‛ ΑΝ'ΕΚΔΟΤΑ ' ΕΤΕΡΟΥΙΑΚ'Α OR, THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS.  
Written Originally by that Famed Historian, the Sieur de Varillas.  
Made English by FERRAND SPENCE.  
LONDON, Printed by R. E. for R. Bentley and S. Magnes, in Russel-street in Covent Garden, 1686.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY, EARL of PEMBROKE, etc.  
My LORD,  
I Am sensible that this Mortification of your Triumphs, by so unseasonable an Address, when your Lordship has hardly had time to breathe, after Victory over Rebels, to be engaged in the so formidable Rencounter, as that of a Dedication, may, at first, seem a Crime not to be expiated. But if it be considered, that your Lordship has exerted your Loyalty in such a manner, that your Actions bear that Face and Character, as challenge, not only our present Admiration and Eulogies, but stand as Glorious Examples, as well to all Posterity, as the present Age, and will, undoubtedly, prove the greatest Embellishments of the English History, it cannot, in the least, be wondered that I strike in with the public Celebrations. Freedoms and Presumptions of this nature, are the inevitable Attendants of such like Performances as your Lordships; and since the Advantages, we reap thence, are so great, it seems unreasonable to debar us of our Acclamations. The Generous and Brave must either lie Idle, and not furnish us with such Charming Subjects for Discourse, or they must suffer us to exult for the Benefits we thence derive, and not hinder us from giving open expressions of our Delight and Satisfaction.  
These Considerations have, I hope, wherewithal to plead my Excuse, for the boldness of this Offering, and give some reasonable Varnish to the Ambition of being the f●●st that has this way taken to blaze the  
Insigne recens, ad huc  
Indictum ore alio.  
Besides, I do not a little pride myself in the Value and Quality of what I Consecrate to your Lordship: This is not like most of the Books, now commonly published, that resemble those Eggs incapable of Generation, Sunt Ova Zephyria, that produce nothing in the Mind, and from whence we cannot derive the least Profit and Instruction; No, My Lord, this is the Masterpiece of one of the acutest Pens of this Age, tho' the Author had already, by other his Works obtained the name of a finished Writer, and a perfect Historian.  
How well he has merited this Title, your Lordship will find, all along; by his exquisite taste, as to what can please, or displease, tire, or divert; and though he omits nothing necessary, yet is he Concise or Copious, as is most Consistent with the due beauty of his Work. Nothing of Prejudice appears in him. He is not warped nor cainted by Passion, or Interest, or Faction, He blames not, nor Commends, so as to make a satire, or an Encomium, He suffers not Fear or Hope at his Elbow, to jog him on to soothe the Moderns, or curry-savour with Posterity. His Impartiality being such, that from his Relations, there's no guessing at his Country, or his Religion, or his Friends, or his Party. He is far from imitating even those Great Men, that make Speeches for Persons long since dead, which is degenerating History into Romance; tho' some will have it, that tho' it be not Truth, it will serve out turn as well. But this is the Banner of Novels and Poetry, and not the Essential of History. Besides, such Decorations and Flourishes, are only capable of dazzling and amusing the Mobile; and a Plain, Blunt, Downright Truth shall, in a solid Mind, obscure all their Lustre. Not but that his Truths have often the Air of Fiction, but the ushering in of such, are the Prerogative of an Ancedoto-grapher. He does not here and there, by starts, make Parade of Wit, but enchases it throughout the whole Piece. Nor does he lie perdue, on all occasions, to be sh●rging in an Elegancy, but sometimes expresses a mighty Thought in one single word, or hints it without saying it. Yes, my Lord, these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 all along speak a nice and general Knowledge of Men and of Things, a Profound, Subtle and Penetrating Wit, capable of unveiling the true Causes of Humane Actions, from their Pretexts and Colours They are a sort of Cabinet, Historical Inquisition, carrying along a Fancy quick and judicious, conceiving Things aright, and Midwifing them afterwards answerable to the Conceptions. When my Author's subject leads him near a Battle, he has so prepared his Readers, that they themselves seem slusht for Engagement, tho' the quality of his Writing obliges him to wheel 'em off. When he speaks of a Treaty, of the Passions of a Prince, or of a Minister, his Readers imagine themselves entered into Negotiation, are agitated with the same desires, the same uneasinesses and disquiets. The stile of the Original is neither too negligent, nor too pondered, but Plain, Chaste, Perspicuous and Familiar, yet without being low and crawling, and throughout accompanied with Dignity, yet rather lofty in Sentiments than Words, tho' speaking all the Delicacy of the most Polite Courtiers. For he is still mindful that he entertains all Nations and Ages, that he has the whole Earth for his Audience, and to Eternity speaks before the whole Congress of Humane kind, where nothing ought to bolt from him, but what bears the Character of Modesty, of Recluseness, of Respect and Good Manners. And he has herein manifested how infinitely he has refined upon Procopius his Pattern, who has most nauseously violated this Rule in more than a thousand Passages. And take we him only as he is purged and retrenched by Nicolas Alemannus, yet Monsieur Varillas has infinitely the Preference over that Ancient, without needing to supply the befiting Vacuities he has made, by the Vatican Copy, to applaud the Invectives that Balthasar Boniface, Trivorius, le Mothe-le-Vayer, and sundry other Critics have uttered against that Historian. Indeed the Genius of an Ancedoto-grapher being the same with that of a Plain-dealer, will not bias him to Employ, and his Labour and his Industry, or innocently or designedly, to abuse future Ages. And herein my present Author has had, as well the good Fortune, as the Ability and good Will, to do the World Justice; his quality of the French King's Library-keeper advantaging him above any other, to strife into Modern Antiquity. And this he has achieved with that Perfection, that there is not a Person he introduces, but he appears to be acquainted with his every Inclination, and Aversion, and Failure, and weak side. He shows us whence proceed the Complaisances, the Insinuations, and all the curious measures that make an Art of winning Hearts, or, at least, of currying Good Will. In fine, my Author, in this his Performance, has the Gravity of Livy, the Politeness of Sallust, the Policy of Tacitus; and had it been the Province of an Ancedoto-grapher, could, doubtless, have shown as large a knowledge in Tactics as Polybias'.  
But, my Lord, to be more particular, and instance the Union M. Varillas has made of the Talents of Taritus and Sallust, in these his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and thereby his Advantages over those two Authors, Tacitus, has been observed to convert every thing into Policy, that he suffers Nature and Fortune to have little share in Occurrences, and often gives far fetched Causes for Actions altogether Plain, Common, and Natural. Thus out-going Affairs by too much Depth and Sagacity: that his Pieces are too finished▪ through overmuch Art, and too little Nature; and sometimes too curious and too sinical Speculations interpose fine glittering Ideas, in the room of true Objects, without considering that Nature is never so curbed, and under the Hatches, but that it still as much Influences our Actions, as we can regulat●●ns Movements. For Irresolution and Passion prevail equally in the Great, as in the Vulgar. And often a little Cabinet-pique, or Bed Chamber Quarrel, occasions a rumbling World, and is the sours of the greatest Transactions. Something of the Parties Temper does evermore tinge the most concerted Designs. And this my Author has accurately observed, in his Relation of the Imprisonment and Exile of Cosme de Medici, Sir-named the Old, occasioned through Envy at his Great Power and Riches, acquired by his Universal Traffic from Pers●● into Andalusia, there being nothing finer ●ain know of these Gentlemen, what St●m, however Holy, what Dignities and Offices, however August and Sacred, but have been tarnished by unworthy Members. Our Saviour himself, tho' he culled his Twelve, yet had he a Judas. How often did the Race of David degenerate? How often was the High Priest's Office, among the Jews, blemished by unworthy Officiates? The Richest of Humane Blood Ebbs and Flows, Stagnates and Corrupts; and since the whole Race of Mankind is subject to these Infirmitions, no wonder that the House of Medici has, in some of its Offspring, participated of the Frailties incident to the state of Man.  
And this, I suppose, is sufficient to urge is behalf of my Author and his Book. And I will only now crave leave of your Lordship, to drop a Word in excuse of myself, his Interpreter. Some will, perhaps, carp at me, for calling my Traduction a Secret History, whereas the Original had already made the matter Public; but against this, and other Cavils and Objections, that might be raised on the same account, I shall not stand to make a Defence, having, for what I have done, the Authority of all Procopius his Translators. As to my Version, I laboured under some Difficulties through an imperfect Copy; but when we have the whole complete, I am in hopes of laying it at your Lordship's Feet, rectified from such failures.  
I have nothing farther to add, but to beg your Lordship's Pardon, for aspiring to the Honour of your Protection to this foreign Production. And as I do not design this for a Panegyric, but as an Humble Address for your Lordship's Patronage, I will not pretend to resine upon the Public, that is purpetually Celebrating your Lordship for a perfect Model of Honour and Virtue. But though a Relation of their Praises might seem an Attack upon Modesty, yet that of their Blessings must needs be satisfactory. Yes my Lord, all Loyal Hearts bless you, for having so very conspicuously, and advantageously distinguished yourself in the Defence of the Sacred Blood of England, and the true Interests of the Kingdom. Yet, as if Fame thought us not sufficient for your Eulogies, she has occasioned your being Courted to accept of the Best and most Honourable Posts and Employments beyond the Seas. But though other Nations, as well as our own, speak a most peculiar regard for your Lordship's Merit and Gallantry, yet, I am sure, no Man can be with a more profound Respect and Passion, than myself,  
My Lord, Your Lordship's most Humble, Most Devoted, and Most Obedient Servant, F. Spence.   

The AUTHOR'S PREFACE.  
IF Procopius, the only Author from whom we have 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 remaining to us▪ had left behind him the Rules of that kind of Writing; I should not lie under the Obligation of Penning a Preface, being the Authority of that excellent Historian, whom the French King's Press has lately presented so Correct to the World, would be sufficient to screen me from all sorts of Reproaches, supposing I had observed them with exactness.  
But as the Art of writing secret History is still unknown, almost in its whole Extent, and no Philosopher, hitherto, has taken the pains to draw up the Method of it, nor Critic dared to show its Defects, I think myself reduced, like those who engage in new Paths, viz. that I take all the Precautions necessary, to prevent being damned at the entrance of my Work; and therefore mean to impose Laws on myself, according to which, I pretend to be tried by an equitable Reader, on Condition I neither borrow them from my Reason nor Caprice, but only from the Examples of Procopius, whom I will ever have in ken, seeing I cannot find any other Guide.  
Thus it is, with his Approbation, that I lay down for a Foundation of this Discourse, that it is not so easy a matter to write 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as People may imagine, because, on one side, a Man cannot dispense himself from any of the Rules that Aristotle, Cicero, Plutarch, and other the Masters of th' Art have so judiciously prescribed for Public History; and on th' other, there are many others, which I shall relate in the Series of this Preface, which he is no less indispensably bound to observe; from whence I draw two inferences, holding of the Paradox. The first is, what Liberty soever, not to say Libertinage, that's attributed to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, there is no kind of Writing more constrained, nor more reserved, since it has not a quarter of the Extent which the most scrupulous Historians propose to themselves. The second is, That there's no kind of Slavery greater, for an Anecdoto-grapher, than to be tied to tell the truth in all its Circumstances, even when he handles the nicest matters.  
I explain my meaning by so known and memorable an Example, that it cannot be questioned. Certain it is, that Procopius has performed the Duty of a perfect Historian, when that seeking into the Cause that made the Emperor, Justinian, recall Belisarius out of Africa, from whence he had driven the Vandals, in three months' space, tho' the presence of that Great Captain was absolutely necessary to settle his new Conquest. He writes, that this Service was of such Consideration, that Justinian, not finding himself capable of rewarding it, was afraid lest Belisarius, having his Arms in hand, might do himself Justice.  
Procopius stopped there, as thinking he had satisfied the Laws of History; and certainly there would have been injustice in demanding o● him then any thing further. But when he be thought himself, long after, to labour upon those 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, h● fancied there was no more Disguise to be used upon so fantastical a matter, that its most concealed Minutes ought to be laid open, and that his Readers Curiosity would not be fully satisfied, without at least revealing to him that Court Mystery, which tho' he had caused to pass in the second Book of the War of the Vandals, for an effect of a Sovereign's Ingratitude and Jealousy towards one of his Subjects, whom Fortune lifted too high, was, properly speaking, only an Intrigue of Love of Antonina, Belisarius his Wife, she being Cock-a hoop to return to Constantinople, there to see again the infamous Object of her Passion.  
Procopius took the same Course in his Books of the Gothick War, when he had spoken of the same Belisarius his second or third Disgrace; for after having, with all the vigour of his stile, exaggerated the Prejudice Justinian did his own Concerns, by degrading that brave General, in the very instant he came from taking Rome, and delivering Italy from the Lording of the Goths, by winning of a Battle, wherein the King and all the Royal Family remained Prisoners; he was contented with writing, that Belisarius his Enemies were sufficiently powerful, at the Imperial Court, to procure his Repeal.  
But he speaks much more home in his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, wherein he maintains, that the true and principal Cause of his Degradation, came from the Empress Theodora, Justinian's Wife, who being desirous to make Belisarius purchase the Continuation of his Employment, caused him to return to Constantinople, where she proposed to him the obtaining his re-establishment, on condition that his Daughter, who was to be the only Heiress of the immense Riches he possessed, should Marry the Empress' Nephew, having nor Estate nor Virtue, nor Birth, Belisarius Sacrificed his Daughter to his Ambition, and recovered the Generalship at that price; But he kept it but two years: And in this place do I make a third Observation upon the Conduct of Procopius.  
For tho' he owns Belisarius to have surpassed himself by recovering the City of Rome, and the rest of Italy, which the Barbarians had seized on during his absence, tho' he declaims against the harshness of Justinian and Theodora's Infidelity, who recalled him unseasonably for the third time, yet was not he wanting however, when he examines the occasion of it, towards the end of his second Book, to have recourse to the same Calumny, he had made use of, to explain the foregoing Disgrace. And 'tis only in his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that representing Belisarius once again upon the Precipice, he draws the Curtain, and downright avers, that what absolutely pushed him in it, was, that the Empress had got a Fancy to have his Wife return to Constantinople, to have a Confident, nay, and a Companion in her Disorders. The reason of so different a Conduct, in one and the same Author, proceeds, if I be not mistaken, from that the Historian considers almost ever Men in Public, whereas the Anecdoto-grapher only examines 'em in private. Th' one thinks he has performed his duty, when he draws them such as they were in the Army, or in the tumult of Cities, and th' other endeavours by all means to get open their Closet-door; th' one sees them in Ceremony, and th' other in Conversation; th' one fixes principally upon their Actions, and th' other would be a Witness of their inward Life, and assist at the most private hours of their leisure: In a word, the one has barely Command and Authority for Object, and the other makes his Main of what occurs in Secret and in Solitude.  
Not but that the Writer of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 draws a Picture of Persons, as exact, and as faithful, at the least, as can be done by the Historian; but he does it after his own Mode. He represents only as much of the Man's Outside, as is necessary to know his Inside; and as the good and bad dispositions of the Mind, are only to be disclosed in the Manners, 'tis also for the Manners that he reserves his liveliest Colours, and finest Materials.  
So scrupulous is he in this point, that he minds not provoking the Anger, or incurring the Indignation of the Persons Concerned. But he is commonly so unhappy, that what ought to pass for a Virtue, is imputed to him as a Crime. He supposes for one of his Principles, that fine Secret which Plutarch first discovered in Moral Philosophy, namely, That there is no state in Life, wherein a Man is more careless to conceal what passes in the bottom of his Heart, than when the passion that Lords him is arrived to excess.  
However, when he follows the divers Agitations occasioned, for example, by the fury of Love, and the despair of Jealousy, he is forthwith aspersed as a Detractor; and that he only writes a satire, wherein his Condition is much more unhappy, than that of the Painter, who is fully justified, if he can show that his Portrait altogether resembles th' Original, whereas the Writer of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 has never more reason to fear being ill treated, than when what he relates of Viciousness is most true.  
I insist upon this point, it being, perchance, that which has diverted Historians, before and since Procopius, from this kind of Writing, and which, by Consequence, must needs set me a trembling. I undertake to draw the Picture of Pope Clement the 7th, and if I design to do it to the Life, I must detect his Ruling Passion, and examine to its least Symptoms. Not a Man, that I know of, has yet said what it was; and I am the first that maintains it to have consisted in a blind and whimsical desire, with which he was ever possessed, of ravishing his fellow Citizens of their Freedom, to raise to the Sovereignty of Florence, two Bastards of his House, though it did not then want several Legitimate Children, whose Heroic actions might have merited the Choice, and whom all Mankind judged, beyond Comparison, more capable of filling that place.  
I do not fear being Cavilled upon this Proposition, as being sure there cannot any material Circumstance be found in the Life of that Pope, but what alludes to this Assertion. Nay, I fancy, that if I proceeded no further, I should be so happy as to scape the onset of Critics. But have I not reason to lie under dismal Apprehensions, when the necessity of my subject shall oblige me to grope on, and put Truth in all its Light? When the sad Destiny of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that cannot endure any thing mysterious, should be left to Posterity without explaining it, or any thing secret without revealing it, shall engage me insensibly to take off the Paint, with which Historians fucussed most of Clement's Actions, to show how many weaknesses and faults against true Policy, budded from this first irregularity, and to explain the minutes of those failings, which passed, at length, even to the preference of the youngest of those two Bastards, to the eldest, tho' the youngest had not any of the qualities necessary for Command and Government, and that the Eldest possessed them all, by the consent of those who knew him, and even to the exposition of Catharine, only Daughter, and sole Heiress of his House, in a Curbed, Headstrong, and Rebellious Town, whose Inhabitants he had reduced to despair, by a Siege of eighteen Months.  
Moreover the Writer of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 makes a scruple of charging himself with pompous matters, and as he principally aims at knowing what is peculiar in the Inclinations, he stops sometimes, to glean up such matters as were neglected and fling aside by the Historian. An unforeseen Answer serves him to penetrate into the bottom of People's Intentions. If he had been at Florence with Alessandro de Medici, one bare word of that Duke, would have sufficed him to make his Portrait. He would have supposed that the impenetrability of his Secret, his being his own sole Confident, was itself his true Character, as soon as he had heard him say, that he was himself the Keeper of his own Designs; but a Keeper so Jealous, that he did not allow 'em to stir one moment out of his heart, to take the Air upon the brink of his Lips.  
I ingenuously own, that the Historian does not do the like, and willingly do I leave him in possession of that fine Maxim of Adrianus Marcellinus, Discurrere per Negotiorum Celsitudines non humilium minutias indagare Causarum. I take it kindly of Lucian, for having rallied those who would go another way to Work, and I blame Guichiardini for having so often violated this Rule; but I pretend likewise to be left in my turn, to enjoy, peaceably, the Privilege of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and to relate with a serious Air, the smallest trifles, when they have been th' Origine or occasion of the greatest Matters.  
Perhaps I shall have the Validity of these Privileges denied me, upon that Procopius, who has advantaged himself of 'em so often, has no where taken the pains to establish them. But I answer, in the first place, that tho' it were so, I should still have left a Possession of above twelve hundre● years, which, in good Law, equals at least a new Title. And in the second, I maintain, that Procopius hi● silence cannot turn to my disadvantage, since it is contradicted by th● contrary use of the same Author, following the Maxim of Philosophers who give force to the Negative Argument only, when there is nothing opposite in the same Place, from whence it is drawn. And I observ● in the third, that a Man cannot b● well grounded, to draw an Inference of that Nature, from Procopius hi● Books of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, because this Wor● has not been preserved absolutely entire, as is easy to judge, by the Passages cited in Suidas and Evagrius that are not now a days found in any of our Editions, or Manuscripts Which would give me always occasion on to pretend that Procopius might have spoken in the Fragments which we want, of what People will needs have him to have forgotten and omitted.  
But, after all, tho' I should be deprived of Procopius his Authority, I should still have a reason left, which ought, in my Opinion, to pass for Fundamental, in the matter now in hand; namely, That notwithstanding the Writer of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is no less obliged, than the Historian, to tell the Truth, yet he is not obliged to tell it in the same manner; for the Historian is not properly bound to tell it, but when the Transactions he relates are so true, as that they are probable; and Guichiardin will be ever blamed for having related 
* In the Fifth Book of his History.  the Case of two Rival Brothers, th' one of whom having known that th' other was better beloved, because he had finer Eyes, tore them out from him, and sent them in a Box to his Mistress. There should he have stopped, and not have added, that these same Eyes were remitted in their place, by so delicate a hand, that they recovered th' use of sight.  
Yet am I not of their Opinion, who think this single Instance sufficient to make Guichiardin's Process, and Convict him not only of Falsehood, but likewise of manifest Error against common Sense. I am willing to suppose, with the Adorers of this Historian, that the two Persons, of whom he speaks, were sufficiently Eminent in Italy, to be known, and that the Place of the Blindness and of the Cure, which they are minded to maintain, was not so remote from Florence, but that a Man might be informed of it in a short time, and without difficulty. What I now find fault with is, that so Tragical and Capricious an Event, tho' it may be true, was not probable, at least in its utmost particularity, which ought to be omitted, or related with the due Precautions, for the persuading the Reader, that there was no design to impose on his Credulity.  
On the contrary, the Writer of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 has, for Object, Truth in all its Extent; he considers it equally, either that it be probable, or not probable; and the same Procopius who had taken such pains to be believed, when herelates, 
* In the first Book of the Gothick War.  in his History, that one single Isaurian Cavalier had put to rout a whole Army of the Goths, the self same Procopius says, I use neither Precaution nor Preamble in my 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, when the thing in hand is to describe the strange Postures of the Emperor Justinian in the Night time.  
After his Example shall I take the freedom to examine all the Symptoms of the Great Cosmo de Medici his sickness, and endeavour to sift, by what accidents of Fatigue or of Debauchery, that Prince's Body lost the three Functions of the Mind, one after th' other, during the three last years of his Life, and was deprived, by a successive alteration of his Organs, first of Reason, then of Motion and of Sentiment, and at last of Life.  
But if the Writer of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 has on this side, more Liberty than the Historian, he has it not on another which would be much more material to him: for he cannot propose to himself or Interest or Glory, for the end of his enterprise, and the Field he cultivates is to him so useless, that it produces him only Thorns and Briars: He runs a risque of losing all, instead of profiting; and the same Conastagio, who had been promised ten thousand Crowns, besides an ample Pension for Life, for writing the History of the reunion of Portugal to the Crown of Castille, was threatened with Bastinadoes, as soon as it came to be known, that he elsewhere than at the Spanish Ambassador's House at Genova, sought after Memoirs for writing the late Revolutions of the Low Countries.  
He would not so much as dare to hope to raise his Name from Oblivion, by causing others to revive: and in the Most Christian King's Library, have I read several Manuscripts, which Infallibly will be never Printed, because they draw the Picture a little too much to the Life, of some Illustrious Persons, in whom History has not hitherto found any Defects, or at least was not willing to find any.  
He can neither make his Wit nor his Eloquence glitter nor sparkle, by reason those sorts of Truths that fall within his Sphere, ought necessarily to appear stark naked, and I do not think there hardly can be found in Antiquity, a more careless stile, in that kind of Writing, than is that of Procopius.  
In fine, he obliges neither the Age, whose Errors he recounts, nor that wherein he lives. Those who ought to gain most by his Instructions, are those who are most provoked in reading them; and if the state of Venice had not offered an Azylum to the unfortunate Boccolini, there would not have been any safety for him in the Old or New World, so dreadful was then the Power of those, whose hatred he had incurred 
* Pietra deal Paragon Politico.  by his Touchstone.  
I launch out much farther, and assert, that there is hardly any Paradox in the Stoic Philosophy, but what, by a contrary sense, is verified in the Destiny of a Writer of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; he searches after Truth with an indefatigable Care, but ever pursues he it unprofitably, he thinks to attain to Felicity, by attaining to Truth, and yet bears off and distances himself from his own Happiness gradually, as he approaches Truth; he Combats for it with a world of Pains and Trouble, and yet he never Triumphs after having Vanquished. In short, he is the Slave of Truth, as Epictetus was of Virtue, he must cherish it for its own sake, and never complain of the Mischiefs it makes him suffer, provided he is Soothed and Cockered with the hopes of possessing it.  
Excellent Painters are there, who make Pourtraicts according to all the Rules of Art; and yet those Pourtraicts are not altogether resembling they add ever something to the Faces they represent; and tho' they do not omit any of the Features or Lineaments, they so raise and set off the Air and Colouring, that they are found much handsomer on the Cloth, than they are in th' Original. I do not think there ever to have been any Historian, that has entirely avoided this Defect: and this hinders me from calling it a Fault. And I could quote an infinite number of Ancient and Modern Examples; but I'll reduce myself to that of Leo the 10th, as sharing in my Subject.  
Three Celebrated Historians are there, who have employed all the Strength and Delicacy of their Style, to express that Pope's Genlus to the Life; namely, Paulus Jovius, Guichiardin, and Padre Paolo Sarpi, of the Order of the Servi. Yet they go so different a way to work, that the three principal Heroes of Italy are not more different among themselves in Manners and Conduct, than Leo the 10th is from himself, in the Writings of those three Authors.  

In his Book and in his particular Eulogy of Leo the 10th.  Paulus Jovius makes him pass for a Man Arrogant and Stately, and ever endeavouring to carry things with a high hand. To him does he impute the same Warlike humour that possessed Giulio the 2d, his Predecessor. He made him conceive, even before his Exaltationy a disdainful Contempt of all the rest of the Sacred College; founded upon an imaginary precedence of the House of Medici o'er other the Families of Italy; he causes that Contempt to intervene in all the signal Actions, and even in the most august Ceremonies; he takes him for the Source and Foundation of the obstinate War against the Duke of Urbin, and of other the Quarrels that arose in the Pontificate; in a word, he will needs have that Vanity; but a haughty shocking Vanity was his predominant Inclination.  
If you are concerned to know how Paulus Jovius has penetrated so far into Leo's Bosom, to pronounce of him so decisive a Judgement, he himself obviates your question, by declaring that he was that Pope's Creature, that this Holiness caused him to lay aside the Profession of Physic, and the pretention of a Chair at Padova, to engage himself in an Ecclesiastical state, made him Bishop of Cosmo, chose him to be his Confident, and to assist at the Councils, wherein the most important, and most secret Resolutions were taken, engaged him to write the History of his time, interposed in his behalf in France and in Spain, that he might have Communicated to him th' Authentic Pieces, he might think needful for the Perfection of his Work: and laid himself wholly open to him, in frequent and familiar Conversation. Would not a Man say, to hear him talk in this manner, that he has made the true Portrait of Leo the Tenth.  
Nevertheless, Guichiardin, 
In the 12 〈◊〉 Art of his History.  who wrote upon the same subject, at the same time, has made one directly contrary. He gives us this Pope for a finished Model of Modern Policy, and for the greatest Cabinet-Man of his Age; he places him above King Ferdinand the Catholic, and makes him Triumph, in his Youth, over that old Usurpers Stratagems. To him it is he attributes the secret of making the Council of Spain, willy-nilly, back and further all his Designs.  
After having laid down these wonderful Principles, no glittering Virtues are there, but what set off Leo the 10th's Picture. He frames from ten years old, when first made Cardinal, those vast Projects he since executed, when exalted to St. Peter's Chair. He negotiates with the States of Venice, for the saving and retrieving the Wrecks of his House, that had run a ground on the Fortune of Charles the 8th. He does not alter his Resolution, by having seen his brother perish at the Passage of a River. He has no other thoughts than for the advancement of th' only Son that Brother left in the Cradle, and thereupon he returns to Rome, where his Intrigues give him access to Pope Giulio the Second Favour, and procure him to be Elected Legate in the Army designed to drive the French out of Italy; he is taken Prisoner at the Battle of Ravenna, but he makes his escape in a Conjuncture fatal for himself, since that Giulio was newly expired: He enters the Conclave, where he so improves the young Cardinal's Caprice, they having whirled their Heads with a Design of making a Pope of their own Age, that he works their Suffrages to turn in favour of himself. He joins with the Spaniards, and husbands their Friendship, as long as it is of use to him, for the reinstating his House in the principal Functions of the Magistracy of Florence; but as soon as Fortune turns her back upon 'em, and that he finds their Council not of a humour to suffer that he usurp the Duchy of Urbin, therewith to invest his Nephew; he treats with the French on that Condition, draws up the famous Concordate, wherein he Fools and Bafles the Wiles and long Experience of Chancellor du Prat; he Caresses Francis the First, as long as that King is in a Condition to do him good; but he has no sooner rooked and wheadled him out of all he aimed at, but that he gives him the slip, to reconcile himself with Charles the Fifth. He projects with this Emperor, for the re-establishing the Sforza's in the Duchy of Milan. He succeeds sooner than he expected, and receives such tidings that so transported him with joy, as occasioned his Death.  
Now this is Guichiardin's Leo the 10th, a Piece not in the least resembling that of Paulus Jovius. Yet it's past all doubt, that he was at least as well informed; for he came of a Family entirely devoted to that of Medici; he was almost of the same Age with Leo, he had been Educated with him, he had accompanied him in good and bad Fortune, he had managed the most subtle Intrigues of his Exaltation, he had received extraordinary Honours and Benefits from him, then, by his Order, did he return to Florence, where he completed the Downfall of the popular Faction, and managed the Dispositions of his Countrymen, with so much Address, that this Pope, by his means, Commanded nine years in that City, in spite of its Liberty. His Holiness had called him thence to honour him with an Office, wherein he was obliged to confide in him the most important of his secrets, by making him Commissary General of the Armies of the League against the French, which he officiated at the very time of that Pope's dying.  
After this, can Guichiardin be reproached, with having wanted sufficient Instructions? And shall we not find other Historians in the last Century, much inferior to him in this point, far from being in any wise to be compared to him? Yet Padre Paolo, who has laboured at Leo the 10th's Portrait, after Paulus Jovius and Guichiardin, has imitated neither of their Strokes and Lineaments; he represents him as a Voluptuous Person, that pampered himself with the enjoyment of all the Sweetnesses of the Popedom, and waved all its Bitternesses, that troubled his head with no knotty nor difficult Affair, referred to Subaltern Ministers those which demanded Time and Application, enriched his Relations and Servants, not out of kindness, but that he might be the better served, and the more Caressed; made an incurable Wound in the Church, by the Concordate with Francis the First, and empoverish'd St. Peter's Patrimony by his Profusions; Ravished his Country of its freedom, out of a Caprice, and minded not to restore it, when, after his Brother and Nephew's death, departing this Life without Male Children, there was no one of his Family capable of gaining by the Mischiefs he had done; made a Present to his Sister of the Money, which the Piety of the Germans had designed for the waging War upon the Infidels, committed the distribution of Indulgences in the Duchy of Upper Saxony, to the most avaricious of his Courtiers, neglected the Heresy of Luther in its beginning, and did not set about stopping the Gangrene, till when it was become incurable; had too Libertine Sentiments of Religion, and troubled his head little about another Life.  
I dare not speak my mind of the Resemblance of this Picture, but yet I know that Padre Paolo wrote after the Relations of Ambassadors, which the State of Venice sent to the Court of Rome, in the time of Leo's Popedom, and that those Relations are commonly very exact, and very true, as we have newly seen, by that of Correro, tho' even Cardinal Pallavicino's History, who has undertaken to refute that of Padre Paolo, and says nothing against what respects Leo's Person, were not a tacit Approbation of what I have newly noted.  
What will then the Writer of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 do, such as I may be? He will take the Pencil after Paulus Jovius, Guichiardin, and Padre Paolo, but he will use neither their Colours nor Ideas. His manner will be wholly new, and whereas others had painted Pope Leo in his Habit of Ceremony, he will represent him in his Undress. He will slip in among ten or twelve of the Polite and Topping Wits, who commonly assisted at his Private Recreations, and at his Cozening himself into a sleep, and will take him in his gay Humour, wherein he was, for Example, when he flushed them the Design of the 
* It was Printed in Germany, in the Collection of Ornarius.  fine Grammar, and of some other such like Pieces, which have not perhaps been sufficiently valued, either in their own Age, or in ours, considering the delicacy of their Invention. He will go and seek him in a Vasari, but the Vasari of the first Edition: For what I am going to say, has been retrenched from the others. He will go and seek him, I say, when he sometimes delighted in thwarting, and at others in condescending to Michael Angelo's capricious humour, when he would see, against his will, his Work before it was finished, and that he exposed his Person to the being crushed under a Scaffold, which Michael caused to fall upon him out of spite; whereupon this Painter having betaken himself to his Heels, and not daring to return, he was forced to make him Ambassador of the State of Florence, for the re-incouraging him by that inviolable Character, and that at the first Audience he gave him in that Quality, in a Gallery where the Pope received him with his Cane in hand, Angelo's Fear redoubled, but needlessly, because all Leo's Anger and Cudgelling were discharged upon a Chamberlain, who would needs show himself impertinently Arrogant in so odd a Conversation.  
In fine, the Writer of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 will make Extracts out of the excellent Letters, of the Cardinals Bembo, and Sadolet, and those of Peter Martyr, and Silvius Antonianus.  
Hence he will borrow Secrets, that have scaped the knowledge of the most exact Historians, and from all those Irradiations together, he frames a Character of Leo the 10th, which if it be not as beautiful as the foregoing, will be, at least, as Curious.  
But thanks to his Most Christian Majesty's Library; I am not reduced to be contented with a small matter; and I have found Memoirs still more Ample, and more Authentic Instructions. Well known it is, that the first Sovereign's of the House of Medici, could not so well conceal their principal Adventures, nor under the Ashes so well cover the flames of their Amours, and the smoke of their Ambition, but that there has flown thence some sparks, even to this side the Alps: They never acted without Witnesses, and tho' they had used all the Precautions imaginable to delude Posterity, the intestine War that has sometimes been kindled in their Family, has hardly left us Strangers to the least of their Intrigues.  
Strozzi's there have been, who have taken refuge in France; and as their Mother was the nighest Heiress of Leo the 10th, their Father, the best Friend of Clement the 7th; and that they had themselves been concerned in most of the Revolutions that happened under Cosmo the Great, they have Collected such particular Memoirs, that the World has reason to exult for their exactness.  
Not but that these Memoirs ought to be in some wise suspected, and that they even bear, in several passages, the Impressions of the Hatred, Spite, Jealousy, and Revenge, wherewith, it cannot be denied, but that the Authors were possessed. But 'tis on this score that I have disinherited them, and that I have never believed them in the least Circumstance upon their bare words. I have ever confronted them with their Adversaries answers, and have only allowed them so far Credence, as it has not appeared to me that those answers were sufficient. In a word, I assert nothing, without having examined the Contradictions, and whosoever shall take the pains to read the Works of Ceri, Adianis, and Manuce, three the most famous Panegyrists of Cosmo the Great, he will find therein wherewithal to justify me on that point.  
Now if I have the advantage of the Illustrations, which one of the two Parties gives me, to the disadvantage of the other; if I have weighed the divers Interests and different Motives, if I have compared them with the Circumstances, and if groping along, and walking warily, I have endeavoured to attain to the knowledge of secret Transactions, by the means of those with which I was unacquainted, I have done in this but what is daily done by Judges, when they are about pronouncing upon the Life, or the Reputation of the accused, whose Crimes are not sufficiently averred.  
And indeed an Anecdoto-grapher, has hardly any other secret, by the report of 
* 'tis the Sophist Marcellinus.  him, who has left us in writing the Life of Thucydides, to set to Rights the confused Memoirs he has Collected, than by examining diligently the matters they agreed upon, and to make use of them afterwards, as Principles for the judging of the truth of others, of which they do not jump in an accord. But tho' he does not appeal to Historians, what Authorities soever they may have; nay, tho' he makes profession of writing almost ever Transactions, or at least Particularities that were unknown to Historians; yet he does not meddle with reproving them, or loading them with Invectives; or as Thimeus did, who palliates them instead of blackening them. He would dissemble their Faults, if he could do it without betraying his own Knowledge; and when that truth, which, following Tertullian's expression, is the most imperious of Virtues, forces him to bring them into Light, he never does it without extenuating them, or excusing himself before hand, for what he is going to do. He knows that there is nothing that escapes so soon, nor so easily as that truth, that he who first taught us that it was in the bottom of a Well, might be suspected of having buried it there all his Life, and that the proneness and slooping of Corrupted Nature to falsehood, is no less slippery than that it has to Love.  
The reason which obliges him to take this Course, 
In the second Book of his Library.  is drawn from Diodorus Siculus, who maintains, that as there are feeble Geniusses that are tempted to do Mischief, as soon as they know the manner of committing it, there are likewise strong ones, with whom its sufficient to represent Vice in its most lively Colours, to divert them from it. 'Tis for Minds of this last stamp that a Writer of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 labours, as the Historian, for those of the first. They both tend to the same end, tho' they take opposite Paths: and the Chemist, who gives Antimony to drink, after having Corrected its Malignity, obliges the Public no less, than he who composes a Medicine of the most innocent Simples.  
The Judgement is formed and fashioned as well by the Contemplation of Evil, as of Good; and if Morality was deprived of this sort of Instructions, it would be in a worse Condition, than the young Greek Gentlemen, that went to Thebes, to Ismenias his House, to learn to play upon the Flute, because that great Personage, after having showed them the secret of Mouthing it, made them hear a Man that played very sorrily, that he might make them know the defects of his Art, at the same time he gave them its Precepts.  
Quintilian took the same Course with the Roman Knights and Senators Children, 
In the 5th Chapter of the Second Book.  who came to his House to learn Rhetoric; for he as often led them to hear the bad Declamers as the good. He made them observe the Vices of the Harangues which the Vulgar most admired, the improper Words, the obscure ways of speaking, the Fustian, Sordid, and Effeminate styles, and those which shock Chaste Ears.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 are the Mirors which do not flatter, 
In his second Book  and the same Diodorus, who shrifts after their Origine with the utmost exactness, remarks, that Egypt enjoyed a very long and most profound Tranquillity, as long as they were in use in that Kingdom; for as soon as the King was dead, his Body was exposed in the midst of the public place, where every one had the freedom to praise him as much as he deserved, and to upbraid him with all the evil actions he had committed, they put into the Scales the Complaints and Acclamations, and if his Vices were found to have overbalanced his Virtues, his Memory was detested, and his Body refused the honour of Burial. His Successor made his advantage of an Example he had been Eye-witness to, and Governed the State with all the Justice necessary, for the having nothing to fear from the public Odium after his Death.  
Certainly it would not be a little Contributing, to the Felicity of Ages to come, as to make him see things after the same manner they were in ours, or in that of our Forefathers, without thereto adding any thing diminishing or changing. Those who have scaped, through good Luck or Cunning, the Punishments they had merited, would not scape the Infamy; and those, whom their Example might attract into the like Crimes, would accustom themselves betimes to have, for Posterity, some sort of Fear mingled with Respect. They would dread the Judgement of their Nephews, and fall to doing such actions as would challenge Approbation. They would be afraid, as well as Cicero, of what would be said of them six hundred years after; they would, like him, beseech Modern Authors not to treat them ill in their Writings; and for the giving them occasion of doing it, without prejudice of Truth, they would put into their hands sincere Acts and authentic Instructions.  
There has been found People sensible to the stroke of a Pen, though they were not so, or to the remorses of Conscience, or the severity of the Laws; and a Prince was seen in the beginning of the last Century, who, not being to be diverted from committing an Incest with his own Daughter, by all the Maxims of the Christian Religion, was efficaciously so, by the Reflection he was wrought to make, that the thing could not be so well concealed, but that it would be known by Posterity.  
Not but that, ever and anon, there has been found Men generous enough, as not to be influenced to disguise the Truth, either by the quality of the Presents that were made them, or by fear of the Punishments, wherewith they were threatened. But yet there has been so few of them, principally in the two last Ages, that I have been able but to find out a pair, whose Example it will not be perhaps amiss to relate in this place, for the rarity of the matter.  
Never was there a King that was more concerned, for what would be said of him, after his Death, than the last Alfonso, that wore the Crown of Naples. He not only laboured at winning of Battles, and doing those sorts of actions which savour of the Romance, but he was likewise solicitous to find out Pens worthy of writing them, and capable of embellishing them. Not one famous one was there, but he endeavoured to gain or corrupt, and all such as were in Repute, received from him Pensions or Presents, in whatever Country of Europe, Birth, or Fortune had confined them; yet never was yet never was there a Monarch whose Infirmities have been better particularised than his. We are not strangers to the least of his Frailties, and what avails it to read in Pontanus, Panormus, Benedicti, and in sixty four other Historians, that he possessed all the Noble qualities that form Heroes. No body believes 'em, and the World is rather inclined to give Credit to Bernardino Cerico, who attributes to him only very common Affections, tho' this Cerico is otherwise a very piteous Historian.  
Castruccio Castracani, on the contrary, has been defamed by thirty celebrated Historians of Italy, ten of whom are of Florence. He has been reproached with all the excesses whereof Tyranny is capable, when above the reach of Fear: And Machiavelli has writ a piece on purpose, in so terse, malign a stile, that he turns into Ridicule, all the actions he cannot blame. Yet has he not been believed no more than his Countrymen; and though Nicolas Tegrinus, who made at the same time that Great Captain's Apology was inferior to Machiavelli, in all the other parts that make up a perfect Historian: Nevertheless People have jugded Tegrinus to be the sincerest of the two. They have approved the Contradictions he puts in his Preface, for the undeceiving those who had been prepossessed to the Prejudice of Truth; and 'tis now allowed on all hands, that neither the Testimony of Machiavelli, nor that of the other Florentines, is receiveable in what relates to Castracani, as being suspected of designing to revenge their Country, at least with the Pen, for the Affronts, which it had received from a General of an Army, who had been its most formidable Enemy, though they were convinced, that this General had no other failures, than what proceeded from his living in a Conjuncture, wherein it was not possible to exercise Military Virtues, by lawful means.  
But as the two Events which I have newly related, are perhaps those only, wherein rigorous Justice has been done to oppressed Truth, ever since History was written, it is not to be expected, but by a due course of proceeding. The shelve is to be avoided, which commonly wrecks those who do not fancy, that too much exactness can be used, in detecting the most secret matters. You must remember, that though a Writer of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is more often, and more strictly bound to speak the Truth, than an Historian, yet he is not so in all occasions; to speak without exception, on the contrary, he ought to suppress it all along, where it is not possible to reveal it, without acting against good Manners.  
Town that Procopius has failed against this Principle, and I am too sincere not to abandon him in thi● point. I do not undertake either to excuse him, or defend him; and 〈◊〉 should go myself astray, as well a● deviate my Readers, if I followed hi● steps. I take it kindly of tha● Man's Modesty, 
Th● German Doctor.  causing his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to be Printe● has retrenched such Passages, wherein the Infamies of the Empress Theodora, when she assisted at the Public● Divert●sements, were too lively represented. I wish this Vacuum ma● be never filled, and that those wh● are able to do it, may have neither the Will nor the Leisure.  

This Priography is in the Gallery of the French King's Library.  I have little less Aversion for the Impudence of Petrus Candidus December, who wrote two hundred years agone, the Lives of the Dukes of Milan, and People would have been well enough satisfied, without knowing why Filippo Visconti caused the young Gentlemen of Milan to play at Tennis so often in his presence.  
The art of the most Infamous Prostitution, ought not to be learned in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, no more than in History, and the Laws of Decency well deserve to be as scrupulously kept in the one, as in th' other. Dangerous thoughts ought not to be imprinted in People's Minds, under the Cant of rendering to them Vice the more abominable, nor fill 'em with shameful Ideas, when the business is to ammate them to the pursuit of Glory, by laying before them the most eminent Virtues.  
Neither ought it to be suffered in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or in History, that in public there appear things, as would not be heard without a Horror, in a well regulated Conversation, and if the Ordures that are read in the Old Romances, are not wanting to produce pernicious effects, though we are forewarned of their falsehoods, what will not those do, which the memory shall endeavour to retain, because they are true.  
Never was there any Republic, that has given a Right to private Persons, over another's Reputation, and but has punished those who went to disturbed the Dead in their very Graves. The Morals of the Fathers, and Councils will have us hold him for an honest Man, who had the repute of so being, at the Moment he ceased living, when that there is no evident proofs to the contrary; and 'tis principally for this last Consideration, that I shall draw the Curtain over the Amours of Cosmo de Medici with Camilla Martelli, and over those of Duke Francisco his Son with Bianca Capello. I shall leave the principal Circumstances of them, in the Memoirs wherein I have seen them, and shall only thence cull those that have so peculiar a Connexion, with the most notable Events of those two Prince's Lives, that for want of having chosen them, neither Manuce, nor Civi, nor th' other Historians are intelligible, in the passages of their great Volumes which are ferreted with too much Curiosity. But it's too long stopping the Reader at the entrance of this, I must introduce him within doors, and render him Judge, whether I have put well in practise the Speculations, wherewith I have been entertaining him.   

THE CONTENTS OF THE BOOKS.  

The First Book.  
THE great Riches of Cosmo de Medici, Surnamed the Old, acquired by Traffic, rendering him suspected to the Florentines, four of the most Illustrious Families Conspire against him, and got him clapped into Prison. The Design is laid to Poison him, but he avails himself of the Gaolers' Irresolution, and of a Boufoon's Address, by whose means he gains the Gonfalioniere, who nicks his time, and dexterously sets him again at Liberty. He withdraws to Venice, from whence he contrives his return to Florence, and causes his Enemies to be banished. He ends his Life in quiet, and leaves but one Son, called Piero, of small Sense, but a sequestered Health. The Pitti's Conspire to assassinate him, and lay their Measures competently well; but he escapes 'em through a Caprice that happily came into his mind. Their Conspiracy is discovered, they are banished. The Venetians support them. They invade Tuscany with an Army, but the design of surprising Pisa being ill concerted, makes them lose th' occasion of entering Florence, and of taking the advantage of Piero de Medici's death, occasioned by the Gout.   

The Contents of the Second Book.  
LOrenzo de Medici rallies his Father's Friends, and restores the Affairs of his Family. He goes and joins the Florentine Army with fresh Troops, and is present at the Battle, wherein Field-pieces are first put in use, and where the Servants, one both sides with Flambeaus, light their Masters, while a Fight. Federigo d'Urbino wins one of Coglione's Quarters. The Republic of Venice abandons the Pitti's, and the Marquis of Mantova reconciles them with the State of Florence, The Volterrans Revolt. Lorenzo de Medici causes the Siege of the Town to be raised, and pardons them, after having constrained 'em to surrender at discretion. He demands of the Pope is Cardinal's Cap, for his Brother Giuliano, but is refused. He takes his Revenge, by causing the Army of the Church to moulder away before Tiferno, and by hindering the Pope's Nephew from acquiring the Sovereignty of Immola, from whence is framed the Pazzi's Conspiracy. Giuliano de Medici is therein killed, and Lorenzo escapes. All the Accomplices are punished, and the Archbishop of Pisa is trussed up at a Window of the Palace, in his Pontifical Vestments. Bandini only gets into Turkey. But Sultan Bajazet delivers him to Lorenzo de Medici's Factors.   

The Contents of the Third Book.  
COmmissioner Nardi concludes a League between the Pope and the King of Naples, against the Florentines. Lorenzo de Medici sustains the War; but seeing himself abandoned by his Allies, takes a bold Resolution. He causes the choice of the young Florentine Nobility to follow him, under the Pretence of a Hunting Match. Goes aboard a Galley. Bears away directly for Naples. Amazes King Ferrand, by this Heroic Act of Trust. Breaks all the Measures of Resalli the Ambassador. By new ways disconcerts the Practices of that Old Minister. Ruins him in the King's good Opinion. Enstates himself in his room. Inclines the King to all he aims at. Makes him break his League with the Pope. Procures Peace to the Florentines. Causes their Towns to be restored them, and a Treaty of Guaranty to be signed with them. Two years after, the King of Naples is almost oppressed by his Nobles Conspiring with the Pope, and the Venetians, who meant to share his State. Lorenzo de Medici succours him without staying to be desired to do't. Lends him Money. Debauches the Troops that had overcome him. Causes the Orsini's to declare for him, and restores him to all Intents. After which, all his Thoughts tend only to maintain Peace in Italy,   

The Contents of the Fourth Book.  
THE famous ginger Leoni, the Topping Physician of all Italy, comes to Carrego, to prescribe to Lorenzo de Medici, during his Sickness. Is mistaken as well in his Predictions, in quality of ginger▪ as in his Prescriptions, in quality of Physician. The Patient dies through his Fault; and Piero de Medici, out of rage, throws him into a Well, wherein he is drowned, as was Prognosticated, by the Calculation of his own Nativity. The Eulogy of the Wits, that were Friends, or received Gratifications from Lorenzo de Medici Aretin thinking there to be no other Manuscripts than his, of Procopius his History, burns it, and has it Printed in his own Name, but his Larceny is discovered. December prostitutes the Reputation of the Duke of Milan, who sets him to write his History. The Academics of Rome take a fancy to travesty their Name in Greek. The Pope imagines it a cover to a Conspiracy they had contrived against him. He causes 'em to be secured, and some of 'em put upon the Rack. Platina is of this number. The Cardinals of the Conclave go to Bessarion's Cell, to make him Pope. His Conclavist, Perroti, sends 'em away for fear of diverting his Master from his Studies. They take pet, and choose another. Politianus dies of a transport of Love. The Prince of Mirandola writes against Astrologers. They meet, Calculate his Nativity, and send him word, he will die, as young as he is, before his Work is finished. Their Prediction is fulfilled.   

The Contents of the Fifth Book.  
THE Calamities of the House of Medici proceeded from the same Lodovico Sforza, who ruin'd that of Naples, and his own. A curious Recital of Piero de Medici's Imprudences, that are found mingled with th' Artifices of his Enemies. He flies away from Florence. He is upon the point of being restored by a French Intrigue, who foster designs of supplanting Cardinal Brissonnet. He is sought after, but not found. The true Causes of Savonarola's Advancement and Downfall. The Ursini's labour in vain to re-establish the Medici's, and reveal to them Valentinois' design of delivering them up to the Florentines. Valentin finding by whom his Design was detected, kills the Ursini's at the Feast of Senegaglia, which plunges Piero de Medici into a Despondency. He sides with France, and is drowned at the Mouth of the Garigliano. His Brother, the Cardinal, withdraws to Rome, where he sharps it until his Legation. The secret Circumstances of his taking at the Battle of Ravenna, and of his escape. Soderim's Brother's Covetousness, gives him occasion to bribe the Officers of the Spanish Army, which restores him in Florence. He has Machiavelli there put to the Rack, then receives him into favour; but Machiavelli brood's his Revenge, and not finding th' occasion, procures his own Death, by a Dose unseasonably taken.   

The Contents of the Sixth Book.  
ERasmus th' ginger, and Ficino the Philosopher, Prognostic are that Cirdal Medici should be Pope, tho' not any appearance of it then. He is carried to Rome in a Litter, by reason of an Imposthume he had in a place, th● Modesty forbids mentioning. He enters th●●●clave. The Imposthume breaks and exhales such a stink, that th' Old Cardinals fancied, upon the Relation of bribed Physicians, that he will suddenly die, and so leave off crossing his Election. A Dream of his Mother, which he remembers of himself, makes him take the Name of Leo. He repairs his Cousin Giulio's defect of Birth, and gives him his Cap. Massimiliano Sforza falls distracted, and puts it into Leo's Head, to make his Brother Giuliano Duke of Milan; but is deluded by Fregossa, who accomodates himself with the French, Giuliano dies, young Lorenzo succeeds him, and does not resemble him. The French pass the Alps. The Pope's afraid, and sends them an Agent, who falls into the hands of the Spaniards, and makes 'em jealous. The Pope stops the Progresses of the Conquerors, by his interview with Francis the First, at Bologna, where he paulmes upon the sincerity of that Prince. He despoils the Duke of Urbino, who recovers his State. The Pope Debauches that Duke's principal Officers, he prevents them, and causes their Soldiers to punish them. Leo, tho' indebted for the Popedom to Cardinal Petrucci, drives his House out of Sienna. The Cardinal Conspires against him, is discovered and strangled in a Dungeon, by an AEthiopian. A strange Conference of Cardinal Cornetan with a Magician, who tells him nothing but the Truth, and yet deludes him. The Sacred College is animated against the Pope, who, out of spite, creates one and thirty Cardinals in one day; but the greatest Enemy of his House happens to be of the number. He frames a League against the French, and, beyond all hopes, drives them out of Italy; but in the very moment he receives the Tidings, Malespina poisons him with Pills▪ The Rats eat off his Nose the Night following, by having but one Servant left with him, who falls asleep.   

The Contents of the Seventh Book.  
EVlogies of the Wits that were honoured with Leo's Friendship, or received Gratuities from him. Which is the best writ History we have, since those of the Ancients. The ginger Tibertus foresees his own Death, and the most extraordinary manner, by which it was to happen, without its being in his Power to avoid it. Cocles, of the same Profession, has the same Destiny, and yet not mistaken in any of the Nativities he had Calculated of his Friends, no, not even in those that were to happen after his Death. Young Strozza ventures to Marry a Miss, kept by the Duke of Ferrara. His Master has him Assassinated. Crimittus dies of a Shivering, occasioned by a Pail of Water thrown upon him by one of his Scholars, out of mere jest. Cardinal Bibiana, being above thirty years older than the Pope, takes measures with Francis the First at Paris, to procure his being Elected Pope, at the first Conclave at Rome. The Pope is informed of the Design, stays him to Dinner, and presents him with a Bit. Bibiana fancies it to be poisoned, and yet dares not dispense himself from swallowing it. He returns home, and takes a Counter-poison, which does not hind● him from breathing his last three hours after. Pompone Gauric vanishes in his travelling along the Po, and is never more heard of, through the Revenge of a Lady, to whom he had presented a Declaration of Love in Verse. Count Baltazar Castiglione, in his Practice, contradicts the Rules he had laid down for a perfect Courtier. He is assured that he will die at Mantova. He carefully avoids going thither▪ but accepts of the Embassy of Spain, not dreaming that Madrid is called Mantova in Latin. There he dies.    

