The Palace Read Online Free PDF Page A

them myself and have found that the colors they
produce are of rare luminosity. Try them, I urge you.
    I had your letter of March 27 in good time. If you are as much distressed by
the Sforzas as you say, then why do you remain? You know that Laurenzo would
welcome your return, and surely there is work for you to do in Fiorenza that
will interest you as much as your work in Milano. Consider, then, caro amico,
for you are much missed here. Even that sharp-tongued Poliziano speaks of you
affectionately.
    You will perhaps be saddened to learn that Laurenzo has not been well. As has
been his practice in the past, he has taken the waters and he insists that he is
better. But I am worried. His hands often swell and he is sometimes weak without
reason. Often of late, his kinswoman Donna Demetrice Volandrai reads to him,
sometimes the works of Plato, sometimes new tales. It has become his habit to
spend his evenings thus. Yet his mind is keen, and he is, as always, seeking out
gifted artists. That young student of Ghirlandajo is part of the Medici
household now, and for all your loathing of marble sculpture, you would admit
that young Buonarroti has talent. Laurenzo is pleased with his progress, which,
considering his youth, is remarkable. I think that Magnifico would prefer it if
his own sons showed the promise of Michelangelo Buonarroti. Giovanni is for the
Church, of course, and his mind is as tenacious as it is agile. But Piero is
another matter. Piero has done little but indulge himself since he was old
enough to ask his father for favors. He has not changed since you knew him—he is
as capricious as a child, forever making demands.
    Yet all is not bleak here. There was a great festival on Ascension Day, and
all Fiorenza went into the fields to catch grasshoppers and to sport. There was
a special Requiem Mass that day, at San Lorenzo, in memory of Giuliano. That
deed will forever be a stain on the house of Pazzi, who would appear to be
well-named, so insane was that act.
    We have heard that you are still in the habit of buying birds in the market
and setting them free. A friend of that alchemist I already mentioned has
recently come from Venezia, and made a stop in Milano while the city was still
talking about your most recent escapade. Leonardo, amico, you will not save the
birds. They will only be caught again and someone else will eat them. How is it
that you can invent such terrible weapons of war, and think nothing of examining
the bodies of the dead most thoroughly, but balk at eating songbirds?
    In reference to your love of machines, you would be delighted at the new
palazzo that Ragoczy, the alchemist, is building. It is in the Genovese style,
and he has added every innovation imaginable. The builders all gossip about it.
He has modified his bath, and made a special chamber for storing and heating
water, instead of making a holocaust. The chamber is about the size of two
traveling chests, and adjoins the bath closely. It is tarred and lacquered so
that it cannot leak, and the water is fed to the bath through a pipe with a
spigot. He has also invented a new sort of oven for his cooks, one made of
metal, which he claims is more efficient (though why he should want cooks when
he never dines, I cannot conceive). Many of the cooks in the city have said they
would have nothing to do with such an instrument. I understand that he has a
very simple, hard bed, but that everything else is wholly magnificent. If you do
not want Laurenzo for a patron, then consider Ragoczy. He has a great deal of
wealth and loves beautiful things almost as much as the Medicis. When I told him
of your silver lute, the one you fashioned in the shape of a horse's head, he
was delighted. You need not fear his generosity—he is quite wealthy and
completely honorable. I have myself seen some of his jewels, and their size and
beauty would stagger even you. At Christmas he presented Laurenzo with an
emerald as