Paul Strathern: Medici. Medici. Godfathers of the Renaissance

Neo-Confucianism and the problem of the Chinese Renaissance The philosophy of Neo-Confucianism, having replaced previous religions, soon itself became a new religion, embodying many features characteristic of the Middle Ages. This raises the question of how to interpret the role

The Queen Mother of the Renaissance, the Valois were not only patrons of poets, but were also creative artists themselves. For example, Charles IX, the patron of Ronsard, was a talented poet. However, the most significant place in the history of French literature among representatives of the clan is occupied by

PROLOGUE. THE SUN IS AT THE ZENITH

Looking at the group portrait of the Medici family, you experience, in some part, a feeling of admiration and respect, and in everything else - shock and horror. In order to adore and respect, one must appreciate their generosity, good deeds, policies, and scientific institutions they created. And to feel the shock and horror, it is enough to listen to the deafening growl emanating from the depths of their private lives.

John Boyle, Earl of Cork and Orrery, friend of the poet Alexander Pope and one of the first British residents of Florence (1755)

Florence, Sunday April 26, 1478, bells can be heard ringing from the towers hanging over the roofs of the houses. Lorenzo the Magnificent, surrounded by intimates, heads through a festively dressed crowd of townspeople to the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore.

Twenty-nine-year-old Lorenzo is the head of the Medici family, which, together with its allies, relying on a powerful political machine and observing the external forms of republican democracy, reigns supreme in Florence. Here, in the most developed of Italian cities, with all its wealth and extravagance, the medieval God-fearing world is gradually giving way to a new, self-confident humanism. The Medici Bank had already become the most successful and respected financial institution in Europe, with branches and representatives in major commercial centers, from London to Venice. Even the recent loss of a very profitable papal order to the Florentine rivals of the Medici, the Pazzi family, was no worse than a mosquito bite; income from the Medici bank turned Florence into one of the architectural and generally cultural wonders of Europe, giving the family the opportunity to invite such artists as Donatello, Botticelli and Leonardo da Vinci to work. But even among geniuses of this caliber, it is Lorenzo who embodies the very spirit of the new humanism - the humanism of the Renaissance. It’s not for nothing that everyone calls him Il magnifico - Magnificent; he is a Florentine prince in all but name, and his followers covet him as godfather to their first-born male children. Lorenzo himself views his power as a celebration: people are given festivals and carnivals. By commissioning works of art, Lorenzo demonstrates obvious aesthetic taste; he understands the artists he attracts to the court, encourages them to achieve excellence, developing precisely their best qualities - and they pay him respect as an equal in matters of art. He himself is an accomplished musician, athlete and fencer; he is well advanced in philosophy and will soon gain a reputation as one of the best Italian poets of his time; with all this, however, Lorenzo is proud that he is a man of the people: he dresses much more modestly than most Florentine nobles. And Lorenzo’s appearance, if we leave aside a certain aura surrounding him that hints at inner strength, is rather nondescript. The most famous of his portraits - a bust of colored terracotta by Verrocchio - depicts a surprisingly gloomy figure with rough facial features: an elongated nose, like all Medici, a prominent lower jaw, heavy-lidded eyes, large, but for some reason completely insensitive mouth with thin lips. It is not easy to discern an exceptional personality behind these frozen features, although, undoubtedly, animated by his inner strength, they radiate that magnetism that made him so attractive in the eyes of women and at the same time not only did not leave him indifferent, but aroused the admiration of philosophers, artists, even ordinary people .

To the sound of bells, Lorenzo and his retinue reach the end of Via Larga and head towards the cathedral square. Directly in front of them floats towards the sky the dome created by the genius of Brunelleschi - perhaps the most outstanding architectural structure of the early European Renaissance, second only to the Roman Pantheon, which was built a thousand years earlier: only now is Europe beginning to approach the greatness of its own past. Lorenzo and his friends enter the cool, gloomy arches of the cathedral.

