I have nought to report to Your Excellency save that yesterday the Most Rev. Cardinal de’ Medici [Giovanni, Lorenzo’s second son] left for Rome. Last Saturday he received the hat in a certain abbey, called the Abbey of Fiesole, and then in his Cardinal’s robes, accompanied by us ambassadors, many bishops, and a large number of citizens, made a triumphal entry into the city. Dismounting at the palace of the Signoria he paid them a visit. He mounted again and we accompanied him to his father’s house. Next day, with the same following he went to S. Liberata [the cathedral] to hear mass, which was celebrated by eight bishops with great solemnity, and at which the Illustrious Signoria assisted. At the close the Cardinal took leave of the Signoria in the church and accompanied by us went to his father’s house where a magnificent banquet was prepared, at which we ambassadors assisted (having been previously invited) and sixty of the principal citizens of this State. The house was most richly adorned. Before we rose from table a great number of chiselled silver vases were presented to the Cardinal on behalf of the Signoria. A stupendous sight, for the vases were large and well ornamented. They were valued at 10,000 ducats or more, which may well be, as they weighed more than 1000 pounds. We ambassadors then went with His Illustrious Reverence to his room and rich and handsome silver vases were brought by the various Communes, and the Jews of the city, but His Lordship would not accept them and gave them back to the donors with fair words of thanks. Likewise he accepted nothing from any citizen save from his relations, who gave him splendid gifts. The Magnificent Lorenzo, though in pain, came into the hall where we were dining to see the Cardinal and us ambassadors, and has begun to ride again, although often seized with pain....—Florence, March 13, 1492.[399]
Lorenzo de’ Medici to his son, Cardinal Giovanni, at Rome, in March 1492
Messer Giovanni,—You are much beholden to our Lord God, as we all are for your sake, as besides many benefits and honours our house has received from Him it has pleased Him to bestow on you the highest dignity our family has yet enjoyed. Great as this is it is much enhanced by circumstances, particularly your youth and our condition. Therefore my first recommendation is that you endeavour to be grateful to our Lord God, remembering every hour that it is not by your own merits or solicitude that you have attained the Cardinalate, but by the grace of God. Show your gratitude to Him by leading a saintly, exemplary, and honest life. You are the more bound to do this because during your youth you have shown a disposition which gives hope of good fruit. It would be indeed most shameful, contrary to your duty, and to my expectations if at a time when others generally acquire more reason and a better understanding of life, you should forget the good precepts learned as a boy. It is incumbent on you to try and lighten the burden of the dignity you have attained by leading a pure life and persevering in the studies suitable to your profession. I was greatly pleased last year to learn that without being reminded by any one you had been several times to confession and to communion, for I conceive there is no better way of obtaining the grace of God than by habituating oneself to persevere in these duties. This seems to me the best advice I can begin with. I know, as you are now going to Rome, that sink of all iniquities, that you will find some difficulty in following it, as bad examples are always catching, and inciters to vice will not be wanting. Your promotion to the Cardinalate, as you may imagine, at your age and for the other reasons already mentioned, will be viewed with great envy, and those who were not able to prevent your attaining this dignity will endeavour, little by little, to diminish it by lowering you in public estimation and causing you to slide into the same ditch into which they have themselves fallen, counting on success because of your youth. You must be all the firmer in your stand against these difficulties, as at present one sees such a lack of virtue in the College. I recollect however to have known a good many learned and good men in the College, leading exemplary lives. It will be well that you should follow their example, for by so doing you will be the more known and esteemed as being different from the others. It is imperative above all things that you should avoid as you would Scylla and Charybdis the reputation of being a hypocrite and of evil fame. Be not ostentatious, and have a care to avoid anything offensive in conduct and in conversation, without affecting austerity or severity. These are things you will in time understand and practise better, I conceive, than I can write them. You know how important is the position and the example of a Cardinal, and that the world would be far better if the Cardinals were what they ought to be, for then there would always be a good Pope, from whom emanates, one may say, peace for all Christians. Make every effort therefore to be this, if others had done so we might hope for universal good. Nothing is more difficult than to hold converse with men of various characters, and in this I can ill advise you; only recollect when with the Cardinals and other men of rank to try and be charitable and respectful in your conversation, weighing your reasons well without being