Chapter 23 Chapter Twenty Two

I have but a little precious time to think about this matter.A few days later, my husband came home.He counted really well.The next morning would be Savonarola's Christmas sermon, and the pious should get up from the bed of their wives, not their lovers, and rush to church. That night he made a point of taking me for a walk down the street so people would notice that I was with him.It's been a dream of mine for a long time: to walk the streets during the magical time from dusk to night, the life of the city illuminated by the evening sun burn.Although the light of the setting sun is beautiful, the streets are somewhat lifeless.Under the loggia in the square of Santa Maria Novella we passed a young man in a stylish cloak and fur cap who seemed to be trying to catch my husband's eye.But Cristoforo just glanced at him, and immediately led me away, leaving him quickly behind.It was dark when we got home and the streets were empty.The curfew, like a newly promulgated decree, is very effective.The great irony is that I was free, but there was nothing left to explore in Florence.

That night, we sat in the cold reception room, built a fire with myrtle wood to keep warm, and talked about some national affairs.Although I felt deeply hurt and wanted to take revenge on him for not fulfilling his responsibilities as a husband, I was too curious, and his affairs also attracted me, so I couldn't keep my indifference towards him.I believe that joy is mutual. "We've got to get there early so we can get a good seat. I'll bet, Alexandra - even though betting is illegal now, the cathedral will be packed tomorrow." "Are we going to visit, or are we being visited?"

"Like most people, I suppose, both. It's a miracle that the Florentines are suddenly so devout." "Even pedophiles?" I said, proud of myself for having the courage to say the word. He smiled and said, "I know you get a rebellious thrill when you say that word out loud. But I suggest you leave it out of your dictionary, walls have ears." "What? Do you think servants will betray their masters now?" "I suppose if slaves could be freed by denouncing their masters, they would. Florence has become an Inquisition now." "Does the new law provide for this?"

"That's not the problem. The punishment for adultery was harsher, especially for sodomites. For the young, it was whipped, fined, or castrated. For the older, more experienced sinners, it was hanged for public display. " "Hanging! Public display! God! Why is there such a big difference?" "Because people think wives, younger men, are less responsible than older ones for the same actions. Just as teenage girls are less guilty than the men who seduce them." That said, my husband's reserved desire for Tommaso was more sinister than his swaggering flirtations.Although I am related to him by blood, the cruel truth is that I am more concerned about the safety of the man who pursued him.

"You have to be careful," I said. "I will, your brother asked about your recent situation." He seemed to see through my mind. "What did you say to him?" "I said he'd better come and ask you himself. But I think he's afraid to see you." Very well, I thought, I hope he trembles in your arms.I found myself petrified by the image in a way I'd never allowed myself to think before.Tommaso in my husband's arms!So my brother is his "wife", but I... then what am I? "The street is deserted, and the house is empty." I finally spoke.

He hesitated.We all know what to expect.Savonarola will rule the night, but his ultimate purpose is to cast all evil into the abyss. "You don't have to see him if you want," he said hastily. "He's my brother, and how odd it would be if he came to our house and I didn't see him." "That's true." He stared at the flames in a daze, his legs outstretched.He is a cultured and educated man, and one little finger of his is more learned than the whole body of my coquettish brother.What kind of desire drives him to do whatever it takes? "Do you have any news for me?" he said after a while.

Oh, I do.That afternoon I felt a sharp pain in my uterus, and the blood from my uterus stained a bandage.But I didn't know how to say it, so I just shook my head, "No, nothing." I close my eyes, and the paintings from the wedding night come back to my mind.When I opened my eyes, he was looking at me with concern, and I'm sure there was some emotion in that pity. "I hear you went to the library while I was away. I hope that pleases you." "Yes," I said, and I felt quite relieved when the topic returned to knowledge. "I found the translation of Plato written by Fechino, and there is an inscription dedicated to you."