On Via Larga, behind Lorenzo, limping - he is tormented by an attack of sciatica - the younger Medici, Giuliano, hurries. He is accompanied by Francesco de' Pazzi and the latter's friend Bernardo Bandini; at one point, Francesco puts his arm around Giuliano's shoulders in a friendly manner, helping him cope with his limp and assuring him that there is no hurry. He cheerfully nudges Giuliano in the side, making sure that there is no chain mail under his fluffy camisole. Once in the cathedral, Giuliano sees that his brother has already approached the main throne. Lorenzo is surrounded by friends and two priests, one of whom Giuliano recognizes as the home teacher of the Pazzi family. The service begins and Giuliano de' Medici decides to stay at the door with Francesco de' Pazzi, Bernardo Bandini and others. The sounds of choral singing soar into the heights, filling the entire space of the cathedral under a powerful dome; then the choir falls silent and the officiating priest prepares to begin the ceremony of the solemn mass. The sacristy bells ring, drowning out the whispering of freely behaving parishioners; but now their voices subside, and the priest raises the host before the main altar.

In the summer of 1605, five years after Marie de' Medici left Florence for France to join her husband King Henry IV, Grand Duke Ferdinando I hired his son Cosimo a temporary home teacher. Fifteen-year-old Cosimo was a lively and sociable teenager, but, alas, extremely lazy. He was by no means deprived of intelligence, but he preferred entertainment to studies. The teacher that Ferdinando liked very much was a forty-year-old professor of mathematics at the University of Padua, his name was Galileo Galilei, and he was to become the first great scientist of the modern era.

The Galileans were citizens of Florence, originating from the same place as the Medici - from Mugello, a mountain valley located north of the city. Galileo himself was born in Pisa on February 15, 1564, three days before the death of eighty-nine-year-old Michelangelo, the last hero of the High Renaissance. This coincidence is significant: the banner of the Renaissance moves from art to science. Galileo Vincenzo's father, who had a great influence on his son, was himself an extraordinary man. He came from a noble but impoverished family, had a modest fortune and a warlike character, which promised to maintain this position. At the same time, this man was a gifted musician, playing the lute and writing compositions that unmistakably revealed his mathematical abilities.

Upon his return from Pisa to Florence in 1572, Vincenzo became the court musician of the Grand Duke. In addition, he renewed ties with the Camerata Bardi, a circle of gifted performers and music theorists who were patronized by this old family of bankers. Vincenzo had his own musical ideas, for example, he fiercely rebelled against the tenets of counterpoint, so revered in medieval music; in contrast, he argued that the melody should caress the ear and it does not matter whether it corresponds to the formal mathematical beauty of the musical notation. The freer composition advocated by Vincenzo and his Florentine associates of the time anticipated the Renaissance in music.

The main thing is that Florentine musicians laid the foundation for the art of opera, which grew from two very specific sources. One is medieval liturgical drama: biblical stories played out in public and timed to coincide with various holidays of the church calendar. The other is the classical dramaturgy of Ancient Greece, revived on the theatrical stage by Florentine humanists. The union of these two began and gave birth to opera - a work of secular content that combines music and drama. The word itself comes from the Italian expression opera in musica (musical work), and the plots and settings of early operas were usually based on legend or myth, which required a freer musical form, such as that advocated by Vincenzo Galilei.

The first opera is usually considered “Daphne” - a drama by the Florentine poet Ottavio Rinuccino, set to music by the singer and composer Jacopo Peri, who then served at the Medici court. The premiere took place at a festival in Florence, on the eve of Lent in 1598. The libretto and score are mostly lost, but it is worth noting that the oldest surviving opera, a musical version of the same Rinuccino's play Euridice, was performed at the Pitti Palazzo in 1600. Thus, the Medici, as it turns out, were also the godfathers of Renaissance music.

At the turn of the 17th century, the Renaissance began to reveal itself in the widest range of human activities. Times changed, even literally: when it was noticed that the seasons did not coincide with the ancient calendar, Pope Gregory XIII abandoned the Julian calendar, introduced under Caesar, in 46 BC, and in 1582 replaced it with the Gregorian calendar, displacing dates for ten days at once. True, many did not like this innovation extremely, and, as the Gregorian calendar covered the whole of Europe, spontaneous riots broke out more and more often when an angry crowd demanded the return of the stolen ten days of life. After many centuries of medieval stagnation and sufficient certainty in various areas of life, change was perceived by many as a threat and was not universally greeted with a warm welcome.

In his youth, the red-haired Galileo Galilei was a temperamental rebel who inherited many of his father's characteristics; the difference is that he early believed in his own talents, although it was difficult to say in what specific area they might manifest themselves. At the age of seventeen, he returned to the city where he was born to continue his education at the University of Pisa, but soon became bored: here they crammed medieval scholasticism, which had to be repeated word for word in exams. There was no room left for the play of imagination, independence of thought, or new ideas - even though the Renaissance radically changed painting and architecture, even if these changes affected other areas, but the emasculated provisions of Aristotelian natural philosophy still dominated in universities.

