immortal person

The Lord returned to his kingdom in heaven on the Ascension Day, and the long-awaited turning point for Giovanni came at this time.To celebrate the festival, Bertholdo organized a small competition in the gardens, sponsored by the Medici family.The prize money for the winners is considerable, and the most outstanding works will be permanently displayed in the colonnade of the garden, alongside the sculptures of past masters such as Donatello.Giovanni was the youngest of the apprentices participating in the competition, but was regarded as one of the strongest chasers for the prize money.In order to seize this opportunity, he went to the quarry in Carrara to select stone materials three months ago, and then walked through the streets and alleys of Florence with a charcoal pencil for several days, drawing a thick stack of sketches.He worked almost without sleep and, as Luigi puts it, "the candle in Buonarrotti's room was never extinguished"—the end result, though not entirely satisfactory to him, won the admiration of most.

"I've never seen a Madonna and Child like this," said Bertoldo, walking around his Pietà. "For your age, it's remarkable. You deserve it."

The representative sent by the family to witness the result of the contest was Poliziano.He stood in front of the statue for a long time, and sighed: "I never thought that I could see the brilliance of Plato from the face of a Madonna."

Then he turned around and smiled at the crowd: "I think there is no suspense about the winner of the bonus?"

As a reward, Giovanni received a bulging red velvet purse.He poured all the florins in the bag onto the workbench and watched the lilies on the face of the coin roll like golden rain in the sun.Under the envious eyes of the apprentices, he sent the whole bag of gold coins to the bank on the afternoon of the day he received the bounty, asking them to send it to his home in Caples.Perhaps they still weren't enough to assuage his father's resentment over his career choice, but, what the hell - the fact that he was earning with his own hands the amount of gold his father earned in an entire year set him apart from the past few years of his apprenticeship. The accumulated frustration was swept away and I began to trust my talent again.Happiness is like the wings of Icarus in the myth, and it will take him to fly.

An even bigger surprise hit him when he returned to the garden.As he recalled the scene later, he would think what a beautiful afternoon it was, when Fortuna came down in this garden, and the sunflowers and jasmines blooming at the same time in the atrium couldn't have stirred him more than the news .Bertholdo stood at the door to welcome him back and said to him: "Go and pack your clothes. From today you will live with me in the palace."

He pinned a badge on the front of Giovanni's coat.It was a sterling silver coat of arms inlaid with Medici's Latin inscriptions.

A little later, he knew that it was Lorenzo's instruction, which amplified the jumping joy in his heart for a moment.If he had the poet's talent for constructing language, he would describe the joy at that time like this: Who caught the pigeon wandering in the square and put it into my chest?

"Is it true?" He couldn't help asking again, "Duke said it himself?"

"Yes, yes." Bertoldo replied tirelessly, "Poliziano brought your statue of the Virgin and Child into the palace, and His Highness likes it very much."

Happiness instantly overflowed on the young man's face, almost giving off a halo.Giovanni said no more, but pursed his lips as if in an effort of restraint.Bertoldo glimpsed the young man's agitated heart from the trembling of his eyelashes, and patted his head again.

Young people, old people sigh in their hearts, generation after generation of young people chasing the sun are all cast in a copper mold.

When he first arrived in Florence, Giovanni passed by the lintel of the Medici Palace countless times, imagining the luxury inside the marble exterior wall.The real palace was different from what he had imagined before, but it did not disappoint him.Its original decoration is not extravagant, even simple, but the large number of artworks hidden in it make it shine.A huge Persian tapestry spanned the wall, and two golden lions symbolizing Florence roared at each other on the scarlet velvet; It is a beautiful gift from the Venetian and Castilian fleets, which came here across storms and oceans.The most prominent shrine is a statue of St. Matthew, who has always been regarded as the patron saint of bankers.Giovanni's residence was on the third floor of the palace, next to Bertoldo's suite.The corridor outside the room is where the Medici family used to display their century-old collections. The works of Botticelli and Lippi are exhibited here, and ancient pottery pots and stone carvings collected from Greece and Egypt also stand on both sides.Time seemed to stand still in this corridor, and while he was in it, Giovanni could not even feel the breeze blowing from the other window.

