wo
mortal foes--the Pope and Francesco Pazzi. Francesco was a thin, pale,
atrabilious fanatic, all nerve and passion, with a monomaniac
intensity of purpose, and a will inflamed and guided by imagination--a
man formed by nature for conspiracy, such a man, in fact, as Shakspere
drew in Cassius. Maddened by Lorenzo's prohibition, he conceived the
notion of overthrowing the Medici in Florence by a violent blow.
Girolamo Riario entered into his views. So did Francesco Salviati,
Archbishop of Pisa, who had private reasons for hostility. These men
found no difficulty in winning over Sixtus to their plot; nor is it
possible to purge the Pope of participation in what followed. I need
not describe by what means Francesco drew the other members of his
family into the scheme, and how he secured the assistance of armed
cut-throats. Suffice it to say that the chief conspirators, with the
exception of the Count Girolamo, betook themselves to Florence, and
there, after the failure of other attempts, decided to murder Lorenzo
and his brother Giuliano in the cathedral on Sunday, April 26th, 1478.
The moment when the priest at the high altar finished the mass, was
fixed for the assassination. Everything was ready. The conspirators,
by Judas kisses and embracements, had discovered that the young men
wore no protective armour under their silken doublets. Pacing the
aisle behind the choir, they feared no treason. And now the lives of
both might easily have been secured, if at the last moment the courage
of the hired assassins had not failed them. Murder, they said, was
well enough; but they could not bring themselves to stab men before
the newly consecrated body of Christ. In this extremity a priest was
found who, 'being accustomed to churches,' had no scruples. He and
another reprobate were told off to Lorenzo. Francesco de' Pazzi
himself undertook Giuliano. The moment for attack arrived. Francesco
plunged his dagger into the heart of Giuliano. Then, not satisfied
with this death-blow, he struck again, and in his heat of passion
wounded his own thigh. Lorenzo escaped with a flesh-wound from the
poniard of the priest, and rushed into the sacristy, where his friend
Poliziano shut and held the brazen door. The plot had failed; for
Giuliano, of the two brothers, was the one whom the conspirators would
the more willingly have spared. The whole church was in an uproar. The
city rose in tumult. Rage and horror took possession of the people.
They