In the vast congregation everybody of importance in Florence was assembled, with two notable exceptions—the mother and the only brother of Lorenzo il Magnifico. The Domina Lucrezia, who had suddenly retired from the prominent position she held at the Court of her son, remained at Careggi with the venerable Madonna Contessina, Cosimo’s widow, upon whom she waited with the utmost devotion.
The other absentee was, once more, Giuliano! Consternation seized upon the conspirators, for the slaughter would not be complete without the shedding of his blood.
The preliminary anthems were being sung as the procession of the celebrant of the Mass, with his sacred ministers moved from the New Sacristy, and every head was bowed before the symbol of the cross. Hesitation on the part of the confederates meant ruin, and, perhaps, death: this no one knew better than Francesco de’ Pazzi. Beckoning to Bernardo Bandino, he led the way to the north door of the Cathedral, and hurried off with him to the Medici Palace, not many yards away.
Asking to see the Lord Giuliano, the porter led them into the courtyard, and presently the groom of the chamber conducted them into the young prince’s apartment. Giuliano was nearly dressed, and his valet was giving some final touches to his abundant brown hair and to his robes.
“Hasten, my lord, the Mass is in saying, or you will be too late,” exclaimed Francesco, “we have come to conduct you to the Duomo.” Giuliano was in a gleeful mood, and joked his visitors upon their unexpected attentions. At length he cried out: “Lead on, Pazzo—Medico will follow!”
Taking him in his humour, Francesco slipped his arm round Giuliano’s waist—apparently as a mark of good-fellowship, but really for the purpose of feeling whether he was wearing armour under his blue velvet tunic. With Bandino on the other side, the three made the rest of their way through the dense crowd in the Via Larga, being greeted respectfully by old and young, though many wondered at “Il bel Giulio’s” unwonted companions.
Entering the Duomo, the three stood a moment whilst a clear course was made for Giuliano to the centre of the congregation. Lorenzo and the clergy and dignitaries within the choir were already upon their knees, ready to prostrate themselves as the celebrant held aloft the Sacred Host. Near Lorenzo were Giovanni de’ Tornabuoni, his uncle,—famous for his wealth, influence at Rome, and his probity,—Antonio and Lorenzo de’ Cavalcanti, Lorenzo de’ Tornabuoni, Marco de’ Vespucci, and Filippo degli Strozzi, Chamberlains of Honour, and other distinguished Florentines and the foreign ambassadors.
No sooner had Giuliano reached the entrance to the choir and was about to genuflect, than Francesco de’ Pazzi, who had followed him closely, whipped out his sword, at the very moment of the Elevation, and ran the devout prince, through the back! At the same time Bandino leaped upon him and stabbed him repeatedly in the breast!
It was all the work of an instant, and Giuliano fell over upon his side, his crimson life’s blood ebbing swiftly out of nineteen gaping wounds and dyeing his scarlet robe deep purple. Francesco’s frenzy was diabolical, for he leaped upon the still quivering body of his victim, and stabbed him again and again—wounding his own thigh in his fury!
Bandino next attacked Francesco Nori, a chief agent or manager of the Medici bank, a man of renown and honour, who vainly threw himself forward to shield his unhappy young patron, and he cut him down to the ground. With a filthy execration, he raised the dripping weapon in the air, prepared for yet another victim.