influenced by the passions of others; for many desiring what they cannot attain turn reason into abuse. Satisfy your conscience therefore by taking care that your conversation with every man should be devoid of offence. This seems to me a general rule most applicable in your case, for should passion by chance make an enemy, as his enmity would have no reasonable cause he may sometimes return with more ease to the old friendship. It will be better I think on this, your first visit to Rome, to use your ears more than your tongue. To-day I have given you entirely to our Lord God and to Holy Church; it is therefore essential that you become a good ecclesiastic, cherishing the honour and the State of Holy Church and of the Apostolic See above aught else in this world, and devoting yourself entirely to their interests. While doing this it will not be difficult for you to aid the city and our house, for the city being united to the Church you will represent the solid chain, and our house is part of the city. Although it is impossible to foresee what may happen I think it is likely that a way will be found to save, as the proverb says, the goat and the cabbages, always keeping steadfastly to your above-mentioned duty of setting the interests of the Church above all else. You are the youngest Cardinal, not only of the College, but the youngest that has hitherto been made, it is therefore most necessary that where you have to compete with the others you should be the most eager and the humblest, and avoid making others wait for you in Chapel, in Consistory, or in Deputation. You will soon learn who has a good or an evil reputation. With the latter avoid any great intimacy, not only on your own account, but for the sake of public opinion; converse in a general way with all. I advise you on feast-days to be rather below than above moderation, and would rather see a well-appointed stable and a well-ordered and cleanly household than magnificence and pomp. Let your life be regular and reduce your expenses gradually in the future, for the retinue and the master being both new at first it will be difficult. Jewels and silken stuffs must be used sparingly by one in your position. Rather have a few good antiques and fine books, and well-bred and learned attendants, than many of them. Ask people to your own house oftener than you accept invitations to theirs, but do both sparingly. Eat plain food and take much exercise, for those who wear your habit, if not careful, easily contract maladies. The rank of Cardinal is as secure as it is great, men therefore often become negligent; they conceive they have done enough and that without exertion they can preserve their position. This is often prejudicial to character and to life, and a thing against which you must guard; rather trust too little than too much in others. One rule I recommend to you above all others, and that is to get up betimes; besides being good for health one can meditate over and arrange all the business of the following day, and in your position, having to say the office, to study, to give audiences &c. you will find it most useful. Another thing absolutely necessary to one in your station is to reflect, particularly at this, the commencement of your career, in the evening on all you have to do next day, so that an unforeseen event may not come upon you unawares. As to speaking in the Consistory, I think it would be more seemly and becoming if you refer all that comes before you to His Holiness, alleging that as you are young and inexperienced you consider it your duty to submit everything to the most learned judgment of His Holiness. You will probably be asked to intercede in various matters with our Holy Father. Be cautious however at the beginning to ask as few favours as possible and not to bother him; the disposition of the Pope is to be grateful to those who do not break his ears. Bear this in mind in order not to annoy him. When you see him, talk about amusing things, and if you have to beg, do it with all humility and modesty. This will please him and be in accordance with his nature. Keep well.—Florence.[400]
Cardinal Giovanni de’ Medici to his father Lorenzo Magnifico Viro Laurentio de Medici Pater optimo
Salvus sis,—In case ...[401] (I) did not tell you of some things. On Friday morning I was given a public reception and went accompanied by all the Cardinals, nearly the whole court, and very heavy rain, from S.M. del Popolo to the palace and from the palace to Campo di Fiore. Our Holy Father received me most graciously: I hardly spoke to him. The following day the ambassadors waited on our Holy Father; their audience was most satisfactory. The Pope desired to hear me the day after, which is to-day. I have been, and His Holiness spoke as lovingly as was possible to me, and reminded me, and advised me, to do something when I visited these Cardinals, and I have begun to do so with those to whom as yet I have paid visits. Another time I will tell you who they are. All professed the greatest goodwill towards you. Of former things I know that you have been told. Of myself I have nought to say save that I will try hard to do you honour. De me proloqui ulterius, nefas. The news that you are so much better has been a great joy to me and I have no other wish than to hear this often. For this I send thanks to Ser Piero [Leoni, the doctor]. I commend myself to you. No more at present.—Rome, March 25, 1492.
