immortal person

Darkness fell before his eyes like a curtain.Lorenzo felt someone put him back on the bed, as carefully as putting china back on a display rack.The sound of hurried footsteps ran all the way from the stairs into the bedroom, mixed with anxious shouts and fragmentary whispers.He tried to distinguish, three, four or more, the steward blamed the maid for letting him leave, and their voices were crying: "His Royal Highness insists on going..." He tried to excuse them, but his whole body seemed to be crushed Under the boulder, he couldn't raise his hand, or even open his eyes.Giuliano's weary voice came: "The crowd has dispersed." This made his heart sink back to its original place with peace of mind.

Giuliano then thanked Giovanni, not hearing Giovanni's reply, and guessing that perhaps his young man merely shook his head slightly.The doctor asked people to leave the bedroom, the smell of burning herbs filled the air, and someone lifted his collar to see if any red spots appeared.Just then the hand that had been holding him was released, and Giovanni rose to leave.Lorenzo frowned, trying to grab him and stop him immediately, but his fingers only moved feebly.Giovanni was keenly aware of his abnormality, and leaned over to brush his sweaty temple hair.He finally gathered enough strength to open his eyes.

"Are you going?"

Giovanni heard him ask in a low voice.

He soon realized that by "go" Lorenzo did not mean leaving the room.

He sat back on the bed, squeezed Lorenzo's hand again, and gathered his fingers into his palm. "No," he replied hoarsely, "not going."

Lorenzo smiled briefly.He leaned on the soft pillow, nodded slightly, and closed his eyes.

Giovanni did not break his word.In those moments when he was free from the nightmare, Lorenzo felt that he was always by his side.In the long darkness and the strong bitter smell of the medicine stone, he discerned the smell that belonged to Giovanni alone, like the oak tree after the rain, fresh, vigorous, and calm enough to be relied on.One day, while he was still in a coma, he heard the maid joking with Giovanni in a low voice: "I don't know if it's my illusion, but His Highness seems to be calmer when you are here." Giovanni didn't speak, but Loren Zuo can imagine his expression at this time, whether his ears are red, like when he was a teenager?At such moments, his heart lightened up, as if he had shaken off his suffering body.

More often, it's just endless heat and pain.Breathing becomes laborious, with each breath stinging.He seemed to be standing on the edge of a volcano, hot sweat dripping down his forehead and back like boiling oil.Occasionally, he would hear the tide-like cries of people outside the window again, trying to struggle to get out of the bed, but found that it was just an illusion; followed by the afterimages of the past, which suddenly appeared and disappeared like ghosts.He saw him standing in the study when he was a child—it was his grandfather’s study at that time, with a stone in his mouth, reciting the speeches of the ancients aloud, so after more than ten years, the pain from the worn-out lips and tongue reappeared back into his mouth.He remembered that he had had a total of three teachers of oratory, hired by his grandfather with a lot of money, and they all firmly believed that he would soon become Pericles of Florence.When he paused for breath, they would strike his palms with a cane soaked in salt water, as if to expel the devil called sloth from his body.After the recitation, the next step is to practice smiling in the mirror, "You have to make everyone like you, or at least pretend to like you effortlessly." This is a very effective training. After that, most people say that he Likeable enough to be a "natural born leader".

He also saw himself standing on the high platform of the municipal square when he was a teenager.It was his first speech. At the age of 13, his grandfather poured him a glass of wine that morning and said, "It can bring you courage." In the long years since then, he has indeed used it to store a lot of cowardice.It was a perfect speech, carefully woven words matched with powerful gestures, cheered by waves of cheers from the people below, but he felt like an actor, and those girls who dressed as elves at the festival It's no different.

"I am Lorenzo de' Medici" - this is the first sentence he said on stage.

"You are Lorenzo de' Medici."

Finally, the face of his grandfather appeared in front of him.

Only his grandfather always called him by his full name, as if to let him remember his last name all the time.The old man's face was craggy and craggy, and his piercing blue eyes, reminiscent of a falcon, always turned him back into that feeble child.

"What are you lying about?" cried the stern face to him. "Get up!"

——He suddenly woke up.

After a moment, he reached for the ruby ​​ring on his left hand—he never took it off, even in his sleep.His fingertips slowly slid across the ring engraved with the family crest, and he took it off and held it in his palm.Like a drowning man grabbing driftwood, and a thirsty man grabbing spring water, he exhaled slowly.

"Pazzi was among those people, no doubt about it," Giuliano said.

"Otherwise the populace wouldn't lose their minds so easily," added another. "He came prepared, of course. The question is—what does he want to do?"

