaniards to come and join him, or to appoint him a place in the Dutchy of Milan, that might serve him for Rendezvous: But Cardona, who commanded them, made no positive answer, under colour that it wou'd be exposing his Quality of Vice-Roy of Na­ples, to be in the same Camp with Lorenzo de Medici, whom he shou'd be oblig'd to o­bey, as being General of the League. Thus Cardona not budging, and Lorenzo de Me­dici not finding himself strong enough to March, without the assistance of the Spa­niards, the Suizzars remain'd alone in the Dutchy of Milan.

Nevertheless they pretended to defend it, and their Courage augmenting proportio­nably, as their Allies diminisht, they with great firmness expected the French, and fought them at Marignan. They lost seven­teen thousand Men in this Action, and their heat of Liver being dissipated by this blood­ing, they abandoned the Milanese with the Field of Battel to the Conquerours, and their Retreat made the Spaniards decamp, in haste, from near Trebia, to return into the Kingdom of Naples. The French wou'd have defeated [Page 382]them with small difficulty, if they had pursu'd them, but the Pope amused them by this Artifice.

He dispatch'd to the Most Christian King, the most cunning of his Emissaries, call'd Lodovico Canole; and to dispose his Majesty to receive his Agent the better, he wrote to Lorenzo de Medici to retire out of Parma and Plaisanza, and to the Inhabitants of those Ci­ties, to go present their Keys to the Conque­rours.

Canole found the King already weary of the abode of Italy, and propos'd to him the Interview of Bologna, as the only means to hasten his return into France. The King ac­cepted it, without making reflection, that his Enemies only sought thereby to gain time. The Pope arriv'd first at Bologna, to receive there the King, who came thither two days after, accompani'd with eight thousand Horse. Chancellor du Prat drew up there the Plan of the Concordate, with Secretary Graffis; and this is the only particularity I relate of this Intrigue, because I have found no other that has escap'd the knowledge of the famous Monsieur de Puits; and besides, the Arch-bishop d'Aix-Genebrard had made a Treatise of it, which passes for Anecdote.

Then was brought upon the Board a Pro­ject of a League between the Holy See and [Page 383] France; but the Pope had his Answer ready. He let the King know, that it became nei­ther the Gravity, nor Decorum of a Sove­raign Pontife, to break his Word with the Spaniards, for the sixteen Months that he was bound to remain still united with them, but that this time shou'd be no sooner expir'd, but that he wou'd do all that his Majesty should desire of him. The King was satis­fi'd with this Excuse, because that being still young, and without Experience, he ima­gin'd that he shou'd never be soon enough in France, to receive the Applauses, which the Victory of Marignan, and the reduction of the Dutchy of Milan had deserved.

Thus ended the Interview of Bologna; and a Body may say, that the Pope preser­ved, by Cunning, his Predecessors Con­quest to the Holy See, and the Kingdom of Naples to the Spaniards. His Holiness wou'd needs pass through Florence, in his way to Rome; and as his Country-Men had then improved Architecture, Sculpture, and Painting, to the highest point they cou'd at­tain, they made him an entrance that will never have the like. Giacomo de Sandro made the Triumphal Arch of St. Peter's Gate, where, all that Fancy cou'd add to History, was so happily employ'd, that the Pope, who understood Painting admirably [Page 384]well, upon his viewing it, fell into a kind of Extasie, from whence they had much a do to rouze him, to get him advance. The Work was so much the more singular, that Baccio de Monte Lupo had had a hand in it, as well as Sandro. But as their manner was quite different, easie was it to distinguish, to their very least strokes, and to render to each the Justice he deserved.

Giuliano de Tasso had made another Arch before the Church of St. Felice, whose Deco­ration was no less Charming for its oddness, than for its Beauty. As if this had not been bus'ness enough for him, he had undertaken and finisht so lively and capricious a Re­presentation of the Adventures of Romulus, that the Pope went thither two or three times to see it. Antony de St. Gal made, up­on the place of the Lords, an Octogone Tem­ple, whose Design was new. And the Gy­ant, which Bandivelli put in the Gallery of the Palace, cou'd not be better proportion'd, notwithstanding his enormous bigness.

The Triumphal Arch of Gràmaccis, between the Abby and Palace of Podesta, express'd the Marriage of the Arts with the Virtues, and that of Rosso a Canto di Bissierre was mar­velous for the diversity in its Figures. In a word, André del Sarto disguis'd the Facciata de Santa Maria del Fiore so, as that she seemed [Page 385]all Marble, by a kind of Mastic appli'd upon Cloath, which Lorenzo de Medici had invented.

Alfonsina deg l'Orsini, residing at Florence, took advantage of the good humour, the sight of so many inimitable Objects had crea­ted in the Pope, to excite him to the aggran­disement of her Son. She had long already ty'd the Dutchy of Ʋrbino as a Prey; and she tormented her Brother-in-Law, to give the investitute thereof to young Lorenzo, upon the score that this Dutchy was abso­lutely for his Bienseance, and a Neighbour of the State of Florence. But she had never been able to obtain any thing in Giuliano de Medici's Life-time, because he had ever op­pos'd whoever attempted on that side, whe­ther he had an abhorrence to the Consenting to so visible an Injustice, or that he preten­ded acknowledgment to a Prince, who had giv'n him a Retreat, during his Exile. But no sooner were his Eyes clos'd, than that Al­fonsina deg l'Orsini redoubled her Instances. The Pope had too much Wit, than to be ig­norant of the injury he shou'd do his Reputa­tion, and the Scandal he shou'd give the Christian World, by diversting one of his Vassals without Cause. He resisted some time, but at length two things prevailed with him to give way. The first, His [Page 386]Sister-in-Law's extream Importunity, who left him not one moment at quiet, till she had got him to fall out with the Duke d'Ʋr­bino. And the second, That the Duke had not been careful to improve his Friendship before he was Pope, nor so much as since. And now follow Circumstances relating to this point, which well merit being known.

I have already remark'd, that he had us'd his utmost efforts to obstruct the Medi­ci's from being restor'd in Florence, but this was not his greatest Crime. He had fil'd o­thers to the Account, namely, that being General of the Church, and by consequence bound to pursue its Interests, he had never­theless sent into France, the Count Baltha­zar Castillonne, for the negotiating there an Ac­commodation apart, in Execution of which, he had hindred the Souldiers of the Confede­rate Army, from passing upon his Territories, for fear of their being at the Battel of Ra­venna, and had deny'd giving passage to those that had been beaten there: Moreover, at the last irruption of the French into Italy, he had accepted the Lieutenancy of the Troop of the League, under Giuliano de Medici appointed General: Yet when sickness had hindered Giuliano from Command in them, and that young Lorenzo had been put into his room, the Duke d'Ʋrbino had re­sus'd [Page 387]to serve under him, and alledg'd, for excuse, his not having consented to obey Giu­liano, than on the score of Friendship, which gave him reason to believe, that he wou'd have shar'd the Generalship with him; but that having no peculiar engage­ment with Lorenzo, and their humours, on the contrary, being incompatible, it was to be feared they wou'd not pass two days to­gether without a Broil and Disturbance.

This Carriage had extraordinarily morti­fi'd the Pope, in that the Duke d'Ʋrbino, shew'd a two visible Contempt of his Ne­phew: Yet he wou'd not have dared to complain, if the Duke had not added Injury to Disdain, by detaining in his state, the brave Companies of Ordonnance, that had been levi'd, instead of sending them at least to the Rendezvous, since he went not thi­ther himself. This is what he was upbrai­ded with, in the Manifest publish'd against him, when War was declared upon him. It was no difficult matter for Lorenzo de Ceri, who commanded the Army of the Church to despoil him; because that not having at that time any Souldiers to defend his State, and suspecting the principal aim was upon his Person, because his Death wou'd have secur'd the Dutchy of Ʋrbin to the House of Me­dici; he durst not Coop himself up in any [Page 388]Place, for fear of being immediately there invested, and securing what he had most pre­cious, accepted the azyle offer'd him by the Duke of Mantoua.

The Pope being flusht with the easiness of this Conquest, undertook another, which cost him as little trouble, tho' it failed little of proving fatal to him. Pandolfo Petrucci, who Commanded at Sienna, had afforded him a Retreat, during his Exile, and his Son the Cardinal had served for an Instrument, to advance him to the Supream Dignity of the Church, by forming the Faction of the young Cardinals, who obstinately re­fus'd having any other Pope than him; yet the Pope chose rather to fall into the black­est ingratitude, than lose the occasion that was offer'd, of joyning the state of Sienna to that of Florence: But he went not a­bout it at first by main force, he contented himself with kindling in Sienna a Sedition, which, at length, constrain'd Petrucci to depart thence, and put in his room his mor­tal Enemy, devoted to the House of Me­dici.

The Republick of Lucca had not been bet­ter treated, had not the Emperour, Maximi­lian the First, been in Italy with an Army, wherein were reckon'd above sixty thousand Souldiers, with design to chase the French [Page 386]out of the Dutchy of Milan, stopp'd the Popes Progresses. His Holinesses Troops were very brave and sprightly, he had promis'd them to the Most Christian King, who had demanded them with so much the more ear­nestness, in that he cou'd not so suddenly send into the Dutchy of Milan, Forces sufficient to dispute the entrance of it with the Germans. But the Pope judged the time of decla­ring himself not to be yet come; he re-in­forc'd his Troops, and caus'd them to march into Lombardy, under Bibiana's Conduct, who then possessed all the Confidence of his Master. The secret instruction that was giv'n him, boar, that he shou'd rest sa­tisfi'd, at the first, with being a Spectator of the Tragedy, then going to be acted: but that upon the unravelling of the piece, he shou'd not too long defer throwing him­self into the Party that Fortune favour­ed, that so he might boast of having giv'n the last mortal blow to the Conquered.

Bibiana was a good Player in all kinds, yet he cou'd not shuffle so cunningly, but that his Game was discover'd. The Emperour advanc'd, without Obsta­cle, as far as the City of Milan, where the Constable of Bourbon, and the Mareschal de Trimulee, were resolved to sustain the Siege with their best Troops. The Germans [Page 390]had laid it, in hopes the Citizens wou'd de­clare for them, and constrain the French Garrison to Capitulate. But Trimulee made the Souldiers live with so much moderation, that they gave not their Hosts any occasion of Discontent. Thus the Siege spinning out into length, the most Christian King's Mini­sters had opportunity to debauch Staff and Puts, two of the principal Officers of the eighteen thousand Suizzars, that compos'd the Flow'r of the Emperours Infantry. These two Leaders, after having made sure of their Companions, went to Maximilian's Tent, and demanded of him the Arrears that were owing to their Nation. Maximilian was so prodigal, that he never had Money in his Coffers; but, in recompence, he was so ci­vil, that his Creditors had much ado to deny him time. His Caresses, however, cou'd not in the least prevail upon the two Suiz­zars; on the contrary, they put them into a Passion, and made them let fly such words, as cast Maximilian into a pannique Fear. He imagined they had contriv'd to deliver him up to the French, in the same manner they had formerly sold Lodovico Sforza; and the horrour of such a Treatment being stronger than his Reason, he determin'd of a sudden to fly away towards Trent, and did so ac­cordingly, without being follow'd by more [Page 391]than his Domesticks. His Army, thus wan­ting a Head, disbanded of it self, and the French being thus deliver'd, bent their thoughts to take revenge on the Pope, who had fail'd them in time of need.

They helped the Venetians to recover the places, which the City of Cambray had taken from them; and the Garrisons which eva­luated those places, not knowing what to do, suffer'd themselves to be persuaded by a French Emissary, who advis'd them to side with the Duke d'Ʋrbino. To these were joyned disown'd Troops, Collected from all Parts; and the Duke d'Ʋrbino placing him­self at their Head, lead them, with an incre­dible Expedition, before his Capital City. Giulio Vitelli Commanded therein a Garrison of three thousand Souldiers, for Lorenzo de Medici; but the Women and their Children had no sooner heard of the Duke's being at their Gates, but the Sedition taking fire, be­came so great in a quarter of an hours space, that Vitelli, in spight of all his endeavours, was forc'd to Capitulate to go out with the White Staff.