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS.  
IT is a surprising thing, that none of the Authors who have written the History of Florence, have kept themselves within the bounds of Moderation, when they speak of the House of Medicis, before it was raised to the Sovereignty. Those whom either Jealousy or ill-will have animated against that Family, ●ave endeavoured to give it an Original so ●ow, and little answerable to its present Greatness, that it were more advantageous not to be known at all, than after such a manner. Others thought flattery justifiable, in a Subject, which those that wrote before them had handled so Satirically, and have represented the Condition of Old Cosmo de Medici his Ancestors so far above his fellow Citizens, that we should hardly believe they had ever lived as Private Men, if we were not informed so from other Hands.  
Some there were, towards the middle of the last Age, who to make their Court the better with Katherine of Medicis, would have persuaded her she was of French Extraction both by Father and Mother, and that not above three hundred years before, one Julian of Medicis went out of Poictou into Tuscany, with a Troop of Horse, which he carried into the Service of the Commonwealth of Florence.  
For my own part, as I have no other design, than to collect those Truths which other Histories have either purposely, or 〈◊〉 of Ignorance omitted, I cannot choose but say, that the House of Medicis has always been accounted Noble, since Florence purchased its freedom of the Emperor Rodolphus the First; of which their Profession of Merchandise, wherewith they are reproached is a Proof, since all the Florentine Historians agree, that almost all the Gentlemen of their Country were engaged in Commerce, and that the most considerable Families had Factors in the best Towns of Europe.  
It was by these means that Cosmo de Medici, surnamed the Old, came to be much richer than any Prince in Italy of his time: for though some suppose that the famous Balthasar Cossa, who was deposed from the Popedom, discovered to him at his Death where he had hid his Treasure; this good luck might perhaps lay the Foundation of his Fortune, but did not raise it to that height, to which it arrived ten years after, when there was no part of the World, from Persia to Andaluzia, that was not subservient to his Traffic.  
The difference of Religions hindered him not from treating with Infidels; and the constant correspondence he kept with the Turkish Emperors then regnant, caused those Princes to let his Factors settle themselves in the room of those of Genoa, and Venice, whom for Reasons of State they expelled out of the most trading places of Thrace, and the lesser Asia. The Emirs of Babylon, and the Mamalukes of Egypt facilitated his Transportation of the Silks and most precious Commodities of the Mogul's Country, and he made so good a hand of the needy Condition to which the Paleologi, Emperors of Constantinople, were reduced, that they sold him the best part of the Jewels, and splendid Furniture, the remainders of the Luxury of the Justinians, and Porphyrogeniti, at very low rates. In a word, he arrived at that Wealth, and Power, that his Countrymen, though used to the same immoderate gain, grew Jealous of his Greatness.  
The Government of Florence at that time was Popular in appearance; but so tempered, that the Ancient Families, which were the Strozzi, Peruzzi, Barbadori, and Albizzi, bore the principal sway. They were not indeed very well united among themselves, but yet agreed in their obedience to him that was eldest among them, and performed his Commands with as much Zeal as if he had been their Sovereign. Hence it came, that their Head found it so easy to engage them in the ruin of Cosmo de Medici. After they had resolved themselves to destroy him, they assembled the People on the sudden, and told them, Cosmo was the sole author of the misery to which the Republic of Florence was then brought; that it was he who kept Men at work at Lions, and Antwerp, upon those Manufactures which France, Spain, and England were wont to send for out of Tuscany, and who by consequence, under pretence of selling better pennyworths, took the Bread out of his fellow Citizens Mouths, to enrich Strangers; that there was not a Merchant in Florence, let his credit be never so good, whom he did not ruin, by advancing of prodigious Sums beforehand to those that had occasion, and by his crafty buying up of the finest Silks, and best Spices upon the place, and Transporting them at less charge, which made him more considerably a gainer, though he sold at cheaper rates; his Factors affording their Goods for less by one Third than others, which brought them in so much Custom, that all other Warehouses besides their own were shut up.  
There needed no more than thus to touch upon the People's weak side, who were extraordinary covetous, to stir them up against Cosmo de Medici; he was presently ordered to be arrested, and clapped up in Prison, where he was carefully guarded to prevent his escape. His Enemies stopped here, because they had not at first plotted to do him any further mischief, imagining, that by keeping him from acting, they should sufficiently interrupt his Commerce, and establish their own. But when they considered, that no Euripus was more subject to ebb and flow than the inconstant humour of the Florentines, who never continued a week in the same mind, nor were likely to do otherwise now, and that in all events, their chie● Magistrate, whom they call Gonfalonier, changing every two Months, it might very well come to pass, that the People's Votes might fall upon some Friend of Cosmus, who would be sure to set him at Liberty. Upon these and the like reflections, the Prisoners Death was resolved on, and the fittest means to effect it long sought for.  
Some of the Assembly proposed to try him before the People; and undertook to find out Crimes, and Witnesses sufficient to take away his Life. But others, who were more numerous, thought that way of Proceeding would be too tedious; and that while they were about it, some Disturbance or other would infallibly happen in the Town, which would be a Means to let him out of Prison. They resolved therefore to dispatch him as soon as possible; and because Poison was the secretest Means, that was approved of. In order to this, Rodolp Peruzzi, the Head of that Family, and the most Considerable of Cosmus his Enemies, was employed to visit and tamper with Frederig● Malavolti, the Keeper of the Public Prisons, and to engage him not to let Cosm● have any Meat brought him, but what they should send him. Malavolti, in plain terms, was a Man indifferent, neither Good not Bad; and being neither Cosmus his Friend, nor his Enemy, seemed not to decline an Opportunity of making his Fortune, provided it might be so contrived, that he might have more Profit to hope for, than Danger to fear. Perruzzi sounded him a good while before he opened the Business, which he thought not fit to do, till he saw him disposed to receive it calmly. But in doing this, he committed a Fault, which Novious in such Intrigues are very subject to; he spoilt the Business, by betraying too much eagerness to have it succeed. He offered Malavolti so considerable a Sum of Money at first dash, that, though it were not extravagant in respect of the vast Riches of Cosmo's Enemies, yet it easily suggested to him whom it was offered to, that what they asked of him was of mighty importance, since they were so very liberal to obtain it. Upon these grounds he answered Perruzzi in such Terms, as though they were something doubtful, yet made him guests, if he were not gained the first time, the second or third Onset at most would make sure of him. Perruzzi satisfied to have advanced so far, gave the rest of the Conspirators an account of what he had done. But while they were thus preparing the Money and the Poison, Cosmus himself was strangely disturbed in his Thoughts. He was of a penetrating Wit, as usually all the Florentine are; and the perfect knowledge he had o● the Genius and Temper of his Enemies, made him quickly apprehend they would practise upon his Life the very same way on which they had pitched. Upon this Supposition he had not eaten one bit of what had been dressed for him in four days; which long Abstinence so weakened him, who was other wise of a good strong Constitution, that Malavolti, who visited him from time to time was afraid he would starve himself, and so make him lose the Money which was offered him. To prevent this, he went into Cosmo's Chamber, whither he caused his Supper to be brought, tasted the Meat before him and with a cheerful Countenance invited him to take part. After they had eaten, they had some Discourse, in which Cosmo failed not to insinuate to his Host, That though his Enemies were possessed of his Estate, yet he had Treasure still concealed in Florence, enough to enrich any man who durst set him at liberty These Words made so much the more Impression on Malavolti, because he was not ignorant of the common Report, That his Prisoner, for fear of appearing too rich in 〈◊〉 Popular Government, had not yet taken al● the ready Money out of the Ground, which Balthasar Cossa discovered to him at his death. And as weak Minds are always persuaded by those who set upon them last, Malavolti was easily convinced, there was more to be got by Cosmo of Medici, than by Perruzzi, For this Reason he made it his Business now to cheer up his Prisoner; and Cosmo, in Compliment to him, told him, he could the rather wish to be rid of his Melancholy, that he might likewise contribute something of his side to their Entertainment. Malavolti replied, he would soon cure him if he pleased, by bringing Farganaccio to dine with him next day, whose Company was so diverting, that it was impossible to be weary of it. This Farganaccio was a Fellow of very mean Birth, but the pleasantness of his Conversation had gained him a Familiarity with the best Citizens of Florence. He always made one in Designs of Mirth and Pleasure; and though he was of an Humour in some things passionate enough, yet he was for the most part so supple and complaisant; that he never made any Quarrel. He mimickt all sorts of People admirably well; and his Raillery, which he made use of upon all Occasions, never carried him so far as to speak ill of any body. However, this Talon did not gain him that Esteem with People of Quality which he seemed to deserve, because he was quite another Man when he kept company with those of his own Rank: for then 〈◊〉 gave himself all manner of Liberty, and would be drunk with them several days together; which rendered him contemptible to the Best of the Citizens, those especially who had Power in the Election of Magistrates, in whose opinion he passed for a Buffoon, that without great indiscretion was not to be trusted with any thing of Moment. Cosmus of Medicis, who knew him better, thought otherwise of him, distinguishing him from those Gluttonous Bruits, who are so merely to gratify their Appetite, whereas he only indulged himself sometimes, to banish troublesome and afflicting thoughts; and as such, looked upon him not unfit to be employed in so hazardous an Affair; and therefore told Malavolti, he should be glad to be diverted by him next day at noon. Fargenaccio came, and was as facetious as what he could invent, or had learned of that kind, could make him: Cosmo seemed not to be at all moved with it at first, but by degrees gave way, and was so taken with him at last, that Malavolti before he went his ways immediately after Dinner, to dispatch away some Letters in his Closet, and not judging it Civility to leave his Prisoner so soon alone, told him, that he begged his Pardon, because he was going to leave him for a quarter of an hour, but that in recompense, he left him with Farganaccio, whose ●y and jocund humour would afford him a much better entertainment. This wholly jumping with Cosmo's desires, he thanked him for his Courtesy, and as soon as he was gone, accosting Farganaccio, he caressed him, and let him know, that it was in his power to be his Deliverer, and assured him, that he should want neither Money nor Jewels, if he would undertake a Work both so just and glorious.  
Farganaccio would at first have complimented off the Business, waving it with excuses of its not lying in his power, but Cosmo de Medici let him see, that he knew him much better than he imagined. He discoursed him upon the secret Alliance he long had had with Bernardo Guadagni, who was at that time Grand Gonfaloniere, that is to say, the Sovereign Magistrate of Florence. He added, that as Guadagni had already been a Month elected, and that by Consequence he had but one Month more to be in his Office, there was no time to be lost for the saving an honest Man; that his Innocence was so obvious, that his very Enemies were persuaded of it, and that all his pretended Crimes were summed up in his having by lawful means rendered himself the richest Subject in Italy.  
Afterwards he fell to exaggerating the malice of those who designed his Ruin, h● ran over the means they had of bringing 〈◊〉 to pass, and without affording Farganaccio the leisure of making any answer, he concluded his Discourse with slipping into his Hand half a Ring, in order to his carrying 〈◊〉 to the Prior of the Jacobins, who would not sooner see it, but he would give him a hundred Crowns of Gold, which he besought him to accept for the first Present; and a thousand others, which he desired him to present to Guadagni on his behalf.  
I cannot say which most pleased Farganaccio, the Liberality of Cosmo de Mediet, or the extreme confidence he put in him; but this I know, that either the one or other of those two Qualities staggered him so much, that he had already pouched the half Ring and swore secrecy and fidelity to his new Benefactor, when that Malavolti came in to 'em again, and obliged them by his presence to behave 'emselves after a less serious manner.  
They stayed not long together, and Farganaccio took his leave of 'em as soon as he could, under colour of a meeting he had appointed for the Evening, but in effect, to return unto his own House, and there concert what he had to do. He examined all the Motives capable of tying him to keep or di●●●t him from his Word with Cosmo; But 〈◊〉 sin●, the hopes of becoming Rich, made him, fully resolve upon sticking to his Promise. The next Morning at break of Day ●e went to the Monastery of the Jacobins, where he saw the Prior, and leading him insensibly into a by place, he showed him the half Ring, and instantly received the Sum that had been promised him, and that which was to be presented to Guadagni.  
Then he marched directly to the Gonfaloni●re's Palace, and though the Porter let him know his Lord was still asleep, yet he went into his Chamber, a long familiarity having acquired him that Privilege. He waited till Guadagni was awake, and the first thing he did after having Goodmorrowed him, was telling over before his Face the Charming Crowns of Gold which he brought. Guadagni surprised at this novelty, asked him, who had made him so Rich; and Farganaccio reparteed, that he was only his Treasurer. And thereupon, putting on his Gravity, he told the Gonfaloniere his Days before adventure, without the least Disguise. He was allowed a more favourable hearing than he expected: For though Guadagni was none of Cosmo's Friends, yet neither was he his Enemy, and as he had never had any difference with him, he waved entering into the League that ●●formed for his Ruin.  
This Consideration joined to the Iust●●ces of Farganaccio, and the glory of fre●● out of danger an innocent Person of Cosmo de Medici's Merit, who was capable of acknowledging most magnificently the Services th●● were done him, made him accept the thousand Crowns, and engaged him by consequence to set all Hands at work for his Deliverance He wisely foresaw, that in case he gave 〈◊〉 lest time to the Prisoner's Adversaries, the● would press Malavolti to poison him; a●● that if Malavolti persisted to fence off th● Undertaking, they had sufficient Credit 〈◊〉 Florence to raise a dangerous Sedition, by engaging all the Mobile of their Dependency 〈◊〉 take Arms, and by leading 'em directly 〈◊〉 the Prisons; which it would be easy for the●● to force, and there massacre Cosmo, aft●● the Magistrate could use any Prevention Wherefore this Stroke was to be parry 〈◊〉 off by a subtle Counter-stratagem. He pretended to lend an Ear to those that sollicted him to declare himself against Cosmo de Medici, and persuaded 'em so cunningly th●● he was as keen as they upon this Prisoner that they fancied, they had drawn him in●● their Enterprise.  
Of this an Account was given in their Assembly, where Malavolti's I resolutions ●eing balanced with the new Face the As●●● took, by Guadagni's pretended Declaration, they changed the Resolution of poy●●ning Cosmo, and renewed that which had been rejected, of ruining him by Form of Law. Guadagni desiring nothing more than the having reduced them to this Point, took upon him to favour 'em in all that should depend on the Magistracy. The indictment was drawn up by the Subalternate Judges, and carried afterwards to the Council of Eight, where Matters of State are examined. Cosmo de Medici was there accused of having plotted against the Liberty of his Country; long Hear were given to the Delatores and Evidences: the Witnesses deposed, and were confronted; and in few days the Affair was in that posture, as cast Cosmo into a strange uncertainty of his Life, notwithstanding that his Conscience reproached him not in the least, and from time to time he received from Farganaccio secret Advices of his having nothing to fear. Guadagni hastened the Proceed as much as possibly he could, and Cosmo de Medici his Enemies contributed thereunto with all their might, as being prepossessed with an Opinion, that it was their Interest so to do. Nevertheless, in this they were deluded, and Guadagni the more cleaverly bubbled thei● Credulity: for having adjusted his ●●●rigues in the Council of Eight, and secu●●● a number of Suffrages sufficient to example the Defendant from Death, he caused the Process to be summed up two days sooner than was expected by the Enemies of Cosmo and he himself pronounced a Sentence which deserves the being warily examined seeing it has no Circumstances but what are very Curious.  
He had judiciously foreseen; that in ca●● the Prisoner was absolved, he would be almost in as great danger as if he had been condemned to Death, because his Enemies were daily making Parties to assassinate him; and this was the Reason which hindered him from declaring him Innocent. Neither was he ignorant, that it was the making him run the same hazard, to impose upon him any other sort of Punishment than that of Exile, by reason of the Power of his Adversaries throughout all the Territory of Florence. and this it was that brassed him for Banishment. He was convinced that if he waited for the Day appointed for the Sentence; Cosmo's Enemies would appear there with an Equipage capable of doing Violence to the Magistrates, and so have executed with their own Hands what should have been wanting to the Rigour of the Sentence; and this made him anticipate it. In fine, He knew, that at least without going himself, with all the Officers of Justice, to free Cosmo de Medici out of Prison, and conduct him to the very Territories of another Sovereign, those who aimed at his Life would be soon enough on Horseback to snap or kid-nap him upon the Ways; and this made him put that express Clause in the Sentence, under pretext that Cosmo de Medici his Friends were sufficiently powerful to rescue him from the Rigour of Justice. Thus he Ordained, That Cosmo should be forthwith banished for ever from the City and State of Florence; and that the Magistrate should go incessantly and fetch him out of Prison, and conduct him till the full Execution of the Sentence.  
This was accordingly executed with that Dispatch, as startled the most vigilant of Cosmo his Friends, and his very Enemies too. The Prisoner knew nothing of the Sentence, but by the signification that was made to him thereof, though he had scouting abroad a great number of trusty Spies; and the Keeper Malavolti, was much amazed to see he was robbed of his Prisoner, and deprived at the same time of all the advantages he might have reaped from a longer Custody. But Cosmo de Medici, his Enemies fell into an extreme Consternation, when they learned all at a clap, that he had been tried, put out of Prison, and conducted to the Frontiers.  
This News breaking all their Measures, made such an operation in their Minds, as was extremely propitious to their Enemy: For they left off pursuing him until they had anew consulted among themselves in what manner to prosecute their aims; and this little Truce gave Cosmo de Medici timeto draw from Florence, and the Parts adjacent, the better par● of the Effects he had there lying concealed.  
All their fury was bend against Guadagni, and his Posterity still smarts at this day, for the Losses they made him suffer, tho' Caterina de Medici, being become Queen o● France, transplanted it into that Kingdom, and it lately Commanded the Armie● of the French Monarch in Africa. They ruin'd his Commerce, they discredited him among Strangers, and with the very same People that adored him afore, they so perplexed his Magistracy, that it was more burdensome to him than useful, and their rag● proceeded so far, as to endeavour the exciting a Sedition, in order to the depos●● him before the expiration of the time appointed for his remaining Gonfaloniere. But 〈◊〉 the thought of this only whirled the youngest Heads among the Faction, it w●●● not approved by the old Blades, and they left Guadagni to finish out the Month ordained by the Laws.  
However for all this, he came not off at a cheaper rate; for no sooner was he reentered into a private Condition, than that he fell under the Prosecution of the Law. He was summoned to give a severe account of his Administration; his most innocent Actions were rendered Criminal, and he compelled to undergo the same Punishment he had imposed on Cosmo de Medici. Some probability there is, that they would have pushed on farther their Attacks, if those who demanded his Life, had not found two invincible Obstacles to their Design; the one from the Relations Guadagni had on his side, who upheld him too powerfully with the new Gonfaloniere, and the other from the Nobility, who did not consent but with regret to the Exile of their ancient Magistrate, and declared openly, that if any thing more was expected from them, they would take up Arms, and disunite themselves from the Commons. Guadagni being expelled his Country, retired to Cosmo de Medici at Venice, where they both jointly endeavoured to procure their Re establishment. This was not so difficult a matter for ●●her of them to compass in a juncture, when their Interests were joined, as if they had been separated, because the mutual Friends they had at Florence, having had the leisure to know, and put an entire Confidence in each other, took more fitting measures for that purpose, and caused Letters in cipher to be delivered, ever and anon to the Exiles, by which they gave 'em to understand, that they needed only prescribe to them the Method that was to be followed in the pursuit of their Repeal.  
Guadagni, Whose humour was more sincere, but more impatient too than that of Cosmo de Medici, would have had it gone about immediately, and that by the wont ways. But Cosmo de Medici, who better understood the Genius of the Florentines, to be brought over, and the obstinacy of the Persons that made Head against 'em, wa● of Opinion to take a much longer Circuit. He proposed that his Friends should assemble with those of Guadagni, that they should pitch upon the Person of 'em all mos● proper to manage the Affair in hand, an● adjust their Intrigues for the choosing a Gonfaloniere, and then start and fall to urging he Repeal. This Expedient was at leng●● judged the most healing by Guadagni himself, who gave way, and writ in Consequence to those of his Faction. They appointed the Rendezvous to Cosmo de Medici his Friends in the Monastery de la Reparata. They agreed upon the necessity of procuring a Supreme Magistrate to be chosen that was of their own Body. They Examined in order the fittest Persons for that Dignity, and concluded at last upon the Person of Nicolo Cocco, a Friend of Guadagni's. They Cabaled for the Suffrages the two ensuing Months in his favour; and as he was equally beloved by the Nobility and the People, they found no great trouble in obtaining them. Not but that Cosmo de Medici his Enemies did oppose the Election, when he was put into Nomination; but they perceived it so late, that they had not the leisure either to Concert among themselves, or put in practice the Artifices necessary to elude it.  
Thus was Cocco Elected Gonfaloniere, and did not frustrate the hopes which the Exiles had conceived of his Fidelity. By little and little, he accustomed the Florentines to hear them named in Public Assemblies, and in good part to hear them mentioned. Then fell he to offer things in their justification, and succeeded immediately in what regarded the Person of Guadagni: For as Farganaccio had acted his part so cunningly, 〈◊〉 that the World had not had the least suspicion of his Intrigue, those very Persons who had most contributed to Guadagni's Banishment, did not reckon him culpable of aught else, than the being hurried o● by an excess of Zeal to free out of Prison a Man he thought Innocent; besides that, they were persuaded, that by slackening in the Person of Guadagni, they should be the less suspected of Envy and Partiality, when they should come to struggle against the Repeal of Cosmo de Medici, which was to them of much other Importance.  
But an accident they had not foreseen, surprised in this point the Delicacy of their Reasoning: For in a short time after Guadagni's return to Florence, Cosmo de Medici, who tried all possible ways for his being recalled, bethought himself to settle at Venice the Centre and Staple of his Commerce, and there have the Manufactures wrought, which were afore so done by hi● Orders in the City and Territory of Florence. From hence ensued two notable Inconveniences to the Florentines; the one that as there are Connexion's and Dependencies in point of Traffic, which are only well known by those that meddle tha● way, the Commerce of Cosmo de Medici coming to change its Principal Place, made a Cessation to that of the Principal Merchants of Florence, or at least weakened it in such manner, that these public Complaints were daily heard to ring, Que Personne ne gaignoit plus rien, That trading now quite Dead. The other Inconvenience was, that the common People losing the certain occasion of daily getting Money by working the Manufactory, and not finding any body that employed 'em in other Works, there was all of a sudden such a strange Revolution made in People's Minds, that the recalling of Cosmo de Medici was wished for by all the Corporations which composed the Republic, with so much eagerness, that his Enemies durst not traverse it any longer.  
Thus Cocco had nought else to do, than to put this Repeal into Deliberation, and cast up the Suffrages of those who were to ordain it. Cosmo de Medici thanked the Senate of Venice for the Protection they had afforded him, and returned to Florence with Acclamations that already distinguished him from private Persons. He received Visits from all the Orders, and honest Malavolti failed not to crowd in with those who went to Congratulate his Return. Cosmo received him with very particular Caresses, and Malavolti, whether he expected some reward, or out of an itch usual in Old Men, he would derive a vanity from what he had waved doing, he chanced to bolt out to Cosmo de Medici, that he was more obliged to him than he imagined. Cosmo not understanding the ambiguous sense of these Words; answered him very civilly, that he was sensible he had favoured him with all imaginable Obligations,; and Malavolti replied with some emotion, but you do not think you are indebted to me for your Life. Cosmo then perceived that Malavolti had a grudging to inform him of a thing to which he was till then a stranger, but as he was no● in a place fitting to receive an Illustration of this nature, he pretended not to have smelled out any thing new, and rested satisfied with telling Malavolti, that he knew himself eternally his Debtor. Then he turned to other Persons of Quality, who came to Compliment him on the occasion and there the Conversation fell. But as soon as Cosmo de Medici had got rid of his Visits, he went to pay a private one to Malavolti, when putting him again on the Discourse, which he said they had been constrained to interrupt, by reason of there being too many Witnesses, he put him so many Questions, and led him through so many turn and mazes of pumping, that the honest Man, after having spent all his put offs and shift, was at length reduced to confess, that Perruzzi had been several times to solicit him, and had offered him a considerable sum to dispose him not to give his Prisoner any other Food than what he should cause to be prepared for him. Upon this Information Cosmo de Medici made his Addresses and Complaints to the Gonfaloniere, upon which an Order was issued out for the taking Perruzzi into Custody.  
The Barrigel of Florence seized the Person of Perruzzi, who outfaced the Examination, but not his Confrontation with Malavolti. He owned the Fact, and then seeing they were going to put him upon the Rack, he discovered all the secret of the Conspiracy against Cosmo de Medici. Nicolo Albizzi, and Palla Strozzi, were taken up upon his Deposition, being the Heads of three Illustrious Families of the same Name. The Council of Eight tried the Cause, and it was passed all Question, that the Suffrages of the Judges were leaning to Death, when that Cosmo de Medici making a serious Reflection upon his own Interests, resolved and perceived, that if he persevered to have the Death of so many Persons of Quality, he should incur an immortal hatred, and would make so many his Enemies, that it woul● be impossible for him to live at Florence thenceforward without Guards, which could not be granted him in a Republic without Magistracy, which however he had proposed to himself never to accept: Whereas if he contented himself with causing 'em to be punished in a perpetual Banishment, on the one side he delivered himself from the only Persons from whom he need to fear a second staggering of his Fortune, and on the other, he did not push any o● his Enemies into despair. On the contrary, he reconciled himself with those wh● had Souls so Noble, as to be touched wi●● an Heroic Act of Gallantry.  
This it was which made him take ne● measures with his Friends, and solicit fo● those whose Ruin he had vowed. The Judge● willingly acquiesced in the Request he mad● 'em, there being very little of any other bodies Interests than his own in this Affair▪ and besides, they did not without Reluctance go about to make so great an Example in a Popular State. Thus the Criminals came off with a perpetual Exile after they had been made sensible they would not have been treated with so muc● Clemency, if they had not found in th● Heart of him they had offended Sentments contrary to the severity of the Laws.  
Cosmo de Medici having rid himself of his inemies under so plausible a Pretext, had hardly ought else to do, than to reap the fruit which his Fortune had produced him. All those who pretended to the Magistracy were not satisfied with Courting his friendship, they affected such a Dependency on his Will, that there was now nothing done of moment without having consulted Cosmo. The House he caused to be built, not very Stately indeed, but very Spacious and Convenient, was the secret Place where the Resolutions were brooded, that were afterwards to be hatched in the Council of Eight; and here it was that they concluded to humble the Pride of the Pistoians, who had made an Insurrection, with a general Destruction of their Houses, and they examined a way to reduce by mildness the Pisans, who afterwards fell into the same fault, that they might balk the Neighbouring Potentates of a Pretext to intervene and meddle in those Matters.  
Yet this was done with so little Noise and Pomp, that the People of Florence, tho' extraordinany Jealous of their Freedom, did not conceive any Umbrage upon these Motions, because that Cosmo de Medici was become more circumspect by his own Experience, and lived after a manner as was in nothing different from that of mean Citizens. He had openly declared that he woul● not aspire to any Magistracy, nor woul● he accept any in case it was offered him and he held so firm upon this Article, that after having himself quashed divers Cabals in his Favour, he obtained the●● should be no more talk of him in Elections. However he failed not to appear an● act efficaciously in Public Assemblies, b●● it was ever after a disinteressed manner i● appearance, and only to support Merit when it was known, or for the man●festing it when it was not. Otherwise 〈◊〉 was seen to walk alone, and on foot in th● Streets. His  were plain, and 〈◊〉 modest his Table, that there were no other Provisions spent than what his Country House of Mugello furnished. He had not on useless Domestic, or what served fo● State and Ornament; each had his sever● Employment, and meddled not with wha● others did.  
It did not appear that Cosmo de Medic● had any other Application than Merchandise, and as he had admirable success, a● he was still introducing some Florentine by turns into the Society of his Trade and Gain, the more he got, the more was he blessed in the Town; so far were they from entertaining any jealousy on that account, tho' his Gains were great and frequent: For he perhaps was the only man to whom all those who have trade with him have given this Testimony, that in so long a Life as was his, and during fifty four years of continual traffic and sorts of things, in all the noted Marts of the known World, he had ever had the happiness of never suffering any loss, and of never losing any opportunity of gaining.  
Not but that he expended much, and even more than was suitable to a private Person in the Alms he distributed, and in the Edifices of Piety which he caused to be built: But the People, as I have already observed, were so prepossessed with the thought that it was only with the Money of Balthasar Cossa, and for the Executing the secret Orders which that degraded Pope had left him, that what matter tho' they saw him found Hospitals, re-establish Monasteries desolated by the Faction of the Guelphs, and build new ones, they commended Cosmo de Medici his Piety, and did not penetrate farther into the bottom of his heart. He lived at this rate unto an extreme old Age, without suffering any inconveniences, and died in the Arms of his Friends. He was interred 〈◊〉 the Church of St. Lorenzo which he himself had built, where the Public erecte● him a kind of Mausoleum, in the Frontispie● of which there was written in Latin, Cosmus Medicis situs est decreto publico Pater P●triae. By order of the Commonwealth, here lie Cosmo de Medici, surnamed the Father of 〈◊〉 Country.  
He left a Son called Piero, who h●● but one of his Father's good qualities, namely that of husbanding his Estate. He had ne●ther the Will to acquire any, nor a Soul ●●pable of Public Affairs. It was too much wound up in itself, and in his Domestic● Matters, as if Nature had given it no vast● Extent. Not that any thing had been neglected as might serve to enlarge it, an● make it take a much higher flight: For the famous Poggio having charged himself with his Education, had given him the Precepts of the Greek and Latin Tongue, he had endeavoured to render him a Philosopher, b●● seeing his understanding was not capable 〈◊〉 serious matters, he humbled the Majesty of his stile, even to the Composing Books of Stories at leisure hours.  
He did not stick to mingle therein, an infinite number of unbeseeming circumstance as knowing very well this to be the last ●●cret for the dissipating the numbness and stupefaction of his Scholar. Nevertheless Pie●● de Medici continued still in his Primitive ●●lness. He had only comprehended things of his own reach, and tho' he wanted neither Curiosity nor Application to the most subsume, he never could attain 'em. In a word, he seemed only to be born for the renewing in his time and Commonwealth the example of old Cato's Son, whom the Romans made use of, to show the great difference there was commonly between Great Men and the Children they left behind 'em. And indeed Piero de Medici not only wanted the Virtues of his Father, but besides he had neither his Father's good Mien nor vigorof Body. The Gout which had begun to torment him at fifteen years of age, had almost robbed him of the use of hands and feet, and reduced him to budge no otherwise from home, than by being carried in a Litter to Mugello.  
His Father had plainly foreseen that these natural infirmities would undermine all the Foundations of the greatness of his Family, and fell about remedying them by all the ways his Policy could suggest: For at home he had acquired Friends in all the Orders of the Republic, and had engaged those Friends to maintain him by an intercourse of Interests, which could neither be more close or more necessary. He had Culled out some among 'em to serve him for Counsel, and others he appointed for the Execution of what should be undertaken most nice or bold, according to the Diversity of their Genius and Profession. Abroad he had made alliance with two of the greatest Potentates that were then in Italy, namely Ferrand of Arragon, King of Naples, and Galeazzo Sforza Duke of Milan. And as it was certain, that Italy in general had nothing to fear, as long as those two Princes should act in unanimity and Conjunction, it was no less indubitable, that the State of Florence in particular would not suffer any alteration, as long as they wou●● maintain by their Authority the Government that was there established.  
Yet notwithstanding all these Precautions Cosmo de Medici had no sooner his Eyes closed but there arose in Florence against his So a Faction more formidable without Comparison, than had been that of Petruzzi. It 〈◊〉 not well known who began it, but the Pi●●ti's were one of the most Illustrious House of Florence, and the most knowing kne● not of any more Ancient; they only yielded in Riches to that of Medici, and 〈◊〉 jealousy they had of it, proceeded from th●● bating that sort of Goods which Chance, Industry, or Wariness bring, they exceeded it in all those which come fromm Birth and Virtue. They were three Brothers, and seven Cousin-germen of the same Name, who had all mingled the Profession of Arms with the Study of Polite Learning: And as the Works in Verse and Prose, which still remain of their Composure, are authentic Proofs of the Beauty of their Genii; the History of the Civil War, that ruffled the Kingdom of Naples under Ferrand the Old, giveth so advantageous an Account of their Valour, that there's no room for wonder, that they could not without some uneasiness endure to see preferred before 'em in the Administration of Public Affairs, such a Man as Piero de Medici, whose Father perked up only out of the Order of bare Gentlemen, that was almost the only one of his Name, and who had not for his own part neither a Wit strong enough to give Counsels to the Republic, nor Feet in a condition to go where the Service of his Country might call him, nor Arms ●●gorous enough to defend it against its Enemy's.  
This was what made the Pitti's proceed ●●om the Aversion of the Medici, and the Contempt of Piero's Person, to the Des gn 〈◊〉 dispatching him cut of the World. It was impossible to bring this about by any other way than that of Assassination; and the Measures to that purpose were nicked for the time he should return from his Countryhouse, whither he had caused himself to be carried, for the enjoying the Delights of the Fair Season, whose use was not obstructed by his Infirmities. His House at Florence was situated at the bottom of the Town near a Gate, which was seized on by the Conspirators, there to do the Feat. Afterward they were to have put Piero de Medici's Hea●upon the top of a Pike, to carry it along the Streets, and cry Liberty; to assemble those of their Faction, and lead 'em directly to the Townhouse, convening the People, and causing the Magistrates to be deposed, and others put in their room, wh● should banish all those of the House of Medici that were suspected by them, and woul● give them the Confiscation of the Riche● they had scraped together.  
Spies were sent to scout abroad, to discover the Hour and Day of Piero de Medici Return; and to a Minute was it known The Ruffians took their Post, and Piero who was in a Litter, followed only by tw● of his Servants, was going to stumble into their Hands, when out of a mere Whim, 〈◊〉 secret Foreknowledge of the Danger th● threatened him, the fancy took him, before he went to his own Home, to call in at the House of a Friend of his, Lanti by ●ame, who dwelled just at the Top, that is, ●t the other end of the City, without other Design however than to surprise him with an unexpected Visit, and with him chat away some Hours. Wherefore, thither he went, and found Lanti, who would needs make him stay and sup with him, and sent him away so well accompanied, because it was Night, that there was now no means of acting any Insult upon him.  
The Assassinates, who expected him out of the Gates of the Town, near his own House, under colour of Breathing and Exercising their Horses, seeing the Night come, bandoned their Posts, and returned into the City, slipping under the Avenues of Piero de Medici's House: But as there were several, and that by consequence they must divide themselves to keep 'em, Piero de Medici returning home, found only three or four Armed Men, that knew him well enough, but let him pass without saying any thing to him, because they saw him in too good a Posture to be attacked. They took their Companions from their several Stations of ●entinel, and withdrew to the Rendezvous, there it was resolved, that they should instantly return into Romagna, from whence the Pitti's had sent for 'em, except one of their Company, whom they left at Florence, to receive the Money that had been promised 'em. There was a long Contest upon this Payment, because the Deputy of the Ruffians pretended to receive the full Sum which his Accomplices had agreed upon for the committing the Murder; and his Reason was, That it was none of their fault, that it was not done; that they had done their endeavour to execute it; that they had ran the risk of being taken; and that as the fault lay wholly at the Pitti's door, that had not rightly laid their Plot, it was not just that those who had not contributed any thing to their Fault, should have the less Reward. The Pitti's, on the contrary maintained, That the Blow not having missed by any Cowardice or Negligence, which they could be reproached with, but through a mere Caprice of Fortune, that had robbed 'em of the Victim just upon the point it wa● to have been sacrificed, they could only be taxed half the Sum they had promised. They offered however to pay it all, nay, to consign it into a third Hand, in case they would engage the Performance of the Attempt a● some other time. The Deputy replied, Tha● his Companions did not refuse re-engaging in the same Design; but to that end another Treaty was to be made, to which he had no Orders to give ear, until they had been fully satisfied touching the former. The Conversation hereupon fermented; but as the Match was not equal, the Deputy, being a cunning Fellow, feared lest the Pitti's, whose Power he knew in Florence, might have him clapped up, and perhaps procure something worse to befall him, to deliver themselves at one bout from his Importunities.  
And indeed he had engaged himself in a very ticklish Business; but he had the Address to get out of it. He pretended to grow more tractable by degrees, and to espouse the Pitti's Sentiments: He only demanded of 'em time to confer Notes with his Companions, for the disposing 'em to a new Project. The Pitti's let him go with so much the more ease, as that they were persuaded, that in a few days he would be glad to come back with his Companions, to earn the Money he then refused. But in stead of going out of Town, he went directly to the House of a Man of his Acquaintance, who frequented Piero de Medici, and desired him to go tell him, That if he would obtain his Pardon, and give him the Recompense which the Republic had decreed to those who should discover Conspiracies against the State, he would reveal to him one of great Importance, and wherein hi● Person was concerned.  
Piero de Medici thought this Offer wa● not to be slighted, because he was already well informed, that there had appeared th● day before in his Quarters a considerable number of Armed Horsemen, besides having himself seen his House invested. He assembled his Friends, who advised him to grant still more than was asked him. The Remission was dispatched in secret to the Russians Deputy, who received beforehand the Su● ordained for Delatores. They let him take all the Precautions that the Diffidence natural to those sort of Wretches inspired him with, and then were informed of all the Circumstances of the Pitti's Project, who were seized, and confronted. They endeavoured to egg on the Magistrates to the utmost Rigour against 'em; but the fear lest their Punishment might excite a Sedition among the Common People, who adored them, prevailed over the Quality of their Crime, and over the Solicitations of all the Florentines wedded to the Interests of the House of Medici. Nothing availed thei● remonstrating to the Magistrates by studied Speeches, That this was not the first of Crimes the Pitti's had attempted, and that they had long since meditated one of the most enormous, which was to plot against the Liberty of their Country; That there needed no other Proof of this, than the House they had built in the most eminent Part of the Town, since it had rather the Figure of a Regular Fortress, than a Retreat for bare Citizens. This only produced a Decree, That the House should be razed, and its Inhabitants banished for ever out of the State of Florence, without hopes of their Posterities ever returning thither. This Sentence, thus moderated, wrought the Effect which commonly attends things of this nature; I mean, it inflamed the Malady, whereas it ought to have cured it. It galled the Pitti's in the most sensible Part, which was that of Honour, to blast them for having conspired against their Country, and yet only imposed on them the slightest of Punishments, which so Criminal an Attempt did deserve. It expelled 'em from their House, and constrained 'em to lead thenceforward a Vagabond-Life, and yet did not retrench 'em of any of the Conveniencies they had of returning thither by Force of Arms. In a word, it unchained the Lions, and let lose the Wild Boars, without having disarmed 'em of their Paws, their Tusks and Defences.  
Thus the Magistrature of Florence was not long before they perceived the Blunde● wherein their false Clemency had engaged it: But it was now too late to be remedied▪ for the Pitti's having caused all their Effect▪ to be transported to Venice, retired thither with a numerous Train of all the Orders of Florence, that would not abandon them in their Disgrace. They were joined upon the way by the Peruzzi, the Barbadori, the Strozzi, the Albizzi, and others whom the Conspiracy framed against Cosmo de Medici had plunged and abandoned into the like Misfortune. So many Illustrious Unfortunates together, composed such a Troop as was not to be slighted, because it had been augmented by the most Valiant Men of Tuscany, upon a Rumour which the Pitti's had cunningly caused to be whispered about, That they were not punished so much for their own Crimes, as for that of their Fathers. 'Twas well known in Italy, that their Ancestors had ever favoured in private the Party of the Guelphs, though the Florentine State had openly declared for that of the Gibellins. And as there was none in Tuscany that durst put themselves at the Head of that Faction, since the last Wound Castracani had given it, those that were of it had not any fixed abode, but spent their Life in the continual Exercise of Arms and Robbery, that they might be in the better Posture to defend it against the Gibellins, who without mercy stripped ●●m of all when they fell into their Hands.  
These People had no sooner notice of the Pitti's Exile, but they became persuaded, that it was for the Common Cause; and what fully confirmed them in this Opinion, was, that they saw 'em retire towards Venice: For as that Republic had ever been constant to the Party of the Guelphs, they did not doubt but that they were going to re-establish 'em, and took the same Road, that they might go and join themselves to their pretended Deliverers.  
But the Venetian Senate had quite different Thoughts, on so favourable a Conjuncture which Fortune presented it. They had already for some Years been distasted with their old Policy, which consisted in aggrandizing their selves Seaward; whether they had been palled by the Obstacles they had met with from the Genoeses in the Prosecution of that Design, or that they already despaired of maintaining to themselves the Dominion of the Adriatic Gulf, against such formidable Adversaries as the Ottomans; or that, in fine, they were possessed with those Desires of Inconstancy in point of Government, with which Commonwealths are agitated no less violently than Monarchies, tho' not so often.  
They had bend their Designs towards the Terra Firma, and imagined that the Conquest of Italy would not be impossible for 'em to effect, by attacking it the same ways the Romans had formerly done, so to render themselves Masters of it: I mean, by falling in with, and fomenting the Divisions which they found among the Italians; whereas heretofore they were the first to extinguish them.  
I know this Design was unjust, as the Tyrannic Rigours which they used to execute it, 
Paulus Jovius, Guichardini, Albertus, and Mongino.  did afterwards evince. But methinks the Historians of Italy speak thereof with too much tartness, when they term it Chimerical: For after all, the Venetian were then in a better Posture, than the Romans were when they undertook it. They were absolute Masters of their Gulf, and none, no not so much as the Emperor and King of Naples, durst cross it without their leave. The Isle of Candie, which they possessed entirely, was its Key on the side of the Levant, which was the most dangerous: and Fortune, to screen 'em the better from the Enterprises of the Infidels, had newly given 'em the famous Kingdom of Cyprus, which they had hooked in by Intrigues that would furnish ample Matter to Anecdota, if there was any Pen bold enough to dare to undertake it. They were no less Potent on the Terra Firma, since that besides the better part of Friuli, Istria, and Dalmatia, and the most delicious Territory of Lombardy, which they held, they had set footing in the Kingdom of Naples, by the means of some Maritime Places, which King Ferrand had been constrained to pawn to 'em, for the carrying on the Civil War against his Nobless. They had got near Ferrara, through the Polerain of Rovigo: They had purchased the strongest Places of Romagna, by whose means they Check-mated the puny Tyrants that possessed the rest of that little Province: They had thrown the Marquis of Mantova into a blind Dependency on their Wills; and the Republic of Genova no longer defended itself against 'em with the same vigour as before, being the Seditions under which it laboured, had constrained it to seek out a Foreign Protection. The Duke of Milan could not preserve the Sovereignty his Father had acquired, but by persevering in their Alliance; and if the Duke of Savoy had nothing to fear directly from 'em, his Territories were not out of the Irruption of the Troops which they had permission to levy in the nearest Cantons of Suisserland, and among the Grisons.  
There only remained the Republics of Florence, Sienna, and Lucca, whither the Venetians had no admission; and as they expected to get Access thither by the means of the Pitti's, who courted their Protection, they easily granted it, in hopes the Civil War that was going to kindle in Tuscany would beget 'em an Occasion to seize on Pisa, or some other Place on the Tyrrhene Sea, from whence, by the number of Shipping, which they had much greater than any other State in Europe, it would be easy for 'em to ruin the Commerce of Genova, and make themselves Masters of that which France, Spain, and the Low-Countries drove upon the Mediterranean Sea.  
Upon this consideration they received the Pitti's after a more magnificent Aspect than they were wont to receive other Criminals; & though the Pretext of their Entertainment was to exert some sort of Acknowledgement to a Family that had obliged 'em with so many Colonels and Lieutenant-Generals of their Armies, those however who pretended to dive farther into the Policy of the Senate, did affirm, That there was Mystery in this Reception, and the Consideration of the past, was not the only reason for this Carriage.  
Be it as it will, the Pitti's were defrayed at Venice at the Public Cost, until they had settled themselves to all intents; and though nothing positive was said to them, to confirm 'em in the Resolution they had taken, of carrying the War into the Centre of their Country; yet not any of the indirect ways were neglected, that could contribute to this Design. They were given to understand, by Emissaries set privately to work, That the Senate had lived in Peace for several years with the State of Florence, wherewith it had moreover contracted an Alliance, which it could not break, without losing the Reputation it had acquired of Probity, and without exciting a general Scandal, by so manifest a Violation of the Right of Nations; That this Alliance did indeed mutually engage the two Republics not to give any Assistance to their Enemies, and not to meddle (in any manner) with the re-establishment of those they had banished; but that it did not deprive the Senate of the Freedom that was natural to it to dispose of its Troops; That it had on foot the bravest and best-disciplined Army in Christendom; and that it had moreover got into its Service, by an excessive Pension, that famous General Bartholomi Coglione, with whom, since the Death of Francisco Sforza, not one Person disputed the Quality of the Greatest Captain in Europe; That though the Senate had all the Reasons in the World to be satisfied with his Services, there was not, however, any inconvenience in retrenching him of his Pension, under colour of the profound Peace the Republic then enjoyed both by Sea and Land, or to diminish it in such manner, as that the General should not be contented with what remained; That in either of those two Cases, he might handsomely leave the Service, and close with the Party that should be more advantageous to him; That the same Pretext would serve for the dismissing the better part of the Venetian Army, and that they might treat beforehand with the Officers of the Troops which they designed 'em, and List them against the time they should be Cashiered.  
The Pitti's took the hint of what they meant, and being assembled with the Principal of the Guelphs, they agreed, That the Expedient which had been newly suggested unto them, was in effect the most capable of re-establishing 'em in their Country; because that as the Republic of Venice was then the richest State of Europe, and that it gave its Soldiers larger Pay than was given by any other Christian Potentate, she had ever, by consequence, the best Troops, and maintained herself by this means in the reputatition of succeeding in her Projects. Thus it was resolved, That the Pitti's should lay their Effects in Tribulation, for the finding out ready Money; and that they should cause Coglione, and the other Officers of the Companies that had been marked out to them, to be sounded; and that if he promised to fight under their Colours, with the same Pension, in case they came to be dismissed by the Venetian State, the same Emissaries should be employed to retain 'em.  
This secret Negotiation had all the Success the Pitti's could desire. Coglione having already smelled out the Senate's Design, gave Assurances of his Service, and likewise took upon himself to solicit the Officers that should be Reform. Then the Exiles beseeched the Senate to give 'em some Assistance, but they were positively refused: yet, some time after, the Republic fell to work on the Reformation of its Army. True it is, that it was not until after having by a secret Treaty engaged it in their Interests, under whose Ensign it had newly listed itself. Coglione was degraded, and he took the usual Oath to the Pitti's. The Soldiers that were Cashiered, sided with the same Party their General had chosen; and as there were not then any Wars in Italy, those that had a mind to be instructed in the Trade of Arms, or had no other Profession, flocked from all Parts, to signalise themselves under so brave a Captain. The number of 'em was so great, that there was seen in a short time upon the Frontiers of Romagna and Ferrara the bravest Army that had appeared in Italy since that the House of Anjou had been driven out of the Kingdom of Naples. But the Princes of Italy were too jealous, and too deeply concerned, to forbear taking umbrage at such sudden Warlike Preparations. The Person of Coglione was so well known to 'em, as to guests to what intent he made no scruple of becoming the Pitti's Man, who were only mere Citizens of Florence, after having exercised for twenty years the most Noble and Courted Charge of the Christian Army. They held him for an Adventurer, in whom Fortune seemed to show how whimsical she is. He was born in the Neighbourhood of Bergamo; and his Family had been totally put to the Sword in the Quarrels of the Guelphs and Gibellins. He had begged until eighteen years of age, when that being at Naples, and no body daring to dispute with him the Prize in Wrestling or Running, by reason of his prodigious Strength, and incomparable Agility, Joan the Second, Queen of Naples, who only valued Men for Vigour of Body, had made him her Minion: But he grew quickly weary of that infamous Exercise, and stealing away from Court, he went to perform his Apprenticeship in Martial Affairs under the famous Braccio, and since under Francisco Sforza, with whom he passed through all the Degrees, and then mounted up to the Lieutenant-Generalship, when his Commander made himself Duke of Milan. Afterwards the Venetians enticed him away, to give him the Supreme Command of their Armies; wherein he acquired great Reputation, and so much Riches, that the ready Money, he had scraped together, is said to have amounted to Two hundred thousand Crowns; and this Sum was then so prodigious, that the Italians could by no means imagine that Coglione would have rendered himself the Pitti's Subject, but with design of subduing the State of Florence to the Venetians, or to conquer it for himself, after the Example of him that had taught him his Trade, who had newly raised, upon much weaker Foundations, the most topping Sovereignty in Italy.  
This spread a general Alarm from the Alps unto the Adriatic Sea. The Florentines seeing the Storm ready to pour down upon them, did what they were wont in the most difficult Conjunctures; I mean, they abandoned the Government of their City to Piero ●e Medici's Friends, who had the principal Interest in the Affair. These caused the People to assemble, put them in Arms, drove away all the suspected Persons, and made the Exiles be declared Enemies of the Republic. Afterwards they levied Troops, and put them into such Places of their State as they saw were likely to be first attacked. But as it was not possible to assemble in so short a time an Army powerful enough to keep the Field against that of the Exiles, or to oppose against Coglione a Leader near his Equal in repute, recourse was of necessity to be had to those Powers whose Counterbalance maintained at that time what was free in Italy, namely, the Duke of Milan, and the King of Naples.  
I have already noted, That the last Act of Cosmo de Medici's Life was to acquire to his Son the Alliance of those two Princes. But what had appeared so easy on the Board, and when there needed only promising, became almost impossible in the Performance; so many Obstacles did there arise to cross it. For, on the one side, the King of Naples did indeed consent to grant the Florentines part of the Troops designed for the Defence of his Kingdom; but he would by no means yield that they should act jointly with those of the Duke of Milan, whom he looked on as his Capital Enemy, and forbidden them to have any Communication with them. Nay, he could not so much as endure that they should encamp near one another; and tho' they represented to him, that it would be giving them over to Slaughter, to expose them separated to Coglione's Mercy, who had the repute of being the most vigilant Captain that Italy had produced since Julius Caesar, and to spend whole Night's on Horseback, for the surprising of Quarters; tho' it was very easy for this General to cut them in pieces after one another, if he came to discover that they acted under different Orders: This Peril, how evident soever, did not touch the Mind of the King of Naples after so sensible a manner, as the fear of his Soldiers being debauched by the Duke of Milan, as they had been in the foregoing Conjunctions for the making War upon the Infidels.  
On the other side, the Duke of Milan spoke with great Pomp of the Succours he gave the Florentines. He proposed sending into Tuscany Troops in equal number▪ and better equipage, than the King of Naples. He proceeded further, offering to Head them with Federigo d' Vrbino, whom he kept in his Service, with almost the same Pensions as the Venetians gave Coglione, and who would make War so much the better upon this General, as for that there was a laudable Emulation between them, which engaged them reciprocally to practise all the Stratagems of the Military Art, to surprise, and hinder being surprised. But he pretended before all things, that the King of Naples should be bound not to send any Fleet into the River of Genova, capable of giving any Jealousy to the State of Milan; with which the Neapolitan was the more loath to comply, in that he was extraordinarily provoked against the Genoveses, who had backed the Revolt of his Barons; and besides, it gored him very sensibly, in that he must receive the Law from his Enemy, for the obliging him to defend an Ally.  
In the mean while, the Friends of Piero adjusted these Differences sooner than was expected, and propounded a Temperament which equally fitted the King of Naples and Duke of Milan's turn. They assured the King of Naples, that his Troops should only be employed in the defence of Pisa and its Territory, where they should not be obliged to receive a Companion; which he accepted, and caused them to departed with all expedition, under the Conduct of Galeazzo de St. Severini. Afterwards, they nicked their time so well to attack his weak side, which was Vanity, and represent to him how glorious it would be for him to sacrifice a Desire of Revenge, tho' it was lawful, to the Safety of his Allies; and what a Tarnish, on the contrary, his Reputation would receive, if he hindered the Genoveses to assist the Florentines, in the War he was going to declare against them; that this Prince gave his Word to suspend his Resentment, until the Peace was reestablished in Tuscany. Thus the Duke of Milan having no more Pretext to defer the March of his Auxiliary Troops, and the Friends of Piero having gained him to all intents and purposes, by the Offer they made of giving him the principal Honour of the Defence, by confiding in his Troops the keeping of Florence, he dispatched Federigo d' Vrbino with all diligence, to give order for the fortifying the Suburbs, and caused him to be attended by choice Companies of Horse and Foot, in so splendid an Equipage, that the like had not been seen in Italy since it had been ravaged by Barbarous Nations. Not a Trooper was there, but had his Led-Horse, and his Arms enriched with all that Luxury had then invented most Rare and Curious. The Helmets and Corselets which the Infantry made use of were engraven. They had their Trappings decked with Ciphers and Devices which noted the Amours and principal Adventures of each Foot-Soldier. Their Swords were adorned with Tufts of Gold in Embroidery; and the Guidons and Ensigns displayed all the Fineries of Needlework.  
These Soldiers entered Florence in the posture of Triumphers, rather than of Auxiliaries; and their presence made Coglione change the Design of approaching it. But Piero's Friends seeing them too curled and finical, and too assiduous at Balls, to have a good Opinion of their Prowess, thought there was no trusting so far in their Valour, as not to raise other Troops. They knew that the Ecclesiastic State had ever been a Nursery of Soldiers, and that the two most Illustrious Families of that State, namely, the Colonnesi and Orsini, had accustomed themselves for these three Ages to lead Bodies of Armed Men, into the Service of those who would attack or defend themselves against their Enemies, without further troubling their Heads, whether the Cause of the Party that called them was just, and without examining aught else, than the more or less Pensions that were offered them. They resolved to gain them to their side, and began with that of the Colonnesi, who stood not upon much entreaty to enter into Treaty with them, for two Reasons. The first is, That being wedded to the Fortune of the Kings of Naples, they equally followed the Inclination and Interest of King Ferdinand, by declaring themselves for the Republic of Florence, against that of Venice, because this Prince had proposed to himself, by all manner of means, to obstruct the Greatness of the Venetians; and wished moreover, that it should be published through all Europe, That he it was that maintained the Caim of Italy, by stripping the Ambitious of the Means of aggrandizing themselves at the expense of others. The second Reason was, That the House of the Colonna's had ever been the Mark of the Vengeance of the Popes, since Siccara, one of its most signalised Captains, had surprised Boniface the Eighth in Agnania. This Persecution had made it close with the Party of the Gibellins, and treat as Enemies all those that had declared themselves for the Sovereign Pontiff. Thus it saw itself obliged to act against the Exiles of Florence, since they were supported by the Guelphs; and that besides, it could not doubt, but that the new Pope, who had newly taken the Name of Sixtus the Fourth, would contribute with all his Power to the Ruin of the State of Florence, which served for an Asyle to so many little Tyrants, who had seized upon the best Places of Romagna, and of the Duchy of Spoletto.  
There was more difficulty to book in the House of the Orsini's; for as it was an irreconcilable Enemy of that of the Colonna's, it was sufficient for it to see the Colonnesi engaged in one Party, to go offer immediately their Service to the contrary Side. Yet they made a shift to bring Virginio, the Head of the Family, to a Negotiotian, which he did not get out of as free as he entered. They laid him a Snare which he did not distrust, and proposed to him at first the Marriage of his Daughter, that was but twelve years of Age, with Lorenzo de Medici, who was not yet fifteen. Virginio, tho' the eldest, was not the richest of his House: His Profusions had utterly squandered what was left of the ravaging of his Enemies; and the Debts he had contracted, already surpassed the just Value of his Lands. Thus it was no surprising matter to see him lend an Ear to a Proposition seasoned with all that could sweeten the Inequality. They lent him Money absolutely to clear off all Engagements, and stipulated that he should pay no Interest for ten years. They took his Daughter without any Portion. They assured to his Family, in case of misfortune, a Retreat near the State of the Church: And, what was most advantageous to him in the Issue, tho' he little valued it then, they gave him a Son-in-Law, young indeed, but who already seemed to bespeak himself to be one day the First Man of his Age. The Nuptials were not celebrated with much Pomp, as not befitting the present Juncture: There was, however, a world of Epithalamiums, among which, that of Angelus Politianus, who being but of the Bridegroom's years, made Verses worthy of the age of Augustus, was the best received. In a few days after, the News of Coglione's Approach kidnapped young Lorenzo out of the Arms of his Bride, and made him take Horse, to go learn the Military Art, under the Discipline of his Father-in-Law.  
However the War was not very warm in the beginning, tho' the Troops on both sides were in a state of acting. And those who knew Coglione's impatient and extraordinary active and fiery Humour, could not con●●ive, why, his Army being the strongest, and best martiallized, he trifled away his time in laying waste the open Country, and taking in little Places, in stead of showing himself in Battalia in the sight of Florence, and harassing the Milanese Troops, who seemed already on the point of disbanding, since the Guard of the Suburbs had been committed to them. But they knew not, that Coglione had more than one String to his Bow, and that he would not use Force, till he had spent all the Artifices of his Profession.  
The Florentines never thought of driving all the Exiles Relations out of the City; and whether the number of 'em was too great to be done with safety, or that they d●●●● not in so dangerous a Conjuncture act with all the Severity of the Laws, against Men presumptively innocent, nothing had been said to those that were not suspected of any Intelligence or particular Engagement with their Kinsmen. Yet the War was no sooner felt upon the Frontier, but Changes were perceived among the Populace, that must necessarily be fomented by some Internal and Domestic Enemies. The People complained of Inconveniencies and Grievances they had not yet felt: they began to speak of the Exile's Power, and in their Discourse to multiply the Number of their Soldiers. In▪ word, they even launched out into Assertions, That they had been punished with over much Severity, and that it was but very just that those who thwarted their Repeal, should be at all the Charges of the War.  
Too public were these Rumours not to reach Pier● de Medici's Ear; and as he had too weak and dastardly a Spirit to remedy it he conceived a kind of Sorrow, accompanied with Despair, that put him into a Fever. On the contrary, the Pitti's, who received every moment certain Advices of all Occurrence at Florence, began to flatter themselves with the Hopes of a speedy Re-establishment They ●ent to Coglione, and informed him of the cabals of their own Party and Faction. They ●ld him that the People's Discontent was ●st on the point of breaking our, and that ●ey waited for nothing more than an Occa●ion for so doing, by the approach of the Army.  
Coglione was too complete a Captain to ●iss understanding the Importance of what was told him, and too self-interessed to re●●se a March which in all probability must ●●nder him the Richest Adventurer in Eu●●e: for he promised himself nothing less than the Pillage of Florence, if it continued ●●stinate in its own Defence; or a mighty contribution, the better part of which would ●owd into his Coffers, in case it gave ear to ●ny Accommodation. He did not sufficiently value the Troops of Milan, as to imagine they durst make Head against him; and ●esides, he did not see sufficient Union among ●●e Florentines, nor Dependency between the ●ew Levies and their Leaders, to persuade himself, that they were in a state to hold out 〈◊〉 Siege.  
Nevertheless, as he had not so firm an En●●gement with the Pitti's, though under their Pay, as with the Republic of Venice, that had degraded him, he took some days delay, under colour as if all things were not yet ready in his Army, for its advancing into the very Centre of the Enemy's Country; but indeed to inform the Venetian State of the true Condition and Estate of the City of Florence, and to ask their Permission to draw near it.  
The Letter he writ in Ciphers was examined by the Senate with all imaginable exactness, but not in the sense that Coglione had writ it; for the General had no other Design than to serve those from whom he received his Pay, in a Conjuncture wherein he found his own, as well as they their Advantage: Whereas the Venetians proposed directly to themselves only the Interest of their Republic, and considered that of the Pitti's no farther than as it concurred with their own. They did not judge it advantageous to their Commonweal, for Coglione to advance into the very Face of Florence, because if he became Master of that Town, he would be obliged to leave it at the Pitti's Mercy, who in all probability would not ravish it of its Freedom, so far were they from subjecting it to the Laws of another Republic. And if Coglione was so bold as to declare when he was entered the Town, That he pretended to hold it in the name of the Venetians, besides the horrible Scandal which an Action 〈◊〉 that Nature would cause throughout all ●●rope, it would not be possible for him to ●●p his new Conquest long, in regard the Princes of Italy would immediately take ●mbrage, and endeavour in Concert to re-establish the Florentines in the Freedom they before enjoyed. Which the Venetians would ●e so much the less in a capacity to oppose, as having no place upon the Tuscan Coast, and ●eing easily hindered coming thither by Land, Coglione would have only the vexation to see the Fruit of his Perfidiousness miscarry, and the Venetians the regret of having to no purpose prostituted their Reputation.  
Thus, they thought it fitting to fasten upon some Enterprise of less noise, and of more ●se to succeed: They thought it best to ●●andon the Florentines, amazed with their Civil Division, and in the mean while cause Coglione to march to the Conquest of a Place that might be relieved by Sea after the taking, and revictualled from time to time, without their being forced to pass through mother's Lands. That of Pisa was both the most important of itself, and the most commodious for this Design. It had a Territory sufficiently big for the framing a durable Settlement, and Ports sufficiently large to ●nde secure during the greatest Tempests. Its Inhabitants were born in an irreconcilable aversion to the Florentines, and consequently disposed to attempt and endure all, rather than be their Slaves. Moreover the Italian Princes would not be so much alarmed, hearing it was besieged, because they were accustomed to see it change its Master; and it would be more easy to persuade them, that it should be restored in the Accommodation.  
These Considerations prevailed in the Senate of Venice over Coglione's Reasons, to whom they sent a Dispatch, that it was much better to fix upon Pisa. It was no difficult matter for the General to make the Pitti's condescend to this Undertaking; for tho' they clearly saw, that this was not the shortest way to be taken for their Return into their Country, they durst not however declare openly all they thought of it, because they found Coglione too firm in his Resolution to be staggered; and they lay under the fear, by shocking him unseasonably, to lose the Benefit they expected from his Valour.  
Thus the Attack of Pisa was concluded and Coglione's Cavalry, almost all composed of Epirotes and Albanese, had order to invest it, while the Venetian Ships advanced towards the Coasts, to hinder the Succours that might be put into it by Sea. But whether his Cavalry did not set upon marching as soon as they were commanded, as being loath to leave their Quarters of Refreshment; 〈◊〉 that the Spies that Piero de Medici's ●●ends kept at great Charges in the Enemy's ●●mp, had informed them at the very instant 〈◊〉 the Resolution taken in the Council of ●ar, it happened, that at the same time that Coglione's Troops left their Quarters to go to ●isa, those of Naples quitted likewise theirs, 〈◊〉 march the same way. And as they were much nearer, San Severino their General ●ad the leisure to enter the Town, and range them in Places the most subject to unfore●n Attacks, before the Exiles Army did appear.  
Without this Precaution, the accurate Ken●●s of Military Discipline judged that the Town would have been forthwith taken: For ●●e Inhabitants stood but very ill affected to ●●●ir own Defence, and looked upon the ●●mies with as little concern, as if they had ●●en the Spectators of a Tragedy. They mattered in public, That the worst that ●●ould befall 'em, was the shifting of Tyrants. And as the Common People are very ingenious in cockering their Noddles with Hopes, tho' dull almost in every thing else, they ●●●gin'd, that a Revolution, let it turn on ●hat side soever, would infallibly change ●heir unhappy Destiny: from whence it was ●●ie to foresee, that if there had not been an Army maintained by the Florentines, who should have opposed the Enemy's Impetuosity, the Enemy had easily trod them under foot.  
And indeed, San Severino, who had as much Experience as Valour, did not think there was any safety to trust them with the Guard of the Suburbs. He kept them in the Main Guard, situated in the midst of the Town, under colour that it was the giving them the most Honourable Employ, as to oblige them to watch over the Fidelity of the Inhabitants, and disposed the Troops he brought in those Parts where he judged the Enemy would come. He was not mistaken in his Conjecture, and Coglione did not lose time in following the Methods of the Captains of his Age, who never attacked a Place without having made an exact Muster of their Army to those they pretended to besiege, 
Pellegrin in his last Book of the Art Military.  and without having finished the Circuit of their Walls in Battle-array. He forthwith attacked the Suburbs with great violence, but was repulsed with so much loss, that he was compelled to change his Design of Forcing the Town, into that of Reducing it by a Siege. Nor did he persevere long in the Resolution of making himself Master of it in the Forms; for as soon as he was informed that 6000 brave Soldiers were got into the Place, commanded by an experienced Head, he judged that it would be the ruining his Army, without much incommoding the Besieged, to attack them regularly. Thus his thoughts were wholly set upon retrenching them of their Provisions, and constraining the Neapolitan Troops by a Blockade to leave Pisa. But while he was heaving and labouring at this, with that indefatigable Vigilancy that made him subdue so many Places to the State of Venice, Fortune, as it were out of derision to him, begat the Occasion of finishing the War to his advantage, when he had tied up his Hands, as a Man may say, and incapacitated himself to profit by it.  
Piero de Medici's Gout mounting up again, while he laboured under his Fever, put a period to his days in so short a time, that he had not the leisure to settle his Affairs. His Friends were so much the more startled at his Death, as they had the less foreseen it; and owned from Experience, that Men of Consideration, as well as great Trees, never make more Shadow than when they fall: For tho' Piero acted neither with Head nor Hand in the Concerns of the Florentine Republic, or in his own; tho' he did not so much as know by sight the most of those that devoted themselves to his Interests, and exposed daily their Lives and Fortunes in his behalf; his bare Name, however, was become so great, and the Reputation of his Riches had acquired him so vast a number of Persons and Creatures, that it sufficed most of those who received Succours from him to know that he was in the World, to execute what had been ordained them on his account. Thus serving for a Band of Union to his Friends, and a Mediator to the young Gentlemen who Caballed for the Principal Offices of Trust, he could not be said to be useless, notwithstanding his continual Infirmities, and the weakness of his Genius. And, on the contrary, People foresaw, that his Death would be so much the more injurious to the Republic, and his Family, for that he left Both in a deplorable Condition.  
The End of the First Book.   

