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THE BORGIAS, No.1-THE BORGIAS PROLOGUE

No.1-THE BORGIAS PROLOGUE

On the 8th of April, 1492, in a bedroom of the Carneggi Palace, about three miles from Florence, were three men grouped about a bed whereon a fourth lay dying.

The first of these three men, sitting at the foot of the bed, and half hidden, that he might conceal his tears, in the gold-brocaded curtains, was Ermolao Barbaro, author of the treatise 'On Celibacy', and of 'Studies in Pliny': the year before, when he was at Rome in the capacity of ambassador of the Florentine Republic, he had been appointed Patriarch of Aquileia by Innocent VIII. The second, who was kneeling and holding one hand of the dying man between his own, was Angelo Poliziano, the Catullus of the fifteenth century, a classic of the lighter sort, who in his Latin verses might have been mistaken for a poet of the Augustan age.

The third, who was standing up and leaning against one of the twisted columns of the bed-head, following with profound sadness the progress of the malady which he read in the face of his departing friend, was the famous Pico della Mirandola, who at the age of twenty could speak twenty-two languages, and who had offered to reply in each of these languages to any seven hundred questions that might be put to him by the twenty most learned men in the whole world, if they could be assembled at Florence.

The man on the bed was Lorenzo the Magnificent, who at the beginning of the year had been attacked by a severe and deep-seated fever, to which was added the gout, a hereditary ailment in his family. He had found at last that the draughts containing dissolved pearls which the quack doctor, Leoni di Spoleto, prescribed for him (as if he desired to adapt his remedies rather to the riches of his patient than to his necessities) were useless and unavailing, and so he had come to understand that he must part from those gentle-tongued women of his, those sweet-voiced poets, his palaces and their rich hangings; therefore he had summoned to give him absolution for his sins—in a man of less high place they might perhaps have been called crimes—the Dominican, Giralamo Francesco Savonarola.

It was not, however, without an inward fear, against which the praises of his friends availed nothing, that the pleasure-seeker and usurper awaited that severe and gloomy preacher by whose words all Florence was stirred, and on whose pardon henceforth depended all his hope for another world.

Indeed, Savonarola was one of those men of stone, coming, like the statue of the Commandante, to knock at the door of a Don Giovanni, and in the midst of feast and orgy to announce that it is even now the moment to begin to think of Heaven. He had been born at Ferrara, whither his family, one of the most illustrious of Padua, had been called by Niccolo, Marchese d'Este, and at the age of twenty-three, summoned by an irresistible vocation, had fled from his father's house, and had taken the vows in the cloister of Dominican monks at Florence. There, where he was appointed by his superiors to give lessons in philosophy, the young novice had from the first to battle against the defects of a voice that was both harsh and weak, a defective pronunciation, and above all, the depression of his physical powers, exhausted as they were by too severe abstinence.

Savonarola from that time condemned himself to the most absolute seclusion, and disappeared in the depths of his convent, as if the slab of his tomb had already fallen over him. There, kneeling on the flags, praying unceasingly before a wooden crucifix, fevered by vigils and penances, he soon passed out of contemplation into ecstasy, and began to feel in himself that inward prophetic impulse which summoned him to preach the reformation of the Church.

Nevertheless, the reformation of Savonarola, more reverential than Luther's, which followed about five-and-twenty years later, respected the thing while attacking the man, and had as its aim the altering of teaching that was human, not faith that was of God. He did not work, like the German monk, by reasoning, but by enthusiasm. With him logic always gave way before inspiration: he was not a theologian, but a prophet. Yet, although hitherto he had bowed his head before the authority of the Church, he had already raised it against the temporal power. To him religion and liberty appeared as two virgins equally sacred; so that, in his view, Lorenzo in subjugating the one was as culpable as Pope Innocent VIII in dishonouring the other. The result of this was that, so long as Lorenzo lived in riches, happiness, and magnificence, Savonarola had never been willing, whatever entreaties were made, to sanction by his presence a power which he considered illegitimate. But Lorenzo on his deathbed sent for him, and that was another matter. The austere preacher set forth at once, bareheaded and barefoot, hoping to save not only the soul of the dying man but also the liberty of the republic.

Lorenzo, as we have said, was awaiting the arrival of Savonarola with an impatience mixed with uneasiness; so that, when he heard the sound of his steps, his pale face took a yet more deathlike tinge, while at the same time he raised himself on his elbow and ordered his three friends to go away. They obeyed at once, and scarcely had they left by one door than the curtain of the other was raised, and the monk, pale, immovable, solemn, appeared on the threshold. When he perceived him, Lorenzo dei Medici, reading in his marble brow the inflexibility of a statue, fell back on his bed, breathing a sigh so profound that one might have supposed it was his last.