"Ah, yes, to praise me for being studious is like being lecherous." He smiled. "It's hard for you to imagine now, is it? Our ruler actually believes this." "So it's really Lorenzo the Magnificent? You actually know him!" "A little bit. His inscription already reveals that he likes his subjects to be men of taste." "He...does he understand you?" "Know what about me—my sodomy, as you like to call it? Lorenzo doesn't know much about the people around him; he knows their souls as well as their intelligence. You If you have seen him, you will be fascinated by his thoughts. I wonder why your mother didn't tell you about him."

"My mother?" "Yes, your uncle was his guest then, and she would sometimes visit his palace." "Really? You knew her then?" "No, I was, uh... I was busy with other things. I saw her a few times though. She was beautiful, and in retrospect, she was kind of like your uncle, both so smart and knowledgeable. I remember her being very popular. Welcome. Didn't she tell you this?" I shook my head. Throughout my life, she never mentioned it.Keep such a secret from your daughter?It reminded me again of her story: watching the Medici assassins dragged through the streets, the streets stained with blood from where they had been castrated.Needless to say, I felt her fear in her stomach.

"Just pretend I didn't mention it. I heard you were looking for the key to the cabinet. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but the sketches will be gone soon." "Missing? Where are you going?" "Give it back to its owner." "Who does it belong to?" I said, seeing that he did not answer, "if you think I cannot keep your secret, sir, you have chosen the wrong wife." My confusion made him laugh: "His name is Piero Francesco de' Medici, and he was once Botticelli's patron." Of course I knew that he and Lorenzo were cousins ​​and the first to escape to the French camp. "I thought he was a traitor." I said calmly.

"You're even more stupid than I thought." His tone became stern. "Even here, you can't talk nonsense. Listen to me, those who support the Medici family will soon be in danger .Besides, you know only one side of the story. There are many reasons for his treason. When his father was murdered, the lands were all given to Lorenzo. When the fortunes of the Medici bank dwindled, Lorenzo went from Squeezing money from the fiefdoms. Piero Francisco's resentment was growing. But he was not a bad man, in fact a patron of the arts, and history will distinguish him from the political Lorenzo." "I don't see what he's contributing to the city." "That's because he didn't want people to know about it. But his villa at Cafagelo was covered with some of Botticelli's best paintings. There was also a screen with the god of war crouching before Venus, and he seemed Weak and weak, it is difficult to tell whether Venus has taken his soul or his body. Venus herself is in a shell, rising from the sea. Have you heard of her?" "No." My mother once told me the legend of Nastacchio, who had prepared a painting for a wedding in which they were found to come to life.But like my sister, I don't want to hear stories about women's bodies being torn apart, no matter how good the artist may be. "What was his Venus like?" "I have no taste for women, but I think if you look at her, you can see the difference between Plato's and Savonarola's views on art." "Is she pretty?" "Beautiful, yes. But she is more than beautiful. She is a mixture of classical and Christian aesthetics. She is naked, but elegant, she is solemn, but mischievous, and at the same time reveals a look that is either welcoming or refusal. The knowledge of love also seems to be blank. But I think men see her and think about getting her to bed, not taking her to church." "Ah! how I should like to see her!" "You should hope that no one sees her, even for a moment. If her existence were known, our pious monk would burn her like a sinner who swept him away. Let us pray Botticelli Don't confess her yourself. I've heard that he has leaned heavily towards the Snivellers Party, which is meant to be a bunch of hypocrites, when the Florentines were against Savonarola The derogatory name of the partisan..." "No way!" "Oh yes. I think you'd be surprised to see more and more big names following in his footsteps. Not just artists." "Why? I don't understand. We're building a new Athens here, how can they have the heart to watch it crumble?" He stared at the flame, as if he could find the answer there. "Because," he said, "in this place, this mad but wise friar will show them something else. Something in which all are equal." "What will happen then?" "Build a new Jerusalem." Although my husband always knew that he was going to hell when he died, at that moment, he looked very sad.I know he is right.