Having removed his cousin and rival from the scene, Alessandro de'
Medici plunged with even greater effrontery into the cruelties and
debaucheries which made him odious in Florence. It seemed as though
fortune meant to smile on him; for in this same year (1535) Charles
V. decided at Naples in his favour against the Florentine exiles,
who were pleading their own cause and that of the city injured by his
tyrannies; and in February of the following year he married Margaret
of Austria, the Emperor's natural daughter. Francesco Guicciardini,
the first statesman and historian of his age, had undertaken his
defence, and was ready to support him by advice and countenance in
the conduct of his government. Within the lute of this prosperity,
however, there was one little rift. For some months past he had
closely attached to his person a certain kinsman, Lorenzo de' Medici,
who was descended in the fourth generation from Lorenzo, the brother
of Cosimo Pater Patriæ. This Lorenzo, or Lorenzino, or Lorenzaccio,
as his most intimate acquaintances called him, was destined to murder
Alessandro; and it is worthy of notice that the Duke had received
frequent warnings of his fate. A Perugian page, for instance, who
suffered from some infirmity, saw in a dream that Lorenzino would kill
his master. Astrologers predicted that the Duke must die by having his
throat cut. One of them is said to have named Lorenzo de' Medici as
the assassin; and another described him so accurately that there was
no mistaking the man. Moreover, Madonna Lucrezia Salviati wrote to the
Duke from Rome that he should beware of a certain person, indicating
Lorenzino; and her daughter, Madonna Maria, told him to his face
she hated the young man, 'because I know he means to murder you,
and murder you he will.' Nor was this all. The Duke's favourite
body-servants mistrusted Lorenzino. On one occasion, when Alessandro
and Lorenzino, attended by a certain Giomo, were escalading a wall at
night, as was their wont upon illicit love-adventures, Giomo whispered
to his master: 'Ah, my lord, do let me cut the rope, and rid ourselves
of him!' To which the Duke replied: 'No, I do not want this; but if he
could, I know he'd twist it round my neck.'
In spite, then, of these warnings and the want of confidence he felt,
the Duke continually lived with Lorenzino, employing him as pander in
his intrigues, and preferring his society to that of simpler men. When
he rode abroad, he took this evil friend upon his crupper; although
he knew for certain that Lorenzino had stolen a tight-fitting vest of
mail he used to wear, and, while his arms were round his waist, was
always meditating how to stick a poignard in his body. He trusted,
so it seems, to his own great strength and to the other's physical
weakness.
At this point, since Lorenzino is the principal actor in the two-act
drama which follows, it will be well to introduce him to the reader in
the words of Varchi, who was personally acquainted with him. Born at
Florence in 1514, he was left early by his father's death to the
sole care of his mother, Maria Soderini, 'a lady of rare prudence
and goodness, who attended with the utmost pains and diligence to his
education. No sooner, however, had he acquired the rudiments of humane
learning, which, being of very quick parts, he imbibed with incredible
facility, than he began to display a restless mind, insatiable and
appetitive of vice. Soon afterwards, under the rule and discipline of
Filippo Strozzi, he made open sport of all things human and divine;
and preferring the society of low persons, who not only flattered him
but were congenial to his tastes, he gave free rein to his desires,
especially in affairs of love, without regard for sex or age or
quality, and in his secret soul, while he lavished feigned caresses
upon every one he saw, felt no esteem for any living being. He
thirsted strangely for glory, and omitted no point of deed or word
that might, he thought, procure him the reputation of a man of spirit
or of wit. He was lean of person, somewhat slightly built, and on
this account people called him Lorenzino. He never laughed, but had a
sneering smile; and although he was rather distinguished by grace than
beauty, his countenance being dark and melancholy, still in the flower
of his age he was beloved beyond all measure by Pope Clement; in spite
of which he had it in his mind (according to what he said himself
after killing the Duke Alessandro) to have murdered him. He brought
Francesco di Raffaello de' Medici, the Pope's rival, who was a young
man of excellent attainments and the highest hope, to such extremity
that he lost his wits, and became the sport of the whole court at
Rome, and was sent back, as a lesser evil, as a confirmed madman to
Florence.' Varchi proceeds to relate how Lorenzino fell
into disfavour with the Pope and the Romans by chopping the heads off
statues from the arch of Constantine and other monuments; for which
act of vandalism Molsa impeached him in the Roman Academy, and a price
was set upon his head. Having returned to Florence, he proceeded
to court Duke Alessandro, into whose confidence he wormed himself,
pretending to play the spy upon the exiles, and affecting a personal
timidity which put the Prince off his guard. Alessandro called him
'the philosopher,' because he conversed in solitude with his own
thoughts and seemed indifferent to wealth and office. But all this
while Lorenzino was plotting how to murder him.
Giovio's account of this strange intimacy may be added, since it
completes the picture I have drawn from Varchi:--'Lorenzo made himself
the accomplice and instrument of those amorous amusements for which
the Duke had an insatiable appetite, with the object of deceiving him.