The monk glanced round the room as though to assure himself that he was really alone with the dying man; then he advanced with a slow and solemn step towards the bed. Lorenzo watched his approach with terror; then, when he was close beside him, he cried:

"O my father, I have been a very great sinner!" "The mercy of God is infinite," replied the monk; "and I come into your presence laden with the divine mercy." "You believe, then, that God will forgive my sins?" cried the dying man, renewing his hope as he heard from the lips of the monk such unexpected words.

"Your sins and also your crimes, God will forgive them all," replied Savonarola. "God will forgive your vanities, your adulterous pleasures, your obscene festivals; so much for your sins. God will forgive you for promising two thousand florins reward to the man who should bring you the head of Dietisalvi, Nerone Nigi, Angelo Antinori, Niccalo Soderini, and twice the money if they were handed over alive; God will forgive you for dooming to the scaffold or the gibbet the son of Papi Orlandi, Francesco di Brisighella, Bernardo Nardi, Jacopo Frescobaldi, Amoretto Baldovinetti, Pietro Balducci, Bernardo di Banding, Francesco Frescobaldi, and more than three hundred others whose names were none the less dear to Florence because they were less renowned; so much for your crimes." And at each of these names which Savonarola pronounced slowly, his eyes fixed on the dying man, he replied with a groan which proved the monk's memory to be only too true. Then at last, when he had finished, Lorenzo asked in a doubtful tone:

"Then do you believe, my father, that God will forgive me everything, both my sins and my crimes?" "Everything," said Savonarola, "but on three conditions." "What are they?" asked the dying man.

"The first," said Savonarola, "is that you feel a complete faith in the power and the mercy of God." "My father," replied Lorenzo eagerly, "I feel this faith in the very depths of my heart." "The second," said Savonarola, "is that you give back the property of others which you have unjustly confiscated and kept." "My father, shall I have time?" asked the dying man.

"God will give it to you," replied the monk. Lorenzo shut his eyes, as though to reflect more at his ease; then, after a moment's silence, he replied: "Yes, my father, I will do it." "The third," resumed Savonarola, "is that you restore to the republic her ancient independence and her former liberty." Lorenzo sat up on his bed, shaken by a convulsive movement, and questioned with his eyes the eyes of the Dominican, as though he would find out if he had deceived himself and not heard aright. Savonarola repeated the same words.

"Never! never!" exclaimed Lorenzo, falling back on his bed and shaking his head,—"never!" The monk, without replying a single word, made a step to withdraw.

"My father, my father," said the dying man, "do not leave me thus: have pity on me!" "Have pity on Florence," said the monk. "But, my father," cried Lorenzo, "Florence is free, Florence is happy." "Florence is a slave, Florence is poor," cried Savonarola, "poor in genius, poor in money, and poor in courage; poor in genius, because after you, Lorenzo, will come your son Piero; poor in money, because from the funds of the republic you have kept up the magnificence of your family and the credit of your business houses; poor in courage, because you have robbed the rightful magistrates of the authority which was constitutionally theirs, and diverted the citizens from the double path of military and civil life, wherein, before they were enervated by your luxuries, they had displayed the virtues of the ancients; and therefore, when the day shall dawn which is not far distant," continued the monk, his eyes fixed and glowing as if he were reading in the future, "whereon the barbarians shall descend from the mountains, the walls of our towns, like those of Jericho, shall fall at the blast of their trumpets." "And do you desire that I should yield up on my deathbed the power that has made the glory of my whole life?" cried Lorenzo dei Medici.

"It is not I who desire it; it is the Lord," replied Savonarola coldly. "Impossible, impossible!" murmured Lorenzo.

"Very well; then die as you have lived!" cried the monk, "in the midst of your courtiers and flatterers; let them ruin your soul as they have ruined your body!" And at these words, the austere Dominican, without listening to the cries of the dying man, left the room as he had entered it, with face and step unaltered; far above human things he seemed to soar, a spirit already detached from the earth.