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS. The Second Book.  
OF all the Houses that now bear any Sovereign Sway, not one is there that has been reduced to stranger Extremities than that of Medicis: Nor was the House of Medicis ever so near its Ruin, as in the sad Conjuncture when young Lorenzo became its Head. As he had reaped his Father's whole Estate, bating a very small Portion, which fell to Giuliano his younger Brother, to serve him for Legitimation, he was likewise to undergo all the Charges, which could not possibly be more heavy than at that time. Become he was the Head of his Family, and the most considerable Citizen in Florence, at an Age when others have still need of ten years' Guardianship; and his Youth was almost equally despiseable to his Friends and his Enemies. He found he was engaged in a War, which the Riches that came to him by Inheritance could not sufficiently cope withal, tho' they were immense. In the mean while, by all likelihood, the Sequels of this War would be long and troublesome, seeing the Republic of Venice was a Party concerned.  
Besides the declared Enemies of his House, that appeared with Sword in hand, to the number of above Twenty thousand, there was a great many secret and unknown ones in the Territory, as also in the City of Florence, who were no less to be feared. The People had by their Shrugs and Muttering shown how weary they were of the War, before they had suffered any Inconveniency from it; and gave out, that they would make their Accommodation at their Expense who were the Cause or the Pretext of the Discord.  
The Auxiliary Troops thought, that their Engagement was ended by the Death of Piero de Medici, and acted so faintly, as it was easy to guests, that in a few days they expected to be recalled. The Gonfaloniere and the Subalternate Magistrates began to despair of maintaining the War, and did not believe they were now powerful enough to keep the Factious in Obedience. The Friends of the House of Medici had newly lost the Foundation of their Union in the Person of Piero, and durst no longer act in concert, out of an opinion they had of one another, that each Man meditated the making his Accommodation apart. In few words, the Danger was so great, and seemed so inevitable, that there needed the utmost Endeavours of the most Heroic and most Consummated Virtue, to triumph over so many Difficulties.  
Nevertheless, Lorenzo de Medici undertook it for his Trial of Skill. And as he borrowed from History part of what he was wanting in from Experience, the first thing he did was to comport himself like a Man that would not only supply his Father's Place, but likewise that of his Grandfather. The next day assisting at the Council, he made known to the Adherents of his Name, what might reasonably be expected from a Man of such a promising Capacity. He spoke his Advice with such maturity of Wit as was admired, and began with that happy Address, as to make his Person considered like a Rising Sun. And indeed, that very Afternoon the Council assembled at his House, where he spoke of the Republicks and of his own Affairs with so much Prudence, Order, and Neatness, that he fully persuaded those of his Party, that they had gained more than they had lost in the Death of his Father.  
Then he applied his Endeavours wholly to re-establish the good Understanding which Piero's Death had altered, and to prevent the Advantages which might have thence accrued to his Enemies. He caused Money to be doled among all the Troops that served the Republic of Florence, and hindered them by this Gratification from giving ear to the Pitti's Emissaries, bribed to corrupt them. He spread about a Rumour, That there were Letters intercepted from the Pitti's, which named almost all those of their Faction that were left at Florence, to manage the People in their favour, and that their Persons were suddenly to be seized on, to be served as Criminals of State; and gave so many Marks that the Republic would proceed to their Imprisonment, that those who found themselves culpable, thought there was no Safety any longer for them at Florence, and sought Retreat elsewhere: Which in two days space caused all the Complaints to cease, that were made against the Government.  
He accustomed the People to despise the Exiles, and no longer to value the Forces they had assembled, by making them observe the Fault that Coglione had committed, in setting upon Pisa, in stead of marching directly to Florence; and started among them Subjects for pleasant Discourses, so to divert them from the mortifying Tidings they from time to time received, of their Houses of Pleasure being burnt. And then, when the Storm was over, and the Country was laid desolate, he made the Parties concerned so well comprehend the importance of the Injury that was done them, that he rendered them irreconcilable to those who were the Authors of such Devastations, and made them as many Soldiers devoted to the Defence of his Party. He with all haste dispatched away Courriers to Naples and Milan, that the first News of his Father's Death might be imparted there from him himself; and the Messengers were immediately followed by Gentlemen of Note and Trust, who obtained, in favour of Lorenzo de Medici, the Confirmation of the Treaties concluded with his Predecessor, and brought new Orders to the Auxiliary Troops to act vigorously for his Interests.  
The Magistrates he re-encouraged, by assuring them, that what Soldiers were in Florence, should be employed to procure them Obedience. He gave the Friends of his House to understand, that they ought not to seek elsewhere, than in his Person, for the Foundation of their Union; and made them so agreeable a Reproach for entertaining thoughts of knocking off their several ways, that they could not but blush out of mere shame; so that he brought them again to a good understanding of one another. He made them fall again to their former Functions, without the least alteration. He obliged them to declare themselves publicly in his behalf, for the rendering them the more firm, and to take away from the Pitti's the Hopes of corrupting them. In one word, he adjusted all things so well, that the Republic did not suffer any of the Revolutions with which it had been threatened by his Father's Death.  
But with all this, it would have been impossible for him to have maintained himself by his own Virtue, if Fortune had not espoused his Cause, and if his Enemies, in stead of repairing the Fault they had committed, had not augmented it by an unseasonable and affected Obstinacy. All the Rules of the Military Art did required, that Coglione in the very moment he had the News of Piero de Medici's Death, should have raised the Blockade of Pisa, and caused his Army to advance towards Florence, to foment the Intelligences which the Pitti's maintained there, and to be at lurch for nicking the Changes, which according to all appearance could not miss of happening. The Pitti's conjured him to it with Instances which might probably have prevailed. They represented to him, That the Pisan Enterprise was no longer in terms of succeeding; That the Succours of Naples, that were got into the Town, had removed the principal Foundation on which it was built, by disarming the Inhabitants, and dispensing them from all Military Functions; That the Place wanted neither Victuals nor Amunitions; That there was no expecting any Discord between the Soldiers and the Citizens; and, That as San Severino was a Man of Order, he would easily appease the Quarrels which might arise among the Soldiers: From whence the Pitti's concluded, That they must resolve on spending the whole next Winter before Pisa, and in the mean while leave the Florentines in a State of executing all the Enterprises they would frame, after having settled their Government; or, That they ought to draw nearer to their City, that they might take advantage of the Tumults, which their Friends would not fail of exciting there. However, Coglione had no regard to this Remonstrance, and made appear by his Obstinacy, that there is nothing more dangerous than the putting one's Affairs into the disposal of a Person that has not the same Interest for their accomplishment. The secret Orders of the Venetian Senate prevailed over the General's Duty; and the desire of augmenting his own Renown, to the cost of San Severino's, and perhaps also of getting by the Ransom of the richest Barons of Naples, who had put themselves into the Town, reduced all his thoughts to that of suffering nothing to go in or out.  
Lorenzo de Medici being overjoyed at his Adversary's fatal Stupidity, lost not one moment of the Leisure afforded him. He took care of Affairs abroad, after his terminating those at home, and gave his Father-in-Law Money, to get into the Service of the Florentines the Troops appointed for the Guard of the Ecclesiastic State. He enabled the Colonna's to List those Italian Forces again, which the French King and the Count de Charellois had Cashiered after the War for the Public Good; and when he saw himself strong enough to appear in the presence of his Enemy, he marched out of Florence in Quality of Comissary-General of the Republic; and leaving all the Honour and Supreme Authority of the Army to Federigo d' Vrbino, he only reserved to himself the Care of its Subsistence.  
Federigo did not frustrate the Hopes that were conceived of his Valour. He went directly for Pisa, with so much Resolution, that Coglione (who detached himself out, for the viewing him the better) doubted the being defeated, if he suffered himself to be cooped up betwixt the Neapolitan Troops which he held invested, and the Succours that came to their Relief. To avoid this Inconvenience, which had made him lose all his Reputation, he raised the Blockade with great Order, as well as Diligence. And as he had no great opinion of the Florentines Army, because near half of it were new Levies, he encamped in such manner as if he designed to present them Battle. Federigo d' Vrbino and San Severino did not refuse it, after having joined their Forces; and Lorenzo de Medici was obliged to consent thereunto, tho' he sufficiently foresaw, that it was a remitting, to the Disposure of Fortune, the Freedom of his Country, and the Establishment of his House. The Particulars of this Fight upon the Banks of the River Riccardi, in the Territory of Bologne, are in all the Histories of Florence, two excepted, which they have perhaps omitted, because they properly appertain to a Writer of Anecdota. The first is, That Coglione having invented a few days before the way of managing Artillery in the open Field, made use of it the Day of Battle, with a very whimsical Success; for it had no other Effect upon the Florentine Army, than the taking off Prince Hercules of Ferrara's Boot-heel; which all Italy complained of to Coglione, as a manifest Contravention to their Laws and Measures of War, in that distrusting the Valour of his Soldiers, he had invented the Secret of stealing the Victory, not finding himself capable of gaining it by legitimate means. The second Circumstance is, That the Battle not beginning before the Days declension, and the Night coming on before it was ended, the Black Guards, Grooms, and Footmen, and other Creatures of that stamp, kindled Flambeaux, and fell to lighting their Masters, in such manner as they were wont to do at Tournaments.  
To neither Side the Victory inclined; and the two Parties having banged themselves weary, tho' with the loss of very little Blood, retired with an equal Advantage. But Federigo d' Vrbino, who would needs refine upon the manner of making War, which otherwise was then practised without any Craft or Artifice, bethought himself of giving but two hours Repose to the Army of Florence, and to lead it afterwards, without any noise, to attack the Enemies Camp. He came thither at Break of day, and found Coglione's Soldiers so fast asleep, that it was easy for him to take the Quarter which he assaulted, before the Troops appointed for the Guard of the other Quarters were awaked, and put into a Posture of Self-defence. This Conflict was a little more bloody than that of the Day before: But then, as they did not yet understand in Italy what it was to kill Men that made no Defence, and asked to be set at Ransom, the Exiles lost in this Rencounter little more than the Sum of Money, which was employed in redeeming the Prisoners. The greatest Mischief fell upon Coglione, of whom the Pitti's had so mean and slight an Opinion, that from that time they would not confide in him the Command of their Army. But the Venetians pretending to be more just Estimators of Unfortunate Virtue, re-established him in the Generalship, from whence they had outed him, sooner than was necessary for the retrieving their own Reputation; and by that means persuading the most incredulous Minds out of the Opinion, that he had not so absolutely divorced himself from their Service, but that he was linked to it by certain indissoluble Chains.  
The Pitti's, that had dismissed him before they had made sure of any other to supply his Room, did not find out a General so easily as they imagined; because Borsius of Este, Marquis of Ferrara, on whom they had pitched, did not entertain the Offers they made him with all the Heat they desired. Too Judicious he was not to perceive, that the Venetian Senate was really deeper concerned in the Tuscan War, than it outwardly appeared. And as he was a Neighbour to that Republic, and had nothing to fear in that Juncture of Affairs, as long as he stood in good Terms with it, he had no mind to shock it, in consideration of the Pitti's, who had nor Strength nor Credit to re-establish him, if he came once to be turned out.  
The same Reason of State hindered the Marquis from declaring against the Florentines, since they were also his Neighbours, and if they had not the same facility to ruin him as the Venetians, they might lay waste the Land of Ferrara, by causing part of their Victorious Troops to live at discretion there, and so reduce his Subjects to Beggary.  
Yet the extraordinary Civility which he used even in his Refusals, obliged him to let the Pitti's know, That tho' his Affairs did not allow him to declare for either Party, he ●hould account himself happy, in contributing to the Accommodation, if he was judg●ed capable of that Province. The Pitti's not being in an extremely kind Posture, notwithstanding their Advantage, made all due Reflections upon Borsius of Este's Proposition. They had not in themselves either the Power to make Peace, or to continue the War. They had so much the more reason to fear the being abandoned by the State of Venice, in that it had already despaired of gaining by their Revolt; and the Turks gave it new ●ealousies, by menacing the remainder of those Islands, which they held in the Archi●elago. Coglione's Disgrace discouraged their ●riends from assisting them: And as it was maintained for a Maxim in Italy, That Rebellions were commonly fatal to their Undertakers, when Fortune was wanting to second their first Endeavours; they had more reason to ●ear the being abandoned by those of their own Faction, than they had to pretend there were in Tuscany such ill-advised Men, as to en●er with them into new Engagements.  
Now this inspired them with the following Request to Borsius of Este; they conjured ●im to be their Mediator, and remitted their merests into his Hands. Borsius had too much Sense to take upon him so nice an Affair, without consulting the Oracle; for such the Venetian Senate was then styled: He acquainted them with the Request which had newly been made him from the Exiles of Florence: He communicated to them the full Power they head sent him, and asked the Advice of the Pregadi upon what he was to do.  
Told he was, That the Senate would be very glad to see the Troubles of Tuscany at an end, tho' it were only to take away all Pretence from Calumny, of divulging (as it did) that they were fomented by the Venetians. There needed no more, to make Borsius apprehend, that the Senate would no longer undergo the Public Odium, by protecting Exiles, that were become useless to them by their Misfortune, and suspected by Coglione's Degradation. he took this Answer for an Allowance, and without losing time, writ to the Florentines, That if they were in a Humour to hearken to Proposals of Agreement, such reasonable ones should be made them, as they would be very loath to reject.  
Lorenzo de Medici had no sooner notice of this Offer, but he left his Brother Giuliano in his room at the Army, and returned to Florence, where he examined with his Friends, whether it was the particular Interest of his own House, as well as that of the Republic, to conclude the Peace. So divided were their Sentiments, that there was no appearance of reuniting them; but Lorenzo, that had seen more nearly the Mischiefs of the War, and was resolved to put a Period to it some way or other, brought over those that were of opinion to have it continued, by representing to them, That things had so changed face since the War began, that they should be infallibly mistaken, if they reasoned upon the same Principles; That the Pitti's in truth were not to be feared, since they had spent their whole Estate, and lost their Credit; That the Guelphs had left them in the lurch; and, that the State of Venice was so weary of upholding them, that it only sought after a plausible Pretext to take away its Protection from them, without noise and scandal; That this Pretence consisted in the Negotiation whereinto the Marquis of Ferrara desired them to enter, and that he was of opinion it ought to be accepted; That it would be for the Florentines to bate something of the Conditions, under which 'twas pretended they should relax a little of the Severity of the Laws; and that, in the mean while, they would derive all the Advantages from a Suspension of Arms, without the Pitti's being disburdened from the Charges of maintaining their Troops; That they would not reap any great Fruit from the Conclusion of the Peace, in case it was made, as they could hardly become more miserable than they were, by the continuation of the War; but that the Commonwealth of Florence in general, and the House of Medicis in particular, ran a risk of losing all, without having any hopes of advantaging themselves, as long as their Enemies had their Swords in their Hands.  
Lorenzo added other Reasons of as great moment, to those I have now specified, and made his Friends so well perceive, that it was the Duty of a Republic, to allow Fortune the least Lock it could upon itself, that he made them condescend to Peace. They went out of his House with this Resolution, and the next day caused it to be concluded in the Council of Eight, That the Intermission of the Marquis of Ferrara should be accepted. The Negotiation was of no long duration, and terminated, like all others that commence betwixt unequal Parties; I mean, that it was concluded at the expense of the weaker Side. The Pitti's obliged themselves to disarm, and remain Exiles for Ten years; at the Expiration of which, they should be allowed to return into their own Country, on condition of never more exercising any Magistracy or Public Office therein: And the Commonwealth granted an Amm●sly to those that had taken their part, at the Charge of serving against the City of Volterra, then revolted.  
This City, more Famous in Ancient than Modern History, truckled to that of Florence with so much the more impatience, as it had been one of the Last that was ranged under its Sway. And the Contrariety of Humour evermore most notorious between its Inhabitants and the Florentines, made them believe, that there was no Yoke but what was Light, in comparison of that they bore. These two Causes had engaged them in the Party of all those who had declared themselves at divers times Enemies to the Republic, and had made them open their Gates to Coglione's Army, as soon as it appeared before their Walls. They had not been comprehended in the Negotiation, whether the Pitti's had not the Power to do it, or had not much insisted to obtain it, because those of Volterra had received them without exacting from them the hast Engagement, either by Word of Mouth, or by Writing.  
Thus were they condemned by Law-Martial to pay the Charges of the War, and the Principal Officers of the Florentine Army prepared to lead their Troops thither. Lorenzo de Medici only waited for the Republick's Order to invest it; but this Order was not given, for that the Council of Eight could not easily resolve upon the entire ruin of a Town of that Importance. This Council chose much rather to dissemble the Fault it had committed, than to apply Fire and Sword to repair it. And the perfect Knowledge they fancied they had of the Genius of that stubborn People, persuaded them, by a Subtlety of Ratiocination, to wink at their Revolt. They also imagined, that it would be losing time, and putting the Authority of the Republic to the Judgement of Private Men, to demand of them the Principal Heads of the Rebellion, which they would never deliver. And as they were neither willing to expose themselves to the Affront of a Refusal of that nature, nor push on to the last Extremity▪ against People they saw disposed to expect it, they were of opinion to treat those of Volterra in the same manner they were wont, and to show them by this Conduct, that they had not taken notice of their Revolt.  
But Lorenzo made them take up more Generous Sentiments, by representing to them, That the Crime of the Volterrans could by no mean● be dissembled, in a Popular State, without exposing themselves to the Peril of a speedy Revolution; That there was no City in the Territory of Florence, but would follow, upon the first occasion, the Example that had been newly set them, if they were not diverted from so doing by the Quality of the Punishment under which they should be lashed; and that Clemency was the Rock whereon all Republics, without excepting that of Rome, had suffered Wrack, because they were not in a Condition to practise that Virtue with as much security as Kings. He added, however, That Indulgence should be used towards those of Volterra; but that they must first of all acknowledge themselves unworthy of it, and in craving it, exert their Humility.  
These Reasons were indeed drawn from the profoundest Policy; but they were not the sole, not even the principal, that made Lorenzo act in this manner. He had more particular and more pressing one's, which represented to him, his Honour and his In●erest were both almost equally engaged in the Enterprise of Volterra; the Burghers of that City having made mighty goring Railleries', and infamous Satyrs, on the Subject of his Youth, and his too great Familiarity with Angelus Politianus, and the Study of Polite Learning, to which he was a Pretender, contrary to the Custom of the Italian Gentlemen. Moreover, the War of the Pitti's had not lasted long enough to handsel his first Arms. There had been only one Battle, wherein he acted merely in Quality of a Volunteer, and under the Orders of Federigo d' Vrbino. A Soldier he was known to be; but there was still room for suspicion, whether he was a Captain, until he was seen at the Head of an Army, act of himself, and put happily in practice what he had read in good Books. The Necessity of his Affairs, and the Occasion his Friends had for his continual Presence in the Country, did not allow him to seek Employment among Strangers, and all Italy enjoyed at that time a profound Tranquillity: Wherefore in Tuscany was he to seek whereon to make his Apprenticeship; and as it was not fitting, or hardly possible in a Private Person, to raise a new War in his own Country, at least without incurring the Public Abomination, he was to husband well the Occasion of doing it, that offered itself, for the attaining the Advantage aimed at, without receiving any Damage. In few words, Lorenzo knew that the Pitti's had not acted so much against the Florentine Republic, as against him; and held himself, by consequence, the more nearly bound to hinder their stirring for the future. Yet this could not be prevented, as long as they had the Conveniency of such a City as Volterra, very considerable of itself, and near Florence, to serve them for an Asylum.  
Thus, the Siege of Volterra was resolved on; and the same Lorenzo de Medici who had had sufficient Credit to get that Enterprise undertaken, had likewise sufficient to procure to himself the Commission of performing it. He Invested the Place with the Troops which the Florentines kept in Pay, disposing the Attacks with Regularity enough, at a time when hardly any thing was understood of Military Architecture. The Besieged, who had run themselves into this Tempest through their own Imprudence, sustained it with more firmness than was expected. They spoke neither of Capitulating nor Surrendering, and did on that occasion what could only have been expected from the most obstinate Citizens of Old Rome. They defended their Town to the very last Extremity, tho' they had not any hopes of being relieved; and when People asked them what they meant to do, they returned answer, That they intended nothing else than the deferring their Slavery for some Months. But in short, those who had yielded neither to the Violence of their Adversaries, nor to Lassitude and Weariness, sunk under Famine, and delivered all up on Discretion. The Mercenary Soldiers of the Florentines, who already were all preparing to put them to the Sword, and then seize on their Estates, were strangely surprised, when they saw they were frustrated of their Pretensions by their General's Address.  
And indeed, it was neither the Interest nor the Genius of Lorenzo to abandon Volterra to Plunder: For besides the Loss the Florentine Republic had suffered thereby, that Person would ever have been looked on as Sanguinary, under whose Orders the Place had been desolated: Whereas by preserving it from the Licentiousness of the Soldiers, a Man might promise himself the Applause of all Degrees in the Republic, when the State of Volterra should have put a period to the Aversion which the Florentines harboured for its Inhabitants.  
This Reflection was so much the more solid, in that there was not at that time any People who with more levity skipped from Hatred, apparently irreconcilable, to Love, than that of Florence. And Lorenzo, who had already experienced it more than once, in the War against the Pitti's, did of his own proper motion an Action of Clemency to the Enemy, which he foresaw must needs be made up and reconciled in process of time, tho' it was not easy to bring it to pass in the posture things than were reduced to.  
The Army he commanded, was not wholly to be confided in by him; for besides the Regulated Troops, several Companies in it were of Banditti, who had not subjected themselves to the Fatigues of the Siege, but in the hopes they had entertained of Plunder. It could not otherwise be expected, but that these Banditti would contemn the Orders that should be given them to abstain from Pillage, and mutiny, so to have a Pretext to enter Volterra in a fury. This made their General use a Stratagem, which they too late found out, to prevent being deluded by it. As soon as he was informed, that the Townsmen resolved to hold out no longer, he feigned a Desire to raise the Siege, and Cashiered the Men for which the State had no longer any occasion. He caused a general Muster to be made of his Army, and reformed such Companies as he disinherited. Their Commanders complained openly, That they were robbed of a Pillage that was their due, and caused the Assault to be sounded: but they found Troops that Lorenzo had made sure of, posted upon the Avenues, that stopped them in their Carrier, and constrained them to be jogging back to Romagna, there to continue their Robberies.  
Then did Lorenzo de Medici enter Volterra, granting the Inhabitants their Lives and Fortunes, and only excepting out of the General Pardon ten or twelve of the most culpable, that were hanged. He used the rest with all possible Moderation and Charity, and constrained them to praise him for having been their Deliverer, ever against their Wills. The Florentines did for their part what Lorenzo had foreseen. His Conduct they blamed at first, for having saved (as they said) their most irreconcilable Enemies: But they did not remain three days in so unreasonable an Opinion. They quickly owned, That as it had been necessary to use Severity towards the Volterrans, when they pretended to cast off the Yoke, it was fitting he should change his Method, after the Inconveniencies of a long Siege had convinced them, by their own Experience, of the impossibility of avoiding the Domination and Authority of the Florentines. Thus that People ratified all that Lorenzo had done, and decreed him Honours at his Return, which he made appear how much the more worthy he was of, in that he refused them without Disdain, and without so much as Affectation.  
Having settled his Reputation by Arms, he bent his Thoughts and Endeavours during Peace to the Establishment of his own Family. And as he had already two Sons born, he designed his Brother Giuliano for in Ecelesiastick, tho' he had not any disposition thereunto: For bating the time he spent is Tournaments, in which he commonly won the Prize, Sloth and Impurities shared the Hours of his Life. Otherwise, he was of Stature tall, of an advantageous Shape, and showed so much Wit and Courtesy, that his Brother imagined he would infallibly change, if he came to be exalted to a Dignity which required his carrying himself with less Licentiousness. That of Cardinal appeared at that time very commodious for this Design, forasmuch as the Pope's having not yet bethought themselves of conferring it upon the Children of Sovereigns and Imperial Princes, Magnificence and Luxury had not then got admittance into the Sacred College, nor did they look upon those Vices as its Principal Ornaments. Besides, the High-Priests had not yet figured to themselves, that their Authority was wounded, in putting Affairs of moment into Deliberation in the Consistory, and resolving upon them by the number of Suffrages: From whence it came, that each Cardinal had as much Business as was needful for a Person of his Rank, not to be idle, if he would weigh Matters justly and pertinently, about which he well knew his Advice would be required.  
Thus Lorenzo fell to Intriguing in the Concern of a Cap for his Brother, and employed such puissant Solicitations to Pope Sixtus the Fourth, as to have reason to believe, it would be granted him at the approaching Promotion: For he did not content himself with the good Offices of the Republic of Florence, whose Recommendation had ever been much regarded at the Court of Rome, in all such like Conditions of Affairs; but he likewise caused the King of Naples, the Duke of Milan, and the Genoveses to intercede, whom his Holiness took a pride to oblige on all Occasions. Nevertheless, the Pope was inflexible, and refused the Cap in such terms, as took away all hopes of obtaining it, during his Life-time. Lorenzo nettled at the Affront, which was inseparable from such kind of Refusals, laid hold on the first Occasion that Fortune presented him withal, to be revenged; and did it with a Success that had like to have ruined him and all his House, by the Intrigues and Snares I am going to represent.  
Sixtus the Fourth had been a poor Cordelier of Savona, to whom Cardinal Bessarion's Esteem had acquired the Dignity of Cardinal. The wonderful Talon and Knack he had at Preaching, and the extraordinary Zeal which carried him to maintain the Immaculate Conception of the Mother of God, had insinuated him into the Party of those who valued themselves upon a particular, and (as I may say) singularised Devotion. Afterwards, he mounted to the See of St. Peter, by his Alliance with Cardinal Borgia, and the hopes the Latter had of obtaining the Abbey of Sublac, and other rich Benefices, for the acknowledgement of the Suffrages of a very powerful Faction in the Conclave, which he disposed of in Quality of Cardinal-Nephew.  
After this, Sixtus never troubled his Head about concealing his Failures, as being no longer afraid of their injuring his Fortune. And it was observed, a little while after his coming to the Papacy, that he was agitated with a Warlike Spirit, directly contrary to his August and Heavenly Character, and possessed with such an Ambition to aggrandise his Family, that he did not value violating the Laws, or conniving at the most extraordinary Licentiousness, provided he raised it out of the Dust, wherein it had been buried.  
This Ambition seemed so much the more strange, in that it from the very beginning passed over the Barriers his Predecessors had put to theirs, in what regarded their Relations: For, whereas they had rested satisfied with delivering them out of Misery, in case they were oppressed, or in helping them to maintain their Family, by Consideration, if it was Illustriot●s; Sixtus his aim was nothing less, at his coming to the Papacy, than the preferring his to the Highest Dignities of Civil Life.  
He had nine Nephews; namely, five of his own Name, della Rovere, who were Children of his three Brothers already dead; and four that went by the Names of Riari●, Basso, and Sanson●o, which were the three Families into which his Sisters and one of his Nieces had married. Of the five Paternal Nephews, two of them were Sons of Rafaele his eldest Brother, namely, Giuliano and Gi●vani. Giuliano had received the Cardinal's Cap that became vacant by his Uncle's Exaltation, and the Title of Saint Peter in Bonds: And because he then testified an Inclination to France, he was made Bishop of Carpentras, by which means he insinuated himself into the Amity of King Lewis the Eleventh, who gave him many Benefices. Giovanni had acquired, at his Uncle's Cost, the Sovereignty's of Sora and Sinigaglia, in Vmbria; and had such a fair Prospect, as to fancy he was almost secure of succeeding in the Duchy of Urbin, by his Marriage with Giovanna only Daughter to the Famous Federico the fy, Duke of that State; for tho' Federico had a Son called Guidubar, that Son had so little Health, that the Physicians despaired of his living long enough to leave any thing of his Name to Posterity. The Pope's third Nephew was his youngest Brother's only Son, called Leonardo. He had the Trust of perfect of Rome, and was allied to the House of Naples, by marrying a Natural Daughter of King Ferrando. The fourth and fifth Nephews, called Christoforo and Domenico, were Sons of his Holinesses third Brother, and possessed the signory of Viconovo, and several other Noble Lands towards the Coast of ●eno●a.  
But it was not the Excess only of the Pope's Ambition, which rendered it insupportable; it being accompanied with a Capriciousness of Humour, that was built neither upon Interest nor Probability: For, tho' Sixtus in all appearance ought to have set a greater value on the five Nephews I have just mentioned, than on the four others, that only appertained to him on the women's side; tho' all manner of Reasons obliged him so to do; and tho' Giuliano alone, who was the eldest, was endued with all the wonderful Qualities which since rendered his Pontificate so famous, under the Name of Giulio the Second; most certain it is, that he could never obtain from his Uncle ●●●her to com●ort himself as Head of the House della Rovere, or do the Functions of Cardinal-Nephew; or that his Brother, or three Cousins, should any more than be profit by what was refused him.  
In a word, Sixtus his strongest Inclinations were ever in favour of his Sister's Children, and principally of the eldest, who had two, namely, Piero, and Geronimo Riario▪ fiero had been a Cordelier as well as his Uncle, and deserved perhaps thereby the preference in his Friendship. He was made Cardinal the same day as Giuliano, but had the advantage over him, in being declared Cardinal-Nephew, and carrying the Bishopric of Trevisa, which Giuliano had begged. Afterwards, he had the richest Benefices conferred on him, that fell vacant; and so powerful was he rendered, that he had the greatest Train of any of the Sacred College. But his Defects were so great, that Fortune alone could neither correct nor cover them: for, on the one side, he was so prodigal, that the Revenues of the Papacy could hardly cope with his hideous Expenses; and in his time it was they first saw at Rome, since the Lording Days of the Ancient Caesar's, a Man who consumed in two years' space Two hundred thousand Crowns, which he had got from his Uncle, and Sixty thousand he had borrowed. He obtained for himself the General Legantine Power in Italy, and visited by turns in that Quality the Princes and Republics, that his Splendour and Magnificence might be the more seen and adored: but he had so weakened his Health by the multitude and excess of his Debauches, that he had almost wholly lost the use of the most necessary Parts of the Body, at Five and twenty years of age.  
Contrariwise, his Brother Geronimo, on whom the Pope had cast his Eyes, to make him his Principal Heir, was more severe, and had no fondness for any other Divertisement than that of Hunting. He loved Action to that degree, that after his rate of talking, there seemed not to be any Affairs in the Ecclesiastic State, of moment sufficient to employ him. He would needs manage all, and was vexed at those who dutifully offered to ease him; but in return, he burned with the same Fire as his Uncle; and the Sovereignty of Forli, which he had purchased so dear, had only served to give him the greater disgust to a Private Life. And indeed, he had conceived so much Aversion to it, that he had prevailed with the Pope to create Cardinals Geronimo Basso his Aunt's Son, and Rafaele Sansonio his Sister's Son; and could not endure his other Relations, whom he was constrained to leave in the Obscurity of their Birth. He had been so cajoled by the Duke of Milan, that this Prince had matched him with Caterina Sforza his Natural Daughter; and the Pope, in consideration of this Alliance, had sent on the very Wedding-day a Cardinal's Cap to the youngest of the Legitimate Sons of that Duke, called Ascanio.  
Riario had nothing more to do to complete his Establishment, than to set footing in Vmbria, from whence it would have been easy for him to spread himself into Romagna, and perhaps likewise into Tuscany: but as he had no Troops, and that a great deal of Money was needful for the necessary Levies, his Uncle made no scruple of setting to sale the Offices of the Chancery, and the Court of Rome, which under the preceding Popes had ever been the Reward of Ability, or Virtue. He created five Colleagues, through whose Hands all Expeditions of the Datary must pass successively, and nine new Offices in the Apostolic Chamber, that were purchased at excessive Rates. He made no Reflection either upon the ignominious Commerce he was going to introduce, on the honest Liberty he was about to strip the Court of Rome of, or the Inconveniencies that would ensue from the time when a stop would be put to the Labour and Industry of the most refined Italians, by retrenching gratuitous Dignities, which served them for a Bait, and enkindled their Emulation. He augmented the ancient Imposts, and created new ones. He created extraordinary Tenths, and likewise brought an Army on foot whereof the Cardinal de San Piero accepted the Legation, rather to satisfy his Warlike Humour, than out of kindness to Riario, whose Prosperity he could not look upon without Envy.  
Federigo d' Urbin was requested to accept of being General; and to engage him to act the more hearty, they changed his Generality and Quality of Count, into that of Duke. They diminished the Duties and Arrears he Annually paid to the Apostolic Chamber, in Fealty for Vrbino. They fetched him to Rome, to receive the Honours commonly paid to Crowned Heads; and they caused him to go with the Cardinal of St. Peter in Bonds, to invest the City of Loddi, it being designed for the first Flower of Riario's imaginary Monarchy. Loddi held out, and was taken by Assault, yet without being plundered: They proceeded no farther than Decimating the Inhabitants, and saved their Estates in consideration of him who was to be their Master.  
The City of Spoletto had almost the same Fate, and was subdued with so much the more ease, in that those of Riario's Faction prevailed over the other Burghers, who had set themselves at Liberty; but they met with more Resistance at Citta di Castello, because Nicola Vitelli, the Proprietor, showed more Resolution, and was better assisted. His particular Union with Lorenzo de Medici made him implore the Succours of the Florentine Commonwealth, which refused him it publicly, at the same time that it granted it in private, because Lorenzo on the one side would not come to an open Rupture with the Pope, and on the other, was overjoyed to revenge himself of the Affront he had received, by supporting a Just Cause, and diverting the Danger wherewith his Country was threatened, supposing Riario should seize on Vmbria.  
Thus, the new Duke d' Vrbino and the Cardinal-Legate were constrained to frame a Regular Siege before Citta di Castello, and see the bravest Troops they had raised, moulder away before that Place. However, they gained it at length, tho' it was not till after three months' Circumvallation, and on Conditions more honourable to Vitelli than to the Besiegers, since they were reduced to let him continue still in the Place, in Quality of a Private Gentleman, by purchasing at a dear Rate the Lands he possessed in the Neighbourhood. He had the Value of them paid him down on the nail, before the Capitulation was executed; and this ready Money enabled him to recover some time after, by Surprise, Citta di Castello, to drive shamefully thence Riario's Garrison, and raze the Citadel they had begun to build in that Place.  
The Pope, who had been long enough Vitelly's Friend, to know him to the very bottom of his Soul, and judge, that he would not have been capable of making so subtle a Treaty as his was, or recovering so soon what he had lost, if Lorenzo de Medici had not assisted and prompted him under hand: the Pope, I say, conceived such a spite against Lorenzo, as he could not dissemble: So difficult is it to disguise the Passions, when they are arrived to an Excess. He fell into a kind of Frantic Fit, at the first news that was brought him thereof; he turned pale with Fury; he wept; he lost his Stomach, and remained some days without daring to hold a Consistory.  
To the Florentines he complained thereof, in Terms highly injurious to Lorenzo, which menaced him with something very hideous and fatal: but the Re-establishment of Vitelli had been managed with so much Cunning and Secrecy, that the Nuncio residing at Florence could never produce against Lorenzo other than such weak Conjectures as fallen presently of themselves. Thus all the Satisfaction the Pope obtained, was made up only of most humble and obedient Compliments; and Lorenzo was absolved after a manner sufficiently glorious to confound his Accusers. Vitelli remained peaceable in Citta di Castello, the Pope having no more Armies for the Besieging it again; and his Holiness, in whom this Disgrace had only augmented the Desire of aggrandizing Riario, understood, that he was to proceed in that Design by such ways as created fewer Enviers, and were not so subject to Obstructions.  
The first that offered itself, was that of the Acquisition of Faenza; and Fortune only started it, to have the pleasure of shamming Sixius once again. This City served exactly for a Centre to his old Design, for that it was situated in the midst of the Government, which he pretended to found for his Nephew, in the Provinces of Romagna, Tuscany, and Vmbria. It had already, for several Ages, belonged to the House of the Manfredi's: But Astorre, who then held it with the Title of Sovereignty, had been so prodigal in his Expenses, that his Revenue being uncapable of paying the Interest of what he owed, his Creditors had had recourse to the Apostolic Chamber, and had caused him to be summoned in Quality of one owing Fealty to the Holy See, for the being reimbursed their Principal.  
Astorre appeared by his Attorney, and desired time: But as his Spoil was so considerable, as to oblige his Judges to become Parties against him, his Estate was called in by Outcry, and adjudged to his Creditors for Thirty thousand Crowns, in case they were not paid in forty days after the signification of the Sentence.  
The Creditors had agreed with the Pope to make over their Rights to Riario for the like Sum; but Lorenzo had no sooner notice of it, but he resolved to break the Bargain. Not but that he foresaw, there needed nothing more to make the Pope's Fury burst out, and hamper himself in a Business that would last as long as the Life of him he was going to shock: Nevertheless he proceeded in it; whether he thought he had already so incensed Pope Sixtus, that no Measures were any longer to be kept with him; or that he accounted the Acquisition of Faenza by the Riario's so prejudicial to Florence, that not only his Riches and his Life, but also the State, were to be hazarded for the preventing of it. And indeed he underhand procured People to let Astorre know, That if he would treat with them, and give them a Procuration in right Form, they would endeavour to acquit it, without making him lose his Sovereignty. Astorre received them with open Arms, abandoning to them all his Revenues for Twenty years, in consideration of an Annual Pension of Two thousand Ducats, on condition to discharge it, and delivering a Power, by whose favour they went immediately to summon his Creditors to receive their Reimbursement.  
The Pope having not in the least dreamed, that Lorenzo durst provoke him once again, did not believe that Astorre's Engagists acted in good earnest. And as his Pericranium was easily possessed with certain things, he imagined that Astorre had made use of this 'Slight, to obtain some days longer Respite. To no purpose was Riario's Representation, That it was convenient to have recourse to some Formalities and Quirks of Law, for the avoiding the Signification of the Engagists; he continued fixed to have the Creditors taken at their Word, so to render their pretended Collusion the more ridiculous. But when the Act of their Consent was taken, and they pressed to agree on the Day and Hour of Payment; when they had given them the Choice of Species, and told them out the Money; then the Pope's Hatred against Lerenzo broke out so much the more, in that he had retrenched himself of all Judiciary means to hinder the Reimbursement. However, it became him to put a good face on't in Public, and cheerfully conclude the Affair, waiting for a fit Opportunity to make Lorenzo feel the Recoil and Counter-stroke of the Acquisition he had prevented.  
Here would be the Place to relate the Pazzi's Conspiracy, which was only the Product of those two bold Actions Lorenzo de Medici had newly done. But Politian, the greatest Humanist, and a Man the most skilled in Polite Learning since its first Re-establishment in Europe, hath given us so fine and pathetic a Descrption of it, that it is almost impossible to add any thing thereunto. Thus I should be obliged to transcribe it Word for Word, or abridge it, as the Historians of Florence since have done, without excepting Francisco Nero the Lawyer, who exercised his Talon upon the same Subject, by Queen Catharine of Medicis her Order. But as this is denied me by Procopius, I can adventure no farther than to set down here such Particulars of that Conspiracy as have been omitted, and borrow from History some Incidents, necessary for the weaving them all into a Piece.  
Francisco Pazzi was such another Man, as Catiline represented by Sallust. He had all the good and bad Qualities of that Roman Adventurer, and principally that of not having blunted in Debauchery either the Vivacity of his excellent Wit, or his innate enterprising Humour. His Family was reckoned among the Best of Florence, and his Father left him vast Riches, which only supplied for some few years the Luxury of his Table, and his other Diversions. The impossibility of borrowing anew, reduced him to leave his Native Country, and go to Rome, where the most extraordinary Genius he had at inventing new Impositions, under plausible Pretexts, first introduced him into the Knowledge, and then into the Pope's Intimacy and Trust. By means of this Familiarity, Pazzi stepping from Concerns of the Bank into those of Policy, and seeing the Pope in the utmost rage against the House of Medici, and in the fatal Disposition that Hatred must have attained to, for the becoming inveterate and irreconcilable; he proposed to him the exterminating it, by an Attempt that might instate the Family of the Riario's in the Place the Medici's held at Florence. I should not dare to say this, unless I had Onuphrius for my Warrantee, a Learned Augustin Friar, entirely devoted to the Interests of the Court of Rome: That Sixtus embraced the Overture, on condition that after the Murder of Lorenzo & Gluliano de Medici, a kind of Government should be settled at Florence, in which all things should be regulated according to the Intention of the Holy See; and that the Pope to avoid the Scandal all Christendom would receive, if it appeared, that his Holiness, who ought only to harbour Thoughts of Gentleness and Lenity, after his Example from whom he derived all his Authority, had trolled in his Understanding so black a Crime, and of so long Execution, he caused the Model of it to be drawn up by his Nephew Riario, and commanded him in secret to concert it with Pazzi, and take all the Measures necessary for the bringing it about.  
Riario and Pazzi agreed, That the Enterprise was of such a Consequence, that the bare Forces of the Ecclesiastic State were not sufficient to buoy it up; and that before all things, it was necessary to hook the Duke of Milan and the King of Naples into the Design. The Duke of Milan would have been much more proper for such a Business, by reason of the Neighbourhood of that Dukedom, and of the easiness of receiving thence Provisions necessary for the surprising Florence, and carrying on the War. But this Prince had the Imputation of keeping his Word with so little exactness, that there was no likelihood of embarking him in an Affair, of which he would have become the Master, as soon as he should have been trusted with the Secret; besides, he was so fickle in matter of Aversion, as well as of Friendship, that there was no relying on his not treating with his Capital Enemy, an hour after having conjured his Ruin.  
The King of Naples was farther distant from Florence, and more bewildered in Domestic Matters; but, in recompense, had a Sanguinary Disposition, and by consequence more susceptible of the Design they pretended to inspire him with. Moreover, he hated the House of Medici, since it had the Confidence to sound him upon a Match of Lorenzo with one of his Legitimate Daughters, before he married Clarice Orsini. In short, there were Troops at Naples, which were to be Shipped in order to their putting in Refreshments into Santori, the Siege of which Place the Turks had been constrained to raise; and those Troops might advance towards Tuscany without giving suspicion, because the Patrimony of St. Peter was bound to defray part of them.  
Whereupon, the Pope was besought to send to Naples such a trusty Man, as should so sweetly tickle King Ferrand's Humour in the most sensible part, by persuading him, that the Scope of the Revolution they meant to introduce into the Florentine Republic, was only to re-establish the Kingdom of Estruria, whose Sceptre should be swayed by his Natural Daughter, for whom he had more affection than for the rest of his Children; that might make him consent to what was desired of him. The Emissary that was dispatched to him, pushed on the Point much further: for, to hamper him in such manner as that this timorous Prince might have no pretext to go back, he made him send the Duke of Calabria, his eldest Son, into Tuscany, under the Shame of folliciting new Assignations of the Arrears of Pay owing him from the Commonwealth of Florence; but, in effect, to be upon the Spot when the Conspiracy should break forth, and to fix by his Authority, and the Renown of his Valour, those who had not yet determined what they had to do, or else to draw in the Principal of the Florentine Nobility, who would refuse declaring against the House of Medici, unless they saw they were abetted by a Prince of that Consideration.  
The Duke of Calabria began the Journey that was enjoined him, without knowing what he was going about, they having judged him too Sincere and Generous to take upon him so shameful a Commission, if he had penetrated into the Mystery of the Business. He was only given to understand, That he went to Head those Forces, whom the Pope had given good Quarters to in Romagna, that so his Presence might oblige them to live with more reservedness. But Riario's and Pazzi's extended still much farther. The Cardinal-Nephew's continual Riots had squatted him in his Coffin at twenty eight years old; and the regret Riario had for his Brother's untimely Death, did not hinder him from endeavouring to keep his Benefices and Dignities in his Family. To that intent, having not yet any Boys out of the Cradle, he bethought himself of making young Rafacle Sansonio, his Sister's Son, go by the Name of Riario, and presented him to the Pope to fill the Place of Cardinal-Nephew, tho' he was as yet but seventeen years of age. The Pope, who could deny Riario nothing immediately preferred that young Man into the Rank he desired; and Riario, to take advantage of the Good he had newly procured him, sent him into Tuscany, under the mask of perfecting his Studies at Pisa, which for Law at that time was the most celebrated University in Italy. But in truth, he had laid his Measures so well, that the young Cardinal Riario was to take a Journey to Florence, without any other Intention on his part, than of viewing that fair City; tho' Riario's aim was for him to be there just at the time the Conspiracy should be executed, that: so his Presence might animate such of the Plotters as were irresolved or fearful, and bring all the Authority, which Pazzi judged necessary, for the Consummation of the Conspiracy.  
There remained nothing more than the gaining Francisco Salviati, Archbishop of Pisa, by reason of using the Credit he had at Florence, and to have upon all Events and Occasions a Retreat into his Palace. Old Pazzi took upon him this Commission, and performed it almost without any trouble, by reason that the Resemblance of their Amours and Fortune had engaged them in so particular an Union, that they blindly espoused one another's Passions and Caprices. They were both of an age, and they were created Knights on the same day: They made no Profession of any Virtue, either Moral or Christian; they played perpetually at Dice, swore confoundedly, and showed no respect to Religious Matters.  
But besides this Society of Debauchery and Riot, two Reasons there were, that fastened the Archbishop of Pisa on the Undertaking. First, Because that in the pursuit of the Archbishopric, which he had got by Cabal, by Flattery, and other irregular Courses, which were then more in use in Italy, than they had been for nine or ten Ages afore, this Prelate had met with no greater Opposition than what came from those two Brothers de Medici, tho' he had surmounted them at length, by the Pazzi's Credit at the Court of Rome.  
The other Reason was, That to noose this retchless and voluptuous Spirit in an Enterprise which required so extraordinary an Application, they were forced to soothe him with the Honour he would acquire by declaring himself the Deliverer of his Country, and assuring him, moreover, of a Cardinal's Cap at the first Promotion.  
Now, they had nothing more to do, than to assemble, in a Place convenient, for the drawing up the Model of the Conspiracy; and Giacomo Pazzi offered for that purpose his House of Pleasure at Montuglio, where the Principal Accomplices met, under show of a Hunting-Match. There it was concluded, That Francisco Pazzi, who had lately insinuated himself into the Confidence of Giuliano de Medici, through the Hopes he had given him of favouring him with a Lady whom he extremely loved, should mind him to persuade Lorenzo, that tho' their House had no great reason to be satisfied with the Pope, yet it was becomingly handsome, considering the First Rank he held at Florence, to treat the Cardinal-Nephew, tho' it were only to testify to the People, That his Resentment was quite over, for the Rebuff he had met with at Rome.  
They supposed Lorenzo de Medici would immediately take the Cue, because they knew, the two Brothers lived in such Unity, that the one had not sooner explained his Mind upon Honest, and even Indifferent Things, than the other consented to them: Besides, his Humour was so naturally prone to Magnificency, and to paying that sort of Devoirs, that Decorum and Civility exacted frem Persons elevated above the Common Rank, that there needed nothing else to dispose him efficaciously thereto, than the furnishing him with the Occasion. Thus, as they suspected it would be in one of their Country-Houses that these two Brothers would receive the Cardinal-Nephew, to make him the better relish the Divertisements of the Season; it was concluded, that his young Eminency should be conducted by one half of the Conspirators, who should snap the Opportunity of assassinating the two Brothers in the midst of the Feast; while the other half, that were to stay behind in the City, should with the Archbishop's assistance excite the Sedition, and endeavour to riot the People, by making their Ears ring with the pleasing Word of LIBERTY.  
Francisco Pazzi performed his Commission in the very first Visit he paid to Giuliano de Medici: For, after the Compliment at entrance, he civilly besought him, with a jocund tone, to tell him the Day that his Brother and he had chosen for the Regale of the Cardinal-Nephew, because his Uncle being willing to do them the Honour of being the first to treat his Eminency, was preparing to invite him on the morrow. Giuliano was a little surprised, and blushed at this Question, by reason of the Coldness that was between his Brother and the Riario's on his account; however, he made answer, That his Brother had not as yet spoke to him of it, expecting the Cardinal-Nephew to tarry some time at Florence; but that nevertheless they would that Night discourse the Point together. And indeed, Lorenzo had no sooner notice that the Pazzi were to entertain the Cardinal-Nephew, but he thought it behoved his Honour to be beforehand with them. He took his Measures with his Brother for that purpose, and gave the necessary Orders towards the preparation of a magnificent Feast in the House of Frejola, which he judged more commodious than his other Seats of Pleasure. The Cardinal-Nephew was invited, his Day asked, and he obliged to appoint it, after he had for a long while very handsomely excused his so doing; and Giuliano de Medici let Francisco Pazzi know it.  
The Conspirators made all ready with so much the more ease, in that the very Persons they meant to assassinate, furnished them in the nick of time with all the Precautions they needed to keep, by informing them after what manner Lorenzo de Medici pretended to do the Honours of his House. But the Day being come, Giuliano was seized with such a Defluxion upon his Eyes, and with so troublesome an Overflowing of Phlegm upon the Stomach, that it was impossible for him to quit his Bed. Lorenzo, seeing his Mien strangely altered, was far from pressing him to rise; but sent for the Physicians, and conjured them to have a care of a Health that was no less precious to him than his own, taking Horse immediately, to get to Frejola, before the Company he was there to entertain.  
He came out to meet the Cardinal, and accosting him with a Countenance on which something sad was easy to be discerned, he begged his Pardon for being there alone to pay him that Office. He accused the Accident that had befallen his Brother; he expressed his Circumstances in such Terms, as almost madded the Conspirators, as acquainting them by what whimsical Adventure Fortune had robbed them of one of their Victims. But as there was no remedy, they were forced to compose their Looks like Men who had no other Thoughts than those of Recreation. At the very first they had agreed not to execute their Enterprise by halves, because that one of the two Brothers remaining alive, would have been sufficient to maintain the Advantages of his House in the Republic of Florence. Thus, the Pazzi's having a little recollected themselves from the Amazement in which they were plunged by Giuliano's absence, had nothing else to do, than dispatch one of their Accomplices to the Archbishop of Pisa, to let him know the Disappointment, that so there might be no unseasonable and ineffectual Commotions in the City.  
The Feast at Frejola was very Magnificent, and Lorenzo de Medici spared nothing of what might serve to persuade the Cardinal-Nephew into an Opinion of the profound Respect he had for the Pope, notwithstanding all past Transactions. The Cardinal-Nephew, who knew nothing of the Personage he was put upon acting, had the less trouble to commend the Delicacy of the Meats, and the Exactness wherewith they were served. The Conspirators were not able to constrain themselves with so much Artifice, but that it would have been easy for Lorenzo to observe that they were extremely unhinged, if his solicitude for his Brother's Illness had left him all the freedom of Mind that was natural to him, and if he had had less application to what he did. He acquitted his Share of it with much politeness, and the Cardinal-Nephew departed from Frejola, equally satisfied with the Courtesy and Good Cheer of his Harbinger.  
By this Disappointment the Conspirators were not discouraged from their Attempt: And as Giuliano's Fluxion was spent in a few days, they fancied his Brother and he would not fail of being on the Sunday following, the twenty sixth of April, at the Great Church, tho' it were only to accompany the Cardinal-Nephew, who meant to see its Ceremonies. Upon this, they framed a second Project, for the assassinating the two Brothers de Medici in the Temple. The Impiety of the Plot, besides the Majesty of the Place, could not be more execrable; since they took for a Signal the august moment of the most awful among the Christian Mysteries; I mean, the time when the Priest should lift up the Host. Then Antonio Volterra, and the Governor of the young Princes Pazzi, called Signiore Stephano, engaged to kill Lorenzo de Medici with their Poigniards, while Francisco Pazzi and Bernardo Bandini should by the same Course dispatch Giuliano. The Archbishop of Pisa, followed by Giacopo Poggio, Son to the Tutor of the two Brothers de Medici, and accompanied by the greatest number of the Conspirators, and all Salviati's Kindred, that were in great Consideration, undertook to seize at the same time the Townhouse, under pretext of visiting Cesare Petruzzi, who lodged there in Quality of Gonfaloniere. And old Giacopo Pazzi, at the very instant he should have word brought him of the two Brother's Death, was to take Horse, adorned with his Collar, and march directly to the principal Place, where all the Friends of his Family should wait for him in the posture of Armed Men, to afford Assistance to the Archbishop of Pisa, if he stood in need of any, against the Townhouse.  
For the better security, Francisco Pazzi would needs know of Giuliano de Medici, whether his Brother and he would not be at the Temple; and Giuliano made him answer, That they would not fail of paying their Attendance. And indeed, the Hour and Day being come, Lorenzo was there one of the first, as designing to receive the Sacraments of Penitence and the Fucharist: and the two Men appointed to assassinate him, went and planted themselves by him. But they had already begun to sing the Anthems Introductory to the Mass, when as Giuliano did not yet appear; whether his Good Genius had made him change his Design, or that he had spent too much time in Dressing: The Conspirators were very uneasy on this account, and they already fancied their Enterprise disappointed, because that failing the second time, it was morally impossible to keep it secret, considering the multitude of those that were privy to the Plot: When that Francisco Pazzi bethought himself of a Trick, which accordingly did his Business. He took his Companion Bandini along with him, and scoured immediately to Giuliano's Apartment-door. They found him busy a curling his Hair, and saluted him with a Countenance that could be neither more jocund, nor more calm. They checked him after a merry, gay, and facetious manner, for his Sloth; and Francisco Pazzi taking him aside, told him, his Mistress was at Church, so beauteous, and well dressed, as challenged the ogling of all the young Gentlemen. This Hint entirely vanquished Giuliano's Resistance, and surmounted the last Obstacle that his good Daemon interposed to his Misfortune. He made ready with all diligence; and those two Murderers, under pretence of seconding his Impatience, served him for Valets de Chambre. Then they took him under the Arms, and conducted him in that posture to the Church, where they were no sooner arrived, but the Priest lift up the Adorable Host, and unwittingly gave a Signal expected by the Conspirators, for the committing the most hideous of Sacrileges.  
Pazzi and Bandini stabbed Giuliano to death with their Poigniards, and did the like to Nori his Domestic, as he was going to draw his Sword. Lorenzo had not come off at a cheaper rate, had the others fallen upon him at the same Instant: But as his Murderers were not so diligent as his Brother's, whom he already perceived they had Poigniarded, that sad Spectacle made him draw his Dagger with his Right Hand, and wrap up his Left Arm in his Cloak. When he was attacked by Antonio de Volterra, and by Steffano the Priest, he defended himself with a Presence of Mind that wrought his Safety: For, tho' at the very first he received a Wound in the Neck, from whence there gushed a great deal of Blood, he parryed so long, that his Friends, who being backed by some courageous Priests, had the leisure to join him, and cant him into a Vestry, that was accidentally open, shutting the Door upon him before Bandini could reach him, who ran after to dispatch him outright. In the mean while, the Archbishop of Pisa came to the Townhouse, and asked to speak with the Gonfaloniere. The Porter made answer, He had order to let no Christian in, for that the Gonfaloniere was newly set down to Dinner with the Captains of the Wards, whom he had invited. The Archbishop was a little startled at this Accident, which he had not foreseen; and making use of the first Shame that came into his Head, he replied to the Porter, That he must necessarily speak with the Gonfaloniere at that very instant, as bringing him Orders from the Pope, that could not be one moment deferred. The Porter did so much the more easily believe what the Archbishop told him, in that he saw an extraordinary Attendance; and without making further Reflection, went to tell the Gonfaloniere, That the Archbishop of Pisa had a Brief to deliver him from his Holiness. The Gonfaloniere thought it very strange, that this Prelate should come and importune him at a time, when People are not wont to treat of Serious Matters. However, as it was unhandsome to deny him Admittance, he risen from Table, went to receive him, and led him into an Upper Room. This was done so in a trice, because the Gonfaloniere was afraid of making his Guests wait, that the Archbishop had not the leisure either to resolve in himself, or to agree with his Accomplices, after what manner he should back the Lie they had paumed upon the Porter. From thence it came, that when the Gonfaloniere, after the first Compliments, asked him for the Brief he brought from the Pope, he not only made no positive Answer, but furthermore, the Crime he was involved in presenting itself then to his Imagination, with all its Blackness, disturbed him in such manner, that he could not forbear blushing and turning pale at the same time, nor showing by frightful Looks, and a stammering ruffled Speech, part of what he had in his Mind.  
Then the Gonfaloniere, a Man exceeding distrustful, (as are commonly all Florentines) suspected that Ambuscades were laid for him; and leaving the Prelate dumb and astonished, rushed out of the Chamber, to call the Soldiers which the Republic maintained for the Guard of his Person, and of the Town-House. Poggio, who went in with the Archbishop, would have withheld the Gonfaloniere; but this Magistrate being stronger than he, knocked him down with his First, and made but two Leaps to get into the Dining-room, and give his Guests notice to seek their Safety in the Dungeon. He made them pop into it, and stood upon the Steps, to defend and ward the Passage with a Spit, which mere Hazard put into his Hands.  
The Conspirators that attended the Archbishop, out of respect stayed all at the bottom of the great Staircase, except Poggio, who had taken him under the Arms, to help and usher him up; and had divided themselves into the Hall of the first Story, which served for the Meetings of the respective City-Companies or Guilds, for fear their Multitude should give Umbrage, if they were perceived all together. Whereupon, a Circumstance is to be remarked, which having been omitted by the Florentine Historians, renders their Narration obscure and defectuous; namely, That the Gonfaloniere's, when they entered upon the Magistracy, were wont to cause all the Wards of the Townhouse Locks to be changed: And Cesare Petruzzi, who had then that Character, and valued himself upon being an Engineer, had caused them to be made with so much Artifice, that the Doors, upon the least touch, shut of themselves, but could not be opened without the Keys, which by consequence remained ever tied to the Porter's Girdles.  
Thus, in the very moment that the Gonfaloniere called for Help with an hideous Outcry, the Hall-doors of the first Story came to be shut up, and the Conspirators caught (as it were) in a Trap. The People, naturally inclined to Superstition, were afterwards persuaded that the thing happened miraculously; and Lorenzo de Medici did not trouble his Head much to undeceive them, because it was for his advantage, that his Countrymen were of opinion, that Heaven concerned itself most visibly in preserving the Race of Medici. But it's more safe to attribute the Cause of this Event either to some one of the Gonfaloniere's Domestics, who having his Mind less possessed with Fear than his Comrades, bethought himself of pulling to the Doors; or to the Tumult which arose in the Townhouse, sufficiently great to make upon the Doors a Motion capable of shutting of themselves; or to the Conspirators, who at that very instant they heard the Gonfaloniere call out to Arms, imagined they were betrayed, that their Conspiracy was discovered, that the Archbishop of Pisa was a Prisoner, and that People were coming to them to seize upon their Persons. Thus the Care of their own Preservation, banishing from their Minds the Design of making thmselves Masters of the Town-Hall, they now thought of nothing but of barricadoing, and making a stout Defence, till their Companions, who were in the great Church, having massacred the two Medici's, or those that were to secure the Public Place under the Orders of Chevalier Pazzi, could run to disengage them.  
Not to determine any thing in this Case, There they remained, cooped up, till Lorenzo de Medici, having been taken out of the Vestry, where the Priests had bound up his Wound, was brought back to his own House, by a great multitude of People, of all the Orders of the City, and principally of the Mobile. From thence he caused himself to be carried to the Town-House, where all the Magistrates were immediately convened. Not very long was the Deliberation, because the Medici's Friends having had the leisure to send unto all Parts, to inform the Citizens of what occurred, they had exaggerated Giuliano's Murder, and the Peril with which the Commonweal was threatened, with Terms so pathetic, that the whole Town had taken Arms, and the Boldest had seized on all Avenues of the Guild Hall, setting Guards in the Great Place which was before it. Thus, there was nothing else heard from all Parts, than a Confusion of Voices, which demanded a good and speedy Justice: And as it was not in the least to be deferred, without seeing the Great Gate shut up by the number of those who offered themselves to serve for Executioners, the Magistrates caused Ropes to be fastened to the Bars of the Windows, where the unhappy Poggio was the first hanged, and then the other Plotters; who seeing on one side the Fury of the People extraordinarily animated against them, and the Doors broke down by Order of the present Magistrates, yielded themselves up on Discretion, because they could not do otherwise, at least without killing one another.  
Never Spectacle was so hideous, and yet never Spectacle wrought less Compassion. The Malefactor was scarce half strangled, when they cut the Rope for him, to make room for another; the Body fell down, and the People immediately tore it to pieces. Not a Man of them was exempt from the Punishment; and all the Favour that was shown to the most Illustrious among the Accomplices, was to execute them the last. Francisco Pazzi, the Author of the Conspispiracy, who had wounded himself dangerously in striking Giuliano de Medici, could not get out of the Town, and was fain to hid himself in his Uncle's House, where he was discovered by a Maid, and was conducted to the Town-House.  
The Curious observed, That he spoke not so much as one word, and there appeared not any Mark of Reluctance in his Countenance, but only the Signs of a most disdainful and lofty Fierceness. He was hanged at the Window that is just above the great Gate, and there immediately appeared the Archbishop of Pisa to keep him Company. They first induced him to discover the whole Train of the Conspiracy, and to write it down, and sign it with his own Hand; which that Prelate was prevailed with to do, upon a belief, that the Magistrates coming to be moved by this Effect of Condescendency, would show respect to his Character, and abate something of their Severity. Yet he was served like the rest; and whether they had a mind to add a peculiar Infamy to the Punishment that was common to him with his Accomplices; or, the ardour of the Hangman that executed him was too great to examine what he did; or, in short, that they were glad to put that Affront upon the Court of Rome, in order to punish it at least in that manner, for having been fingering in so detestable an Action: This unfortunate Prelate was noosed up in the Pontifical Robes he chanced to have on. The nearest Spectators of his Execution observed, That when he was turned off, he fastened his Teeth in Pazzi's Body that hung at the next Bar, and bitten his left Pap with so much fury, that the Executioner had much ado to make him let go his hold.  
His Brother, and Cousin-german, who went both by the Name of Giacopo Salviati, were trussed up by him: but the old Chevalier Pazzi, advancing into the Public Place, to raise and mutiny the People, seeing they listened to him no otherwise than by way of derision, and began already to surround him, and pelt him with Stones from off the Houses tops, spurred on his Horse, that was indeed a vigorous Steed, made his way through, and got happily out through the Gate della Cruse: But he retiring towards the Mountains, and having no Money about him, was constrained at two days end to take Refuge in a Cottage, to get some Food, and sell his Horse. He was known by the Peasant he addressed himself to; and that Man being not altogether rustic and dull, immediately harboured a Design upon the Person of his Guest, for the gaining the Reward which the Magistrates had appointed for him that should bring him in. He received him with great appearance of Humanity, and made him the best Cheer he could. He persuaded him to stay in the same Place, while he went to sell his Horse; but in stead of performing what he promised, he went and discovered him to the Magistrates of Florence, who sent immediately to take him up. His Process was performed in the wont Formality: and ●●ttering himself with the same Hopes that made the Archbishop of Pisa reveal all the Secrets of the Conspiracy, he confirmed that Prelate's Deposition, and added thereto the Names of the Accomplices, and the Share that each had had in it. In a word, he did all that Cunning and a base Pusilanimity inspired him with, to save his Life: But when he saw that they proceeded, however, to condemn him to the Gallows, and that they sent him a Priest to prepare him for Death, he laid aside the Masque, and would not hearken to any other Sentiments than those which Corrupted Nature suggests to Mad and Desperate Persons. He obstinately refused to die as a Christian, and died invoking the Devil. Yet the Magistrates were not wanting to see him buried in a Church in Florence, where his Ancestors had been Interred; but the Rabble, whose Fury was augmented by the last Contempt which the Malefactor showed to the Holy Sacraments, unearthed his Body, and threw it in the Laystall; from whence Justice caused it to be taken, and secretly buried in a Churchyard: But this only served to renew the Tumult; for, discovering the Place where he was, they opened the Ditch with their Nails, took out his Carcase, dragged it along the Streets, and after the men were grown weary of disfiguring it, they abandoned it to Children, who threw it into the River Arno.  
Rinato Pazzi, his Cousin, was no more happy, tho' he had a less dangerous Commission. He had taken upon him to make the Peasants of Mugello revolt; but those Bumpkins tied him Hand and Foot, brought him to the Townhouse, where he found his Process made, and the Hangman ready to execute it. Of all the Conspirators, only the brave Montesecco had the favour of being put to death after a less infamous manner.  
Montesecco, one of the gallantest Men of Italy, espoused Riario's Interests, and only out of compliance to him had a hand in the Conspiracy. He promised to Poigniard Lorenzo de Medici at the Feast of Frejola; but the Execution having been put off, he fell by chance into Conversation with this Lorenzo, and was so charmed with his Perfections, that he refused to kill him, under the shift, that when he had given his Word, 'twas only to commit an Homicide, by assassinating a Man in his House; and not an execrable Sacrilege, by profaning the Altars with his Blood. His Excuse was allowed of, because the young Pazzi's Tutor offered his Service to supply his Place: And as he was neither in the Great Church, nor in the Townhouse, he had the better Conveniency of making his Escape; but he could not so soon take Refuge in the State of the Church, but that the Garrison of Radicosano stopped him upon the way, and sent him with a strong Guard to Florence, where he had his Head struck off.  
Seigniore Stefano and Antonio de Volterra, who were to have assassinated Lorenzo de Medici, having thus missed their aim, thought it high time to slip out of the Church in the beginning of the Fray; and while those who assisted at the Mass were too much terrified, and too busy about Giuliano's Body, and Lorenzo's Person, to mind the Murderers, they stole softly to the Door, and made their Escape to a Monastery, where they were received by the Religious, who three days abstained discovering them, whether they took pity of them, or would thereby maintain their Convent in the Right of Sanctuary, which they pretended to have obtained from Popes and Emperors. But the Magistrates ordered a general Search throughout the City, which was performed with so much exactness, that the said Seigniore Stefano and his Companion were drawn out of the Place where they thought they were in Safety, and conducted to Punishment.  
All the Pazzi's Relations, all their Allies, nay, and all those that had any Engagement with them, were clapped up in Prison, tho' there was not any Proof against them; and Guglielmo de Pazzi was confined for all his Life long to a Village, notwithstanding he had married Lorenzo de Medici's Sister, and that this Virtuous Lady had thrown herself at her Brother's and the Magistrates Feet, to obtain, that her Husband might remain free, since he had been wholly cleared by all the Depositions of the Accomplices. This was somewhat an extraordinary thing, that in so great a number of Conspirators, there was but one that could get out of the Dominions of Florence, without being seized; and this very Person that escaped, was the most culpable of all.  
It's well enough known, that I mean Bandini. This Assassinate had not been so very much blinded with the Promises of Impunity, wherewith Riario had soothed his Accomplices, as not to provide for the Security of his Person in case of necessity. He had borrowed from his Friends, and from those who engaged him in the Conspiracy, considerable Sums, which he put into Venetian Merchants Hands, for the receiving them in Constantinople six Months afterwards. Moreover, his Man waited for him near the Great Church, with a Horse of Value; and some Banditti's of his Acquaintance were walking in the Porch, to make him way, and favour his Escape.  
With these Precautions, he alone did more than all the other Conspirators together: He first bored Giuliano de Medici with a Poigniard, thrust under the Left Pap; and seeing that Pazzi stood obstinately giving him an hundred Stabs when dead, he left him to enjoy so ridiculous a Revenge, and turning towards Nori, Giuliano's Domestic, he plunged his Dagger into his small Guts; then turned his Eyes towards Lorenzo, in the very moment he was saving himself in the Vestry, all wounded as he was. After having rid his Hands of those two Murders, he ran likewise to dispatch him, and had got up so near him, that he would have effected his Purpose, but for the Address of an Ecclesiastic, who repulsing Bandini with his Crosier-Staff, while Lorenzo entered, after having shut the Door with so much precipitation, that Bandini had not the leisure to put his Foot within, soon enough to hinder it.  
Lorenzo having thus avoided Death, Bandini stole slily away to the Church-door, from whence, by favour of those who waited for him there, he reached the Street, and mounting his Horse, got out of the Gate della Cruse, and in stead of taking the way to the State of the Church, by which he foresaw they would infallibly pursue him, he fled towards the Sea, where he ran less risk of being known, because the Country was less frequented, principally in the State of Sienna. And indeed, he got safe to Corneto, a Port depending on that Republic, where, by a lucky adventure, he found a Ship ready to set sail to the Levant. Embarking in this Ship, his Voyage was crossed neither by Pirates nor by Tempest; but he arrived at Galata, where he received the Money due upon the Bills of Exchange. He pitched on that City for his Abode, where he had already almost settled, when he saw himself exposed to the Punishment he thought he had avoided.  
Lorenzo de Medici's Factors discovered him in Galata, notwithstanding all his Care to conceal his Person; and as they had Access to Cady Bashaw the First Visier, they represented to him, That the Sultan his Master was too just, to suffer any longer in his Dominions the most Criminal of Mankind; That it was blazed about in Christendom, That his Highness had shown an Horror upon hearing the Circumstances of the Pazzi's Conspiracy; and that it was not doubted, but he had so much Goodness, as to refuse his Protection to a Man who had been its Principal Executioner. This Remonstrance being attended with Presents capable of affecting a self-interessed Person, as was the Grand-Vizier, had all the Success intended. Cady Bashaw motioned the Business to the Sultan, at that time Bajazet the Second, and made him resolve not only to drive Bandini out of his Empire, but likewise to deliver him up to the Florentines.  
It was said, That what made him proceed in this manner, was to acquire Reputation among Strangers, and give them a famous Example of the singular Virtue he valued himself upon, which was that of exterminating Parricides. They added, That he was willing to lay hold on the Occasion, to show to all the Earth, how much he honoured Lorenzo de Medici's Merit, which was already famed in the three known Parts of the Universe.  
But those who pried into the Counsels of the Divan, conceived another Opinion of this Result. They reckoned, that Bajazet did in this, as in all other weighty Occasions, follow blindly the Sentiments that were suggested to him by his Prime Vizier. And that Emperor's Son, Selim the First, seemed since to confirm this Opinion, when being asked, Why he did not wear a long Beard, like his Father? he said, 'Twas for fear the Bashaws, taking him by it, would lead him where they listed.  
There was likewise more Mystery in this Turkish Civility, than appeared at the first Blush, to those who made Reflection upon the two Fleets which the Pope had sent the Years foregoing against the Turks. They easily imagined, that Bajazet being informed of the Secret of Pazzi's Conspiracy, and having no other Means then to revenge the Affront he had received, his Fleet not daring to stir out of the Ports where it was, so long as that of the Christians watched it); that Bajazet; I say, had delivered up Bandini, in hopes, that being put to the Rack, he would depose against the Sovereign Pontiff, and thus render him contemptible to all Christians.  
Be it as it will, Bandini was put into Irons, and conveyed to Florence, where he was hanged at the same Window as Pazzi his Companion, tho' long after. However, the Turks had not the Satisfaction they expected, of seeing the Pope defamed, because Bandini's Process was kept so secret by the Commissioners, who sat Judges in the Case, that there is not any Light remaining of it.  
After a Period was put to the Executions, and that Lorenzo de Medici was cured of his Wound, he caused stately Obsequies to be performed for his Brother Giuliano, in the midst whereof there happened this Adventure. A young Lady, that Giuliano had kept, pretended to be his Wife, and declared herself with Child by him: Fifty days after was she brought to Bed of a Son, that was mighty like him; and for this Reason perhaps it was, that Lorenzo caused him to be Baptised by the Name of Giulio de Medici, without explaining farther, whether he owned him for a Bastard, or for Legitimate. He was brought up with the Cardinal his Cousin-german, and succeeded him in the Popedom, by the Name of Clement the Seventh.  
Then Lorenzo making a particular Reflection on the Misfortune that had befallen him, found it much greater than at first he had imagined. He considered it as to its Rise; and seeing that those who had drawn up the Platform of the Pazzi's Conspiracy, might employ against him the Power and Authority of the Holy See, he judged it became him to make Provision against them beforehand, for fear of being oppressed. For this Reason it was, that foreseeing what the Riario's would do in process of time, by what they had already done, he would before all things bereave them of the Means of covering their Purposes with the Cloak of Religion, when they levelled them against him. He conjured his Friends, as soon as ever he had avoided the first Fury of the Assassinates, to take a peculiar Care of the Person of the Cardinal-Nephew, and sent them to disengage him, before he stirred out of the Vestry.  
They found the young Spark upon the Foot of the Great Altar, in the posture of a Person expecting Death, and was preparing Christianly to receive it. The ecclesiastics, who were little less terrified than the Cardinal, had however bethought themselves to sorround him, and to make him a Rampart of their own Bodies. Much ado had they to get him thence, because the People, who fancied him culpable, already thronged to tear him piece-meal; and the Magistrates were forced to send their own Guards to his Rescue, and yet would not have been able to have effected it, but by feigning, that their Order was to conduct the Cardinal to the Townhouse, there to suffer the same Punishment as the other Conspirators: But they carried him into the same Palace where he had lodged since his Arrival at Florence. They so carefully watched all its Avenues, that his Eminence and his Domestics could not suffer any Insult, during seven or eight days, which the Florentines passed in an horrible agitation.  
Lorenzo de Medici's Precaution did not end with doing the Cardinal-Nephew important Offices in what regarded his Person; but he likewise saved his Reputation, in a Juncture when it seemed impossible to exempt it from Tarnish. He suppressed all the Charges and Informations that concerned him and his Brother Riario. He favoured the Rumour which was spread about, That his young Eminency was wholly ignorant of the Plot. He drew up a kind of Declaration from the Accomplices, authorised by the Council of Eight, who had instructed their Process. In a word, he sent to make him from time to time very humble Excuses, for that he was barred of his Liberty, during the Tumult; and went to pay him a Visit, as soon as all was calm and hush again in Florence.  
As for what regarded the Pope, Lorenzo de Medici writ to his Holiness in Terms altogether respectful. He craved the Republics and his own Pardon, for the Discontents the Cardinal-Nephew received on his account. He justified himself, tho' no body accused him. He desired, that the Memory of it might be abolished, and mentioned not in the Letters either his own Wound, or his Brother's Blood, for fear he might seem to harbour Resentment. In a word, he courted Riario's Friendship, by a stroke of Politic Prudence, not then in use. He made all the Paces for it, and made them with an Air that showed neither Fear nor Distrust. He stayed the Orsini's, upon the point of their departing to go and desolate the Principality of Forli. He took upon him to mediate between them a solid Reconciliation. He assured him, that the Florentines would no longer concern themselves in the Conservation of the Petty Sovereigns of Romagna, when the Pope should have a mind to ruin them. And for the utmost Mark of Confidence, he offered to go to Rome upon his Holinesses Parole, for the labouring by Word of Mouth to destroy the dangerous Impressions that had been given him to his prejudice, without pretending from him any Boon, or for himself, or for his Friends, in consideration of that Journey.  
However, the Pope had not any regard either to Lorenzo's Submission, or to the Address wherewith he managed the Reputation of the Holy See, and the Honour of the Riario's, in so nice and Matter. He only viewed the Success of the Pazzi's Conspiracy, on the Side that could animate him most against a Person whom Heaven had so visibly protected, in stead of considering it on the Side most proper to whet his Indignation. He only suffered himself to be transported by the Motions suggested to him by Spite, for having missed his Aim; and thenceforward only harkened to this Chimerical Reason, namely, That the only Means to cover the Fault he had committed, was to pursue it to the end. He fancied, that his coming to a Reconciliation with Lorenzo, would at least be tacitly owning his having had a Hand in the Conspiracy contrived for his Ruin: And that, on the contrary, by declaring War upon him, and attacking him with open Force, he would hid, in some manner, the Fox's Skin under that of the Lion, or fill at least People's Minds with so vast an Idea, and so capable of possessing them by a multitude of Events, which the Sword is wont daily to produce, that they would have no leisure to think of what had passed afore.  
Upon this Presupposition, the Pope followed the Counsel given him by Riario, to levy Troops and not embroil himself a second time in an Enterprise whose Success might prove contrary to his expectation, by Contingencies his Holiness could not foresee; he resolved to take his Measures so well, for the Ruin of Lorenzo de Medici, that Fortune, that had so signally declared in his behalf, should be constrained to abandon him in spite of her teeth. This made the Pope send the shrewdest of his Emissaries, called Stefano Noirdi, to the King of Naples. And that he might be disposed to practise all his Tricks and Artifices, he had a Cardinal's Cap promised him, if he effected his Negotiation. He was given in Charge to represent to this King, That the Honour of his Crown was too far engaged in the Destruction of the Florentines, to leave them at Peace, since the Conspiracy, wherein the Duke of Calabria his Son had tampered, was discovered; and to suffer that the Lie should rest with him; That this young Prince being arrived upon the Frontiers of Tuscany with a brave Army, it ought to be put into Action, tho' it were only to prevent its ruining its self in Sloth, and becoming contemptible by an ignominous Retreat; That it would have been expedient the Duke of Calabria had not advanced so soon; but that Step being made, there was no means of going back; That the Florentines seeing him resolved to subdue them, would acquiesce perhaps out of Prudence, and submit to the Destiny which then they would look on as inevitable; whereas if he made a Halt, after having menaced so highly, the Florentines would harbour an insupportable Presumption, and the other Petty Potentates of Italy, after their Example, would insensibly be accustomed to despise the Crown of Naples, for which they afore had Deferences little different from Subjection.  
These Reasons were too feeble to move so old a Prince, and by consequence so near his Death, as was the King of Naples. The Blood that thrilled in his Veins, was too cold, to be fired by so small a matter: And Fame was no longer a Good he minded the husbanding, since the most Considerable of his Subjects had aspersed it with such bloody public Reproaches, that it was no longer possible to repair it. Thus Nardi changed his Design, as soon as he had felt his Pulse, and pretending to have received new Orders from Rome, demanded Audience, and proposed the Conquest of the State of Florence, on condition it should be achieved with the Arms of the Holy See, and those of Naples, both obeying one and the same General; That this General should be the Duke of Calabria, and that the War should be carried on at the Pope's Charge only; That Riario should be put into possession of Florence as soon as it was taken, but that he should make Oath to the King of Naples, and be bound to hold it of him, as a Fief depending on his Crown.  
The King of Naples had no more regard to this second Proposition, than to the former; and Nardi was upon the point of returning to Rome, without having made any Progress in his Pursuits, when an unforeseen Accident concluded his Negotiation to his Advantage. The Orsini's, unable to remain in Peace, since they were secured of a Retreat in Tuscany with their Brother-in-Law, took the Field; and without considering either the Prohibitions of stirring under any Lure whatever, which they had had from the Pope, or the Protection granted them, and the Stem of Colonna, by the King of Naples, had laid waste all the Territories of that House. Their Boldness was augmented by the little Resistance they had met with in their Design, and by the great number of Adventurers flocking from all Parts, to reinforce their Troops. They had taken the Castles by main might, and reduced the Fortresses to Capitulate, without excepting that of Palliano. The Colonnesi being surprised all they could do was to retire to Naples, their wont Asyle, where their Interests engaged them to become Solicitors of the Pope's Affairs with the King: For, as they foresaw, that it would be impossible for them to recover their Places, at least without procuring such a Diversion on the Side of Tuscany, as should constrain the Orsini's to go to the Succour of their Brother-in-Law, they concerted their Measures with Nardi, set a going in his favour all their Intrigues; they wrought the Duke of Calabria to write to his Father, in Terms which promised that the Reduction of Florence should cost but some few days Siege, and that they would oblige themselves to bring thither their Friends as soon as they had recovered their Lands; and thus reduced the King of Naples to serve as an Implement to the Pope's Revenge, and the Riario's Ambition.  
The End of the Second Book.   