He was singularly well furnished with all the scoundrelly arts and
trained devices of the pander's trade; composed fine verses to incite
to lust; wrote and represented comedies in Italian; and pretended
to take pleasure only in such tricks and studies. Therefore he never
carried arms like other courtiers, and feigned to be afraid of blood,
a man who sought tranquillity at any price. Besides, he bore a pallid
countenance and melancholy brow, walking alone, talking very little
and with few persons. He haunted solitary places apart from the city,
and showed such plain signs of hypochondria that some began covertly
to pass jokes on him. Certain others, who were more acute, suspected
that he was harbouring and devising in his mind some terrible
enterprise.' The Prologue to Lorenzino's own comedy of 'Aridosiso'
brings the sardonic, sneering, ironical man vividly before us.
He calls himself 'un certo omiciatto, che non è nessun di voi che
veggendolo non l'avesse a noia, pensando che egli abbia fatto una
commedia;' and begs the audience to damn his play to save him the
tedium of writing another. Criticised by the light of his subsequent
actions, this prologue may even be understood to contain a covert
promise of the murder he was meditating.
'In this way,' writes Varchi, 'the Duke had taken such familiarity
with Lorenzo, that, not content with making use of him as a ruffian
in his dealings with women, whether religious or secular, maidens
or wives or widows, noble or plebeian, young or elderly, as it might
happen, he applied to him to procure for his pleasure a half-sister of
Lorenzo's own mother, a young lady of marvellous beauty, but not less
chaste than beautiful, who was the wife of Lionardo Ginori, and lived
not far from the back entrance to the palace of the Medici.' Lorenzino
undertook this odious commission, seeing an opportunity to work his
designs against the Duke. But first he had to form an accomplice,
since he could not hope to carry out the murder without help. A bravo,
called Michele del Tavolaccino, but better known by the nickname of
Scoronconcolo, struck him as a fitting instrument. He had procured
this man's pardon for a homicide, and it appears that the fellow
retained a certain sense of gratitude. Lorenzino began by telling the
man there was a courtier who put insults upon him, and Scoronconcolo
professed his readiness to kill the knave. 'Sia chi si voglia; io
l'ammazzerò, se fosse Cristo.' Up to the last minute the name of
Alessandro was not mentioned. Having thus secured his assistant,
Lorenzino chose a night when he knew that Alessandro Vitelli, captain
of the Duke's guard, would be from home. Then, after supper, he
whispered in Alessandro's ear that at last he had seduced his aunt
with an offer of money, and that she would come to his, Lorenzo's
chamber at the service of the Duke that night. Only the Duke must
appear at the rendezvous alone, and when he had arrived, the lady
should be fetched. 'Certain it is,' says Varchi, 'that the Duke,
having donned a cloak of satin in the Neapolitan style, lined with
sable, when he went to take his gloves, and there were some of mail
and some of perfumed leather, hesitated awhile and said: "Which shall
I choose, those of war, or those of love-making?"' He took the latter
and went out with only four attendants, three of whom he dismissed
upon the Piazza di San Marco, while one was stationed just opposite
Lorenzo's house, with strict orders not to stir if he should see folk
enter or issue thence. But this fellow, called the Hungarian, after
waiting a great while, returned to the Duke's chamber, and there went
to sleep.
Meanwhile Lorenzino received Alessandro in his bedroom, where there
was a good fire. The Duke unbuckled his sword, which Lorenzino took,
and having entangled the belt with the hilt, so that it should not
readily be drawn, laid it on the pillow. The Duke had flung himself
already on the bed, and hid himself among the curtains--doing this, it
is supposed, to save himself from the trouble of paying compliments to
the lady when she should arrive. For Caterina Ginori had the fame of
a fair speaker, and Alessandro was aware of his own incapacity to play
the part of a respectful lover. Nothing could more strongly point the
man's brutality than this act, which contributed in no small measure
to his ruin.
Lorenzino left the Duke upon the bed, and went at once for
Scoronconcolo. He told him that the enemy was caught, and bade him
only mind the work he had to do. 'That will I do,' the bravo answered,
'even though it were the Duke himself.' 'You've hit the mark,' said
Lorenzino with a face of joy; 'he cannot slip through our fingers.
Come!' So they mounted to the bedroom, and Lorenzino, knowing where
the Duke was laid, cried: 'Sir, are you asleep?' and therewith ran
him through the back. Alessandro was sleeping, or pretending to
sleep, face downwards, and the sword passed through his kidneys and
diaphragm. But it did not kill him. He slipped from the bed, and
seized a stool to parry the next blow. Scoronconcolo now stabbed him
in the face, while Lorenzino forced him back upon the bed; and then
began a hideous struggle. In order to prevent his cries, Lorenzino
doubled his fist into the Duke's mouth. Alessandro seized the thumb
between his teeth, and held it in a vice until he died. This disabled
Lorenzino, who still lay upon his victim's body, and Scoronconcolo
could not strike for fear of wounding his master. Between the writhing
couple he made, however, several passes with his sword, which only
pierced the mattress. Then he drew a knife and drove it into the
Duke's throat, and bored about till he had severed veins and windpipe.