Chapter 36 end

Four years have passed.During this time many things happened.Pope Alexander VI died.Duke Valentino had prepared for any eventuality that might occur when his father died, but he did not expect that when the moment finally came, he himself would be on the verge of death.He was very ill, so ill that he would have died if it had not been for his usual health.Nevertheless, he worked hard to secure the election of a cardinal whom he had no fear of, Pius III, as pope.But the lords he had defeated and driven out seized the moment and reclaimed their lands, and the duke could do nothing but watch them.Guidobaldo de Montefeltro returned to Urbino, Vitelli recaptured Castello, and Gian Paolo Baglioni took Perugia.Only Romania remained loyal to him.Soon Pius III, the old and sick man, died.Guiliano della Rovelle, a sworn enemy of Borgia, ascended the pope as Julius II.In order to obtain the votes of the cardinals controlled by the Duke, Rovelle promised the Duke that once he became Pope, he would be reappointed as the Commander-in-Chief of the Papal State and confirm his lord status over the areas he occupied.Cesare thought that the promises of others should be more likely to be fulfilled than those made by himself.Here he made a fatal mistake.Julius was a vindictive man, strategic, decisive, and ruthless.Presently he found an excuse to have the duke arrested, and then he compelled him to surrender the Romania which his men still held for him, after this was done.He made the duke flee to Naples again.There he remained for a short time before being arrested again on the orders of Ferdinand, King of Spain, and sent to Spain shortly thereafter.He was first sent to a castle in Murcia, and then, for greater security, he was sent to a castle in Campo, in the middle of old Castile, to be imprisoned.It seemed that Italy had finally rid itself once and for all of the adventurer whose boundless ambitions had troubled Italy.

But months later the whole country was shocked to hear that he had escaped.After a perilous journey disguised as a merchant, he reached Pamplona.Pamplona was the capital of his brother-in-law, the King of Navarre.This news galvanized his followers, and there were scenes of revelry in various cities of Romania.The petty lords of Italy trembled in their respective cities.King Navarre, who was at war with his barons, appointed Cesare to command his army. During these four years, Machiavelli worked hard.He undertook several missions to other countries.He was given the task of raising a militia, the task of keeping Florence from relying entirely on mercenaries for its defense.If there is no special mission, Machiavelli handles the daily affairs of the second room.His digestive system had always been troubled, and the journeys on horseback in extreme heat, cold, wind, frost, snow and snow, the extremely poor accommodation conditions in the inns along the way, and the irregular and poor quality of food made him exhausted.In February, 1507 AD, he finally fell ill.He was bled by the doctor, given an enema, and used his favorite folk remedy, a dose of a pill that he prepared himself. In his eyes, this is a panacea that can cure all diseases.He firmly believes that his pill, not the doctors' treatment, finally cured him.But his illness and the course of his treatment had left him so debilitated that the ruling body decided to put him on leave for a month.He then went to his farm at San Casciano, three miles outside Florence, where he quickly recovered.

The spring of that year came early, and in the countryside, the trees began to grow new leaves, wild flowers bloomed everywhere, the green grass on the field showed a tender green color, and the ears of wheat grew full and plump, all of which were pleasing to the eye.For Machiavelli, the sights of Tuscany bring a kind of friendly joy that appeals to his inner world rather than to his senses.It is a spectacle less sublime than the Alps, less grand than the sea, a special site, respectable, pleasant and elegant, a land for those who love witty, intelligent debate, beautiful women, and good wine and food. people.She doesn't remind you of Dante's sacred music, but of Lorenzo de' Medici's relaxing compositions.

Machiavelli got up at dawn one morning in March; he went to a woodland on his small estate which he was cutting.He walked around there, looked at the work done the day before, chatted with the woodcutters, then walked to a spring, sat down on the edge of the spring, and took a book out of his pocket.It was an Ovid book, and with a smile on his face, he began to read the kind and vivid action in the book.The poet described his love in these lines, and Machiavelli thought of his own love story, so he played with those lines with great interest. "Better to sin and repent," he muttered to himself, "than never to have sinned at all!"