Lorenzo de Medici receiv'd the tydings of this alteration at Rome, whither he had brought back his Uncle's Troops; he caus'd them to march, with all diligence, towards Ʋmbria, and met with the Duke of Ʋrbin [Page 392]at the passage of a River. He might have defeated the half of his Men, if he wou'd have been content with a Demi-Victory; but as he had a great advantage o're Ʋrbino's Army, in what related to the Number and Discipline of his Souldiers, it made him ra­ther inclin'd to wait for the occasion of giving him a total defeat, but never after cou'd he meet with such an opportunity, for that the Duke d'Ʋrbino, who had many of the parts of a great Captain, whatever is said of him by Guie­chiardin, stood upon his Defence in the Water, with a Pike in his hand; and holding firm with his choicest Forces, while the rest filed off behind, saved all to him belonging, e­v'n to the very Baggage, and wou'd ven­ture nothing more afterwards, and rested satisfy'd with having recover'd his State. Nevertheless there was a Rencounter, where­in Lorenzo de Medici, advancing too far, re­ceiv'd so dangerous a Wound in his Head, as compell'd him to cause himself to be car­ry'd to Rome, that he might be the better look'd to.

His Army had no sooner seen him de­part, but that it disbanded of it self; and the Pope foreseeing his Reputation upon the point of being lost, if thus frustrated in his Designs upon Ʋrbin, he us'd all possible means to accomplish it in the manner pro­jected. [Page 393]He knew the Duke d'Ʋrbino had not a fund to pay his Troops, and that he was ev'n indebted whole Musters to the Spa­nish Regiments of Suarez and Maldonet.

These two Colonels had sufficiently utter'd their minds, that they only serv'd for Money, as to be deem'd capable of an Infidelity; and several Emissaries had order to feel their Pulses. In a short time they agreed upon the Reward to be giv'n them, for delivering up the Duke d'Ʋrbino; and for fear of their failing in their word, his Ho­linesses Emissaries, without their Participati­on, treated with a Captain of Horse, of the same Nation, Cabille, by name, who pro­mis'd to assassinate the Duke, at the first Re­view that shou'd be made. Either th'one or t'other of these two Conspiracies cou'd not not have miss'd of speeding, if the Duke of Atria, having been made privy, had not revealed them to the Duke d'Ʋrbino, who shew'd much Judgment and Courage in so surprizing a Conjuncture. He assembl'd his Army under Colour, of leading it to an Ex­pedition, at that very instant to be execu­ted. Those of the Conspiracy stood in their Ranks, and the Duke having perceiv'd them, made an Eloquent Discourse, with design to reproach them with their perfidiousness. He related all the Circumstances of the Plot, [Page 394]he read Letters written with their own Hands, which Convicted them to all Intents, and demanded with a fierce and resolute tone, that those who had no share in their Crimes, shou'd do him Justice.

This Harangue produc'd such a hurly bur­ly in the Souldiers minds that heard it, that the Accomplices might have had time to escape, if they had listed; but as they were resolute Fellows, instead of being seiz'd with Fear, at the knowledge of their Plot's being discover'd, they made haste to execute this their enterprize; they fell to uniting their Re­giments into a Body, and a surrounding the place where the Duke was mounted, but they found themselves environ'd with the Ca­valry they did not in the least distrust.

Federigo Bossolo, a Prince of the House of Mantoua, who Commanded this Horse, had quitted the Pope's Service, because Lorenzo de Medici had taken from him the General Lieutenancy of his Army, which had been conferr'd on him by the Pope, He fear'd falling into his hands, as knowing Lorenzo's humour to be implacable, when it had been once provok'd; and this reason engag'd him to save the Duke d'Ʋrbino. In a mo­ment did he rally his Troops, spurr'd and fired them with Honour, animated them a­gainst the Criminals, and persuaded them [Page 395]to stop 'em. And the Spanish Infantry see­ing they were not strong enough to defend their Colonels, deliver'd them up, and the Horse forthwith shot, and put them to the Sword.

A Month after the Pope ran the same flanger the Duke d'Ʋrbino had avoided. I have already noted Petrucci to have been ex­pell'd Sienna, tho' his Son, the Cardinal had Contributed more than the rest, to his Holi­nesses Election. The Father supported his Exile with sufficient constancy; but the Son being resolv'd, at any rate, to be reveng'd, did, for a long while, carry a Dagger under his Robes, with intent to kill the Pope in full Consistory, whither he came without Guards, as imagining it wou'd be easie for him to escape through the Corsi, before they knew of the perpetration of the Fact. But he since chang'd his Mind, as to the place; and whether his Heart fail'd him at the Exe­cution, or that he found more Obstacles in it, than he had imagin'd, he chose rather to dis­patch the Pope, when a Hunting, where he sometimes wandred so far from Company, that he expos'd his Person to the possibility of being stabb'd. But there needed so many Circumstances to concur at the same time, to produce this opportunity, that it was neg­lected as soon as the former.

Cardinal Petrucci had contriv'd, in the third place, to form a Faction in the Sacred Colledge; and the first he sifted was Cardi­nal Adrian de Corneto, who fell under the delusion of the most amazing Prediction, that has been heard of, since Sooth-sayers were in the World. This Prelate was born upon the shoar of the Tuscan Sea, in the Ci­ty, whence he borrow'd his Name. His Pa­rents were so poor, as constrain'd 'em to put him out to Service, but he had the good luck of meeting with a Master, that caus'd him to study, and furnish'd him with the means to pass thro' all the Ecclesiastical Dignities, without being otherwise indebted for his Fortune than to the Charity of the Author of his Education, and to his own Merit. Not long afore had he been to revisit the place of his Nativity, where knowing a Magician to be in the Mountains of the Appenine, he had the Curiosity to try, whether there was a­ny certainty in his Predictions. To him went he in a disguised Garb, and consulted him a­bout some Persons of his Acquaintance▪ whose adventures he was as well inform'd of as his own. The Wizzard gave him such Perti­nent answers, as produc'd him the occasion of speaking of himself. He shew'd him his Horoscope, without telling him whose it was and askt him what wou'd become of the Per­son [Page 397]born under such a Constellation? If it is a Man, (reply'd the Magician) he will at least be Cardinal, and if it is a Woman, she will come very near the Throne, if she does not ascend it.

The Cardinal Corneto desir'd to know no more upon his own Article, and slily turning his Discourse, engag'd the Magician to speak of the Pope. The Magician did assure he wou'd dye young, and of an unexpected Death. Then the Cardinal was tempted to enquire after the Fate of his Successour: And the Devil only waiting for this, to punish him for his Curiosity, told him, thro' the Wizzard's Mouth, That the Conclave that should be held after Pope Leo the 10th's Death, shou'd be long and factious, but that at last they wou'd Elect a Cardinal, named Adrian; that this Adrian shou'd be of very low Birth, and wou'd gradually mount to all the Dignities of the Church, without any Recommendation; and thro' his own sufficiency; that he wou'd be sixty years of Age at the Moment of his Exaltati­on, and not provided with any Benefice.

It must needs be own'd, that the Devil was never more ingenuous to deceive, than in this occasion. All these Circumstances suited admirably well with Cardinal Corneto, and with him only in the Sacred Colledge. [Page 398]He was of a much lower Birth than all the other Cardinals; he had mounted thro' all the Degrees inferiour to that Dignity; he had been Chaplain, Canon, Dean and Bishop, without ever having had two Benefices at a time; he past, without Contradiction, for the Learnedest Member of the Consistory▪ he had never made his Court to any Man for Preferment, no, not so much as to his first Patron: Fortune went to seek him in his Chamber, and at his very Books. Those who had done him good, had had regard only to his Merit; for as to outward advantages, he was not possess'd of any. In a word, his Name was Adrian; and this last Circum­stance of the Sooth-sayers Prediction, seem'd to point him out, as well as that of his Age, seeing he wanted but three Months, of ha­ving accomplisht his sixty'th year.

He took leave of the Magician, more sa­tisfy'd than he went thither, but was much more pleas'd when, after his return to Rome. Cardinal Petrucci sollicited him to enter into the Conspiracy. He imagin'd that by this means it was, that Destiny began to labour for his Exaltation, and believ'd it so much the more strongly, as that the time drew near, that had been fore-told him, and that he had the hint of the Pope's being to be dis­patcht after an unexpected manner. How­ever [Page 399]as Cardinal Corneto was considerate and wary in all his Actions, he wou'd enter into no positive Engagement, nor give any Token that might serve to Convict him up­on occasion. He contented himself with assuring Cardinal Petrucci, that he wou'd not reveal his Enterprize to any body, nor wou'd he go about to cross it.

Cardinal Sauli, who was afterwards wheedled to be an Accomplice, took the like Course, but out of another considerati­on, he had promis'd his Suffrage to Bibiand, for Cardinal de Medici, upon the hopes Bi­biana had giv'n him of the first vacant Be­nefice, which he shou'd think worthy of his acceptance; and Bibiana pretended Cardi­nal de Medici had ratifi'd the Promise, yet it had not any effect; and tho' the first Be­nefice, having been dispos'd of to Giulio de Medici, Commander of Rhodes, this did not offend Sauli, as not thinking it strange, that the Pope had broke his word with him, in consideration of the only Person of the House of Medici, that was an Ecclesiastick, and de­sign'd for the Province of Cardinal Nephew; but when other Rich Arch-bishopricks sell vacant, and he had demanded them, and yet were refus'd him, and conferr'd on o­thers, who had indeed serv'd in the Con­clave, but not so usefully as he, he was ex­treamly [Page 400]piqu'd; and Cardinal Petrucci so improv'd this Resentment of Sauli's, for his being deny'd, that he agreed to the Revenge that was brooding in his behalf, without his medling in the matter.

Cardinal Riario was the third that entred into the Plot, thro' a Motive of hatred a­gainst the House of Medici, which lasted since the danger he had run at Florence, when the Pazzi's Conspiracy broke forth, and through a Sentiment, common enough among th' Italians, that the Pope, how kind soever in his behaviour to him, wou'd never forget his Uncle's Death, nor his Fa­ther's Wound, to which Riario had at least serv'd for a Pretext. Moreover he promis'd himself to be Elected Pope, since, being Dean of the Cardinals, and having more Benefices than any other, to distribute among them, they wou'd give him then Votes; besides, his having brought himself into Credit at Rome, by his vast Expence▪ and by the magnificent Palace he had there caus'd to be built.

The last was Cardinal Soderini, who suffer'd himself to be cajoll'd with the hopes of re-instating his Brother in the perpetual Dictatorship of Florence, which seem'd to him easie, when the Pope was once dead, and that Cardinal Petrucci's Father shou'd [Page 401]have recover'd his Authority in Sienna.

The Conspiracy being thus formed, the measures they took to Execute it were as follow. They made sure of a famous Ope­rator of Italy, call'd Verselli, a Man lucky in Curing Wounds, and handled them so de­licately, that he hardly gave any pain, such subtilty had he in his Fingers, and pleasing­ness in the performance of his Profession. This Fellow was extraordinarily Debaucht, and delighted in committing the blackest Actions, but he did them with so many Pre­cautions, that they had never been able to surprize him, and his Reputation was whole as yet. His principal Talent lay for Venerial Distempers, and this it was intro­duc'd him into Cardinal Petrucci's Familiari­ty. He propos'd to him poysoning the Pope, by a way that cou'd not be discover'd. For the better making it understood, I must re­peat that the Pope had had an Imposthume, which burst, but whose Wound was not wholly clos'd; and there did remain a hole, thro' which the matter gleeted from time to time, either that the Disease had been too great to be wholly Cured, or that the Phy­sicians had judg'd, that Nature ought to be suffer'd to discharge it self that way, which a had made of it self; and indeed the Pope dy'd as soon as it clos'd. Wherefore he need­ed [Page 402]a very able Chyrurgeon, that shou'd pay him constant attendance; and as the Bands were to be chang'd as often as he was dress'd, nothing was more easie than to poyson them, without its being perceiv'd, because the or­dure, wherewith they wou'd be cover'd, wou'd hinder the Venom from being seen.

Cardinal Petrucci approv'd the Invention, and set a going his Intrigues, to work the Popes privy Chyrurgeon out of his Place, so to put Vercelli in his room. The thing did not seem difficult; for besides that the Pope's Chyrurgeon was none of the ablest; and that they had it from Persons well inform'd, that his Holiness sometimes complain'd of the roughness of his Hand, he had the mis­fortune to displease such of the Servants, as were most in their Patrons favour. And, in effect, Giulio Blanci, the Chamberlain, took upon him to procure him his Consent, at the first sollicitation made him, by a Man trusty to Cardinal Petrucci; and the Cardinals who had the most intimacy with the Pope, did assure, that there was nothing more easie, than the bringing it about. The Cardinal Nephew, tho' a Man of great sub­tilty of Wit, and a pretender to Sagacity, yet was made a Cully; for they induc'd him to make the proposal of it to his Uncle, without knowing its tendency. But the [Page 403]Pope shew'd more firmness on that side, than was expected; for he answer'd, that tho' his Chyrurgeon were still more uncapable and un­skillful, yet wou'd he keep him, because he cou'd not resolve upon discovering himself before a new Chyrurgeon, and concluded with saying, That he had rather endure his own, than change.

