The Secret Supper Read Online Free PDF Page A

eyes the reactions of his disciples to the revelation he had just made to them. Close by his side was John, the beloved, listening to Peter’s urgent whisper. If one sharpened one’s senses, one could almost see them move their lips, they looked so real.
    But John was no longer leaning on Jesus’ bosom, as the Gospel said. Indeed, he gave the impression of never having done so. On the other side of Christ, Philip, the giant, was standing with his hands digging into his chest. He seemed to be asking the Messiah: “Am I the traitor, Lord?” Or James the Elder, puffing up his chest like a bodyguard, swearing everlasting loyalty. “None will harm you while I am near,” he seemed to boast.
    “Well then, Marco. You have not yet answered me.”
    “I don’t know, Master…” He hesitated. “This work of yours has something that bewilders me. It is so, so—”
    “So?”
    “So close, so human, that it leaves me speechless.”
    “Good!” Leonardo applauded, then dried his hands on his apron. “You see? Without knowing, you are already closer to my secret.”
    “I don’t understand you, Master.”
    “And perhaps you never will.” He smiled. “But listen to what I’m about to tell you: everything in Nature holds a mystery of some kind. The birds hide from us the clues to their flight, the water has locked away the cause of its extraordinary strength. And if we ever succeeded to make painting a mirror of that nature, would it not be right to have it embody that same vast capability of guarding information? Every time you admire a painting, remember that you are entering the most sublime of all arts. Never remain on the surface: enter the scene, move among its elements, uncover its unknown details, prowl its recesses—and in that way you’ll grasp its true meaning. But let me warn you: you need courage for the task. Many times, what we find in a mural like this one is far removed from what we expected to find. Bear that in mind.”

6
    Without delay, Brother Giovanni fulfilled the second part of the mission entrusted to him by the Master General.
    After our conversation, having shown me the Soothsayer’s latest letter, he returned to the Order’s Mother House, leaving Bethany before sunset. Torriani had ordered him to return and apprise him of my reaction. In particular, he wanted to know my opinion regarding the rumors about the serious irregularities in the renovation of Santa Maria delle Grazie. My assistant must have given him my message, which was brief and clear: if my old fears were finally taken into account, and if, in addition, the revelations of the Soothsayer were to be considered credible, then he had to be found in Milan, and he had to tell us, from his own lips, the extent of the duke’s secret plans for the monastery.
    “In particular,” I had insisted to Giovanni, “the work of Leonardo da Vinci must be examined closely. Already in Bethany, we were well aware of his fondness for hiding heterodox ideas in paintings apparently pious. Leonardo worked in Florence for many years and was acquainted with the descendants of Cosimo the Elder. Among all the artists working at Santa Maria, he is the one most likely to share the ideas of Ludovico il Moro.”
    Giovanni added my one other serious concern to his report to Master Torriani: I had insisted on the need to open an investigation on the death of Donna Beatrice. The Soothsayer’s exact forecast suggested the existence of a sinister occult plan, conjured up by Duke Ludovico or by one of his wicked advisors, in order to install a pagan republic in the very heart of Italy. Even though it made little sense for the duke to order the assassination of his wife and one of his future heirs, the mind of those steeped in the occult sciences often follow unpredictable paths. It was not the first time that I’d heard of the need to sacrifice a noteworthy victim before a great undertaking. The ancients, barbarians of the Golden Age, did so often.
    I believe