Then he walked down the road to the inn, chatting with passers-by.Because he is a person who likes social interaction, if he doesn't have a good partner to accompany him, he is willing to use a bad partner to deal with it.When his hunger told him it was nearly lunch time, he walked slowly home and sat down with his wife and children to eat the simple lunch provided by the farm.After lunch he went back to the hotel.There were innkeepers, butchers, millers, and blacksmiths.He just sits down and plays poker with them one time, and it's a rowdy and contentious game, and they'll get mad over a penny, yell at each other, and say something nasty at the other side of the table. words, and shake their fists in front of the opponent.Machiavelli yelled and lost his temper just like them.As night fell, he walked back to his house.Marietta, who is pregnant with her third child, was preparing dinner for their two young ones.

"I don't think you're planning to come back," she said. "We're playing cards." "With whom?" "It's the same gang, the miller, the butcher and the batista." "A bunch of scumbags." "They help me keep my tact and sharpness from getting moldy with time. Besides, they're not, after all, much dumber than ministers of state, and, on the whole, no more hooligans than they are." He picked up his eldest son, Bernardo, who was almost four, on his lap and started feeding him. "Don't let your soup get cold," Marietta said.

They dined in the kitchen, with the maid and a hired servant.When he had finished his soup, the maid brought him six larks roasted on a spit.He was astonished and delighted, for supper always consisted of soup and salad. "what is this?" "Giovanni caught these birds, and I think you'll be delighted to have them for dinner." "Is this all for me?" "all." "You're a good woman, Marietta." "I have been married to you for five years, and I still don't know that in order to win your heart, you must grab your stomach." She replied lightly.

"For this sound insight, my dear, you deserve a lark," he replied, picking up one of these little birds between his fingers and, against Marietta's protests, stuffing it into her mouth. "They fly to heaven in ecstasy, with songs of joy in their breasts, but then they are captured by an idle boy, and they are cooked and eaten. So to man, despite his righteousness, Bo Yuntian's ideals, his yearning for the beautiful things that a high degree of reason can bring, and his desire for eternity, in the end he is still controlled by the vicious fate, and he is useless except to feed maggots after death."

"Hurry up and eat the meat while it's still hot, my dear, and you can talk about it after you finish." Machiavelli laughed.He took a skylark off the spit, chewing on the bird with his strong teeth, and looked at Marietta affectionately.She is indeed a good woman.He is very frugal and has a gentle temperament.She was sad every time he went on a long journey, and she was always very happy when he came back.He sometimes wondered if she knew about the things he was doing outside.If she knew, she never gave the slightest hint of knowing, and if so, it was all the more proof that she was a sensible and docile woman.If he didn't find such a wife, he might spend more time looking for a wife, and it was very likely that he would find a woman who was not as good as Marietta in all aspects.He is very satisfied with his wife.

When they had finished supper and the maids were doing the dishes and tidying up, Marietta put the children to bed.Machiavelli went upstairs, took off the soiled overcoat which he had worn all day and was stained with mud, and put on the robes which he thought were solemn and splendid, for at night he was accustomed to read the books he loved. Author's books.He hadn't had time to get dressed when he heard a horse approaching, and after a while a familiar voice asked the maid if he was at home.This is Piaggio.Machiavelli wondered what had brought him from the city at this hour. "Niccolò," Piaggio called from downstairs, "I have news for you."