Nevertheless, they did not despair of ma­king His Holiness condescend to it, at the long run; and I do not question, but that he wou'd, at length, have comply'd with their desires, had they persever'd in their Persua­sions. But while they were contriving new means to introduce Verselli into the Pope's Family, news came to Rome, that the Duke d'Ʋrbino, after having quasht the Factions of his Army, Conducted it to Sienna, in order to re-invest Petrucci in that Government, in hopes that this re-instation wou'd help him to chase the House of Medici from Florence.

The Pope, seeing the Consequences of this March, dreaded losing what he had most dear; and supposing that the Duke d'Ʋrbino [...]ou'd not have fram'd so hardy a Project, without the participation of Cardinal Petruc­ [...] who had not dar'd to appear at Rome, and [...]id at a Country-House, since the Dis­grace befall' [...] his Family. His Holiness [Page 404]had him so narrowly watcht, that a Letter was intercepted, which he wrote to Antonio Nini, his Secretary in the Court of Rome. They found it all in Cypher; and this Cir­cumstance augmented the Pope's Suspicion and Curiosity; for without this it had been slighted. The Art of Decyphering was not yet in use, and the Pope cou'd only learn from Nini the tenour of the Letter. His Holiness sent for Nini; and he, instead of setting a good Face on't, gave so many tokens of Surprize and Fear, that the Pope press'd him the more; and as he continu'd obstinate, denying Complyance with his Holiness, he threatned to put him upon the Rack. He ap­pear'd then so unhing'd, that he gave occasi­on to execute upon him, what had been on­ly propos'd to fright him; the Instruments of Torture were brought, and Nini had no sooner seen them, but that he discover'd the place where he had hid the Cypher, which Cardinal Petrucci had left with him. Thus other Mysteries came to light than those they hunted after.

Not that the Conspiracy was, in this Let­ter, so plainly coucht, as to be understood, but so many Particularities were there, which serv'd to hint it, that the Pope was advis'd nevertheless to put Nini to the Rack, tho' he had deliver'd the Cypher. And indeed they [Page 405]began torment him, but on the first pain he felt, he reveal'd all he knew; and as his De­tention had been so secret, that his very Servants knew not what was become of him, he having been call'd out in the name of one of his Intimate Friends▪ The Pope did not despair of decoying Cardinal Petrucci and Verselli, the two principal Accomplices, in the Snare prepar'd for them, tho' absent at that time. And this Contrivance was us'd to draw them int [...] [...]e Noose. Inquiry was made, in what place Verselli resided at that time, and they were inform'd, that the Gonfalionere of Florence, call'd Gori, had sent for him to Cure him of a secret Malady: This Magistrate was devoted to the House of Medici; and the Pope, who trusted in him, sent him word, that he might make use of Verselli; but that he shou'd cause him to be watcht with so much diligence, as that he might not escape out of his reach, that so he might be able to restore him in due time, and when he requir'd him at his hands.

The Commission was difficult to accom­plish, because Verselli was to be secur'd, without his knowing of it himself. But Go­ri was so dextrous, that he fullfill'd his di­rections, by causing him to come and lodge at his House, and by furnishing him with sufficient Recreations in his own Family, so [Page 406]as not to be oblig'd to go seek them else-where▪ What made the Pope act in this manner was, that he had a mind to attract Cardinal Pe­trucci to Rome, a thing not to be thought of, if it appear'd that he had secured Verselli, by reason that the Cardinal wou'd instantly have harbour'd a suspicion of the Conspiracy's being discover'd. Thus, while Verselli was unwittingly a Prisoner at Florence, the Craf­tiest Emissary of the Court of Rome was sent to the Cardinal, to prevail with him to come thither. The Pretext was, that the Pope seeing his Nephew wounded, and being not able to hinder his Troops from disbanding, or to debauch those of the Duke d'Ʋrbino, his Holiness was no longer in a Condition to maintain his Authority in Sienna, and re­solv'd to re-establish Petrucci with Decorum in that Town, before he seem'd to do it out of Compulsion. This Fiction was so conforma­ble to the posture of Affairs at that time, that Cardinal Petrucci, with all his shrewd­ness took it for truth; and the Pope having sent to him thereupon, that he only waited his Return, to contrive with him the man­ner, by which Old Petrucci was to return into Sienna. He suffer'd himself to be per­suaded to take a Journey to Rome, and to present himself at the Popes Anti-Chamber, where he was seiz'd and clapt immediately [Page 407]into a Dungeon. A Courier was forthwith dispatcht away to Florence, where Verselli was nabb'd playing at Dice, and, under a good Guard, brought away to Rome.

As Cardinal Petrucci's Detention cou'd not be secret, the Pope had giv'n Order to assem­ble the Consistory, as soon as he had set Foot in the Palace, and all the Cardinals, then at Rome, met accordingly, thinking their Convention was to regulate the affairs of Si­enna. But they were very much startled, to see the Pope's severe Countenance, and to hear his Holinesses Speech, which cou'd not be more spirited, and more touching. He exagerated the Benefits he had heaped upon the Sacred Colledge, for the making them the better conceive the Ingratitude. Then he spoke of a Conspiracy framed against his Life, by some Cardinals, without further explaining his Mind. He concluded with offering to pardon them, if they own'd the Crime at that very instant, and askt his Par­don in the presence of their Fraternity; and on the contrary, protesting to abandon them to the utmost rigours of the secular Arm, if they neglected the moment he now granted them of Clemency.

Cardinals Soderini and Corneto rose up from their Seats, and prostrated themselves at the Popes Feet, who pardon'd them, [Page 408]in consideration of a Fine of ten thousand Crowns each. This slight Contravention to his Word, joyn'd to the signs of Indignati­on, which appear'd in spight of him in his Face, made Cardinal Corneto judge it conve­nient, to trust it only with reserve. He went his ways home to shift his own emi­nency into a Disguise, he put on the Garb of a Reaper, and slunk out of Rome thus ridi­culously travesty'd. He only beat the hoof by Night, till he came into his own Country, where he spent the rest of his days in chang­ing his Forms and lurking Holes, so strong­ly was he still persuaded, notwithstanding what had happen'd, that the effect of the Predictions I have mention'd, was inevita­ble. Yet nothing of what he expected came to pass, tho' the Magician had not told him one syllable of a Lye; for the Pope dy'd young, and of an unforeseen Death. His Successor, call'd Adrian, was the Son of a Flemming Bear-Brewer, that had rais'd his Fortune by his Learning, and possess'd but one Bishoprick, which the Emperour, whose Tutor he had been, made him, as it were by force, accept of. All the Equivocation in the matter, and what deluded Cardinal Corneto, lay in Adrian's not being yet of the Sacred Colledge, nor was he admitted of it, till the Promotion I am going to relate.

Cardinal Soderini banish'd himself to Fun­di, where he dy'd of Melancholly; and Car­dinal Riario was neither made a Prisoner, nor under the prosecution of the Law, for the same Reason that had engag'd him in the Conspi­racy: For the Pope being afraid that he shou'd be upbraided, with having reveng'd the ancient Quarrels of his House, if he put to Death that Old Cardinal, who refus'd to ask his Pardon, contented himself with ex­acting from him a hundred thousand Crowns, on Condition he shou'd go abide in the King­dom of Naples, where he had many Bene­fices.

Thus Cordinal Sauli was the only Person taken into Custody, at his going out of the Consistory, and popt into a Dungeon. Thus far the Pope had acted in the Formalities, but so did he not continue; for instead of Com­missioning Cardinals, for the Tryal of their Brothers, or nominating at least two of them, to assist at drawing up the Malefactors Processes, till it was time to give the Verdict in the wonted manner, the Sacred Colledge was interdicted the cognizance of it, and all the Accomplices were indifferently referr'd, without distinction of Quality, to the com­mon Judges for Criminal Matters, who in a little time made them undergo a most severe Justice.

Cardinal Petrucci, after having had his Members dislocated on the Rack, was strang­led in the Dungeon, by an Aethiopian, call'd Orlando; and his Secretary Nini underwent the like Fate. The Operator Verselli was drawn upon a Hurdle, Hang'd, his Flesh tort with Pincers, and Quarter'd. Cardinal Sauli ran a risque of his Life, if he had been less belov'd by the Popes Eldest Sister. This fair Lady, who had an Almighty Credit o're her Brother's Dispositions, threw her self at his Feet, and wou'd not be got up, till she had obtain'd Sauli's Pardon.

What absolutely incens'd the Sacred Col­ledge against the Pope was, That excessive Sums were exacted from the Parties that were Pardoned; for the way to punish Per­sons in their Purses, having not been as yet practis'd at the Court of Rome, they imagin'd that those who were made to redeem their Lives were innocent, and only put into the List of the Conspirators, as being known to be Rich, and that the Pope's Coffers wanted Money to continue the War of Ʋrbin. The Complaints the Cardinals made hereof, ex­asperated the Pope, and made him declare, he wou'd return no more into the Consisto­ry, since it was only full of his Enemies, till such time as he had introduc'd such trusty Persons in it, as that his Life might be therein [Page 411]safety: And, indeed, in a few days after he made a Promotion of one and thirty Car­dinals. In this number eight there were of high Birth, the principal of whom, was Pompey Colonna, who prov'd the most dangerous Enemy, the House of Medici has ever had; the rest were divided; for some of 'em were barely indebted, for their Dignity, to their own Merit. Others had the Cap out of Fa­vour, as the Pope's Physician, who propo­sing his Son the Evening afore the Promoti­on, and his Holiness excusing it, upon his ha­ving already giv'n his Word to thirty Per­sons; the Physician reply'd to him, That as matters then stood, it wou'd not be thought the more strange at Rome, that the Promoti­on was of one and thirty Persons, than if it were just thirty. In short, some there were that dishonour'd the Sacred Purple, by ha­ving been chosen out of low'r Motives.

In the mean while Cardinal Bibiana, who Commanded what remain'd of the Ecclesi­stick Troops, in the Dutchy of Ʋrbin, call'd out for Succours. He had to do with an Enemy, who left him not at quiet; and his Souldiers, spighted at obeying a Man of such low Extraction, as Bibiana, threatned to kill him, when he made them undergo the least hardship. The Pope writ through­out all Europe for a re-inforcement, and at [Page 412]length set his Army again on foot, tho' it did not answer the hopes he had conceived of its Performances; for it was beaten be­fore Pizarro; and the Duke d'Ʋrbino was upon the point of ruining it to all Intents, when the Pope renew'd the design of spiri­ting o're his Troops. He employ'd for this purpose eight hundred thousand Crowns, and the subtle Hugo de Montadez was his Instrument in this Project. This shrew'd Spaniard, if ever there was one, who began then only to enter upon the great Employ­ments, through which he pusht on since, by all manner of ways, did so well adjust his Intrigues, that the Duke d'Ʋrbino came to be abandoned on a sudden, when he least expected it: and all the Favour afforded him by the Deserters, was leave to retire, and take along his Moveables and his Li­brary.

Then the Pope invested anew Lorenzo de Medici with the Dutchy of Ʋrbin, and sollici­ted Francis the First, to give him in Mar­riage the Heiress of the House of Bologna, which was granted him. The Duke of Al­bania performed the Negotiation, and was promis'd, in Recompence, to be made Gene­ral of the first League, that shou'd be fram'd against the Turks. A stately entrance was made the Princess at Florence, where the [Page 413]Match was Consummated; but she dyed nine Months after in Child-bed, of Katharine of Medices, who is to be the principal Subject of this Work. The News of her Decease was brought to Rome, in the time a Courier arriv'd, that with amazement fill'd the Town. He had been dispatcht by the Re­publick of Venice, and brought news, that Selim had seiz'd on Aegypt and Syria.

This Augmentation of Pow'r dispos'd the Christian Princes, to form a League with the Pope, against the Infidels. The Plan that was drawn of it, cou'd neither be more Re­gular, nor more Magnificent. The Empe­rour living then in a profound Peace, and, by Consequence, able to bring on foot an in­finite number of Souldiers, was to invade Thrace, thro' Bulgaria, with the Forces of Germany, and the Cavalry of Poland and Hungary. Francis the 1st. promis'd to em­bark at Brindi, with the Croisacles of France and Italy, which amounted to above two hundred thousand Men, for the making a Descent into Albania, where the People waited for an occasion to Revolt. The Eng­lish, Spaniards, and Portugals, had under­took to fit out two hundred Galleys, which shou'd bear away for Constantinople, where the Pope wou'd go in Person with a hundred o­ther Galleys, of which he wou'd be at half-charge [Page 414]with the State of Venice. But a Me­decine unseasonably taken, dissipated this vast Project. The Emperour Maximilian had got a fancy to take a Purge, at his return from Wild-Boar Hunting, and this cost him his Life; or that his Humours were too much stirr'd and fermented, or that he had done too much Exercise the day afore. Two Illustrious Rivals put in to succeed him, namely, Charles his Grand-son, and Francis the First. But they went to work in two different manners. Charles backt his Pre­tentions with a good Army, which appear'd in the Low Countrys; and Francis rested satisfy'd with buying with ready Money, the Suffrages of the Electors.