It was not Galileo’s style to patiently listen to nonsense; he did not even try to hide his contempt for his teachers, interrupting their lectures with tricky questions that should bring the professors to light. Why, for example, do hailstones fall to the ground at the same speed, regardless of their size, while Aristotle claims that heavy bodies fall faster than light ones? The lecturer explains that most likely small hailstones fall from lower layers of clouds, so that they only seem to have the same speed. Galileo ridiculed such reasons, which clearly did not gain him any friends. Soon it became clear to everyone, including his fellow students, that he was just having fun. Not finding anything else to occupy his mind and satisfy his curiosity, Galileo began to look for incentives in other places - for example, in taverns and brothels.

Fortunately, sleepy, provincial Pisa came to life when, according to a tradition established by Cosimo I, who tried to shorten the distances between the cities of Tuscany and unite the grand duchy into something whole, between Christmas and Easter the Grand Duke of Tuscany moved here along with the entire court. For a short time, Pisa became the public living room of the whole country, numerous entertainments were held here, from concerts to races and lectures on a variety of topics. Once Galileo found himself at a lecture given to a narrow circle by the court mathematician (a new position introduced by the admirer of science Cosimo I) Ostilion Ricci. What he heard literally captivated Galileo; He had long been interested in speculative calculus, but the university authorities believed that students did not need mathematics and excluded it from the curriculum. A few years before Galileo appeared in Pisa, the professor of mathematics died, and his position remained vacant throughout Galileo's university years.

He soon took up mathematics under the guidance of Ricci, who introduced him to the great Greeks Euclid and Archimedes, their theorems, proof systems, and arguments. After Ricci and his entire court returned to Florence, Galileo continued to study in Pisa on his own.

Much to his father's displeasure, he returned to Florence in 1585 without a degree or any prospect of employment. In the end, Vincenzo managed to press some springs at the court of the Grand Duke, and Galileo was able to lecture from time to time at the Florentine Academy. Four years later he was given the position of professor of mathematics at his old university - an appointment, of course, strange for a man of his reputation, but in this case, perhaps, medieval condescension turned out in his favor. Another factor could be the salary - only 60 florins a year, less than the income of a shopkeeper. When this was discovered, Galileo was furious, but he had no choice, every penny counted. The aged father could no longer work, and Galileo had to support the whole family; To earn money, he took students in Pisa, but still had time to do research.

He conducted them in his own special manner. According to the famous legend, Galileo once climbed the tilting Leaning Tower of Pisa and dropped two objects of different weights from there, thus demonstrating to the assembled students and professors that they were falling at the same speed, which contradicts the Aristotelian ideas, according to which heavier bodies fall faster than the lungs. Whether such an episode actually took place or not (many believe it is a fantasy), it best shows how Galileo's methodology differs from that of Aristotle's followers. Galileo conducted an experiment to discover the truth, and the latter believed that they were right, because it says so in the writings of Aristotle. Of course, if two bodies of different weights were actually dropped from the same height, they would hit the ground at different times. This is due to different air resistance; Aristotle's supporters argued that this discrepancy proved them right, which forced Galileo to put forward the thesis according to which these two objects would actually fall at the same speed in a vacuum (almost 400 years had to pass for this version to find expressive confirmation in front of the eyes of many millions of people). audience while walking on the surface of the Moon in 1969, Neil Armstrong dropped his hammer and pen; both reached the surface at the same time, and Armstrong remarked, “Well, Galileo was right.”

Based on his experiments, Galileo derived some laws of motion, for example: “When falling, the speed of a body when it lands is proportional to the time of fall.” This conclusion was made possible by the revolutionary step he took: he applied a system of calculus to physics, which ultimately led him to introduce the fundamental concept of “force.”

This was the genius of Galileo's insight - he used the methods of mathematics in physics. It seems self-evident now, but in those days physics and mathematics were two separate and autonomous fields of knowledge. And at the moment when they came together - giving impetus to the emergence of such concepts as measurable force - modern physics appeared. Objects can be weighed, distances can be measured, time can be recorded - all in precise numbers - and this application of mathematical analysis to physical phenomena marked the emergence of the very concept of “experiment”. Everything we are talking about can be established and measured only in practice. This was the beginning of experimental science. Concrete experience can be expressed in abstract conceptual terms, the results recorded, then compared with other results obtained and recorded under similar conditions - and thus formulate general laws. Cimento is the word Galileo used to describe this kind of experiment, and translated from Italian it means “test”; in fact, the “experiment” so familiar to us is a translation from Old French, in which it means “to put to the test.” Galileo's intuition and practical experiments laid the foundations of modern science. It was he who said: “The Book of Nature is written in the language of mathematics. The characters in this book are triangles, cubes and other geometric shapes, without whose help... we wander aimlessly through a dark labyrinth.”