Countless masterpieces have stared at him for thousands of years. Their pupils are carved in bronze, marble or obsidian, and each pair of eyes condenses the soul and painstaking efforts of craftsmen year after year.He also looked back at them, like a silent conversation.He had never seen so many great collections anywhere, and the Garden of Eden in his dream had a concrete image since then, and this was his holiest place.

"Someone once asked me what is the essence of Florence." Bertoldo was not surprised by his eager expression, and his tone could not help revealing pride: "I will tell him without hesitation: it is here."

Yet Giovanni fails to see Lorenzo all day.The Duke never showed up, not even at dinner.The banquet hall in the palace is surprisingly simple, and the carnival murals of Dionysus on both sides are the only decoration here that can be called gorgeous.This day was Friday, and to commemorate the crucifixion of Jesus, the food on the table was not as extravagant as the legend said, but it was also an unusual dish. Giovanni only recognized a plaice with pine nuts.It is always said that in Tuscany it is difficult to find another table of perpetual conviviality like the one in the Medici Palace, but in fact neither Rigolet nor the orchestra played again when Lorenzo was not there.At this time, there are only a dozen people in the hall that can accommodate dozens of people, most of whom are courtiers and artists living in the palace.

Just follow Giovanni's wandering gaze, and Bertholdo knows what he's looking for: "The Duke dined in his study recently."

"With his group of philosophers," someone answered, "look, isn't Poliziano here too?"

The Florentines called Lorenzo and his grandfather Cosimo "philosopher" princes, because their closest confidants were often also Tuscany's most prestigious classicists and jurists.Legend has it that they lunched and discussed matters at a round table every day, and people have compared them to King Arthur and his knights.Giovanni recognized the speaker as Domenico, the famous Florentine jester who was the model for a fresco in the Abbey of the Holy Spirit.The court jester was so beloved by Lorenzo that legend has it that he even dressed up as a woman to impress his master.

"Don't worry," Domenico shook his silver spoon, "soon, they'll come to you."

As if to fulfill his words, Giovanni soon learned that he was going to receive classical education, and Poliziano, a well-known university scholar in the city, would be his tutor.Giovanni remembered the copy he had received on Christmas Day.At his father's request, he had attended grammar school for six years in Urbino, but his Latin and Greek were undoubtedly far from adequate compared with those of the Medici scholars.For the first time he regretted his neglect of clerical work, and his frustration intensified when he returned to his room where Poliziano was waiting for him.They greeted each other briefly, and the topic soon turned to classics.

"I guess you must have read Pliny," he said with a smile. "Every artist should know what he said about Laocoon."

Giovanni shook his head.Perhaps it was because the frustration on his face was too obvious, Poliziano's tone was full of relief: "It's okay, we can take our time. In the next period of time, we can first look at Lucian's works, Then Aristotle, then Plato, praise Plato! And finally our former Poet Laureate, Petrarch! Oh, and don’t forget your Highness’s favorite Dante..."

Mentioning these glorious names, the scholar's face burst into a strange look, and he enumerated the titles of the books that need to be read, as if he could talk for a day and a night.Giovanni waited for a while, and could not help saying: "—Monsieur?"

"...Huh? Please tell me."

Giovanni hesitated for a moment.The doubt arose the moment he stepped into the palace gate, and he had to face it again after the surprise cooled down.

"They said it was an instruction from the Duke." He carefully considered his words, "May I ask why?"

Poliziano smiled.He sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at Giovanni: "This is the Medici Palace. You and I are family friends, so don't be cautious. As for the reason why you are asked to study grammar..."

"Do you think the Duke just wants you to carve for him?" He asked with a smile.

"He called you 'little master' because he thought that you would really become a master in the future," Poliziano patted him on the shoulder. "He thought—we all felt—that what we needed was not a mason, But a true artist."

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Note:

Fortuna: The goddess of fortune in Roman mythology.

In the Middle Ages, sculptors and painters were regarded as craftsmen who performed manual labor. During the Renaissance, their value was gradually recognized, and the image changed from a craftsman to a real "artist". explain.