"Wait a minute, I'll come down as soon as I get dressed." Because it was winter, the days were shorter, the night came earlier, and the temperature was a little low. He put on a black brocade robe over the short-sleeved tunic, and opened the door.Piaggio was standing on the doorstep waiting. "Duke Valentino is dead." "How did you know?" "A messenger is here from Pamplona today. I thought you would like to know about it, so you came on horseback." "Come to my study." So they sat down.Machiavelli sat at his desk, Piaggio in a carved chair.The chair was part of a dowry Marietta brought from her natal family.Piaggio told Machiavelli exactly what he had heard.Cesare Borgia set his headquarters in a village called Ebro, and planned to attack the castle of Count Lerin, the most powerful of those who betrayed him.On the morning of March 12, a skirmish took place between his troops and the count's.The duke was in his house when the alarm sounded, put on his armor, mounted his horse, and charged into the melee.The rebel army began to retreat, and the Duke chased the fleeing enemy army to a deep valley without having time to see if anyone was following him.In that deep valley, he fought desperately alone, surrounded by heavy siege, and lost his mount, and finally died in battle.The king and his men found the duke's body the next day.The duke's body was naked because the enemy had stripped him of his armor and clothes and taken them away.The king took off his cloak and covered the duke's naked body. Machiavelli listened intently, but when Piaggio finished he was silent. "Thank God, he's finally dead," Biagio said after a while. "He lost his city, his money and his army. But all of Italy was still very much afraid of him." "He was a formidable man." "Secret, mysterious. He's cruel, cunning, and reckless in what he does. But he's capable, he's energetic. He's steady, he's self-controlled. He never lets anything interfere with what he's going to do." policy. He likes women, but he only takes pleasure in them and never allows himself to be swayed by them. He builds an army that is loyal to him and trusts in him. He is so strict with himself that he cannot Afraid of cold and hunger, his physical strength kept him from fatigue. In war he was fearless and high-spirited. He ventured with the lowest ranks of warriors. He was skilled in the art of peace, as he The art of war. He employs his ministers according to their character and ability, and takes care to see that they must continue to depend on his favor. He has done a prudent and wise act in consolidating his power. In everything that a man ought to do, if his ways fail to bring him success, it is not through his fault, but because of an extraordinary and very diabolical arrangement of fate. A man of high spirits and high ideas, if he had had the opportunity to start things over again, he would have done the same. His plans were only thwarted by the death of Pope Alexander and his own illness, if he had been healthy If he had been good, he could have overcome all the difficulties." "He committed a lot of evil, and suffered the appropriate punishment from heaven." Machiavelli shrugged his shoulders. "Had he lived, and if fate had favored him as it has always done, he might have driven the barbarians who invaded Italy from this troubled land, and brought her peace and prosperity. By that time , people will forget by what crime he gained power, and he himself will be passed down to posterity as a great man and a good man. Now, who cares that Alexander of Macedon is a cruel and ungrateful man, who Remember when Julius Caesar broke his promise? In this world, all that is needed is to gain power and keep it, and once you do both, your methods and means will be considered noble Yes, and admired and admired by all, if Cesare Borgia is seen as a villain, it is only because he did not succeed. Someday I will write a book about this man and my feelings for him Observation and reflection on what you do." "My dear Niccolo, you are an impractical man. In your opinion, who will read your book? You will not be immortalized for writing such a book." "I don't expect that either," Machiavelli said with a laugh. Piaggio looked suspiciously at the stack of manuscripts on his friend's desk. "What did you put there?" Machiavelli gave a smile designed to reassure the other party. "I don't have much to do here, so it occurred to me that I might write a comedy to pass the time. Would you like me to read a passage to you?" "A comedy?" said Piaggio suspiciously. "I suppose it has political implications." "Not at all, its only purpose is to amuse." "Hey Nicolo, when are you going to get serious? You're going to get criticism that's going to fall on you like a thousand bricks." "I don't understand why people criticize me like that. Apuleius wrote the Golden Ass and Petronius wrote the Satyricon purely for the entertainment of the readers, and no one would think that their works What other purpose is there?" "But those works are classics. So that's a different story." "According to you, some works designed to entertain the public, like a loose woman, will become respectable in time. I always wonder why those literary critics wait until humor can bring Humor is only appreciated long after the fun has completely faded with time. They never find that the effect of humor is tied to real life." "You once said that pornography, not