The Pope sent Roberto Orsini to the Diet, to prevent the Election of either of these Candidates; and Orsini, the most dexterous Negotiator of his time, did not remain long at Francfort, without penetrating, by his wonderful acuteness, into the secret of the Affair. He wrote to his Holiness in a Di­spatch, that cannot be sufficiently Commen­ded, that the Germans paulm'd upon Francis the First, by taking the Gold and Silver of France, and that not one Elector was there, but wou'd refuse him his Vote, when the time came to give it; that indeed less Repugnance did they harbour in their Minds for Prince [Page 415] Charles, but that neither wou'd it go on his [...]ide, provided there were upon the Rank, a German Prince capable of expending at a Rate fitting to uphold the Majesty of the Em­pire. Upon this Foundation the Pope endea­uour'd to undeceive Francis the First, and banish out of his mind his Pretension to the Empire, by shewing him the impossibility of his attaining it. He discover'd to him the E­lector's Intentions, and added that he had no­thing more to do, than traverse, by all manner of means, the Election of Charles, because that Italy and France might well harbour all manner of Apprehensions from a Prince, who cou'd employ all the Iron in Germany, with the Gold the Indies began to and him in abundance. His Holiness far­ther observ'd, that the surest means to hin­der him, was to Cabal for the Marquis of Brandenbourg, who had already his own Suffrage in Quality of Elector, and held him­self assur'd of that of his Brother, the Arch­bishop of Mentz, that the five other Ele­ctors wou'd declare themselves infallibly for him, as soon as they shou'd see him backt by France, and the Holy See; but that without these two Protections they wou'd lift up Charles to the Empire.

The Most Christian King did not receive his Office with the same sincerity it was [Page 416]paid, so difficult a thing is it, for a Man to be persuaded by the same Persons, by whom he thinks he has already been deceiv'd. His Maje­sty fancy'd it to be an Artifice us'd to make him renounce his own Glory. His answer spoke him a Prince, that thought himself Cock­sure of attaining his Aims; and the Pope see­ing his obstinacy, did no longer doubt, but that Charles wou'd be chosen, and unwilling by Consequence, unseasonably to incense him any longer by Fruitlesly cross-biting his E­lection, he wrote to Roberto Orsini, to pro­mote and favour his Pretences, which he did with so good a Grace, that Charles was ob­lig'd to his Holiness for his Offices, or at least he so himself exprest.

In the height of this Intrigue, the Pop­receiv'd the most sensible Affliction he was capable of, by losing young Lorenzo de Medi­ci, his Nephew, who dyed of an Intempe­rance. He left but one Legitimate Daugh­ter, and a Bastard Son. Thus there only remain'd of the Masculine Line of Cosmo the old, the Pope, and Cardinal de Medici. The Cardinal de Medici was not in a Capacity to raise up his House again; for besides his be­ing a Priest, his Birth lay expos'd to so much Cavil, that Ecclesiastical Dignities were a much fitter Province for his Circumstances they being a Sphere which none gain-said [Page 417]him, than for him to Usurp a Station in the World, wherein the Popes Legitimation was not sufficient to maintain him.

Thus the Pope's Ambition having not a Domestick object more to promote, was thenceforward altogether busy'd in signali­zing his Pontificate, by acts transcending, or it least equalling that of Giulio the second▪ his Predecessour. He sent the Cardinal de Medici to Florence, there to supply Loren­ce's Room, commanded him to govern it with as much gentleness, as that young Man had affected harshness. And indeed, Loren­ce had been dazl'd with his Uricle's Gran­deur. And his Flatterers had made a shift to Corrupt him to all Intents. He imagin'd himself the greatest Captain of his time, for that he had a Body proper to support all the fatigues of War; and in this Conceit, in­stead of flattering the Florentines in their Commerce, he only talkt of Military Fun­ctions, and had nought imported from Fo­reign Countries, save Arms and Horses. The Conquest of Ʋrbin had inspir'd him with the [...]sign of re-establishing the ancient King [...] of Hetraria in the same state, as at the [...]ginning of the Roman Common-wealth; [...] as the Republicks of Sienna and Lucca [...]le a part of that Kingdom, Lorenzo was go­ [...]g to despoil them of the little Liberty they [Page 418]had left. He had already taken the Draught of a Fortress at Saumimato of Florence, and that once built, he wou'd have demanded of the Emperour, to Erect Tuscany into a King­dom, and if he had been refus'd, be wou'd have made his Addresses to his Uncle.

The Florentines being no strangers to this Project, might well fear its being prosecuted, by the Cardinal de Medici; and Despair was but too capable of hurrying them to the ut­most Extremities against his Person, if he had not at first express'd his coming, to be only to repair the Failures of their late Ru­ler, and re-instate the People in perfect Free­dom. He did it not however; for he re­mitted nor the choice of Magistrates, but bating that point, he suffer'd them to enjoy all the other Priviledges, serving to so [...] and flatter them in the Opinion the Medi­ci's were glad they shou'd entertain of their pretended Franchise. The Pope was, in [...] mean time, industrious to improve the P [...] ­lity of Rome, and made Noble Regulation [...] for the removing and rooting out the See [...] of Feuds and Quarrels, transmitted from [...] ­thers to Children. For since the Factions [...] the Guelphs and Gibellines, a Man that [...] been anothers Heir, was bound to reve [...] him on all his Enemies, and if he declin'd [...] doing, out of Pusillanimity, or a Princip [...] [Page 419]of Religion, slink and retire he must out of the World, and pass all his Life in Infamy, without daring to appear in Publick. Then his Holiness sertled a Colony in Rome, in the place where the Field of Mars had been, and Peopl'd it with poor Lombards, whom the Wars of Milan had compell'd to change their Country.

He easily pardon'd all sorts of Crimes, pro­vided they did not disturb the Publick Quiet; and the unfortunate Giovanni Paulo Biglioni cou'd not obtain any Favour for some Ex­actions he had Committed at Perouza, tho' all the Court of Rome interceded in his be half, and that the House of Medici was [...]incipally indebted to him for its Restaura­tion in Florence. The Pope sent for him under so specious a Pretence, that he suffer'd himself to be noos'd, however Crafty in o­ther matters, The Orsini, who lost in him their best Refuge, he having never fail'd [...]ing to their Succours, with two or three thousand Souldiers, upon the first Summons, [...]ain set a going all manner of Engines for [...] safety. Nevertheless was he beheaded, [...] yet only impeach'd of the least of the [...]imes he had Committed: For this execra­ [...]e Wretch kept his own Daughter in the [...]ce of the whole World, and had neither [...]gard to Religion, or to Publick Faith, in a­ [...]y other Rencounter.

The Punishment of Sebastian de Trevese, had more affecting Circumstances. This Man, the most famous Lawyer of his time, having been [...]ercht from Padoua to Rome, to teach the Law. He acquitted himself admirably well of his Profession, and had not yet been rebuk'd by Justice, when he came to be Convicted of having been Concern'd in the Falsification of a Publick Act. However, the pope wou'd have him to be proceeded a­gainst, with all the Severity of the Laws, and burnt he was alive in the Field of Flora On the contrary secret Crimes, and those that did not directly clash the Authority of the Holy See, or the frame of Government then in vogue; were neither call'd to account nor punish'd. In their regard did his Holi­ness affect to pass for Debonnairei.

His innate Magnificence [...]endred his Pope doth so much the more famous, in that A­lexander and Giulio his Predecessors had only [...] Liberal to Souldiers. People were o­ver joy'd to see them succeeded by a Man [...] hardly stinted or deni [...]'d the least [...] their Desires, and he excus'd himself with such a Gracefulness, when under the c [...] ­straint of a Refusal, that not a [...] Mortal w [...] discontented from him. All sorts of Person [...] see him during the Repaste; and if [...] observ'd 'em to be in necessity, he deligh [...] [Page 421]in making them draw near, and distributing among them a Purse of Duccates, which he took care to fill every morning, and never pass'd a day without emptying it. As he lov'd Luxury and Pleasure, People were not wanting to propose to him, all they judg'd capable of satisfying those two Inclinations. At this his best Friends conniv'd, instead of reproving it, and became themselves the Mi­nisters of his Wantonnesses and Riots, as be­ing assur'd thereby to keep their Tenures in his Favour. Besides, most of the Cardinals liv'd in such Excesses, as were little different from those of the Pope.

Thus the Sacred Colledge did much dege­nerate from what it was wont to be; for heretofore none were admitted into it, save Persons of Ability and Merit; and these Per­sons having no other Fund to subsist on, than a mean Pension giv'n them by the Popes, were remote from Luxury, as much our of necessity, as inclination. But the Mode be­ing introduc'd, under the four foregoing Popes, to present the Cap to younger Sons of Soveraign Houses under Colour that those young Princes did it honour, in [...]earing it, and those fame Persons, being [...]esides possess'd of the best Benefices, that [...]ll vacant in States, that so they might not [...] much Complain of being frustrated of [Page 422]succeeding in the Temporalty. The abun­dance of so many Riches and Conveniencies had augmented the Luxury of their House [...], and this Luxury appear'd in all its lustre a [...] Rome, for that their Relations were rather inclin'd they shou'd there abide, than in their own Country, where their Residence stood not with so much safety, for fear they shou'd be whirl'd with the Fancy of raising Combustions, as had been experienc'd in the Cardinal of Ferrara, who, after having been a while peaceable in that City, yet incontinent­ly after the Death of Duke Hercules, his Father, was not contented with Conspiring against his Eldest Brother, but had moreover engag'd his two younger in the same Plot, so as Duke Alfonso escap'd not otherwise than by Miracle from the Ambuscades of his three Brothers.

Among the Cardinals of Soveraign Fami­lies, were then reckon'd those of Naples, of Ferrara, of Mantoua, of Massa, and of Bi­signan. The number of their Domesticks was six times greater, than that of others. They had all Equipages of Hunting, and Sta­bles, which People went to view out of Ad­miration, the Hunting matches they made with the Pope, brought into the Field such a multitude of Birds, of Dogs, and Huntsmen, that whole Forests and Valleys were sometimes encompass'd with Nets, and depopulated of Game.

Cardinal Bibiana had moreover introduc'd another Recidation, of no less Expence, namely, the representation of Plays, in a stately Hall of the Vatican, wherein the De­corations were chang'd each Act. Their whole business was to provoke Mirth and Laughter, and no fault did People find with the Subjects being too Libertine. The greatest Mischief herein consisted, that the Children of the best Families, and the Han­somest, were invited to mount upon the Stage, and serve for Actors.

The Pope had another Infirmity, where­of I shall alledge two Examples, since it is difficult to find, in History, another Person subject to the like. As he was of a Facetious Humour, and lov'd to let nothing scape, without turning it to his Diversion, as soon as he perceiv'd a Man prepossess'd with a good Opinion of himself, he applauded him in all occasions, and made it his business to flatter him, till such time as he caus'd this Principle of Vanity, to degenerate into Ex­travagance. That Secretary of his, the ablest man alive for Chancery Expeditions, was call'd Evangelist Tarasconi: This Person had the weakness to neglect what he knew to Per­fection, and pretended to Sciences he did not understand. As he cou'd not be ignorant that the Pope delighted more in Musick, than [Page 424]in other Arts, as being therein most skill­ful and refin'd, he apply'd his mind to't, without other design at first, than the being capable to talk regularly of Simphony. But as his Talent lay not this way, he mi­stook the Bent and Sense of the things shew'd him by his Masters. The Pope quickly per­ceiv'd it, and was not wanting to persuade him, that he made an admirable Progress, in­stead of minding him, that a Man ought ne­ver to study in spight of Minerva.

