Chapter 15 Chapter fifteen

Yet Machiavelli was not only a diligent and self-conscious servant of the republic, but a man filled with lust.When he was studying the letters received from the Consulate, and writing detailed and accurate reports every day; when he was running back and forth between court, market place, and acquaintance's abode; when he was trying to gather every piece of news, every rumour, every gossip, that he might draw a credible conclusion; He always found time to hatch his scheme to seduce Aurelia.But his plan needed money to carry it out, and money was what he lacked.The Florentine government is stingy, and his salary is really appalling.So far he has spent more than half of the travel expenses he had received before leaving Florence.He lived in luxury and always wanted to be comfortable.He had to pay in advance for the couriers who delivered his letters, and he had to pay for various people around the duke who were willing to divulge something for a little money.Fortunately, there are still some merchants from Florence in the city who are willing to lend him money.He also wrote a letter to Piaggio, urging the latter to do something, just or not, to send him as much money as possible.At this moment, a strange thing happened.Giacob Ferinelli, the accountant who had come to see him late at night, the accountant who had disguised himself so that he would not be recognized, suddenly appeared in broad daylight and demanded to see him.His way of doing things in the past was furtive and frightened, but today he is generous and enthusiastic.As soon as he entered the door, he went straight to the subject of his trip.

"I was entrusted by a friend of yours. This gentleman admires your talent very much. He asked me to convey a little something to you. I hope you will accept it." As he spoke, he took out a bag from his pocket and put it on the table.Machiavelli heard the sound of coins. "What's this?" he asked.His lips were tightly shut, and his eyes were stern. "Fifty ducats," Ferinelli replied with a smile. That's a lot of money.At this juncture, nothing could save Machiavelli more than this. "Why did the duke give me fifty ducats?" "I have no reason to suppose that the duke was involved. I have been entrusted with the transfer of the money to you by a person of good will to you. This person wishes not to be identified. You may rest assured, except that No one but this well-meaning man and I will know of this gift."

"It appears that my benefactor and you consider me a fool and a villain. Take your money and return it to the man who gave it to you, and tell him that the envoys of the republic do not take bribes." "But this is not a bribe. It is a natural gift from someone who admires your brilliance and literary achievement." "I do not know where this generous friend learned of my literary achievements," said Machiavelli sharply. "During your mission to France, you wrote many letters to the Consulate, which this well-meaning man had the honor to read. He greatly appreciated your keenness of observation, accuracy of judgment, appropriateness of strategy, and excellence of style."

"It is impossible for the person you are talking about to have access to the archives of the ruling bloc." "I think it is not at all impossible that a member of the ruling corps found your letter very interesting, copied it surreptitiously, and then, by some accident, found it in the hands of the person I am speaking of. The Republic I think you know better than anyone that the salaries of its officers are low." Machiavelli frowned.As he was silent, he wondered which of the clerks had sold the letters to the duke.Their salaries were not very good indeed, and some of them were secret supporters of the Medici.But it’s also possible that what Ferinelli was talking about didn’t really exist.It's all too easy to make up a story like this.Ferinelli went on.

"The duke has no intention of asking you to do anything against your conscience, or to hurt Florence. What he wants is a win-win situation, good for him and good for the republic. The ruling body is very judgmental of you. Believe me, all the duke wishes you to do is to put his proposals to the republic in the proper form, and to appeal to the common-sense judgment of the wise and experienced men of the ruling body." "You needn't say any more," said Machiavelli, with a mocking smile on his thin lips. "The duke's money is of no use to me. I will continue to offer my counsel and advice in the best interest of the republic."

Ferinelli stood up.He picked up the purse and put it back in his arms. "When the deputy of the Duke of Ferreira needed to make his master resolve to send an army to the aid of the Duke, he was not so lofty as to be unwilling to accept the gift of the Duke. If Monsieur de Chaumont hastened the French army The reason for starting this process from Milan is that the duke's generous gifts added to the decree of the French king." "I know this very well." When Machiavelli was alone again, he couldn't help laughing out loud.Of course it never occurred to him to accept the money, but he couldn't help laughing to himself when he thought of how useful it would be to him if he accepted it.While he was laughing, a thought occurred to him, and he laughed again.He was sure that he could borrow from Bartolomeo the money he so desperately needed.Bartolomo wished to have this opportunity to curry favor with him.To seduce a man's wife with the money he offers is priceless farce.There is nothing better than this.What a story it would be if he went back to Florence and told the people!He could almost imagine gathering his friends together in a tavern one evening, and telling them the story with all his might, to the delight of everyone.