Insights of this kind arose already in antiquity. “The world was created from numbers,” said Pythagoras. But he did not know how this was done in practice. Galileo became a pioneer in this sense, which made it possible to look at the picture of the world in a completely different way. The Renaissance of ancient philosophy and art gave rise to trust in the individual personality and humanistic teaching. The Renaissance of ancient science demonstrated how this teaching could be put into practice. Renaissance humanism allowed us to look at man differently; Renaissance science had to develop a new view of the world.

In a short time, Galileo became a popular figure in Pisa. The students idolized their young, cocky lecturer who disregarded authority. The same cannot be said about the university authorities, however. Most of the teachers at the University of Pisa were brother monks, and in Galileo's opinion, which he did not hide from anyone, the ideas of his fellow monks were as shallow as they were orthodox. His academic dress also caused him contemptuous ridicule; he even composed a poem on this topic:

Only a bore and a fool

Wears the right jacket.

This is only the law in school,

If you don't listen, get out.

But in a brothel everything is different...

Naturally, the authorities soon ran out of patience, and in 1592 Galileo was asked to look for some other place. By a fortunate coincidence, at that time the position of professor of mathematics at the prestigious University of Padua turned out to be vacant, to which Galileo offered his services. At this time, his work had already become known in the scientific world, leading Italian scientists spoke highly of him, and Grand Duke Ferdinando I called him “one of the best mathematicians in Tuscany.” Fully armed - with such and such recommendations - Galileo received the desired position.

In Padua, this large city of the Venetian Republic, he lived well, his salary was 500 florins a year. With his usual disdain for convention, Galileo settled down with a fiery young mistress, Marina Gambia, who bore him three children. Likewise, his research also soon yielded non-standard results. It was at that time that Galileo began to correspond with the German mathematician Johannes Kepler, who lived in Prague. Galileo admitted to Kepler that he shared the theory of Copernicus, but was afraid to say it out loud for fear of becoming a laughing stock in the eyes of his Paduan colleagues, who almost all adhered to the views of Aristotle. However, at that time Kepler himself, although Galileo did not yet realize this, both confirmed and developed the heliocentric concept of Copernicus. Using the most accurate measuring instruments available at that time - the telescope had not yet been invented - Kepler gradually came to the conclusion that the planets revolve around the Sun in an elliptical, and not a circular orbit, as Copernicus believed.

In 1604, Galileo discovered a new star in the sky; it was a so-called nova (a body formed as a result of a nuclear explosion) - only the second of its kind after the one that appeared in 134 BC. This phenomenon horrified the orthodox, because, according to the teachings of Aristotle, there cannot be new stars, just as old ones cannot disappear. Aristotle taught that the earth consists of four elements (earth, air, fire and water), while the heavens are separated from the earth and represent the “quintessence”, the fifth element is perfect and unchanging. Objects such as comets, which seem to contradict this view, are simply swept aside as bodies that do not belong to the sky; they exist in the sublunar space, closest to the earth, and therefore are not stars, but simply some kind of meteorological phenomenon.

A man who takes nothing for granted and is always ready to argue, Galileo gave a series of lectures about nova, pointing out that its appearance refutes the Aristotelian concept of the starry sky. At the same time, he began a public controversy with Cesare Cremonini, professor of philosophy at the University of Padua. The latter adhered to the traditional Aristotelian views that the laws of physics, as well as any measurements, are applicable only on earth, but have nothing to do with the heavens with their stars and planets: the quintessence is not subject to change and is not subject to the laws applicable to earth, air, fire and water . But if you do measure the starry sky, then the results only seem to contradict Aristotle’s laws, but in fact this is not the case, for the simple reason that they do not apply there. Galileo was greatly embarrassed by the fact that he could not refute such an argument in his usual way - with the help of experiment. He didn't know then that Kepler was doing just that - he was calculating the elliptical orbits of the planets, thus demonstrating that mathematics was also applicable to the starry sky.