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS. The Third Book.  
COmmissioner Nardi had no sooner adjusted with the King of Naples the Conditions I have mentioned, than the Duke of Calabria declared War against the Republic of Florence, with the Formalities then in use; that is to say, He sent to defy her by an Herald, in the Name of the Pope, and the King his Father. He prescribed her the time wherein she should prepare for her Defence, and caused the Reasons he had to attack her, to be given her in Writing.  
These Reasons were all reduced to the Outrage the Holy See pretended to have received in the Person of the Cardinal-Nephew. The Constitutions of Popes were alleged, and the Privileges granted at divers times to the Sacred College. It was maintained, That the Ecclesiastic Purple rendered no less Illustrious, nor less Inviolable, the Persons invested with it, than the Secular. And they wrested from these Principles all that the Quirks of Schools was able to suggest in Passionate Divines, for the blackening the Honour of the Republic of Florence in general, and of Lorenzo de Medici in particular.  
They urged, That the Pazzi's Conspiracy had been contrived only to oppress the Cardinal-Nephew; That the time of his Journey to Florence was designedly chosen; That the extraordinary Honours that had been done him, were only to Will-i'th'-wisp him the more easily into the Precipice; That they had spared him in the Feast of Frejola, for that Giuliano de Medici could not be of the Party; and that his sudden Departure pressing the Accomplices to hasten the Blow, they had made no scruple of attempting it in the Choir of the Great Church, and in presence of the Holy Sacrament; That the Cardinal-Nephew was solely indebted for his Life to the Resolution the ecclesiastics had shown, of exposing their own, that they might preserve his, by putting themselves in a Posture, wherein each made him a Buckler of his own Body; That the single Necessity to which the Assassinates saw they were reduced of cutting the Throats of so many Persons, before they meddled with that they aimed at, had hindered them from proceeding further; That the Cardinal Nephew was not fetched from the Church, till the Magistracy of Florence did not think it seemly to leave him any longer amidst the Slaughter; That he had only changed the Danger, by going out of the Cathedral; That the Guards that attended him, under the Shame of re-encouraging him, had had Order to hinder him from escaping, before they had consulted anew, whether they should attempt again upon his Life; That the Railleries', Upbraid, Imprecations, he had every moment heard, were as so many Testimonies of it; and, That, finally, tho' the Florentines did determine to suffer him to return to Rome, 'twas not that they had repent of their detestable Project, but only because those who were less impetuous than others, had made reflection, that all Europe would take up Arms to revenge this Crime, which would not have had any Example among Christians, if they suffered it to be Crowned with the Death of a Cardinal-Nephew.  
The time the Duke of Calabria had given the Florentines, served the Court of Rome to finish the Procedures that were to be used, before pronouncing the Interdict. The Cardinal-Nephew made his Complaint, and the Witnesses were heard. The Florentines were thrice cited, but for Forms sake only, it being pretended, their Crime was too notorious, to have need of Confrontation. And the Censures were thundered our, before the Republic had thoughts of making her Defence. Her State was given up to Spoil, and the Duke of Calabria named Commissioner to execute the Sentence.  
Nothing of all this startled Lorenzo de Medici, as having expected it, when the Pope rejected his Excuses. But he had occasion for all his Prudence, and his Authority in Florence, and in the other Cities of its Dependency, to dispose the People to suffer the Interdict without murmuring: For this kind of Lightning was so dreaded in all Parts of the Christian World, that the being struck with it, was sufficient to become execrable to all the Faithful. They did not trouble their Noddles with considering whether it was just or no: And People's minds were so prepossessed with this Maxim, That the Punishments of Hell were inseparable from the Thunders of the Vatican, for what Couses soever they were darted, that Armies of Sixty thousand good Soldiers had been seen to desert their General in a Night, and whole Nations revolt against their Sovereigns, by so general a Defection, that he had left him neither Subject nor Domestic.  
Thus Lorenzo did not make it his Business to combat the Sentiment of the Vulgar, tho' he wanted not Reasons, and that the Pulpiteers had past their Word to Preach in his favour. He took a shorter, and a less bewildered way; and without speaking of the Authority, or of the Justice of the Person who had thrown the Thunder, he endeavoured to evade it, by showing, that it departed from a more near, and a less respectuous Hand. He rejected all the Fault of the Interdict upon Riario, the Pope's Nephew: And communicating to the Florentines what there was against him in the Informations of the last Attempt, he fully convicted him to have been its Author.  
Afterwards he proceeded farther: And having perceived, that the People began to ferment, he discovered to them all the Particularities, which served to show, that Riario's Design had been principally to usurp the State of Florence. He spoke of the Enterprise of Tiserno, when the Ambition of this Nephew of the Pope had flamed out the last time; of the Reduction of Spoleto, where he had settled a Garrison capable of inspiring Jealousy to its Neighbours; of the Conquest of Forli, without having other Right than 
* Bienscance.  Conveniency; and of the pretended Purchase of Immola, which he was forced to traverse by all manner of ways. From these four Principles, Lorenzo inculcated to the People, That Riario had drawn near Tuscany with no other intent, than to become its Masters. He made them remark, That the Pazzi's had not conspired against their Country to become its Tyrants, seeing they had not taken any Precautions necessary for such a Design, and that Riario had not omitted the least; That he had been at the Charges of the Plot, exacted peculiar Engagements from the Persons concerned in't, administered Oaths to them, given the Principal Orders, and sent his Nephew to Florence to reap the Fruit of it, with which he had flattered his Head when he framed the Conspiracy. He added, That the said Riario having missed his Aim, endeavoured to effect it by Means, that were not the more lawful, tho' they were the less disguised; That possessing, as he did, the Pope's Heart and Ear, it should not be thought strange that he inspired him with Thoughts conformable to his detestable Project, or that he abused the Authority of the Church; but that he was to be resisted with the same firmness as Vitelli had exerted in Tiferno; and that if such a Petty Sovereign, who had hardly any other Right over his Country, than that which his Predecessors had acquired by the Remissness and Desertion of foregoing Popes, had not been wanting to make a brave Defence against the Forces of the Court of Rome, before he truckled; or of re-enti●ng upon the first Occasion that was offered, tho' he had surrendered the Place upon Capitulation, and had the Money paid him down on the Naib before his Evacuation; the Florentines, with much stronger Reason, aught to fight to the last Gasp, for the Conservation of a Liberty whereof they had been Peaceable Possessors for so many Ages, and which none had ever grudged or grappled with them for, before Riario.  
These Reasons being artificially insinuated among the People, rendered them in a few days capable of the Sentiments which Lorenzo was willing to inspire into them. They heard, without being ruffled, the Denunciations and Monitories of the Court of Rome, and did but rally at the Placarts that were posted up and down, to excite them to Sedition. They prepared for War with far less noise, and much more regularity, than when attacked by Coglione. And as States the most jealous of their Sovereignty, cannot dispense themselves sometimes from ceding it almost entirely to Particular Persons, in such an extraordinary difficult Juncture, there was a new Magistrature created in favour of Lorenzo, which was in nothing different from the Dictatorship of the Ancient Romans. They rendered him the Arbiter of the Life and Death of his Fellow-Citizens. They allowed him to put what Garrison he pleased into the Towns and Places, and abandoned to him even the Power which the Republic was wont to reserve to its own Management in such like Occasions, which consisted in augmenting the old, and laying on new Impositions.  
In this Dignity was it that Lorenzo found the Occasions to display the admirable Qualities he possessed for Government, and to put in practice what he had learned most refined upon this Subject. He took the Rudder in his Hand; but he took it in such manner, as showed, that he would restore it again as soon as the Storm was over. Whatever his Independence was on the other Magistrates, he was not wanting to communicate to them the most important Affairs, or to cause them to be executed according as they had been resolved on by Plurality of Voices. He did not depose so much as one of the Commissioners and Officers he found in Office. He remained satisfied with instructing and encouraging them to serve usefully their Country. In a word, he only reserved to his own performance the Drudgery and Prickles of Absolute Authority, and left the Roses to those whose Genius was more delicious, or less capable of Fatigue.  
He derived from this Conduct two great Advantages. The one, That there needed less time to give the subaltern Orders, which were executed with much more diligence and expedition by the ancient Magistrates, than they would have been by newer, through the possession they were in of procuring Obedience. The other was, That Lorenzo not being enforced to employ in Common Uses the Choice of his Friends, as he would have been constrained by a general Change of Officers, he was at liberty to send them to the Potentates of Italy, who had not yet any Engagement with his Enemies: Which he accordingly so succeeded in that the Republics of Venice and Genova, the Dukes of Milan and Vrbini, the Marquess' of Ferrara and Mantova, signed a Defensive League with the Florentines.  
I shall not stand describing the particular Transactions of that War; for besides, as they are not worthy of Remark, I am obliged to hint by the Buy, That it is the Business of a Writer of History, and not mine. I shall only say, That the most considerable. Succours which the Florentines received, came from Milan; and that their other Allies assisted them so feebly, that their Army was never in a state to keep the Field. That of the Duke of Calabria, composed of the Ecclesiastic Troops, and of those of Naples, invaded the Territory of Florence, where they found the Places of Importance too well provided, to be taken by any other means than that of a regular Siege.  
Yet it was not his Opinion to lay any at all; for he was so much the less assured of Success, as that the Florentines might easily, as soon as they had seen it, draw together the Troops they had dispersed in all the other Places, and form of them a Body capable of famishing the Besiegers, by retrenching their Victuals, or introducing into the Place besieged so great Succours, or such notable Refreshments, as that it would be a madness to continue the Siege. Moreover, the Summer was too near at hand, for the forming an Enterprise, which, according to all the Maxims of the Military Art, must end before the Heats began to be troublesome. And the Pope, who had bound himself to be at all the Charges of the War, had not a Fund to maintain it long, because the Revenues of St. Peter's Patrimony had been diminished by the Civil Wars between the Orsini's and Colonna's; from whence the Duke of Calabria had reason to foresee, that his Army would infallibly disband, if he engaged his Soldiers in a long Siege, without having the Means of furnishing to their Subsistence; and that, on the contrary, he might retain them for some Months under his Ensigns, by abandoning to them the open Country to pillage, and the little Places that were not able to make Defence.  
From thence it came, that the War was only made, properly speaking, upon the Hinds and Bumpkins, and that nought but Burroughs and Castles of Pleasure were forced during the Spring. The Summer succeeding, caused the Troops to return into Quarters of Refreshment, and produced Events capable of burying the House of Medici under the Ruins of its Country, if Lorenzo had not conjured down the Tempest, in the very moment it was going to pour down upon Both, by a Hit of Prudence, and consummated Generosity, which had not yet had any Example in Antiquity, and will not perhaps be imitated in future Ages.  
That I may be the better understood, necessary it is, that I inquire a little further into Things, tho' it cost me a Digression, and that I insinuate some Revolutions of the Dukedom of Milan, which occasioned those I mean to handle. Francisco Sforza seized on the Duchy of Milan by an Adventure equally Happy and Capricious. He was the Issue of the Concubinage of the Famous Sforza with a young Maiden of Cotignola, and had addicted himself to the Profession of Arms, wherein he was born. His Father was drowned in going to secure the Cities of Aquila. The Troops being destitute of that Leader, chose him for their Commander, tho' he was at that time but Twenty years of age. The Event justified their Election, and young Sforza relieved the Place, defeated the Besiegers, won a notable Battle, and through the highest Felicity caused Braccio to perish, who had been his Father's Rival, and mortal Enemy. This Success rooted his Reputation, and retained the old Soldiers under his Discipline. He led them to the Service of Milan's last Duke, of the Family of the Visconti's, and obliged by long Labours that Prince, who had no Legitimate Children, to give him his Bastard-Daughter in Marriage. At first he derived no other Advantage from this Match, than of possessing a Woman endowed with all the Graces of her own Sex, and all the Noble Qualities of ours; because his Father-in-Law was of so fickle a Humour, that he made every year a Will, by which he instituted him Heir of Milan, and nulled it as often to make a new one, which left after his Death his Subjects at liberty to choose a Sovereign, or to change their Government into a Commonwealth.  
But at last, the Duke dying at a time he was governed by his Daughter, and Sforza being in the same Conjuncture at the Head of an Army, which he commanded for the Duke against the Venetians, he led it on to Milan with so much diligence, that he prevented his Competitors, and engaged the People by this Surprise to own him for their Governor. Afterwards, his Valour made him overcome all those who pretended to dispossess him, while his Wife got him the Hearts of his new Subjects, by her obliging Humour, and the Charms of her Conversation. But dying of a Dropsy, at a time Galeazzo his eldest Son was going into France, to the Succour of Lewis the Eleventh, the News that young Prince received of his Death in his crossing Auvergne, constrained him to turn back immediately, and pass thorough the Territories of the Duke of Savoy in a disguised Habit. His Mother had caused the Milaneses to take the Oath of Allegiance to him: And the first Arms which the Piomonteses had experienced to their loss, had acquired him so great a Name, that none durst shock him afterwards.  
The profound Peace he since enjoyed, had so far engaged him in Luxury and Delights, that his Court was become a Seraglio; the Ladies of Quality were persuaded, that the abandoning their Persons to their Prince, was the doing nothing contrary to their Honour. But their Husbands were not of the same Opinion: And there were those among the Gentlemen of the Duke's Train, who on this score entertained the Design of assassinating him, namely, Andre Lampoguano, Carlo Visconti, and Geronimo Olgiati. Their Pretexts were, That Lampoguano had by Inheritance from his Ancestors a Manor holding of the Church of Cosmo, whereon the Bishop had entered, and the Duke refused to concern himself in the Business. Visconti unable to endure, that the Duke, not content with usurping the Duchy of Milan over those of his House, had moreover introduced Infamy into ●●is Family, by debauching his Sister, and prostituting her afterwards to his Gánimede. Olgiati set Brutus for his imitation, at the Solicitation of Monte his Tutor, animated for that the Duke had had him lashed and strappadoed, out of revenge for having whipped him in his Youth. The Duke was stabbed in St. Stephen's Church: And his Murderers, in stead of receiving the Applause they expected from the People, were dragged to Execution, after Lorenzo de Medici had delivered up one of them, who had taken Refuge in the Caverns of the Apennine. A Will was found of the Duke's, which left his eldest Son under the Guardianship of his Mother, on condition she should follow the Counsels of Simoneta. But Ludovico Sforza's Humour, the Child's Uncle, was too ambitious, to let a long Minority spin out, without endeavouring to gain by it. He at first disputed the Tutelage; and that not succeeding, he durst pretend, nay, and declare to some Persons, That the Duchy appertained to him, as being born when Francisco Sforza his Father was Sovereign; whereas his Brother Galeazzo popped into the World when the same Sforza was as yet in a private Capacity. This came to the Regent's Ears, who was advised to send away her Brother-in-Law.  
He withdrew to Pisa, from whence he formed in Milan so potent a Faction, that he wrought his Recall in despite of his Sister-in-Law: He expelled her, instated himself in the Possession of the Guardianship, caused Simoneta's Head to be struck off, got the Governor of the Castle to an Interview upon the Draw-bridge, seized his Person, had a Gallows set up, and a Wax-Candle lighted, with an Oath to have him hanged, if the Place was not delivered up into his Hands, before the Candle was spent. The Garrison being terrified, and touched with Compassion, opened the Gates; and Ludovico Sforza wanting Forces to maintain his Ground in a Station he had newly possessed himself of by such violent Courses, recalled the Milan-Troops which were gone to the Succour of the Florentines.  
Lorenzo de Medici was little less concerned at this Repeal, than if he had been struck with Thunder. He perfectly knew Ludovico Sforza's Genius, and did not doubt but that this Prince had such Designs as would control his giving any Assistance to his Neighbours. And as the Republic of Florence could not be without it in this Juncture, it was in the most inevitable and nearest Danger to which it had been exposed since Lorenzo had meddled in the Government.  
Her other Allies of Mantova, Ferrara, and Vrbini, were not in a capacity to relieve her. And as they had sent her only Troops, as thinking her capable of making Head against the Duke of Calabria, it was to be feared they would recall them, and make their Accommodation apart, as soon as they should perceive that Ludovico Sforza had set them the Example for so doing. For, in short, if that Prince cockered in his Mind the Design of making himself Duke, he was too cunning to attempt it, before he had gained at least two of the three Powers of Italy who might traverse it, namely, the Pope by his Censures, the King of Naples by his Authority, and the Venetians by their Neighbourhood. And indeed, as Lorenzo had Emissaries in all the Courts of Italy, he knew that Ludovico Sforza entertained a secret Agent to dispose King Ferrand to give him in Marriage the Princess his Daughter, who was to wed the young Duke of Milan when he was come to Age.  
Thus Lorenzo had reason to suppose, that the Succours of Milan would infallibly bilk the Florentines in their greatest need; and that if Sforza sent back Soldiers into Tuscany, it should be no longer as an Ally, but in quality of an Enemy, since he would not do it but for the obtaining by that Infidelity the Princess of Naples. However, it was no less indubitable, that the Defection of Sforza was going to open to the Duke of Calabria in few Months the Gates of Florence; for the Citizens of that Town, who had showed so much Courage at first, would begin to pant and stagger, as soon as they perceived that the Match was not equal, and would divide themselves into as many Factions as there were Persons of Quality, who wished a Change in the State, for the bettering their own Condition. Then there would be no longer any Citizen that would hazard his Life, or contribute to the Charges of the War, and Lorenzo must be reduced all alone to support the Burden, from which he was so much the more dissuaded by Prudence, as that he could not do it without ruining himself Root and Branch, if, after having pumped his Credit, and emptied his Purse by an excessive Expense, after having kept on foot whole Armies out of his own Coffers, he should nevertheless sink, and be involved under the Ruins of his Country, his House would have no longer a Fund to furnish to its Recovery from such a Calamity, as it had done in the time of Cosmo the Old, nor a Conveniency of taking Refuge in some Sanctuary, till such time as there was a return of Good-fortune: if he died in the Occasion, he would be accounted rash in the Judgement of Posterity; and if he preserved his Life, it would be only to spin it out, and finish it in Poverty, and to reunite in his Person the two most notable Adversities which can vanquish the Patience of a Man of Heart, viz. an Infamous Exile, with a Long Beggary.  
Whereas, if he used the same Policy which so well accommodated his Grandfather, and if, like him, he contented himself with hazarding his own Person, without consuming his Estate by a needless Expense; on the one side, no other Inconveniencies could befall him, than those which would be common to him with the other Florentines; and on the other, he would have Ressources for his House, which would be wholly peculiar to it. For, in what part of the World soever it should retire, after having been expelled Florence, it would there find a Stock to subsist on at ease, and in such an abundance, as would distinguish it from others, and make it be ever considered by the Florentines, that were under the same Misfortune, as alone capable of restoring them to their own Country on the first favourable Occasion. If he lost his Life in Banishment, his Wife, being wife and virtuous, would interess the Orsini's to take care of the Children he should leave under Age, in hopes of partaking with them the Administration of so many Riches; and if he survived to the Republic of Florence, he might retire to Venice, and there enjoy the Privileges of a Noble Venetian, which his Grandfather had acquired him, in expectation that one of those Revolutions, which never failed happening from time to time in Florence, should recall him thither with the same Advantages he went thence.  
These Considerations inspired Lorenzo with the Design of making his Accommodation in time. And tho' it was not impossible for him to conclude a particular Treaty, by which another less scrupulous would have made up his Account, he wisely judged, that it would be neither for his Honour, or Surety, to unhinge his own Interests from off of those of his Country, for two Reasons. The one, That he it was that had drawn on the Tempest, wherewith it was tossed and agitated; the other, That in whatever Part Fortune should prepare him a Retreat, he would never find there what he had left at home.  
Wherefore treat he must, and comprehend the Florentines in the Treaty; but in this consisted the greatest Difficulty, because Lorenzo's Policy, how pregnant soever in Expedients, did not suggest to him any probable Means of bringing it about: For, in the first place, there was no hopes from an address to the Duke of Calabria, who would not be of a Humour to receive a Proposition of Peace, because he would look upon it as if it were to ravish from him the Glory of the Conquest of Florence. There was much less likelihood, in the second place, in courting the Pope; for besides that he appeared too much irritated against the Republic of Florence in general, and against Lorenzo de Medici in particular, to receive any Submission on their Part; he was, moreover, too much wedded to the Interest of his Nephews, to frustrate them of a Spoil of which they were almost cock-suree, after having spared no Means whatever for the making it fall into their Hands.  
In the third place, there seemed not to be any Remedy on the Side of Naples: For tho' King Ferrand was less prepossessed with Passion than the Duke of Calabria his Son, and than the Pope; yet he was so closely besieged by Nardi, to whom the Pope had newly sent a Cardinal's Cap, that there was no room for doubt, but that this Prince would cause all Persons to be clapped up, who should come to him on the behalf of the Florentines, under pretence, that they were People with whom he was in War. That if they went about to send Deputies to those three Potentates at the same time, besides their exposing themselves to all the Inconveniences I have newly represented, without any prospect of Success, they must hazard the Lives of as many Persons of Quality, as there should be appointed to this Commission; and the Republic of Florence would render itself ridiculous, by a Deputation which would only serve to give its Enemies solemn Marks of its Pusilanimity.  
Of so many Mischiefs that offered themselves to Lorenzo's Imagination, he chose the least; which was to go himself and negotiate with the King of Naples: For tho' he was assured (as I have already said) of concluding nought, yet there was some glimmering of Hope, that the Surprise that Prince might be in at such a Sight, would hinder him from treating him at the first blush with the same Severity which he would have used towards a bare Deputy; and that afterwards it would not peradventure be impossible to slacken and mollify him, if he gave him Audience. Besides, Lorenzo had a tolerable good Opinion of his own Fortune, as well as Caesar; he knew, that Chance does commonly produce the most remarkable Events from weak Beginnings: he knew the Genius of King Ferrand to be an Enemy of War, and susceptible of all the Proposals of Peace that turned to his Advantage. He had been fully informed of the Address which Nardi had used to wrest the Inclinations of this Prince, by making him enter into an odious Confederation with the Pope; and by consequence, did not despond of breaking it, provided he had the Opportunity of representing to him by Word of Mouth the Infamy of it, and of making him observe, That he had been paumed upon when he was promised to be made Ruling Lord of Florence, since the thing could not be effected according to the Terms it had been proposed.  
Upon this Proposition, Lorenzo de Medici, through a Result of Heroic Prudence, resolved to go throw himself into his Enemy's Arms, after having concluded a Suspension of Arms for two Months with the Duke of Calabria. As he had conceived this design without the Participation of his Friends, he made not any of them his least Confident in the Matter. He gave secret Orders for the securing what he had most Precious. He caused two Galleys to ride ready in the least-frequented Port there was upon the Coast of Tuscany; and casting his Eyes upon all the Florentine Gentlemen he had reason to mistrust, he found out the Means to hinder them from stirring during his absence. He invited their Children to a Match of Hunting, that waywards where he was to Embark; and the Invitation he made them was so much the more attracting, as that there were no parts of that Country unprovided with a World of Stags and Wild Boars. Not a Man of them failed the Assignation; for there was no Danger to be feared, (the Duke of Calabria's Troops being too far off, and there being no coming for them to the Place of Hunting, without passing upon the Lands of the Republics of Sienna and of Lucca, which was never practised in the Military Discipline then in use.)  
The Chase was good and diverting. And Lorenzo, after having conducted insensibly this young Nobless to the two Galleys, told them, with an Air wherein there was not the least glimpse of Affectation, That he was going to take a Voyage for a few days to Naples, upon Affairs of the Republic. These young Persons seeing him alone, and without Train, fancied there would be incivility in suffering him to departed in that manner, and offered to accompany him, without ask him time to inform their Parents, because they saw themselves too much pressed, and that they moreover fansyed he would not have led them so far, without the Permission of their Relations, who had not hinted it to them, that so the Voyage might be kept the more secret.  
Thus Lorenzo de Medici had without any Caballing, and without Violence, the Hostages he wished for, and was at liberty to apply his Mind wholly to what he was going about, because he had now no need to fear any Commotions in his absence. Nevertheless, he obliged his new Squadron to write to Florence, afore he set Sail. And he himself wrote to the Magistrates a pretty long Letter, whose Abridgement it is here of importance to set down. At first he asked their Pardon for two things: The one, For having undertaken, without their Participation, a Business of that Consequence he was going to negotiate. The other, Of departing Florence without their leave. He alleged but one and the same Excuse for these two Faults, namely, That the Affair in hand was so nice, that it could not, nor ought not to be approved of, but by the Success. Then he exposed, in Terms altogether tender, That he had not been able any longer to endure, that his Country should be in danger in his Consideration: And as he owed it all, he likewise hazarded his all for its Deliverance: That he was going directly to Naples, with design to undeceive King Ferrand, and make him see into the Injustice of the League wherein the Riario's had engaged him: That he could not doubt, but that this Prince was his particular Enemy; but that, notwithstanding, he did not despair of making him condescend to supportable Conditions: That if he effected this, he should have the Glory of exempting his Country from the Incommodities of the War; and if God did not in this Point second his just Intentions, his Imprisonment or his Death would discharge him from the Envy that was born him at Florence, and Posterity at least would do him the Justice of putting him in the number of those who had sacrificed themselves voluntarily for their Country.  
This Letter being brought to Florence, had the same effect in all People's Minds, tho' all People were not inclined alike. In regard of Lorenzo de Medici, his Enemies no longer doubted of his Loss; and his Friends believed it so certain, that they began to take their Measures for the establishing themselves elsewhere. But while the one and other reasoned after their own mode upon this Transaction, the two Galleys arrived at Naples. And Lorenzo de Medici signified to King Ferrand, That he was come to have the Honour of paying his Respects to his Majesty, and discoursing him upon some Affairs, that could not be negotiated by an Interposer.  
Lorenzo's Arrival could not be so secret, but that the News of it was spread all over the Town, before the Person dispatched to the King could pay his Majesty the Civilities he had in Charge. Insomuch that the Riario's Deputy, who was a Florentine by Nation, but otherwise Lorenzo's irreconcilable Enemy, and called Ressalli, had the leisure to go to the Palace, and be present with the King, when the Gentleman was introduced. He had likewise the satisfaction to hear, that not only the King gave him no favourable Answer, but did not so much as say to him any thing positive, whereon he had reason to take Confidence. He was so much the more spirited to represent to this Prince, as soon as the Gentleman was gone, That since Fortune had now popped into his Hands the Means to terminate in a moment the War of Tuscany, to his Glory, and the Advantage of his Allies, without running any hazard, there was no question but that he would use them with all the Prudence natural to him: That if Lorenzo pretended to be come upon the Faith of the Truce then granted by the Duke of Calabria, he would learn, to his cost, that that Truce only regarded Tuscany, or at most the neighbouring Countries, that lay exposed to the Inconveniences of the War; but not the City of Naples, which was an hundred Leagues distant thence: That tho' all the Dominions of King Ferrand had been comprehended therein, (which was not however done in any of the Articles) Lorenzo had incapacitated himself for enjoying the Benefit of it, by neglecting a Formality, so universally received in all the Countries of the Earth, that there was reason to maintain, that it appertained to the Right of Nations: That this Formality consisted in making known to Sovereigns the Desire a Person has of seeing or crossing their Dominions, or demanding their Passport before the Journey be undertaken; and that as Lorenzo could not be ignorant of this, he ought to be treated as Culpable, for having violated it: That nothing more was there to do, than two things, in his regard; the one, to rid his Person out of the World; and the other, to seize it: That the former would be the shortest, and safest; but, that if his Majesty could not so soon resolve upon that, his Allies hoped from his Prudence and Equity, that he would give his Orders incontinently for the performing the second.  
The King of Naples made no precise Answer to Ressalli: He only gave him to understand, That this Adventure was so surprising, that it well merited to be examined with more leisure. And indeed, hardly ever was Prince seen more puzzled than King Ferrand, when he fell to deliberate in himself upon the manner he should receive Lorenzo de Medici. The Cruelty he was naturally prone to, persuaded him to use Violence: And the fair Pretence he had to execute it, egged him on the more to gratify this Inclination. Moreover, he looked on the Sovereignty of Florence as a Fief which would hold of his Crown, as soon as Lorenzo de Medici should be no more; and the Life of a Private Man did not seem to him sufficiently considerable, to balance such an Advantage. He was engaged in a War, that might be terminated with one Blow. He had promised the Pope to put his Nephew in possession of Florence. He knew the violent Humour of that Pontiff. He foresaw, that he would never pardon him, if he let so fair an Occasion escape of satisfying his Ambition and Revenge: And the History of three or four Ages had taught him, that the Popes had taken away and given the Crown of Naples, almost as often as the Will or the Caprice had whirled them so to do.  
On the other side, the Right of Nations, and good Faith, on which Lorenzo was come, seemed to be two sufficient Reasons to dissuade his Detention, to whomsoever should have an abhorrence to notorious Crimes. And as the Genius of King Ferrand was sufficiently irresolved, he felt in his Soul an extraordinary agitation, when he was to come to a Determination. However, it is not doubted, but that he had at length chosen the unjust Course, if Curiosity had not justled in to the Succour of what Virtue he had left, to hinder him from violating the Right of Hospitality. He remembers, that Lorenzo de Medici was bruited the Worthiest Man in Europe. He remembers the Wonders that were blazed of him abroad; and comparing them with the Generous Resolution that had conducted him to Naples, he had a grudging to see this Hero, who was both the greatest Politician, and the gallantest Man living. He was confirmed in the Design, by the facility of gratifying this Desire of his, without its being in the least known. He had Lorenzo whispered, That they might confer together, provided their Interview was performed without any Witnesses. Lorenzo not caring in what manner he saw the King, so he had but time to discourse him, joyfully received the Proposal that was made him, nay, and suggested the Means of having it effected according to his Majesty's Mind, by offering to be conducted alone, as soon as it was Night, to any Place appointed him.  
Thus was the Interview had in the King's Closet, where Lorenzo having insinuated into to the Monarch's good Opinion, by all the ways that Decency allowed of, discoursed him upon the Subject of his Voyage, and made him see into the real cause of the Tuscan War, which so much care had been taken to conceal and masquerade, so as that it might not fall within his ken. He justified himself fully upon all which the Riario's had laid to his Charge; and perceiving the King took some delight in what he related to him, he staggered him quite, by declaring to him. That he needed to bring no other Proof of his Innocence, than the Resolution he had taken, of coming himself to acquaint his Majesty with the true State of the Case. He added, That he demanded no other Articles of Peace, than those his Majesty should judge reasonable; and that the Florentines would receive, without murmuring, the Law he should vouchsafe to give them, after having had the Honour of informing him of the Quarrel, wherein they were engaged, maugre their Endeavours and Inclinations for Peace.  
As the King of Naples was naturally vain, and that Fortune had never afforded him the Occasions of satisfying the Inclination he had for false Glory, tho' he had already Reigned above Thirty years, he swallowed with avidity that now offered, of becoming Arbiter of the Florentines Destiny, and foothed his Fancy with the Pleasure he should have in giving the Citizens of Naples a Spectacle approaching that of the Romans, when Tiridates, the King of Parthia's Brother, came to demand Peace of Nero, for Armenia. In this thought, he sweetened insensibly, and abated of his Tartness, even to the letting Lorenzo know, That if he sent to inform him of his Arrival by the most considerable Gentlemen that accompanied him, and to declare to him he was come as a Deputy from the Republic of Florence, to negotiate the Peace, under the Sanction of the Truce; this Overture would furnish him with the Pretext he needed, to give him a Public Audience, without derogating from the League he had made with the Pope.  
Lorenzo accepted this Offer so much the more willingly, as that at his departure from Florence he had provided himself with a sufficient Power, and had taken care to bring along with him the Gonfaloniere's only Son, the fittest Man that could be, to represent the Personage desired by the King of Naples. Whereupon he sent him the next day to that Prince, to make him the Compliment agreed on: And the King of Naples took his time to receive him in Ressalli's Presence. The Gonfaloniere's Son, called Tomaso Soderini, acquitted himself admirably well of his Commission, and acquainted the King of Naples, with much Boldness and Confidence, after having paid him the most profound Respects, That the Republic of Florence, in consequence of a Suspension of Arms, which she had concluded for two Months with the Duke of Calabria, had rightly judged, that this Interval was too short to observe all Formalities necessary for the Conclusion of a Peace; and that to improve these her few so precious Moment's to her best advantage, by justling up to the main of the Business, without losing time about the Preliminaries, to Naples she had sent Lorenzo de Medici, the most Considerable of her Subjects, that he might Personally Treat with his Majesty, upon the Presupposition, That the Pope would not fail to approve of what should be concluded on at Naples.  
The King of Naples, after having made young Soderini withdraw, asked Ressalli what his Thoughts were of the Business. Ressalli made answer, That he persisted in the belief, that Lorenzo de Medici ought to be dispatched out of the World, or at least secured. But things are no longer in the same State (replied the King); for we thought yesterday he came of his own motion, and as a Private Person; and now we are informed he comes in the Name of the Commonwealth of Florence, and has the Character of Ambassador Extraordinary. But tho' it were so (replied Ressalli hastily) your Majesty may pretend Ignorance, till such time as the Florentines have informed you of it by the Ways in use among Sovereign Powers, in matter of Deputation; and in the mean while, you will have sufficient ground to act against Lorenzo de Medici, tho' it were only to punish him for having neglected these Formalities. The King of Naples rejoined, When I have practised this subtle Prank and Cavil, it will not screen my Honour from Reproach, in having violated the Right of Nations, in so signal a Conjuncture. Then he fell to making a long Exaggeration of Lorenzo's Merit, and concluded it with letting Ressalli know, That if he failed making a favourable Reception to Lorenzo's Dignity, that alone would be sufficient to render his Reign odious to Posterity.  
These last Words utterly discomposed and nonplused Ressalli's Violence. He manifestly saw the King of Naples fully set upon giving Lorenzo Audience, and was not ignorant of the Consequences. Nevertheless, as there was no possibility of preventing it, at least without running the hazard of a Rupture with the King, from which he was forewarned by Riario above all things. Moreover, if the King of Naples was resolved to discourse him, the more advantageous was it to the Pope and his Nephew, that it were done with their Participation, and in their Deputy's Presence, than if it was performed without their Privity; because that in the first Case they might find occasion, perhaps, to prevent its taking effect: And that if it succeeded maugre these Endeavours, they would be still in a capacity to husband their Interests: Whereas, in the second Case, the Odds was too great against them, and their whole Stake in danger of being lost, without hopes of Retrieve, since the King of Naples, after having treated with Lorenzo, needed only to send word to the Duke of Calabria to lead back into his own Dominions the Army that acted in Tuscany: For, as that Army depended almost on three Regiments of Infantry, the Florentines would enjoy Peace nevertheless, with almost as much Tranquillity, as if they had treated with the Pope, whose Weakness would be then obvious to all the World, and tarnished with the utmost Affront.  
This moved Ressalli to give the Neapolitan King to understand, That if his Majesty thought convenient to grant Lorenzo Audience, the Pope his Master hoped he would have the Goodness not to do any thing prejudicial to their Union. The King of Naples replied, That he would neither see Lorenzo, nor speak to him, but in the Presence of his holiness's Minister, that he might have an irreproachable Evidence to vouch for the sincerity of his Intentions. Lorenzo's first Audience passed almost wholly in Civilities on both sides. He appeared as Ambassador Extraordinary from the Republic of Florence, and said, That his Superiors had sent him modestly to bewail the Misfortune they had had, of incurring the Pope's Indignation, without being guilty of any thing to challenge it; That for overplus of Ill Fortune, they had seen the Arms of Naples join with those of the Church, to lay desolate their Territory; but that these Acts of Hostility had diminished nothing of the ancient Confidence which the Commonwealth of Florence had ever had in his Majesty's Justice, because she had supposed, that so wise a Prince must necessarily have been prepossessed to her Prejudice, to treat her as an Enemy without any Lawful Cause; That it was in order to the destroying so dangerous an Opinion, that he was sent to implore Peace of his Majesty, and to declare to him, That the Florentines were so persuaded of their not having offended him in any manner, that they would submit to all he should please to decree, and humbly to beseech him to be their Mediator with the Pope.  
The King of Naples answered sparkishly, That the Commonwealth of Florence had found the Secret to make his Sword fall out of his Hand, if he himself had been only Interessed in the Tuscan War. But, as the Pope was a Party, he could then make no other Return, than that he already gave his Royal Word, to sacrifice to the Good of the Peace all his Pretensions, and all the Charges he had been at, and to employ his Offices with his Holiness, in order to dispose him to an Accommodation.  
This favourable Reception was followed two days after with a Private Conference between the Neapolitan King and Lorenzo de Medici, wherein Lorenzo fell immediately to the Business, and unveiled to this Monarch the true Causes of the War, which the Riario's had so craftily let him see only in disguise. He showed him the Informations of Pazzi's Case, and the Memoirs written and signed by the Accomplices own Hand. He made appear, that the Conspiracy had been hatched at Rome, with Design to mount Riario to the Sovereignty of Florence. He modestly insinuated, That the Care he had taken to manage the Sovereign Pontiff's Reputation, that of the Cardinal-Nephew, and Prince Furli, in the time they themselves prostituted it by the basest of all Crimes, had drawn the Devastations executed upon the Territory of Florence: But that he hoped his Majesty would cause them to cease, after he was informed of the Truth from his own Eyes. Then he represented to him, in a Discourse that was beyond contest, That since Italy was divided into so many different Sovereignty's, 'twas impossible to change any one of them, without hazarding the All it made a Part of: That this Harmony depended no less of the smallest Powers, than of the greatest, because none of them was then so weak, but whose Aggrandizement it was necessary to obstruct: That those whose States were more Considerable, for their Riches, or Extent, had more Interests than the rest to maintain the Counterpoise; since by shocking it, they would lose much Advantage: That his Majesty and the Duke of Milan were of that number; but that the Duke of Milan was not so much concerned in this Affair: for tho' the Pope had seized on Tuscany, he would still have a Refuge left in the Empire, whose Feudatory he was: Whereas if the Realm of Naples was menaced, after the Republic of Florence her being subdued, he would be destitute of all Means of Recovery, since that Kingdom must depend on the same Power which would endeavour its Oppression, and none would be concerned, or interpose in its Protection: That his Majesty must needs know, that the Intention of the Popes had ever been to reunite to their Demesn the Crown of Naples and Sicily: That Sixtus the Fourth was not of a Humour to neglect pouching the first Occasion offered, since his Paces did sufficiently evince, that he was at watch for such an Opportunity: That the Alliance of the Riario's was only a Trap; and the Promise of holding the State of Florence in Fief of the Crown of Naples. only an Illusion; since there was no Surety given to keep tack, when the Prince of Forli had once got Possession. And indeed there was none mentioned in the Treaty of the League; but tho' there had been, the Performance thereof was unfeasible and impossible; because the Prince de Forli having no Children, when once dead, the Pope then in being would pretend, that the Fief must be reunited to the Ecclesiastic State, and not to the Crown of Naples, and would clutch it with so much the more easiness, as that the Demesn of Florence touched on his Lands, and that the Neapolitans could not send Troops thither without his Permission: That, in fine, the Safety of all Italy in general, and that of his Majesty in particular, consisted in impeding Strangers from getting footing amongst them: But that this their Exclusion was in no wise to be effected by continuing the War against the Florentines; for if the Florentines were pinched, they'd not fail to accept the Offers of a Puissant Succour made them by the most Christian King. And besides, well known it was, that they were so inclined, that out of despair of preserving their Liberty, they would prefer the French Sway, to whom they were united by Commerce, before that of the Riario's: That in this Case the Kingdom of Naples might assure itself of being first attacked, because upon it the French had the most ancient and most legitimate Pretensions.  
As all these Reasons were invincible, and that the King of Naples had not made any Reflection on them when he Confederated with the Pope, they convinced him. And Timidity, which was his ruling Passion, making him see nearer at hand the dismal Objects wherewith Lorenzo threatened him, he made no scruple of owning to him the Desire he had to terminate the Tuscan War, and required of him but two days time to contrive the Means of bringing it about. Lorenzo, overjoyed to see so happy a Progress in his Design, returned to his Lodgings with the same Precautions he came thence, that is to say, without being attended or seen by any, and left the Neapolitan King to consult and ruminate with himself about the Course he was to take; for this old Prince communicated nothing of this Affair to his Ministers, so fearful was he of their being gained and Pensioned by Riario.  
He resolved to send for Ressalli, and sound him, whether it were possible to prevail with the Pope to slacken in favour of the Florentines. Ressalli at first made some difficulty to tell his Mind; but being pressed at such a rate, as that he was compelled to speak, or declare by his silence that the Pope was inexorable, he freed himself out of this perplexity, by proposing to the King of Naples, That his Majesty would dispatch a Messenger to his Ambassador at Rome, to acquaint the Pope with Lorenzo's Voyage and Proposals, and to know of his Holiness after what manner and on what terms he was willing a Negotiation with him should be set on foot. He added, That he would dispatch at the fame time a Courier to his Holiness, to inform him of what occurred at Naples, and require his Directions; and that after he had received them, he would not fail to communicate them to his Majesty.  
The King of Naples accepted this Offer, because it tended to his receiving at the same time a double Illustration of what he had so much a desire to know. But the Pope, who did not curb his Humour in things wherein he believed Dissimulation was not absolutely necessary, answered the Neapolitan King's Ambassador, and sent Orders to his Nuncio, not to listen to the Florentines, till they talked of yielding at Discretion. He uttered his Mind in this manner with so much the less scruple, in that he did not as then the least imagine that the King of Naples was capable of leaving him in the lurch; and that being much better informed than that Prince, of the Extremity the Florentines were reduced to, he foresaw, that there needed only two or three Weeks delay, to oblige them to crave Mercy.  
However, he was mistaken in his Conjecture; and his Holiness' sturdy Answer having fully convinced the King of Naples of all Lorenzo de Medici had told him, that old Prince could no longer resist the Temptation of abandoning the Pope, and harboured no other Thoughts, than of making his Accommodation apart. Not but that he saw well enough all the Consequences of the thing; but he had such an urging to conclude it, that he found out in the same Instant Remedies to the Inconveniencies, furnished by his Imagination being crazed and wounded with Fear. Thus he thought of nothing now, but of hastening his Design; and in the very next Audience he gave Lorenzo, he agreed with him not only a Treaty of Peace, but likewise an Offensive and Defensive League, for Ten years, between the Crown of Naples and the Commonwealth of Florence.  
This so amazed the Pope, that he would neither believe what Ressalli wrote to him, nor what was owned to him by Baron Rossano, the Neapolitan Ambassador at Rome: Nor was he to be undeceived, till the Duke of Calabria had restored the Places he had taken from the Florentines, and brought home the Army he commanded into his Father's Dominions. Then, as domineering Passions have this Property common to great Rivers, which overflow with so much the more Rapidity, as that the Banks which held them in were stronger, or the more Care or Artifice used to withstand them; the Pope fell into such an Indignation, as could not have more dangerous Symptoms. He exclaimed against his Ally, and against his Enemies, at the same rate with those who mean no longer to keep any measure in their Resentments. He was not content with interdicting the Florentines, he excommunicated them all in general, and Lorenzo de Medici in particular. He abandoned their Republic to whoever had a Mind to possess it. He endeavoured to whet the Ambition of the Princes of Italy, by proposing to them so rich a Booty; and seeing they were palled by the Difficulties of seizing it, which seemed to them invincible, he solicited Foreign Powers, and fell to minding the Germans of their ancient Pretensions upon Tuscany.  
As to the King of Naples, true it is, he was not excommunicated, nor his Realm interdicted; for there was neither Reason nor Pretext sufficient to come to that Extremity. But bating this, a stop was put to all the Graces the Neapolitans were wont to receive from the Holy See. They were barred all hope of any in the future. And as it was known, that the Nobless of the Country were reduced to their Obedience to King Ferrand, merely by the Menaces of being retrenched from the Communion of the Church, they were solicited to revolt, under the Lure of Impunity; and a beginning was made to cavil the Investiture of Naples, which the foregoing Popes had granted to the House of Arragon.  
But as the Pope's Humour was nice in matter of Hatred, the Aversion he had for Lorenzo de Medici proceeded from a Motive so much the more difficult to cease, as it was the less known by those who might intermeddle in the Reconciliation: For tho' this Pontiff had much ado to digest, that Lorenzo had hindered him from exalting his House to the Sovereignty of Tuscany; tho' the same Lorenzo had in hand Matters sufficient to convict him of the basest and blackest of Crimes, and had shown the Originals of them to the King of Naples; tho' he had spirited this Prince from his Alliance, and had made the Troops of the Church receive the most sensible Affront, by exposing them to a shameful Retreat, after the Duke of Calabria's Desertion: yet all this was not precisely what lay heaviest at the Pope's Heart. He was more ingenious to torment himself, than were his very Enemies; and laying aside the Interest of his Grandeur and Reputation, he could not endure that Lorenzo (after having despaired of saving his Republic by continuing the War) had chose rather to go throw himself into the Arms of the King of Naples, than into his; and making the due Comparison he might well in this Occasion, he poised the Holiness of the Head of the Church, and his Quality of Common Father of the Christians, with the King of Naples' Character, who was reckoned in Europe for the most Cruel, the most Perfidious, and the most Self-interessed of all Princes. He from thence concluded, That Lorenzo de Medici must needs have imagined, that this King (as Vicious as he was) was still better than his Holiness, since he had preferred him before him in the nicest Choice that can be made in Civil Life, by confiding in him both his Life and his Fortune. Thus the Pope would have omitted nothing of what he judged proper to push on his Resentment, had not the Turks at that time seized on the City of Otranto, and put therein Troops they had assembled in Epirus. So sudden an Invasion was more efficacious, than had been all Divine and Humane Considerations. It reunited the Princes of Italy; it reconciled Lorenzo with the Pope; it caused the Censures to be taken off that were fulminated against the Florentines, and the Pope reinstated them in the Communion of the Church, on condition they would send Fifteen Galleys to block up the Port of Otranto and maintain them there at their own Charges, as long as the Siege should last before that Place.  
As it does not appertain to a Writer 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to dwell upon Sieges, I shall say no● thing of this, save that the Infidel's ther● taught the Christians to make regular Fortifications; and that the Besieged, after having shown more Resolution than the Besiegers, demanded to capitulate, as soon as they were informed of the Death of their Emperor Mahomet the Second, as if they had desponded of their Good-fortune under another Head. The Princes of Italy having no more Common Enemies, fell to sparring with one another: And the Senate of Venice hearing of the Death of Borso da Esté Marquis of Ferrara, imagined it would be easy for them to seize on his Territory, because Hercule da Esté his Successor was too young, and too voluptuous to support the Fatigues of the War. But as it was hardly possible to give a specious Colour to that Usurpation, without hooking in the Pope, the Senate had him pumped by their Emissaries, and proposed to him the sharing that Marquisate with the Republic, after it was conquered at their mutual Charges. The Pope embraced the Proposition, because that (well perceiving his Death was near at hand) he would make as much haste as he could to aggrandise his Nephews. Thus the League was concluded, and the new Marquis attacked by his two Neighbours, when he only expected from them Compliments of Condolance upon his Father's Death. The first thought he had, while a putting himself in a Defensive Posture, was to have recourse to Lorenzo de Medici, who was become so potent in Florence, by the late Service he had rendered his Commonwealth, that he disposed of it almost in the same manner as if he were a Despotic Sovereign. The Marquis caused an Envoy extraordinary to represent to him the Injustice that was done him, and the dangerous Consequences of the War newly declared against him.  
Lorenzo, who had already foreseen those Consequences, was not satisfied with assisting him with the Succours of Florence, but moreover wrought him a Counter-League between the King of Naples, the Dukes of Milan and Vrbino, and the Republic of Florence, for the Conservation of the Land of Ferrara. Thus, in a little time after, four Armies appeared in the Field, whose Success was pretty well balanced: That of Venice, under Roberto da San Severino, who commanded it since Coglione's Death, and who nicking the unexpected Death of the Duke d' Vrbino, General of the Troops appointed for the Guard of the Duchy of Ferrara, dissipated them without hazarding a general Battle, and came pouring on Victorious to the Gates of Ferrara. But, on the other side, the Duke of Calabria having advanced too far into the Ecclesiastic State, with the rest of the Confederated Troops, was defeated at Velitre, by Roberto Malatesta, Lord of Rimino, General of the Pope's Army. The Principal Lords of Naples were slain or taken Prisoners in this Action: And the Conqueror was already preparing to march to the Conquest of that Kingdom, when Riario, far from suffering him to have still that Occasion of becoming more Famous and Recommendable, having resolved to dispatch him, three days after the Battle had him poisoned, of which he died in two hours' time. Then Riario was contriving to put into Rimino such Soldiers as in whom he might confide: But Lorenzo de Medici having notice of his Intention by his Spies, caused other Troops to slip into it, that secured the Place for Malafesta's Heirs.  
This Precaution, however, mended little the Affairs of the better Party; for the Army of Venice being become Mistress of the Campagn, after the Duke of Calabria's Defeat, and the Duke of Vrbino's Death, blocked up so closely the City of Ferrara, that Lorenzo judged they would infallibly take it, if he had not recourse to the only Remedy to save it. This Remedy consisted in cutting off the Pope's Alliance with the Venetians: And to accomplish this Design, there was no other way, than to threaten his Holiness with a Council. Lorenzo made the Proposal of it to the Emperor, and to the Kings of England and France, who backed this Overture with so much heat, that the Council necessary to unhinge his Holiness was Convened.  
The News his Holiness received of it, startled him no less than if he had already felt the Blow. He remembered the Trouble that another Council, assembled at the same Place, had put one of his Predecessors to; and as he did not expect to be so fortunate as that Pope, in parrying the ill Consequences, and that he saw not the same Dispositions in People's Minds that Holiness had met with to divide them, he fansyed he was going to be deposed from the Papacy, if he did not suddenly remove the Scandal of the War of Ferrara, and do with a good Grace what was desired of him by all the Christian World. From thence it came, that he was not contented with abandoning the Venetian Commonwealth, without alleging any cause for his Desertion; but moreover he let her know it by a Public Declaration, as considerable at least as a Declaration of War. He cited her before his Tribunal, to give an Account of the Acts of Hostility she had committed in the Duchy of Ferrara, and of the Pretensions she might have upon it. He commanded her to restore what she had there taken, and command thence her Troops; in default of which, he protested he would go join the Confederated Princes, to constrain her to it.  
The Senate of Venice showed more firmness than was expected from a Republic accustomed to venture herself the least she could with Fortune. They did not trifle away their time, with vainly reproaching the Pope with his Breach of Faith, nor with putting him in mind, that he it was that had engaged them in the Quarrel, which he would now hinder them from deciding. They affected in that respect a kind of Insensibility, which might pass for a just Contempt, and answered with a Haughtiness mingled with Respect, That not owning any Superior Power upon Earth, they were not bound to give any one an Account of their Actions, nor to deport themselves at another's Pleasure, in a War they had thought just when they undertook it.  
Thus the Venetians Stubbornness and Obstinacy, of necessity drawing after it a long and difficult War, having obliged the Princes of Italy to meet at Cremona, so to resolve among themselves what Course was to be taken, Lorenzo de Medici appeared there in Quality of Ambassador from his Republic, and comported himself in such manner, as finished giving to his Reputation the liveliest Lustre of which it was capable; for tho' his past Actions, and principally his Voyage to Naples, had proclaimed him the greatest Statesman then in Italy, there was, however, some room for doubt, whether he understood War so well as Negotiation. And the extreme Care he had ever had to appease Quarrels as soon as they begun, seemed to uphold the Conjectures of some Persons, that he had a diffidence of his Military Virtue, and not so good an Opinion of himself, as to think he was capable of executing in the Field, what he had concluded at the Board. But in the Assembly of Cremona he talked of War with so much sufficiency and easiness, that the whole Congress went thence persuaded; that he was no less fit for Arms, than polite Letters; and that he had an admirable knack at inspiring vigorous Resolutions, when he judged them necessary for the Common Good.  
He represented to this Congress, That Italy had not then any more formidable Enemies than the Venetians; That they had altered the Design of being wakeful for the Public Liberty, which they had so happily prosecuted during so many Ages, into the Resolution of subduing it; and that the War of Ferrara was an evident Proof of this Assertion: That the Good and Well-meaning might with conveniency suffer them to come out of their Marshes, and take footing on the Terra firma, while they concerned themselves no farther than to exterminate the Tyrants of Padova, and against the Emperors to protect the Holy See; but that in the present Juncture they could not with Justice approve of their Enterprises, seeing they tended to the Oppression of Italy: That they had almost reduced to Extremity the Important City of Ferrara; and that if they were suffered to press it, there would be no means left to hinder them from rendering themselves afterwards Masters of Modena and Reggio: That they would find in those two Cities the Keys of all the Places of Romagna, such Conveniencies would they afford them, for the seizing them in the same time they stripped the right Owners of the Means of making their Defence; and that after the Conquest of Romagna, the most Potent Princes of Italy would have no longer any League of Communication, and might be easily subdued one after the other, by a Republic whose Counsel being Eternal, and ever Uniform, would still keep her in a posture of nicking the Revolutions which Time and Fortune should introduce among her Neighbours.  
Lorenzo de Medici's Discourse made all Italy take up Arms against the Venetians, and constrained them quickly to shift the Design of Usurping others Dominions, into that of defending their own. Hercule da Esté, at the Head of a formidable Army, entered the Territory of Brescia and Bergamo, and forced (by this Irruption) the Venetians to recall the Troops which had almost reduced Ferrara to Extremity. Those Troops dispersed themselves after some Skirmishes, wherein they had the disadvantage; and all the Champion of the Terrafirma was so absolutely deserted, that not a Venetian Soldier now appeared, to hinder the Pillage; when the Senate contrived a way to divert the Storm, by which they were upon the point of being wrecked, by a Device whose Success was answerable to their Expectations.  
They had perceived, that Ludovico Sforza, who governed then the Duchy of Milan, in Quality of the Duke his Nephew's Guardian, had engaged in the League rather for Companies sake, than of set Design; because having whirled his Head with usurping the Sovereignty, of which he had only the Administration, it was no longer for his Advantage, that the Confederated Princes should weaken the Venetians, for fear they should turn afterwards against him. In this view, they dispatched from Venice a sly and experienced Senator. He wriggled himself into Ludovico's good Opinion, by making him observe, That he unwittingly contributed to the Execution of others Affairs, by ruining his own; and that the Counter-clap of the Mischief he did the Venetians, if he had not a care, would recoil suddenly upon himself; Th●● he was engaged in a League which could not but be prejudicial to him, since whoever pounced the State of the Terrafirma, would render himself Master of the Land of Milan when he pleased; That young Hercule da Esté, to whom that Conquest was designed, had Ambition; and that when he was become extraordinary Potent, even beyond his Desires and Expectations, he would still drive at more, and endeavour to bring about his Aims; That the true Interest of the Duchy of Milan was to hinder Italy from changing Masters, because while it continued in the same State, that Duchy would ever be a principal Part of it, and its Masters, by consequence, always the most Considered Princes of Italy.  
This Ratiocination was so much the more agreeable to Ludovico Sforza, in that it was conformable to his Genius. This Prince, too refined in all things, suffered his Temper to be cajoled with the Vanity of showing his Power, by obstructing the Accomplishment of an Enterprise so near an issue, as was that of ruining the Venetians, and in drawing from the Brink of the Precipice the most Illustrious Republic in the Universe, without doing aught else than suspending his Concourse, and forbearing to act in Conjunction with those who were going to push on its Downfall. He abandoned the Confederates, without giving them notice. He concluded a secret Treaty with the Venetians, without foreseeing, that this same Treaty would be the Cause of his own Ruin, and of that of his Family. He recalled his Troops from Hercule damn Esté's Army, which made up the better part of it, and reduced him, by this Desertion, to departed Lombardy, and return into his own State. And thus the War ceased, in the same manner as a Fire that is retrenched of Fuel; and the Pope conceived such a Vexation at it, as augmented the Fever, whereof he died the Tenth of August, 1484.  
Lorenzo de Medici, after having endeavoured to make know to Ludovico Sforza the Fault he committed, proposed to the Florentines, to employ the Soldiers they had in the Confederated Army, in recovering the City of Serezana, which Fregoso had taken from them, and sold to the Republic of Genova. The Council of Eight gave their Assent to this Expedition. The Town was besieged, and made such a vigorous Defence, as required Lorenzo's appearing at the Siege. His Presence cooled the Courage of the Inhabitants, and of the Garrison: They sent to present him with a Crown of Olive, and the Town submitted to the Laws he thought fitting to impose on it. She opened to him her Gates, and received him with the same Serenity, as if she had no cause for Fear and Apprehension. This Testimony of her Confidence in him, was not useless to her: And if Lorenzo de Medici did not treat her altogether as Innocent, he hindered at least her being sentenced to a Redemption from Plunder, and from being robbed of her Privileges.  
At his Return from this Expedition, Fortune furnished him with the Occasion of repaying with Usury the King of Naples the good Office he had received. The City of Aquila was now revolted against this Old Prince, whose too great Severity was ever gravelling him in new Troubles, and had put itself under the Protection of the Holy See. Innocent the Eighth, succeeding Sixtus the Fourth, had granted her this Protection with too much precipitation, and without examining the Consequences it might have. The Neapolitan Nobility, who only waited for the Pope's Declaration to have a Pretence for Rebellion, took the Field, and causing al● the Cities to revolt where they had Authority, reduced their King to the necessity o● remaining penned up in his Capital City. Roberto damn San Severino being malcontent, as well as the rest, accepted the Generalship of the Pope's Armies, tho' his Brother of the same Name had been poisoned in that Post, and spirited away the Troops which the Duke of Calabria was leading from Taranto to his Father's Succour.  
So many redoubled Misfortunes did so oppress the King of Naples, that he did not so much as think of demanding Succours of Lorenzo; when Lorenzo, through an excess of Generosity, hazarded so many things to rescue and disengage him out of so great a Peril. And indeed, without having received either Letters or Courrier from Naples, he had already put the Orsini's his Allies into the Field, and had given them Money to raise Troops. He had likewise caused Sums to be distributed to Prosper and Fabricio, Heads of the House of Colonna, to the very Concurrence stipulated in the secret Treaty, which that House had concluded with the Crown of Naples, for their mutual Defence against the Holy See. And these two Clanns, forgetting for a time their Quarrels, acted in Conjunction, and caused part of the Ecclesiastic State to rise. This forced the Pope to recall San Severino, who made notable Progresses in Abrussia. San Severino was not so happy in St. Peter's Patrimony, and behaved himself so sorrily against the Orsini's and the Colonnesi, that the Pope, whose Humour was distrustful, suspected him of Correspondence with his Enemies. And this pretended Collusion gave him occasion to fear, that the two Armies (after having spent some time in making semblance of fight) would join, and march against Rome with Ensigns displayed.  
His Holinesses Warlike Temper was chilled of a sudden: He courted Peace with Precipitation, as he had with Levity declared War; and chose rather to address himself to Lorenzo de Medici, for the negotiating it, than to any other, it being in his Power sooner to conclude it, and without observing the wont Formalities.  
Thus Lorenzo was the Arbiter of Italy, and performed this glorious Commission with so much Address, that he merited the Pope's Amity, without abating the least of the Neapolitan King's Interests: For this Pontiff having on one side acknowledged the Fault he had unseasonably committed; and on the other, Lorenzo's Moderation not suffering that the King of Naples should derive any other advantage from the rising and lowering Commotions of the Ecclesiastic State, than that of Conquering what lawfully appertained to him; His Holiness was so affected with this Heroe's Virtue, that he since raised the House of Medici to the Sovereignty we now see it stand possessed of.  
The Pope had been married in his Youth, and the eldest of his Children, called Abe, was to be Head of that Illustrious House, and Heir of that of Malespina, which possessed two Principalities, and other fair Territories in Italy. Lorenzo de Medici was desired to give him in Marriage Margarita his eldest Daughter, and the Nuptials were celebrated with such Magnificence as held nothing of a Private Life. Afterwards the College of Cardinals was assembled to ratify the Intention the Pope had of making Giovanni de Medici, Lorenzo's youngest Son, Cardinal, tho' he had not yet accomplished his Thirteenth year of age. The thing was difficult, in that since John the Twelfth's Papacy, and the Calamities with which it was attended, all the Sovereign Pontiffs that succeeded him, to the number of above Fifty, had established for inviolable Laws, That thenceforward no Person should be admitted into the Sacred College, before his Majority. However, the Suffrages of the Cardinals were so carefully hooked in, and they were inspired with so auspicious a Desire to slacken in favour of the Pope, who had not neglected to solicit them in private, one after another; and in consideration of Lorenzo de Medici, who had newly freed them from a War, during which all their Revenues had been sequestered; that at length they consented to what was required of them, on Condition it should be by way of Dispensation only, and without turning to a Consequence.  
Hitherto Lorenzo's Virtue had appeared more Military than Civil, as having found little Exercise save in War. But the profound Tranquillity he had procured to his Country, gave him leisure to lay himself wholly open, and expose to view the other part of his Soul, which was no less admirable in Peaceable Functions. He had observed, that the Commonwealth of Florence had ever been attacked on two sides; namely, on that of Sienna, and on that of Mount Apennine. By way of Fortifying the former, he caused an Imperial City, called Poggio, to be rebuilt, upon an Eminence, and Peopled it with the poor Inhabitants of Poggibonzi, whose Houses the Duke of Calabria had burnt, for having held too long out against his Army. And to cut off Access to the second, he repaired Fierosola, situated upon the Highway of Bologna, and enclosed it with Walls, flanked with new Towers, of the famous Engineer, Mark Anthony de St. Gal's Invention.  
But for fear the Quarrels, which often arose among the Neighbours of his Republic, might disturb the Repose it enjoyed, by reducing it to side sometimes with one, sometimes with the other, he made a League between the Florentines, and the Lords of Perugia, and of Citta di Castilia in Bologna, and of Sienna, whereof the two Principal Articles stipulated, in case there fell out any Difference between two of the Confederates, they should be bound to submit it to the Arbitrement of the rest, and comply with the Decision made by Plurality of Voices; and that he of the two that refused acquiescing in the Sentence, should be constrained to it by force of Arms, which should be used against her, till he had executed it to all intents and purposes. This Confederacy, joined to the Authority Lorenzo had acquired in those Prince's Minds, rendered them so submissive to him, that they did thenceforward nothing of moment but by his Counsels, and enjoyed a profound Tranquillity during his Life.  
Some of them there were that endeavoured to imitate him in the new Order he put the Affairs of his Republic, and studied him (as I may say) in his so improving the Juncture, when there was not a Florentine that durst thwart his Intentions, by bestowing on his Friends, in their several turns, the Principal Offices of State, with a just Temperament, and without Men of the highest Quality taking any Umbrage: for tho' such Persons had not any peculiar Engagement with him, provided they were not wanting in Merit, he boggled not at employing them in Affairs for keeping up Decorum, and creating Emulation in others.  
As for the Florentines, Lorenzo knew, that to obviate their being Mutinous, it was necessary to produce them the Opportunities of gaining, and to procure and exhibit to them from time to time new Subjects of Divertisements. To indulge the former of these two Passions, he devised putting a Sum of Money into the Hands of the Overseers, and those having the Superintendency of the Public Provisions, that they might afford them at a cheaper rate. But after he had found by experience, that they were less obliged to him for this private Liberality, and that, in case he continued, he should infallibly incur the Suspicion and Hatred of the Nobility, he changed his Method, and fell to building a House of Pleasure at Cajana, where all the Poor of Florence, and Parts adjacent, might for a long time find occasion of getting their Livelihood; while at certain Feasts of the Year he took care to have Horse-racing and Tournaments, whereat the Youth with emulation showed their Agility.  
He had likewise Comedies acted, tho' they were not then so regular as afterwards under his Son's Popedom; and when his Factors at Grand Cairo had sent him Wild-Beasts, he made them bait and fight one another before the Florentines, who were so much the more greedy of this Diversion, as that Italy had not had the like Entertainment since the Luxury of the first Caesar's.  
But as he had a nice Wit in Gallantry, as well as in all other things, he fell to refining the Carnaval Recreations, and rendering them more ingenious, and more capable of being relished by Persons of Honour. For the better understanding of what I am going to say, it is to be supposed, that the Factions of the Guelphs and Gibellins, by obliging the Citizens of Florence to rub out Day and Night in Arms, had introduced into their Sports a World of Libertine Actions, which savoured of War; and had at last degenerated into such a Brutality, as that it was honourable to shun them, and scandalous to frequent them; for in these Recreations they only combated for infamous Objects, Feasted only to be drunk; the Balls were followed with Prostitution; and the Theatres exposed nothing that could be seen by innocent Eyes, or heard by chaste Ears.  
However, Lorenzo de Medici undertook to purify this sort of Festivals; and to accomplish it the more cunningly, and without being exposed at first to the Public Raillery, he conferred with all the Gallants, and all the Wits of Italy, about the Reformation he intended. After which, he framed the Design of representing at the Carnaval Histories of Antiquity, which were becoming all sorts of Persons, and instructed at the same time they diverted. Thus they chose the first time to give the People a Spectacle, whose Representation may be still seen in a Manuscript of the French King's Library, enriched with Noble Figures. It was the Combat of Hercules, and of the other Heroes that assisted at the Nuptial of of Pirithous, against the Centauris. The Painters, the Sculpters, and Architects, shared among them the Decoration of the Prospects, and of the Public Places: the briskest of the Nobility, and of the Citizens, were exercised by experienced Masters. The Battle was sought with all the Skill and Artifice imaginable, and the Florentines received so much satisfaction in this Entertainment, that Lorenzo thought it convenient to continue it, and took for three Years following the three Triumphs of Petrarch.  
His Gallantry was not confined to this Amusement; for as Prizes were given in the Principal Cities of Italy for Horse-racing, he caused Barbs of a prodigious fleetness to come from Africa, which were dressed with so much care, that they won the Day at Rome, at Milan, at Naples, at Venice, and in all other Places where the List was open to them. The Prizes they gained consisted in Plate and Precious Stuffs, which were all employed in the Decoration of Altars, that the People seeing them, might with pleasure call him to mind by whom they were Dedicated. So many Foresights did he use for improving, even to the least Occasions of preserving, or augmenting, the Love the People bore him.  
He did, however, all those things with an Air, as sufficiently showed his main drift was in all such Contrivances chief to furnish to the Public Recreations, suffering little of his own time to be cozened with these Shows; for his most precious Hours were busied in maintaining Peace in his Country in stifling the Seeds of Civil Wars, which budded from time to time among the Florentines. And as he could not doubt but that this particular Peace depended on that of Italy in general, he established a Sanction among the Princes and Republics of the Country, which lasted as long as his Life. His Closet became the Rendezvous of all their Deputies. In it, for four Years together, were terminated all the Bicker and Differences they had with one another. In it were the Measures taken, they bond themselves voluntarily to keep, and which they never broke. In one of those Politic Conferences it was, Lorenzo chanced to sta●, upon hearing the Marriage of Charles the Eighth of France with the Heiress of Prittany, That Italy would be in great danger, as soon as France came to know its own Strength.  
Thus the Fable of the Gaul●h Hercules being become a Truth, and there being a Man in the World, who without Power and Character governed at his own Pleasure the Part of Europe the most jealous of its Freedom, the most wary and considerate, and the most difficult to manage. This Miracle equally surprised Nations the nearest and most remote from Italy, and Bajazet the Second, Emperor of the Turks, sent to testify to Lorenzo de Medici the Esteem he had for his Virtue, at the same time that Mathias Corvin, King of Hungary, rendered him the same Office by a Solemn Embassy.  
The famous Cayte-Bey, Sultan of Egypt, caused such Precious and such Magnificent Things to be presented him at Florence, that never Prince had received the like in the highest Lustre of the Roman Empire; for besides Jewels, Gold, Balm, Benjamin, Perfumes, and Vestments, there was a Camel-Leopard, so enormous for his Bigness, and so lovely to behold, for the Diversity of his Colours, wherewith his Skin was spotted, that People came from all Parts to view him. The most famous Painters drew him, and the Poets employed some Months in the Description of this Animal; which served in some manner to comfort Lorenzo de Medici for the loss of him when the change of Air and Food had occa●sion'd his Death at eight months' end. And indeed, if we had not so many ancient Testimonies of this Creature, he would now be● accounted Fabulous, that the Indies being more known, and America discovered, there is not, however, any Relation that speaks of a Camel Leopard of this Kind. In the mean while, Lorenzo's Daughter, who had married the Pope's Son, was brought to Bed of a Male Child, and his Holiness making her a Visit, desired her to ask of him some Favour. She complied, but not in the manner that was expected; for in stead of speaking of what might pamper the Ambition of a young Woman, the Sympathy and Tenderness she had for her young Brother the Cardinal, induced her to desire only, that he might come and dwell at Rome. The Pope, being no less charmed with her Virtue, than with her incomparable Beauty, dispatched a Courier to Florence, to prevail with Lorenzo to recall his Son the Cardinal from Pisa, where he completed his Studies, and to send him to the Court of Rome, with a Promise of conferring on him the Privileges of Cardinal-Nephew, and of considering him in that Quality. Lorenzo could have been very well content not to introduce his Son upon so great a Theatre of the World, at so green an Age; however, as he loved him too well to deprive him of a Conjuncture so propitious to his Fortune, he allowed him to take a Journey to Rome; but he caused so pompous an Equipage to be prepared for him, that tho' Luxury was sufficiently great at the Pope's Court, by the means of the Cardinals of Naples and of Milan, where they had matriculated it of late years, nothing near his Magnificence had been seen. Yet this was not what Lorenzo applied his Thoughts most to; for he was much more solicitous of his Son's Education, than his Train. He set about him such Persons only whose Probity was known to him; and the Governors he had in his Youth, were Men consummated in the Study and Exercise of Politic Prudence.  
Lorenzo de Medici did himself contribute to this Instruction, what Experience had taught him; and robbing his Sleep of the Hours he could not spare from Affairs, he wrote a Book after the Example of Tully's Offices, for the teaching his Son how to acquit himself like a Man of Quality at the Court of Rome, of all the Duties of Civil Life. He represented the Dignity of Cardinal in all its Extent; he examined the Talon requisite to maintain it: Withal, admirably well describing the Genius of those who were then honoured with the Sacred Purple, and of the Principal Persons who made a Figure about his Holiness; he showed distinctly the Air with which he was to act with each of them in particular.  
Now this would be the Place to set down an Extract of that Book; but as it perished so absolutely, during Lorenzo's long Exile, that there is not the least Fragment of it remaining, we know nothing more of it, than what I have newly couched. Lorenzo's other Works, in Verse and in Prose, have not had a● more propitious Destiny; and we should hardly have known he had been an Author, if the Printed Letters and Manuscripts of his Friends, whereof I mean to speak in the following Book, did not make mention of his Odes, Sonnets, Gallant Letters, and a Dialogue of the Nature of Love, divided into Five Parts; and if Paulus Jovias, his Contemporary, had not filled his Eulogy among those of the most celebrated Modern Authors.  
Hardly had the Cardinal de Medici received and repaid the Visits of the Sacred College, when he was obliged to return to Florence, by Occurrences I am going to describe. His Father, being retired to his Countryhouse at Carrego, to vacate to the Study of Philosophy, with the most Learned of his Friends, perceived a Comet, whose Influence was so malign to him, that he was taken with a Fever the same day. On the morrow at Noon (the Wether being altogether Serene, and none of the forerunning Signs of Thunder appearing the Lightning fell suddenly upon the Principal Church of Florence, called Santa Maria del Frore, without causing other Damage, than breaking the Arms of the House of Medici, that were set upon the highest Pinnacle. Some moments after; a hideous Noise was heard in the Place where they kept the Wild Beasts for the People's Diversion; and they afterwards found, they had all mutinyed against an extraordinary great and furious Lion, so as that their Keepers were not able to hinder them from tearing him piece-meal, and that after this Execution they were of themselves appeased.  
As the Italians easily puzzle their Heads with Thoughts of the Future, they failed not to make Predictions upon these three Prodigies, which were almost all justified by the Event. But none, save Savanarola, a Religious of the Order of St. Dominic, carried the Prophecy to its due Extent, by preaching in the most famous Auditory of Florence, That the Italians having filled the measure of their Sins, God, who would no longer defer their Punishment, was going to bereave them of the only, Man that maintained their Tranquillity; and that incontinently after his Death, they would worry one another, and be exposed a Prey to Foreign Nations. Yet however eminent was already Savanarola's Renown, and tho' he employed all his Eloquence, the greatest of the latter Ages, to procure Belief, he hardly persuaded any to give credence to his Assertions; and those who were most concerned to appease the Anger of Heaven, loved rather to imagine, that this admirable Preacher threatened them through a prepossession of Spirit disadvantageous to the House of Medici, than resolve upon doing Penance.  
The End of the Third Book.   