"Oh, Niccolò, Niccolò, what a good company you are! Nobody can tell a story like him. Great humor, great wit! Listening to his stories is like watching a play." He had not seen Bartholomew for two days, and was on his way to supper at the palace and to inquire about news, when he suddenly met Bartholomew.After exchanging a few pleasantries, he said: "Would you like to come over to my place tonight, and let's play some music and entertain ourselves." Bartolomeo happily replied that there was nothing more enjoyable than that.Machiavelli took the opportunity to speak.

"It's a small house, with an echoing vaulted roof, but we can put a fire of charcoal to keep us warm, and drink some wine to warm us up, and we should do well." Not long after he finished his meal, a letter arrived from Bartolomeo's servant.Bartolomeo wrote in the letter that the women in his family did not understand why they could not enjoy it, and said that the large room in his house was very suitable for playing and singing, which was colder and smaller than Seraphina's. The drawing-room was much better--there was a fireplace, and they could keep warm by the roaring coals, and his happiness would be perfect if Machiavelli and Piero would have the honor of coming to dine with him.Machiavelli accepted the invitation with great pleasure.

"It's as easy as felling a tree," he thought to himself. Machiavelli shaved himself, had his hair trimmed, and put on his best clothes; a black sleeveless damascus robe, and a well-cut coat with velvet sleeves that Undulate like a wave.Pierrot was also fully dressed for the event, but his pale blue robe stopped at mid-thigh and was tied with a purple sash around his waist.His handsome legs were covered by dark blue leggings, and the sleeves of his coat, which were not as large as Machiavelli's, were also dark blue.A purple hat was stylishly worn over his curly hair.Machiavelli looked at him with satisfaction.

"You should make a good impression on that young maid, Pierrot," he said with a smile. "What's her name? Nina?" "Why do you want me to sleep with her?" Piero asked with a smile. "I want you to be able to make this trip worthwhile. Besides, it may be useful to me as well." "How did you see that?" "Because I want to sleep with her mistress." "you?" There was so much surprise in Pierrot's tone that Machiavelli flushed angrily. "Tell me, why can't I?" Seeing that his master was upset, Piero hesitated.