Tarasconi believ'd the Pope spoke Truth, and so addicted his Thoughts to Musick, that it crackt his Brain. I shall not relate in this place the particulars of his Follies; I will on­ly say, that they never tyr'd the Patience of him that occasion'd them; for the Pope suffer'd him publickly to maintain, that no Man, afore him, understood Musick, and let him alter all the Rules of that Art. Nay, his Holi­ness proceeded still farther; for he made him the Arbiter of all the Symphony of his House, and promis'd him, on a day of Ce­remony, to cause the Musicians Arms to be bound, under Colour, that their Nerves be­ing fast ty'd, they wou'd touch the Strings with more steddiness and delicacy. At last, the Pope consented to the taking down the Tapistry of the Hall, where he din'd, upon a request presented him by Tarasconi, groun­ded [Page 425]upon this, that the Voices of the Musicians, and the sound of the Instruments coming to strike the Silk and Woolen of the Tapistry, lost thereby their Force, and soft'ned by the same Reason that the Canon produc'd so little effect upon the like Materials, whereas if those Voices, and that sound broke them­selves directly upon the Walls and Marble of the Hall, the Reflection wou'd be more entire and neat, and wou'd return more shrill to the Ears, and with a more agreea­ble sound.

After Tarasconi, Baraballi de Gayeto serv'd for a May-game to the Court of Rome. A Man, he was of a good Family, and well made of his Person, thought himself the best Italian Poet of his time, tho' a thing im­possible to make more wretched Verses than those of his, which nevertheless he rehears'd gracefully enough. As soon as the Pope had heard him in his way, he perceiv'd his Self­conceit, and persuaded him; that never in this World, was there such stately Composi­tions, as his Verses. Baraballi, at first, fancy'd his Holinesses Discourse to be the effect of his Goodness; but the Pope strain'd so long to give immoderate Praises to this poor Poet, every time he came to recite new Pieces to him, that he quite unhing'd his [Page 426]Brain. He put it in his Head, that he was another Petrarch, and whirl'd him with a desire to Triumph, as that Poet had done in Rome. The Pope took upon him to be at all the Charge of the Solemnity, and sent throughout all Europe, to invite the Tribe of Parnassus. All the Ceremonies that are to usher in an Action of this Importance, were seriously observ'd; and the Pope, to render it the more ridiculous, wou'd needs have Baraballi to be mounted upon an Elephant, a present newly made his Holiness by the King of Portugal. The Day was appointed, and all the Learned Men in Italy were in­vited to honour, with their Presences, a Ce­remony that had not been practis'd for three hundred years past, under pretence of paying them the Expences of their Journeys, imme­diately upon their Arrival, and that they shou'd have a sufficient Allowance for their return home, after having been treated Magnificently, during their stay.

The News of this being brought to Gaieto, created Fear and Vexation. Baraballi's Re­lations hasten'd to Rome, to divert him from a Project, which over-whelm'd both them, and their Posterity, with Shame and Scandal; but they could not in the least prevail o're so prepossess'd a Soul, on the contrary, he tre [...] ­ted them as Enviers of his Glory, and as He­reticks, [Page 427]that had not a due Opinion of the Popes Justice and Sincerity, since they ima­gin'd his Holiness design'd to impose upon the World. Thus the day being come ('twas the Feast of San Cosmo, and San Damiano, which the House of Medici own'd as their Protector) the Poets, fantastically Garbed, went to take up Baraballi at his own House, and Conducted him to the Feast prepared for him at the Popes.

The Spectacle afforded so much the more pleasure, in that it was hard to find, through­out all Europe, an Old Man of a better Mien than the Triumpher. He was extra­ordinarily tall, and proportionably big, had a fresh ruddy Countenance, and a venerable [...]eard. He had on the Triumphal Robe, and was array'd in all the Trappings, and sur­rounded with all the pomp, wherewith the Ancients had flatter'd the Vanity of their Heroes. The Pope, who had an admirable lucky knack in all sorts of Ceremonies, pe­culiarly delighted in having this perform'd with the utmost exactness. Baraballi recited, with a Tone wherein he was observ'd to ap­plaud himself the Essay he had Compos'd, to stand as his Master-piece. All the other Po­ets pretended to admire it, and protested, no­thing comparable cou'd issue from their Veins. The Judges, upon their avowal, ap­pointed [Page 428]the Triumph, and Baraballi descen­ded into the Court of the Vatican, while the Pope stood at a Window to see him mount the Elephant.

This Animal was very docible, and shew'd some sort of Complaisance for his Gold Em­broider'd Saddle, and Purple House, which he was not wont to wear, he gently suf­fer'd Baraballi to get on his back, and him­self to be led along tow'rds the Capitol; but when he came to pass o're the Bridge, he fell into such a Fury, and caus'd the Tri­umpher to make so great a Leap, that had not the Rails sav'd him, the Triumpher had fall'n into the River; then scour'd the Ele­phant back, and topsey-turvey'd all in his way, from the Bridge to the Vatican, that is to say, the whole Troop of Poets. What render'd the Scene still the more diverting was; that the Elephant return'd into the Pope's Court with the same Docility, and without appearing any more mov'd, than if he had thrown no body down. He was thought to have been first startl'd into that wildness, by the sight of so many People, or by being surpriz'd with the confus'd sound of so many Voices and Instruments, eccho­ing on all sides.

The Passion the Pope shew'd for good Cheer, made him love the Conversation of [Page 429]four the most famous and agreeable Parasites, at that time in Italy, namely, the youngest of Poggio's Children, Sacramore, the Che­valier Brandini, and Moine Bousoni Mariani. They invented Sawces for a new fort of Kick­shaw, only stuff'd with what was most deli­cate in the Flesh of Pheasants, and cost so dear, that the Pope's Successour, cou'd not forbear having him in Execration, when he examin'd the Expence of his Table. The Parasites were there receiv'd at certain days, and treated in the manner they desir'd, on Condition they wou'd endure, without ta­king Pet, all the little Malices, that were put upon them by the Officers in the Kitchin, who made it their whole Contrivance, to im­pose on their Taste and Gusto, and caus'd them to eat the Flesh of Crows and Mon­keys, under the Cover of some other Meats.

The Pope was likewise careful to invite the Cardinals on the first day of August, and with them while away the After-noon, in playing at Cards; but all the Money Gam'd for, and all the Winnings were di­stributed to the Poor; but he had an aversi­on for Dice, yet plaid so perfectly well at Chess, that none ever beat him at it. He abstain'd from Meat on Wednesdays, and eat only Herbs on Frydays, and never supp'd on [Page 430] Saturdays. I have but one Circumstance to relate upon the abuse of his Indulgences, that has scap'd Padre Paulo, namely, that they shew'd, in Germany, a Bull, which set a Crown Tax for admittance into Paradise.

He neglected the Fabrick of St. Peter, so finish the Gallery of the Vatican, Painted by Rofaele d'Ʋrbin, that incomparable Work­man, that brought Painting to a point of Perfection, unknown since Apelles. He dy'd when thirty six years old, by the Popes and his own fault. He had a promise to be made Cardinal, and no doubt had been so at the first Promotion. The Pope delighted in Discoursing him, and almost daily sur­vey'd his Work. He saw him once extra­ordinarily heated, and, feeling his Pulse, found that he had a Feaver. He comman­ded him to get his ways to Bed, and had him blooded by a Chyrurgeon; but he knew not that this Painters Fermentation proceeded from an over abundant dalliance with a Lady. And as Blooding is ever mor­tal in such like Cases, and that Rafaele did not discover his Infirmity to the Chyrurge­on, he fell into a drooping, which couch'd him in his Grave. He had laid the Design, and himself drawn the first Patterns of the Tapist [...]y, which the Pope caus'd to be made in Flauders, and those Pattern [...] were so well [Page 431]wrought and accomplisht upon Silk and Woolen, that the Pope had reason to be therewith satisfy'd, tho' the suit of Hang­ings cost him sev'nty thousand Crowns.

Nevertheless I must note in this place, that Symony was neither so great nor so publick under the Popedom of Leo, as it had been under those of Alexander and Julius: For tho' the great Penitentiary was prepossess'd with two Maximes, which seem'd to Esta­blish the Venality of Benefices, tho' he main­tain'd that the Pope purg'd all sorts of Symo­nies, and cou'd not commit any: I have found nevertheless in Authentick Memoirs, that Leo did pretty often take the pains to examine the Expeditions, which this Peni­tentiary presented him to Sign, and twing'd him, sometimes with severe Corrections, yet without threatning to turn him out of his Place, as being in truth the shrewdest Man in Italy for the Canon-Law.

I have likewise found in the same place, that Giulio Blanci, his Favourite, nick'd his time, to make him sign a Request, when his Holiness was so in haste, that he had not the leisure to peruse it. But Blenci being not wont to concern himself in such like matters, the Pope suspected some trick, and leaving what he had to do, read the Request quite o're; he found he was petition'd to unite [Page 432]two Benefices scituated in two Provinces remote from one another; and the Motive of him who sollicited the Union, was to raze a Church, that stood too near his Ca­stle, which none wou'd have oppos'd, if the Priory of that Church, with which his Son was endow'd, had been join'd to another Pri­ory, which the same Son held in another Province. But the Pope did not trouble himself with inquiring into the whole mat­ter, he only ask'd Blanci, how much he had been promis'd to get the passing of that Re­quest, and Blanci, thinking he stood well enough in his Masters mind, to own the truth to him, with impunity, made answer, he shou'd get two hundred Crowns. He had no sooner bolted these words, but the Pope ran to a Trunck, wherein he had Money, took out two hundred Crowns, gave them to Blanci, and tore the Request.

In this manner did the Pope handle parti­cular Affairs, while Fortune was labouring to embroil him with France. He had not had any tye with the Most Christian King, since young Lorenzo de Medici's Alli­ance had prosper'd so ill. On the contrary, he complain'd loud enough, that, at Paris, the French Ministry had spirited from him Cardinal Bibiana, as to take away all shad­dow of Doubt, but that he was contriving [Page 433]to be reveng'd, tho' the manner of that Car­dinals dying after his return, at his coming from an entertainment, at which the Pope had presented him a Bit, which he durst not refuse, had not Convinc'd the most Incre­dulous. Besides, he cou'd hardly disgest that the French Governour of Milan, wou'd neither suffer the Benefices of that Dutchy to be enjoy'd by others, than those that espous'd the Interests of France, nor allow who­ever disputed them, to go plead at Rome, where­as, afore the Holy See was in Possession, of no­minating with full Right, and of judging Sove­raignly the Processes which arose in that matter.

The Emperour had then, at Rome; an Ambassadour, John Manuel by Name who serv'd him with so much the more Zeal, in that he had been more a Favourite of Philip the First, his Father, than any other Spani­ard, and had suffer'd Persecutions from King Ferdinand, after the death of that young Prince. This Minister had all the Qua­lities requisite for Negotiation, and had in­sinuated himself into the Pope's Affection, by giving him overtures, which nevertheless [...]d not speed, for securing of Luther at the Diet of Wormes. And as he had discover'd that his Holiness wou'd not be sorry to enter [...]to a War against France, provided he might [...] furnish'd with a specious Pretext; he pro­pos'd [Page 434]to him, in his Master's Name, the Plan of a League, that cou'd not be better contriv'd; for the Emperour was to be at all the Charges, and run all the risque, without reaping any apparent advantage. He took upon him to raise and maintain the Armies: He left to the Pope the liberty of naming their General; he consented they shou'd receive from his Holiness, the most material Orders, upon what they shou'd undertake, in short expos'd himself to the losing the Kingdom of Naples, in case they came by the worst. Nevertheless he renounc'd the Fruits, which the League might thereby reap, if Fortune favour'd his Arms; and making before hand but two Lots of the Spoil and Booty of the French, he gave one of them, namely, the States of Parma and Plasanza, to the Holy See; and th' other, containing the rest of Milan, was to be re­stor'd to the Sforza's, without the Empe­rour's exacting ought else, than a new Oath, from him that shou'd be therewith invested.

The Design was too well laid, for the Pope to resist the temptation of espousing it. He sign'd the Articles, that were presented him, without making the least Alteration; and as there's no being without Money, in the be­ginning of a War, he created four hundred Offices of Knights, which were sold at a [Page 435]thousand Crowns a-piece, by assigning them a hundred Crowns Revenue, upon good Funds. He pitcht his Eyes upon Prospero Colonna for the Generalship, as supposing the Marquis de Pescairo, Commanding the Spa­nish Infantry, wou'd cotton well enough with him, after having Marry'd his Niece. But mistaken was he in his Conjecture, and the Army of the League had no sooner be­gun to act, but that Prospero and Pescairo fell out, and clasht more than if there had been no Alliance between them.