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS. The Fourth Book.  
NEver was any Disease more treacherous than that which seized Lorenzo de Medici, on the very Day the Comet first appeared. It was in the beginning only a very slight Fever, and so much the less to be dreaded, in that his Friends thought they knew its Causes. They judged it to be excited by an Obstruction complained of by the Patient, and that this Obstruction could only be imputed to the Malignity of the Rhewm, of which he suffered every Moment strange Defluxions: Yet the Fits continuing, tho' not augmenting, Lorenzo's Relations and Adherents sent for Piero Leoni, the most celebrated Physician in Italy, from Spoleto.  
That what I am going to relate, may be the better understood, it is necessary to presuppose, That this Leoni was the first who since the fall of the Roman Empire had thought of questing after the Medicinal Art in the Ancient Greek Authors; whereas those of his time addicted to that Profession, commonly studied only the Writings of Arabian Physicians. He had translated with so much fidelity and eloquence the most considerable Works of Galen, and was become so famous by the Novelty and Importance of this Performance, as to be offered the Principal Professor of Physic's Chair at Padova, where he had taught with applause during several Years. But his ill Genius pushing him into the Snare wherein most Physicians were then entangled, (I mean) Judicial Astrology, he was become so expert that way, as to be consulted from all Parts of Italy. One day the Fancy took him to calculate his own Nativity. He found he was born under so malign a Constellation, that he must infallibly be drowned by an unforeseen Accident. The fear he was in of this falling out accordingly, made him quit Padova, as being called to Venice, whither he could not go but by Water: And that besides, by making a long abode at Padova, he could by no means have dispensed passing over the Bridge, which he supposed would fall under him. He had Estate sufficient to subsist on any where at ease; and if he preferred dwelling in his own Country before others, he did it on the account of there being neither Torrent nor River.  
Whereupon he returned to Spoleto, where he remained Ten years, without setting Foot over his Threshold. But at length his Renown attracted him so great a number of Visits, that Civility pressing him to repay some of them, he grew insensibly weaned from that hideous Apprehension he had harboured of Waters. He began to pass over the Bridge on Foot, afterwards passed in on Horseback. He since ventured to Ferry over Rivers: He went by Boat on Brooks. But as Hazard does ever extraordinary things, when Prudence has resolved to bring about some surprising Contingencies, it came into Lorenzo's Friends thoughts, to commit to Leoni the Concern of his Cure. They invited him to Carrego, with all the Reasons and Allurements of Honour and Profit, capable of tempting him; and prevailed with him at last to undertake the Journey, after having been thoroughly informed there were no Risks for him to run. He came; saw the Sick Man; observed all the Symptoms of his Malady with the utmost exactness; joined the Predictions of Judicial Astrology, to the Indications of Physic; and from all these things together, unhappily concluded, That there was nothing to be feared in the Distemper they had in hand; that there needed not any Remedy; and, that Nature, that would not fail to rouse itself in due time, would have sufficient strength to loosen and disperse the ill Humours which fed the Fever, and to re-establish the Patient in perfect Health. Leoni's Advice was followed with the utmost punctuality: but they likewise perceived, that Nature, in stead of making its Efforts in the Critical Days, grew still weaker and weaker, and insensibly sunk and dwindled. Ludovico Sforza, having Spies throughout all Italy, was informed how Matters stood. And as he had an Interest in Lorenzo de Medici's Life, as thinking him too Pacifick to suffer any Disturbance in the Tutelage of the Duchy of Milan, tho' he had usurped the Station, he sent with all diligence to Carrego, Lazaro de Plaisanza, the most famous Physician of Lombardy, dwelling then at Pavia. Lazaro visiting the Sick, despaired, of him at the very first, and plainly declared, it was impossible to cure him. He showed the Malignity of the Phlegm, which had so seized upon the Noble Parts, that Remedies were no longer capable of driving it thence. And, or that the loss of so Great a Person augmented his Indignation, or that he was overjoyed with having found an Occasion to disparage Leoni, the only Physician that gave a Jealousy to his Fame, he took delight in demonstrating, by indubitable Proofs, and even by Trials made upon the Patient's Body, that had he been prescribed the Common Courses, he would infallibly have recovered his pristine Vigour.  
While the Family of Medici were cursing Leoni's Negligence and Temerity, Lorenzo being informed that his End was near at hand, appeared no more moved, than if some indifferent News had been brought him; and carried his steadiness of Courage to the very last Degree that Philosophy teaches it can go. He comforted his Friends, gave them all the Orders and Directions he judged to be necessary after his Death; regulated his Domestic Concerns by a Will, which could not be more humble, or judicious; and taking his leave of the World, refused seeing any other than Ecclesiastic and Religious Persons. He expired in their Arms, after having given. Tokens of a most Christian Submission, and received all the Sacraments. There wanted three Months of his having accomplished forty three Years, and it was not known any of his House had died so young, of a natural Death, since the time of its being in Eminency. His Death plunged all those of his Family into a Consternation, the upshot of which was, their falling into a fury.  
Piero de Medici his eldest Son, who derived from his Mother all his Impetuosities and Transports, went out of the Chamber, where, according to Custom, he had closed his Father's Eyes, when he perceived Leoni crossing the Court-yard. This Object, offering itself so unseasonably to his sight, redoubled his Rage: He ran after him to strangle him; but having sound him near a Well, whose Brink was not very high, he changed his Design; and as he was extraordinary robust, he seized Leoni about the Waste, and tumbled him into the Well.  
The Skreams of this poor Old Man, and the Noise he made in falling, obliged some Domestics to run to his Assistance; but the Water had already suffocated all the natural Heat he had remaining: Which verified the Prediction by which he had formerly doomed himself to be drowned. The Friends of the House of Medici spread abroad the Rumour, That Leoni had been so sensible for the loss of his Reputation, that he fell mad at Caregio, and threw himself into a Well. But Providence never fails of finding out the Secret to manifest Crimes, when it has resolved to punish them in Public. They hindered for some time the ill Effect Piero de Medici's Inhumanity would have had in the World, if it had been known. But there was no hindering his losing his Life in the same manner he bereft the unfortunate Leoni of his, as I shall make appear in the Sequel of this Work.  
Now this would be the Place to finish Lorenzo de Medici's Portrait; but the Gratifications which the most Christian King confers on Men of Learning, at Monsieur Colbert's Recommendation, agreeably invites me to bestow the rest of this Book on the Merit of the only Personage of the last Century, who since Maecenas, in a Private Fortune, has rendered his Name Famous by that sort of Magnificence.  
I say then, That Lorenzo's predominant Inclination was ever for Learned Men. He nursed up these Squab-Virtuoso's in Literature almost from the very Cradle, and destined them by a rare Foreknowledge to Sciences and Arts, whereof they would be one day capable, when as they were yet but learning to read. He prevailed with the Florentines to build them Schools, and gave them Annual Pensions out of his own Estate. He was the just Estimator of true Virtue, in what Place soever it was found. He did not content himself with caressing the Muses, and receiving them commonly at his Table, (as did then the Kings of Hungary and of Naples) but he took the pains to exercise them in all such kinds in which they were best capable of performing, nay, and to spirit them by his own Example. Into their own Country did he send the Learned Greeks, who had made their Retreat to him after the taking of Constantinople, that so they might buy up there the Best and most Ancient Manuscripts, that had been pillaged; and gave them for that purpose such considerable Sums, that they brought enough back again to form that famous Library, one part of whose Wrecks is now what is most Curious in that of the French King. I reserve for another Place the History of that Library, and of the strange Revolutions it suffered from the time Charles the Eighth exposed it to Plunder, unto the Regency of Catharine of Medicis, who got, half by Force, half by Cunning, what we have now remaining of it, out of the Hands of the English; and would never consent, during her Life-time, that those Manuscripts should be mingled with those of the King's. I shall only here set down one Particularity, which I have seen several times; namely, That most of those Manuscripts were bought so dear, that there are those that cost upon the Places a hundred Golden Crowns.  
This Library was put into the Palace of Medici, for an Invitation thither of the Learned'st Men of Europe. Provision was made for their daily Reception, and they had the Means afforded them of Studying with their Conveniency. Conferences were held, at which Lorenzo de Medici assisted and spoke in his turn. And there it was he began the Design of making Physical and Astronomical Experiments, which are now continued for the Public Benefit, under the Direction of Prince Leopold de Medici.  
They assembled on the same Design all the Antic Monuments which could serve to fashion young Painters, Sculptors, and Architects. All such were invited thither, a● were willing to be instructed or perfectionated in those three Arts: They had excellent Masters appointed to train them up. Provision was made for the Maintenance of such as needed it: And Lorenzo's Purse was ever open to whoever lifted himself above what's vulgar. Assist they did at the Scrutinies which the Skilful made of their Works. They were brought to note the Defects of them. In each Piece was shown them what was wanting to its attaining an ultimate Perfection. And they were much bettered by the Emulation which was carefully nourished among them, for the finishing them the sooner. From thence it came, that Michael Angelo improved so well in this Illustrious School, that he counterfeited at nineteen years of age an Antic Head, in such manner, as that it was impossible to distinguish the Original from the Copy.  
This Application of Lorenzo's in his Palace, did not hinder him from contributing with the same vigour to the Studies of the Youth in the Cities subjected to his Republic of Florence. He knew the City of Pisa was disconsolate for the loss of her Liberty: And to divert her from those gloomy thoughts, he persuaded the Florentines to found there an University, which would have become the most flourishing of Italy, had it persevered in the same Principles it commenced. There had he Chairs erected for all sorts of Sciences. Thither had they attracted, by the greatness of the Recompense, the most renowned Professors of other Universities. There were they maintained with Lustre. And to tempt Strangers to come thither in greater numbers, young Cardinal de Medici went to study in this place the Civil and Canon Law. Lorenzo took ever and anon a Journey thither, to judge of the Progress, and distribute the Prizes to the Students: But he never went, without taking along seven Learned Men, whom he had culled out from among others, with them to establish a peculiar Engagement. The first was Johannes Picus de la Mirandola: The second, Angelus Politianus: The third, Marsileo Ficino: The fourth, Christofano Laudini: Johannes Lascaris, the fifth: The sixth, Demetrius Calchondilas: And the seventh, Marcellus Trachamontano. However, I shall not first speak of them. And lest it be imagined, that I mean to prefer them before the other Wits which appeared, in that most happy Conjuncture, I rank them according to the Order of Times they came acquainted with Lorenzo; and I begin with the famous Leonard, who, for that he was born in the City of Arezzo, upon the Territory of Florence, took upon him the Name of Aretine. He was already very old, when he bestowed his Cares on Lorenzo de Medici's first Education, and enjoyed all the Glory acquired him by his Sufficiency and long Labours. He began to be famous at eighteen years of age: And as he had got a Fancy in his Head, to re-introduce in Europe the Study of the Greek Tongue, which had been neglected since the Inundation of the Barbarous Nations, and that he had succeeded that way to admiration, he made himself necessary to the Court of Rome, which did not then refrain keeping secret Correspondencies with the Eastern Bishops, tho' separated from their Communion. Thus Aretin was called from Florence, where he still studied, and Pope Innocent the Seventh made him his Secretary. And as he was extraordinary parsimonious, he scraped together in that Employment a Fund sufficient to spend the rest of his Days at ease, and then made an honourable Retreat into his Country, where he might have enjoyed in quiet the Advantages of his Fortune, if the same sparing Humour wherewith he was besieged, had not thwarted his own Happiness. This Infirmity rendered him almost generally contemptible, and trumpt him up the Aversion of such People as knew not otherwise his Merit. The facetious Artofe composed a kind of Novel in imitation of Boccacio, wherein he wittily lashed and raillyed Aretine, by representing his stroaling, vagabond Humour about hidden Treasures, spending Day and Night in telling Gold and Silver, and busied with new Contrivances to heap up Pelf. He also drew him pensive and thoughtful upon extraordinary Usuries, and so prodigiously thirsty after another's Good, that all the Waters of Pago and of Pactolus, which God Mammon poured into his Mouth, could not quench his Thirst. Lorenzo, however, did not miss of prevailing with him, by sacrificing something to his Avidity, to engage him afterwards to labour for the Public. And by this innocent Stratagem was it, that Aretine fell of himself to translate Aristotle's Problems into Latin with the utmost accuracy, and wrote very judiciously the History of his own Country. He lived above Fourscore years, dying however soon enough not to receive in his Life time the Affront he had merited by a notorious Larceny. He had met with a new Manuscript of Procopius his Gothique History, and imagining there was never another extant, none having been found among the Books saved from the Pillage of Constantinople, the Whim took him to burn it, after having printed the Work under his own Name, without fearing to pass for an Infamous Plagiary with Posterity. This Changeling, while Aretine lived, redounded much to his Honour: But scarce were his Eyes closed, than that Christoforo Persona said, he had got another Manuscript of the said Procopius, containing the Wars of the Persians and Vandals, besides those of the Goths, and caused them to be printed, with a Preface so injurious to Aretine's Memory, that his being no longer in a condition to read it, was reckoned for none of the least of his Good-fortunes. Moreover his Heirs were so little careful of the Works he had not yet published, that the better part of them would be still unknown, if the Learned Monsieur de la Mare, Counsellor in the Parliament of Burgundy, had not taken the pains to poak them out of the Dust of the most famous Libraries, principally out of that of the most Christian King, and of the Great Duke of Tuscany, and collected them into a Volumn.  
The gay, facetious Poggio laboured at the same time with Aretine on Lorenzo de Medici's Education, and infinitely contributed to dispel what appeared too gloomy in his Infancy. He had travelled throughout all Europe, and most industriously visited the Archives of Monasteries. He was the first that found out Tully's Books which treat of 
* De Finibus & Legibus.  Laws, and of the Ends of Good and Evil. He had likewise the good luck to discover Quintilians Institutions, and his first Nineteen Declamations, as he was feretting the Shop of a Germane Grocer, just as he was going to tear them, to make Wrappers of for his Commodities. And those who know, that this was the only Copy in the World, will have eternal Obligations to Poggio's Memory. Eugenius the Fourth, and Nicholas the Fifth, made use of him in Quality of Secretary. And this Commission would have gained him vast Riches, if he himself, by the following Adventure, had not contributed to his own Disgrace. He was naturally Curious, and yet his Conversation extreme diverting, because never Man proceeded sooner or more imperceptibly, from the starched'st, severest Gravity, into the freest Mirth and Gaiety. This Quality, which made him one in all gallant Meetings and Entertainments, would have advanced him very high, if he had confined within any bounds his easy proneness to Drollery. But People began to grow weary of affording him Attention, when they saw him lash out into the most keen and poignant satire, and not valuing to lose a Friend, rather than not have the Pleasure of springing a Witticism. One day that they were Criticising the Briefs, (as was customary) in a company of Learned Men, Poggio could not endure that they commended one drawn up by Giorgiodi Trebizond, and this Satirical Verse started from him: Graeculus esuriens ad Coelum jusseris, ibit.  
George not understanding Raillery, answered him immediately with a Cuff or two on the Ear, which were followed with so general a Laughter, that Poggio was constrained to step aside and leave Rome on the morrow, where he rightly judged, there was nothing more for him to do, after such an Affront. Thus he returned to Florence, where he translated into Latin the Greek History of Diodorus Siculus, and made excellent Tracts on the Infidelity of Princes, on the Capriciousness of Fortune, and the Contagion of Avarice. But as it was fatal to him to detract ever to his Cost, he attacked Lorenzo Val, of whom it was then said, That Nature had kneaded him all of Choler. And indeed, he answered Poggio with such fell Scurrilities and Execrations, that he made him quit the Match, to set upon the History of his Country, which he wrote in Latin competently pure, and Giacomo Poggio his Son translated it with much Elegancy into Italian. But this Work was happy neither for the Author, nor the Translator; for they kept so little moderation in their commending the Florentines, and decrying their Adversaries, that they could neither be accounted bad Citizens, nor good Historians, as Sannazar twits them by this excellent Epigram. 
Dum Patriám laudat, damnat dum Poggius hostem  
Nec malus est Civis, nec bonus Historianus.   
The Father died a little afore the Pazzi's Conspiracy; and the Son being engaged among those cooped up in the Townhouse of Florence, in thinking to surprise it, Lorenzo de Medici in vain endeavoured to save him from the Rope.  
Ambrosio damn Camaldoli was the first Religious of his time, who applied his Mind to the Study of Polite Letters, He translated the Work of the Hierarchy attributed to St. Denis, with so much eloquence and neatness, that none have since come near his Style. But he sped not so well in the Translation of Diogenes Laertius. He was General of his Order, and the Pope's Eugenius the Fourth, and Nicholas the Fifth, could not entice him from his Solitude, by proposing to him the Dignity of Cardinal, as an Attraction to get him to the Court of Rome. He persevered in his Hermitage unto a profound old age, in an healthful Cheerfulness, which procured him the Visits of the Worthy'st Persons in Tuscany; and he it was Lorenzo de Medici pitched on to reconcile Lorenzo Val with Poggio. He endeavoured it for a long while, but with so little Success, that they since gave him reason to aver, in a Letter written to the Prince of Mirandola, That he had found them neither Christians, nor Men of Reason.  
Antonio damn Palermo was born at Bologna, of the Illustrious Family of Beccarelli; but without any Estate. He had Eight hundred Crowns Pension to teach History to the last Duke of Milan of the House of Visconti, from whence he went to Naples, to be King Alfonso's Secretary. He accompanied that Prince in all his Wars and Voyages, and was Eye-witness of most of the Wonders he relates of him, in a Book that has had the Honour to be enriched and re-touched by Pope Pius the Second. He was very Moderate for the first seventy years of his Life: but at seventy one, a fair Maid of Naples, called Marcilla, inspired him with Love, and made him think on Marriage. He had by her several Children, and died Ten years after, with so little Pain and Distraction, that a moment before he expired, he made his own Epitaph.  
Lorenzo Val was the first Roman in whose Head it came to repair the Damage the Barbarous-Nations had done the Study of the Latin Tongue. He composed Books of Elocution, which quickened the Roman Youth with a Desire to hunt in the Works of the Ancients for the Purity of Expressions, that had been natural to them. He carefully translated Herodotus and Thucydides, tho' his Fidelity has since been much questioned by Henry Estienno, in those two Works. But he was of so malign a Disposition, that he could not speak of any Man without Detraction. He took fire on the least occasion; and when he had once begun to ferment, it was impossible for him to abstain from the bitterest Invectives, or to be brought to a Reconciliation with those he had offended. Thus finding no longer any one to Criticise upon in the Court of Rome, he removed to that of Naples, where he got immediately into Credit, by the Offer he made to write the most Illustrious Actions of Naples. He went about it with all his might, but with so little Success, that his Adversaries had reason to upbraid him, That he had fallen himself into all the Faults, which he had so often reproved in others. This Disgrace, it's thought, made him banish himself from King Alfonso's Court; and that the anxiety of surviving his Reputation, made him take pet and die, at Fifty years of age. And the Romans could hardly be prevailed with to suffer him to be buried in the Church of Lateran, whereof he was a Canon, for that he had made way for others to doubt of their Pretensions, by writing against the Donation of the Emperor Constantine to Pope Sylvester. They would have had more reason to contest him so honourable a Sepulture, on the score of the Scandal and Ill Example he had given in the Commonwealth of Learning, by first publishing whole Books of Invectives and Recriminations.  
Fabius Blondus was born at Furli, of the Scum of the People, and earned Preferment and a Name, by his Courage, in undertaking to write the huge Decades of the Civil Wars of Italy; whose Memoirs were upon the point of being lost, because there was not a Person willing to apply his Endeavours to so tedious and irksome a Subject. He since composed another Piece, of the Revolutions happening during the Decaydency and Restauration of the Roman Empire, with so much satisfaction to Pope Nicolas the Fifth, who set him to work, that he made great Gains by this Achievement; and it is verily believed he would have attained to the most eminent Dignities, had he not preferred Wedlock to an Ecclesiastic State. He married a Roman Lady of great Quality, by whom he had several Children, who had the Misfortune to become miserably poor; he died at Seventy years old, and was buried at the Door of our Lady of Ara Coeli. I have sometimes made enquiry how it comes this Author is so little known, and have found no other Cause, but that he had the misfortune, a hundred years after his Death, that Carolus Sigonius took a fancy to write upon the same Subject: And as he was less entangled, and more methodick than Blondus, he ravished him of his Reputation with so much excess, that he now serves only for Parade in Libraries, tho' otherwise no Man can deny, but that Sigonius is almost all along the Plagiary of Blondus.  
Candidus December went from Vigevano, where he was born, to Milan. He became the best Critic in Europe, in Lorenzo Val's Judgement, who never commended any other Grammarian of his time, save Candidus. He was the first Translator of Appianus Alexandrinus, which he did not speed in, however skilful in the Greek and Latin Tongues, because he had made use of so faulty a Manuscript, that he had been constrained to supply in several Places, upon feeble Conjectures, what was wanting to the Text. But, in recompense, he wrote the Life of Filippo Visconti Duke of Milan, in a Style so like to that of Suetonius, that none have since been able to come near it, no not Paulus-Jovius, tho' he has endeavoured it in the Life of the Great Sforza, surnamed Attendula. True it is, he has tinged and dashed it with things so highly shocking Modesty, that it's a wonder, that, this notwithstanding, his Work has been infinitely esteemed. He died aged Fourscore, and was buried near the Library of St. Ambrosio, which had been long under his Care.  
It is not without some Confusion, that I speak here of that famous Algionus, tho' he was the Learned'st Venetian of his Age, and that we have Letters of his, written with the utmost politeness, to Lorenzo de Medici. However, those who know him, have not been able to excuse him from two great Infirmities: The one, of getting drunk as often as he found the occasion: And the other, of having deprived Posterity of the most excellent of Cicero's Works, of which he had got the Manuscript. This wretched Plagiary was under an Obligation of comforting the Proveditor Cornaro, in the Banishment he was doomed to, for having been routed in making War upon the Turks, tho' the Fault was none of his. Algionus sent him the Book entitled De fortiter toleranda Exilii fortuna. And as this Tract was wholly composed of Sentences sorrily tacked and jumbled together, and fitted out of Cicero's Book of Glory, yet was it much esteemed, tho' the Judicious easily observed it had not any Connexion. Algionus, overjoyed at the Success of his Work, changed the design he had had of causing Cicero's Piece to be printed: And as he knew there was no other Copy of it to be had, he committed it to the Flames, for fear there should be one day found among his Papers Matter for his Conviction. Nevertheless, he repent it towards the end of his Life, and made a kind of an atoning Confession and Apology at the Head of two Harangues, which he composed at Venice, upon the Desolation of Rome by the Lutherians. The Public is indebted to him for the Exactness which Aldus Manucius used in the Impression of the best Greek and Latin. Authors we now admire; for he was all his Life Corrector of that famous Press.  
Never Man became more Learned, with less Health, and more Engagements incompatible with Study, than Donatus. I speak of him that issued from the Illustrious Family of the Acagholli at Florence. His Life was very short; being almost wholly spent in the most weighty and considerable Employments of the Republic. This notwithstanding, he failed not translating Aristotle's Morals much more exactly than those who had gone before him in that sort of Labour, nor of purging them with an admirable Commentary, of ridiculous Interpretations given them by the Ancients, and new Sophists. Wherein he showed, That whosoever engages himself in this Labyrinth, without another Guide than the famous Eustachius, cannot avoid going astray. He found likewise time to translate the Lives of Plutarch's Illustrious Men, being the best Version we have of them in Latin; and to write a Book in Praise of Charles-Main, in acknowledgement for that Prince his having built or re-established the City of Florence. He was a Confident of Lorenzo de Medici; and 'twas upon his Request he undertook a Journey into France, to solicit at that Court Succours for his Country, against Pope Sixtus the Fourth. He died at Milan, aged Thirty eight years, and three Months after the Pazzi's Conspiracy.  
Franciscus Philelphus of Tolentin was so enamoured of the Greek Tongue, that he would needs go view the Ruins of Athens, to try if the Air of the Country could in any wise contribute to his Sufficiency. From thence he passed thorough Constantinople, where he married Emanuel Chrysolorus his Daughter, merely for her pronouncing admirably well the ancient and new Greek. This Woman being intriguing, made her Husband known to the Emperor Palaeologus, who sent him in Quality of Ambassador to the Christian Princes, to demand Succours against the Turks, Philelphus his Negotiation was of no benefit to the Emperor, but accrued to his own advantage; for it brought him acquainted over all Europe, and principally at Florence, where Lorenzo engaged him to translate the Works of Hypocrates, and Xenophon's 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. He likewise wrote the Life of Francisco Sforza in Heroic Verse, for which he received Noble Presents. He was at Naples when the News came of Constantinople's being taken, and King Alfonso stayed him there by his Liberalities. He had also in that Place a Dispute with a Natural Greek, called Timotheus, upon the force of a Greek Syllable; and as the Contest was flushed in good Company, Philelphus adventured to say, That he would bet a hundred Crowns, that the Opinion he held was true. Timotheus answered, he had not wherewith to take up his Wager; but that, to show, if he had all the Treasures in the World, he would make no difficulty of hazarding them to defend, his Sentiment, he offered to stake his fine Beard, the thing which Men of his Country preserve with most fondness. Philelphus took him at his Word; and the hundred Crowns being consigned into a third Hand, the Learned assembled in the King's Library, where they consuited the ancient Manuscripts, and found so clearly the poor Timotheus to be under a Mistake, that he gave the Verdict against himself, nay, and offered Philelphus a hundred Crowns to redeem his Beard. But this inexorable Conqueror was not to be prevailed upon or by Entreaties, or by Pity, which any other would have had for poor disconsolate Timotheus: He cut it off, and exposed it a long while to the view of his Auditors, for a Mark of his Triumph, on the side of his Chair wherein he publicly professed. As to the rest, never Man of Letters received more Gratuities from all sorts of Persons, than Philelphus; and yet never Man died poorer. He expired at Ninety years of age, and all he had being sold, was hardly sufficient for the Charges of his Burial. He left a Son, called Marius, a Man of no less Learning than his Father; but he neither inherited his Fame nor his Happiness.  
Nicolo Perroti came from the same Town of Sassoferrato in Vmbria, where the famous Bartolus was born. He first contrived putting the Rules of Grammar into Verse; that Youth might learn and remember them the more easily. His Trial of Skill was the Traduction of Polybius, which he so acutely well performed, as made it questioned, whether it was he that did it, or if he had not found some ancient Translation of the said Polybius, and caused it to be printed under his own Name. The most Judicious durst not however arraign him of Plagiarism: They chose rather to produce him at the Court of Rome, which then did Justice to the Merit of all the Learned. Perroti became, after some years. Archbishop of Manfrediana, and Governor of the City of Perrouza, and of the Province of Vmbria. Nay, he would have been Cardinal, had he not bubbled himself of the Cap, by debarring Cardinal Bessarion his Patron from being Pope, through an Adventure I shall hereafter relate. He quickly solaced himself for this Loss, and cheerfully spent the rest of his Life in a House of Pleasure he had fitted up to his Fancy, and called Fugicura. There did he compile a Commentary upon Martial, Learned and Curious in truth, but a little too Lascivious and too Libertine for an Archbishop; which perchance hindered him from publishing it in his Life-time. He died very old; and the Author of his Epitaph had reason to use these Words only, Here lies the Translator of Polybius: For if the Work is Perroti's, none of all those who have made the Greeks speak Latin, not only can be compared to him, or in any wise come near him.  
Platina came to Rome from Cremona, the Place of his Birth, under the Popedom of Calixtus the Third. Cardinal Bessarion provided for his Subsistence, and set him a writing the Pope's Lives; whose Style is pure, and Narration ingenious. Paul the Second made him afterwards his Secretary, and wrongfully suspecting him of having betrayed him, caused him to undergo the Irons, Dungeon, Rack, and other Mischiefs; which he himself relates with a most pathetic Air▪ In reparation of which, Sixtus the Fourth made him Library-keeper of the Vatican, where he composed Dialogues of True Good, True Nobility, The Perfect Citizen, and of Honest Pleasure. He died almost without Pain, and left by Will his House of the Quirinal to serve for an Academy, and the Coronation of Poets. His Epitaph, which he himself made, is but of three Verses, sorrily enough turned, and desires no other Favour of Passengers, but that they would not stir his Bones.  
Giacomo Cardinal of Pavia was a poor Boy, for his Merit adopted, and made Cardinal-Nephew by Pope Pius the Second. He was employed in all the Importent Negotiations of his time; and nothing it wanting to the Letters he has left behind him, but the Politeness and Purity of the Tongue. He passed for the most worthy Subject of the Sacred College pretending to the Papacy, when falling ill at Bolcenna, at the persuasion of an ignorant Physician he took a kind of Nellebore called Veratro, which suffocated him in a trice.  
Domitius Calderi● was fetched from the Tetritory of Verona, his Native Country, by his Maecenas Cardinal Bessarion. His principal Talon lay in interpreting the most difficult Passages of the Poets, which he explained with so much neatness, and by such acute, ingenious Guesses, that never Professor had a more Illustrious Auditory, so thronged was his with Persons of the First Quality in Italy. This encouraged him to commit some of his Observations to the Press. But as he was naturally ambitious, and that he affected to bottom his own Repute by disclosing the Ignorance of others, he created so great a number his Enemies, that he would have found it a hard push to answer all the Writings drawn up against him, if he had not been relieved by a Fever, which cut him off very young. His Death inspired Pity into his very Adversaries, and Politianus caused stately Verses to be engraved upon his Tomb, which serve to evidence, That Envy among Wits does not extend beyond the Grave.  
Antonius Campanus his Fortune was no less capricious than his Genius. An unknown Country-Girl was delivered of him under a Tree, where she bilked him. He was found there by a Sexton Priest of the Church, who put the Bantling out to Nurse, through a pure Principle of Charity; for he had more the Form of an Ape, than of a Child. This Priest taught him to read, and put him afterwards into the Service of a young Gentleman going to Study at Naples. Campanus attended his Master to the College, and became a Man of such Learning, as at his return he stood for and obtained a Public Professors Chair at Perruza. This Exercise brought him to the knowledge of Pope Pius the Second, who made him Bishop of Iterano; and Paul the Second since conferred on him other Benefices. But he could not avoid being disgraced under Sixtus the Fourth, because that Pope having vowed the Ruin of the Race of Vitelli, for Reasons I have inserted in the Second Book, thought it needful before all things to rid Campanus out of the way, he having too strict an Engagement with this House. And indeed, he sent him into Exile, wherein he died of the Falling Sickness. He left several Works, the most considerable of which would be the Life of the famous Captain Braccio, had he not blended it with so many Fables, that the most knowing in the History of Italy in the Fifteenth Century, can in it hardly distinguish Truth from Eiction.  
Cardinal Bessarion was a Man so accomplished, that the Sacred Purple had never clad his like. He merited the Cap in the Council of Florence, and wore it so worthily, that he set his Fortune above Envy. He was tall, and of Noble Deportment; his Manners were regulated according to all Christian Severity; his Conversation charming, and Knowledge Universal; his Palace the Sanctuary of the pinched, uneasy Greek and Latin Muses; and at his Table has been seen at once, several times, George de Trebisondo, Gaza, Argiropilos, Pleton, Philelphus. Blondus, Aretine, Poggio, Valla, Sipontinus, Campanus, Platina, and Calderin. The Pope's Eugenius the Fourth, Nicolas the Fifth, and Pius the Second, declared on their Deathbeds to the Sacred College, That Bessarion was the most Worthy of being their Successor; and it's well known, that he would have been Pope after Paul the Second, but for the Imprudence of Nicolo Perroti, the same I have already mentioned, who served him for Conclavist. One Evening, that Bessarion was studying, as was his Custom, without troubling his Head with the Intrigues of his Colleagues, three Cardinals, the Heads of as many Cabals in the Conclave, having at length agreed for the Election of him, went to his Cell, and asked to speak with him. Perroti fancying all their Business was to hedge in the Suffrages of his Patron; and as he knew him well enough to be persuaded, that these Cardinal's Solicitations would (as to that) be ineffectual, he thought it his Duty not to interrupt Bessarion's Study. Wherefore he obstinately refused to introduce them, or to acquaint his Patron of their ask to come to his Speech. And what was most capricious in this Adventure, the more Perroti was entreated, pressed, conjured, threatened, the more stiff and refractory he was to keep the Door shut; all this so much the more confirming him in his Chimerical Presupposition, That they were so earnest for admittance, only to mump the only Voice they wanted for him among them they had agreed upon. The Contest lasted so long, that the three Cardinal's Patience being tired, they said to one another, A fine Business truly would it be, to exalt a Man to the Holy See, who not only would not con them any Thanks for his Election, but also make them depend on the Caprice of his Domestics, when they should have occasion to Discourse him. Then Spite and Indignation made them take other Measures; and as Cardinal Riario was the He most flattered their Imagination in that instant, they elected him Pope, tho' they had concerted before not to give their Voice to any Religious, and that Riario had been a Cordelier. The Pleasure they expected to reap from Cardinal Bessarion's Regret, for having missed the Papacy through his Conclavist's Fault, set them agog to let him know how the thing had passed: But this neither changed Bessarion's Countenance or Carriage to them, and he only told Perroti, That he had hindered him from dubbing him Cardinal. The new Pope having a mind to reduce the Popedom into a Monarchy, could no longer endure sight of a Person he knew to have been so near the Place he held, and merit it much better than his Holiness. He contrived, for the getting him out of the way, an honourable Shame, which was, to send Bessarion in Quality of Legate into France, where he resided a long while, and gave Budoeus the first Tincture of the Greek Tongue; for that Kingdom had not a Man that understood it at that time. In his Return he died in Ravenna, where the House of Medici caused a Mausoleum to be erected him.  
George de Trebisonde was one of the Principal Men of Letters that came from Greece into Italy, after the Revolution of Constantinople. He translated the Works of Eusebius of Coesarea, part of those of Aristotle, and the Rhetoric of Hermogenes. He was indefatigable in Labour; but besides his having the Mien and Manners of a Pedant, he lost his Fame by the unjust. War he made upon Plato: He had got a Fancy, that the only way to exalt his own Repute above that of other Learned Men, consisted in defaming that Philosopher: and as he was extraordinarily virulent in all he went about, he wrote against him such invidious, Satirical Libels, as rendered himself altogether ridiculous. He received likewise the displeasure of seeing, that among the Learned, all those making Profession of Virtue, defended the Doctrine of Plato with the same Zeal, as if it had been (as I may say) the Outworks of the Christian Religion. Cardinal Bessarion of his Maecenas became his Adversary, and answered him with so much Solidity and Eloquence, as stopped his Mouth. He did not desist, however, after this Quarrel, teaching at Rome, where he married; but some years after he had a Fit of Sickness, which made him so universally forget what he had learned, that he retained not so much as his own Name. He did not recover, without becoming again an Infant; and died, after having tired out his Children and Domestics for above ten years together, with following him where ever the Fancy put him upon going, for fear of his insulting those he met; for notwithstanding all his Imbecility, he would never endure to be shut up Day or Night.  
Theodore Gaza departed very young from the City of Thessalonica, the Place of his Nativity, and came into Italy, where he was immediately observed to have a Wit prodigiously quick and pregnant, He attained in a short space the Delicacy of the Latin Tongue, and became so nice, as gave occasion to doubt, if he understood it not better than the Greek, tho' it was not questioned but that he admirably well knew the Tongue of his own Country. And indeed, he was the only Person, of whom People have not hitherto been able to judge which he translated best, Greek into Latin, or Latin into Greek; for, if we on one side examine the Version he made of the Problems of Aristotle's History of Animals, of that of Plants of Theophrastus, and of the Aphorisms of Hypocrates, we shall find, that he has not only expressed the Thoughts and the Character of those Authors, but has likewise retained all their Graces, which seemed as if they could in no wise be divorced from their Expressions: And if, on the other side, we consider the Air wherewith he makes Cicero speak Greek, it will be more difficult (without comparison) to comprehend the inimitable Turn he found the way to give to that Orator Travestyed, to make him retain all the Majesty of his Eloquence, without having enfeebled the Beauty of his Sentiments, or the Purity of his Style. Cardinal Bessarion had procured him a Benefice in the Realm of Naples, on which he might very conveniently have subsisted, if his natural averseness for all sorts of Menial Cares had not obliged him to refer them absolutely to his own Country People, who let him almost want all manner of Necessaries. They made him believe, the Lands had been ruined, sometimes by Storms, and sometimes by extraordinary Droughts. Honest Gaza loved rather to believe their Lies, than take the pains to inquire into the Truth of their Asseverations. However, he did not leave off working with as much Exactness and Perseverance, as if he had had all his Conveniencies. And when he had finished the Piece he designed for Pope Sixtus the Fourth, he transcribed it himself upon Parchment, (for he painted admirably well) and presented it to his Holiness. But the good Man had made his Address in the wrong place; for the Pope, who had lived Fifty years among the Cordeliers, had depraved his Taste, by studying the Formalities of Scotus. He received Gaza's Book with as lowering a Countenance, as if he had offered him a Song: He threw it into a Corner of the Room, and calling his Chamberlain, bid him give the Author so mean a Sum, that it was not sufficient to pay for the Velome on which th● Work was written. Gaza being nettled with this Affront, the most sensible a Man of Letters can receive, could not forbear reciting aloud the Greek Proverb, which says, That Asses have no taste, save for Coals. But wel● was it for him, the Pope did not understand the Tongue; for he would not have allowed him to have retired to his Benefice, where out of vexation, he burned what he had left of his Work. And it is to be presumed, that the Pope did the like with the Manuscript presented him by Gaza; for we have not yet been able to know what it treated of. Gaza lived some years longer, ever in indignation against the Muses, as if they should have been warranties of Sixtus his dogged humour and moroseness, and died at above fourscore years of Age.  
Johannes Argiropolis having been invited from Constantinople, to instruct those of the House of Medici, was in effect Piero's, Lorehzo's, and Giuliano's Tutor. Gaza's Friendship, which he took care to Cultivate, was an infinite help to his acquiring Reputation when he came to Florence, and still more since to preserve it; for, setting upon translating Aristotle's Books of Physic, Gaza, who had also translated them, and incomparably much better than Agiropolis could do, out of a disinteressedness and modesty, unexempled in the Republic of Letters, suppressed his Work, in consideration of his Friends, he well foreseeing that as soon as his own Traduction should come forth, it would darken that of Argiropolis, who neither knew so much Latin as Gaza, nor had so neat, easy, and fluent a gift of Explanation, as to unravel Aristotle. Argiropolis took the advantage of Gaza's Generosity, without troubling his head about acknowledging it, and thus indulged, at another's Cost, his two ruling inclinations, Ambition and Avarice; for he was ranked among the Wits, and shared with them the Liberalities annually bestowed on them by the Court of Naples, that of Rome, and Lorenzo de Medici: He likewise taught in the public School of Florence with sufficient Applause, while he respected the Authors in the Latin Tongue. But when he chanced to bolt, Cicero did not well understand Greek, his Auditors eclipsed themselves insensibly, and the Pestilence, breaking out in Tuscany, in that juncture, gave him a pretence to departed Florence with Honour, and retire to Rome, where Cardinal Bessarion procured him considerable Pentions. There lived he according to his Genius, prone to good Cheer, and some excess in Diet, with which it was never observed that he had lost his Reason, or that he blurted any thing unbeseeming him. Nevertheless, his Stomach was not proof against Melons, for he died in his seventieth year, by having eat too much of that Fruit: They found among his Papers he had cozened some of his Moment's, by making a Will, in which he bequeathed to his Friends such considerable Legacies, as if he had possessed all the Riches of the House of Medici; tho' universally known not to be worth a Penny; this Gallantry only served to Convert the Epitaph that was preparing for him into an Epigram.  
Marcilus Tarcaniote came from Greece into Italy▪ with a company of Cuirasseers, and mingled all his life long, the Pike with the Pen; the Profession of Arms, with that of Polite Letters. His fondness for the Latin Tongue, made him wed the Daughter of Bartolomeo Scula, who understood and spoke it to an admirable Perfection. She taught it him so accurately, that Lorenzo de Medici found him capable of translating Plutarch's Moral Works, and conjured him to do it by Letters still extant. But he had so much averseness for that sort of Labour, wherein a Man must (said he) render himself a Slave of another's Sentiments, that it was impossible for him to finish the first Page. He loved much rather to compose Epigrams, whereof there is a Collection still remaining, wherein a body may see that it was solely his own fault, he did not do much more. He was drowned in fording the River of Volterra, swelled extraordinarily by the Rains, on the very day that the unfortunate Lodovico Sforza was confined to an Eternal Prison.  
Demetrius' Chalcondile had all the good Qualities of the Greeks, and none of the bad, He was Knowing and Laborious, never weary of Studying or Teaching, sincere, and never boasting. He came very aged to Florence, where he must needs be dabbling in Matrimony. The little disposition he had to meddle in Domestic concerns, induced him to leave those Sollicitudes to his Wife; and this freedom, so extraordinary in Tuscany, with that Ladies wonderful Fecondity, served for matter to a world of Verses, disadvantageous to her Modesty. After Argiropolis had quit the Greek Chair of Florence, Politian obtained it; and as he was an incomparable Wit, using all the ways of making him successful in his Undertake, he so well brandished his Talon, and so slily coaxed and flattered his Auditory, that he wrought an Exclusion to all the Greeks, who offered to dispute for it. Chalcondile, tho' very humble, and little minding his own Glory, could not digest the affront that was done those of his Nation. He made his Addresses to Lorenzo de Medici, who had already pitched upon him to reach his Children the Greek Tongue, and obtained Permission to teach in Concurrence, and at the same time with Politian, to see which of the two would have most Followers. But the harsh accent which Chalcondile could never get rid of, and the difficulty he had to pronounce some Latin words, rendered him Contemptible, in comparison of Politian, whose agreeable tone of Voice, and gallant Expressions, ravished his whole Audience. Lorenzo contriving by all means to keep Chalcondile at Florence, was forced to procure him Auditors, and endeavoured to oblige Politian to live with him more civilly.  
Lorenzo set about several times to reconcile them, but he found by his own experience, that it was more easy to procure Peace to Italy, than make it between two Virtuoso's. He hindered them however from letting their Resentment break out, during his Life-time, but incontinently after his Death, Chalcondile being without support, sided with Lodovico Sforza, who gave him the principal Chair at Milan, where he committed to the Press his Illustrations upon the Greek Tongue, that have rendered him so famous. There he died, when near a hundred years old, and yet soon enough not to be informed of the shameful death of Theophilus, the Eldest of his Children, killed by Night in a buy street of Pavia, where he was Professor.  
Marc-Musurus, a Native of Candia, where he had already signalised his parts, by his Criticism upon the Greek Authors, and by the rare felicity of his Genius, which almost equally accomplished all he undertook, when that the Republic of Venice made him remove from his Island to the Terrafirma, and gave him a Chair at Padova. The number of his Auditors was there so great, that they were forced to enlarge the public School, and permit Musurus to teach Grammar in the morning, and Poetry in the Afternoon, to gratify those who had a mind to hear him unfold those two liberal Arts. He continued to Profess, till the War deserted his Auditory, and compelled him himself to think of his Security. He withdrew to Rome, where he composed that wonderful Poem in praise of Plato, which is found at the beginning of that Philosopher's Works. Those who understood it, and saw him, could (at first) hardly believe Musurus to be the Author. They were rather inclined to suspect he had found it in an ancient Manuscript, and published it in his own Name. Their Diffidence was grounded upon its not being possible for a Man of their time, to compose a piece wherein the Character, and Grace strokes the Greek Poetry possessed in Alexander's Age, were restored in the highest point of their Perfection Musurus helped on his side to confirm them in this thought, when judging of the Beauty of his Poem, by the Applauses it received from all Parties, he would compile nothing more of that Nature, for fear of diminishing by a feeble piece, or less finished, the high Reputation he had attained unexpectedly, and on a sudden. He contented himself with showing, by explaining to the Romans, the finest passages of Homer, of Hesiod, of Theocritus, and of Anacreon, that he was able to imitate their Quaintness, and Excellencies, since he knew so perfectly their Turn and Delicacy, and by leading so regular a Life, that People came insensibly to cease suspecting him of injustice. He was at this pass when Leo the 10th was Elected Pope, that is to say, when the Golden Age of Polite Letters began. Musurus' received of his first Gratifications, and was endowed with the Archbishopric of Ragusa. But as Dignities expose more in view those by whom they are possessed, and by consequence their Imperfections are the better noted; the Mitre only served Musurus, to manifest the Vice he had so long held concealed; for as hitherto he had not been accounted Ambitious, and they made this judgement of him, that he had more Repute than he desired. But no sooner was he Archbishop, than that he fell a Caballing to be Cardinal. He laid aside his Books, to study intriguing, and had such an ability that way, that the Pope was amazed at this Change, twitted him with it, and some times raillyed him. Yet did he not forbear continuing, and took so many new measures with those he saw Favourites at Court, that they Cock-sured him of a Cap at the first Promotion. But the Pope delighted in frustrating their purposes, for his greater Diversion at Musurus his future behaviour. And indeed, he did not neglect tricking up his House, augmenting his Train, nay, and preparing the acknowledgement he pretended to make. But the day of Promotion being come, Musurus not finding himself of the number of the one and thirty, added to the Sacred College, his Virtue proved too weak to digest the Affront he fancied he had received. He complained of it, as of a Contempt done to all the Greek Nation in his Person; and for the carrying his Resentment as far as it could go of the Dropsey he sell sick, and died.  
Johannes Lascaris was the most Illustrious of the Grecians, that came into Italy, after the taking of Constantinople; for besides that he reckoned Emperors in the number of his Ancestors, was he in such repute for Knowledge and Probity, that the very Insidels had a veneration for his Merit. He took Sanctuary with Lorenzo de Medici, who received him with open Arms, and committed to him the care of his Library. As they were one day discouring on the means for its embelishment, a thought came into Lascaris his head, that Bajazet the 2d, Emperor of the Turks, had an inclination for Philosophy, and that having caused Averro his Commentaries upon Aristotle, to be explained to him, he would not be sorry that the Peripeteticks were rescued from the downfall of Polite Letters. Lorenzo promised to furnish him with things necessary for a Voyage to Constantinople, if willing to go thither on this Design. Lascaris took him at his Word, and embarked without any other Credential, than the Letter which Lorenzo gave him for his Factours. Nevertheless he failed not of getting access to the Grand Seignior's Port, and of being presented to his Celsitude, who received him much better than he expected. They had a pretty long Conversation, and Bajazet testified to him all the Esteem an Infidel was capable of, for the Virtue of Lorenzo de Medici, and allowed him (in consideration of that Lord) to buy up all the Manuscripts met with to be fold in his Empire. His Celsitude gave him Men to Conduct and Guard him to and from such places, where he knew there had been Libraries, and to hinder those who had plundered them, from selling the Books for more than they were worth. Thus Lascaris had the conveniency of going throughout all Greece, and of collecting those rare Volumes, which still subsist in the French King's Library; yet he brought but half of 'em in the first Voyage he made, because the joy he had to show his Patron the Authors he had retrieved, tho' held for lost, made him return to Florence, just two years after he departed thence. But Lorenzo sent him back three Months after, and desired him to continue his search through all places that had been the Residence of the Learned. Lascaris saw Bajazet again, and received new Civilities from this Sultan. He travelled o'er all the Peloponesus, and returned as in Triumph, in a Ship freighted with the rest of the Spoils of the Greek Tongue. But he had not as yet ranged his Manuscripts in the stately place appointed them, when Lorenzo de Medici died, and left Italy in a calm of no long Duration. The French Army entered Florence, and dissipated the Books, as well as other the Movables of the House of Medici. Lascaris not knowing what to do, sided with Charles the 8th, and being a Man of the Cabinet, he had given him the Embassy of Venice, which he acquitted himself worthily of, under the Reign of that Monarch, and of his Successor, Lewis the 12th. At length, Leo the 10th being become Pope, called Lascaris to Rome, to be of his Council. He lived there as a Man of Quality, and spent regularly for his Table and his Equipage, all the Salaries, and Eccsileastical Pensions he received. He loved good Cheer, and had so much aversion for what is called Perking up an Author, that they had all the trouble imaginable, to get him Couch in writing the Aneients' way of Encamping, according to Polybius his Memoirs; and the little we have left of his curious Verses, was stolen from him by the Pope's order. He was very much troubled with the Gout in his old Age, and nevertheless attained to his Ninetieth year.  
The City of Groninghen, so little known before it had brought Rodolphus Agricola into the World, began to be celebrated for his Birth. So great was his Wit, that he learned at the first, and without pains, all he had a mind to study, and a memory so vast, that nothing escaped him of what he had once retained. These two rare Talents, joined to an indefatigable Temperament, supplied abundantly the lowness of his Extraction, and his Domestic Poverty. He became Learned to a Prodigy, with borrowed books, and without a Master; and the very things he confusedly learned, and according as they occurred in Authors, that were lent him, were found disposed in a marvellous order and nearness, when he pronounced them. He began his Studies, where others were wont to smish them; that is to say, with the Hebrew Tongue. He would know it not only in its Purity, but likewise with all the Alterations produced by time, and the Refinements of the Rabbis. He was also careful to initiate himself into the Greek Tongue, the principal Authors of which he read with so much Accuracy, that his Co-Professours have since owned, they could never know of which he was most Master. At last he fell to Latin, without having regard to the Remonstrances of those who dissuaded him from that Province, for that the habit of writing and pronouncing Hebrew, seemed to have introduced in his Mind, an incompatibility with the Roman Phrases and Expressions. In Latin he made so surprising a Progress, that the famous Erasmus, an Author so little accustomed to commend in another, the Riches he enjoyed, could not grow weary of admiring him, principally, after he had bestowed on the Public his Commentaries so polite, and so worthy of Augustus his Age, upon Aristotle's Rhetoric and Logic. He also made Verses, whose Character is so soft and melting, that they would never have been taken to have been Writ in the bitter Climate of Friezland, where Agricola dwelled; and those of the Triumph of Love over Reason, made him known to the Elector Palatine. This Prince having got a Fancy, as well as Lorenzo de Medici, to form a Library out of the Ruins of those the Turks had ravaged in Bulgaria, and other the Neighbouring Provinces, prevailed with Agricola to repair to Heidelberg, the Capital City of his Dominions, gave him the first Chair for Eloquence in the University there Erected, and made him his Counsellor of State. But Agricola was not yet well installed in his new Dignities, when a Malign  snatched him away in the flower of his Age, and deprived Germany of the only Man, it could confront to so many Greeks and Italians, whose Eulogies I here make.  
We must render this Testimony to the Infamous Genius of Leo Battisti Alberti, that never Man laboured with more success than he, upon so tiresome and so difficult a matter. His Family, being of the most Illustrious of Florence, and allied to that of Medici, wrought the first tye of Friendship he had with Lorenzo: he communicated to him the Design he had conceived of studying the ancient Architecture, and received from him the Counsels and Assistance, that he needed in an Affair which required much Recommendation. And indeed, Lorenzo de Medici's Letters gave him access at the Courts of all the Princes of Europe and Asia, where there were old Ruins of Buildings which seemed to have been Magnificent. Alberti visited them at his ease; he took al● the measures of those decayed Fabrics; an● at his return to Florence, comparing the divers Observations he had made with the Precepts of Vitruvius, he owned, this Author's Obscurity to be one of the principal Causes, that had occasioned Architecture to be neglected for so many Ages. On which account, he resolved to render that Author more Intelligible, and make him speak in his own Tongue. He achieved these two things with so much Order and Clearness, that the Learned had reason to say, after having scanned the Work he had undertaken, that those who should read it, would become a skilful and expert, as he himself. Then he bent his Studies to Optics, as perceiving that the Painters of his time, did not succeed in making Pourtraicts in Miniature. He found out its Demonstrations and Rules which he illustrated and rendered Public, and spared neither Industry, Pains, or Expense to dress up Youth in practising them From thence it came, that in his time there was at Florence, a greater number of excellent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects, than had been known in Greece, even when she boasted of being the Mother and Nurse of the Liberal Arts. I shall not mention them in this place, since the Curious may find 'em in Vasari, who has writ three Volumes in their Commendation. I shall only say, that tho' Alberti had his Mind replete with Palaces. Decorations, and Statues, nevertheless he recreated himself some times with less serious Muses. And whosoever shall take the pains to examine the Fables he composed, in imitation of those of Aesop, will judge (if he is equitable) that Alberti falls little short of that Ancient. I have not so good an Opinion of the Dialogue he afterwards Published under the Title of Momme, tho' it made at least as much noise, and its Raillery seems to me so feeble in several Passages, that a Man must have a great Disposition to Joy, to feel any in perusing it. Be it as it will, Alberti died pretty young in Lorenzo's Arms; and Politian commended him publicly, by the Recitation of a Piece, accounted the most finished in all his Works.  
Hermolaus Barbarus was the first who showed by Experience, that the most solid Knowledge, and most exalted, had nothing common with Pedantry: For tho' all Europe was persuaded of his being the most Learned of all Men; yet, at Venice, his Birth-place, was he reckoned for the only Person of all the Nobles, that made profession of the highest and most refined Gallantry. There needed no more than the hearing him discourse upon all sorts of matters, to be Convinced 〈◊〉 was ignorant of nothing; yet never seen t● Study. He was never told of any Book but what he had the Knowledge of, no● was there any seen in his Chamber, or his Closet. He had acquaintance with all the● topping Wits of his time, but would ente● into no strict Tie and Commerce with any save Lorenzo de Medici, Politian, and Pi●● della Mirandola. At their request he tool upon him the greatest labour, at that time in the Republic of Letters, by Correcting all the Manuscripts of Pliny's Natural History, for an acceptable Present to the Public. As there had been no ancient Work preserved, more useful than this, so ha● there none been preserved more defectuous; and of thirty six Books, whereof it i● composed, three or four only were Intelligible; nay, and only those, which spoke o● Men and Animals: As for those which trea● of Stones, of Herbs, of Gums, and Minerals, the ignorant Copiers had transcribed them with so much negligence, that the●● was at least a word in each Line, capable 〈◊〉 stumbling and puzzling the best and ablest Scholars. The trouble was infinite, and those who had read in young Pliny's Epistles with what both facility and exactness, th● Natural History was compiled, did aver it required twice as much pains to restore it; nay, and after that too, they despaired of Success. However Hermolaus effected it in a few years. In his Corrections he only made use of the Authority of Manuscripts all along, where good Sense could subsist with retaining them; and when those Manuscripts were not sufficient, he had recourse to the Greek and Roman Authors, who had writ upon the same matters, and restored his Pliny upon their Credit. Lastly, in such places where those two Succours failed him, he put in use his own Conjectures, with so much probability and happiness, that not one of them was gain-sayed. By this ingenuous way did he discover, that the same Pliny was born at Cosme, and that he composed a Disertation on it, which Convinced all those who read it. The Applauses Hermolaus received on this occasion, made him not have the better opinion of his sufficiency; and they only animated him to continue to serve the Public. He daily saw that the Medicinal Art was ill practised, because two or three Men only in Italy were passibly instructed in the nature of Medicaments, and the admirable desire he had to remedy the defect, made him undertake to do with Dioscorides, the same thing he had achieved upon Pliny. And as his Talon was as large at furbishing up the Greek, as Latin Authors, he had also the same success. Now after this, there seemed nothing more left for him to do, than enjoy, bask, and acquiesce in the honour he had acquired. And his Friends invited him so to do, when he urged to them on his own accord, that it was no longer just, that Italy should be entirely indebted to the Greeks, expelled by the Turks, for the most solid Philosophy, by their Traductions of Plato and Aristotle: He added, that whatever pains had been taken, to render those two Authors intelligible, principally the last, yet he was so little to be understood, that the Books of Rhetoric, Logic, and Physic were not of any use. That Themistius was the Man, of the Ancients, that had interpreted them with most Judgement and Neatness, but had not been better treated, than Pliny by the Copiers: that it was needful to set about purging him of their faults, and make him speak Latin, so to shrift under his Guidance into all the Secrets of the Licoeum, and then take a more honourable Repose, by placing himself at the end of the Career, after having opened to others, those of Nature in Pliny, of Simples in Dioscorides, and of Ratiocination, in Themistius. Hermolaus accomplished it, according as he had proposed it, and Themistius appeared with so much Pleasingness and Majesty, that none have since dared to retouch the Work. The Translators Reputation became then so great at the Court of Rome, his abode at that time, that Pope Innocent the 8th, being one day informed, that the Patriarchship of Aquileia was fallen vacant, he conferred it on him with full Right. It is to be presumed, his Holiness had then no other Intentions, than to reward the extraordinary Merit of Hermolaus. But the Senate of Venice was too much upon its Guard, against the Innovations of the Court of Rome, to want taking notice, that the Pope had made an Encroachment, by Conferring the Patriarchship of Aquileia: For tho' the Sovereign Pontiffs pretended, that they might place in that Station whom they pleased; yet they never did so with that Sovereign Authority, and were wont to give Bulls only to the Person nominated to them by the Ambassador of the Republic. Nevertheless, Innocent the 8th had dispensed himself from keeping this Formality, in the affair in hand, and gave but too much room for suspicion to People, naturally distrustful, that he had nicked his time to create Patriarch of Aquileia, a Patriarch and a Personage so famous, that they would be far from opposing his Installation, for the placing there afterwards Parties, as would not be of the same Consideration. From hence it came to pass, that tho' Hermolaus was one of the most Illustrious Gentlemen of Venice, and possessed besides all the other Qualities, that in another Conjuncture would have preferred him to the Patriarchship; yet the Senate acted with as much Rigour and Obstinacy, to hinder his attaining it, as if they had judged him absolutely unworthy of it. On the other side, the Pope was resolved to maintain what he had done, and to carry things to extremity, rather than endure that Hermolaus should not enjoy the Grace he had done him. But this wonderful Genius did his Commonwealth Justice, in opposition to his own Interests, and owned she had reason to be against him. He conjured the Pope to confer the Benefice on the Party that should be presented to him by the Ambassador of Venice, and formally declared, that he would accept none, if he must incur (at this rate) the Envy of his fellow Citizens. The Pope was so affected with his moderation, that he promised to make him Cardinal at the first Promotion. But in a few days after Hermolaus fell sick of a Pestilential Fever; the only remedy to Cure him, was giving him Bezoar, neither mixed, nor sophisticated. There was some at Florence, in an Agate Vessel, which Suldan Cayte-bay had made a Present of to Lorenzo de Medici, Politian, and Picodella Mirandola, sent it Post, but the Courier found Hermolaus just expired.  
Giorgio Merula, who survived Hermolaus. but four days, had not a Wit so well turned as his, tho' little less Vigorous. He was a Lombard by Inclination, as well as by Birth, and those who knew him intimately, observed in him all the Vices, and all the Virtues attributed to that Nation. He was Malign, unapt to Learn, Revengeful, Pitiless; and if he did no mischief, save by Writing, it was, because that the lowness of his Fortune, and the Employment he followed, did not allow him to do it in any other manner. He held it for an Honour to pass for a Pedant; he affected all the Grimaces of Pedantry, for fear he should be disputed that Quality. All his Life long did he perform the Public Functions of a Pedant at Venice and Milan. As his main strength consisted in Criticism, he retrenched his Wit to that, with it to gore and persecute all the Learned Persons of his Age. He was ever at War with one or other, and so implacable, that he would never be reconciled with any Body. He had also this property of the Mad-dog, which he had taken for his Devise, that his bite was incurable: Calderin was the first, whose Reputation he took a pleasure in ruining, not that he desired to gain by it, but only, because it seemed too well settled to his Fancy. Then fell he to making an Index of the Errors he had found in Galcote, and used him so severely, that he took pet, and died. These two advantages, gained in the Grammar Combat, puffed up his Heart. He took up all the able men in Europe, and published against them his Corrections, which were read with so much the more avidity, that of so many Persons, whose Ignorance was marked, there was not one durst set Pen to Paper in his own Vindication, out of fear of being crushed with a Reply. Merula did not so much as spare Politian, tho' Politian had acquired Fame sufficient, as not to have his match. He showed him, that tho' Nature had given him all the qualities requisite to become Learned, she had not however been able to render him so. He noted to him above thirty egregious faults, that had started from him, and hinted to him charitably (said he) that out of a desire to pass for the first, in the Republic of Letters, he must have read more, and studied more than all the rest together. Ludovico Sforza being amazed at his having so formidable a Subject in his College of Milan, made a scruple of employing him any longer in Correcting of Children, and drew him out of the Dust, to cause him to compile the History of Milan. But it was only to leave to Posterity a memorable Example, that the being very Learned, and perceiving the least Faults and Blunders of others, was not sufficient to make a good Historian: For tho' Merula has wrote with so much exactness and precaution, the Work prescribed him, that the greatest Critic could not find any thing in it to carp at; yet true it is, that his Book is so dry and barren, that those to whom the Author's Fame had given an itching to read it, seldom but grudged the time they had spent in that amuzement. This did not hinder him from being magnificently rewarded; but as he was near ninety years of Age, when he had finished it, none but his Heirs gained by the benefit that accrued from his Performance. Politian was the Man that got most by his Death. He had published the first Century of his Miscellanies; and Merula being scandalised at the audaciousness, which seemed to be in the word Century, had threatened Politian to detach against him whole Regiments of Authorities and Passages, to justify the contrary of all he asserted, but had only the leisure to rough-draw the Project.  
Never Man came to be so admired for his Wit, in so green a Youth, as Angelius Politianus; and never Man knew better how to preserve, by just and unjust ways, the Reputation he had acquired. He was born at Florence, and his Relations lived in such woeful Poverty, as constrained him to be of Giuliano's, and Lorenzo de Medici's Retinue, when they went to the College, and to wear their Liveries, that he might have the conveniency of being there. He had an ugly Face, a huge big and long Nose, his left Eye squinted; but he had a pliant and flexible Wit, and was finely and craftily Ambitious. He never used so much Artifice to disguise himself, save only with those he had most Communication: He never heard any thing with so much Indignation, as the Praises of others: he was equally envious of his Friends and of his Enemies. No other Pen composed any thing to his liking; he loved not to receive Correction, tho' he did it importunately to all sorts of Persons. It was sometimes seen that he acknowledged his Faults, and that it was merely out of Malice, he resisted Truth. Yet he never owned to have blundered. As to his way of living, it was so corrupted, that Modesty hinders me from speaking of it. What I mean, will be but too well divined by the Knowledge of his Death, which I cannot steal from my Reader, because it was too public. Yet after all this, he had so marvellous a Genius, that the World has not seen the like since Ovid. At twelve years old he compiled such stately Verses, that a body would have said they were of Alexander's Age, or of that of Augustus. And when the fancy took him to surprise the Learned, and make his own Productions pass for Fragments of Anacreon, or of Catullus, which he had just found by chance, in some old Manuscripts of the Medici's Library, those who best understood these matters, were imposed on in their belief. His first famous piece was for Giuliano de Medici. This young Lord had won the prize of a Tournament, and lay questing after a Panegyric, not inseriour to Luca Pulsi's, who had signalised himself in the like occasion, to the advantage of Lorenzo. Politian undertook the Province, and having perceived that Pulsi's Poem was not all along of the same Force, through the Authors having only couched in it things purely of his own Invention; he fancied he needed only (to avoid this inequality) take a quite opposite Method. He Book-padded the ancient Panegyrics of the noblest thoughts that suited with his Subject. He travestyed them after his own manner, and enchasing them with such Passages of Poetry, where he was not satisfied with his own Product; he made so fine a piece, that Pulsi, after having read it, would have suppressed his own, out of shame and vexation. The same Giuliano having been killed in the Pazzi's Conspiracy, Politian lying perdue for an extraordinary occasion, to show he writ as well in Prose as in Verse, drew up so Pathetic a Description of this Conspiracy, that the Learned, who assembled in the Library de Medici, avowed that Cicero could have done nothing better. After these two Essays, the high opinion Politianus had of his Abilities, made him fall to intriguing for the Profession of the Latin and Greek Eloquence. At the same time he became the Concurrent of Demotrius Calchondile, and topped him, by having a more pleasing Accent, and by strewing his Discourse with Points, and bloomy, flourishing Expressions, so to recreate his Auditory. Above five hundred young Gentlemen, of all Countries in Europe, went to fetch him every morning in his own House, to accompany him, out of Honour, to the very Hall where he taught, and reconducted him in like manner, when he descended the Chair. These Deferences gave him so whimsical an Opinion of his parts, that he fancied, to keep up so great a Reputation, he must set about more solid Works, than Verses, or Relations, or at least amuse the World with the expectation of some great Labour, and yet do nothing all the while. For this reason did he spend five whole years, without giving the Public aught else than Lessons. But at length the itch of Writing prevailing over his first design, he caused a Traduction of Herodian to be Printed, which had not all the effect he pretended: For tho' it was generally admired, a rumour was buzzed about, that Politian had found it among the Papers of the famous Gregorio de Citta di Castello, which he had bought; and this report was grounded on such Conjectures, as were but faintly destroyed. Pope Leo, who was then under Politian, and heard all that was said Pro. and Con at his Father's Table, being desired twenty years after, by the Academics of Rome, to tell them his Sentiments in the Case, left the thing in suspense, and undecided, and agreed, that the stile of that Translation, had nothing like to that of Politian's other works, and held more of the Paint, and Artifice, and Luxuriancy, which Gregorio de Citta di Castello was wont to use in his Compositions: He added however (as if he had been afraid of having said too much) that this Gregorio had done nothing comparable to this Version of Herodian. Be it as it will, the work is so finished and complete, tho' in some places it's too spruce, and over abounds with finical trappings, that none have yet dared to decide which is the best translated, Polybius, or Herodian. Politian, a Man extraordinary nice, in matters of Honour, spared nothing of what might hinder him from passing for a Plagiary. He published his Miscellanies and his Poetries: and as he was happy and persuasive, he would, perchance, have effected it, but for Death, which lopped him off at forty two years of Age. The Criminal passion he had for one of his Scholars of high Quality, not being to be satisfied, it cast him into a burning Fever. In the violence of the fit, he made a Song for the Object wherewith he was Charmed, got out of Bed, took a Lute, with so tender and piteous an Air, that he expired in finishing the second Couplet, the same day that Charles the 8th past the Alps in his way to the Conquest of Naples.  
I cannot better finish this Book, than by the Eulogy of Giovanni Pico Sovereign Prince della Mirandola, and of Concord. This Prince, surnamed the Phoenix of the Wits, with so much justice, that none have grudged him that Title, was born in his own state, and the eldest of a Family that boasted being descended from Constantine the Great. The Prodigies which appeared in Heaven, and upon the Earth, at the moment of his Nativity, testify there never had been, and perhaps would never be such another Genius. He studied not any thing, how difficult soever, but conceived it at first. He found not any Author obscure enough, to put him to one moments plunge. He penetrated by his own lights, into Euclid, and the Algebra; he found the secret to reconcile Aristotlé with Plato, and Scotus with Saint Thomas. At ten years old, he studied the Law at Bologne, and Commented gradually as he studied. At eighteen years of Age he knew two and twenty Tongues. And at three and twenty, he sent over all the World, his so celebrated Theses, by which he undertook to establish such certain Principles, and discuss the principal difficulties of all Sciences in general, and of each in particular, without using other terms, than those that were proper to it. He challenged to answer in the same Tongue he should be questioned; he invited the Poor to the Disputation, as well as the Rich, and offered to pay the Charges of their Journey. He chose the City of Rome for the public Conveniency; and the Theses were maintained there, with such a Concourse of Learned men, as had never been so great in any place. The Respondent was the beautifullest Man of his Age, and such an one, as was capable of gratifying th● Eyes and Ears at the same time. He had 〈◊〉 noble lofty mien, tall, and of a transcendent shape, and such as is attributed to Heroes, and his Body as well fashioned as hi● Wit. He had also this peculiar to himself that his Application to the most towering abstruse Sciences, made him neglect nothing 〈◊〉 a gallant Garb, and well-dressing, that conduced to heighten Lustre, and captivate Affection He had the knack of explaining his conceptions so easily, and with so good a Grace, tha● People were never weary of hearing him He neither confounded the Words nor Phrases of so many Tongues, wherewith his memory was freighted. The tone of his Voice was agreeable. He sweetened the most serious Discourses, with fine and innocent Railleries', that they might go down th● more glib. He became the more Eloquent gradually as he grew warm, and his Answers were so pat and solid, that it cou'●● never be observed, whether he had mor● Wit, or Judgement, or Memory, so many amazing Testimonies did he give, of his possessing those three Qualities, in a degree superior to other Men. However, as h●● admitted all sorts of Persons indifferently t●● Disputation, and had inserted in his Positions the Cabala of the Jews, the Defence of the most exalted Christian Mysteries, by Natural Reason, and the nicest Passages of the Councils, Fathers, and Ecclesiastical History; some there were, who unable to attain to the sublimity of his Notions, taxed him with Heresy, and made such a Noise and Clamour, that the Pope was upon the point of suspending the Disputes; which, being intimated to the Prince of Mirandola, he besought his Holiness to give him the leisure to purge himself of the Crimes imputed to him, and principally of that which most shocked the Demi-Learned, namely, of maintaining that Origen was saved, notwithstanding his Definition, contrary to the Fifth General Council; and tho' busied all day long in answering, yet he compiled in seventeen Nights that wonderful Apology, which cannot be read, without a Man's being startled, to see so young a Prince equally strong upon all sorts of matters. He triumphed o'er all those, who would have put his Religion to the arbitrement of each private Noddle, and composed his own Epitaph, which is only to take it aright, a Commentary upon the first Chapter of Genesis, wherein the Creation of the World is explained after so ravishing a manner, that there is no penetrating farther into the meaning of the Holy Writ. Afterwards his strict engagement with Lorenzo de Medici, rendered them Companions in Study; they daily communicated to one another, things they had learned or meditated anew; they sent one another their Works, they corrected one another's Compositions, and from one of their Conversations have I discovered, how Lorenzo wri●● a Dialogue of Love and Fortune, so tender and ingenious, that the Prince of Mirandola (after having examined it) let him know, when he returned it him, that he had not observed the proportion of Ages with sufficient exactness, and how Venus had not so many Charms, when she issued from the Froth of the Sea, as he gave his Cupid, though he only represented him as a Child newly born. This stroke will suffice to judge, how acquaint and delicate was those two great men's Criticisms. I have not been able to find out the true Cause, that set the Prince of Mirandola to write against Astrologers; nor am I satisfied with that alleged by his Nephew. I lay a much greater stress upon a Conjecture, which came into my mind, upon reading his Apology; that it might be the Professors of the Judicial, very rife at that time, having made their advantage of some Propositions in his Theses, seemingly in their favour, he thought himself obliged to prevent, by a public disclaiming of those Tenants, the benefits they might thence derive. Be it as it will, the Alarm this gave them, was so hot, that they assembled to resolve what course they had best to take. They calculated the Prince of Mirandola's Nativity, and found two remarkable things. The one, that he should not put the last hand to his work against them; and the other, that he should not exceed thirty two years of Age. They sent to signify this doom to him, at which he made a mock. But the event justified their Prediction: for as this Prince was completing to undermine the Foundations of their Science, he was seized with a Fever, which knocked him off in thirty days space. It has been observed, that he breathed his last in the very moment that Charles the 8th. entered Florence; and that the Library de Medici was dissipated, as if hazard had taken him out of the World, in a Conjuncture, when he was going to be bereaved of the Originals of the Ancients, without which he could not live. He had been so concerned at Savanarola's Predictions, that he was upon the point of renouncing the World, and going (after the Apostolic manner) to preach the Gospel through the Villages. However, his Work against the Astrologers, (as imperfect as it is) is nevertheless the best that has been composed, since those of the Fathers of the Church.  
The End of the Fourth Book.   