The vain Galileo began to be consumed by impatience. He had already turned forty, but fame and success still did not come. Even Cremonini’s salary was twice as much as his, and as for the name, it was made for themselves by people who do not have half of his abilities. Galileo kept coming up with something new, including agricultural implements, military machines, medical instruments - in vain, there was no success. He did all the work, and others did the harvesting. Meanwhile, the need for money grew every day: it was necessary to support his mistress and three children, not to mention the family left in Florence. I had to go into debt.

Grasping at the last straw, Galileo wrote a letter to the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Ferdinando I, asking him to find him some position at court. The letter came at a good moment - the Duke just needed a teacher for the summer for his fifteen-year-old son and heir Cosimo. Galileo received this place and settled with his ward at the Villa Medici in Pratolino, a mountain village near Florence. Here he spent several glorious months, enjoying luxury and idleness and at the same time delighting his student with scientific experiments and bright ideas. But the summer ended, and they had to return to Padua with its creditors.

In 1609, Galileo again found himself in the service of the Medici family, only this time he was needed by the wife of Ferdinando I, Grand Duchess Christina. Unfortunately, for some reason she decided that Galileo was not a famous astronomer, but a famous astrologer, and asked him to draw up her husband’s horoscope. Ferdinando I was very ill, and it was necessary to know whether he would get back on his feet, and if so, how long he would live. Galileo valued the family's goodwill and immediately set to work. The horoscope turned out to be unusually optimistic: the “stargazer” assured the Grand Duchess that the stars were aligned in the best way, Ferdinando I would soon recover and live for many more years. Alas! - a week later the Grand Duke passed away, and the prospects for Galileo’s further service with the Medici became very vague.

Upon returning to Padua, he learned that a telescope had been invented in Holland. Without even seeing it, Galileo quickly understood the principle of operation of the two-lens camera and in just a few days he made his own model, ten times the power of the previous one. He presented his “discovery” to the Doge of Venice - a smart political move. How important the telescope was for a maritime power like Venice soon became clear to everyone: it became possible to spot hostile ships on the distant horizon, thus gaining several valuable hours for preparing defenses. As a token of gratitude, the Doge granted Galileo a lifetime contract at the university, although hopes of an increase in salary did not materialize, and he was still enmeshed in debt.

Galileo quickly figured out how to further increase the power of the telescope, and the last of the copies he created gave thirty-two times the magnification compared to the first. But more importantly, he immediately understood the benefits of this magnifying instrument when looking through its glass at the starry sky. In any case, it amazed him - a completely new universe opened up to him. Columbus probably experienced the same feeling when he discovered an unexpected continent. In a short time, Galileo made several sensational discoveries.

By and large, over the last approximately three and a half millennia, humanity has not learned anything new about the starry sky; the possibilities of observation with the naked eye were exhausted by the Babylonians, who observed the structure of the constellations from their ziggurats. Everything changed the moment Galileo leaned on the telescope and focused it on the lunar surface. Previously, the Moon seemed to be just a luminous disk, now increasing and then decreasing. Now a large mysterious spherical body appeared to the eye, no longer waxing and waning in size, but divided into light and shadow. Upon closer inspection, it also became clear that this sphere was covered with craters, mountains, and even what looked like seas. Galileo realized that the final blow had been dealt to Aristotelian astronomy: the celestial bodies are, of course, not perfect, quintessential spheres not subject to change, they are simply completely new worlds with their own properties and shortcomings - just like the world inhabited by people .

Galileo described his discoveries in the book “The Starry Messenger,” dedicated, not without intention, to his former student, and now the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Cosimo II. In Europe this work created a sensation. It turned out, in particular, that Jupiter has satellites. Galileo christened these new moons - in honor of the person to whom the book is dedicated - "Sidera Medici" ("Medici Stars"). Thus, the family gained immortality in heaven! From the point of view of science, the most important thing was the observations of the “phases of Venus”: the planet expanded and contracted exactly like the Moon, and the surface, when viewed from the earth, either glowed or went into shadow. This irrefutably indicated that, like the Earth, Venus revolves around the Sun; there are simply no other explanations for this phenomenon.