Their Discord occasion'd the raising of the Siege of Parma, and plung'd their Troops into an irresolution, which wou'd not have fail'd of ruining them, if the Pope had not devis'd an Expedient, that fitted his purpose. Tho' he knew how necessary the Cardinal de Medici's Presence was at Florence, to con­tain the People in due Bounds: Yet he wrote to him to leave that Place, and go with all expedition to the Army, in quality of Legate, in order to reconcile the two principal Offi­cers, and put them again upon Action: The Cardinal de Medici obey'd, tho' he despair'd of [...]ccomplishing the Order he receiv'd. He [...]nd more Obstacles [...] [...]nount, than he had imagin'd; but yet [...] he more good [...]uck than trouble. He made Prospero re­ [...] a kind of Com-promise, which left him [Page 436]hardly more than the bare name of Gene­ral; and this Pescairo accepted, as finding it for his turn. Then the Cardinal induc'd them both to drive on the War into the Cen­tre of Milan. This they consented to; and Lautrec having not been able to hinder them the passage of Loglio, as being abandon'd by the Suizzers, in default of payment, they were Masters of the Field, and presented themselves before the Gates of the principal Cities, wherein they were receiv'd by the re­mains of the Ghibelline Faction. Those of Milan were likewise open'd to them by the Pallivici­ni's, in revenge for that Lautrec had put two Cavaliers of their Family to Death, without observing all the forms of Law; and the French were driven out of Lombardy the se­cond time, with as much ease as the for­mer.

The Pope receiv'd the news of this suc­cess, when a Hunting, and had at the same time a tumultuous Joy, that cast him into a Fever. He was wont to swallow, at his go­ing to Supper, Aloes Pills, which kept his Body open; and Serapita, his Valet de Cham­bre, whose business it was to present them to him, kept them so negligently in a Box, as render'd it easie to come at them, and take of them who wou'd: Two days afore the Pope fell ill, Lesbi, the Butler, was mind­ed [Page 437]to steal out a Couple, and swallow them, but was found dead the next morning in his Bed, tho' to sleep he went in perfect Health. The Pope took them at his usual hour, and perceiving they caus'd in him a thirsty alte­ration, call'd for Drink of Barnaby Malespi­na, who serv'd him with so bitter a Wine, that the Pope, who never complain'd of it at other times, cou'd not refrain from ma­king Faces, while a drinking; and telling Malespina, I fancy thou hast laid a Wager to make me drink Purle. Malespina made no Answer, and was contented with pouring out what Wine remain'd in the Bottle, and with fetching another.

The Pope supp'd with a good Appetite, and was neither ill that Evening, nor the Night ensuing; but on the morrow after, having read the Dispatch Cardinal de Medici wrote him from Milan, he was seen in too violent Impetuosities of Joy, for People to miss observing, that too much foreign heat was kindl'd in his Temperament. Yet not much minded at first, because they did not think there cou'd be excess in rejoycing at the Disgrace of the French. But the Head­ach, which the Pope complain'd of after­wards, caus'd some reflection to be made, tho' it startled them not so much, as the shuddering he underwent, when he askt [Page 438]for Drink. The Physicians, who observ'd this shivering, made no account of it; for besides its being neither great, nor of long continuance, it ended in so fine a breathing Sweat, that they positively declar'd, it wou'd cost his Holiness but that fit. How­ever they had him carry'd to Rome, but some Miles distant; and the Malady aug­menting still on the way; the first object that offer'd it self to the Pope, at his entrance into the Vatican, was an ill Omen; 'twas a Sculptor, who came to shew him the De­sign of a Mausoleum, the King of England in­tended to Erect for his Ancestors, of the House of Lancaster, whose Bones were ga­ther'd up throughout all the Countreys in Europe, where they dy'd in Exile. As the Pope understood Sculpture admirably well, he was very curious that way, and caus'd Michael Angelo to work on his own Scul­pture, which redoubl'd his Curiosity for such like works: And indeed he fail'd not to ex­amine that of England, and speak his Opini­on of it. As soon as in Bed, the Fever so di­minish'd, that the Physicians believ'd him Cur'd. He spent two hours in receiving the Congratulations of the Cardinals, upon the Prosperity of his Arms, and felt not any pain, during that Interval. But all of a sudden the Fever return'd, nay, and at the [Page 439]very first, with that violence, that it got into his Brain. Then did they judge the Distemper to be extream; all forts of Reme­dies were us'd to bring the Patient back into his right Senses; this they effected, and he recover'd his Reason, after six hours agita­tion, wherein they had observ'd all the symptoms of approaching Death. He o­pen'd his Eyes, and spoke, but no more than only to recommend his Soul to God, and to affirm he dy'd content, after having reco­ver'd Parma and Plaisanza, without shed­ding of Blood. Immediately he fell again into his Frenzy, and expir'd at one a Clock at Night, on the third of December, Fifteen hundred twenty one, being not yet full for­ty sev'n years old.

Never was Pope so lamented, by his Ser­vants, bating Malespina, who, at break of day, came to the Palace Gate, with an Equi­page of Hunting, and askt to be let out. The Suizzars, on the Guard, being fir'd with Indignation, to see a Man pursuing his Re­creations, in the midst of the publick Deso­lation, stopp'd him; and those who remem­bred what the Pope had said of the Glass of Wine he had giv'n him, thought themselves in duty bound to secure his Person, and clap Guards upon him. He was the more narrow­ly watcht, after that the Body being open'd, [Page 440]in it were found two infallible marks of Poyson; one, that the Heart was markt all o're with Black and Livid Spots, and th' o­ther, that the Spleen was so straitn'd and rivell'd up, that much ado they had to find it. The Cardinal de Medici had an account giv'n him of all these Particularities; and at his Arrival, all the late Popes Servants threw themselves at his Feer, and Conjur'd him to put Malespina to the Rack. But he wav'd doing it, upon his being press'd to enter the Conclave. Yet this was not what hindred him; and those who knew to the very bottom of his Soul, judg'd he forbore to examine into the Pope's Death, out of a refinement of Prudence, which made him fear finding, among the Culpable, Persons so qualify'd, as were able to break all the Measures he had taken to mount, in his turn, on the Throne of St. Peter. Thus Malespina was releas'd, without having suf­fer'd ought else than Imprisonment. He wander'd a long time in Italy, and at length setl'd himself in the City of Milan, where nine years after Pope Leo's Death, he was Con­demn'd to be Beheaded for an Assassination. He own'd nothing, at his Execution, of what related to the poysoning the Pope, and his silence has giv'n Historians occasion to be­lieve, nothing extraordinary to have been [Page 441]in that matter; and that the Wound remain­ing of the Ulcer, of which I have already spoken, coming to close, and the ill hu­mours, which Nature eas'd it self of that way from time to time, being barr'd vent and issue, had thrown themselves upon the no­ble Parts: They added to back their Senti­ments, that the South-wind blowing at that time, had rais'd from the Marshes, near the place where the Pope Hunted, a Pestilential Exhalation, that had more influence upon his Holiness, than on those of his Retinue, because that being more heated, the Pores of his Body were more open to the Con­tagious Air. But easie it is to answer to the first of those Arguments, that the Wound had been but too lately clos'd, to maintain that the ill humours could have had leisure to Corrupt the Heart and the Spleen to that degree they were found to be at the open­ing of the Body, besides that prodigious Thirst might be attributed to the Pills, which when poyson'd is unknown. It is as easie to answer to the second, in saying, that it is to divine and form a Chimerical Exha­lation, as to conceive one, of which the Popes Body only to be susceptible; for be­sides his being not the most fervent of the Company in the Pursuit, and that common­ly he did not over-heat himself; his Tem­perament [Page 442]was the most robust, and capable of resisting the Injuries of the Air, of all those of the Court of Rome: For neither was there a bigger, nor a more vigorous Man in his Court, and his Humours were in so just a proportion, that they cou'd not have been disorder'd, till after a hundred years Con­flict, if there had not been some Poyson in the business.

Be it as it will, never Pope dy'd of a Di­stemper, to which he had less Disposition. He was neither lean nor dry, and his Brain was too gross to be offuscated at first, by the bare Vapours of a slight Feaver. The much Exercise he us'd, shou'd exempt him from an unforeseen Oppression. He had nothing weak, besides his Eyes, and indeed they were very large, yet was he able to see to the smallest things, and read a long while, with­out being incommoded. Moreover he had got a sort of Spectacles, which he ever carry'd a­bout him, and principally a Hunting; they made him distinguish Birds and Beasts at a much greater distance, than other Persons cou'd do, and afforded him sometimes the pleasure of shooting and killing them, be­fore perceiv'd by others. Their Matter was of Chrystal, and their Figure Coneave. I have not met with the Workmans name, nor of him who presented them to the Pope; [Page 443]but certain it is, that his Holiness had no­thing so precious, and were not broken in the most violent Exercises.

He had a nice and pregnant Wit; and notwithstanding he had chosen for his Se­cretaries, the two most Eloquent Men of that Age; yet was he capable of turning a Letter as well as they, when so minded witness that he wrote to Cardinal de Medici, upon sending him to Milan, in quality of Legate; and the agreeable Billets he direct­ed to his Eldest Sister, Marry'd into the House of Cibo. He likewise compos'd easie and elegant Latin Verses, but did not so much delight in them, as in th' Italian; and as no man understood better than he, the finest Delicacy of the Tuscan Tongue, so no Man made more Elegant Sonnets, nor Elegies better contriv'd. He had taken the pains to read all the Celebrated Historians, and tho' he was too quick and hasty to have the patience to make extracts out of them; yet he had them so well imprinted in his mind, that he never fail'd of Citing their finest Pas­sages, when th' occasion so requir'd. He was so early accustom'd to judge of others Works, that his Criticisme was commonly infallible; and in the debates which arose a­mong the topping Wits, they appeal'd some­times from the Judgment of the Academy to [Page 444]his Holinesses. He officiated the Solemn Feasts with so much Grace and Majesty, that Spectators flocked thither from all Parts of Italy. The Most Christian King. Francis the First, after having seen him say Mass at Bo­logna, did affirm never to have been better Convinc'd of the importance of those Cere­monies, for the lifting up the mind to God. As the Virtue he most valu'd himself upon, was Liberality, he exercis'd it with an ad­dress, wholly peculiar to him. He had stu­dy'd to the very Gestures, and to the tone of the Voice, which were to be practis'd in gi­ving, that he might the better win the Heart of him, who receiv'd any thing from him; and never was there observ'd more Joy in a Face, than appear'd on his, when it chanc'd him to be able to prevent the Requests that People had to make him. He affected sad­ness, when constrain'd to refuse them; but this sadness was accompany'd with so tender an Aer, that People took his denial in no ill part. Ten Persons of Quality were once seen to demand of him the Arch-bishoprick of Ravenna; he had the same Civility for 'em all, discours'd 'em apart, pry'd, by their Discourse, into the secret of their Interests, and gave the Benefice to him he had a mind to gratify, without discontenting th' other Nine, because he gave or promis'd them o­thers, [Page 445]that seem'd fitter for their turns. When he gave, he still made his Excuses, for his not having opportunity of giving more; and the blushing, which never fail'd mounting into his Face, made it believ'd he spoke sin­cerely, and gave such vast I dea [...] of his Mag­nificence, that all the Revenues of the Pope­dom, wou'd not have been capable of supply­ing them, if he had giv'en all from him ex­pected.

He said his Father had enjoin'd him three Rules for his Conduct, at his sending him to Rome. The first, to use as much care to keep himself in his Friends Esteem, as he had ta­ken to acquire their Amity. The second, to repair, by continual Offices, the Decay, which absence made in the strictest Engagements. And the third, to live without Distrust, in what regarded his own Person, but to be ever diffident for the State, of which he made a part. In fine, he had, during his Life, and af­ter his Death, the two kinds of Happinesses, which most signalize the Governments of So­veraigns. I mean that Rome was extraordi­narily flourishing, during his Papacy, and so miserable, under the two following, that the Comparison of them cou'd not be made without regretting him, more than ever any Man had been. Nevertheless a small Disaster befell his Body, the night before the Fune­rals [Page 446]for the Servant, that watcht him alone, falling asleep, the Rats attracted, perhaps by the scent of the Perfumes, with which he was embalm'd, gnaw'd his Nose, for which Reason his Face was cover'd, during the Ceremony of the Obsequies.

The End of the Sixth Book.

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS. The Seventh Book.

AS no man understood better than Leo, to gain the Love of the topping Wits, by doing them good, no man had ever had so great a number of them in his Retinue, and Interests. Pomponius. Latus was the Brat of a Country Lass, whom the Prince of Salerno had abus'd, under the whea­dle [Page 448]of Marriage. He was brought up to War, and 'twas the ruin of the House of San Severino, of which his Father was the Eldest, that made him desist from that Profession. He was of the number of those Learned Men, who chang'd their Names, upon taking their Degrees in the University of Rome, and was subject to the Persecution that Platina and Cal­limachus endur'd on that account, when Paul the 2d, instead of laughing at this Whim, ima­gin'd it a Cover to a Conspiracy, brooded a­gainst his Life. Afterwards his Auditory was so fill'd, that a Man was forc'd to go thither by Midnight to get room. He went from his Lodging before Day, and carry'd himself his Lanthorn. A hard matter was it to under­stand him, when he spoke Familiarly, but he never stutter'd in his Explications. He Cook'd all his Meat himself, and the most Illustrious of his Scholars sometimes gave him a helping hand, in the Kitchin, for to ease him, when they had a mind to make advantage of the time he wou'd have spent in that Office. He has left a Grammar, and the History of the Emperours, and of the Ruins of Old Rome. He dy'd at sev'nty years of age, by having drunk Wine with Ice.