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS. The Fifth Book.  
ALL the Italian Historians of the last Century suppose, that Piero de Medici's imprudence undermined all the Foundations laid by his Predecessors, for the aggrandizement of his Family. But none have yet precisely shown, wherein that Imprudence consisted, nor its Results and Consequences. I undertake the representing them here in order; and for my being the better understood, I begin with the Portrait of him, whose Errors I mean to describe.  
Never did Son resemble less his Father, than Piero de Medici, and never Father had so much Antipathy for a Child, as Lorenzo had for Piero. It seemed as if Nature had only formed the one for the other, to set herself at odds, by a division of her Provinces, and to invest two contrary Objects with all her Virtues and Vices, without giving any thing to the Son, of what she had put into the Father. Piero de Medici possessed all the qualities wanting in Lorenzo, but had not so much as one of those in him admired. His Body was incomparably well made, and especially the finest Head that had been ever seen. He was of so strong and sound a Complexion, that not any excess was capable of staggering it. So much strength had he at seventeen years of Age, that not a Man was there, but whom he fling in wrestling. He was extraordinarily expert and clever in all Exercises, serving to fashion young Gentlemen. His mien was altogether Martial, when he appeared armed at all points; and the Judges of the Tournaments owned, no Man knew how to break a Lance with a better Grace than Piero.  
His Wit was vast and piercing, but so ill turned, he could not use it to advantage. Nor capable was he of Friendship, nor of Secrecy; had no application but to Pleasures, and only of good humour in Hunting and with Ladies. The time spent in concernments of the Republic, he reputed as lost, and went not to the Council, save when he had no shift left to dispense him from going. He neglected the Complaints made him against the Subalternate Magistrates, and thought it below him to have an Eye to their Deportments. The Friends of his House could not get admittance to his Speech, till after having a long while danced attendance in his Antichamber, that their Zeal had had the leisure to i'll, and other Citizens of Florence could have no access to his Person. It spighted him infinitely, when People discoursed him upon the Modesty of his Ancestors. He ridiculed their Oeconomy, principally in what regarded the Table. Insupportable was his Pride in a Town, where all the Gentlemen thought themselves one another's equals. And his Luxury came to seem the more exorbitant, when compared with his Fathers and Great Grandfather's Thrift, and good Husbandry. His Anger no less sudden, nor less dangerous, than that of Alexander; for instance, poor Leoni, whom, at Careggio, he threw into the Well; but with more ease appeased, since there needed no more for the putting him into a good humour, than a Song or Lay of Music, or the Sound of some pleasant Instruments. His Tutor, Politian, had observed him never to be troubled with Splenatick Humours, as long as he heard good Verses recited in his Native Tongue; and to derive advantage from this observation, a sort of Diurnal Academy was held a● his House, where the Poets came daily to rehearse their Works in the Tuscan Dialect and there received the approbatim or censure they deserved.  
With this so whimsical temperament▪ Piero de Medici found himself encharged with the principal Direction of the Florentine Affairs, and remained not long in that Capacity, which served for as many steps to● help him to descend into the Precipice.  
The first is, he had got a fancy of making Love to all the fair Women of Quality, and was so little discreet and moderate in the assiduous visits he paid their Ladyships, that their Husbands, and his Friends were almost equally scandalised.  
The second, His Mother, of the Lineage of the Orsini's, thinking it convenient to marry him, so with Matrimony to extinguish his fickle Flames, she proposed to him a beauteous and rich Heiress of the stock of Orsini, called Alfonsina, whom he wedded; but had as much disgust for her, in a few weeks after his Marriage, as he had shown fondness for the Match. The first time he saw her, he used her so scurvily, that he was hated for it by all his own People, who could not (without resentment) see him renew his Libertine way of Living, from which they had pretended to tie him by this Wedlock.  
The third Fault was, That for some Discourses of a double meaning, which scaped from two of his Cousins, called Lorenzo, and Giovanni de Medici, whom it behoved him so much the more to have considered, in that they descended from Male to Male, from a Brother of Cosmo the Old; he caused them to be chastised with a perpetual Banishment, however great his Interest was in their Preservation, and whatever Remonstrances his Friends had made him upon so nice a Subject. From whence it came, that these young Gentlemen being retired into France, were kindly welcomed at the Court of Charles the 8th, where they so strongly prepossessed Cardinal Brissonet, and other the Ministers, to Piero de Medici's disadvantage, that when he went to this Prince, the Persons nominated to negociate with him, did in no wise credit his Proposals and Asseverations, nor would they trust him, but under good Cautions, which occasioned his Disgrace.  
The fourth Fault was, that Piero de Medici had so good an Opinion of his Wit, as to fancy, he might cully Lodovico Sforza, Duke of Milan, who cullyed all Mankind. Sforza, after having seized the State and Person of the young Duke, under colour of Tuition, thought an high Alliance needful to maintain him in his Usurpation. The Princess Isabel of Naples, seemed to him fittest for his design, not only on the score of all the House of Arragon's support, at that time strictly combined, but because this Princess had the blaze of the most accomplished Beauty in all Europe. But an Obstacle there was to surmount, which seemed invincible; for that young Princess had been solemnly promised to the young Duke of Milan, Lodovico Sforza's Nephew, from whence he had in view, that besides the Breach of word, to which the House of Naples would hardly be induced, it must likewise be brought to Consent, that the Princess should marry a Subject, after having been promised to a Sovereign, to which, it was well known, the high Spirit of that House would in no wise suffer it to hearken.  
Not but that Lodovico Sforza did himself sufficiently manifest in his Discourse, that he meant suddenly to be Duke, and already projected in his mind, the poisoning of his Nephew, which he since committed, when the Armies of France had assured him of Impunity. But in short, the thing was not yet effected, either that the occasion served not yet, or that he had still left in his Heart some natural tenderness to surmount. Moreover, were the Crime committed, such a Course was so strange and novel among Christians, that the King of Naples, already much hated, would not have dared to give his Daughter to a Man suspected of such an Action; and Lodovico Sforza well perceiving that he would stand aloof from the same Alliance he must Court by this step, so of necessity to be made for its attainment.  
However, as Ambition finds nothing impossible, when tuned to the key of Love; Sforza sent his Confident Galeazzo da san Severino to Naples to negotiate underhand, that the Princess might be granted him, under the Cant of the Duke his Nephew's being so ill, that he could live but little longer.  
The King of Naples had an extreme repugnance to this Alliance, and yet would have been brought to a Compliance, as labouring under a great dread of Sforza's Artifices, if it had not been opposed by the Duke of Calabria, his Eldest Son, a man of less Experience, and more Courage than Old Ferrand▪ It has been believed, that this was upon the Princess Isabella's Solicitation, who, according to her Device, was no less Lofty than Beautiful. They add, that her Brother and She, treated as Ridiculous Galeazzo damn sa● Severino's Overture, and in that Envoy's presence made a mock of some Infirmities, to which Sforza was bruited to be subject.  
Galeazzo da san Severino informed Sforza of these Transactions, who took strange measures to wreak his Revenge on the House of Arragon. He caused his Nephew to drin● a Potion, which bereft him of Judgement▪ and then suffered his Match to be Consummated with the Princess of Naples, for the giving her the vexation of having married a Fool, and perhaps likewise for having her in his Power, when become a Widow. He was contriving the means to exclude the Duke of Calabria's Succession to the Crown of Naples, and found not out any other way, than to make him the Conquest of Charles the 8th. He sent to solicit this Prince to come into Italy, and to pursue with his Arms, his Ancestors Pretention upon the two Sicily's.  
France made some difficulty at first to engage, as not having Friends enough in Italy; and Sforza, after having taken upon him to Conduct in all safety its Armies, as far as the Territory of Florence, made the Council of France hope he would attract Piero de Medici into the most Christian King's Interests. This was no easy matter to effect, seeing the Florentines had, a little time afore, signed a League with the Pope, and the House of Arragon. But the same Galeazza da san Severino, of whom I have already spoken, had orders to endeavour to break it. He accosted Piero de Medici, who could not fail of repartying; that when the French King was Master of Naples, it would be easy for him to subdue the rest of Italy. Galeazzo, whom Sforza had commanded to break his mind to Piero de Medici, took him aside, and disclosed to him in Confidence, and under the Rose, that his Master's Design was indeed, that the French should come into Italy, but not there to stay; that he knew how to send them packing beyond the Alps, after having made them his Implements to humble the Duke of Calabria. Piero de Medici, not being capable of keeping so great a Secret, revealed it to so many Persons, that it came to Charles the 8th his Ears, and he made heavy Complaints to Sforza, who found no other way to purge himself, but by consenting, that the French should put Garrisons into all the Important places in their Passage. But in recompense, he conceived an irreconciliable hatred to Piero de Medici.  
In the mean while the French advanced, and as soon as they approached Tuscany, they summoned the Florentines to come to a Declaration. Piero de Medici committed then a Fifth Fault, which I only glance upon, it being already registered in History. He went and put himself into their hands, and got not thence, till after having delivered up the Fortress of Pisa, Leghorn, Seruzana, and Pietra Sculta. This fired the Florentines with so much Indignation, that one of them, Verli by name, shut the Door upon his Nose, when he came to take his Seat in the Council. This Exclusion persuaded him he was utterly lost. Home went he, took Horse, and without being followed by more than two of his Domestics, who could not endure to see him go away alone, he departed Florence, and scoured away to Bologna. So sudde● and so shameful a retreat, quite discredited him with his Friends as well as Enemies. Both Fancied he must needs be more culpable than they had imagined, and so have dreaded the utmost Punishments, since he fled away in a time when his Country needed most his Presence. Upon this Prejudice, they passed through all the Proceed against him, that are wont to be exerted against Criminals; Arraigned he was of Contumacy, pursued, his Estate seized, set to sail by Public Outcry; they sold at a low Price, that prodigious mass of Movables, Pictures, Antics, and Manuscripts Collected in the space of seventy years, with so much Pains and Curiosity. And by a Capricious effect, the Grandeur of the House of Medici, never glittered more, than during the two or three Weeks it was given up to Pillage.  
Said I have, that Piero de Medici had two Brothers, Giuliano, and Giovanni the Cardinal. Giuliano was in the House, when the eldest departed thence, and accompanied him; but the Cardinal being out upon a Visit, found more difficulty to make his escape. At first he thought to take refuge in the Convent of St. Marco, built and founded by his Ancestors, and lurk there till the storm was over; but the Religious more timorous than grateful, declined, with Excuses, giving him a retreat. Then he had recourse to the Cordeliers, who made him lay aside the Purple, and clad him with one of their Habits, by favour of which, he passed, without being known, through the Gate of St. Gal, and went to join his Brothers. The House of Medici seemed now so humbled, by so terrible a Squelch, that it could not of a long time be possible for it to get up again. However, it was upon the point of being re-established, in a few days after this Disaster, if Piero de Medici had not himself thwarted his own happiness, by a Caprice, which pawled Fortune in such manner, that she utterly turned tale, and never more would she stir in his behalf.  
Charles the 8th being informed of the Disorder which happened in Florence, drew near it, and made his entrance into that Town, in the posture of a Conqueror. Alfonsina degli Orsini laid herself at the King's Feet, holding in her Arms a Son of hers but lately born. Her Tears melted the Hearts of all present, and made her find Friends in a Court where she was utterly unacquainted. Two persons were there of the King's Attendants, who shared the Favour, the one in quality of Principal Minister, the other, as Favourite. Cardinal Brissonet had the Province of Affairs, and possessed his Master's good Opinion, without seeking any other support than his own Merit. And the Count de Bresse, the Duke of Savoys Brother, having more affinity with the Age and Temperament of Charles, was one in all his Pleasures, and lay at watch for a Conjuncture proper to supplant the Cardinal. He knew this Old Minister had declared an averseness to Piero de Medici, and was prejudiced with the opinion, that the King's Authority could not subsist at Florence, save during an equality among the Citizens; that must be extinct when the House of Medici should be invested with Sovereign Power.  
To destroy this supposition, the Count de Bresse (after having backed his Design with a strong Cabal) represented to the King, that as his Majesty could not stay at Florence, it became him to think of maintaining that City in his Party; that the safest and most Commodious way was, not to leave there the Popular Government, then newly Erected, by reason it would be exposed to continual Seditions, not to be calmed, save by a Powerful Garrison, which France was not then in a Condition to leave; that much better it would be, to recall Piero de Medici, and reinstate him in Affairs with so good a Grace, as that he might owe to France the whole Obligation of his Restauration, since the gratitude for so great a benefit, being united with the concern of Self-preservation, would link him in an inviolable Union with France.  
This Reason had the Ascendant, though neither solid nor specious, for that the King did not then think so much of doing things safely, as of expediting them with the soon. A Courier was dispatched away to Bologna, to advise Piero de Medici to return to Florence, but the Courier found him not. He had taken exception, for that Bentivoglio, when he received him into his Palace, had blamed him for being Bugbeared with his own Shadow, and for banishing himself from the best Station in Italy, without being pushed, or laying his hand to his Sword, he who pretended to so much Bravery. This Correction was unseasonable, and so much the more harsh to support, as being conscious of its being well grounded; but it became him to pardon this Irregular Discourse, in such an impetuous and severe Man as Bentivoglio, who feared the Bolognesi might unite after the Florentines Example, and constrain him in his turn, to seek out a retreat, in lieu of affording it to others.  
In the mean while Piero de Medici thought Bentivoglio had talked thus out of Raillery, or to slur upon him a Bravade And as Persons in distress have more Diffidence than ordinary, he suspected he might be betrayed, since in his own Presence he was turned into Derision. Hereupon he projected to seek out another place of safety, and departed on the m●●●●w without saying whither he went. Insomuch that the Courier having neither been able to find him, nor get tidings of him; Charles being oppressed to leave Florence, was obliged to leave it in the State he found it. Eight days after, Piero de Medici was known to be at Venice, where Virginio Orsini, his Ally having brave Troops, treated with him for his re-instation. He advanced Courageously into the very sight of Florence, but the Correspondence he had in that place not keeping tack at the time prefixed, compelled he was to return thence, after having advised Piero de Medici to take his measures better another time. This first Essay did for a long while dishearten those who were able to form others, and gave all the leisure necessary to the Enemies of the House of Medici, to put invincible Obstacles to its re-establishment. But as People are almost ever mistaken in the choice of Men, when they do it in haste; it happened that Bernardo Neri, whom the Florentines Elected for Gonfalioniere, was the most ardent and best intentioned of the Medici's secret Friends. Nevertheless his Magistracy was continued for three years, but almost wholly spent, without his finding any occasion of doing them an Office, as being ever obstructed by Savanarola.  
This Religious of St. Dominick was very Learned, and the most knowing Man that had been in Italy, since the Age of the first Caesar's. He lived in great Austerity, and checked Vices in all sorts of Persons, with a boldness, by some styled Temerity. He had foretold so many extraordinary things, which falling out all in the Circumstances he had noted, he passed for a great Prophet: and the Florentines were so strongly persuaded of his Sanctity, that they even Canonised him, during his Life time His real and supposed Talents made him act in Florence, with as much Authority, as if he had been Sovereign, since they not only deferred to his Counsels in Public Assemblies, but he was moreover the Umpire of Domestic matters, and decided quarrels arising between Husbands and Wives, without there ever being any inexecution or complaint against his Decisions and Decrees. He was prepossessed with the Opinion of the Florentines being more capable of the popular Government, than of any other; and for this reason had he endeavoured to ruin the Designs of the Medici, as seeing them addicted to confer the first Offices of the State, on the Principal and Richest Citizens, that so the People might be disaccustomed from exercising them, and suffer 'em to enjoy them with the more ease, when they came to talon them with an Usurpation.  
Savanarola bottomed his Practices and Interests upon the same Principles, by calling the vilest Mechanics to the most honourable Functions, nay, and in willing they should officiate them with Gentlemen; I mean, that he thereby aimed to take away the ancient Antipathy, reigning between the Nobility and the Populace. But hence arose two notable Inconveniences; the one, that Gentlemen, the most capable of exercising the Magistratures, laid them down, as soon as they had heard their Colleagues named; the other, that Cobblers, for Example, were daily seen to squat in their Stalls, after having laid aside their Robe of Magistracy. This appeared so ridiculous at first, and in process of time, so very much spighted the ancient Nobility, that Neri found the Nobles almost wholly inclined to uphold their Rank.  
The first who unbosomed their Intentions to him were, Giacomo Ridolphi, Lorenzo Tournaburni, and Giovanni Bueci. Others declared their Minds as occasion served; but there was not as yet the least glimmering of success for any attempt against Savanarola, as long as the People were on his side, and now this Emergency was expected would bereave him of their Affection. The main Policy of the Medici had ever been, that the Florentines should never want either Bread or Divertisements: and as they had neither an Egypt nor a Sicily, to make largesses of Corn, in imitation of Augustus; they had retrenched their Craft to effect, that the Grain should cost no more one year than another. For this purpose they took care to lay up Stores in Granaries, from whence they were fetched in time and place, when there had been many barren years together. They took out of the public Treasury, or their own Coffers, the surplusage of what this Grain cost; and when the Famine was general in Italy, and throughout all Europe, they encharged their Factours in Asia and Africa to buy up Corn at Cairo, and on the Coasts of Barbary, to fraught with it their Ships, and convey it safely into Tuscany.  
As Savanarola was not in a Capacity to do the like, he felt the Counter blow upon the first scarcity that happened. His having Prophesied the want, availed him not in the least; on the contrary, the Florentines took it so much the more in dudgeon, that he had used no remedy in the case. Many of the Mobile no longer showed so much Zeal for his Person, and others burst out so far as to twit him, that he would do better to remain in his Cloister, than be fumbling, groping, and fribling in a way he did not understand. Neri, seeing the Disposition he expected, framed a Party, which seemed sufficiently strong to reinvest the House of Medici. He gave Piero the necessary Intimation, and advised him to come with the most Troops he could get together, without making much noise.  
Piero de Medici having not much Credit among the Soldiers, had recourse to Bartolomeo de Lalviano, newly acknowledged head of the Family of the Vrsini's, upon notice of Virginio's being poisoned in the Castle of Loeuf, at Naples. Lalviano, reputed the most active and determinate Adventurer of his Age, listened to this Proposition, and set about achieving it. The day was appointed, and the time of Midnight chosen as the most Commodious. The Conspirators concerted their Measures with Piero de Medici, and Secrecy was kept by all Parties. Lalviano's Soldiers used incredible expedition, and met at the Rendezvous, but four Leagues from Florence, with Piero de Medici, who set himself at their head. But in the very moment they began to file off in good Order, there fell so great a Rain, that instead of the six hours they had reckoned to accomplish their March in, it cost 'em twelve; so as it was already broad day when they came before the Town. They would nevertheless have surprised Florence, there being not the least inkling of their Design, and that the Conspirators were not wanting to keep the Gate, agreed on, open. But Chance alone frustrated their foresight, Paulo Vitelli commanding the Florentine's Army before Pisa, had wanted some Directions; and as it was an Affair of moment, he had thought his Presence necessary, to procure dispatch. Being on his Journey, but delayed by the bad Wether, he arrived exactly at the Gate, through which Lalviane and Piero de Medici were going to enter, when he heard behind him a Body of Horse advancing full speed. He lost neither presence of mind, nor judgement; and suspecting what might possibly be the Design, he himself hall'd up the Bridge, shut the Gate, and gave the Alarm. The Citizens flocked thither, and Savanarola, one of the first, they pointed the Canon against Lalviano's Gross, who judging, by the Countenance of the Florentines, that nothing was to be expected from the Faction in his Confederacy, he persuaded Piero de Medici to a Retreat, both keeping in the Rear of their Men.  
For two Months together search was made in vain, after the Authors of the Conspiracy, nor had they been detected, but for one certain Autelli, whose Audacity was so great, as to give up to the Magistrates, a Servant of Neri's, without having any other Evidence, but his seeing him Armed, on the day Piero de Medici offered to enter. The Servant being taken into Custody, had showed to him the Instruments of the Rack, told all he knew, and the principal Complices were imprisoned. Their Indictment being drawn up, Savanarola too late perceived the danger, in punishing so great a number of illustrious Criminals. Francisco Valeri had most concern in the Sentence, and prosecuted it with more heat than others. He was Savanarola's best Friend, seconded him in all hardy Enterprises, had contributed to his gaining the repute of Holiness; but, in recompense, ruin'd him, by refusing to Sacrifice to the public Good a petty Interest of Revenge. Now these are the Circumstances I have been able to find out upon so delicate an Affair. I omit others, because that, of so many Authors who speak of Savanarola's Catastrophe, there's not one but is prepossessed with Passion for or against him.  
Valeri was Neri's mortal Enemy, and resolved to ruin him at any rate. The Conjuncture for the bringing it about could not be more propitious. Neri was convicted of the Conspiracy; but, not with any Face, could they punish him singly, seeing he appeared no more culpable than his Complices, wherefore they were all to be Condemned to the same Punishment, or Pardoned; and Savanarola, contrary to Custom, was of Opinion they ought to be Reprieved. He conjured Valeri that it might be so; remonstrated to him the Consequence, representing that all the other Criminals were either his Allies or Friends. But this Bloody minded Man, merely out of the Pleasure he should take in Neri's Punishment, had regard nor to Reason nor to Amity. The Sentence of Death was pronounced, and never, in a small State, were there seen more Eminent Persons Executed in one day.  
This rejoiced the People at first; and at long run, as is usual, turned 'em tender and compassionate. So many re-doubled Executions created a Horror in them; they accused Savanarola of the Butchery. And the Nobles not thinking their own Power sufficient to ruin that Religious, without hazarding the Government, engaged the Court of Rome for its own Interests, to second their Endeavours. Savanarola had Preached against the Vices of Pope Alexander the 6th, with the same Freedom he used in snubbing and rebuking those of private Persons. Had added, in the heat of his Discourse, how he was not afraid of being Excommunicated for speaking in this manner; and that it was sufficient to give his Enemies the pretext they had so long expected, to seize his Person, as not believing that the Head of the Church, could retrench a simple Monk from the Communion of the Church. They took their measures with the Pope, who sent them Forces. Savanarola's Monastery was broke open, after a wonderful resistance of his Friends, who ran in upon the noise. He was found in his Chamber at the Feet of a Crucifix, put into Prison, seven whole days spent in taking Informations, examining his Case, and drawing up his Indictment, during which, he made a Commentary upon the Psalms of Penitence, which the most hardened cannot read, without some sense of Devotion. At last he was Condemned to the Flames, which he suffered with a Constancy seemingly Christian. Valeri, the Author of his ruin, merely to gratify his Lust of Revenge, was neither tunning enough, nor diligent enough to make his escape. Those who went to invest his Mansion, met him coming out, assassinated him, ran up to his Wife's apartment, served her in like manner, and plundered the House.  
The Florentines were no better inclined, in regard of the Medici; on the contrary, the aversion of Savanarola's Friends, who charged the Medici's with his Death, induced the Florentines to redouble and produce new Obstacles to their return. Giuliano de Medici had taken refuge at Milan, where he acquired Lodovico Sforza's Friendship, and had engaged him to espouse the Interests of his House. The Army Sforza had on foot began to act in Tuscany, on that Design, with much Vigour and Success, when the Venetians unmasked their Intentions a little too soon, as to the Treaty they managed underhand with the Inhabitants of Pisa, in order to receive their Homage, on condition to cause the Siege of their Town to be raised, which the Florentines had then two years continued.  
Sforza had no sooner the news, but he conceived a jealousy: and the aggrandisement of the Venetians, whom he looked on as his most formidable Adversaries, made him change Conduct towards the Medici's. He sent one of his Emissaries to the Florentines, to reunite them among themselves; and his Forces, which laid Tuscany waste, had Orders to join those of Vitelli, and to press the Siege of Pisa. They helped that General to ruin the Army of Venice, that had unadvisedly hampered itself in the Apennine, and were the principal cause of the Accommodation Hercules, Duke of Ferrara, since negotiated, and concluded between the two Commonwealths, on Condition, that that of Venice, should abandon the City and Territory of Pisa, to the discretion of that of Florence.  
The Recoil of this Accord falling on the House of Medici, (because it redoubled the Forces of its Enemies) made it despond of being reinstated. The Eldest of the three Brothers, after having exhausted in the Foregoing Attempts, the effects his Father had left him out of Florence, was going to serve in quality of Volunteer, in the Troops of King Lewis the 12th, who meditated the Conquest of the Duchy of Milan. His younger, Giuliano, of a humour more sedate, withdrew to the Petrucci's, invested at that time with the principal Authority in Sienna, where he Cozened his time in Love and Gallantry. And the youngest taking upon him the Title of Cardinal de Medici (tho' it was as yet the Mode to call Cardinals by the Name of their Benefices) went to travel throughout Europe with Giulio his Cousin, as yet neither passing for a Bastard nor Legitimate, and a train of twelve Persons. He put himself into the disguise of a bare Cavalier, to avoid Expense, and would not suffer any difference to be observed between himself and his Attendants. They were all mounted and clad alike, had taken Warlike Names, and every morning drew Lots, who should be owned for head of the Company, and give Orders that day. This Conduct which they kept out of Precaution, furnished them with so many occasions for Mirth and Laughter, that the Cardinal since owned, amid all the Delights of the Papacy, that in all his Life he had never been better Diverted, not but that new Traverses befell him from time to time; for they were known in the City of ulme in Germany, from whence the Magistrate sent them under a Safe guard, to the Emperor Maximilian the 1st. But the Cardinal de Medici, having unveiled his way of Travelling to that Prince, who still entertained a Respect for the memory of Lorenzo, he was received magnificently by his Imperial Majesty, and got Letters of Recommendation to Philip, Arch Duke of the Low Countries, that he might see the more commodiously the seventeen Provinces.  
At his leaving of Flanders, he had a design to Embark at Calais, for England. But the Sea was so rough, that those of his Train inclined him to see Normandy, till it was Calm again. As he was at Haure de Grace, waiting for a Ship for his Passage, a Frenchman having born Arms in Italy, knew him, and went to discover him to the Governor of the place. The Governor stopped him with all his Retinue, and clapped 'em under Guards. Nothing did it avail the Cardinal de Medici, to declare his Name, and demand to enjoy the Privileges of his Character; stay he must in Haure, till the King, then at Milan, had consented to his enlargement. Piero de Medici was happily with his Majesty, and served for Warantee of his Brothers having no other Design in his Masquerade, than of Husbanding his Purse.  
Thus the General of Normandy had order to write to the Governor of Haure, to set free the Cardinal de Medici, who changed his Purpose of going into England, and chose rather to cross France, in order to take Shipping at Thoulon, and make Sail into Italy. He saw all Curiosities on his way, and being seized with a storm in the River of Genova, it constrained him to put in at Savona.  
There he found the Cardinal of St. Peter in Bonds, who had made it his Sanctuary against Pope Alexander the 6th. his irreconcilable Enemy. St. Peter ad Vincula treated there his Brother, with all the Politeness natural to him, and would needs have Giuliano de Medici, then beginning to wear the Cross of Rhodes, to be the third at Table. There they discoursed their Concerns with more Freedom, and less Reserve, than if they had known they were to be all three Popes, so little appearance was there of the vicissitude which occurred in their Fortune.  
Cardinal de Medici returned to Rome, under colour of attending upon the Pope, during the Jubilee of the year 1500, just going to begin; but in reality, as having learned that the Duke de Valentinois, the Pope's Son, had such Designs, as could not speed, but by the re-instation of the Medici's. And indeed this Duke, after having oppressed by an Infinity of unheard of Crimes, all the Petty Sovereigns in Vmbria and Romagna, aspired to subdue the Republics of Tuscany. And not being Potent enough to undertake to force them all at once, he pretended to strike up an Alliance with that of Florence, that she might help him to subdue that of Sienna. However, there was no likelihood of bringing her to it by Offices and Persuasions, the Florentines being too subtle and sagacious, not to penetrate to what end they were to be Implements against Sienna. Thus they were to be induced to it out of Fear.  
This was the Cause of Duke Valentino's receiving the Medici's into his Army, with all imaginable Civilities, and of his promising them their re-instation. He drew near Florence with such brisk Troops, as made it not doubted, but he would reduce it to strange Exigencies, when Piero de Soderini, Neri's Successor in the Office of Gonfalioniere, devised an Expedient which saved his Country. He went to find out the Ambassador of France at Rome, and remonstrated to him so efficaciously the most Christian King's Interest to maintain the popular Government at Florence, thereby to keep on Foot a League of Communication between the Realm of Naples, which his Majesty meant to Conquer, and the Duchy of Milan, which he had already in Possession, that the French Ambassador pressed the Pope, to make his Son retire into the state of the Church.  
The Pope, not daring at that time to deny the French, they being then too powerful in Italy, wrote to the Duke de Valentinois to decamp from off the Territory of Florence, Duke Valentino obeyed, as seeing the French would constrain him to it, unless he did it readily and with alacrity. But as he was the craftiest Man than living, he tore the Letter in pieces, without reading it out. He cursed his Father, and declared he would not decamp. Soderini took the hint, and apprehended that all the Grimaces of the Duke de Valentinois only tended to hedge in Money, which he durst not demand for fear of offending France, which Crown would have compelled him to refund. Now to elude his Pretention, there needed no more than making semblance of not understanding his meaning; but as the stay of his Troops did more damage in four and twenty hours, than the sum amounted to, with which he thought he would be content; Soderini made no difficulty of offering it him, nor the Duke Valentinois of accepting it, and dis-lodging.  
The following year, 1501, the Medici's made their fourth Essay on this Pretext, that the Florentines had caused their General Vitelli to be beheaded, because that having clapped him up in Prison on suspicion, found to be ill grounded, they fancied he was to be bereft of his Life, to hinder him from taking Revenge. Vitelli, his Brother, had put himself into a posture of punishing so black an Ingratitude, and the Soldiers flocked from all sides to second him. He brought an Army on foot, which wrought no less terror to the Florentine, than Duke Valentino's had done the year afore. And indeed Soderini had no sooner perceived it, than that he took a journey into France, by which only the Tempest could be laid. He obtained a Dispatch to the Governor of Milan, whom Lewis the 12th commanded, to compel Vitelli instantly to disarm, or march against him with all his Forces. Vitelli having no Martiallized Troops, would not stand the brunt, and so pleased the Florentines, by his Retreat, that they Created Soderini perpetual Dictator.  
The vexation this Created to the House of Medici, was so much the more reasonable, as that Soderini possessed all the qualities capable of obstructing their return into their Country, as long as the continuation of his Magistracy. He was Wise, Liberal, Mildred, and Provident; never committed any Injustice; and though obliged to favour the Commonalty, to whom he was indebted for his Dignity, he so carefully avoided discontenting the Nobleses, that not any Gentleman had reason to complain of him, during his Administration. He Corresponded with the Court of Rome, by the means of the Cardinal his Brother. But, as he put his principal Confidence in the Protection of the French, he lived in such good Intelligence with the Cardinal d' Amboise, the Most Christian King's Prime Minister, that there must of necessity have happened a general Revolt in the Duchy of Milan, afore the Republic of Florence could change Face. Nevertheless, not only the Duchy of Milan was then secure, but moreover France had the most powerful Army in Italy, that had been seen there for several Ages, in order to take the Kingdom of Naples from the Spaniards.  
But what plunged the Medici's quite in despair, was the misfortune which befell the Orsini's, on their account. This Warlike Family had engaged itself to serve among the Troops, under Duke Valentino, after having failed reinstating that of Medici, its double Ally: and as this ill success had diminished nothing of their Amity, the Orsini's having discovered, that their General treated with the Florentines, to deliver up Piero, Giuliano, and Cardinal de Medici, whom he had then in his Possession and Power; they being all three come to him upon his Word. They gave them notice of it by a Note, which obliged them to withdraw without taking leave; Duke Valentino, who expended much in Spies, was at length informed of the Cause, which had hindered him from earning a hundred thousand Crowns, that were already told out at Florence, in order to be given him on that score. And as he had resolved, with the Consent and Connivance of his Father, to exterminate the most eminent Roman Families, he hastened to invite the Members of the Orsini Clann, to the Feast of Senegaglia, where they were so ill advised as almost all to meet there, to perish by a Perfidy well known to all the World.  
Their Deaths put the last hand to the undermining all the hopes Piero de Medici had left for his Restauration, and so flatted his Spirits into a total Despondency, that from that time forward, he acted as a Man irrecoverably lost. He took Party in the French Army, a little afore its being dispersed at the Passage of Garillan. He looked upon that Rout, as an effect of the Disasters that haunted him in all places, and would needs there finish his Life. Nor was it without Violence; that some of his Friends, faithful to the last, got him to go with them aboard a Vessel, carrying Artillery, wherein he suffered Shipwreck at the Mouth of the River, and was drowned. His Brother the Cardinal received the news of his Death at Rome, being repaired thither, to Congratulate the Cardinal of St. Peter in Bonds, upon his advancement to the Popedom. He had met with a fainter Reception than he expected from St. Peter's Successor, after the protestations of Friendship they had mutually interchanged at Savona. But the impossibility of the good effect of any other Course, compelled him to pay his Attendance, and make his Court to his Holiness.  
Nevertheless, so little affinity was there in their Humours, that the Cardinal de Medici did quickly perceive, the Pope would never have any Affection for his Person, how assiduous soever in his Devoirs, for that his Holiness had no other Inclination, than for Military Virtues, and only valued Men according as he found them inclined to War. Yet the Cardinal de Medici had no Talents, save for the Court, and for Intriguing, to which the Pope did not love that any one should be addicted.  
This is the Motive put the Cardinal de Medici upon contriving indirect means for his Preferment. That which did his business came from the Assiduity he paid to the Cardinal-Nephew, called Galeotto, much about his Age. He had observed this young Cardinal to have no Passion, save for Luxury, and to be only Charmed with what was glittering to his Eyes. He felt in his Heart a like Disposition; and tho' he had not the means to indulge it in all its extent; yet, strain he did, to imitate, as much as possible this Cardinal Nephew, and resolved at the same time, to supply by Neatness and Politeness, what he wanted in abundance.  
He found People who lent him Moneys, to make the bravest, gentilest Train; and the Equipage of Hunting, which he kept, had I know not what, so peculiar, and gallant, that bating two or three old Cardinals, whom it scandalised, not a Person at Rome but esteemed him the more. No place of the Town afforded better Eating and Treating than his House; for tho' he had not served upon his Table, the prodigious number and quantity of Dishes, which the Princes and Cardinals loved to pile and faggot upon theirs, the Nice found the Ragoo's to be most exquisite upon Medici's Board, such a Faculty had the Patrons gay, facetious Humours, at gently supplying to Luxury. But what attracted most People, was his Chamberlain, Bibiana, whose Match had never been, for entertaining of Company. Well enough made was he of his Person, and retained nothing of the Village, his Birth-place, save the Name he bore.  
His Wit so pregnant in Inventions, upon whatever matters applied to, that those who knew him intimately, averred him an inexhaustible Fountain of Joy. He made a pleasing, handsome Reception to all People, had ever an hundred new Stories, for provoking Mirth and Laughter, without ever bolting aught, or Impious, or Low, or Immodest. Sometimes the Fancy took him in the midst of the Repast, to prepare Sauces, which never came into any Cook's head. He set about it, and ever performed to the gusts, and contentment of the Guests; or that he was Master of the Art of soothing People's Tastes, or that those who judged of his Performances, helped to deceive their own Palates and Judgements. In a word, he still furnished, after the meal was done, ingenious ways for Joy and Recreation, for a whole Afternoon together.  
Yet, in this, Bibiana's topping Wit did not consist, nor was it the most material Service that he did his Master. He had the knack to engage Persons to lend the Cardinal Money, without giving them Security for repayment, or furnishing them with other Mortgage, than the Scheme he had caused to be erected of the Cardinal de Medici's Nativity, which promised this Prelate immense Riches, and maintained he would owe nothing at his Death, which proved true. But there was then so little shadow of such a vicissitude, that the World could not sufficiently admire his own Boldness, and his Creditors Credulity.  
The Learned frequented the Cardinal de Medici's Palace on another Motive; for tho' the Library of his Family had been rifled, yet it had only lost the Manuscripts, which the King of England had caused to be bought of the French Soldiers. The rest clutched by the common People, and the Suizzers, were redeemed at a low rate, by Persons affectionate, to the House of Medici, and restored to the Cardinal, by Soderini's Connivance, he being overjoyed that he drew from Florence, all to him belonging, that he might have no pretence left for returning thither. The Cardinal, after having placed conveniently his Manuscripts, invited Men of Learning to come study in his Palace. They were civilly received, Persons were at hand capable of solving their difficulties; Conferences were weekly held, at which the Cardinal often assisted, and spoke in his turn with a gracefulness, as Charmed all his Auditors.  
But, as his Predominant Passion was Music, and as he Sung, and Composed to admiration, Consorts were kept, in which the most Expert endeavoured to acquire or augment their Repute. Thus his Home being become the most curious Retreat in Rome, the Cardinal Nephew meeting only in Medici's Palace, his Darling Diversions, resorted thither often, and finding the Master's Humour conformable to his own, struck up with him a strict Union and Friendship. He told his Uncle, that the Esteem he entertained for the Cardinal de Medici, commenced from a Discourse he had heard him make, to show how a Worthy Man never wants any thing, provided he is not first wanting to himself. And the mutual tye of these two Cardinals became so strong, that the Pope's Nephew engaged to promote, by all possible means, Cardinal de Medici's Election, when the Holy See should fall vacant. But he knew not of his dying before his Uncle, and that he should not be in a condition to perform his Promise. A burning Fever, three years after, cropped him off in the Flower of his Age. His death so sensibly afflicted Cardinal de Medici, that he would have been disconsolate, but for an advantage he thence derived, beyond his Expectation.  
The Pope, who had an extraordinary fondness for his Nephew, fell to cherish such things as could sweeten the memory of him, and became more familiar with Cardinal de Medici. He would needs have him tell him what they had performed together most gallant, and suffered him insensibly to make some Digressions upon the Restauration of his Family: Nay, he one day told him, he might endeavour it without being disowned, provided he did not expose his Purple, or the Authority of the Holy See. And the Cardinal, who could not then expect to obtain any thing more, formed in Florence a new Party, by the help of his youngest Sister. Her Name, Lucretia, and Nature had endowed her with so little Beauty, as put her under the constraint of Wedding Giacopo Salvieti, a Person nor the Chief, nor the Richest of his Family; but in recompense, she abounded so in Wit, that she insinuated herself into the good Humour of all that knew her. She proved extraordinary pregnant, and the multitude of her Children, made her afraid of one day wanting necessaries for their subsistence. The means to provide against such a Calamity, was to contribute (as much as in her lay) to the re-establishment of her Brothers, but she met very great Obstacles in her pursuit of this Design For her Husband had been one of Savanarola's Intimates, and his mind was still prejudiced with the Maxims of that Priest. However, as there is hardly any thing, but what Women obtain from those who love them, when they persevere in their colloguing Importunities, Lucretia de Medici at last, enticed Salvieti to act obliquely and against his own Interests and Sentiments, and to solicit underhand, the calling back of a Family, which he foresaw must needs, one day, bereave his Country of its Freedom.  
Nevertheless, he went so craftily to Work, as gave not the least hold on him; for whereas those who had gone before him in this Project, had declared it openly, he kept his Game close, and only Caball'd in such manner, as to discredit Soderini, and thwart all he aimed at having done. He found most of the Nobles in the Disposition he desired, and in three months' space, hampered the Dictator in such a Perplexity, that any other than he, would have despaired of getting rid of. The Dictator proposed not any Person to the mind of that Critical Faction. Whatever a Man's Abilities might be, he was ever put by, when proposed by Soderini; and if any one suddenly allowed of, it was such an one as of whom they hoped suddenly to have occasion to make Complaints, so to reject upon the Government, the Faults he committed. The Dictator's best actions were ill interpreted, and the least aggravated beyond probability. They tanged the Good, and added to the Bad, that so they might have the more dangerous effects; but all this was only Froth of the Sea against a Rock.  
Soderini only confronted Patience against so many Contradictions; but this Patience being ever equal, broke and surmounted, at the long run, all that jostled it. He used this address, of whose Knowledge, it would be a Crime to rob the Reader. He had still fresh Men to present in the room of those, against whom Salvieti and his Cabal had past the Exclusion, and the Merit of those Men so Conspicuous, that the Malignity would have been too palpable in rejecting them. They, as soon as in Employment, were most peculiarly solicitous to commit no Faults, as seeing themselves too narrowly watched; and when they had tripped and blundered, they chose rather to be their own Accusers in Public, than give occasion to their Adversaries, to heighten their Failings, by Malevolent Calumnies and Impeachments.  
Soderini protected them, on his part, with an ingenious firmness; he ever gave the People pertinent Reasons for his Conduct; he kept underhand credible Agents enough among the Populace, to inform him of News, according as they were buzzed about; and laying down for Principle, that nothing could alter the Government of Florence, as long as the French were Potent in Italy. He maintained his good Understanding with the Majesty of France his Ministers, and left Vulgar Concerns to take their wont course. And indeed, tho' Cardinal de Medici lay still at lurch, and the number of his Friends augmented daily at Florence, forrced was he to wait for a stronger Machine than his own, to stagger the Foundation of Soderini's Greatness.  
Pope Giulio having banished from his Heart the Inclination he had fostered for France, above thirty years together, became its greatest Enemy, and grasped at nothing less, than the recovering from that Crown, all it held beyond the Alps. To execute so magnanimous a Project, not a more fitting Minister had he, than the Cardinal de Medici, as being most concerned in the Design, and the Pope fixed his Eyes on him to be its principal Instrument, by Creating him Legate of Bologna. The Cardinal de Medici accepted this Commission, rather to evade the Duns and Importunities of his Creditors, beginning to persecute him, than out of any prospect he had of Success. In a few days after his Arrival at Bologna, he performed an important piece of Service to the Ecclesiastical State, by discovering a Party, framing to restore the Bentivoglis to the Possession of that agreeable City. Then he fell to observing Soderini, who seeing France embroiled with the Church, caused the Florentines to declare in favour of the Most Christian King, tho' he well enough foresaw the extraordinary accumulation of Troubles he was going to draw upon his Back.  
The French not having found a Holiness hardy enough to thwart them directly, since Boniface the 8th, who had been so unsuccessful in so doing, showed at first an irresolution, as redoubled their enemy's Courage, then perceiving their fault, fell of a sudden into the other extremity, which consisted in keeping no more measures with the Pope. They accused him of having ascended the Throne of Saint Peter, by two irregular ways, those of Simony and Fraud. To justify the Simony, they instanced the Benefices and Legations promised in the Conclave, and given after the Election to the Cardinals, Heads of the Faction, and specified the sums of Money which the other Cardinals had received for the price of their Suffrages.  
To lay open the deceit, demonstrated it was to the same Pope, that the Spanish Cardinals being engaged by Oath, to give their Votes only for him who should be proposed to them by Duke Valentino; the Cardinal of St. Peter in Bonds, that Duke's sworn Enemy, had him persuaded, by suborned Persons, into a Belief of his being his Father; that he had had Commerce with his Mother, at the time she seemed to abandon herself only to Cardinal Borgia, afterwards Alexander the 6th, that the jealousy this same Borgia had conceived of him, had been the only cause of the Persecution he made him suffer, for above ten years together; but now the thing in hand, being the Creating another Pope, if he'd favour his Promotion, he'd treat him as his Son. Duke Valentino crediting what had been told him under the Rose, gave so far way, as to consent, that the Cardinals of the Faction should Elect St. Peter in Bonds, who failed not immediately after to divest him of all Romagna and Vnbria, instead of owning him for his Son.  
In process of these Mysteries, which the French openly revealed, they formed a Party of eight Cardinals, the most considerable of the Sacred College. Dean Carvaial was one, upon a Promise made him, of choosing him, after Giulio was deposed. And San Severino, who, having ever been a declared Partisan for France, thought it an Infamy to abandon that Crown, in a Conjuncture, when the Pope was the Aggressor: but the most esteemed of all, was the Cardinal Soderini, Brother to the perpetual Dictator of Florence.  
This Prelate, in the common vogue, had all the qualities requisite to the being a Pope. Learned, Serious, Bold, and Stayed in all his actions, had ever lived in such sort, as that he could be upbraided with nothing of Incontinency, dishonouring Giulio's Papacy. And the severity of Life he affected, gave room to hope, that, when Pope, he would usefully labour to the reformation of Manners. Not but that he had two Infirmities capable of balancing so many Virtues, namely, Ambition, and Avarice; but he masked them with so many Precautions, that they only seemed a loftiness of Soul, and an inclination to Thriftiness, which all the Florentines ●●d the imputation of bringing from their ●others Womb. The consideration of his ●●other, and his own Merits, made France ●●ve him a greater share in its Concerns, ●●an to the other seven of the Faction. And ●s their Interests were inseparable, France had most influence in all to him proposed. However, the subtlety of his Wit, had made ●im discover a way, he judged infallible, for ●he attaining his aim, if it appeared he stood Neuter: For, if France had the advantage, ●●d the Pope deposed, it would be obliged to ●●t him in his room, as not being able to ●●nd any Subject in the Sacred College, in whom that Crown could put so much Con●●●ence, as in him: and if the Pope remained Conqueror, the firmness he should have ex●●ted, by remaining with his Holiness (tho' ●ll his Relations and Friends were in the Adverse Party) would serve him for a strong Recommendation in the future Conclave. Upon this Chimerical Ratiocination, Cardinal Soderini gave the French King's Minister's, in Italy, to understand, and persuaded ●●em, that they must leave, at least, a Trembling Cardinal, of their Faction, at Rome, to ●ave an eye to Giulio's Conduct, and to give ●uch true Advices, as that they might afford ●hem Credence, without fearing to be mista●en. Then he offered to be the Man, who should act so dangerous and difficult a part Taken, was he, at his word, as imagining the bare Zeal he had for France, made him say it. Thus Giulio being departed Rome, to go to Bologna, the seven Cardinals left him on the Road, and gave out, that their Intention was to hold a Council, after the Example of that of Constance, for the reforming in it the Church, in its Head and in its Members. They wanted, for this purpose, a City, on the one side not too far remote from the Theatre of War, and on the other, safe from Surprise. And S●●erini was desired to lend them that of Pisa. He sufficiently foresaw, that if he did so, he should render the Pope his irreconciliable Adversary, and give a plausible Pretext to other his Enemies, to decry his Administration. Nevertheless, he did not one moment hesitare to grant it, whether the Demand seemed to him equally just and necessary, or that he was already too far engaged to go back.  
Thus the Council was convened at Pisa And the Pope, a Pretender to Intrepidity, dreaded it at first; but was re-incouraged by Antonio de Monte, the famous Lawyer, whom he had made Cardinal at the first Promotion. This Monté represented to him, tha● two notable Flaws were in the Convocation of the seven Cardinals; one, That the term of four Months, therein prescribed to all Bishops in Christendom, to come thither, was too short; and the other, the City of Pisa. Whereupon he exhorted the Pope to avail himself of these two Faults, not by shunning and declining a Council, which would render him Criminal, in the Opinion of most of the Faithful; but by Convening another Council, in a place he was Master of, and where, by consequence, nothing could be decided to his Prejudice. The Pope followed his Advice, ●nd called, on his side, a Council for the year following, 1513, at Rome, in the Church of Lateran. This Action maintained Giulio in the Pontificate, by dividing the Believers into the uncertainty, of deferring to the one or other Council. Cardinal de Medici made admirable advantage of this, to reconcile, in Tuscany, his Friends with those who could not brook that the seven Malcontent Cardinals should draw up the Pope's Process. He put so many Men in Arms that the Garrison of Florence, which guarded the Council, was not sufficient to Ward and Target it from insult.  
The Council wrote their Distress to the Most Christian King's Ministers, in the Duchy of Milan, who sent them immediately, with M. de Lautrec, four hundred Men at Arms, the briskest of the French Army. This re-inforcement gave the House of Medici's Friends the occasion▪ they had so long waited for, to Spirit from Soderini's Party, the common People of Florence. Their Emissaries made their Complaints ring from Quarter to Quarter, how Soderini, that perpetual Dictator, who boasted his being so passionate for the welfare of his Country, yet made no scruple of delivering up to Strangers, a City, which the Florentines had not reduced, till after a War of eighteen years.  
As the common People of Florence had been furiously Cock-a-hoop and Passionate, to see those of Pisa reduced under their Laws, the bare apprehension of Lautrec's setting them again at liberty, though false, cancelled the Affection they had for Soderini▪ This change rendered the Nobility more bold, and made them write to the Friends they had in Pisa, that they should in no wise brook the French to be strongest in that place. There needed no more to foment a Sedition, from whence the Pope, and the House of Medici derived great advantages. The Officers of the Florentine Garrison, at Pisa, after having represented to their own Soldiers, that their Interests, and the Honour of the●● Country, were concerned, to be the only Guards to the Council, they revived the jealousy of the Citizens, by ask them in way of Raillery, whether it was to try the Virtue of their Wives and Daughters, that they Quartered the French in their Houses. Thus the first Contest that happened degenerated into a horrible tumult. The Citizens and Dead-payes nabbed the French at unawares, cut 'em in pieces, and Lautrec himself had there lost his Life, but for the generosity of the Magistrates Son, who disengaged him from the midst of a Seditious Rout, by whom he was surrounded.  
The Council having understood the Hubbub to be general, and that the French plied and yielded ground, were under apprehensions that the Seditious might deliver them to the Pope, and as there were no hopes for Mercy, if it so happened, it dissolved itself, and each Member of it betook himself to his ●eels, flying that way where his wounded ●●agination directed him for safety. The se●●n Cardinals never drew Bit, till they were 〈◊〉 the Duchy of Milan; and the Sedition was appeased as soon as Pisa was cleared of Strangers. Soderini had too much experience, not to know the Check his Authority ●eceiv'd, by so sudden and so eas●● a Revolution. He set about repairing it. And fain ●ou'd he have persuaded the Cardinals and ●ishops to return to Pisa, where he offered to have them guarded by Troops Levied in Tuscany, Trusty and Loyal to him; but he talked to People, whom Fear had bereft of their Judgement.  
Soderini made the Proposal of it; but Cardinal de Medici's Friends, having had the leisure to make their Cabal, treated it as ridiculous. The People were also of Opinion, it to be in no wise for their safety, to incur the Displeasure of the Court of Rome, nor expose themselves to the thunder of the Vatican; and the Assembly broke up, without coming to any Result. Thus the Council was compelled, upon the Adjournment, to continue its Sessions at Milan, while the Armies acted on either side, to support and to destroy it.  
The Cardinal de Medici, being Legate in that of the League formed for the Pope, caused Siege to be laid to Bologna, where the Bentivogliis were newly reinstated. Gasto● de Foix relieved this place, by the quickest and boldest Action recorded in History, and fought the Battle of Ravenna, where the Confederate Army was defeated. The Cardinal Legate being taken Prisoner in tha● Action, go●d luck would have it, that h● fell into the hands of Cardinal da san Severino, performing the same Function in th● French Camp. Their ancient Friendship was renewed in that Conjuncture; and san Severino, more a Soldier than a Politician, permitted Medici to send a Gentleman to Cesana; whither his Cousin Giulio, who already took upon him the Title of the Commander de Medici, had made his escape. This Gentleman carried Giulio a safe Conduct, to go and come to the French Leaguer in safety.  
The Cardinal da san Severino imagined, he of Medici had no other drift, than to send his Cousin to Rome, there to solicit his Ransom, but this proved a mistake: For the Cardinal de Medici foreseeing the Consternation, the loss of the Battle would occasion in Rome, intended to reincourage the Pope, by giving him to understand, by a Man of Credence, such an one as the Commander, That the Concerns of the Conquerors were in a worse Posture, than those of his Holiness. And indeed, the Commander's Journey was the principal Remedy of the Pope's Affairs. His Holiness being just upon the point of flying from Rome, and going to embark at Ostia, as having newly discovered, that the Vrsini's were in treaty with the ●rench to take him, and lead him by main force to the Council.  
The certain advices the Commander brought, of the Feebleness of the French, and the Harangue he made of it in full Consistory, where the Pope would have him heard, caused the Resolution of scampering, to be changed into that of setting the Army again on foot. The Expedient broached by Cardinal de Medici, in his Letter for the compelling the French Troops to disband, was approved in all points, and Merits being known.  
He demanded an absolute Power to be sent him, to absolve the French, who had fought at Ravenna, without specifying the fruit he pretended to reap thereby, and the Brief accordingly was forthwith expedited. The Commander carried it to the Cardinal de Medici, who had been Conducted to Milan; and the Cardinal was industrious to get it rumoured among the Soldiers. Such as had tenderness of Conscience, flocked in Crowds to receive Absolution; and as the only Penance imposed on them, was not to fall any more into the same Fault, the Companies began to be very thin and clear in a few days. There happened another inconvenience, little less to be feared; for those who had been absolved, valuing themselves, upon despising the Council, received, with hissings, the Citations made to the Pope, at the Door of the great Church. From hence proceeded the Entreaties, which the Council made to the Most Christian King's Ministers, to cause the Cardinal de Medici to pass the Alps, which they did not grant, till constrained thereto. And indeed the General of Normandy, Intendant of the French Army, having disbanded almost all the Infantry, out of an unseasonable piece of Thrift, the Forces of the League being re-established, by a reinforcement of sixteen thousand swizzers, which the Bishop of Zion had Leavy'd upon his own Credit, in favour of the Pope, drew near the Milanese with such Alacrity and Boldness, as made the Fathers of the Council judge they were not in safety, in the Capital City of that Duchy. They had permission given them to go into France, and the same Troops, which served them for Convoy, had order to Conduct thither the Cardinal de Medici. This plunged that Prelate into so great a Melancholy, so much the deeper bottomed, in that he could expect no less, than to languish in an eternal imprisonment, if he passed the Alps: for as his Quality, and the Function he performed, in the moment of his taking, induced those who had him, to set his Ransom at an excessive Price, and, that besides, his House was so absolutely Ruined, that it had no other recovery, save in his Person. The Pope, whose humour, prone to Tenaciousness, being not pressed by any Potentate to redeem him, would never do it of his own accord; and the Cardinal's Consideration coming to diminish, a thing inevitable, according as he should remain longer in Prison, in process of time they would make no more account of him, than of a Man in his Grave.  
This Motive determined him, by all the means possible, to seek the occasion of making his escape, afore constrained to pass the Alps. He conferred about it with the Abbot Bongalle, taken and left with him, in quality of Chamberlain, and their Resolve was, the endeavouring to Corrupt some or other to attempt their rescue. They had, for this purpose, the Money given them, for Certificates of Absolution, and the sum sufficiently considerable; the number of those demanding those Certificates, being so great, that the Cardinal and his Servants had been constrained to drudge at it Day and Night, during their abode at Milan. They had also some Rings, which the generous Countess Bianca Rangoni had accommodated them withal, in their passage through Bologna, and the Cardinal de Medici had, all his Life long, so tender an acknowledgement for this Obligation that he thought himself still indebted to that fair Lady, after having made one of her Son's Cardinal, and the other General of the Armies of the Church. But he met with, on the way, so few Persons proper for the perpetrating his Design, that he arrived on the brink of the Po, in the Territory of Florence. The Fathers of the Council still trembling, were obstinately earnest to pass this River that same Evening, so to put it between them, and the Pope's Men, whom they fancied at their heels. They found Boats ready, and in they went. But the Cardinal de Medici dreaded passing it, through a contrary Sentiment; for he foresaw, that after his Passage, no more means would there be for his escape. The anxiety he lay under, gave him the grudging of a Fever, which served him for a pretext to ask of the Soldiers, who stayed about him, the permission of passing the Night in the Village of Carro, standing upon the River, on the Milan side.  
Two things made them not deny him this Request; the one, that the Marshal de Trimulee had ordered they should use him with due Respect, and all possible Civility; the other, that the Vineyards of Carro being much esteemed, the Soldiers not attending the Fathers of the Council, did not want much entreaty to sup there. Thus Cardinal de Medici was left in the Village; and the Abbot Bongalle, after having had him put to Bed, and taken with him his Money and Jewels, went to find out a Gentleman of his acquaintance, called Rinaldo Zacti, at his Castle not far distant. This Zacti was an Old Cavalier, had served till grown hoary in his Armour, and did not retire home, till after the French, whom he hated, were become Masters of the Duchy of Milan; he had made semblance of accommodating himself with them, that he might enjoy in quiet, the beauteous Lands he possessed along the Po; but, in reality, only waited for an occasion to injure them, without ruining himself. He received very civilly the Abbot Bongalle, and testified much joy at the news he told him, that (according to all appearances) the French were going to be driven out of Italy. Bongalle finding him in so favourable a disposition, disclosed his Design, withal proposing Cardinal de Medici's Rescue, after having proved this Cardinal to be the Worthiest Member of the Sacred College, and so in reason to be the most considered of those, who pretended to the Papacy. Nevertheless, they were leading him into France, where sure he was of ending his days in the same Prison, wherein Lodovico Sforza died at ten years' end, if not suddenly snatched from a score of Drunkards, who began to guzzle and drown their Senses in the Inn of Carro. The remembrance of Lodovico Sforza, whose Menial Servant Zacti had been, revived his aversion to France, and the easiness of saving the Cardinal de Medici, flushed him with the desire.  
Nevertheless, he did not positively engage, and gave no other promise to the Abbot Bongalle, but of going to Communicate the business to a Gentleman, called Visimbardi, his Neighbour and intimate. Friend, tho' he had sided with France. That if Visimbardi would be of the Party, they two together should be strong enough, with their Domestics, to rescue the Cardinal de Medici, and would not fail of undertaking it; but if that Gentleman refused him his Assistance, it was not to be hoped he would hazard alone, a Rescue of that Consequence.  
The Abbot Bongalle was little satisfied, with seeing the liberty of his Patron remitted to the Caprice of a Man of a contrary Faction. However complied, for want of a better Expedient, and only asked Zacti, by what means he might know if Visimbardi would second him, or not. Zacti replied, that if this Gentleman did not espouse the undertaking, no news were from him to be expected, but that if he did, he would send him word, for a token, by a young Boy, that all was ready. Bongalle returned to Cardinal de Medici, to render him an account of what he had done, and gave him not so much Hope as Fear. Zacti, on his side, found Visimbardi far from the design, he meant to inspire into him. Nevertheless, he represented to him with so much efficacy, that affairs were ruined, that no measures were to be kept with People flying and scampering, and that Wisdom required the reconciling one's self with the conquerors, by rendering them an eminent piece of Service, that Visimbardi gave way, and promised Zacti to meet him about one a Clock at Night, with all the Friends and Domestics he could get together.  
Zacti returned home to make ready, and commanded a young Boy to go to the Inn of Carro, ask for the Abbot Bongalle, and tell him, all was ready. The Lad, on the way, forgot half of his Commission, and remembered nothing more, when come to the Inn, save ask to speak with the Abbot, without adding any proper name: The Person the Child spoke to, was a French Pedee, who hearing him mention an Abbot, imagined him to be the same, to whose care the Fathers of the Council, upon their passing the Po, had recommended the Cardinal de Medici. They had conjured him not to suffer him out of sight, and to make him pass the River very early; for that intent the Soldiers of the Guard had a most peculiar Order to obey him.  
The French Boy calls this Abbot; and the Child, not knowing Bongalle, believed it to be the same then present, thought he was to do his Message, and tell him, All was ready. Then would the Lad have gone his ways, but the Abbot he had spoken to, not knowing what he meant, stayed him, and asked him several questions, which he did not so handsomely clear, tho' he pretended to come from a poor Peasant, whom he called his Father, but that the French Abbot suspected some Mystery.  
He commanded the Soldiers to redouble their Vigilance, for the guard of their Prisoner, and went himself to find out the Ferry. Men that they might make ready to carry over the Cardinal at break of Day, while the Cardinal and his Chamberlain were under strange disquiets. As they had had no inkling of the little Boys adventure, they conceived Zacti to have failed in his word to them, or that Visimbardi refused to second him. They despaired of their delivery, after having spent the Night without hearing any Noise, or receiving any Notice. And it was not so much with a set design, as through a kind of retchlesness, which Persons fall in when destitute of all hopes, that the Cardinal de Medici was still musing in his Bed, when summoned to make ready to pass the River. Up got he, mounted his Mule, gave his Benediction to the Passengers, thronging to receive it at the Inn door, and so suffered them to lead him where they listed.  
The two fore Feet of his Mule were already in the Boat, when he heard a noise behind him, which made him turn his head. 'Twas Zacti with Visimbardi, who came full Gallop, crying. Liberty. They surrounded the Cardinal to preserve him from danger, during the Conflict, which they expected to be sharp; but the French seeing the March unequal, chose rather to abandon a Prisoner, whom it was no longer possible for them to keep, and throw themselves into the Boat, just at hand, than to engage in a Combat, to them unprofitable, even tho' attended with Success.  
Thus Zacti and his Companion remained Masters of the Cardinal's Person, and not daring to take him home to their own Houses where they expected search to be made; Visimbardi urged the Conducting him to Barnabo Malaspino's Castle, as being a place near enough the State of Genova, for them there to take Refuge, in case of pursuit. Malespina being their Friend, at first made them a kind Reception; but after they had told him their business, and showed him the Cardinal de Medici, then in disguise, and passing only for a Cavalier of their Train; then Malespina put on a more serious look, remonstrated to them their Imprudence, in having ventured their Lives and Fortunes, to save a Person, to them indifferent; accused them of coming only to his House, to render him the Complice of their Crime, and using them as Enemies, sent them surlily away, after having taken from them the Cardinal de Medici,  
He shut up the Cardinal in a Tennis-Court, till such time as he had received directions from the Marshal Trimulee, Governor of Milan, for France, what course to take with the Prisoner Fortune had put into his Hands. Trimulee received Malespina's Courier in the very time, that two French Soldiers, of the number of those who had been pushed by the Confederate Army at the Pass of Mincio, had put Milan into a Consternation, by divulging, that the Enemy would be suddenly at the Gates. The mischief proved much greater than reported, for that the French Army, after this defeat, despairing of retaining Milan, marched away towards the Alps: So as Trimulee had no more measures to keep with People that abandoned him, notwithstanding he had sacrificed all for them. He wrote a Letter to Malespina, to advise him to make a Friend of the Cardinal de Medici, by letting him go, provided he did it with such Cautions, as not to seem the having contributed to his Escape.  
Malespina followed this Council, and went by night to the Cardinal de Medici, in the Tennis-Court, let him know the importance of the Service he meant to do him, and agreed with him that one of his Servants should open the door, and keep him Company, that Malespina might rumour it abroad, the Cardinal had Corrupted him. The thing passed as projected; but the Cardinal went not far without falling into the Banditti's hands, who dismounted him, took what Money he had, and killed Malespina's Servant for standing on his defence Then the Cardinal wandered alone up and down the Fields, without wisting where he was, till he met a Curate, who knowing him led him into his Presbytery, made him the best Cheer he could, and lent him his Mare to carry him as far as Plaisanza.  
He arrived at that City a moment after it had put itself, of its own proper motion, under the Pope's Obedience; insomuch that the Cardinal de Medici, who entered in disguised laid hold of the Conjuncture to make him self known, and took upon him again the Badges of his Legation. He dispatched the most urgent affairs, and departed immediately after for Bologna, with a sufficient Convoy. There he found the Inhabitants busied with driving out the Bentivogliis, and in setting up the Arms of the Church. They accepted him for their Governor, till the Pope should otherwise Decree. He received the Bull of it with so much the more joy, as that Fortune could not send him an Employ more commodious, to lie at catch for his Family's re-establishment in Florence. And indeed the Deputies of the Pope, of the King of Spain, and of Italy, being assembled at Mantova, to regulate the Revenge to be inflicted on those who had assisted the French; Giuliano de Medici being sent thither by the Cardinal his Brother, demanded permission to return into his Country. Soderini had foreseen this Request, and dispatched his Brother to Mantova, to disappoint it. Thus the affair being of Consequence, and the Parties present, they were allowed to debate their Pretensions in Public, before the Deputies of the League.  
Giuliano de Medici maintained, that the Florentines ought to be treated as Disturbers of the Peace of Italy; and undergo the Penalties ordained by the Roman Law, against the Disserters of the common Cause, seeing they had sent Succours to the assistance of the French, in the Land of Milan. Soderini's Brother, being a great Lawyer answered pertinently to the Accusation, and rendered it ridiculous. He owned the point in issue, but showed a Treaty the Florentines had concluded, long afore, with the French, for the giving one another mutually a limited Succours, if needed by Tuscany on one side, and the Duchy of Milan on the other.  
He added, that the Spaniards, holding the first Rank in Italy, after the Pope, had so little thought this Treaty prejudicial to them, in what related to the Kingdom of Naples, that the Republic of Florence had thereunto consented. And how it was, by virtue of this Treaty, that the Great Captain had received Cavalry from Florence, when he disputed the Pass at Garillan; that with exception to the Articles stipulated in those two Treaties, the Florentines had inviolably observed the Neutrality, that their Colours had neither been unfolded in the Army of Gaston de Foix, nor in that of Marshal de la palace, and that the two Parties had been equally received and furnished with Provisions, in their passage through Tuscany.  
These Reasons were concluding, principally in regard of the Spaniards, the principal Judges in the Case. And 'tis not doubted, but that Soderini's Brother haid gained his Cause, if he had spoke before Judges as disinteressed, as they were Intelligent. But as they had to do with Soldiers, who knew not how to do Justice, without thereby reaping Profit, one of his Friends, advised him underhand, not to trust so absolutely in the merits of his Cause, that this should hinder him from distributing, in the Assembly, the Gold and Silver he had brought along from Florence. He slighted the Advice, and reparteeed, that if he did it, his Brother would have reason to tax him with Prodigality, and upbraid him, that he had had a very ill Opinion of his Cause, since he had offered to Corrupt his Judges.  
Giuliano de Medici did not follow the same Course, and poured out whole handfuls of Gold, which the Cardinal his Brother had borrowed from the principal Citizens of Bologna. The Assembly was almost wholly composed of Deputies of the States of Italy, and of Spanish Colonels, who having lost their Equipages, at the Battle of Ravenna, were contriving to set themselves up again, and were not affected with the Generous Sentiments, that would have made Impression upon the Viceroy of Naples, and the Governor of Milan, who had sent them. Insomuch that Giuliano de Medici taking them by their weak side, persuaded them, that the affair in agitation, was a thing of Grace, and not of Justice, and got from them a Sentence, in form of Proscription, against the Republic of Florence, tho' they had declared, two hours afore, to Soderini's Brother, that nothing could be more unjust, than the Pretensions of the Medici.  
Soderini having received the News of it, did not lose time, in declaiming against his Brother's Imprudence and Parsimony. He took out what was most precious in the Public Treasury, and putting it into the Hands of his principal Confident, called Giovanni Giacopo Albizzi, sent him to Raymond of Cardonna, Viceroy of Naples, to endeavour, by all means, the obstructing the Execution of the Sentence. Cardonna was a Man not of a humour to violate Equity, when the Orders of the Catholic King, his Master, did not enforce him to it. He had disapproved the Result of the Assembly of Mantova, and made so kind a Reception to Soderini's Envoy, as conceived a jealousy in the Cardinal de Medici, who had spies about that Vice-King, and made him not doubt, but that he would thwart them, if the affair depended on him. And nevertheless, easy was it to see that he would be Master of the business, in case the least protracted. Wherefore necessary was it to induce those who had newly proscribed the Florentines to departed immediately, to go themselves execute the Proscription, and Giuliano de Medici disposed them to it, by new Presents. The Duke of Attio and Petro de Padillo, who had been Corrupted, marched thither the Spanish Infantry, and the Pope's Troops had orders to follow them.  
The Duke of Urbin, the Pope's Nephew, Commanding these Forces, had more Interest to buoy up Soderini, who could not injure him, than re-establish those who did not love him. He practised all imaginable shifts, to dispense his obeying the Pope, his Uncle, he caused the Artillery to be nailed, and would needs employ his Soldiers in some other expedition. But the Orsini's led him thither against his will, and the Spaniards being engaged in the Siege of Prato, where they met with a vigorous Defence; two Foot Soldiers observed a Defect in the Wall, and showed it to their Companions, who there forced the Place. All in it underwent Fire and Sword; and the news being carried to Florence, occasioned there a panic Terror. To remedy which, Soderini went himself to the Houses, and had those seized whom he suspected of Correspondence with the Medici. The Tumult increasing, compelled him to retire from the Guild-Hall to his own House, where, putting on a disguise, he fled into Dalmatia.  
The Medici's made their entrance into Florence, as in Triumph, and seizing on the Public Treasure, distributed the better part of it to the Troops that followed them, and paid their Debts with the rest. They disposed of the Government, according to their Fancy, and convening the People, obliged them to abolish all that had been done, during the eighteen years their Exile had lasted. Then they presented to them seventy Persons, such as were at their Devotion, to supply the Magistracy; and out of this number was it, that the two Supreme Councils were chosen, the one of eight Senators, who should Judge thenceforward, and without farther Appeal of Properties and of Life; and the other Ten, who should resolve the Affairs of Peace and War. They re-established the Charge of Gonfalioniere to be officiated, during two Months only, and the first they conferred it on, was their Brother in Law Ridolfi, who not daring to act overtly against Soderini's Friends, remaining in the City, devised retrospecting their past Conduct, so to fright them, and incline them to seek, of their own Election, another abode. The most considerable of those he persecuted, was the Celebrated Nicolo Machiavelli. This wonderful Genius was not of mean Birth, but had wanted Education. He knew so little Latin, that in writing upon Titus Livius, it is evident he did not well understand the Text he alleges, nay, and sometimes takes it in a wrong sense. As to the Greek Tongue, he knew not so much as how to read it; but he had the happiness to serve for an Amanuensis to the Learned Marcelio Virgile, who made him extract what was most Acquaint in good Authors, and gave him since occasion to enchase in his own Works, the finest strokes of Plutarch, of Lucian, and other the Masterpieces of the Greek Tongue, which are found therein, so delicately Translated. Yet was he not wanting to give an Idea, after his Mode, of a Prince, of a Senator, and a Soldier. As he had a Libertine Wit, and that his Manners were dissolute, he ever loved the Anarchical Government, and favoured only that of Democracy, as coming nearer Anarchy than the rest. He was of all the Factions that were hatched in his time, against the Medici, and Ridolfi having Convicted him of having been concerned in that of their Exile, caused him to be taken, and put to the Rack, to make him reveal his Accomplices. He endured it with an obstinate silence; and Cardinal de Medici not having consented, without regret, to his being tortured, caused him to be enlarged, and for a reparation, ordered him to have a great Pension from the Public, in quality of Historiographer.  
Thus Machiavelli wrote the eight Books we have of the History of his Country, whose stile is so blooming and Correct, that it's taxed with being too Finical and Tawdry. And principally in this, Boccacio's easiness and soft Liberty, has got of him the Preference. His Narration is sometimes Malign and Satyrical; and Marc-Musurus convinced him of it so clearly, that he durst not answer him. They will needs have too, that he has flattered his Countrymen, and exaggerated their Noble Actions; but I do not perceive that they have plainly shown wherein and how.  
His greatest misfortune lay, in his not being able to rid himself of the Inclination he had for Liberty, and of having ill practised the precepts of dissimulation he gave to others. He bolted now and then, even in his History, Testimonies of Admiration for Brutus and Cassius, a thing odd and unseasonable, in a Man designedly set to write, in order to insinuate into People's minds, the Dominion of the Medici. Nevertheless, his allowance was continued to him, having found the Secret of pleasing the Cardinal de Medici, in diverting him with admirable strokes and sallies of the finest Raillery, which he invented to admiration, upon all sorts of Subjects.  
One day that he counterfeited the Gestures and irregular Deportments, of some of the Florentines, the Cardinal told him they would appear very ridiculous upon the Stage, in a Comedy made in imitation of that of Aristophanes. There needed no more to set Machiavelli to work upon Clitia, wherein the Parties he meant to ridicule, are drawn so to the Life, that they durst not be angry, tho' they assisted at the first representation of the Piece, for fear of augmenting the public laughter, by betraying themselves. The Cardinal de Medici was so Charmed with it, that being afterwards Pope, he caused the Decoration of the Threatre, the Habits, and the very Actors themselves, to be removed to Rome, that so he might afford his Court the Diversion of that Play.  
Machiavelli found this turn to account, and received extraordinary Gratifications from Pope Leo, till that the Conspiracy of Ajaceti and of Almanni, to assassinate all the Medici's being discovered, they had violent tokens, of it's not being contrived without Machiavelli's Participation; but he had gone so slily to work, that nothing could be proved upon him. They durst not so much as apply him to the Torture, well knowing he would endure it, without making any Discovery. They contented themselves with discrediting him, and abandoning him to the misery a man is reduced, having spent all. He lay under the Imputation of a Profligate Wretch, and an Atheist. And the little care he took to purge himself, made what was said of him, genetally believed to be but too true. He unwitlingly occasioned his own Death, by taking out of Prevention a Medicine, which stifled him, but I have not found that he would receive the Sacraments, till after being constrained so to do by the Magistrates.  
The End of the Fifth Book.   