Jo. Filius.[402]
In a letter to Jacopo Antiquario, Poliziano describes the malady from which Lorenzo had been suffering and then continues:
... The day before his death, being at his villa of Careggi, he grew so weak that all hope of his recovery vanished. Perceiving this, like a wise man he called for the confessor to purge himself of past sins. This same confessor told me afterwards that he marvelled to see with what courage and constancy Lorenzo prepared himself for death; how well he ordered all things pertaining thereunto, and with what faith and religious feeling he reflected on the world to come. Towards midnight while he was quietly meditating he was informed that the priest bearing the Holy Sacrament had arrived. Rousing himself he exclaimed, “It shall never be said that my Lord who created and saved me shall come to me—in my room—raise me, I beg of you, raise me quickly so that I may go and meet Him.” Saying this he raised himself as well as he could and, supported by his servants, advanced to meet the priest in the outer room. There crying he knelt down.
Poliziano gives a long prayer recited by Lorenzo and then continues:
These and other things he said sobbing, while all around cried bitterly. At length the priest ordered that he should be raised from the ground and carried to his bed, in order to receive the Viaticum in more comfort. For some time he resisted, but at last out of respect for the priest he consented. In bed repeating almost the same prayer, with much gravity and devotion he received the body and blood of Christ. Then he devoted himself to consoling his son Piero, for the others were not there, and exhorted him to bear this law of necessity with courage, feeling sure that the aid of Heaven would be vouchsafed to him, as it had been to himself in many and divers occasions, if he only acted wisely. Meanwhile your Lazarus, the doctor from Pavia, arrived, most learned as it seemed to me, but summoned too late to be of any use. Yet to do something he ordered various precious stones to be pounded together in a mortar for I know not what kind of medicine. Lorenzo thereupon asked the servants what the doctor was doing in his room and what he was preparing, and when I answered that he was composing a remedy to comfort his intestines he recognised my voice, and looking kindly as is his wont: “Oh Angiolo,” he said, “art thou here?” and raising his languid arms took both my hands and pressed them tightly. I could not stifle my sobs or stay my tears though I tried to hide them by turning my face away. But he showed no emotion and continued to press my hands between his. When he saw that I could not speak for crying, quite naturally he loosened my hands, and I ran into the adjoining room where I could give free vent to my grief and to my tears. Then drying my eyes I returned, and as soon as he saw me he called me to him and asked what Pico della Mirandola was doing. I replied that Pico had remained in town fearing to molest him with his presence. “And I,” said Lorenzo, “but for the fear that the journey here might be irksome to him would be most glad to see him and speak to him for the last time before I leave you all.” I asked if I should send for him. “Certainly, and with all speed,” answered he. This I did, and Pico came and sat by the bed, whilst I leaned against his knees in order to hear the languid voice of my lord for the last time. With what goodness, with what courtesy, I may say with what caresses, Lorenzo received him. First he asked his pardon for thus disturbing him, begging him to regard it as a sign of the friendship—the love—he bore him, assuring him that he died more willingly after seeing so dear a friend. Then introducing, as was his wont, pleasant and familiar sayings, he joked also with us. “I wish,” he said to Pico, “that death had spared me until your library had been complete.” Pico had hardly left the room when Fra Girolamo [Savonarola] of Ferrara, a man celebrated for his doctrine and his sanctity and an excellent preacher, came in. To his exhortations to remain firm in his faith and to live in future, if God granted him life, free from crime, or if God so willed it to receive death willingly, Lorenzo answered that he was firm in his religion, that his life would always be guided by it, and that nothing could be sweeter to him than death, if such was the divine will. Fra Girolamo then turned to go when Lorenzo said: “Oh Father, before going deign to give me thy benediction.” Bowing his head, immersed in piety and religion he repeated the words and the prayers of the friar, without paying any attention to the grief now openly shown of his attendants. It seemed that all, save Lorenzo, were going to die, so calm was he. He gave no signs of anxiety or of sorrow; even in that supreme moment he showed his usual strength of mind and his fortitude. The doctors who stood round, not to seem idle, worried him with their remedies and assistance. He submitted to everything they suggested, not because he thought it would save him, but in order not to offend any one, even in death. To the last he had such mastery over himself that he joked about his own death. Thus when given something to eat and asked how he liked it he replied: “As well as a dying man can like anything.” He embraced us all tenderly and humbly asked pardon if during his illness he had caused annoyance to any one. Then disposing himself to receive extreme unction he commended his soul to God. The Gospel containing the Passion of Christ was then read and he showed that he understood by moving his lips, or raising his languid eyes, or sometimes moving his fingers. Gazing upon a silver crucifix inlaid with precious stones and kissing it from time to time, he expired....—Fiesole, May 18, 1492.[403]