brevity, is the soul of wit. Have you changed your mind now?" "Not at all, but what could be more practical and real than pornography? Believe me, dear Biagio, when people stop thinking this way, they have completely lost interest in reproducing their offspring. This will be the final end of the Creator's most unfortunate experiment." "Read your script, Niccolò. You know I don't like hearing that from you." With a slight smile, Machiavelli picked up the manuscript and began to read. "A street in Florence." Suddenly, as the author was reading his work to a friend for the first time, Machiavelli, as the author, was affected by a characteristic, faint unease that he did not know whether the other party would like his work.He then interrupted himself. "This is just a first draft, and I dare say I'll make a lot of revisions when I go through it again." He flipped through the manuscript, looking unsure.The plot of the script gave him a lot of fun to write, but there were two or three things that went out of his way.The characters he created all entered the role and began to become independent individuals with flesh and blood, distanced from the archetypal characters in their lives.Lucrezia was as shadowy as Aurelia in real life, and he hadn't been able to figure out how to make her more substantial.The necessity of the plot compelled him to make her a virtuous woman who was only induced by her mother and her confessor to do something unto conscience.Pierrot, known in the script as Liguglio, takes on a more heavy-handed role than Machiavelli originally planned.It was he who conceived the idea of ​​deceiving the foolish husband, convincing Lucrezia's mother and the priest, and in the end it was he who conceived the conspiracy and carried it out to a happy ending.He's sharp, creative, witty, unprincipled and likable.Machiavelli found it easy to portray the rogue villain, only to find by the time he finished writing that he had poured as much of himself into the plotting sidekick as his lovesick protagonist. Thinking how special it must be for him to play two parts in one play, he raised his head and asked Biagio: "By the way, have you heard from your nephew Pierrot lately?" "Speaking of which, I really have news about him. I was going to tell you, but because I was so excited about the death of Duke Valentino, I almost forgot to tell you that he is getting married." "Really? Is the woman a good match?" "A good match. He married money. Do you remember Bartolomeo Martelli of Imola? He was a distant relation of mine." Machiavelli nodded. "When the riots broke out in Imola, he thought it would be better to go out and see how things went. You know, he's one of the duke's besties, and he's worried he's going to pay for it. He So he went to Turkey, where he had his own business. Before there was any real turmoil in Imola, the Pope's troops entered the city. Coincidentally, Piero was also in the army. Arrow had a good relationship with some high-ranking officers, and these high-ranking officers could speak before the Pope, so he worked hard to preserve Bartolomeo's family business. But Bartolomeo was exiled, and it was recently reported that, He died in Smyrna, and Pierrot is going to marry his widow." "It's not bad, and it's reasonable," Machiavelli remarked. "They told me she was young and good looking and it was clear she needed a man to protect her. And Pierrot was a man with a head." "There is only one flaw. Bartolomeo has a little boy, about three or four years old. In this way, if Pierrot has children of his own in the future, the hope of these young children inheriting the inheritance is very small. Not too big." "I think you can rest assured that Pierrot will regard this child as his own." Machiavelli said calmly. He picked up the manuscript again.He smiled with some self-satisfaction.He remembered again that he had at least succeeded in dealing with Father Timoteo.He portrayed this character with a particularly vicious style of writing, and he often smirked while writing.On this figure he poured all his hatred and contempt for those monks who exploited the goodness and credulity of ignorant people to enrich themselves by cheating money.This role can determine the success or failure of the play.He started reading from the beginning again. "A street in Florence." He stopped reading aloud and looked up again. "What's the matter?" Biagio asked. "You said that Cesare Borgia was full of crimes and deserved what he deserved. He was indeed destroyed, but not because of his own crimes, but because of objective factors and conditions beyond his control. The important accidental factor, in this world of sin and sorrow, if virtue triumphs over evil, it is not because the virtuous party has a noble character, but they have bigger and better guns. If honesty trumps treachery , it is not because the honest side has an honest character, but they have a stronger and better-led army. If justice defeats evil, it is not that the righteous side is just, but their We have more money. It is good to be on the side of justice, but we should remember that without strength, we will achieve nothing. We are madmen to forget this. We must believe that God loves people of good nature, but there is no The evidence shows that he will save stupid people from the mistakes they made." He sighed and began to read his play for the third time. "A street in Florence."