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS. The Sixth Book.  
CArdinal de Medici had not yet been three Months returned to Florence, when the Death of Pope Giulio the Second obliged him to leave that place, in order for his repairing to Rome. He made his journey in a Litter, by reason of an Impothume he had in those parts, which Modesty forbids mentioning, and travelled so slowly, that the Pope's Obsequies were already performed, and the Conclave begun, before his Arrival. He remembered Marcileo Ficino, his Father's intimate Friend, who had Erected his Scheme, at the moment of his Birth, and had several times affirmed him to be born under a Constellation, promising him the Papacy. But this Prediction had not so strongly affected him, as that of Erasmus, the famous Germane ginger, who an hour before the Cardinal de Medici entered the Conclave, signified to all the Cardinals there, that to no purpose was it for them to renew their Intrigues, and that infallibly not a Man of them should be Pope. The Faithful Bibiana would needs be the Cardinal de Medici's Conclavist, and served him with so much the more application, that his principa Talon lay for the Negotiation in hand, and indeed no hard matter was it for him, to gain for his Master the Suffrages of two sorts of Cardinals, who durst not hope to be chosen; one sort, because they were suspected to the Sacred College, as being issued from Sovereign Houses; and the other, by reason of their two green Youth, and the little Account they were in, as to what concerned the Election. As the Cardinals of Arragon and Gonzaga, Zion, Corneli, Sauli, and Petrucci Some also of the Pretenders were there, who promised him their Votes, on condition that Medici would give them his, in case they only wanted it to have the number sufficient. The first put to the Vote, was Cardinal Riario, and his Cabal was so much the more powerful, in that almost all those, who owed their Promotion to Sixtus the 4th, declared in favour of his Nephew, either that they hoped to share among them so many rich Benefices falling vacant, by Riario's Exaltation, or that they meant thereby to testify their Gratitude to the memory of their Benefactor. But two invincible Obstacles quickly checmated Riario's Fortune; one, that the young Cardinals were afraid this old Genoese, making Profession of living austerely, would oblige them to reform the Luxury, wherein the two foregoing Popes had suffered them to bask; the other, that not one of the Old aspiring Cardinals, could be prevailed with, to favour him with his Suffrage, so fully were they persuaded, that he needed but one or two Voices to make up the two thirds. The steddiness they showed, in not consenting to the Exaltation of any of the Young, made the Young knit, in their turn, a more strict Combination among themselves, not to give their Votes to the Ancients, and because they must agree among themselves, to avert the Public Odium, they resigned their Pretensions to Cardinal de Medici.  
They suffered their Faction to make a noise, as soon as form, and an hour after, known was it throughout all the Conclave, that there would be a young Pope, or none at all. Endeavours were used to disunite them, and he who set most Wheels a going, to bring this about, was Cardinal Soderini, who had such just Causes to obviate his most formidable Adversaries becoming his Master. But finding among them a too good understanding, and knowing besides the weakness of the Ancients, he did not doubt, but what he most dreaded would come to pass.  
I have already noted Cardinal Soderini to have been both the most Crafty and Self interessed of all the Sacred College; and Bibiana knowing this defect, attacked him there. He lured him with hopes of an establishment for his Brother, as advantageous as that of Florence, and proposed the Alliance of the House of Medici with that of Soderini, by the Marriage of Soderini's Niece, with the Cardinal de Medici's Nephew. Soderini found this offer to his advantage; and the Sureties having been given on both sides, he fortified the young Cardinal's Party, by joining it with those of his own Faction.  
Thus stood the Affair, when the Conclave was filled with Terror, by slipping in a Note to it, written from good Hands, intimating, that the Cardinals, who had convened, and held the Council of Pisa, from whence they were forced to shift into France, had took Shipping at Thoulon, and were coming full sail to enter the Conclave, before the Election was over. Certain it was, that their arrival would create great Troubles, and break all the measures taken by Bibiana, for the Promotion of Cardinal de Medici, because that, on the one side, the Cardinals coming from France, had been Excommunicated and Degraded by the late Pope, who had declared his Resolution, to have them burned before the Church of St. Peter, if they fell into his hands; on the other side, as they were Old Cardinals, they foresaw that their Co-Brothers, to fortify their Faction, and render it, by a new Addition, superior to that of the Young, would by all means let them into the Conclave. And in order to the taking off the Censures, and restoring them, would use the absolute Power, which the Conclave pretends to have, during the Vacancy of the Holy See, which would infallibly cause a Schism. It must needs be owned that never was Conclave so much at a plunge, as this would have been, had the Cardinals, they expected, come. But Providence, that destined the Papacy to Cardinal de Medici, eluded their Purposes by a furious storm, which seized them at their very putting out of the Port of Thoulon, and suffered them not to go on shore, in any of the places they desired to touch at, and left them not, till after having split their Ships, and thrown their Persons upon the Coast of Pisa, where the Magistrates were devoted to the Cardinal de Medici. These Magistrates knew that their Patron would not be chosen, if the Old Cardinals got this new re-inforcement, and for the preventing it, they seized their Guests, under the sham's of consulting their Preservation, and the Security of the Town.  
They gave them to understand, that their Heads had been set at a Price; and that as Tuscany was very much infested by the Banditti's, there would be People greedy enough of the two thousand Crowns, that had been promised to whoever should bring their Heads to Rome, as to waylay them with a design to kill them, if they undertook their Journey before the new Pope, upon the point of being Elected, had moderated his Predecessors Sentence against them. Little did it avail the seven Cardinals to declare, that they would run the risk of that, and then protest against the Violence done them, and of the Right of Nations violated in their Persons; they were penned up in a House, surrounded with strong Guards.  
Notwithstanding all this, the Conclave had not ended yet a while, 'cause the young and old Cardinals persisted in an equal Obstinacy, without an odd Adventure, which made them jump in an Accord. Cardinal de Medici being extraordinarily agitated with the number of Visits he made each Night, to all the Cardinals of his Faction, his Impost hume opened, and the purulent matter issuing thence, exhalled such a stink, as infested all the Cells, separated only by light Board's. The old Cardinals, whose Temperament being less capable of resisting the Malign impressions of so Corrupted an Air, consulted the Physicians of the Conclave, about the Course they were to take; and the Physicians seeing the Cardinal de Medici, and judging of his Constitution, rather by the evil Humours that issued from his Body, than of the vigour of Nature in sending them forth, answered, after they had been bribed by Bibiana's Promises, that the Cardinal de Medici had not a Month longer to live. This Doom made him Pope, in that the Old-Cardinals, thinking themselves much Cunninger, than the Young, were willing to indulge them a satisfaction, which they presumed would not be of long continuance. They went and told them, that they yielded at length to their Obstinacy, on condition the like Compliance should be returned them some other time. Thus the Cardinal de Medici was chosen Pope, upon a false insinuation, having not yet completed his thirty sixth year; and as Joy is the most Sovereign of Remedies, he quickly after recovered so perfect a Health, that the Old Cardinals had occasion to repent for having been too Credulous. The new Pope took care to send a Courier to Pisa, with Orders for the seven Cardinals Release, being there, under a Complimental Confinement; but without restoring their Money, or Equipage. Insomuch that those Eminencies being informed of the upshot of the Conclave, and having not wherewith to return into France, were too happy in quitting their Purple, trudging to Rome in quality of Supplicants, and laying themselves at the Pope's Feet, who absolved them, and reinstated them in the Sacred College.  
Nevertheless, this was not it that caused him to assume the Name of Leo; and Historian do not guests better, when they make him choose this Title, our of Emulation to his two Predecessors, the one of whom was called Alexander, and the other Julius. The truth is, that the Cardinal de Medici, who gave a little too much way to Predictions, than remembered a Dream his Mother had, while of him with Child: She imagined herself delivered upon the great Altar of the Church de la Reparata, of a Lion, beyond Comparison, bigger and finer than those the Suldan of Egypt had sent to her Husband, but so gentle, that he did not roar, and so tame, he suffered himself to be Caressed like any little Dog.  
The Treasures Julius had heaped up, in ●he Castle of San Angelo, absolutely to purge Italy of Strangers, by Chasing the Spaniards way from Naples, served Leo to pay the debts he Contracted, when no more than Cardinal, and to show his Magnificence, in ●n expense of an hundred thousand Crowns, ●hich the day of his Coronation cost him. Triumphal Arches were there, at the end of ●●ch Street. All the Officers of the Court of ●●●e, appeared there in stately Garbs; and ●●e first time was it they strove with Emula●●t, who should have the most splendid Equipage. The Dukes of Ferrara and Vrbino ●●ficiated then, their Charges of Perfect of ●●●●e, and General of the Troops of the ●urch, and the People then received grea●●● Largesses than they expected. It was just the end of the year, that the Battle of Ravenna had been fought, and that day seems to have been chosen, for the better noting the inconstancy of Humane things. The Pope was mounted upon the same Horse he had had on the day of Battle; and the Duke of Ferrara had taken care to redeem him from a Cavalier, that rid in his own Troop, to whom he fell for his Lot of the Plunder; he was never since made use of, and was carefully fed and looked to. The main of the Ceremony consisted in the three different Personages, which Giulio de Medici represented that day. For in the beginning of this Solemnity, he was seen as a Knight of Rhodes, carrying the Great Guidon of St. John of Jerusalem. Then the Pope put upon his Head the Cardinal's Cap, fallen vacant by the Exaltation of his Holiness, and purged his Birth of all the Defects where with it was upbraided, by so Authentic an Act, that it was no longer possible to make him pass for a Bastard, without calling in question the infallibility of him who declared him Legitimate. And towards the end of the Cavalcade, the news being come of the Archbishop of Florence being dead, the Pope gau● at the same instant the Archbishopric t● Giulio.  
The late Pope had ordered, at his Dear that, in the first place, the City of Mode should be purchased of the Emperor Maximilian; and his Successor had a colour to show, he had not needlessly drained the Church's Coffer. It was no hard matter to conclude the Bargain for an hundred: thousand Ducats, because that Maximilian was of the temper of other Prodigals, who take up at all Hands, and use no more Precautions in selling, than in giving: But when Colonel Viefrust was required to resign the Place, he Commanding in it a Germane Garrison, he demanded Indempnifyings, which mounted much higher than the Place had cost. The Pope endeavoured, at first, to bring him to Compliance, by the way of Negotiation; but seeing the Colonel abated nothing of his Fierceness, he mated him with a Martial Man, a Person as brave as himself, and incomparably more Cunning. This was Count Guido de Rangoni, who took his measures with the Pope, and had occasion given him of. Offence, that he might pretend Cause to be Malcontent. Then he went directly to Modena, where Viefrust, his Friend, received him, and afforded him the means of defecting his Garrison, and shouldering him out of the Town.  
The Recovery of Modena brought the Pope into Repute, and gave him occasion to think of the settlement of his Brother Giuliano. Charles Duke of Savoy had a Sister to provide for, who began to grow weary of a single Life. She was already above thirty years old, but none had yet Courted her in Marriage; for her Brother was too ill a Husband to give her a Portion suitable to her High Birth. Under these Circumstances the Pope had her sifted, whether she would be his Sister in-Law, and sent her such rich Presents, that they exceeded what she was able to bring into the House of Medici. He offered the Duke of Savoy, at the same time, to take her without Portion, and promised that Duke to render him so powerful in Italy, that the Duke, desiring nothing better, than to be rid of his Sister, without her putting him to Charge, gave his Consent. The Nuptials were extreme magnificent, and the Pope sent as far as Nice, to receive his Sister-in-Law, and kept her the Train of a Queen. A Promotion was there of Cardinals, to honour her entry into Rome; and the Pope, that he might dispose the People to receive her the more cheerfully, diminished the Impost upon Salt.  
The Applauses his Liberality produced excited him to Found a College for the Instruction of Youth, which he meant, at first, to render the famousest in the Universe: For with great Charges, he prevailed with Niphus to come thither to teach Philosophy, Christoforo d' Arezzo for Physic, Butigella for Law, Partasius for Eloquence, and Chalcondilas for the Greek Tongue. His Holiness was so afraid of having Critics find barbarous Expressions in his Briefs, which those of some of his Predecessors were full of, that he chose for his two principal Secretaries, the two Men in the World who wrote best, namely, Bembe, and Sadolet. He augmented the Library of the Vatican, whose Inspection he committed to Beroalde the younger, who understood Books admirably well. He caused the Penulus of Plautus to be represented in two days, the Expense of which was excessive, and the Actors Postures too free, yet gave no Scandal. The Pope had so well divined this to be the way to catch the Romans, and hinder them from inveighing against Abuses, that they erected him Statues for the very things, which had set them a writing Satyrs against the other Popes.  
But the Design Giulio had bequeathed to his Successors, was too Noble to remain imperfect. The French had been no sooner driven out of the Land of Milan, than that they made preparations to visit it again. They laid Siege to Novarra, and that place was then of such Consequence, that by taking it, in it would they have found the Keys of all the other Cities of the Duchy of Milan Massimilian Sforza had raised eight thousand Suizzars to relieve it; but as he wanted Money, his Soldiers threatened to abandon him, afore he had led them into the presence of the Enemies. The Pope, to remedy this mischief, sent him five and twenty thousand Crowns, which enabled him to win the Battle of Novarra, and preserved him his Duchy. Then the Pope changed his Method, in regard of the French; for as his Design was only to hinder them from settling in Italy, he could not endure that the English and Flemings should push them too much on the side of Picardy, though it was he himself that had invited them to the Undertaking. He influenced them to an Accommodation, by such cogent Offices, that the Peace was Concluded between Lewis the 12th, on the one side, and the King of England, and the Archduke, on the other. But his Holiness had since occasion, to repent of his Mediation, for that the French, who could not live at rest, had no sooner secured their Frontiers of Picardy, than that they bent their thoughts to the recovery of Milan. They went too about it with more wariness than they were wont; and either that their Ministers were become more refined, or that they had improved by their Losses; they apprehended, that their Design would ne'er succeed, unless they acted in Concert with the Genoveses. Octavian Fregossa had an Authority among those free People, little inferior to the Supreme. Francis the first, who began to Reign in France, got his Pulse felt by such skilful Emissaries, that he divorced himself from the Union of the other Princes of Italy, tho' he had past his Word to the Pope, not to enter upon any Treaty without his Participation. The Pope believing him sincere, had bottomed upon his Faith the most important of his Intrigues, which Merits being known. Several marks of Folly had 'scap'd from Massimilian Sforza, as gave occasion to believe, that he might be stripped of the Duchy of Milan without scruple, seeing he was no longer in a Condition to defend it against the French, nor so much as to Converse among Men. The Pope then contriving his Brother Giuliano's Fortune, judged there could never be a more favourable Opportunity offered for his aggrandisement. He opened his mind to the Duke of Savoy, whose unquiet humour disapproved of nothing that departed from Ambition. This Duke fully confirmed the Pope in his Resolution, assuring him that the French would probably consent, that Giuliano de Medici should have the Duchy Milan, if they were repelled in the Trial they were going to make for its Recovery.  
Upon this Supposition, the Pope imagined, that the Venetians would suffer him to act against Sforza, nay, and would second him too, in case he would divide, with them, the spoils of this Prince. Then made he the Proposal of it to the Ministers of Spain, who pretended to approve it, tho' they thought it ridiculous, because their present Interest was only to hinder France from reinstating itself in the Duchy of Milan, which they saw plainly the Pope would oppose, with all his Might, as long as he should Cocker in his Mind, the Chimerical aggrandisement of his Brother. Thus the Pope, after having sounded his Confederates, became fully persuaded, that there was nothing more to do to enter Milan, than a well managing Fregossa. He did him all the Favours that the Court of Rome can grant, without its costing him any thing; I mean, that he gave him Benefices for his Brothers, and for his Children. It was thought Fregossa would have yielded to such solid Testimonies of Friendship, if it had come sooner in the Pope's Head to gain him. But he was already too far engaged with the French, and only waited for their coming, to declare himself in their behalf. In the mean while, he used all such Demonstrations, as served to keep the Pope in good Humour, and so craftily deluded him, that the Pope did not think he had a better Friend in all Italy, than Fregossa; witness the Plan which his Holiness Communicated to him, of all the Italians meant to do for the disputing the Passage of the Alps. Giuliano de Medici was Elected General of their Troops, and advanced as far as Florence, the place appointed for the Rendezvous of those of the Church. But as he was there preparing a stately Equipage, and suitable to the Sovereignty he pretended to go take Possession of, as soon as he should have repelled the French, a Malign Fever Checkmated him, and bereft him of Life in six Weeks space. His Death did not I'll the Pope's Ambition, it only changed its Object. Alfonsina, his Sister-in-Law, had already long complained, that he did nought for young Lorenzo de Medici, his Eldest Brother's only Son, and Head of his House. His Holiness had ever excused himself upon the particular Obligations he had to Establish Giuliano before all things; but Giuliano was no more; Lorenzo was already twenty years old, well made of his Person, and showed much Inclination for Arms.  
The Pope Conferred on him Giuliano's Place, in what regarded the Command of the Troops of the League, but he had neither the Experience nor the Virtues necessary for such an Employ. His Genius was too slow, and so little capable of dis-entangling him from Pleasures, when once in them engaged, that he was still in the Arms of the Courtesans of Florence, when Trimulée, who Commanded the Vanguard of the French. Army, having caused a Peasant of Piedmont to show him a Path, by which the light Cavalry might cross the Mountains of Nice, he acquainted lafoy palace with it, who took Prospero Colonna, in Villa Franca, and dispersed all the Forces designed to defend the Inlet of Italy.  
There needed no more to unhinge the Pope, and make him lose Courage. He imagined the French were already in Milan, and dispatched away a Man of Credence, to Negotiate with them. This Agent fell unhappily into the Arms of the Spaniards, who distrusting his Journey, treated him as a Spy, that they might have a Pretence to rifle him. They took from him his Instruction, and unciphered it; they thereby penetrated into the Pope's Designs, and not willing to be the Victims of his Accommodation with France, caused their Army to stop near Trebia, when advancing in long Marches, to join the Forces of the Confederates.  
Lorenzo de Medici, who was at last departed Florence, upon the rumour of Prosporo Colonna's being taken, and had put himself into Plaisanza with very brave Troops, pressed the Spaniards to come and join him, or to appoint him a place in the Duchy of Milan, that might serve him for Rendezvous: But Cardona, who commanded them, made no positive answer, under colour that it would be exposing his Quality of Viceroy of Naples, to be in the same Camp with Lorenzo de Medici, whom he should be obliged to obey, as being General of the League. Thus Cardona not budging, and Lorenzo de Medici not finding himself strong enough to March, without the assistance of the Spaniards, the Suizzars remained alone in the Duchy of Milan.  
Nevertheless they pretended to defend it, and their Courage augmenting proportionably, as their Allies diminished, they with great firmness expected the French, and fought them at Marignan. They lost seventeen thousand Men in this Action, and their heat of Liver being dissipated by this blooding, they abandoned the Milanese with the Field of Battle to the Conquerors, and their Retreat made the Spaniards decamp, in haste, from near Trebia, to return into the Kingdom of Naples. The French would have defeated them with small difficulty, if they had pursued them, but the Pope amused them by this Artifice.  
He dispatched to the Most Christian King, the most cunning of his Emissaries, called Lodovico Canole; and to dispose his Majesty to receive his Agent the better, he wrote to Lorenzo de Medici to retire out of Parma and Plaisanza, and to the Inhabitants of those Cities, to go present their Keys to the Conquerors.  
Canole found the King already weary of the abode of Italy, and proposed to him the Interview of Bologna, as the only means to hasten his return into France. The King accepted it, without making reflection, that his Enemies only sought thereby to gain time. The Pope arrived first at Bologna, to receive there the King, who came thither two days after, accompanied with eight thousand Horse. Chancellor du Prat drew up there the Plan of the Concordate, with Secretary Graffis; and this is the only particularity I relate of this Intrigue, because I have found no other that has escaped the knowledge of the famous Monsieur de Puits; and besides, the Archbishop d'Aix-Genebrard had made a Treatise of it, which passes for Anecdote.  
Then was brought upon the Board a Project of a League between the Holy See and France; but the Pope had his Answer ready. He let the King know, that it became neither the Gravity, nor Decorum of a Sovereign Pontife, to break his Word with the Spaniards, for the sixteen Months that he was bound to remain still united with them, but that this time should be no sooner expired, but that he would do all that his Majesty should desire of him. The King was satisfied with this Excuse, because that being still young, and without Experience, he imagined that he should never be soon enough in France, to receive the Applauses, which the Victory of Marignan, and the reduction of the Duchy of Milan had deserved.  
Thus ended the Interview of Bologna; and a Body may say, that the Pope preserved, by Cunning, his Predecessors Conquest to the Holy See, and the Kingdom of Naples to the Spaniards. His Holiness would needs pass through Florence, in his way to Rome; and as his Countrymen had then improved Architecture, Sculpture, and Painting, to the highest point they could attain, they made him an entrance that will never have the like. Giacomo de Sandro made the Triumphal Arch of St. Peter's Gate, where, all that Fancy could add to History, was so happily employed, that the Pope, who understood Painting admirably well, upon his viewing it, fell into a kind of Ecstasy, from whence they had much a do to rouse him, to get him advance. The Work was so much the more singular, that Baccio de Monte Lupo had had a hand in it, as well as Sandro. But as their manner was quite different, easy was it to distinguish, to their very least strokes, and to render to each the Justice he deserved.  
Giuliano de Tasso had made another Arch before the Church of St. Felice, whose Decoration was no less Charming for its oddness, than for its Beauty. As if this had not been business enough for him, he had undertaken and finished so lively and capricious a Representation of the Adventures of Romulus, that the Pope went thither two or three times to see it. Antony de St. Gal made, upon the place of the Lords, a Octogone Temple, whose Design was new. And the Giant, which Bandivelli put in the Gallery of the Palace, could not be better proportioned, notwithstanding his enormous bigness.  
The Triumphal Arch of Gràmaccis, between the Abbey and Palace of Podesta, expressed the Marriage of the Arts with the Virtues, and that of Rosso a Canto di Bissierre was marvellous for the diversity in its Figures. In a word, André del Sarto disguised the Facciata de Santa Maria del Fiore so, as that she seemed all Marble, by a kind of Mastic applied upon Cloth, which Lorenzo de Medici had invented.  
Alfonsina deg l'Orsini, residing at Florence, took advantage of the good humour, the sight of so many inimitable Objects had created in the Pope, to excite him to the aggrandisement of her Son. She had long already tied the Duchy of Vrbino as a Prey; and she tormented her Brother-in-Law, to give the investitute thereof to young Lorenzo, upon the score that this Duchy was absolutely for his Bienseance, and a Neighbour of the State of Florence. But she had never been able to obtain any thing in Giuliano de Medici's Life-time, because he had ever opposed whoever attempted on that side, whether he had an abhorrence to the Consenting to so visible an Injustice, or that he pretended acknowledgement to a Prince, who had given him a Retreat, during his Exile. But no sooner were his Eyes closed, than that Alfonsina deg l'Orsini redoubled her Instances. The Pope had too much Wit, than to be ignorant of the injury he should do his Reputation, and the Scandal he should give the Christian World, by diversting one of his Vassals without Cause. He resisted some time, but at length two things prevailed with him to give way. The first, His Sister-in-Law's extreme Importunity, who left him not one moment at quiet, till she had got him to fall out with the Duke d'Vrbino. And the second, That the Duke had not been careful to improve his Friendship before he was Pope, nor so much as since. And now follow Circumstances relating to this point, which well merit being known.  
I have already remarked, that he had used his utmost efforts to obstruct the Medici's from being restored in Florence, but this was not his greatest Crime. He had filled others to the Account, namely, that being General of the Church, and by consequence bound to pursue its Interests, he had nevertheless sent into France, the Count Balthasar Castillonne, for the negotiating there an Accommodation apart, in Execution of which, he had hindered the Soldiers of the Confederate Army, from passing upon his Territories, for fear of their being at the Battle of Ravenna, and had denied giving passage to those that had been beaten there: Moreover, at the last irruption of the French into Italy, he had accepted the Lieutenancy of the Troop of the League, under Giuliano de Medici appointed General: Yet when sickness had hindered Giuliano from Command in them, and that young Lorenzo had been put into his room, the Duke d'Vrbino had refused to serve under him, and alleged, for excuse, his not having consented to obey Giuliano, than on the score of Friendship, which gave him reason to believe, that he would have shared the Generalship with him; but that having no peculiar engagement with Lorenzo, and their humours, on the contrary, being incompatible, it was to be feared they would not pass two days together without a Broil and Disturbance.  
This Carriage had extraordinarily mortified the Pope, in that the Duke d'Vrbino, showed a two visible Contempt of his Nephew: Yet he would not have dared to complain, if the Duke had not added Injury to Disdain, by detaining in his state, the brave Companies of Ordonnance, that had been levied, instead of sending them at least to the Rendezvous, since he went not thither himself. This is what he was upbraided with, in the Manifest published against him, when War was declared upon him. It was no difficult matter for Lorenzo de Ceri, who commanded the Army of the Church to despoil him; because that not having at that time any Soldiers to defend his State, and suspecting the principal aim was upon his Person, because his Death would have secured the Duchy of Urbin to the House of Medici; he durst not Coop himself up in any Place, for fear of being immediately there invested, and securing what he had most precious, accepted the azyle offered him by the Duke of Mantova.  
The Pope being flushed with the easiness of this Conquest, undertook another, which cost him as little trouble, tho' it failed little of proving fatal to him. Pandolfo Petrucci, who Commanded at Sienna, had afforded him a Retreat, during his Exile, and his Son the Cardinal had served for an Instrument, to advance him to the Supreme Dignity of the Church, by forming the Faction of the young Cardinals, who obstinately refused having any other Pope than him; yet the Pope chose rather to fall into the blackest ingratitude, than lose the occasion that was offered, of joining the state of Sienna to that of Florence: But he went not about it at first by main force, he contented himself with kindling in Sienna a Sedition, which, at length, constrained Petrucci to departed thence, and put in his room his mortal Enemy, devoted to the House of Medici.  
The Republic of Lucca had not been better treated, had not the Emperor, Maximilian the First, been in Italy with an Army, wherein were reckoned above sixty thousand Soldiers, with design to chase the French out of the Duchy of Milan, stopped the Pope's Progresses. His Holinesses Troops were very brave and sprightly, he had promised them to the Most Christian King, who had demanded them with so much the more earnestness, in that he could not so suddenly send into the Duchy of Milan, Forces sufficient to dispute the entrance of it with the Germans. But the Pope judged the time of declaring himself not to be yet come; he reinforced his Troops, and caused them to march into Lombardy, under Bibiana's Conduct, who then possessed all the Confidence of his Master. The secret instruction that was given him, boar, that he should rest satisfied, at the first, with being a Spectator of the Tragedy, then going to be acted: but that upon the unravelling of the piece, he should not too long defer throwing himself into the Party that Fortune favoured, that so he might boast of having given the last mortal blow to the Conquered.  
Bibiana was a good Player in all kinds, yet he could not shuffle so cunningly, but that his Game was discovered. The Emperor advanced, without Obstacle, as far as the City of Milan, where the Constable of Bourbon, and the Marshal de Trimulee, were resolved to sustain the Siege with their best Troops. The Germans had laid it, in hopes the Citizens would declare for them, and constrain the French Garrison to Capitulate. But Trimulee made the Soldiers live with so much moderation, that they gave not their Hosts any occasion of Discontent. Thus the Siege spinning out into length, the most Christian King's Ministers had opportunity to debauch Staff and Puts, two of the principal Officers of the eighteen thousand Suizzars, that composed the Flower of the Emperor's Infantry. These two Leaders, after having made sure of their Companions, went to Maximilians Tent, and demanded of him the Arrears that were owing to their Nation. Maximilian was so prodigal, that he never had Money in his Coffers; but, in recompense, he was so civil, that his Creditors had much ado to deny him time. His Caresses, however, could not in the least prevail upon the two Suizzars; on the contrary, they put them into a Passion, and made them let fly such words, as cast Maximilian into a pannique Fear. He imagined they had contrived to deliver him up to the French, in the same manner they had formerly sold Lodovico Sforza; and the horror of such a Treatment being stronger than his Reason, he determined of a sudden to fly away towards Trent, and did so accordingly, without being followed by more than his Domestics. His Army, thus wanting a Head, disbanded of itself, and the French being thus delivered, bend their thoughts to take revenge on the Pope, who had failed them in time of need.  
They helped the Venetians to recover the places, which the City of Cambray had taken from them; and the Garrisons which evaluated those places, not knowing what to do, suffered themselves to be persuaded by a French Emissary, who advised them to side with the Duke d'Vrbino. To these were joined disowned Troops, Collected from all Parts; and the Duke d'Vrbino placing himself at their Head, lead them, with an incredible Expedition, before his Capital City. Giulio Vitelli Commanded therein a Garrison of three thousand Soldiers, for Lorenzo de Medici; but the Women and their Children had no sooner heard of the Duke's being at their Gates, but the Sedition taking fire, became so great in a quarter of an hours space, that Vitelli, in spite of all his endeavours, was forced to Capitulate to go out with the White Staff.  
Lorenzo de Medici received the tidings of this alteration at Rome, whither he had brought back his Uncle's Troops; he caused them to march, with all diligence, towards Vmbria, and met with the Duke of Urbin at the passage of a River. He might have defeated the half of his Men, if he would have been content with a Demi-Victory; but as he had a great advantage o'er Vrbino's Army, in what related to the Number and Discipline of his Soldiers, it made him rather inclined to wait for the occasion of giving him a total defeat, but never after could he meet with such an opportunity, for that the Duke d'Vrbino, who had many of the parts of a great Captain, whatever is said of him by Guiechiardin, stood upon his Defence in the Water, with a Pike in his hand; and holding firm with his choicest Forces, while the rest filled off behind, saved all to him belonging, even to the very Baggage, and would venture nothing more afterwards, and rested satisfied with having recovered his State. Nevertheless there was a Rencounter, wherein Lorenzo de Medici, advancing too far, received so dangerous a Wound in his Head, as compelled him to cause himself to be carried to Rome, that he might be the better looked to.  
His Army had no sooner seen him departed, but that it disbanded of itself; and the Pope foreseeing his Reputation upon the point of being lost, if thus frustrated in his Designs upon Urbin, he used all possible means to accomplish it in the manner projected. He knew the Duke d'Vrbino had not a fund to pay his Troops, and that he was even indebted whole Musters to the Spanish Regiments of Suarez and Maldonet.  
These two Colonels had sufficiently uttered their minds, that they only served for Money, as to be deemed capable of an Infidelity; and several Emissaries had order to feel their Pulses. In a short time they agreed upon the Reward to be given them, for delivering up the Duke d'Vrbino; and for fear of their failing in their word, his Holinesses Emissaries, without their Participation, treated with a Captain of Horse, of the same Nation, Cabille, by name, who promised to assassinate the Duke, at the first Review that should be made. Either th'one or totherother of these two Conspiracies could not not have missed of speeding, if the Duke of Atria, having been made privy, had not revealed them to the Duke d'Vrbino, who showed much Judgement and Courage in so surprising a Conjuncture. He assembled his Army under Colour, of leading it to an Expedition, at that very instant to be executed. Those of the Conspiracy stood in their Ranks, and the Duke having perceived them, made an Eloquent Discourse, with design to reproach them with their perfidiousness. He related all the Circumstances of the Plot, he read Letters written with their own Hands, which Convicted them to all Intents, and demanded with a fierce and resolute tone, that those who had no share in their Crimes, should do him Justice.  
This Harangue produced such a hurly burly in the Soldier's minds that heard it, that the Accomplices might have had time to escape, if they had listed; but as they were resolute Fellows, instead of being seized with Fear, at the knowledge of their Plot's being discovered, they made haste to execute this their enterprise; they fell to uniting their Regiments into a Body, and a surrounding the place where the Duke was mounted, but they found themselves environed with the Cavalry they did not in the least distrust.  
Federigo Bossolo, a Prince of the House of Mantova, who Commanded this Horse, had quitted the Pope's Service, because Lorenzo de Medici had taken from him the General Lieutenancy of his Army, which had been conferred on him by the Pope, He feared falling into his hands, as knowing Lorenzo's humour to be implacable, when it had been once provoked; and this reason engaged him to save the Duke d'Vrbino. In a moment did he rally his Troops, spurred and fired them with Honour, animated them against the Criminals, and persuaded them to stop 'em. And the Spanish Infantry seeing they were not strong enough to defend their Colonels, delivered them up, and the Horse forthwith shot, and put them to the Sword.  
A Month after the Pope ran the same flanger the Duke d'Vrbino had avoided. I have already noted Petrucci to have been expelled Sienna, tho' his Son, the Cardinal had Contributed more than the rest, to his Holinesses Election. The Father supported his Exile with sufficient constancy; but the Son being resolved, at any rate, to be revenged, did, for a long while, carry a Dagger under his Robes, with intent to kill the Pope in full Consistory, whither he came without Guards, as imagining it would be easy for him to escape through the Corsi, before they knew of the perpetration of the Fact. But he since changed his Mind, as to the place; and whether his Heart failed him at the Execution, or that he found more Obstacles in it, than he had imagined, he chose rather to dispatch the Pope, when a Hunting, where he sometimes wandered so far from Company, that he exposed his Person to the possibility of being stabbed. But there needed so many Circumstances to concur at the same time, to produce this opportunity, that it was neglected as soon as the former.  
Cardinal Petrucci had contrived, in the third place, to form a Faction in the Sacred College; and the first he sifted was Cardinal Adrian de Corneto, who fell under the delusion of the most amazing Prediction, that has been heard of, since soothsayers were in the World. This Prelate was born upon the shore of the Tuscan Sea, in the City, whence he borrowed his Name. His Parents were so poor, as constrained 'em to put him out to Service, but he had the good luck of meeting with a Master, that caused him to study, and furnished him with the means to pass through all the Ecclesiastical Dignities, without being otherwise indebted for his Fortune than to the Charity of the Author of his Education, and to his own Merit. Not long afore had he been to revisit the place of his Nativity, where knowing a Magician to be in the Mountains of the Apennine, he had the Curiosity to try, whether there was any certainty in his Predictions. To him went he in a disguised Garb, and consulted him about some Persons of his Acquaintance▪ whose adventures he was as well informed of as his own. The Vizard gave him such Pertinent answers, as produced him the occasion of speaking of himself. He showed him his Horoscope, without telling him whose it was and asked him what would become of the Person born under such a Constellation? If it is a Man, (replied the Magician) he will at least be Cardinal, and if it is a Woman, she will come very near the Throne, if she does not ascend it.  
The Cardinal Corneto desired to know no more upon his own Article, and slily turning his Discourse, engaged the Magician to speak of the Pope. The Magician did assure he would die young, and of an unexpected Death. Then the Cardinal was tempted to inquire after the Fate of his Successor: And the Devil only waiting for this, to punish him for his Curiosity, told him, through the Wizzard's Mouth, That the Conclave that should be held after Pope Leo the 10th's Death, should be long and factious, but that at last they would Elect a Cardinal, named Adrian; that this Adrian should be of very low Birth, and would gradually mount to all the Dignities of the Church, without any Recommendation; and through his own sufficiency; that he would be sixty years of Age at the Moment of his Exaltation, and not provided with any Benefice.  
It must needs be owned, that the Devil was never more ingenuous to deceive, than in this occasion. All these Circumstances suited admirably well with Cardinal Corneto, and with him only in the Sacred College. He was of a much lower Birth than all the other Cardinals; he had mounted through all the Degrees inferior to that Dignity; he had been Chaplain, Canon, Dean and Bishop, without ever having had two Benefices at a time; he passed, without Contradiction, for the Learnedest Member of the Consistory▪ he had never made his Court to any Man for Preferment, no, not so much as to his first Patron: Fortune went to seek him in his Chamber, and at his very Books. Those who had done him good, had had regard only to his Merit; for as to outward advantages, he was not possessed of any. In a word, his Name was Adrian; and this last Circumstance of the soothsayers Prediction, seemed to point him out, as well as that of his Age, seeing he wanted but three Months, of having accomplished his sixty'th year.  
He took leave of the Magician, more satisfied than he went thither, but was much more pleased when, after his return to Rome. Cardinal Petrucci solicited him to enter into the Conspiracy. He imagined that by this means it was, that Destiny began to labour for his Exaltation, and believed it so much the more strongly, as that the time drew near, that had been foretell him, and that he had the hint of the Pope's being to be dispatched after an unexpected manner. However as Cardinal Corneto was considerate and wary in all his Actions, he would enter into no positive Engagement, nor give any Token that might serve to Convict him upon occasion. He contented himself with assuring Cardinal Petrucci, that he would not reveal his Enterprise to any body, nor would he go about to cross it.  
Cardinal Sauli, who was afterwards wheedled to be an Accomplice, took the like Course, but out of another consideration, he had promised his Suffrage to Bibiand, for Cardinal de Medici, upon the hopes Bibiana had given him of the first vacant Benefice, which he should think worthy of his acceptance; and Bibiana pretended Cardinal de Medici had ratified the Promise, yet it had not any effect; and tho' the first Benefice, having been disposed of to Giulio de Medici, Commander of Rhodes, this did not offend Sauli, as not thinking it strange, that the Pope had broke his word with him, in consideration of the only Person of the House of Medici, that was an Ecclesiastic, and designed for the Province of Cardinal Nephew; but when other Rich Archbishoprics sell vacant, and he had demanded them, and yet were refused him, and conferred on others, who had indeed served in the Conclave, but not so usefully as he, he was extremely piqued; and Cardinal Petrucci so improved this Resentment of Saulis, for his being denied, that he agreed to the Revenge that was brooding in his behalf, without his meddling in the matter.  
Cardinal Riario was the third that entered into the Plot, through a Motive of hatred against the House of Medici, which lasted since the danger he had run at Florence, when the Pazzi's Conspiracy broke forth, and through a Sentiment, common enough among th' Italians, that the Pope, how kind soever in his behaviour to him, would never forget his Uncle's Death, nor his Father's Wound, to which Riario had at least served for a Pretext. Moreover he promised himself to be Elected Pope, since, being Dean of the Cardinals, and having more Benefices than any other, to distribute among them, they would give him then Votes; besides, his having brought himself into Credit at Rome, by his vast Expense▪ and by the magnificent Palace he had there caused to be built.  
The last was Cardinal Soderini, who suffered himself to be cajoled with the hopes of reinstating his Brother in the perpetual Dictatorship of Florence, which seemed to him easy, when the Pope was once dead, and that Cardinal Petrucci's Father should have recovered his Authority in Sienna.  
The Conspiracy being thus form, the measures they took to Execute it were as follow. They made sure of a famous Operator of Italy, called Verselli, a Man lucky in Curing Wounds, and handled them so delicately, that he hardly gave any pain, such subtlety had he in his Fingers, and pleasingness in the performance of his Profession. This Fellow was extraordinarily Debauched, and delighted in committing the blackest Actions, but he did them with so many Precautions, that they had never been able to surprise him, and his Reputation was whole as yet. His principal Talon lay for Venerial Distempers, and this it was introduced him into Cardinal Petrucci's Familiarity. He proposed to him poisoning the Pope, by a way that could not be discovered. For the better making it understood, I must repeat that the Pope had had an Imposthume, which burst, but whose Wound was not wholly closed; and there did remain a hole, through which the matter gleeted from time to time, either that the Disease had been too great to be wholly Cured, or that the Physicians had judged, that Nature ought to be suffered to discharge itself that way, which a had made of itself; and indeed the Pope died as soon as it closed. Wherefore he needed a very able Chirurgeon, that should pay him constant attendance; and as the Bands were to be changed as often as he was dressed, nothing was more easy than to poison them, without its being perceived, because the ordure, wherewith they would be covered, would hinder the Venom from being seen.  
Cardinal Petrucci approved the Invention, and set a going his Intrigues, to work the Pope's privy Chirurgeon out of his Place, so to put Vercelli in his room. The thing did not seem difficult; for besides that the Pope's Chirurgeon was none of the ablest; and that they had it from Persons well informed, that his Holiness sometimes complained of the roughness of his Hand, he had the misfortune to displease such of the Servants, as were most in their Patron's favour. And, in effect, Giulio Blanci, the Chamberlain, took upon him to procure him his Consent, at the first solicitation made him, by a Man trusty to Cardinal Petrucci; and the Cardinals who had the most intimacy with the Pope, did assure, that there was nothing more easy, than the bringing it about. The Cardinal Nephew, tho' a Man of great subtlety of Wit, and a pretender to Sagacity, yet was made a Cully; for they induced him to make the proposal of it to his Uncle, without knowing its tendency. But the Pope showed more firmness on that side, than was expected; for he answered, that tho' his Chirurgeon were still more uncapable and unskillful, yet would he keep him, because he could not resolve upon discovering himself before a new Chirurgeon, and concluded with saying, That he had rather endure his own, than change.  
Nevertheless, they did not despair of making His Holiness condescend to it, at the long run; and I do not question, but that he would, at length, have complied with their desires, had they persevered in their Persuasions. But while they were contriving new means to introduce Verselli into the Pope's Family, news came to Rome, that the Duke d'Vrbino, after having quashed the Factions of his Army, Conducted it to Sienna, in order to reinvest Petrucci in that Government, in hopes that this re-instation would help him to chase the House of Medici from Florence.  
The Pope, seeing the Consequences of this March, dreaded losing what he had most dear; and supposing that the Duke d'Vrbino ●ou'd not have framed so hardy a Project, without the participation of Cardinal Petruc●● who had not dared to appear at Rome, and ●●id at a Countryhouse, since the Disgrace befallen his Family. His Holiness had him so narrowly watched, that a Letter was intercepted, which he wrote to Antonio Nini, his Secretary in the Court of Rome. They found it all in cipher; and this Circumstance augmented the Pope's Suspicion and Curiosity; for without this it had been slighted. The Art of Deciphering was not yet in use, and the Pope could only learn from Nini the tenor of the Letter. His Holiness sent for Nini; and he, instead of setting a good Face on't, gave so many tokens of Surprise and Fear, that the Pope pressed him the more; and as he continued obstinate, denying Compliance with his Holiness, he threatened to put him upon the Rack. He appeared then so unhinged, that he gave occasion to execute upon him, what had been only proposed to fright him; the Instruments of Torture were brought, and Nini had not sooner seen them, but that he discovered the place where he had hid the cipher, which Cardinal Petrucci had left with him. Thus other Mysteries came to light than those they hunted after.  
Not that the Conspiracy was, in this Letter, so plainly couched, as to be understood, but so many Particularities were there, which served to hint it, that the Pope was advised nevertheless to put Nini to the Rack, tho' he had delivered the cipher. And indeed they began torment him, but on the first pain he felt, he revealed all he knew; and as his Detention had been so secret, that his very Servants knew not what was become of him, he having been called out in the name of one of his Intimate Friends▪ The Pope did not despair of decoying Cardinal Petrucci and Verselli, the two principal Accomplices, in the Snare prepared for them, tho' absent at that time. And this Contrivance was used to draw them int●●●e Noose. Inquiry was made, in what place Verselli resided at that time, and they were informed, that the Gonfalionere of Florence, called Gori, had sent for him to Cure him of a secret Malady: This Magistrate was devoted to the House of Medici; and the Pope, who trusted in him, sent him word, that he might make use of Verselli; but that he should cause him to be watched with so much diligence, as that he might not escape out of his reach, that so he might be able to restore him in due time, and when he required him at his hands.  
The Commission was difficult to accomplish, because Verselli was to be secured, without his knowing of it himself. But Gori was so dextrous, that he fulfilled his directions, by causing him to come and lodge at his House, and by furnishing him with sufficient Recreations in his own Family, so as not to be obliged to go seek them elsewhere▪ What made the Pope act in this manner was, that he had a mind to attract Cardinal Petrucci to Rome, a thing not to be thought of, if it appeared that he had secured Verselli, by reason that the Cardinal would instantly have harboured a suspicion of the Conspiracy's being discovered. Thus, while Verselli was unwittingly a Prisoner at Florence, the Craftiest Emissary of the Court of Rome was sent to the Cardinal, to prevail with him to come thither. The Pretext was, that the Pope seeing his Nephew wounded, and being not able to hinder his Troops from disbanding, or to debauch those of the Duke d'Vrbino, his Holiness was no longer in a Condition to maintain his Authority in Sienna, and resolved to re-establish Petrucci with Decorum in that Town, before he seemed to do it out of Compulsion. This Fiction was so conformable to the posture of Affairs at that time, that Cardinal Petrucci, with all his shrewdness took it for truth; and the Pope having sent to him thereupon, that he only waited his Return, to contrive with him the manner, by which Old Petrucci was to return into Sienna. He suffered himself to be persuaded to take a Journey to Rome, and to present himself at the Pope's Antichamber, where he was seized and clapped immediately into a Dungeon. A Courier was forthwith dispatched away to Florence, where Verselli was nabbed playing at Dice, and, under a good Guard, brought away to Rome.  
As Cardinal Petrucci's Detention could not be secret, the Pope had given Order to assemble the Consistory, as soon as he had set Foot in the Palace, and all the Cardinals, then at Rome, met accordingly, thinking their Convention was to regulate the affairs of Sienna. But they were very much startled, to see the Pope's severe Countenance, and to hear his Holinesses Speech, which could not be more spirited, and more touching. He exaggerated the Benefits he had heaped upon the Sacred College, for the making them the better conceive the Ingratitude. Then he spoke of a Conspiracy framed against his Life, by some Cardinals, without further explaining his Mind. He concluded with offering to pardon them, if they owned the Crime at that very instant, and asked his Pardon in the presence of their Fraternity; and on the contrary, protesting to abandon them to the utmost rigours of the secular Arm, if they neglected the moment he now granted them of Clemency.  
Cardinals Soderini and Corneto risen up from their Seats, and prostrated themselves at the Pope's Feet, who pardoned them, in consideration of a Fine of ten thousand Crowns each. This slight Contravention to his Word, joined to the signs of Indignation, which appeared in spite of him in his Face, made Cardinal Corneto judge it convenient, to trust it only with reserve. He went his ways home to shift his own eminency into a Disguise, he put on the Garb of a Reaper, and slunk out of Rome thus ridiculously travestyed. He only beat the hoof by Night, till he came into his own Country, where he spent the rest of his days in changing his Forms and lurking Holes, so strongly was he still persuaded, notwithstanding what had happened, that the effect of the Predictions I have mentioned, was inevitable. Yet nothing of what he expected came to pass, tho' the Magician had not told him one syllable of a Lie; for the Pope died young, and of an unforeseen Death. His Successor, called Adrian, was the Son of a Fleming Bear-Brewer, that had raised his Fortune by his Learning, and possessed but one Bishopric, which the Emperor, whose Tutor he had been, made him, as it were by force, accept of. All the Equivocation in the matter, and what deluded Cardinal Corneto, lay in adrians not being yet of the Sacred College, nor was he admitted of it, till the Promotion I am going to relate.  
Cardinal Soderini banished himself to Fundi, where he died of Melancholy; and Cardinal Riario was neither made a Prisoner, nor under the prosecution of the Law, for the same Reason that had engaged him in the Conspiracy: For the Pope being afraid that he should be upbraided, with having revenged the ancient Quarrels of his House, if he put to Death that Old Cardinal, who refused to ask his Pardon, contented himself with exacting from him a hundred thousand Crowns, on Condition he should go abide in the Kingdom of Naples, where he had many Benefices.  
Thus Cordinal Sauli was the only Person taken into Custody, at his going out of the Consistory, and popped into a Dungeon. Thus far the Pope had acted in the Formalities, but so did he not continue; for instead of Commissioning Cardinals, for the Trial of their Brothers, or nominating at least two of them, to assist at drawing up the Malefactor's Processes, till it was time to give the Verdict in the wont manner, the Sacred College was interdicted the cognizance of it, and all the Accomplices were indifferently referred, without distinction of Quality, to the common Judges for Criminal Matters, who in a little time made them undergo a most severe Justice.  
Cardinal Petrucci, after having had his Members dislocated on the Rack, was strangled in the Dungeon, by an Aethiopian, called Orlando; and his Secretary Nini underwent the like Fate. The Operator Verselli was drawn upon a Hurdle, Hanged, his Flesh tort with Pincers, and Quartered. Cardinal Sauli ran a risk of his Life, if he had been less beloved by the Pope's Eldest Sister. This fair Lady, who had an Almighty Credit o'er her Brother's Dispositions, threw herself at his Feet, and would not be got up, till she had obtained Sauli's Pardon.  
What absolutely incensed the Sacred College against the Pope was, That excessive Sums were exacted from the Parties that were Pardoned; for the way to punish Persons in their Purses, having not been as yet practised at the Court of Rome, they imagined that those who were made to redeem their Lives were innocent, and only put into the List of the Conspirators, as being known to be Rich, and that the Pope's Coffers wanted Money to continue the War of Urbin. The Complaints the Cardinals made hereof, exasperated the Pope, and made him declare, he would return no more into the Consistory, since it was only full of his Enemies, till such time as he had introduced such trusty Persons in it, as that his Life might be therein safety: And, indeed, in a few days after he made a Promotion of one and thirty Cardinals. In this number eight there were of high Birth, the principal of whom, was Pompey Colonna, who proved the most dangerous Enemy, the House of Medici has ever had; the rest were divided; for some of 'em were barely indebted, for their Dignity, to their own Merit. Others had the Cap out of Favour, as the Pope's Physician, who proposing his Son the Evening afore the Promotion, and his Holiness excusing it, upon his having already given his Word to thirty Persons; the Physician replied to him, That as matters than stood, it would not be thought the more strange at Rome, that the Promotion was of one and thirty Persons, than if it were just thirty. In short, some there were that dishonoured the Sacred Purple, by having been chosen out of lower Motives.  
In the mean while Cardinal Bibiana, who Commanded what remained of the Ecclesistick Troops, in the Duchy of Urbin, called out for Succours. He had to do with an Enemy, who left him not at quiet; and his Soldiers, spighted at obeying a Man of such low Extraction, as Bibiana, threatened to kill him, when he made them undergo the least hardship. The Pope writ throughout all Europe for a re-inforcement, and at length set his Army again on foot, tho' it did not answer the hopes he had conceived of its Performances; for it was beaten before Pizarro; and the Duke d'Vrbino was upon the point of ruining it to all Intents, when the Pope renewed the design of spiriting o'er his Troops. He employed for this purpose eight hundred thousand Crowns, and the subtle Hugo de Montadez was his Instrument in this Project. This shrewd Spaniard, if ever there was one, who began then only to enter upon the great Employments, through which he pushed on since, by all manner of ways, did so well adjust his Intrigues, that the Duke d'Vrbino came to be abandoned on a sudden, when he least expected it: and all the Favour afforded him by the Deserters, was leave to retire, and take along his Movables and his Library.  
Then the Pope invested anew Lorenzo de Medici with the Duchy of Urbin, and solicited Francis the First, to give him in Marriage the Heiress of the House of Bologna, which was granted him. The Duke of Albania performed the Negotiation, and was promised, in Recompense, to be made General of the first League, that should be framed against the Turks. A stately entrance was made the Princess at Florence, where the Match was Consummated; but she died nine Months after in Childbed, of Katherine of Medici's, who is to be the principal Subject of this Work. The News of her Decease was brought to Rome, in the time a Courier arrived, that with amazement filled the Town. He had been dispatched by the Republic of Venice, and brought news, that Selim had seized on Egypt and Syria.  
This Augmentation of Power disposed the Christian Princes, to form a League with the Pope, against the Infidels. The Plan that was drawn of it, could neither be more Regular, nor more Magnificent. The Emperor living then in a profound Peace, and, by Consequence, able to bring on foot an infinite number of Soldiers, was to invade Thrace, through Bulgaria, with the Forces of Germany, and the Cavalry of Poland and Hungary. Francis the 1st. promised to embark at Brindi, with the Croisacles of France and Italy, which amounted to above two hundred thousand Men, for the making a Descent into Albania, where the People waited for an occasion to Revolt. The English, Spaniards, and Portugals, had undertaken to fit out two hundred Galleys, which should bear away for Constantinople, where the Pope would go in Person with a hundred other Galleys, of which he would be at half-charge with the State of Venice. But a Medicine unseasonably taken, dissipated this vast Project. The Emperor Maximilian had got a fancy to take a Purge, at his return from Wild-Boar Hunting, and this cost him his Life; or that his Humours were too much stirred and fermented, or that he had done too much Exercise the day afore. Two Illustrious Rivals put in to succeed him, namely, Charles his Grandson, and Francis the First. But they went to work in two different manners. Charles backed his Pretensions with a good Army, which appeared in the Low Countries; and Francis rested satisfied with buying with ready Money, the Suffrages of the Electors.  
The Pope sent Roberto Orsini to the Diet, to prevent the Election of either of these Candidates; and Orsini, the most dexterous Negotiator of his time, did not remain long at Francfort, without penetrating, by his wonderful acuteness, into the secret of the Affair. He wrote to his Holiness in a Dispatch, that cannot be sufficiently Commended, that the Germans paulmed upon Francis the First, by taking the Gold and Silver of France, and that not one Elector was there, but would refuse him his Vote, when the time came to give it; that indeed less Repugnance did they harbour in their Minds for Prince Charles, but that neither would it go on his ●ide, provided there were upon the Rank, a Germane Prince capable of expending at a Rate fitting to uphold the Majesty of the Empire. Upon this Foundation the Pope endeavoured to undeceive Francis the First, and banish out of his mind his Pretention to the Empire, by showing him the impossibility of his attaining it. He discovered to him the Elector's Intentions, and added that he had nothing more to do, than traverse, by all manner of means, the Election of Charles, because that Italy and France might well harbour all manner of Apprehensions from a Prince, who could employ all the Iron in Germany, with the Gold the Indies began to and him in abundance. His Holiness farther observed, that the surest means to hinder him, was to Cabal for the Marquis of Brandenbourg, who had already his own Suffrage in Quality of Elector, and held himself assured of that of his Brother, the Archbishop of Mentz, that the five other Electors would declare themselves infallibly for him, as soon as they should see him backed by France, and the Holy See; but that without these two Protections they would lift up Charles to the Empire.  
The Most Christian King did not receive his Office with the same sincerity it was paid, so difficult a thing is it, for a Man to be persuaded by the same Persons, by whom he thinks he has already been deceived. His Majesty fancied it to be an Artifice used to make him renounce his own Glory. His answer spoke him a Prince, that thought himself Cocksure of attaining his Aims; and the Pope seeing his obstinacy, did no longer doubt, but that Charles would be chosen, and unwilling by Consequence, unseasonably to incense him any longer by Fruitlessly cross-biting his Election, he wrote to Roberto Orsini, to promote and favour his Pretences, which he did with so good a Grace, that Charles was obliged to his Holiness for his Offices, or at least he so himself expressed.  
In the height of this Intrigue, the Popreceived the most sensible Affliction he was capable of, by losing young Lorenzo de Medici, his Nephew, who died of an Intemperance. He left but one Legitimate Daughter, and a Bastard Son. Thus there only remained of the Masculine Line of Cosmo the old, the Pope, and Cardinal de Medici. The Cardinal de Medici was not in a Capacity to raise up his House again; for besides his being a Priest, his Birth lay exposed to so much Cavil, that Ecclesiastical Dignities were a much fit Province for his Circumstances they being a Sphere which none gainsaid him, than for him to Usurp a Station in the World, wherein the Pope's Legitimation was not sufficient to maintain him.  
Thus the Pope's Ambition having not a Domestic object more to promote, was thenceforward altogether busied in signalizing his Pontificate, by acts transcending, or it least equalling that of Giulio the second▪ his Predecessor. He sent the Cardinal de Medici to Florence, there to supply Lorence's Room, commanded him to govern it with as much gentleness, as that young Man had affected harshness. And indeed, Lorence had been dazzled with his Uricle's Grandeur. And his Flatterers had made a shift to Corrupt him to all Intents. He imagined himself the greatest Captain of his time, for that he had a Body proper to support all the fatigues of War; and in this Conceit, instead of flattering the Florentines in their Commerce, he only talked of Military Functions, and had nought imported from Foreign Countries, save Arms and Horses. The Conquest of Urbin had inspired him with the ●●sign of re-establishing the ancient King 〈◊〉 of Hetraria in the same state, as at the beginning of the Roman Commonwealth; 〈◊〉 as the Republics of Sienna and Lucca ●●●le a part of that Kingdom, Lorenzo was going to despoil them of the little Liberty they had left. He had already taken the Draught of a Fortress at Saumimato of Florence, and that once built, he would have demanded of the Emperor, to Erect Tuscany into a Kingdom, and if he had been refused, be would have made his Addresses to his Uncle.  
The Florentines being no strangers to this Project, might well fear its being prosecuted, by the Cardinal de Medici; and Despair was but too capable of hurrying them to the utmost Extremities against his Person, if he had not at first expressed his coming, to be only to repair the Failures of their late Ruler, and reinstate the People in perfect Freedom. He did it not however; for he remitted nor the choice of Magistrates, but bating that point, he suffered them to enjoy all the other Privileges, serving to so●●● and flatter them in the Opinion the Medici's were glad they should entertain of their pretended Franchise. The Pope was, in 〈◊〉 mean time, industrious to improve the P●●lity of Rome, and made Noble Regulation● for the removing and rooting out the See●● of Feuds and Quarrels, transmitted from ●●thers to Children. For since the Factions 〈◊〉 the Guelphs and Gibellines, a Man that 〈◊〉 been another's Heir, was bound to reve●●● him on all his Enemies, and if he declined 〈◊〉 doing, out of Pusillanimity, or a Princip●● of Religion, slink and retire he must out of the World, and pass all his Life in Infamy, without daring to appear in Public. Then his Holiness sertled a Colony in Rome, in the place where the Field of Mars had been, and Peopled it with poor Lombard's, whom the Wars of Milan had compelled to change their Country.  
He easily pardoned all sorts of Crimes, provided they did not disturb the Public Quiet; and the unfortunate Giovanni Paulo Biglioni could not obtain any Favour for some Exactions he had Committed at Perouza, tho' all the Court of Rome interceded in his be half, and that the House of Medici was principally indebted to him for its Restauration in Florence. The Pope sent for him under so specious a Pretence, that he suffered himself to be noosed, however Crafty in other matters, The Orsini, who lost in him their best Refuge, he having never failed ●●ing to their Succours, with two or three thousand Soldiers, upon the first Summons, ●●●ain set a going all manner of Engines for 〈◊〉 safety. Nevertheless was he beheaded, 〈◊〉 yet only impeached of the least of the ●●imes he had Committed: For this execrate Wretch kept his own Daughter in the ●●ce of the whole World, and had neither ●●gard to Religion, or to Public Faith, in a●y other Rencounter.  
The Punishment of Sebastian de Trevese, had more affecting Circumstances. This Man, the most famous Lawyer of his time, having been ●ercht from Padova to Rome, to teach the Law. He acquitted himself admirably well of his Profession, and had not yet been rebuked by Justice, when he came to be Convicted of having been Concerned in the Falsification of a Public Act. However, the pope would have him to be proceeded against, with all the Severity of the Laws, and burned he was alive in the Field of Flora On the contrary secret Crimes, and those that did not directly clash the Authority of the Holy See, or the frame of Government then in vogue; were neither called to account nor punished. In their regard did his Holiness affect to pass for Debonnairei.  
His innate Magnificence ●endred his Pope doth so much the more famous, in that Alexander and Giulio his Predecessors had only 〈◊〉 Liberal to Soldiers. People were over joyed to see them succeeded by a Man 〈◊〉 hardly stinted or deni●'d the least 〈◊〉 their Desires, and he excused himself with such a Gracefulness, when under the constraint of a Refusal, that not a● Mortal w●●● discontented from him. All sorts of Person 〈◊〉 see him during the Repast; and if 〈◊〉 observed 'em to be in necessity, he delights in making them draw near, and distributing among them a Purse of Duccates, which he took care to fill every morning, and never passed a day without emptying it. As he loved Luxury and Pleasure, People were not wanting to propose to him, all they judged capable of satisfying those two Inclinations. At this his best Friends connived, instead of reproving it, and became themselves the Ministers of his Wantonnesses and Riots, as being assured thereby to keep their Tenors in his Favour. Besides, most of the Cardinals lived in such Excesses, as were little different from those of the Pope.  
Thus the Sacred College did much degenerate from what it was wont to be; for heretofore none were admitted into it, save Persons of Ability and Merit; and these Persons having no other Fund to subsist on, than a mean Pension given them by the Popes, were remote from Luxury, as much our of necessity, as inclination. But the Mode being introduced, under the four foregoing Popes, to present the Cap to younger Sons of Sovereign Houses under Colour that those young Princes did it honour, in ●earing it, and those fame Persons, being ●esides possessed of the best Benefices, that ●ll vacant in States, that so they might not 〈◊〉 much Complain of being frustrated of succeeding in the Temporalty. The abundance of so many Riches and Conveniencies had augmented the Luxury of their House●, and this Luxury appeared in all its lustre a● Rome, for that their Relations were rather inclined they should there abide, than in their own Country, where their Residence stood not with so much safety, for fear they should be whirled with the Fancy of raising Combustions, as had been experienced in the Cardinal of Ferrara, who, after having been a while peaceable in that City, yet incontinently after the Death of Duke Hercules, his Father, was not contented with Conspiring against his Eldest Brother, but had moreover engaged his two younger in the same Plot, so as Duke Alfonso escaped not otherwise than by Miracle from the Ambuscades of his three Brothers.  
Among the Cardinals of Sovereign Families, were then reckoned those of Naples, of Ferrara, of Mantova, of Massa, and of Bisignan. The number of their Domestics was six times greater, than that of others. They had all Equipages of Hunting, and Stables, which People went to view out of Admiration, the Hunting matches they made with the Pope, brought into the Field such a multitude of Birds, of Dogs, and Huntsmen, that whole Forests and Valleys were sometimes encompassed with Nets, and depopulated of Game.  
Cardinal Bibiana had moreover introduced another Recidation, of no less Expense, namely, the representation of Plays, in a stately Hall of the Vatican, wherein the Decorations were changed each Act. Their whole business was to provoke Mirth and Laughter, and no fault did People find with the Subjects being too Libertine. The greatest Mischief herein consisted, that the Children of the best Families, and the Handsomest, were invited to mount upon the Stage, and serve for Actors.  
The Pope had another Infirmity, whereof I shall allege two Examples, since it is difficult to find, in History, another Person subject to the like. As he was of a Facetious Humour, and loved to let nothing scape, without turning it to his Diversion, as soon as he perceived a Man prepossessed with a good Opinion of himself, he applauded him in all occasions, and made it his business to flatter him, till such time as he caused this Principle of Vanity, to degenerate into Extravagance. That Secretary of his, the ablest man alive for Chancery Expeditions, was called Evangelist Tarasconi: This Person had the weakness to neglect what he knew to Perfection, and pretended to Sciences he did not understand. As he could not be ignorant that the Pope delighted more in Music, than in other Arts, as being therein most skilful and refined, he applied his mind to't, without other design at first, than the being capable to talk regularly of Simphony. But as his Talon lay not this way, he mistook the Bent and Sense of the things showed him by his Masters. The Pope quickly perceived it, and was not wanting to persuade him, that he made an admirable Progress, instead of minding him, that a Man ought never to study in spite of Minerva.  
Tarasconi believed the Pope spoke Truth, and so addicted his Thoughts to Music, that it cracked his Brain. I shall not relate in this place the particulars of his Follies; I will only say, that they never tired the Patience of him that occasioned them; for the Pope suffered him publicly to maintain, that no Man, afore him, understood Music, and let him alter all the Rules of that Art. Nay, his Holiness proceeded still farther; for he made him the Arbiter of all the Symphony of his House, and promised him, on a day of Ceremony, to cause the Musicians Arms to be bound, under Colour, that their Nerves being fast tied, they would touch the Strings with more steddiness and delicacy. At last, the Pope consented to the taking down the Tapestry of the Hall, where he dined, upon a request presented him by Tarasconi, grounded upon this, that the Voices of the Musicians, and the sound of the Instruments coming to strike the Silk and woollen of the Tapestry, lost thereby their Force, and soft'ned by the same Reason that the Canon produced so little effect upon the like Materials, whereas if those Voices, and that sound broke themselves directly upon the Walls and Marble of the Hall, the Reflection would be more entire and neat, and would return more shrill to the Ears, and with a more agreeable sound.  
After Tarasconi, Baraballi de Gayeto served for a May-game to the Court of Rome. A Man, he was of a good Family, and well made of his Person, thought himself the best Italian Poet of his time, tho' a thing impossible to make more wretched Verses than those of his, which nevertheless he rehearsed gracefully enough. As soon as the Pope had heard him in his way, he perceived his Self-conceit, and persuaded him; that never in this World, was there such stately Compositions, as his Verses. Baraballi, at first, fancied his Holinesses Discourse to be the effect of his Goodness; but the Pope strained so long to give immoderate Praises to this poor Poet, every time he came to recite new Pieces to him, that he quite unhinged his Brain. He put it in his Head, that he was another Petrarch, and whirled him with a desire to Triumph, as that Poet had done in Rome. The Pope took upon him to be at all the Charge of the Solemnity, and sent throughout all Europe, to invite the Tribe of Parnassus. All the Ceremonies that are to usher in an Action of this Importance, were seriously observed; and the Pope, to render it the more ridiculous, would needs have Baraballi to be mounted upon an Elephant, a present newly made his Holiness by the King of Portugal. The Day was appointed, and all the Learned Men in Italy were invited to honour, with their Presences, a Ceremony that had not been practised for three hundred years past, under pretence of paying them the Expenses of their Journeys, immediately upon their Arrival, and that they should have a sufficient Allowance for their return home, after having been treated Magnificently, during their stay.  
The News of this being brought to Gaieto, created Fear and Vexation. Baraballi's Relations hastened to Rome, to divert him from a Project, which overwhelmed both them, and their Posterity, with Shame and Scandal; but they could not in the least prevail o'er so prepossessed a Soul, on the contrary, he treated them as Enviers of his Glory, and as Heretics, that had not a due Opinion of the Pope's Justice and Sincerity, since they imagined his Holiness designed to impose upon the World. Thus the day being come ('twas the Feast of San Cosmo, and San Damiano, which the House of Medici owned as their Protector) the Poets, fantastically Garbed, went to take up Baraballi at his own House, and Conducted him to the Feast prepared for him at the Popes.  
The Spectacle afforded so much the more pleasure, in that it was hard to find, throughout all Europe, an Old Man of a better Mien than the Triumpher. He was extraordinarily tall, and proportionably big, had a fresh ruddy Countenance, and a venerable ●eard. He had on the Triumphal Robe, and was arrayed in all the Trappings, and surrounded with all the pomp, wherewith the Ancients had flattered the Vanity of their Heroes. The Pope, who had an admirable lucky knack in all sorts of Ceremonies, peculiarly delighted in having this performed with the utmost exactness. Baraballi recited, with a Tone wherein he was observed to applaud himself the Essay he had Composed, to stand as his Masterpiece. All the other Poets pretended to admire it, and protested, nothing comparable could issue from their Veins. The Judges, upon their avowal, appointed the Triumph, and Baraballi descended into the Court of the Vatican, while the Pope stood at a Window to see him mount the Elephant.  
This Animal was very docible, and showed some sort of Complaisance for his Gold Embroidered Saddle, and Purple House, which he was not wont to wear, he gently suffered Baraballi to get on his back, and himself to be led along towards the Capitol; but when he came to pass o'er the Bridge, he fell into such a Fury, and caused the Triumpher to make so great a Leap, that had not the Rails saved him, the Triumpher had fallen into the River; then scoured the Elephant back, and topsey-turveyed all in his way, from the Bridge to the Vatican, that is to say, the whole Troop of Poets. What rendered the Scene still the more diverting was; that the Elephant returned into the Pope's Court with the same Docility, and without appearing any more moved, than if he had thrown no body down. He was thought to have been first startled into that wildness, by the sight of so many People, or by being surprised with the confused sound of so many Voices and Instruments, echoing on all sides.  
The Passion the Pope showed for good Cheer, made him love the Conversation of four the most famous and agreeable Parasites, at that time in Italy, namely, the youngest of Poggio's Children, Sacramore, the Chevalier Brandini, and Moine Bousoni Mariani. They invented Sauces for a new fort of Kick-shaw, only stuffed with what was most delicate in the Flesh of Pheasants, and cost so dear, that the Pope's Successor, could not forbear having him in Execration, when he examined the Expense of his Table. The Parasites were there received at certain days, and treated in the manner they desired, on Condition they would endure, without taking Pet, all the little Malices, that were put upon them by the Officers in the Kitchen, who made it their whole Contrivance, to impose on their Taste and Gusto, and caused them to eat the Flesh of Crows and Monkeys, under the Cover of some other Meats.  
The Pope was likewise careful to invite the Cardinals on the first day of August, and with them while away the Afternoon, in playing at Cards; but all the Money Gamed for, and all the Win were distributed to the Poor; but he had an aversion for Dice, yet played so perfectly well at Chess, that none ever beat him at it. He abstained from Meat on Wednesdays, and eat only Herbs on Frydays, and never supped on Saturdays. I have but one Circumstance to relate upon the abuse of his Indulgences, that has scaped Padre Paulo, namely, that they showed, in Germany, a Bull, which set a Crown Tax for admittance into Paradise.  
He neglected the Fabric of St. Peter, so finish the Gallery of the Vatican, Painted by Rofaele d'Vrbin, that incomparable Workman, that brought Painting to a point of Perfection, unknown since Apelles. He died when thirty six years old, by the Popes and his own fault. He had a promise to be made Cardinal, and no doubt had been so at the first Promotion. The Pope delighted in Discoursing him, and almost daily surveyed his Work. He saw him once extraordinarily heated, and, feeling his Pulse, found that he had a Fever. He commanded him to get his ways to Bed, and had him blooded by a Chirurgeon; but he knew not that this Painter's Fermentation proceeded from an over abundant dalliance with a Lady. And as Blooding is ever mortal in such like Cases, and that Rafaele did not discover his Infirmity to the Chirurgeon, he fell into a drooping, which couched him in his Grave. He had laid the Design, and himself drawn the first Patterns of the Tapestry, which the Pope caused to be made in Flauders, and those Patterns were so well wrought and accomplished upon Silk and woollen, that the Pope had reason to be therewith satisfied, tho' the suit of Hang cost him seventy thousand Crowns.  
Nevertheless I must note in this place, that Simony was neither so great nor so public under the Popedom of Leo, as it had been under those of Alexander and Julius: For tho' the great Penitentiary was prepossessed with two Maxims, which seemed to Establish the Venality of Benefices, tho' he maintained that the Pope purged all sorts of Simonies, and could not commit any: I have found nevertheless in Authentic Memoirs, that Leo did pretty often take the pains to examine the Expeditions, which this Penitentiary presented him to Sign, and twinged him, sometimes with severe Corrections, yet without threatening to turn him out of his Place, as being in truth the shrewdest Man in Italy for the Canon-Law.  
I have likewise found in the same place, that Giulio Blanci, his Favourite, nicked his time, to make him sign a Request, when his Holiness was so in haste, that he had not the leisure to peruse it. But Blenci being not wont to concern himself in such like matters, the Pope suspected some trick, and leaving what he had to do, read the Request quite o'er; he found he was petitioned to unite two Benefices situated in two Provinces remote from one another; and the Motive of him who solicited the Union, was to raze a Church, that stood too near his Castle, which none would have opposed, if the Priory of that Church, with which his Son was endowed, had been joined to another Priory, which the same Son held in another Province. But the Pope did not trouble himself with enquiring into the whole matter, he only asked Blanci, how much he had been promised to get the passing of that Request, and Blanci, thinking he stood well enough in his Master's mind, to own the truth to him, with impunity, made answer, he should get two hundred Crowns. He had no sooner bolted these words, but the Pope ran to a Trunk, wherein he had Money, took out two hundred Crowns, gave them to Blanci, and tore the Request.  
In this manner did the Pope handle particular Affairs, while Fortune was labouring to embroil him with France. He had not had any tye with the Most Christian King, since young Lorenzo de Medici's Alliance had prospered so ill. On the contrary, he complained loud enough, that, at Paris, the French Ministry had spirited from him Cardinal Bibiana, as to take away all shadow of Doubt, but that he was contriving to be revenged, tho' the manner of that Cardinals dying after his return, at his coming from an entertainment, at which the Pope had presented him a Bit, which he durst not refuse, had not Convinced the most Incredulous. Besides, he could hardly digest that the French Governor of Milan, would neither suffer the Benefices of that Duchy to be enjoyed by others, than those that espoused the Interests of France, nor allow whoever disputed them, to go plead at Rome, whereas, afore the Holy See was in Possession, of nominating with full Right, and of judging Sovereignly the Processes which arose in that matter.  
The Emperor had then, at Rome; an Ambassador, John Manuel by Name who served him with so much the more Zeal, in that he had been more a Favourite of Philip the First, his Father, than any other Spaniard, and had suffered Persecutions from King Ferdinand, after the death of that young Prince. This Minister had all the Qualities requisite for Negotiation, and had insinuated himself into the Pope's Affection, by giving him overtures, which nevertheless ●●d not speed, for securing of Luther at the Diet of Worms. And as he had discovered that his Holiness would not be sorry to enter ●●to a War against France, provided he might 〈◊〉 furnished with a specious Pretext; he proposed to him, in his Master's Name, the Plan of a League, that could not be better contrived; for the Emperor was to be at all the Charges, and run all the risk, without reaping any apparent advantage. He took upon him to raise and maintain the Armies: He left to the Pope the liberty of naming their General; he consented they should receive from his Holiness, the most material Orders, upon what they should undertake, in short exposed himself to the losing the Kingdom of Naples, in case they came by the worst. Nevertheless he renounced the Fruits, which the League might thereby reap, if Fortune favoured his Arms; and making before hand but two Lots of the Spoil and Booty of the French, he gave one of them, namely, the States of Parma and Plasanza, to the Holy See; and th' other, containing the rest of Milan, was to be restored to the Sforza's, without the Emperor's exacting aught else, than a new Oath, from him that should be therewith invested.  
The Design was too well laid, for the Pope to resist the temptation of espousing it. He signed the Articles, that were presented him, without making the least Alteration; and as there's no being without Money, in the beginning of a War, he created four hundred Offices of Knights, which were sold at a thousand Crowns apiece, by assigning them a hundred Crowns Revenue, upon good Funds. He pitched his Eyes upon Prospero Colonna for the Generalship, as supposing the Marquis de Pescairo, Commanding the Spanish Infantry, would cotton well enough with him, after having Married his Niece. But mistaken was he in his Conjecture, and the Army of the League had no sooner begun to act, but that Prospero and Pescairo fell out, and clashed more than if there had been no Alliance between them.  
Their Discord occasioned the raising of the Siege of Parma, and plunged their Troops into an irresolution, which would not have failed of ruining them, if the Pope had not devised an Expedient, that fitted his purpose. Tho' he knew how necessary the Cardinal de Medici's Presence was at Florence, to contain the People in due Bounds: Yet he wrote to him to leave that Place, and go with all expedition to the Army, in quality of Legate, in order to reconcile the two principal Officers, and put them again upon Action: The Cardinal de Medici obeyed, tho' he despaired of accomplishing the Order he received. He ●●nd more Obstacles 〈◊〉 ●●●nount, than he had imagined; but yet 〈◊〉 he more good ●uck than trouble. He made Prospero re●● a kind of Com-promise, which left him hardly more than the bare name of General; and this Pescairo accepted, as finding it for his turn. Then the Cardinal induced them both to drive on the War into the Centre of Milan. This they consented to; and Lautrec having not been able to hinder them the passage of Loglio, as being abandoned by the Suizzers, in default of payment, they were Masters of the Field, and presented themselves before the Gates of the principal Cities, wherein they were received by the remains of the Ghibelline Faction. Those of Milan were likewise opened to them by the Pallivicini's, in revenge for that Lautrec had put two Cavaliers of their Family to Death, without observing all the forms of Law; and the French were driven out of Lombardy the second time, with as much ease as the former.  
The Pope received the news of this success, when a Hunting, and had at the same time a tumultuous Joy, that cast him into a Fever. He was wont to swallow, at his going to Supper, Aloes Pills, which kept his Body open; and Serapita, his Valet de Chambre, whose business it was to present them to him, kept them so negligently in a Box, as rendered it easy to come at them, and take of them who would: Two days afore the Pope fell ill, Lesbi, the Butler, was minded to steal out a Couple, and swallow them, but was found dead the next morning in his Bed, tho' to sleep he went in perfect Health. The Pope took them at his usual hour, and perceiving they caused in him a thirsty alteration, called for Drink of Barnaby Malespina, who served him with so bitter a Wine, that the Pope, who never complained of it at other times, could not refrain from making Faces, while a drinking; and telling Malespina, I fancy thou hast laid a Wager to make me drink Pearl. Malespina made no Answer, and was contented with pouring out what Wine remained in the Bottle, and with fetching another.  
The Pope supped with a good Appetite, and was neither ill that Evening, nor the Night ensuing; but on the morrow after, having read the Dispatch Cardinal de Medici wrote him from Milan, he was seen in too violent Impetuosities of Joy, for People to miss observing, that too much foreign heat was kindled in his Temperament. Yet not much minded at first, because they did not think there could be excess in rejoicing at the Disgrace of the French. But the Headache, which the Pope complained of afterwards, caused some reflection to be made, tho' it startled them not so much, as the shuddering he underwent, when he asked for Drink. The Physicians, who observed this shivering, made no account of it; for besides its being neither great, nor of long continuance, it ended in so fine a breathing Sweat, that they positively declared, it would cost his Holiness but that fit. However they had him carried to Rome, but some Miles distant; and the Malady augmenting still on the way; the first object that offered itself to the Pope, at his entrance into the Vatican, was an ill Omen; 'twas a Sculptor, who came to show him the Design of a Mausoleum, the King of England intended to Erect for his Ancestors, of the House of Lancaster, whose Bones were gathered up throughout all the Countries in Europe, where they died in Exile. As the Pope understood Sculpture admirably well, he was very curious that way, and caused Michael Angelo to work on his own Sculpture, which redoubled his Curiosity for such like works: And indeed he failed not to examine that of England, and speak his Opinion of it. As soon as in Bed, the Fever so diminished, that the Physicians believed him Cured. He spent two hours in receiving the Congratulations of the Cardinals, upon the Prosperity of his Arms, and felt not any pain, during that Interval. But all of a sudden the Fever returned, nay, and at the very first, with that violence, that it got into his Brain. Then did they judge the Distemper to be extreme; all forts of Remedies were used to bring the Patiented back into his right Senses; this they effected, and he recovered his Reason, after six hours' agitation, wherein they had observed all the symptoms of approaching Death. He opened his Eyes, and spoke, but no more than only to recommend his Soul to God, and to affirm he died content, after having recovered Parma and Plaisanza, without shedding of Blood. Immediately he fell again into his Frenzy, and expired at one a Clock at Night, on the third of December, Fifteen hundred twenty one, being not yet full forty seven years old.  
Never was Pope so lamented, by his Servants, bating Malespina, who, at break of day, came to the Palace Gate, with an Equipage of Hunting, and asked to be let out. The Suizzars, on the Guard, being fired with Indignation, to see a Man pursuing his Recreations, in the midst of the public Desolation, stopped him; and those who remembered what the Pope had said of the Glass of Wine he had given him, thought themselves in duty bound to secure his Person, and clap Guards upon him. He was the more narrowly watched, after that the Body being opened, in it were found two infallible marks of Poison; one, that the Heart was marked all o'er with Black and Livid Spots, and th' other, that the Spleen was so straitened and riveled up, that much ado they had to find it. The Cardinal de Medici had an account given him of all these Particularities; and at his Arrival, all the late Pope's Servants threw themselves at his Feet, and Conjured him to put Malespina to the Rack. But he waved doing it, upon his being pressed to enter the Conclave. Yet this was not what hindered him; and those who knew to the very bottom of his Soul, judged he forbore to examine into the Pope's Death, out of a refinement of Prudence, which made him fear finding, among the Culpable, Persons so qualified, as were able to break all the Measures he had taken to mount, in his turn, on the Throne of St. Peter. Thus Malespina was released, without having suffered aught else than Imprisonment. He wandered a long time in Italy, and at length settled himself in the City of Milan, where nine years after Pope Leo's Death, he was Condemned to be Beheaded for an Assassination. He owned nothing, at his Execution, of what related to the poisoning the Pope, and his silence has given Historians occasion to believe, nothing extraordinary to have been in that matter; and that the Wound remaining of the Ulcer, of which I have already spoken, coming to close, and the ill humours, which Nature eased itself of that way from time to time, being barred vent and issue, had thrown themselves upon the noble Parts: They added to back their Sentiments, that the Southwind blowing at that time, had raised from the Marshes, near the place where the Pope Hunted, a Pestilential Exhalation, that had more influence upon his Holiness, than on those of his Retinue, because that being more heated, the Pores of his Body were more open to the Contagious Air. But easy it is to answer to the first of those Arguments, that the Wound had been but too lately closed, to maintain that the ill humours could have had leisure to Corrupt the Heart and the Spleen to that degree they were found to be at the opening of the Body, besides that prodigious Thirst might be attributed to the Pills, which when poisoned is unknown. It is as easy to answer to the second, in saying, that it is to divine and form a Chimerical Exhalation, as to conceive one, of which the Pope's Body only to be susceptible; for besides his being not the most fervent of the Company in the Pursuit, and that commonly he did not overheat himself; his Temperament was the most robust, and capable of resisting the Injuries of the Air, of all those of the Court of Rome: For neither was there a bigger, nor a more vigorous Man in his Court, and his Humours were in so just a proportion, that they could not have been disordered, till after a hundred years' Conflict, if there had not been some Poison in the business.  
Be it as it will, never Pope died of a Distemper, to which he had less Disposition. He was neither lean nor dry, and his Brain was too gross to be offuscated at first, by the bare Vapours of a slight Fever. The much Exercise he used, should exempt him from an unforeseen Oppression. He had nothing weak, besides his Eyes, and indeed they were very large, yet was he able to see to the smallest things, and read a long while, without being incommoded. Moreover he had got a sort of Spectacles, which he ever carried about him, and principally a Hunting; they made him distinguish Birds and Beasts at a much greater distance, than other Persons could do, and afforded him sometimes the pleasure of shooting and killing them, before perceived by others. Their Matter was of Crystal, and their Figure Coneave. I have not met with the Workman's name, nor of him who presented them to the Pope; but certain it is, that his Holiness had nothing so precious, and were not broken in the most violent Exercises.  
He had a nice and pregnant Wit; and notwithstanding he had chosen for his Secretaries, the two most Eloquent Men of that Age; yet was he capable of turning a Letter as well as they, when so minded witness that he wrote to Cardinal de Medici, upon sending him to Milan, in quality of Legate; and the agreeable Billets he directed to his Eldest Sister, Married into the House of Cibo. He likewise composed easy and elegant Latin Verses, but did not so much delight in them, as in th' Italian; and as no man understood better than he, the finest Delicacy of the Tuscan Tongue, so no Man made more Elegant Sonnets, nor Elegies better contrived. He had taken the pains to read all the Celebrated Historians, and tho' he was too quick and hasty to have the patience to make extracts out of them; yet he had them so well imprinted in his mind, that he never failed of Citing their finest Passages, when th' occasion so required. He was so early accustomed to judge of others Works, that his Criticism was commonly infallible; and in the debates which arose among the topping Wits, they appealed sometimes from the Judgement of the Academy to his Holinesses. He officiated the Solemn Feasts with so much Grace and Majesty, that Spectators flocked thither from all Parts of Italy. The Most Christian King. Francis the First, after having seen him say Mass at Bologna, did affirm never to have been better Convinced of the importance of those Ceremonies, for the lifting up the mind to God. As the Virtue he most valued himself upon, was Liberality, he exercised it with an address, wholly peculiar to him. He had studied to the very Gestures, and to the tone of the Voice, which were to be practised in giving, that he might the better win the Heart of him, who received any thing from him; and never was there observed more Joy in a Face, than appeared on his, when it chanced him to be able to prevent the Requests that People had to make him. He affected sadness, when constrained to refuse them; but this sadness was accompanied with so tender an Aer, that People took his denial in no ill part. Ten Persons of Quality were once seen to demand of him the Archbishopric of Ravenna; he had the same Civility for 'em all, discoursed 'em apart, pried, by their Discourse, into the secret of their Interests, and gave the Benefice to him he had a mind to gratify, without discontenting th' other Nine, because he gave or promised them others, that seemed fit for their turns. When he gave, he still made his Excuses, for his not having opportunity of giving more; and the blushing, which never failed mounting into his Face, made it believed he spoke sincerely, and gave such vast I dea● of his Magnificence, that all the Revenues of the Popedom, would not have been capable of supplying them, if he had giv'en all from him expected.  
He said his Father had enjoined him three Rules for his Conduct, at his sending him to Rome. The first, to use as much care to keep himself in his Friends Esteem, as he had taken to acquire their Amity. The second, to repair, by continual Offices, the Decay, which absence made in the strictest Engagements. And the third, to live without Distrust, in what regarded his own Person, but to be ever diffident for the State, of which he made a part. In fine, he had, during his Life, and after his Death, the two kinds of Happinesses, which most signalise the Governments of Sovereigns. I mean that Rome was extraordinarily flourishing, during his Papacy, and so miserable, under the two following, that the Comparison of them could not be made without regretting him, more than ever any Man had been. Nevertheless a small Disaster befell his Body, the night before the Funerals for the Servant, that watched him alone, falling asleep, the Rats attracted, perhaps by the scent of the Perfumes, with which he was embalmed, gnawed his Nose, for which Reason his Face was covered, during the Ceremony of the Obsequies.  
The End of the Sixth Book.   

