Meanwhile the two perjured priests, who, by the mock grace of their Order were placed within the choir, had taken up positions immediately behind Lorenzo, as though to render him assistance in the divine service, suddenly attacked him with daggers, but unskilfully. Lorenzo scrambled to his feet, and, casting his heavy mantle of State over his shoulders, drew his sword in self-defence. Turning to see who his opponents were, he received a scratch in the neck from Stefano’s steel. Then, from the raised dais, he descried the tumult at the choir gates, whilst cries of “Il Giuliano e morto” reached his ears!
Desperadoes were struggling with the clergy and the acolytes by the great lectern, and calling out his name for vengeance. One, more murderous than the rest, was scaling the low sanctuary wall, holding his gory dagger in the air, and making for the chairs of estate—it was Bernardo Bandino. Commending the Domina Clarice to the care of his uncle, Lorenzo passed hurriedly up the steps of the altar and gained the New Sacristy, followed closely by the two Cavalcanti, who were battling with the infuriated Bandino and his confederates—“Abbasso il Lorenzo,” they yelled.
Escaping through the doorway, Luca della Robbia’s great bronze gates were slammed to, by Angelo Poliziano, almost crushing Antonio Cavalcanti, who fell with a deep wound in his shoulder, and actually flinging to the ground, outside in the aisle, the raging, baffled Bandino. “Then arose,” wrote Filippo Strozzi, in his family Ricordi—he was an eye-witness of the tragedy—“a great tumult in the church. Messer Bongiano and other knights, with whom I was conversing, were stupefied, one fled hither and another thither, loud shouts filled the building, and the hands of friends of the Pazzi and Salviati all held gleaming weapons.... The young Cardinal remained alone, crouching by the high altar, until he was led away by some priests into the Old Sacristy, whence he was escorted by two of the ‘Eight,’ with a strong bodyguard, to the Palazzo del Podesta.”
Inside the New Sacristy it was discovered that Lorenzo’s wound was serious enough to call for immediate treatment, and one of his devoted pages, young Antonio de’ Ridolfi, sucked it for fear of poison. The great heavy metal doors were incessantly battered from without, but no one dared to open them, and Lorenzo remained where he was until the hubbub in the Duomo appeared to be abating. Then another page, Sismondo della Stufa, climbed up into the organ gallery, whence he could look into the church, and reported that none but friends of the Medici remained, and they were crying out for Lorenzo to accept their escort to the palace. So the Magnifico departed.
All the while the great bell of the Palazzo Vecchio was booming out its dread summons for the city trained bands and the armed members of the Guilds to assemble for the defence of the city and the maintenance of their liberties. Loud cries of “Liberta!” “Liberta!” rolled up the street, drowned by a great chorus of “Evviva le Palle!” “Abasso i Traditori!” The whole city was in an uproar and blood was being spilt on every side.
What had happened was tragically this. Whilst one half of the conspirators was told off to strike the fatal blow, the other half was directed to rally round Archbishop Salviati, who, by the way, made some excuse for not assisting ministerially at the Mass, but took up his station close to the north door of the Duomo. Directly they saw Giuliano struck to the ground, they made all haste to the Palazzo Vecchio, and demanded an interview with Messer Cesare de’ Petrucci, the Gonfaloniere di Giustizia, who had been detained by urgent matters in the Courts.
When Messer Petruccio enquired the nature of their business, the Archbishop replied: “We are come, all the family of Salviati, to pay our respects to the Gonfaloniere, as in duty bound.” Messer Cesare was at lunch, but, rising from table, he welcomed the Archbishop, who entered the apartment alone. He asked him to be speedy, as he had to join the banquet to the Cardinal di San Giorgio almost immediately.
Salviati said he was the bearer of his family’s greetings to the Gonfaloniere, and also of a private Brief to him from the Pope. His manner seemed so strange, and his errand so irregular, that Petruccio’s suspicions were aroused, and raising the arras, he saw the passage was filled with armed men. At once he called the palace guard to arrest the intruders, and caused every door of exit to be locked.
The object, of course, of the Archbishop and those with him was to seize the person of the Gonfaloniere and possess themselves of the Banner of Justice—that they might rouse the citizens to fight in its defence.
On the contrary, the people were for the Medici, and “Palle!” “Palle!” prevailed. Noting that the Salviati did not leave the palace, and that the guards had been withdrawn from the gate and every door was bolted, the populace broke into the building, rescued the Gonfaloniere, and the Signori with him, and seized the persons of the intruders.