In addition, Galileo observed the Sun (using smoked glass to protect his eyes) and in the process of these observations discovered that there were dark spots on it, taking the form of clouds, which “seem to creep one upon another.” This is yet another proof that the starry sky is by no means timeless and unchangeable, as Aristotle claimed. It is not surprising that Galileo's conclusions provoked fierce resistance from Aristotle's followers and churchmen. Here is a typical response from one abbot from Bavaria, who wrote to the author: “I have read all the works of Aristotle and have not found in them anything similar to what you claim ... Your spots on the Sun are simply a defect in your instruments or vision.” The worst thing is that Galileo could not answer his critics - for the reason that they simply refused to acknowledge his point of view.

However, Galileo's reaction was no less characteristic: Aristotle's supporters, the church, creditors - they all formed an alliance against him. The bolder and more original his ideas became, the more paranoia haunted him. Responses to critics became increasingly intolerant and harsh, and Galileo made enemies everywhere.

But the appearance of the “Starry Messenger” also brought undoubted success: the nineteen-year-old Grand Duke Cosimo II was clearly flattered that his former mentor remembered him, and generously thanked Galileo, declaring him “the first philosopher and mathematician” of Tuscany; this position brought with it an impressive salary and luxurious working conditions at the Villa Bellosguardo, near Florence, ideally located for making astronomical observations. Galileo immediately left Padua, taking his children with him; Maria, apparently by mutual agreement, remained where she was. Galileo left her a certain amount for a dowry so that she could get married (this is what happened a year later).

This period marked the highest point in Galileo's life. It also marked the triumph of the Medici as the godfathers of the scientific Renaissance. Under their wing and with their support, Galileo was able to carry out his research unhindered, without paying attention to critics. The immediate consequence of this was the rapid spread and assimilation of his ideas throughout Europe. It was the study of Galileo's works that inspired the Dutch philosopher and mathematician Rene Descartes to write his epoch-making Discourse on Method, where a philosophical basis was provided for Galileo's discoveries.

Galileo compiled a whole program of experimental research, which was accompanied by far-reaching theoretical generalizations. Reasoning about the close connection between physics and mathematics led him to the idea of ​​distinguishing between two different properties of objects. On the one hand, these are physical properties that can be measured - length, weight, and so on, they belong to the objects themselves. On the other hand, there are properties that cannot be measured: smell, color, taste. These are no longer the properties of the objects themselves, but the impressions from observing them. This critical distinction would later be developed by the English thinker John Locke, forming the basis of empirical philosophy, the first truly scientific school of philosophy, postulating that truth is based on experience.

The teachings of Descartes and Locke breathed new life into philosophical thought, laying the foundation, as is commonly believed, of modern philosophy. Both teachings - rationalistic and empirical - owe to a large extent to the scientific discoveries of Galileo, and he, in turn, owes to the support and patronage of the Medici. These discoveries themselves marked a renaissance of the philosophical ideas of antiquity, which, however, in this case contributed to a revolution in the natural sciences rather than in philosophy. Based on his own experiments, Galileo began to think about the nature of matter, and this led to the revival of an idea first put forward by Democritus at the beginning of the 4th century BC. Democritus argued that matter ultimately consists of indivisible particles, which he called atoms (from the Greek atomos, which means “indivisible”, “uncut”). Over time, this idea will penetrate into physics and chemistry, displacing the Aristotelian doctrine of the four elements of matter.

And although many centuries would pass before atoms could be seen and counted, the idea itself became the basis of a revolution in science. Unlike a mixture of earth, air, fire and water, which are properties rather than numbers, atoms, as indivisible particles, can at least theoretically be counted. The new scientific revolution meant a transition from the world of qualities to the world of quantities, to the world where the methods of mathematics are applicable.

Reflecting on the essence of the new heliocentric theory, Galileo came to the conclusion that the inertial rotation of the planets around the Sun should be caused by certain magnetic forces that attract objects to each other. From his manuscripts it is clear that he stopped at the very threshold of the discovery of gravity as a universal law of the Universe. The application of the laws of physics to the phenomenon of planetary motion marked an epoch-making step. Kepler applied mathematical laws to the Universe, and now Galileo showed that physical laws are also universal. He formulated it bluntly: “Earthly laws apply to heaven.”

Gradually he approached dangerous territory, and the Vatican began to show increasing interest in Galileo's revolutionary ideas. But it was already impossible to stop him. In 1611, Galileo was invited to show his new telescope at the papal court, and his thoughts, surprisingly, made a very favorable impression. Encouraged by this, Galileo decided to fully explain the essence of his discoveries, demonstrating once and for all the truth of the heliocentric system. He wrote a treatise that describes spots on the Sun, rejects the idea that the center of the Universe is the Earth, and shows that science is capable of explaining phenomena. The treatise soon became famous in Europe and even became something of a textbook in universities.