At the cry which broke from Lorenzo dei Medici when he saw him disappear, Ermolao, Poliziano, and Pico delta Mirandola, who had heard all, returned into the room, and found their friend convulsively clutching in his arms a magnificent crucifix which he had just taken down from the bed-head. In vain did they try to reassure him with friendly words. Lorenzo the Magnificent only replied with sobs; and one hour after the scene which we have just related, his lips clinging to the feet of the Christ, he breathed his last in the arms of these three men, of whom the most fortunate—though all three were young—was not destined to survive him more than two years. "Since his death was to bring about many calamities," says Niccolo Macchiavelli, "it was the will of Heaven to show this by omens only too certain: the dome of the church of Santa Regarata was struck by lightning, and Roderigo Borgia was elected pope."

No.1-THE BORGIAS PROLOGUE Nr.1-Der BORGIAS PROLOG No.1-EL PROLOGO DE BORGIAS N°1-LE PROLOGUE BORGIAS No.1-ボルジアのプロローグ Nr.1-BORGIAS PROLOGAS Nr 1 - PROLOG BORGIASA N.º 1-A PROLOGO DE BORGIAS No.1-Пролог о Борджиасе №1 - ПРОЛОГ БОРДЖІАСА

On the 8th of April, 1492, in a bedroom of the Carneggi Palace, about three miles from Florence, were three men grouped about a bed whereon a fourth lay dying. Am 8. April 1492 waren in einem Schlafzimmer des Carneggi-Palastes, etwa drei Meilen von Florenz entfernt, drei Männer um ein Bett gruppiert, auf dem ein vierter im Sterben lag. Le 8 avril 1492, dans une chambre du palais Carneggi, à environ trois milles de Florence, se trouvaient trois hommes groupés autour d'un lit sur lequel un quatrième gisait mourant. 8 апреля 1492 года в спальне дворца Карнеджи, примерно в трех милях от Флоренции, трое мужчин собрались около кровати, на которой умирал четвертый. 8 квітня 1492 року в спальні палацу Карнеґґі, приблизно в трьох милях від Флоренції, троє чоловіків згрупувалися біля ліжка, на якому лежав при смерті четвертий.

The first of these three men, sitting at the foot of the bed, and half hidden, that he might conceal his tears, in the gold-brocaded curtains, was Ermolao Barbaro, author of the treatise 'On Celibacy', and of 'Studies in Pliny': the year before, when he was at Rome in the capacity of ambassador of the Florentine Republic, he had been appointed Patriarch of Aquileia by Innocent VIII. Der erste dieser drei Männer, der am Fußende des Bettes saß und halb verborgen war, um seine Tränen hinter den goldbrokatierten Vorhängen zu verbergen, war Ermolao Barbaro, Autor der Abhandlung „Über das Zölibat“ und der „Studien“. in Plinius“: Im Jahr zuvor, als er als Botschafter der Florentiner Republik in Rom weilte, war er von Innozenz VIII. zum Patriarchen von Aquileia ernannt worden. Le premier de ces trois hommes, assis au pied du lit, et à moitié caché, pour cacher ses larmes, dans les rideaux de brocart d'or, était Ermolao Barbaro, auteur du traité « Du célibat » et des « Études à Pline' : l'année précédente, alors qu'il était à Rome en qualité d'ambassadeur de la République florentine, il avait été nommé patriarche d'Aquilée par Innocent VIII. Первым из этих трех мужчин, сидевшим у изножья кровати и наполовину скрытым, чтобы скрыть свои слезы, за золочеными парчовыми занавесками, был Эрмолао Барбаро, автор трактата «О безбрачии» и «Исследований». у Плиния: за год до этого, когда он был в Риме в качестве посла Флорентийской республики, он был назначен патриархом Аквилеи Иннокентием VIII. Першим із цих трьох чоловіків, що сидів у ногах ліжка, наполовину сховавшись, щоб приховати сльози, за золотисто-брокадровими завісами, був Ермолао Барбаро, автор трактату "Про безшлюбність" та "Дослідження Плінія": рік тому, коли він перебував у Римі як посол Флорентійської республіки, Інокентій VIII призначив його Патріархом Аквілеї. The second, who was kneeling and holding one hand of the dying man between his own, was Angelo Poliziano, the Catullus of the fifteenth century, a classic of the lighter sort, who in his Latin verses might have been mistaken for a poet of the Augustan age. Der zweite, der kniete und eine Hand des Sterbenden zwischen den seinen hielt, war Angelo Poliziano, der Catull des fünfzehnten Jahrhunderts, ein Klassiker der leichteren Sorte, der in seinen lateinischen Versen für einen Dichter hätte gehalten werden können Augustanisches Zeitalter. Le second, agenouillé et tenant une main du mourant entre les siennes, était Angelo Poliziano, le Catulle du XVe siècle, un classique de la sorte plus légère, qui dans ses vers latins aurait pu être pris pour un poète du Âge d'Auguste. ひざまずいて瀕死の男の片手を自分の手で挟んでいた二人目は、アンジェロ・ポリツィアーノ、15世紀のカトゥルス、ラテン語の詩ではアウグスト時代の詩人と見紛うような、軽いタイプの古典である。 Вторым, который стоял на коленях и держал одну руку умирающего между своими, был Анджело Полициано, Катулл пятнадцатого века, классик более легкого толка, которого в его латинских стихах можно было бы принять за поэта XV века. Августовский век. Другий, який стояв на колінах і тримав одну руку вмираючого між своїми, був Анджело Поліціано, Катулл п'ятнадцятого століття, класик легкого стилю, якого в його латинських віршах можна було б прийняти за поета августійшої епохи.