Callimachus, after having been put to the Rack, and tormented more than the other Virtuosi's, because he had assum'd a Greek [Page 449]Name, which the Pope did not at all under­stand, made his escape into Tuscany, his Na­tive Country, from whence Casimir King of Poland, call'd him to be the Tutor of his Eld­est Son, reigning since by the Name of Al­bert. He was this young Prince's Favourite, but the Counsel he gave him, to rid his hands of the principal Lords of Poland, by placing them at the Head of the Army, when a going to Fight the Moldavians, wrought his Disgrace, and rais'd him so many Ene­mies, as put the King under the Constraint of abandoning him. He found however at Vilna, the Capital City of Lithuania, a Friend, who hid him in his House, fed him, without making any body privy, no not so much as his own Wife, assisted him till Death, caus'd his Body to be dry'd in an Ov'n, put it into a Cup-board, and kept it till the an­ger of the Nobility being cool'd, he had an honourable Burial made him at Cracow, whi­ther his Bones were transferr'd. We have nothing left of his, save the Life of Ladislaus, King of Poland, and of Hungary, who dy'd in the Battel of Varnez, but 'tis so fine a Hi­story, that whosoever shall take the pains to read it, will judge, without my giving him the hint, that there never was a better since that of Tacitus.

Geronimo Savonarola, a Religious of St. Dominick, rubb'd out in a prodigious Austerity of Life at Florence, and made appear what Eloquence can do, when backt with the re­pute of Sanctity. He had the gift of Pro­phecy, and this is, perchance, the reason, that tho' he had a great esteem for Lorenzo de Medici, and for his Children, he wou'd ne­ver have any other engagements with them, than those of Study, as considering them al­ready as Persons that were to subject their Country. He govern'd his Republick for the space of four years, and was the sole Depu­ty to Negotiate at Pisa with Charles the 8th, whose coming he had long afore prognosti­cated. He declar'd publickly, that he wou'd be at Naples, and maintain his footing there, provided he caus'd his Troops to observe an exact Discipline; but that at all adventures he wou'd tread the Italians under Foot, at his return. It's somewhat a difficult business to say, what occasion'd the downfall of this new Prophet. Two things did thereto very much Contribute; one, the Reformation of Man­ners, which he aim'd at, introducing into Florence; and th' other, the Example he gave, for People to declaim Publickly against the Vices of Pope Alexander the 6th. Arm'd there were against him, the Relations of se­ven Gentlemen, whom he had caus'd to be [Page 451]put to Death; for having Conspir'd against the Government. They set Fire to the Convent Door, hall'd away those who ran in to his Defence, took him and Condemn'd him to the Flames, which he suffer'd in re­citing and begining the Psalms of Peni­tence. The best of his Works are, The Tri­umph of the Cross, and The Simplicity of a Christian Life.

Marcileo Ficino was such a little dapper Fellow, that he reach'd not to the Girdle of a Man of an ordinary Stature, but so well proportion'd, so neat, and of so gay an hu­mour, that none were ever weary of his Company. He was so possess'd with the care of his Health, that he often shifted his black Cap, nay, six or sev'n times in an hour. He had caus'd Cloaths and Coverlets to be made him for all the Winds that blow'd, and for all the irregularities of the Seasons. The House of Medici procur'd him a Prebendary, a House in the Town, and another in the Countrey, and gave him likewise a Pension, for Translating into Latin the Works of Plo­tinus, of Jamblicus, of Pselle, and of Cinesias. He wrote with all the easiness imaginable. Yet what he did was so finisht, that none durst venture to touch again and Polish it. He dy'd almost without pain at sev'nty years of Age, on the same Day that the Floren­tines, [Page 452]caus'd Paulo Vitelli, their General, to be Beheaded, lest he might take revenge for their having unjustly suspected him of Per­fidy.

Galeas Martius serv'd King Mathias of Hungary, at the same time, as Tutor for Sciences, Secretary for Dispatches, a Cap­tain in War, and Champion in Turnaments. He compos'd two Books, under a malign Constellation; the first, treating of Man, had the misfortune to be so roughly handl'd by Merula the Critick, that its Author, of his own proper Election, set about sup­pressing it; and the second, treating of the Virtue of the Pagans, made him incur the Persecution of the Religious, who caus'd him to be clapt up into Prison, whence he had been doom'd to the Flames, if Pope Sixtus the 4th, who had been his Pupil, had not interpos'd all his Authority, to retrieve him out of their Clutches, and after all, was he forc'd to undergo a publick Pennance. He liv'd near fourscore years, and became so big and bulky, that not a Horse was there could carry him. He dy'd of a Rupture.

Elisius Calentius was a Poet famous at the Court of Naples, receiving, from King Al­fonso, the same Pension that Pontan, Artili­us, Gravina, and Senesar, whose business was to judge of pieces presented to his Maje­sty, [Page 453]or in Verse or Prose. As he had set Ti­bullus for his Pattern, so was he of as amo­rous a Complexion as that Roman, and made Elegies infinitely passionate, tho' they were not all of equal force. He translated into Latin Verse, Homer's War of the Rats a­gainst the Frogs, and being become old, with a Charge of Children, he repented his ha­ving spared nothing, during his Youth, and testify'd it by this Epitaph.

Vanum post Cineres de me toto Orbe legatur,
Scripta quoe sint tumulo Carmina digna meo;
Ingenium natura dedit, fortuna Poetoe
Defuit, atque inopem vivere fecit amor.

Pandolfo Callenucio was a Lawyer by Pro­fession, but so inconstant in his Study, that hardly had he the first Elements of a Science, than that he fell to another. However, be­ing well made and Eloquent, and having besides the Qualities necessary for Negotia­tion, he was employ'd in several Embassies. He compos'd the Apology for Pliny's Natu­ral History; a Treatise of the Viper, and a Dialogue compleatly Boufon, Waggish, and Badeen, between the Head and the Cap; af­terwards he wrote the Lives of the Kings of Naples, in the Tuscan Tongue, upon the re­quest of Duke Hercules of Ferrara, who [Page 454]understood not Latin. He dy'd at Pesaro, where Giovanni Sforza had got him by Cun­ning, and caus'd him there to be strangl'd, in revenge, for having intercepted one of his Letters.

Jovianus Pontanus conceal'd under a stern and damping Mien, a Wit infinitely agreea­ble and nice. A Native was he of Carretto, in Ʋmbria, where his Family being destroy'd by Fire and Sword, he took refuge at Na­ples. Antonio da Palermo, Secreatary of State, found him in the Street, and in his Physiog­nomy observing I know not what extraor­dinary, took care of his Education. He instructed him so well, that he became the most Celebrated of the Poets, and Orators of his time. He wou'd needs also undertake to write History, but with so little success, that he accus'd himself, that all his endea­vours of that kind, had only discover'd his Weakness. He succeeded his Benefactor in his place. He marry'd a Wife, who brought him a vast Fortune, but, tow'rds the end of his Life, he decay'd in his Reputation, by means of his Panegyrick on Charles the 8th, and his Dialogue, Intitul'd Charon, the first of those two pieces being so stuff'd with flat­tery, and with Detraction the second. He dy'd when sev'nty sev'n years old, after having caus'd a magnificent Tomb to be [Page 455]Erected for his Bones; but forgot to put in­to his Will, which Epitaph he design'd to be thereon engrav'd, of the four he had Com­pos'd.

Marcus Antonius Coctius Sabellicus was the Son of a Black-Smith, and fell to keeping School at Tivoli, where he gain'd sufficient to live on at Rome, for several years toge­ther. Pomponius Latus introduc'd him into the Academy, which fil'd off his Rust, and made him capable of being call'd by the Se­nate of Venice, to write the History of the Republick, and to give Lessons to the young Gentlemen, for an allowance of three hundred Crowns. He acquitted himself bet­ter of the second of these Provinces, than of the first; for the flattery is so course and fulsome in his History, that it's perceiv'd by the least refin'd. But the most fantastick part in his Conduct was, that after having blunder'd in his particular History, he fan­cy'd he shou'd perform better in the Gene­ral. He began that of the World from Adam, and made those great Volumes of Enneades, which People are far from reading, when once they are inform'd, that the most curious Matters almost all are pass'd o're in silence, and the most common handl'd with a tire­some Accuracy. When sev'nty years old, he dy'd of a scandalous Disease, the secret [Page 456]of Curing which being not then known. He left but one Bastard, to whom he wou'd not commit the care of his Burial, he lov'd rather to contrive it himself, and writ this Epitaph, in which I shou'd find no Fault, had another made it.

Quem non res hominum, non omnis ceperat oetas
Scribentem capit haec Coction urna brevis.

Laurentianus, after having for a long while taught Philosophy and Physick at Pisa, and Florence, fell to Translating Hippocrates, be­cause Theodorus Gaza did not, to his seeming, express, with sufficient force, the Canonical stile of that Author; afterwards he was mind­ed to do the like with Gallen; and he wrote with so much assiduity, that it's believ'd he wou'd have finisht it, if he had not been whirl'd with a Crotchet to buy a House, tho' he had not the third of the Money, requi­site to pay the Purchase. The Man who sold it, caus'd to be inferted in the Contract, that in case Laurentianus did not furnish the whole Sum in six Months space, he might enter upon his House again, without being bound to repay what he had receiv'd, and Laurentianus consented thereto, as making account to have, by that time, wherewithall to clear the Bargain. But the measures sail'd [Page 457]him he had taken, and the term expir'd, without his being in a Condition to perform the Clause of the Contract; so that seeing the first Proprietor take Possession of the House again, he laid it so to Heart, that he tumbl'd himself head-long into the Well.

Antiochus Tibertus was brought from Ce­sene, the place of his Birth, into France, by a Souldier, that made him study at Paris. He follow'd his Genius, which inclin'd him to the study of Natural Magick tho' this Profes­sion was them so dangerous, that since two hundred years that Piero Daponno dy'd, no Man had dar'd to be tampering that way. He imagin'd that it had only been Contem­tible, by not having been hitherto plainly and ingenuously laid down and discover'd, but that it wou'd be infallibly Courted by all Mankind, when it shou'd be seen deckt with the Ornaments of other Sciences. Up­on this Principle, he became a shrewd and learned Professor in Polite Learning, in Na­tural Philosohy, Physick, and the Mathe­maticks, and returning into his own Coun­try, where there needed no more for his li­ving in security, than to seduce some petty Prince; this was the more easie for him to effect, since during his abode in France, he pass'd for a famous Wizzard among the A­strologers of that Kingdom. He gave a rea­son [Page 458]for most of his Predictions, which other Sooth-sayers, nor the very Oracles them­selves, had not yet bethought themselves of doing, and on this score was he consulted by Persons of all Qualities and Conditions, from the Prince to the Cobler; and at all times was there so great a Concourse of People at his Gate, that very often a body must have waited there several hours, to get to speak to him in one's turn. He wrote very Curi­ous Books of Chiromancy, or Palmistry, Phisiognomy, and Pyromancy; and viewing one day Guido de Bogni's Hand, surnamed Guerra, or War, on the account of his Valour, he assur'd him, that the best of his Friends wou'd cause him to be Assassinated, upon an ill grounded supposition, to which there was so much the less likelihood, that Bogni being the most determinate Souldier of his time, and Courting, hand over head, the most dangerous occasions, was, in all probability, like to perish fighting, one time or other. He likewise foretold, by the same way, Pan­dolfo Malatesta, Soveraign of Remini, the Richest Prince of Italy, in ready Cash, that he wou'd dye of Misery, in the Hospital of Bologna. In a word, the fancy took him to Calculate his own Nativity, and he found it his Fate to be Beheaded; and thus all came to pass. Malatesta was under a strict en­gagement [Page 459]with Bogni, and trusted him with the Command of his Troops. Bentivoglio, his Father-in Law, sent him word, that he had committed the Sheep to the keeping of the Wolf; and that Bogni had treated with the Pope, for the remitting Remini under the Obedience of the Holy See. There needed no more to dispose Malatesta to invite Bogni to a Feast, at which Tibertus had Or­ders to attend. Bogni was stabb'd, while at Dinner, and Tibertus popt into a Dungeon, in the Cittadel, his Hands garnish'd with I­ron Ruffs, and his Feet with Fetters, till such time as they shou'd put him upon the Rack, for the making him reveal the Accomplices of the pretended Conspiracy. In the mean while Bogni's Innocence came to light, and Bentivoglio, thinking him still alive, wrote to his Son in-Law, that he had giv'n him a false Intelligence. Malatesta repented his ha­ving been so hasty, and was going to Tiber­tus his Dungeon, to free him thence, when he met with an account, that this Wizzard had been caught making his escape. And in­deed Tibertus calling to mind his Horoscope, and not knowing his Case to be in good terms, he had so well cajol'd the Goaler's Daughter, that she had let him down with a Rope into the Ditch, where the jingling of his Fetters discover'd him to the Sentinel: [Page 460] Malatesta coming in just in that nick, fan­cy'd him to be Criminal, seeing he had that way attempted to get out of Prison; and without other form of Process, had him Beheaded. In a short time after, the Duke de Valentinois surpriz'd Rimini, and Mala­testa, by meer hazard, making his escape, wandred from Town to Town, till being for­saken by his own very Children, upon his having endeavour'd to set them at odds; He found no other retreat, than the Hospi­tal of Bologna, wherein he dy'd.