Sensing the size of the threat, Aristotle's supporters, albeit belatedly, launched a crushing counterattack. They insisted that, developing the ideas of Copernicus, Galileo not only opposed the teachings of the church, but also directly contradicted the Bible. The Church decided that the time had come to act: Galileo’s ideas are an absolute heresy.

But even then he still had friends and allies in the circle of the highest hierarchs of the church. Popes and cardinals played their part in spreading Renaissance ideas, and many leading churchmen stood on the side of intellectual progress (it is significant that the magnificent new dome of St. Peter's Basilica, completed twenty years ago, the pride of the Catholic Church, was perceived as both a product of art and science). Among these latter was the influential Cardinal Maffeo Barberini. He let Galileo know that as long as he acted as a pure mathematician, nothing would threaten him. This advice sounded humorous, although involuntarily: the fact is that the church perceived mathematics in a purely Platonic spirit, as a purely ideal and abstract phenomenon, unrelated to the real world. Well, Galileo proceeded from directly opposite positions.

Turning back and looking at the conflict between church and science in a historical context, we must admit that it was both inevitable and, in an intellectual sense, completely unnecessary. It is rooted in the role that Christianity played in preserving Western civilization. During the Dark Ages that followed the collapse of the Roman Empire, ancient knowledge existed only in marginal Christian communities. With the advent of more stable times, in the Middle Ages, it became widespread in Europe, but remained the property of the monastery.

This led to the relative stagnation of the late Middle Ages, when the church still considered all philosophy, all knowledge, all enlightenment to be its property: knowledge and teaching of the church are one and the same. With the revival of intellectual energy facilitated by the advent of the Renaissance, the church found itself in a difficult position. Not wanting to give up the monopoly on knowledge, she decided that any breakthrough in it must be consistent with theological teaching, from which it paradoxically followed that the discoveries of science are acceptable to the church only if what is already known is revealed! Progressive thought was held back by the backward practices of intellectual institutions, and as the tension between these poles grew, it became increasingly clear that someone must inevitably give in. Galileo's trouble was that he found himself in the very center of this steadily developing process.

In 1616, the Church included the works of Copernicus in the Index of Prohibited Books, and Galileo was officially ordered to “refuse and not defend” such ideas or face trial by the Inquisition. This institution was established as part of the general movement of the Counter-Reformation, which now brutally suppresses any protest against the Catholic Church. The purpose of the Inquisition was to identify heresy, using torture if necessary; it was assumed that in this way any shoots of Protestantism in Catholic countries would be quickly uprooted.

Galileo sent desperate letters to Cardinal Barberini, the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and other influential friends. In a letter to the Dowager Grand Duchess Christina, he carefully said: “In my opinion, to ban Copernicus now is to ban the truth.” But these appeals had no response, and Galileo had to retire to Villa Bellosgvordo, where he remained under the protection of Grand Duke Cosimo II.

Seven years later, Galileo's friend Maffeo Barberini became Pope Urban VIII, and Galileo, filled with optimism, headed to Rome. The new pope listened to him more or less sympathetically and gave his permission to write the book “Dialogue on the Two Systems of the World.” In it, he could present both points of view on the structure of the Universe - the Copernican and the church, provided, however, that the reader would be clearly given to understand: the truth is on the side of the church. This is how the “Dialogue on the Two Systems of the World” was released, in which the views of Copernicus are put into the mouth of the witty intellectual Sagredo, and the church with its Aristotelian views is represented by a character named Simplicio - the Simpleton. Unfortunately, Galileo got carried away again, and the Simpleton turned out to be somehow too simple-minded. Even worse, it seemed to many readers that the pope himself was hiding behind this pseudonym. Urban VIII was furious, and then those close to him whispered that new ideas only served to undermine the entire movement of the Counter-Reformation. The Thirty Years' War continued in Europe with its bloody battles between Catholic and Protestant armies, and in this environment Galilean views seemed more dangerous than "Luther and Calvin combined."