The third, who was standing up and leaning against one of the twisted columns of the bed-head, following with profound sadness the progress of the malady which he read in the face of his departing friend, was the famous Pico della Mirandola, who at the age of twenty could speak twenty-two languages, and who had offered to reply in each of these languages to any seven hundred questions that might be put to him by the twenty most learned men in the whole world, if they could be assembled at Florence. Třetí, který stál opřený o jeden z pokroucených sloupů čela postele a s hlubokým smutkem sledoval postup nemoci, kterou četl ve tváři svého odcházejícího přítele, byl slavný Pico della Mirandola, který ve svých dvaceti letech ovládal dvaadvacet jazyků a který se nabídl, že v každém z těchto jazyků odpoví na sedm set otázek, které mu položí dvacet nejvzdělanějších mužů celého světa, pokud se sejdou ve Florencii. Der dritte, der aufrecht stand und sich an eine der krummen Säulen des Betthauptes lehnte, verfolgte mit tiefer Traurigkeit das Fortschreiten der Krankheit, die er im Gesicht seines scheidenden Freundes las, war der berühmte Pico della Mirandola, der bei der zwanzig Jahre alt war, zweiundzwanzig Sprachen sprechen konnte und sich bereit erklärt hatte, in jeder dieser Sprachen auf siebenhundert Fragen zu antworten, die ihm von den zwanzig gelehrtesten Männern der ganzen Welt gestellt werden könnten, wenn sie zusammenkommen könnten Florenz. 三人目は、ベッドヘッドのねじれた柱の一本にもたれて立ち上がり、旅立つ友人の顔から読み取れる病気の経過を深い悲しみとともに追っていた、有名なピコ・デッラ・ミランドラだった。 Третім, який стояв, притулившись до однієї з кручених колон ліжка, і з глибоким сумом стежив за розвитком хвороби, яку читав на обличчі свого друга, що помирав, був знаменитий Піко делла Мірандола, який у віці двадцяти років володів двадцятьма двома мовами і який запропонував відповісти кожною з цих мов на сімсот запитань, які могли б поставити йому двадцять найвченіших людей світу, якщо б їх можна було б зібрати у Флоренції.