Filippo Beroalde acquir'd Fame by a whim­sical way; for whereas other Wits endea­vour'd to imitate the Writers of Augustus his Age; he imagin'd Quaint Latin to consist in obsolete Words, and set about bringing them again into vogue and usance. Having all good Books, and his Memory being prodi­gious, he enterpreted them to admiration, and there being not a person breathing, that made the like, in any wise comparable, Les­sons; he had his Auditory, at Bologna, so throng'd with all sorts of People, principal­ly Strangers, as barr'd all access to it. He has left, in this stile, a Commentary upon A­puleius his Golden Ass, containing so much Learning, that it wou'd be the best of all the works of that Nature, without its Author's [...]range Prepossession for some ridiculous O­pinion. [Page 461]He dy'd at fifty years old, and re­pented of his Barbarism, ev'n at the very moment of his Death.

Filippo Beroalde neither follow'd the steps nor the Genius of his Uncle before menti­on'd. He had a nice taste for Quaint Latin, and set his Mind to Poetry. His Odes are so pure and so well wrought, that the Aca­demy of Rome judg'd, that no Man, for this thousand years, has come so near Horace, and it was in virtue of this Testimony, which it gave to Beroalde's Merit, that Leo the 10th. for the attracting him to Rome, made him Keeper of the Vatican Library, but he dy'd at twenty eight years old, when on his Jour­ney to take possession of his new Dignity.

Titus Sforza was a famous Latin Poet of Ferrara; he Compos'd several Eclogues, and put into Verse the History of the House of Esté. None wou'd have disputed with him, the Crown of Lawrel he laid claim to, after Petrarch's Example, if he had not got a Son, that prov'd a better Poet than him­self.

Hercules Sforza made such fine Verses at sev'nteen years old, as created a Jealousie in his very Father; and as he had no less Qualities for the Court, than for Parnassus, he became the Duke his Master's Favourite, and made Love to that Prince's Sister, while [Page 462]he wrote Verses, worthy of Antiquity, for the Dutchess Lacretia Borgia. He was Gallant, and very Ingenuous in Repartees; as he made a Lady sensible, upon her twit­ting him with his being Lame; for he ex­temporaneously reply'd, that Venus, who un­derstood her self as well as she, at least in Love, had nevertheless preferr'd Vulcan be­fore others. But to his bane, the Beauteous Toreti, the Duke's Mistress, inspir'd him with Love. They agreed to steal a little Matri­mony Clandestinely, for fear their Nuptials might be cross'd; and afterwards to proclaim their Marriage, as soon as it shou'd be a time fitting, they supposing the Duke wou'd leave off loving Toreti, when he came to know she had thrown her self into the Arms of another. But they were mistaken, for hardly was the business known, but that Sforza coming to sup at the Palace, was kill'd without any inquest being since made into th' Assassination.

Barthelemi Cocles study'd only Chiroman­cy and Metoposcopy, but he became so knowing that no body ever made so many true Predictions. He was more hardy than other Wizzards; for he caus'd a Book to be Printed, enrich'd with Figures, wherein he reveal'd all the secret of his Art, explain'd all the Lines of the Hand, all the different [Page 463]Features of the Face, and laid open the sig­nification of each thing in particular. The Learned Achillini made a Preface to it, e­qually admir'd by the Friends and Enemies of the Art of Fortune-telling, and Cocles con­firm'd his Positions, by an Experience, which brought him into a general Vogue. Luca Gau­rie, so famous in Judicial Astrology, cou'd not make his own Horoscope, for want of knowing the day, and hour, and place of his Birth. He had recourse to Cocles, who, view­ing his Hand, foretold him, that he wou'd suddenly undergo a Punishment, without having deserv'd it, but yet dye of it he wou'd not. And indeed Bentivoglio, Lord of Bologna, being inform'd that Gaurie had fore­told that he shou'd be driven out of his Ter­ritory, before the years end, caus'd him to be Kidnapt, and commanded he shou'd have the Strapado giv'n him five times together, which was accordingly executed; but also was he divested, in the time that Gaurie had noted. As to Cocles, he had no less fore­seen the day and hour of his own Death. He knew it his Fate to be kill'd by a blow on his Head, and had Arm'd himself with an I­ron Coif, under his Hat, and with a two-handed Sword, with which he Fenced Com­petently well. Yet Hermes Bentivoglio, the Great Lord of Bologna's Son, had desir'd him [Page 464]so earnestly to tell him his Fortune, that he had declar'd to him he shou'd be banish'd, and kill'd in a Battel, which happen'd afterwards. But then Hermes, the most Brutal Man of his time, wou'd needs be reveng'd on Cocles, in causing him to be assassinated by Caponi, the most resolute of his Father's Guards. Ca­pani excus'd doing it a long while, and wou'd never have resolv'd upon it, had not the Fan­cy took him one day to consult Cocles, who, not knowing him, told him; Alas my Friend, you'l commit a detestable Murther before it's yet night. Caponi being surpriz [...]d at so un­expected a Prediction, imagin'd Cocles im­pos'd on his Credulity, as he had done on that of Hermes, and thereupon took his measures to kill him. He went and dis­guis'd himself in the accoutrements of a Por­ter, for the better performing his Design, and return'd in the moment that Cocles, who had been constrain'd for an indispensable Affair to go abroad, came back, and was just putting the Key into the Lock of his Door, he gave him so great a blow, with an Ax, that the Iron Coif cou'd not hinder Cocles head from being cloven. In his Clo­set a Book was found, written with his own hand, containing Predictions for those of his Acquaintance, whose Hands and Counte­nance [Page 465]he had observ'd, and the Event justi­fy'd 'em to be all infallible, there not being a Person of that number, but dy'd after him of the Death he had noted.

Johannes Cotta was Catullus his Country­man, and had almost the same Genius. He gave himself to Barthelemi de Lalviano, and offer'd to keep him Company, when the French had taken him at the Battel of Laghi­ara Dadda, and this Office being declin'd, he went to Rome to hasten his Benefactor's Ransome, and dy'd there of the Plague, at eight and twenty years old. His Epigrams have the turn of those of Martial, and his Orations shew he had already read good Books. He had likewise Compos'd a Choro­graphy in Verse, and Observations upon Pli­ny, but it's not known what are become of those two Works.

Peter Crinitus was Politianus his ablest Scholar, and succeeded him in the Chair, and Education of the Youth of Florence.

THE END.

The Printed Authors and Manuscripts whence the First Book is taken.

THE Acts of the Foundation of San Lo­renzo's Church at Florence. The Pain­tings of the Old Palace de Medici. The Se­cond Tome of Giorgio Vasavii. The Eulogy of Cosmo the Old, among the little Eulogies of Paulus Jovius. The Rights of the House of Savoy, to the Kingdom of Cyprus. The Fifth Part of Pogiodes Works. The First E­dition of Coleon's Life. Antonius Campa­nus, in the Life of Braccio. Filippo Strozzi and his Childrens Manifest against Cosimo de Medici.

The Printed Authors and Manuscripts whence the Second Book is taken.

SImoneta's Manuscript, in the French King's Library. Senator Moccenigo's History of Venice. The Memorial of the Se­ditions that happen'd at Florence, under the Government of the Republick. The Topogra­phick History of Volterra. Onuphrius, in the Life of Sixtus the 4th. Politianus his Paz­zi's [Page 467]Conspiracy, of old Aldus Menuceus his first Edition.

The Printed Authors and Manuscripts whence the Third Book is taken.

CArdinal Nardi's Negotiations with Fer­rand of Naples, and the Duke of Cala­labria his Son. Two Italian Letters of Loren­zo de Medici, one to justifie his Voyage to Naples, address'd to the Council of Eight at Florence, and the other written to all the Ma­gistrates of the Republick, to give them an Account of the Treaty he had there concluded. the Neapolitan King's War against the Ba­rons, by an unknown Author in the French King's sixth Library. The History of Venice, by Sabellieus. Platina's Continuator in the Life of Sixtus the 4th. Andréa Doria's Life, by Carolus Sigonius.

The Printed Authors and Manuscripts whence the Fourth Book is taken.

THE Tuscan Relation of Aetius Sincerus d'Anazar. The Index of Leonard Aretin's Works, by Mr. de la Marc. The Saint Denis, and the Diogenes Laertius of Am­boise de Camaldoli. The Fourth Tome of Pontanus his Works, by Aldus Manuceus. [Page 468]The Decades of Blondus. The History of Fi­lippo Visconti. The Life of Charlemain, by Achaiolis. The Combat of Philadeste and Ti­motée in Mirtavis. The Conclave of Sixtus the 4th. The Greek Poems of Lascaris, and the Latin of Majoranus. The Epigrams of Maru­lus. The Preface to Plato's Works. The Eulo­gies of Politian. The Corrections and the Hi­story of the Visconti's, by Merula. Politian's Epitaph, by Cardinal Bombe. The Life of Savonarola the Jacobin.

The Printed Authors and Manuscripts whence the Fifth Book is taken.

THE Discourse of the Medici's Exile, by Cardinal Bibiana. The Conclave of Julius the 2d. The Manifest of Lewis the 12th. against the same Pope. The Acts of the Coun­cil held at Pisa, during the Dissentions of Lewis the 12th. and Julius the 2d. Pompeo Colon­na's Harangue to the Romans, to persuade them to recover their Liberty, while the Pope was sick. The Relation of the Cardinal Legat's flight, after the Battel of Ravenna, by Barna­bé de Malespina. Machiavel's Life. Mario Musuoi's Observations upon that of Castruccio.

The Printed Authors and Manuscripts whence the Sixth Book is taken.

LEO the 10th's Conclave. His entry into Florence, by Francisco de Sangallo. A Memorial of the Offices the Republick of Ge­noua has render'd, at sundry times, to France. Géne [...]rard's, and Mr. du Puit's Observations upon the Concordate. A Collation of Guichi­ardini's Errors, by Giovanni Battista Leoni. Lorenzo de Medici's Negotiation with the Heiress of Bologna, between the Duke d'Al­bania, and Cardinal Bibiana. That of the E­lection of Charles the Fifth, by Adolphus Vander Marck, Bishop of Liergi. Leo the 10th's Instruction to Roberto Ursini upon the same subject. The Life of the first Duke of Urbin, of the House della Rovere. A Journal contain­ing the Secret and Circumstances of Cardinal Petrucci's Conspiracy. The ten Books of Pope Leo's Epistles.

The Printed Authors and Manuscripts whence the Sev'nth Book is taken.

THE Eulogies of Pontanus and of Domi­tius. The Collection of Anonymous Authors. The Life of Duke Valentinois. Pe­saro's Topographick History. Guichiardini's [Page 470]first Book. A Dissertation, by an unknown Hand, upon the Infelicity of Men of Literature. Floridus Sabinus in his Eulogies. The History of Remini. Beroalde Senior's Commentary up­on Apuleius his Golden Ass. The Eulogies of the Vatican Library Keepers. Julius the 2d's Manifest against Giovanni Bentivoglio. Cot­ta's Eulogy, in Julius Caesar Scaliger. Justi­nian's History of Venice. Mascardi in the Art of History. Antonio Possevino, in the Hi­story of the Gonzaga's. Longeuil's Judgment upon Erasmus and Budeus. Paulus Jovius his Dialogue with the Marquis du Guast. The Nea­politan Families d'Ammirato. The Post­scripts of Budeus, to divers Manuscripts in the French King's Library.

FINIS.

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