immortal person

Immediately after Lorenzo left, he chiseled out one of Phaon's teeth and constructed a decayed and uneven gum for the Roman faun.This is an old god who served as a servant of Bacchus in the distant era, but now he has long lost people's worship and has been forgotten in the cracks of history.To his surprise, this is just a small change, but it seems that the whole statue has a soul in an instant.While annoyed by his secrets, Giovanni couldn't help but think of the legends about the duke again.They say he was good at art, and it seems to be true.

He tossed and turned sleeplessly that night.Usually vespers and the rosary were effective in giving him a good night's sleep, but faith seemed to have lost its effect this night. "Little Master," Giovanni recalled the title.Such unsparing compliments always make his cheeks heat up, because they are sincere and rare.He loved painting and sculpture when he was a teenager, a hobby that his father, who was a doctor, always despised. "Are you going to be with the shoemaker and the baker?" This has become my father's mantra. "Just enjoy a lowly job like this?"

However, when he thought of the words that had humiliated him at night, his heart was suddenly filled with small pieces of happiness.Everyone can see the beauty of art, but not every viewer is willing to be with the artist.And that no longer matters.In this glorious city full of flowers, the most prestigious people in the city praised him personally.Although the man was very young, he was kind and sincere, and he believed that his praise must come from the heart.With this in mind, Giovanni opened his eyes and spread his arms as if to embrace the moonlight.

The next morning, Bertholdo handed him an envelope.The brown vellum envelope was printed with a vermilion coat of arms. Giovanni carefully opened it, and five small round gold coins fell into his palm.Amidst the exclamation of the apprentices, he looked at Bertholdo hesitantly.Except for the commissions he received privately outside, the apprentices seldom get paid. Some teenagers saw real gold for the first time. After hearing the news, they quickly gathered around him, snatched the gold coins without any explanation, and bit the corners of it.

After loosening his teeth, Luigi's eyes widened: "It's the real Florin!"

"Hail Mary—" the teenagers whistled.

Bertholdo smacked them on the head, and Luigi stuck out his tongue and ran away.Giovanni was still waiting for his explanation, and Bertholdo seemed to want to pat him on the head, but finally pressed his shoulder hard.

"A stipend from the duke," he said. "Do well, 'Little Master.'"

This slightly joking title immediately brought Giovanni back to yesterday's sunny afternoon.He thought of the young man as dazzling as Adonis under the green shade, and his face flushed almost immediately.Bertoldo laughed—he had seen a similar expression on the faces of too many artists who were favored by the family for the first time.

"Great future, Joe," he said, laughing, and clapped him on the shoulder again.

The craze for carving pharaohs began to flourish among apprentices from this time on.Giovanni regarded this afternoon's past as a secret between himself and the Duke, and never mentioned it to others, but he didn't know that there was a pair of prying eyes behind the berry bushes that day. The 13-year-old Pierre witnessed the duke's kindness and generosity, extolling it as yet another Lorenzo anecdote.The apprentices had long heard that the duke favored the myths and legends of the classical age, and the story of Faon was undoubtedly a strong example of this statement, so they immediately set out to match their preferences, hoping to get his favor like Giovanni.Giovanni, who was used to immersing himself in his personal world, only discovered the fanaticism of his companions three days later. After a brief moment of annoyance, he immediately stopped his preparations for the bust of Venus and started drawing a sketch of the sleeping lion .

But none of them expected the Duke.For the next six months, Lorenzo never set foot in the San Marco Garden.The apprentices learned to wait in disappointment and no longer count on overnight miracles.Giovanni was never one of the apprentices who moaned at sunset, but he concealed a loss even deeper than the others.The young man with whom he had had friendly conversations seemed to be an erratic mountain god in the forest, appearing and disappearing immediately, only the five florins a month reminded him that all this was not a summer dream.He moved the finely modified Phaon into his room, alongside the Madonna holding the Child.A secret wish joined his daily vespers, in the hope that they might meet again at dawn.

Perhaps the Virgin really heard his prayers, and he received a gift from Lorenzo on Christmas Day.The heralds of the Medici family brought inexhaustible gifts to the apprentices in the garden, enough to prove the family's generosity to the innocent teenagers.Everyone was well rewarded, and Lorenzo's praise was louder than a crackling fireplace under the mistletoe.When it was Giovanni's turn, he took several sets of exquisitely inlaid gold and silver utensils from the herald, and was about to bow his head in thanks when he was suddenly pulled by his wrist.

The black-haired young man serving as the herald was smiling down at him.In the near future, Giovanni knew his name as Poliziano, Lorenzo's close friend and advisor, also a famous grammarian and classicist.

"Your Highness specifically asked me to deliver a gift to you." Poliziano whispered, "Please don't take this as a reward from a patron, but as a gift from a friend—we often discuss it in gatherings." it."

He pulled out a book from behind him as if by magic.It was a volume of Plato in Latin, a rare manuscript from the time of Cosimo, with detailed commentary by Ficino.Giovanni opened it in amazement, and held his breath when he saw the beautiful inscription on the title page.

He bowed to the young herald.He hurried back to his room, and the door slammed behind him. Giovanni leaned against the door panel and waited for his breathing to gradually stabilize before turning to the title page again.

My Little Master:

May the good times never come too late.

Your faithful Lorenzo de' Medici.

The moon slid across the window lattice, as soft as silver waves.Giovanni fell on the mattress, held the book in front of his eyes, and repeatedly stroked the name illuminated by the moonlight with his fingers.He remembers—there is an old saying—I give you knowledge, may your virtue last as long as your knowledge...

As if the moonlight was also cruising into his chest, Giovanni finally curled the corners of his mouth.He hugged the book tightly to his chest and whispered, "Long live the little red ball."*

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Note:

Bacchus: The god of wine in Roman mythology, corresponding to Dionysus in Greek mythology.

Florin: A widely circulated gold coin of the Renaissance, minted in Genoa and Florence.

The little red ball is the decoration of the Medici family.

Ficino and Poliziano are the names of famous scholars who were closely connected with the Medici family during the Renaissance, and this article only uses their names.