The man on the bed was Lorenzo the Magnificent, who at the beginning of the year had been attacked by a severe and deep-seated fever, to which was added the gout, a hereditary ailment in his family. Der Mann auf dem Bett war Lorenzo der Prächtige, der Anfang des Jahres von einem schweren und tiefsitzenden Fieber befallen worden war, zu dem die Gicht hinzukam, eine Erbkrankheit in seiner Familie. L'homme sur le lit était Laurent le Magnifique, qui au début de l'année avait été atteint d'une fièvre sévère et profonde, à laquelle s'ajoutait la goutte, mal héréditaire dans sa famille. ベッドに横たわっていたのはロレンツォ・マグニフィセントで、年明け早々、激しい発熱に襲われた。 Человеком на кровати был Лоренцо Великолепный, которого в начале года поразила тяжелая и глубокая лихорадка, к которой добавилась подагра, наследственное заболевание в его семье. Чоловік на ліжку був Лоренцо Пишним, якого на початку року вразила сильна і глибока лихоманка, до якої додалася подагра, спадкова хвороба в його родині. He had found at last that the draughts containing dissolved pearls which the quack doctor, Leoni di Spoleto, prescribed for him (as if he desired to adapt his remedies rather to the riches of his patient than to his necessities) were useless and unavailing, and so he had come to understand that he must part from those gentle-tongued women of his, those sweet-voiced poets, his palaces and their rich hangings; therefore he had summoned to give him absolution for his sins—in a man of less high place they might perhaps have been called crimes—the Dominican, Giralamo Francesco Savonarola. Er hatte endlich festgestellt, dass die Tränke mit aufgelösten Perlen, die ihm der Quacksalber Leoni di Spoleto verschrieb (als ob er seine Heilmittel eher dem Reichtum seines Patienten als seinen Bedürfnissen anpassen wollte), nutzlos und vergeblich waren und so hatte er verstanden, dass er sich von seinen sanftzüngigen Frauen, diesen Dichtern mit süßen Stimmen, seinen Palästen und ihren reichen Vorhängen trennen musste; deshalb hatte er den Dominikaner Giralamo Francesco Savonarola aufgefordert, ihm von seinen Sünden - bei einem weniger hohen Mann hätte man sie vielleicht Verbrechen nennen können - die Absolution zu erteilen. Il avait trouvé enfin que les potions contenant des perles dissoutes que lui prescrivait le charlatan Leoni di Spoleto (comme s'il voulait adapter ses remèdes plutôt à la richesse de son patient qu'à ses besoins) étaient inutiles et inutiles, et aussi avait-il compris qu'il devait se séparer de ses femmes à la langue douce, de ses poètes à la voix suave, de ses palais et de leurs riches tentures ; c'est pourquoi il avait sommé de lui donner l'absolution de ses péchés — chez un homme de moindre rang, on aurait peut-être pu les qualifier de crimes — le dominicain Giralamo Francesco Savonarole. В конце концов он обнаружил, что лекарства с растворенным жемчугом, которые прописал ему доктор-шарлатан Леони ди Сполето (как будто он хотел приспособить свои лекарства скорее к богатству своего пациента, чем к его потребностям), были бесполезны и бесполезны, и так он понял, что должен расстаться с этими своими кроткими женщинами, с этими сладкоголосыми поэтами, со своими дворцами и их богатыми драпировками; поэтому он призвал, чтобы дать ему отпущение его грехов - в человеке менее высокого положения они могли бы быть названы преступлениями - доминиканец Джираламо Франческо Савонарола.

It was not, however, without an inward fear, against which the praises of his friends availed nothing, that the pleasure-seeker and usurper awaited that severe and gloomy preacher by whose words all Florence was stirred, and on whose pardon henceforth depended all his hope for another world. Doch nicht ohne innere Furcht, gegen die die Lobeshymnen seiner Freunde nichts halfen, erwartete der Vergnügungssüchtige und Usurpator jenen strengen und düsteren Prediger, durch dessen Worte ganz Florenz in Aufruhr versetzt wurde und von dessen Verzeihung fortan alles von ihm abhing Hoffnung auf eine andere Welt. Ce n'était pourtant pas sans une crainte intérieure, contre laquelle les louanges de ses amis ne servaient à rien, que le jouisseur et l'usurpateur attendaient ce prédicateur sévère et sombre par les paroles duquel toute Florence était émue, et du pardon duquel dépendait désormais toute sa vie. l'espoir d'un autre monde. Однако не без внутреннего страха, против которого бессильны были похвалы его друзей, искатель удовольствий и узурпатор ждал сурового и мрачного проповедника, чьи слова взбудоражили всю Флоренцию и от чьего прощения отныне зависела вся его жизнь. надежда на другой мир.

Indeed, Savonarola was one of those men of stone, coming, like the statue of the Commandante, to knock at the door of a Don Giovanni, and in the midst of feast and orgy to announce that it is even now the moment to begin to think of Heaven. Savonarola byl vskutku jedním z těch kamenných mužů, kteří přicházejí jako socha Commandanta, aby zaklepali na dveře dona Giovanniho a uprostřed hostiny a orgií oznámili, že právě teď je ta pravá chvíle začít myslet na nebe. В самом деле, Савонарола был одним из тех каменных людей, которые, подобно статуе коменданта, приходят, чтобы постучать в дверь Дон Жуана и посреди пиршества и оргии возвестить, что сейчас самое время начать думать о Небесах. He had been born at Ferrara, whither his family, one of the most illustrious of Padua, had been called by Niccolo, Marchese d'Este, and at the age of twenty-three, summoned by an irresistible vocation, had fled from his father's house, and had taken the vows in the cloister of Dominican monks at Florence. Il était né à Ferrare, où sa famille, une des plus illustres de Padoue, avait été appelée par Niccolo, marquis d'Este, et à l'âge de vingt-trois ans, appelé par une irrésistible vocation, s'était enfui de chez son père. maison, et avait prononcé ses vœux dans le cloître des moines dominicains à Florence. There, where he was appointed by his superiors to give lessons in philosophy, the young novice had from the first to battle against the defects of a voice that was both harsh and weak, a defective pronunciation, and above all, the depression of his physical powers, exhausted as they were by too severe abstinence. Là, où il est désigné par ses supérieurs pour donner des cours de philosophie, le jeune novice doit d'emblée lutter contre les défauts d'une voix à la fois rauque et faible, une prononciation défectueuse et surtout la dépression de son physique. puissances, épuisées qu'elles étaient par une abstinence trop sévère.