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF MEDICIS. The Seventh Book.  
AS no man understood better than Leo, to gain the Love of the topping Wits, by doing them good, no man had ever had so great a number of them in his Retinue, and Interests. Pomponius. Latus was the Brat of a Country Lass, whom the Prince of Salerno had abused, under the wheadle of Marriage. He was brought up to War, and 'twas the ruin of the House of San Severino, of which his Father was the Eldest, that made him desist from that Profession. He was of the number of those Learned Men, who changed their Names, upon taking their Degrees in the University of Rome, and was subject to the Persecution that Platina and Callimachus endured on that account, when Paul the 2d, instead of laughing at this Whim, imagined it a Cover to a Conspiracy, brooded against his Life. Afterwards his Auditory was so filled, that a Man was forced to go thither by Midnight to get room. He went from his Lodging before Day, and carried himself his Lantern. A hard matter was it to understand him, when he spoke Familiarly, but he never stuttered in his Explications. He Cooked all his Meat himself, and the most Illustrious of his Scholars sometimes gave him a helping hand, in the Kitchen, for to ease him, when they had a mind to make advantage of the time he would have spent in that Office. He has left a Grammar, and the History of the Emperors, and of the Ruins of Old Rome. He died at seventy years of age, by having drunk Wine with Ice.  
Callimachus, after having been put to the Rack, and tormented more than the other Virtuosi's, because he had assumed a Greek Name, which the Pope did not at all understand, made his escape into Tuscany, his Native Country, from whence Casimir King of Poland, called him to be the Tutor of his Eldest Son, reigning since by the Name of Albert. He was this young Prince's Favourite, but the Counsel he gave him, to rid his hands of the principal Lords of Poland, by placing them at the Head of the Army, when a going to Fight the Moldavians, wrought his Disgrace, and raised him so many Enemies, as put the King under the Constraint of abandoning him. He found however at Vilna, the Capital City of Lithuania, a Friend, who hide him in his House, fed him, without making any body privy, no not so much as his own Wife, assisted him till Death, caused his Body to be dried in an Ov'n, put it into a Cupboard, and kept it till the anger of the Nobility being cooled, he had an honourable Burial made him at Cracow, whither his Bones were transferred. We have nothing left of his, save the Life of Ladislaus, King of Poland, and of Hungary, who died in the Battle of Varnez, but 'tis so fine a History, that whosoever shall take the pains to read it, will judge, without my giving him the hint, that there never was a better since that of Tacitus.  
Geronimo Savonarola, a Religious of St. Dominick, rubbed out in a prodigious Austerity of Life at Florence, and made appear what Eloquence can do, when backed with the repute of Sanctity. He had the gift of Prophecy, and this is, perchance, the reason, that tho' he had a great esteem for Lorenzo de Medici, and for his Children, he would never have any other engagements with them, than those of Study, as considering them already as Persons that were to subject their Country. He governed his Republic for the space of four years, and was the sole Deputy to Negotiate at Pisa with Charles the 8th, whose coming he had long afore prognosticated. He declared publicly, that he would be at Naples, and maintain his footing there, provided he caused his Troops to observe an exact Discipline; but that at all adventures he would tread the Italians under Foot, at his return. It's somewhat a difficult business to say, what occasioned the downfall of this new Prophet. Two things did thereto very much Contribute; one, the Reformation of Manners, which he aimed at, introducing into Florence; and th' other, the Example he gave, for People to declaim Publicly against the Vices of Pope Alexander the 6th. Armed there were against him, the Relations of seven Gentlemen, whom he had caused to be put to Death; for having Conspired against the Government. They set Fire to the Convent Door, hall'd away those who ran in to his Defence, took him and Condemned him to the Flames, which he suffered in reciting and beginning the Psalms of Penitence. The best of his Works are, The Triumph of the Cross, and The Simplicity of a Christian Life.  
Marcileo Ficino was such a little dapper Fellow, that he reached not to the Girdle of a Man of an ordinary Stature, but so well proportioned, so neat, and of so gay an humour, that none were ever weary of his Company. He was so possessed with the care of his Health, that he often shifted his black Cap, nay, six or seven times in an hour. He had caused  and Coverlets to be made him for all the Winds that blowed, and for all the irregularities of the Seasons. The House of Medici procured him a Prebendary, a House in the Town, and another in the Country, and gave him likewise a Pension, for Translating into Latin the Works of Plotinus, of Jamblicus, of Pselle, and of Cinesias. He wrote with all the easiness imaginable. Yet what he did was so finished, that none durst venture to touch again and Polish it. He died almost without pain at seventy years of Age, on the same Day that the Florentines, caused Paulo Vitelli, their General, to be Beheaded, lest he might take revenge for their having unjustly suspected him of Perfidy.  
Galeas Martius served King Mathias of Hungary, at the same time, as Tutor for Sciences, Secretary for Dispatches, a Captain in War, and Champion in Tournaments. He composed two Books, under a malign Constellation; the first, treating of Man, had the misfortune to be so roughly handled by Merula the Critic, that its Author, of his own proper Election, set about suppressing it; and the second, treating of the Virtue of the Pagans, made him incur the Persecution of the Religious, who caused him to be clapped up into Prison, whence he had been doomed to the Flames, if Pope Sixtus the 4th, who had been his Pupil, had not interposed all his Authority, to retrieve him out of their Clutches, and after all, was he forced to undergo a public Penance. He lived near fourscore years, and became so big and bulky, that not a Horse was there could carry him. He died of a Rupture.  
Elisius Calentius was a Poet famous at the Court of Naples, receiving, from King Alfonso, the same Pension that Pontan, Artilius, Gravina, and Senesar, whose business was to judge of pieces presented to his Majesty, or in Verse or Prose. As he had set Tibullus for his Pattern, so was he of as amorous a Complexion as that Roman, and made Elegies infinitely passionate, tho' they were not all of equal force. He translated into Latin Verse, Homer's War of the Rats against the Frogs, and being become old, with a Charge of Children, he repent his having spared nothing, during his Youth, and testified it by this Epitaph. 
Vanum post Cineres de me toto Orbe legatur,  
Scripta quoe sint tumulo Carmina digna meo;  
Ingenium natura dedit, fortuna Poetoe  
Defuit, atque inopem vivere fecit amor.   
Pandolfo Callenucio was a Lawyer by Profession, but so inconstant in his Study, that hardly had he the first Elements of a Science, than that he fell to another. However, being well made and Eloquent, and having besides the Qualities necessary for Negotiation, he was employed in several Embassies. He composed the Apology for Pliny's Natural History; a Treatise of the Viper, and a Dialogue completely Boufon, Waggish, and Badeen, between the Head and the Cap; afterwards he wrote the Lives of the Kings of Naples, in the Tuscan Tongue, upon the request of Duke Hercules of Ferrara, who understood not Latin. He died at Pesaro, where Giovanni Sforza had got him by Cunning, and caused him there to be strangled, in revenge, for having intercepted one of his Letters.  
Jovianus Pontanus concealed under a stern and damping Mien, a Wit infinitely agreeable and nice. A Native was he of Carretto, in Vmbria, where his Family being destroyed by Fire and Sword, he took refuge at Naples. Antonio damn Palermo, Secreatary of State, found him in the Street, and in his Physiognomy observing I know not what extraordinary, took care of his Education. He instructed him so well, that he became the most Celebrated of the Poets, and Orators of his time. He would needs also undertake to write History, but with so little success, that he accused himself, that all his endeavours of that kind, had only discovered his Weakness. He succeeded his Benefactor in his place. He married a Wife, who brought him a vast Fortune, but, towards the end of his Life, he decayed in his Reputation, by means of his Panegyric on Charles the 8th, and his Dialogue, Entitled Charon, the first of those two pieces being so stuffed with flattery, and with Detraction the second. He died when seventy seven years old, after having caused a magnificent Tomb to be Erected for his Bones; but forgot to put into his Will, which Epitaph he designed to be thereon engraved, of the four he had Composed.  
Marcus Antonius Coctius Sabellicus was the Son of a Blacksmith, and fell to keeping School at Tivoli, where he gained sufficient to live on at Rome, for several years together. Pomponius Latus introduced him into the Academy, which filled off his Rust, and made him capable of being called by the Senate of Venice, to write the History of the Republic, and to give Lessons to the young Gentlemen, for an allowance of three hundred Crowns. He acquitted himself better of the second of these Provinces, than of the first; for the flattery is so course and fulsome in his History, that it's perceived by the least refined. But the most fantastic part in his Conduct was, that after having blundered in his particular History, he fancied he should perform better in the General. He began that of the World from Adam, and made those great Volumes of Enneades, which People are far from reading, when once they are informed, that the most curious Matters almost all are passed o'er in silence, and the most common handled with a tiresome Accuracy. When seventy years old, he died of a scandalous Disease, the secret of Curing which being not then known. He left but one Bastard, to whom he would not commit the care of his Burial, he loved rather to contrive it himself, and writ this Epitaph, in which I should find no Fault, had another made it.  
Quem non res hominum, non omnis ceperat oetas  
Scribentem capit haec Coction urna brevis.  
Laurentianus, after having for a long while taught Philosophy and Physic at Pisa, and Florence, fell to Translating Hypocrates, because Theodorus Gaza did not, to his seeming, express, with sufficient force, the Canonical stile of that Author; afterwards he was minded to do the like with Galen; and he wrote with so much assiduity, that it's believed he would have finished it, if he had not been whirled with a Crotchet to buy a House, tho' he had not the third of the Money, requisite to pay the Purchase. The Man who sold it, caused to be inserted in the Contract, that in case Laurentianus did not furnish the whole Sum in six months' space, he might enter upon his House again, without being bound to repay what he had received, and Laurentianus consented thereto, as making account to have, by that time, wherewithal to clear the Bargain. But the measures sailed him he had taken, and the term expired, without his being in a Condition to perform the Clause of the Contract; so that seeing the first Proprietor take Possession of the House again, he laid it so to Heart, that he tumbled himself headlong into the Well.  
Antiochus Tibertus was brought from Cesene, the place of his Birth, into France, by a Soldier, that made him study at Paris. He followed his Genius, which inclined him to the study of Natural Magic tho' this Profession was them so dangerous, that since two hundred years that Piero Daponno died, no Man had dared to be tampering that way. He imagined that it had only been Contemptible, by not having been hitherto plainly and ingenuously laid down and discovered, but that it would be infallibly Courted by all Mankind, when it should be seen decked with the Ornaments of other Sciences. Upon this Principle, he became a shrewd and learned Professor in Polite Learning, in Natural Philosohy, Physic, and the Mathematics, and returning into his own Country, where there needed no more for his living in security, than to seduce some petty Prince; this was the more easy for him to effect, since during his abode in France, he passed for a famous Vizard among the Astrologers of that Kingdom. He gave a reason for most of his Predictions, which other soothsayers, nor the very Oracles themselves, had not yet bethought themselves of doing, and on this score was he consulted by Persons of all Qualities and Conditions, from the Prince to the Cobbler; and at all times was there so great a Concourse of People at his Gate, that very often a body must have waited there several hours, to get to speak to him in one's turn. He wrote very Curious Books of Chiromancy, or Palmistry, Physiognomy, and Pyromancy; and viewing one day Guido de Bogni's Hand, surnamed Guerra, or War, on the account of his Valour, he assured him, that the best of his Friends would cause him to be Assassinated, upon an ill grounded supposition, to which there was so much the less likelihood, that Bogni being the most determinate Soldier of his time, and Courting, hand over head, the most dangerous occasions, was, in all probability, like to perish fight, one time or other. He likewise foretold, by the same way, Pandolfo Malatesta, Sovereign of Remini, the Richest Prince of Italy, in ready Cash, that he would die of Misery, in the Hospital of Bologna. In a word, the fancy took him to Calculate his own Nativity, and he found it his Fate to be Beheaded; and thus all came to pass. Malatesta was under a strict engagement with Bogni, and trusted him with the Command of his Troops. Bentivoglio, his Father-in Law, sent him word, that he had committed the Sheep to the keeping of the Wolf; and that Bogni had treated with the Pope, for the remitting Remini under the Obedience of the Holy See. There needed no more to dispose Malatesta to invite Bogni to a Feast, at which Tibertus had Orders to attend. Bogni was stabbed, while at Dinner, and Tibertus popped into a Dungeon, in the Citadel, his Hands garnished with Iron Ruffs, and his Feet with Fetters, till such time as they should put him upon the Rack, for the making him reveal the Accomplices of the pretended Conspiracy. In the mean while Bogni's Innocence came to light, and Bentivoglio, thinking him still alive, wrote to his Son in-Law, that he had given him a false Intelligence. Malatesta repent his having been so hasty, and was going to Tibertus his Dungeon, to free him thence, when he met with an account, that this Vizard had been caught making his escape. And indeed Tibertus calling to mind his Horoscope, and not knowing his Case to be in good terms, he had so well cajoled the Goaler's Daughter, that she had let him down with a Rope into the Ditch, where the jingling of his Fetters discovered him to the Sentinel: Malatesta coming in just in that nick, fancied him to be Criminal, seeing he had that way attempted to get out of Prison; and without other form of Process, had him Beheaded. In a short time after, the Duke de Valentinois surprised Rimini, and Malatesta, by mere hazard, making his escape, wandered from Town to Town, till being forsaken by his own very Children, upon his having endeavoured to set them at odds; He found no other retreat, than the Hospital of Bologna, wherein he died.  
Filippo Beroalde acquired Fame by a whimsical way; for whereas other Wits endeavoured to imitate the Writers of Augustus his Age; he imagined Acquaint Latin to consist in obsolete Words, and set about bringing them again into vogue and usance. Having all good Books, and his Memory being prodigious, he enterpreted them to admiration, and there being not a person breathing, that made the like, in any wise comparable, Lessons; he had his Auditory, at Bologna, so thronged with all sorts of People, principally Strangers, as barred all access to it. He has left, in this stile, a Commentary upon Apuleius his Golden Ass, containing so much Learning, that it would be the best of all the works of that Nature, without its Author's ●●range Prepossession for some ridiculous Opinion. He died at fifty years old, and repent of his Barbarism, even at the very moment of his Death.  
Filippo Beroalde neither followed the steps nor the Genius of his Uncle before mentioned. He had a nice taste for Acquaint Latin, and set his Mind to Poetry. His Odes are so pure and so well wrought, that the Academy of Rome judged, that no Man, for this thousand years, has come so near Horace, and it was in virtue of this Testimony, which it gave to Beroalde's Merit, that Leo the 10th. for the attracting him to Rome, made him Keeper of the Vatican Library, but he died at twenty eight years old, when on his Journey to take possession of his new Dignity.  
Titus Sforza was a famous Latin Poet of Ferrara; he Composed several Eclogues, and put into Verse the History of the House of Esté. None would have disputed with him, the Crown of Laurel he laid claim to, after Petrarch's Example, if he had not got a Son, that proved a better Poet than himself.  
Hercules Sforza made such fine Verses at sev'nteen years old, as created a Jealousy in his very Father; and as he had no less Qualities for the Court, than for Parnassus, he became the Duke his Master's Favourite, and made Love to that Prince's Sister, while he wrote Verses, worthy of Antiquity, for the Duchess Lacretia Borgia. He was Gallant, and very Ingenuous in Repartees; as he made a Lady sensible, upon her twitting him with his being Lame; for he extemporaneously replied, that Venus, who understood herself as well as she, at least in Love, had nevertheless preferred Vulcan before others. But to his bane, the Beauteous Toreti, the Duke's Mistress, inspired him with Love. They agreed to steal a little Matrimony Clandestinely, for fear their Nuptials might be crossed; and afterwards to proclaim their Marriage, as soon as it should be a time fitting, they supposing the Duke would leave off loving Toreti, when he came to know she had thrown herself into the Arms of another. But they were mistaken, for hardly was the business known, but that Sforza coming to sup at the Palace, was killed without any inquest being since made into th' Assassination.  
Barthelemi Cocles studied only Chiromancy and Metoposcopy, but he became so knowing that no body ever made so many true Predictions. He was more hardy than other Wizzards; for he caused a Book to be Printed, enriched with Figures, wherein he revealed all the secret of his Art, explained all the Lines of the Hand, all the different Features of the Face, and laid open the signification of each thing in particular. The Learned Achillini made a Preface to it, equally admired by the Friends and Enemies of the Art of Fortune-telling, and Cocles confirmed his Positions, by an Experience, which brought him into a general Vogue. Luca Gaurie, so famous in Judicial Astrology, could not make his own Horoscope, for want of knowing the day, and hour, and place of his Birth. He had recourse to Cocles, who, viewing his Hand, foretold him, that he would suddenly undergo a Punishment, without having deserved it, but yet die of it he would not. And indeed Bentivoglio, Lord of Bologna, being informed that Gaurie had foretold that he should be driven out of his Territory, before the years end, caused him to be Kidnapt, and commanded he should have the Strappado given him five times together, which was accordingly executed; but also was he divested, in the time that Gaurie had noted. As to Cocles, he had no less foreseen the day and hour of his own Death. He knew it his Fate to be killed by a blow on his Head, and had Armed himself with an Iron Coif, under his Hat, and with a two-handed Sword, with which he Fenced Competently well. Yet Hermes Bentivoglio, the Great Lord of Bologna's Son, had desired him so earnestly to tell him his Fortune, that he had declared to him he should be banished, and killed in a Battle, which happened afterwards. But then Hermes, the most Brutal Man of his time, would needs be revenged on Cocles, in causing him to be assassinated by Caponi, the most resolute of his Father's Guards. Capani excused doing it a long while, and would never have resolved upon it, had not the Fancy took him one day to consult Cocles, who, not knowing him, told him; Alas my Friend, you'll commit a detestable Murder before it's yet night. Caponi being surpriz●d at so unexpected a Prediction, imagined Cocles imposed on his Credulity, as he had done on that of Hermes, and thereupon took his measures to kill him. He went and disguised himself in the accoutrements of a Porter, for the better performing his Design, and returned in the moment that Cocles, who had been constrained for an indispensable Affair to go abroad, came back, and was just putting the Key into the Lock of his Door, he gave him so great a blow, with an Axe, that the Iron Coif could not hinder Cocles head from being cloven. In his Closet a Book was found, written with his own hand, containing Predictions for those of his Acquaintance, whose Hands and Countenance he had observed, and the Event justified 'em to be all infallible, there not being a Person of that number, but died after him of the Death he had noted.  
Johannes Cotta was Catullus his Countryman, and had almost the same Genius. He gave himself to Barthelemi de Lalviano, and offered to keep him Company, when the French had taken him at the Battle of Laghiara Dadda, and this Office being declined, he went to Rome to hasten his Benefactor's Ransome, and died there of the Plague, at eight and twenty years old. His Epigrams have the turn of those of Martial, and his Orations show he had already read good Books. He had likewise Composed a Chorography in Verse, and Observations upon Pliny, but it's not known what are become of those two Works.  
Peter Crinitus was Politianus his ablest Scholar, and succeeded him in the Chair, and Education of the Youth of Florence.  
THE END.   


The Printed Authors and Manuscripts whence the First Book is taken.  
THE Acts of the Foundation of San Lorenzo's Church at Florence. The Paintings of the Old Palace de Medici. The Second Tome of Giorgio Vasavii. The Eulogy of Cosmo the Old, among the little Eulogies of Paulus Jovius. The Rights of the House of Savoy, to the Kingdom of Cyprus. The Fifth Part of Pogiodes Works. The First Edition of Coleon's Life. Antonius Campanus, in the Life of Braccio. Filippo Strozzi and his children's Manifest against Cosimo de Medici.   

The Printed Authors and Manuscripts whence the Second Book is taken.  
SImoneta's Manuscript, in the French King's Library. Senator Moccenigo's History of Venice. The Memorial of the Seditions that happened at Florence, under the Government of the Republic. The Topographick History of Volterra. Onuphrius, in the Life of Sixtus the 4th. Politianus his Pazzi's Conspiracy, of old Aldus Menuceus his first Edition.   

The Printed Authors and Manuscripts whence the Third Book is taken.  
CArdinal Nardi's Negotiations with Ferrand of Naples, and the Duke of Calalabria his Son. Two Italian Letters of Lorenzo de Medici, one to justify his Voyage to Naples, addressed to the Council of Eight at Florence, and the other written to all the Magistrates of the Republic, to give them an Account of the Treaty he had there concluded. the Neapolitan King's War against the Barons, by an unknown Author in the French King's sixth Library. The History of Venice, by Sabellieus. Platina's Continuator in the Life of Sixtus the 4th. Andréa Doria's Life, by Carolus Sigonius.   

The Printed Authors and Manuscripts whence the Fourth Book is taken.  
THE Tuscan Relation of Aetius Sincerus d'Anazar. The Index of Leonard Aretin's Works, by Mr. de la Marc. The Saint Denis, and the Diogenes Laertius of Amboise de Camaldoli. The Fourth Tome of Pontanus his Works, by Aldus Manuceus. The Decades of Blondus. The History of Filippo Visconti. The Life of Charlemagne, by Achaiolis. The Combat of Philadeste and Timotée in Mirtavis. The Conclave of Sixtus the 4th. The Greek Poems of Lascaris, and the Latin of Majoranus. The Epigrams of Marulus. The Preface to Plato's Works. The Eulogies of Politian. The Corrections and the History of the Visconti's, by Merula. Politian's Epitaph, by Cardinal Bombe. The Life of Savonarola the Jacobin.   

The Printed Authors and Manuscripts whence the Fifth Book is taken.  
THE Discourse of the Medici's Exile, by Cardinal Bibiana. The Conclave of Julius the 2d. The Manifest of Lewis the 12th. against the same Pope. The Acts of the Council held at Pisa, during the Dissensions of Lewis the 12th. and Julius the 2d. Pompeo Colonna's Harangue to the Romans, to persuade them to recover their Liberty, while the Pope was sick. The Relation of the Cardinal Legat's flight, after the Battle of Ravenna, by Barnabé de Malespina. Machiavel's Life. Mario Musuoi's Observations upon that of Castruccio.   

The Printed Authors and Manuscripts whence the Sixth Book is taken.  
LEO the 10th's Conclave. His entry into Florence, by Francisco de Sangallo. A Memorial of the Offices the Republic of Genova has rendered, at sundry times, to France. Géne●rard's, and Mr. du Puits Observations upon the Concordate. A Collation of Guichiardini's Errors, by Giovanni Battista Leoni. Lorenzo de Medici's Negotiation with the Heiress of Bologna, between the Duke d'Albania, and Cardinal Bibiana. That of the Election of Charles the Fifth, by Adolphus Ʋander Marck, Bishop of Liergi. Leo the 10th's Instruction to Roberto Ursini upon the same subject. The Life of the first Duke of Urbino, of the House della Rovere. A Journal containing the Secret and Circumstances of Cardinal Petrucci's Conspiracy. The ten Books of Pope Leo's Epistles.   

The Printed Authors and Manuscripts whence the seventh Book is taken.  
THE Eulogies of Pontanus and of Domitius. The Collection of Anonymous Authors. The Life of Duke Valentinois. Pesaro's Topographick History. Guichiardini's first Book. A Dissertation, by an unknown Hand, upon the Infelicity of Men of Literature. Floridus Sabinus in his Eulogies. The History of Remini. Beroalde Senior's Commentary upon Apuleius his Golden Ass. The Eulogies of the Vatican Library Keepers. Julius the 2d's Manifest against Giovanni Bentivoglio. Cotta's Eulogy, in Julius Caesar Scaliger. Justinian's History of Venice. Mascardi in the Art of History. Antonio Possevino, in the History of the Gonzaga's. Longeuil's Judgement upon Erasmus and Budeus. Paulus Jovius his Dialogue with the Marquis du Guast. The Neapolitan Families d'Ammirato. The Postscripts of Budeus, to divers Manuscripts in the French King's Library.   
FINIS.