There was a terrible silence - everyone present thought they knew what he wanted to do.

"Thank the Lord that Lorenzo woke up in time," Poliziano murmured, "otherwise it would have been difficult for our guards to avoid conflicts. He did a good job. But I'm still worried..."

He paused, and expressed his worries: "We used to praise his humility, but he was too humble."

"I reminded him," Mirandola said, pacing up and down the carpet, "that he is not a servant of the people, nor should he be. Not to mention—look at the world we live in! Wars, plagues, murders, factions... ...I sometimes even think, do the people still need a public servant...?"

When Lorenzo was asleep, every time Giovanni passed by the study, he could hear the suppressed debates of the advisers, and these disputes often lasted a whole day.When the Duke woke up, the quarrel moved to his bedside, at which point Giovanni would voluntarily leave, leaving space for them.After the sun enters Aries, the weather gradually warms up, and some days can even be called hot.The winter jasmine climbed up the window edge, sending a faint fragrance and greenery.Perhaps the Lord heard people praying day after day—Giovanni saw Giuliano knelt in the prayer room turning the rosary round and round—Lorenzo slowly recovered, and Everything revives in spring together.

About half of the time every day, he was able to maintain his sobriety, and began to review the backlog of documents in spite of everyone's opposition.At the very beginning, Giovanni would be on the sidelines to ink for him, looking for the laws and regulations he needed.It seemed natural to take over such a matter, they cooperated so naturally, Lorenzo didn't say anything, but made the clerk beside him at a loss.It took several days before Lorenzo made a statement. "Give him back Libby's errand," he said, looking at the clerk standing beside him with a smile in his eyes. "Our statue needs you more."

"Stop teaching Pitti grammar, too," Lorenzo added, before Giovanni left the room. "He will be taught by the right man. You should have something worthwhile to do."

Giovanni was taken aback, then smiled.

So he went back to the dusty attic and recalled the apprentices who had been idle for many days.The family had already prepared a piece of marble for him, which was mined in Roman times, and the hardness and luster were good enough, so that they didn't have to go to the quarry again.They quickly cut it and settled on the official pattern.From dawn to dusk, the two worked non-stop.In the evening, he will return to the Medici Palace. If Lorenzo is busy, he will stay downstairs to help the guests identify their collections of ancient gems and paintings - the news of his arrival in Florence has already spread in the city Everyone wanted to see the young sculptor, who was said to be the favorite of the popes and dukes; the rest of the time, he sat next to Lorenzo, who occasionally played a game of chess. chess player.No one had any dissatisfaction with the status quo - maybe he just didn't say a word, but - he was very content.

At night, he sometimes walked with Poliziano, admiring the ancient sculptures displayed in the garden.There are many new collections that he has not seen before: Marsyas carved in red stone, Apollo playing the harp, and the plundered Persephone, their smooth surfaces glow with a lightness in the moonlight. The silver light is quiet, pure and elegant.The night is clear, the early blooming trees sway gently in the wind, and nightingales chirp on the branches.There are still many roaming people in the garden late at night.Once they met Giuliano who was leading the horses out of the stables.A momentary embarrassment appeared on Giuliano's youthful face when he saw him and Poliziano.He quickly concealed his past, gave them a slight nod, and then left west through the back door.

The curfew was approaching, and the banquets in the rest of the mansions had already ended. Even the duke's brother shouldn't leave easily at this time.Giovanni looked at Poliziano, and the scholar smiled and shook his head meaningfully.

Early the next morning, when Giovanni was about to leave the palace, he met Giuliano again.

The Medici brothers are very similar in stature and appearance. Both of them have blond hair and slender stature, like a pair of twins.The morning sun had not yet fully risen, and under the faint morning light, he almost thought that the person who had just entered through the back door and fell off his horse was Lorenzo from afar.Giovanni stood by the colonnade and watched Giuliano coming towards him, perhaps over the brush of flowers on the side of the street, his dark blond locks still wet with dew.Giuliano smiled at him, bowed his head and left hastily.

The moment he passed by, Giovanni smelled the scent that hadn't gone away on his body-lily flower perfume from Cologne, the price of an ounce is more expensive than gold, and the new favorite of every Florentine lady.

He looked at Giuliano's fleeing back, and suddenly understood what the "beauty" the tavern clerk was talking about was all about.

The author has something to say:

*The tavern guy mentioned in the last paragraph is detailed in Chapter [-]^^

On August 8, part of the original chapters have been replaced with a revised version, mainly five and twelve added a little new content, which has a little impact on the plot of the following text