Savonarola from that time condemned himself to the most absolute seclusion, and disappeared in the depths of his convent, as if the slab of his tomb had already fallen over him. Савонарола с этого времени осудил себя на полнейшее уединение и исчез в глубине своего монастыря, как будто на него уже упала плита его гробницы. There, kneeling on the flags, praying unceasingly before a wooden crucifix, fevered by vigils and penances, he soon passed out of contemplation into ecstasy, and began to feel in himself that inward prophetic impulse which summoned him to preach the reformation of the Church. Là, agenouillé sur les drapeaux, priant sans cesse devant un crucifix de bois, fiévreux de veillées et de pénitences, il passa bientôt de la contemplation à l'extase, et commença à ressentir en lui cette impulsion prophétique intérieure qui l'appelait à prêcher la réforme de l'Église. Там, стоя на коленях на плащах, молясь непрестанно перед деревянным распятием, лихорадочный от бдений и епитимий, он скоро перешел от созерцания в экстаз и стал чувствовать в себе тот внутренний пророческий порыв, который звал его к проповеди реформации Церкви.

Nevertheless, the reformation of Savonarola, more reverential than Luther's, which followed about five-and-twenty years later, respected the thing while attacking the man, and had as its aim the altering of teaching that was human, not faith that was of God. Néanmoins, la réforme de Savonarole, plus révérencielle que celle de Luther, qui suivit environ vingt-cinq ans plus tard, respecta la chose en s'attaquant à l'homme, et eut pour but d'altérer l'enseignement qui était humain, et non la foi qui était de Dieu. . Тем не менее, реформация Савонаролы, более благоговейная, чем реформация Лютера, которая последовала двадцать пять лет спустя, уважала вещь, нападая на человека, и имела своей целью изменение учения, которое было человеческим, а не веры, которая была от Бога. . He did not work, like the German monk, by reasoning, but by enthusiasm. With him logic always gave way before inspiration: he was not a theologian, but a prophet. Yet, although hitherto he had bowed his head before the authority of the Church, he had already raised it against the temporal power. Pourtant, s'il avait jusque-là incliné la tête devant l'autorité de l'Église, il l'avait déjà relevée contre le pouvoir temporel. To him religion and liberty appeared as two virgins equally sacred; so that, in his view, Lorenzo in subjugating the one was as culpable as Pope Innocent VIII in dishonouring the other. La religion et la liberté lui apparaissaient comme deux vierges également sacrées ; de sorte que, selon lui, Lorenzo en subjuguant l'un était aussi coupable que le pape Innocent VIII en déshonorant l'autre. Религия и свобода казались ему двумя одинаково священными девами; так что, по его мнению, Лоренцо, поработивший одного, был так же виновен, как папа Иннокентий VIII, обесчестивший другого. The result of this was that, so long as Lorenzo lived in riches, happiness, and magnificence, Savonarola had never been willing, whatever entreaties were made, to sanction by his presence a power which he considered illegitimate. Il en résulta que, tant que Lorenzo vécut dans la richesse, le bonheur et la magnificence, Savonarole n'avait jamais voulu, quelles qu'en fussent les instances, sanctionner par sa présence un pouvoir qu'il considérait comme illégitime. But Lorenzo on his deathbed sent for him, and that was another matter. The austere preacher set forth at once, bareheaded and barefoot, hoping to save not only the soul of the dying man but also the liberty of the republic. L'austère prédicateur partit aussitôt, tête et pieds nus, espérant sauver non seulement l'âme du mourant, mais aussi la liberté de la république. Суровый проповедник тотчас же выступил с непокрытой головой и босиком, надеясь спасти не только душу умирающего, но и свободу республики.

