Chapter 6 Chapter Six

Machiavelli didn't need much sleep.So he woke up at dawn.He called Pierrot over and helped him to dress.His traveling clothes were folded and stowed away in the saddlebags.He put on his usual black suit.He didn't intend to just live in this monastery, because he needed a residence where he could meet with guests secretly when necessary, and in this monastery, his visitors and his every move would be very eye-catching.The courier is already on his way back to Florence.Accompanied by Piero, Machiavelli walked towards the Golden Lion Hotel.Imola is a small, sunny city, and there is no sign that it has just changed hands.As they made their way through the narrow, twisting alleys, they passed many merchants who were busy with their businesses, and these merchants seemed content.You get the impression that the order of life of the common people here is not affected at all.From time to time pedestrians had to make way for a man on horseback, or a team of donkeys laden with firewood.A man was leading a few female donkeys and marching slowly, using a habitual cry to sell donkey milk that is good for pregnant women.A wizened old woman poked her head out of one of the windows and called the donkey milkman to a stop.After a while, the old woman appeared at the door, holding a large cup in her hand.A peddler selling needles and thread brains walked by with a piercing voice.There are several shops on the street where the Golden Lion Hotel is located.There is a customer in the saddle shop, a man in the barbershop having his hair cut, a woman in the shoe shop trying on shoes.All of this reveals a sense of prosperity, not luxurious prosperity, but a comfortable scene of well-off.Also, there are absolutely no beggars on the streets.

They walked into the Golden Lion Hotel.Machiavelli ordered some bread and wine for himself and Pierrot.They dipped the bread in the wine to give it some flavor, and then they ate the bread and drank the rest of the wine.Just filling their stomachs like this, they came to a barber shop.Machiavelli shaved his face.The barber sprayed his short black hair with perfumed, strongly scented water and combed it.Meanwhile Piero stroked his smooth chin thoughtfully. "I think I need a shave too, Monsieur Niccolo," he said. "A few weeks more," Machiavelli replied, with a slight smile.Then he turned to the barber and said, "Put some perfume on his hair and comb it."

They cleaned themselves up neatly.Machiavelli then asked the barber where the apartment of a gentleman named Bartolomeo Martelli whom he wanted to visit was located.The barber told them how to go, but the instructions he gave were so complicated that Machiavelli asked him if he could trouble him to find a guide to take them there.The barber then went to the door of his shop, called a naughty little boy who was playing in the street, and asked him to show Machiavelli and them the way.They crossed a main square flanked on one side by the palace compound occupied by the duke.Because today is the day to go to the market, the square is full of farmers' stalls, they brought all kinds of fruits and vegetables, chicken, meat and cheese.There are also stalls of vendors who sell copper, iron, cloth, old clothes and other items.A large group of people get together, or bargain, or are trading, or just to watch.There was an uproar in the market.It was a happy bustling scene under a blue October sky.When Machiavelli and Piero entered the square, they heard the sound of brass trumpets, and the uproar died down quite a bit.

"Here is the announcer," cried the boy excitedly, and he seized Machiavelli's hand and began to run. "I have not heard his announcement yet." A few people rushed forward and hugged them.Machiavelli looked in the direction in which they were going, and on the other side of the square he saw a gallows with two men hanging from it.But that was not Machiavelli's willing concern, so he withdrew his hand from the leading boy.The boy who led the way completely forgot what he was supposed to do, and ran towards his interest.The announcer began to announce aloud what he was going to say, but he was so far away from Machiavelli that Machiavelli could not hear what he was saying.Impatiently, he turned to a fat woman who was standing and guarding his booth.

"What happened?" he asked her. "What was the announcer talking about?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Just two thieves, hanged. By order of the duke, every half hour until noon today. He told them that they were hanged for stealing from the citizens. These two men were French soldiers, they said." Machiavelli was on the verge of showing shock, but he restrained himself.It was completely out of his expectation, but he had to see it to believe it.He strode forward and squeezed his way through the crowd, pushing and being pushed, but his eyes were fixed on the two corpses on the gallows.The announcer finished his announcement, stepped down from the platform where the gallows was erected, and walked away slowly with no expression on his face.The crowd dispersed a little, and Machiavelli was at last able to draw closer.At last there was no doubt—though their faces were horribly distorted by the noose, these two men were indeed the two Gascon soldiers.They had been brought before the duke the night before, where he had tried him and given his sentence.The older one was the frowning one with a scar on his face that night.The young man was the soldier who once had the frightened wandering eyes.It turns out that this is not just a comedy as he originally imagined.Machiavelli froze there, watching the scene in frustration.At this moment, his little guide patted his arm.

The little boy said ruefully, "I wish I had been here when they hanged these two men. By the time the people hear the news, it will all be over." "It's not for children," Machiavelli replied absent-mindedly.His mind was busy again. "It's not the first time someone has been hanged," said the little boy, grinning. "It's fun to watch them dangle in the air." "Pierrot." "Here I am, my lord." "Come here, child, and take us to Lord Bartolomeo." Machiavelli frowned and pursed his lips so tightly that his upper and lower lips formed a grim straight line when he resumed his journey.He walked silently, trying to figure out what Duke Valentino was thinking.Why did he hang two useful soldiers for such a trivial matter as the theft of a few pieces of silver?In Machiavelli's view, a punishment for the above-mentioned violation would be enough.True, human life was nothing to the duke, but it was incredible to see him so desperately seeking to gain the confidence of the people of Imola that he would not hesitate to offend the commanders of Gascon's troops.Machiavelli was really confused now.He was sure that his presence when the duke tried the case that night was exactly what the duke needed, otherwise the duke could have waited until he had finished his negotiations with the Florentine envoy before starting the theft trial.Was he trying to show the ruling body that he was not under the control of the French, that despite the intrigues of his generals he had no fear of offending them?Or was the whole point of the scene to convey the blatant threat, uttered by the duke himself, that the two soldiers could wait until they got to Florence to sell the stolen goods?But who could guess what was going on in that ruthless and cunning mind?

"This is the house you are looking for, my lord," said the boy suddenly. Machiavelli gave the street boy a coin.So the child hopped and ran away.Piero lifted the brass ring on the door and let it fall.There was no answer inside, and Piero knocked on the door again.Machiavelli noticed that the house was very majestic, and it could be seen at a glance that it was a mansion of a wealthy family.The windows of the living room on the second floor are not pasted with oil paper as expected, but inlaid with glass, which is enough to show that the owner's family is rich.