"You're married and just as old as my uncle." "You sound like a fool. A sensible woman will always prefer a man in his prime to an inexperienced boy." "It never occurred to me that she meant so much to you. Do you love her?" "Love? I love my mother, I respect my wife, and I would love my own children, but I want to sleep with Aurelia. You have a lot to learn, my poor child. Take With the lute, let's go." Although Machiavelli was a little more irritable, he would not be angry for long.He patted Pierrot's smooth cheek. "It's hard for a man to keep a secret so well that the maids don't know it," he laughed. "If you can seal her mouth with a passionate kiss, you will do me a great favor." They just walked across the narrow alley to Bartolomeo's house.After knocking on the door, the servant invited him in.Ms. Caterina wore a black gown, looking graceful and luxurious.Aurelia wore a richly colored dress made of Venetian brocade.The rich color of the dress accentuated her white breasts and her fair hair.Machiavelli was greatly relieved to see that Aurelia was even more beautiful than he had imagined, and he heaved a secret sigh of relief.She was very, very attractive, and it was absurd to marry her to that fat, smug, fifty-year-old man. After the usual pleasantries and compliments, they sat down and waited for dinner to begin.The women were busy when Machiavelli and Pierrot entered. "You see, they are already busy making clothes with the fabric you bought for me in Florence," said Bartolomeo. "Are you satisfied, Madame Aurelia?" asked Machiavelli. "You can't get such good fabrics in Imola," she said. She looked at Machiavelli as she spoke, and her black eyes rested on him for a moment, making Machiavelli's heart skip a beat. "If I could get this woman, I would die willingly," he said to himself.He didn't really want to risk his life, though; he meant that he'd never had a woman so desperate to sleep with. "Nina fought me," Ms. Catalina said. "We measure, cut and sew and my daughter embroiders. I'm too clumsy with my hands for embroidery and Nina isn't much better than me." "Aurelia's embroidery is never the same," said Bartolomeo proudly. "Show Master Niccolo the pattern of the shirt you are embroidering." "Oh, that would make me look ugly," she replied charmingly. "Nonsense. I'll show him." He took a piece of paper with him. "You see, isn't it very clever that she embroidered my initials like this?" "It is a masterpiece of elegance and genius," said Machiavelli, with an air of great enthusiasm, which he pretended to be because he had never really been interested in such things. . "I wish my Marietta had such a lovable gift, and had the hard work to make the most of it." "My woman is hardworking and virtuous." Bartolomeo said happily. Machiavelli could not help thinking to himself that he was not at all interested in Aurelia's industry and virtuousness.He went on to think that husbands are often wrong in summarizing the character of their wives. Dinner was served.Machiavelli tried his best to put himself in the best shape.He knew he was a good storyteller, and his sojourn in France had furnished him with some fascinating tales of the gentlemen and beauties of the king's court.When the unseemly elements in his narration became very obvious, Aurelia showed a faintly puzzled look, Bartolomeo laughed endlessly, and Katerina was also overjoyed. urges Machiavelli to continue.He could not help feeling a little smug at the thought that he had succeeded in showing people that he was a pleasant guest.Everyone enjoyed a sumptuous dinner.When he had eaten his fill, he took Bartolomeu aside, and talked a little smugly about himself, his anecdotes and fortunes.After a good deal of nonsense, Machiavelli suggested that they try their voices.He tuned his lute and tried a cheerful prelude.Then they sang a tune they were all familiar with.Combination singing was a common technique at the time, and Bartolomeo's bass, Machiavelli's light baritone and Pierrot's delightful tenor really complemented each other.Machiavelli then sang a song by Lorenzo de' Medici, and the other two joined in the chorus.As he sang he looked towards Aurelia, hoping she would guess that he was singing for her alone.When their eyes met, she looked down, and he could not help a moment of satisfaction at seeing that she at least understood what he meant.This is just the beginning.The night passed quickly.The ordinary life of the two women was very monotonous, and this meeting was indeed a rare and pleasant time.Aurelia's excitement was palpable in her large, radiant, beautiful eyes.The more Machiavelli looked into her eyes, the more convinced he was that this was an unawakened woman who, once awakened, could have passion.He was about to wake her up.Before the party is over, he still has something to say.He had been waiting for the perfect moment to say these words.He didn't consider himself a vain man, but he couldn't help thinking that his ideas were brilliant.So when the opportunity came, he said: "You once said that you can help me solve some difficulties. I will always remember it and thank you very much. Lord Bartholomew, now I want to speak to you." "I can do many things as an envoy of the Republic," Bartolomeo replied.He drank a lot tonight, if not drunk, then at least slightly tipsy. "But for my good friend Nicolo, I can do anything." "Well, here's the thing: the ruling body is looking for a priest who can preach in the cathedral during Lent next year, and they asked me to look in Imola to see if there is anyone who can take on the task." "Father Timoteo," Lady Caterina blurted out. "Please be quiet, mother-in-law," said Bartolomeo, "this is a matter that should be determined by a man after careful research. It can either bring glory to our city or it is a joke, so it must be taken seriously, Only recommend one person worthy of this honor." But Katerina is not someone who doesn't speak up easily. "Just this year he gave a Lent sermon in our own church. The whole city came to hear him. When he described the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, tears welled up in the eyes of the strongest men , the women passed out, and there was a poor thing, who was about to give birth, and suddenly a pang of labor came, and she was carried out of the church howling." "I don't deny that. I'm a hard-hearted businessman, and I cried like a child. That's true. Father Timoteo has a good eloquence and a deep knowledge of languages." "Who is this Father Timoteo?" asked Machiavelli. "There is something very interesting in what you have just said. The Florentines are very fond of being called to penance at the right season, so that they will not be deceived by their neighbors for the rest of the year. It’s too much of a conscience.” "Father Timoteo is our confessor," said Bartolomeo.In fact, Machiavelli has long been aware of this fact. "Personally, I turn to him for advice in everything. He is not only a man of good morals, but a man of wisdom. Also, a few months ago, I was going to the Near East to buy a batch of seasonings. , he told me he had seen St. Paul apparition to him and told him that the cargo ship would run aground off Crete, so I didn't buy it." "Did the ship really sink afterward?" asked Machiavelli. "No. But three clipper ships arrived in Lisbon loaded with spices. As a result, the price of spices fell through the bottom. If I bought that, I must have lost money. So it's no different from the ship sinking." "The more you describe the priest in this way, the more I want to meet him." "Usually you'll find him in the church in the morning. If you can't find him, you can ask the brother guarding the sacristy to call him." "May I tell him that I was recommended by you?" Machiavelli asked politely. "An envoy from the Republic of Florence does not need the recommendation of a poor businessman in a small city. Besides, our small place really cannot be compared with a splendid city like Florence." "What do you think of Father Timoteo?" Machiavelli continued to ask Aurelia. "It's important to me that I don't just listen to a gentleman of stature and brains like Bartholomew, and a lady of life experience and maturity like Ms Caterina. I must also have the opinion of a man with passion, purity, and the keenness of youth, who is not yet well acquainted with the outer world and its evils. For the abbe I am recommending Not only to be able to call sinners to repentance, but also to highly affirm the words and deeds of those who are virtuous." This passage is very beautiful. "Father Timoteo is infallible in my eyes. I have always been prepared for him to lead me in everything." "In my opinion," Bartolomeo added, "I'd say you have to be ready to be led by him too. Anything he suggests to you, it's in your best interest." All went well, just as Machiavelli had hoped.He went to bed quite pleased with himself!