Lorenzo, as we have said, was awaiting the arrival of Savonarola with an impatience mixed with uneasiness; so that, when he heard the sound of his steps, his pale face took a yet more deathlike tinge, while at the same time he raised himself on his elbow and ordered his three friends to go away. They obeyed at once, and scarcely had they left by one door than the curtain of the other was raised, and the monk, pale, immovable, solemn, appeared on the threshold. Ils obéirent aussitôt, et à peine furent-ils sortis par une porte que le rideau de l'autre se leva, et le moine, pâle, immobile, solennel, parut sur le seuil. When he perceived him, Lorenzo dei Medici, reading in his marble brow the inflexibility of a statue, fell back on his bed, breathing a sigh so profound that one might have supposed it was his last. Lorsqu'il l'aperçut, Laurent de Médicis, lisant dans son front de marbre l'inflexibilité d'une statue, se laissa retomber sur son lit en poussant un soupir si profond qu'on eût dit que c'était le dernier. Увидев его, Лоренцо деи Медичи, прочитав в его мраморном лбу непоколебимость статуи, упал на свою кровать, вздохнув так глубоко, что можно было подумать, что это был его последний вздох.

The monk glanced round the room as though to assure himself that he was really alone with the dying man; then he advanced with a slow and solemn step towards the bed. Lorenzo watched his approach with terror; then, when he was close beside him, he cried:

"O my father, I have been a very great sinner!" "The mercy of God is infinite," replied the monk; "and I come into your presence laden with the divine mercy." « La miséricorde de Dieu est infinie, répondit le moine ; "et je viens en ta présence chargé de la miséricorde divine." "Милость Божия бесконечна," ответил монах; «И я предстаю перед вами, обремененный божественной милостью». "You believe, then, that God will forgive my sins?" cried the dying man, renewing his hope as he heard from the lips of the monk such unexpected words.

"Your sins and also your crimes, God will forgive them all," replied Savonarola. "God will forgive your vanities, your adulterous pleasures, your obscene festivals; so much for your sins. God will forgive you for promising two thousand florins reward to the man who should bring you the head of Dietisalvi, Nerone Nigi, Angelo Antinori, Niccalo Soderini, and twice the money if they were handed over alive; God will forgive you for dooming to the scaffold or the gibbet the son of Papi Orlandi, Francesco di Brisighella, Bernardo Nardi, Jacopo Frescobaldi, Amoretto Baldovinetti, Pietro Balducci, Bernardo di Banding, Francesco Frescobaldi, and more than three hundred others whose names were none the less dear to Florence because they were less renowned; so much for your crimes." Dieu vous pardonnera d'avoir promis une récompense de deux mille florins à celui qui vous apporterait la tête de Dietisalvi, Nerone Nigi, Angelo Antinori, Niccalo Soderini, et le double s'ils étaient livrés vivants ; Dieu vous pardonnera d'avoir condamné à l'échafaud ou au gibet le fils de Papi Orlandi, Francesco di Brisighella, Bernardo Nardi, Jacopo Frescobaldi, Amoretto Baldovinetti, Pietro Balducci, Bernardo di Banding, Francesco Frescobaldi, et plus de trois cents autres dont les noms étaient pourtant chères à Florence parce qu'elles étaient moins renommées ; tant pis pour vos crimes." Бог простит вас за то, что вы обещали награду в две тысячи флоринов человеку, который принесет вам головы Диетисальви, Нероне Ниджи, Анджело Антинори, Никкало Содерини, и вдвое больше денег, если они будут переданы живыми; Бог простит вам обречение на эшафот или виселицу сына Папи Орланди, Франческо ди Бризигеллы, Бернардо Нарди, Якопо Фрескобальди, Аморетто Бальдовинетти, Пьетро Бальдуччи, Бернардо ди Бандинга, Франческо Фрескобальди и еще более трехсот других, чьи имена были тем не менее дороги Флоренции, потому что они были менее известны; так много для ваших преступлений ". And at each of these names which Savonarola pronounced slowly, his eyes fixed on the dying man, he replied with a groan which proved the monk's memory to be only too true. И на каждое из этих имен, которые Савонарола произносил медленно, не сводя глаз с умирающего, он отвечал стоном, который доказывал, что память монаха слишком верна. Then at last, when he had finished, Lorenzo asked in a doubtful tone:

"Then do you believe, my father, that God will forgive me everything, both my sins and my crimes?" "Everything," said Savonarola, "but on three conditions." "What are they?" asked the dying man.

"The first," said Savonarola, "is that you feel a complete faith in the power and the mercy of God." «Первое, — сказал Савонарола, — это то, что вы чувствуете полную веру в силу и милость Бога». "My father," replied Lorenzo eagerly, "I feel this faith in the very depths of my heart." "The second," said Savonarola, "is that you give back the property of others which you have unjustly confiscated and kept." "My father, shall I have time?" asked the dying man.

"God will give it to you," replied the monk. Lorenzo shut his eyes, as though to reflect more at his ease; then, after a moment's silence, he replied: "Yes, my father, I will do it." "The third," resumed Savonarola, "is that you restore to the republic her ancient independence and her former liberty." -- Третье, -- продолжал Савонарола, -- состоит в том, чтобы вы вернули республике ее древнюю независимость и ее прежнюю свободу. Lorenzo sat up on his bed, shaken by a convulsive movement, and questioned with his eyes the eyes of the Dominican, as though he would find out if he had deceived himself and not heard aright. Lorenzo s'assit sur son lit, secoué d'un mouvement convulsif, et interrogea du regard les yeux du dominicain, comme s'il allait découvrir s'il s'était trompé et n'avait pas bien entendu. Savonarola repeated the same words.

"Never! never!" exclaimed Lorenzo, falling back on his bed and shaking his head,—"never!" The monk, without replying a single word, made a step to withdraw.

"My father, my father," said the dying man, "do not leave me thus: have pity on me!" "Have pity on Florence," said the monk. "But, my father," cried Lorenzo, "Florence is free, Florence is happy." "Florence is a slave, Florence is poor," cried Savonarola, "poor in genius, poor in money, and poor in courage; poor in genius, because after you, Lorenzo, will come your son Piero; poor in money, because from the funds of the republic you have kept up the magnificence of your family and the credit of your business houses; poor in courage, because you have robbed the rightful magistrates of the authority which was constitutionally theirs, and diverted the citizens from the double path of military and civil life, wherein, before they were enervated by your luxuries, they had displayed the virtues of the ancients; and therefore, when the day shall dawn which is not far distant," continued the monk, his eyes fixed and glowing as if he were reading in the future, "whereon the barbarians shall descend from the mountains, the walls of our towns, like those of Jericho, shall fall at the blast of their trumpets." "And do you desire that I should yield up on my deathbed the power that has made the glory of my whole life?" cried Lorenzo dei Medici.

"It is not I who desire it; it is the Lord," replied Savonarola coldly. "Impossible, impossible!" murmured Lorenzo.

"Very well; then die as you have lived!" cried the monk, "in the midst of your courtiers and flatterers; let them ruin your soul as they have ruined your body!" And at these words, the austere Dominican, without listening to the cries of the dying man, left the room as he had entered it, with face and step unaltered; far above human things he seemed to soar, a spirit already detached from the earth. И при этих словах строгий доминиканец, не слушая криков умирающего, вышел из комнаты, как и вошел, с неизменным лицом и походкой; Он, казалось, парил высоко над человеческими вещами, дух, уже отделившийся от земли.

At the cry which broke from Lorenzo dei Medici when he saw him disappear, Ermolao, Poliziano, and Pico delta Mirandola, who had heard all, returned into the room, and found their friend convulsively clutching in his arms a magnificent crucifix which he had just taken down from the bed-head. In vain did they try to reassure him with friendly words. Lorenzo the Magnificent only replied with sobs; and one hour after the scene which we have just related, his lips clinging to the feet of the Christ, he breathed his last in the arms of these three men, of whom the most fortunate—though all three were young—was not destined to survive him more than two years. Laurent le Magnifique ne répondit que par des sanglots ; et une heure après la scène que nous venons de raconter, les lèvres collées aux pieds du Christ, il expira dans les bras de ces trois hommes, dont le plus fortuné, quoique jeune tous les trois, n'était pas destiné à lui survivent plus de deux ans. Лоренцо Великолепный отвечал только рыданиями; и через час после сцены, о которой мы только что рассказали, он, прильнув губами к ногам Христа, испустил последний вздох в объятиях этих трех мужчин, из которых самому удачливому — хотя все трое были молоды — не суждено было пережить его более чем на два года. "Since his death was to bring about many calamities," says Niccolo Macchiavelli, "it was the will of Heaven to show this by omens only too certain: the dome of the church of Santa Regarata was struck by lightning, and Roderigo Borgia was elected pope." "Puisque sa mort devait amener bien des calamités", dit Niccolo Macchiavelli, "c'était la volonté du Ciel de le montrer par des présages trop certains : le dôme de l'église de Santa Regarata fut foudroyé, et Roderigo Borgia fut élu le pape." «Поскольку его смерть должна была принести много бедствий, — говорит Никколо Маккиавелли, — воля Небес была показать это с помощью весьма верных предзнаменований: купол церкви Санта-Регарата был поражен молнией, и Родриго Борджиа был избран Папа."