Unfortunately for Galileo, his patron and former student, Grand Duke Cosimo I, died in 1621. Now defenseless, Galileo was summoned to Rome in 1633 and stood trial on charges of heresy. Just thirty years ago, here in Rome, the philosopher and natural scientist Giordano Bruno was tried and sentenced to be burned at the stake for the same thing. Feeling that a mortal threat was looming over him, the old (he was already sixty-eight years old) and sick Galileo headed to Rome, where, avoiding torture, he was forced to quickly capitulate. He was forced to solemnly renounce his “ungodly” views, although legend has it that at the last moment he nevertheless said in a low voice: “And yet she turns.”

Galileo was sentenced to life imprisonment, but, taking into account his age and state of health, he was allowed to return to Tuscany. Here, under the patronage of the new Grand Duke Ferdinando II, he served his house arrest at the small estate of Arcetri south of Florence. Four years later he began to go blind, but he felt better than he looked. The big name attracted prominent visitors from northern Europe. Thus, among his guests were the English philosopher Thomas Hobbes and the poet John Milton. Literally on the eve of complete blindness, Galileo observed through a telescope how, as it rotated around the Earth, the Moon oscillated on its axis. Somewhat later, he completed his classic work, Conversations and Mathematical Proofs of Two New Sciences, which is a complete exposition of his ideas. The manuscript was secretly delivered to Holland, printed there and began to circulate in the scientific world of Europe. Galileo died at the age of seventy-seven, on January 8, 1642, just a few months before Isaac Newton was born in England. And three and a half centuries later, the Vatican finally admitted that in the case of Galileo “a mistake was made.”

“Pardon” meant a major concession, for even after Galileo’s death the church was not at all inclined to forgive his “errors,” and Pope Urban was the most irreconcilable towards his former friend in this sense. Thus, he opposed the decision of the Grand Duke Ferdinando II to bury Galileo in Santa Croce, next to such great Florentines as Ghiberti, Machiavelli and Michelangelo. Only seventy-five years later he would be awarded this honor.

The Grand Duke showed a keen interest in Galileo's research, and after Ferdinando II came of age and ascended the throne in 1632, couriers kept appearing at the Palazzo Pitti, where the scientist lived, with the task of making a state-of-the-art telescope for His Highness. Ferdinando was especially proud of the “Medici Stars,” which he loved to show to his distinguished guests. In 1635, after the pope condemned the Dialogue Concerning the Two Systems of the World, Ferdinando made considerable efforts to ensure that the treatise was preserved and disseminated. It was he who encouraged his younger brother Matthias de' Medici to smuggle a copy of the manuscript to northern Europe, where it was translated into several languages ​​and quickly published. The work caught the eye of Thomas Hobbes, which he reported during a visit to the aging scientist who was under house arrest.

So why didn't Ferdinando II defend Galileo immediately after the initial publication of the Dialogue in 1632? And why didn’t he prevent the sick scientist from traveling to Rome, although his life was at stake? Ferdinando II succeeded his father, who died in 1621, at the age of ten, and throughout the years of his minority, Tuscany was ruled by the imperious and stern Dowager Grand Duchess Christina and her daughter-in-law, the wife of Cosimo II. When he turned seventeen, Ferdinando was sent on a grand tour of European capitals to further his education, but even after gaining full power in 1632, he continued to remain under the thumb of the Dowager Grand Duchess until her death in 1636. When Galileo was summoned to Rome in 1632, Pope Urban VIII advised Ferdinando II not to intervene, otherwise a major diplomatic scandal might arise. And this was not just a threat. Under the Dowager Grand Duchess, Tuscany came completely under the influence of the pope, and during these years a stream of priests literally poured into Florence. Many Florentine monasteries that were almost empty at one time were now filled to capacity. Under Christina, priests occupied large administrative posts, which was also prohibited by Grand Duke Cosimo I when building a new bureaucratic system.

Ferdinando II was a plump, good-natured young man with curly hair and a thin, downward-curling mustache. Even in an early portrait of Justus Sustermans, he, dressed in shiny armor, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword, appears as a somewhat absurd figure - a sort of half dandy, half warrior, but not like a warrior. But behind his languid manners and invariably friendly smile hid his will and extraordinary abilities. It might seem that Ferdinando treats the performance of his duties as a pleasant pastime, but it was under him that Tuscany managed to maintain good relations with Austria, and with France, and with Spain, and with the pope, despite all the conflict of interests of the latter.

In 1638, Ferdinando II married Vittoria della Rovere, clearly counting on the imminent appearance of a male heir - the Medici needed to continue the family line. But things didn't work out from the very beginning. A woman who is not only strict and domineering, but also large and well-built, Vittoria nevertheless had difficulty giving birth. The first-born died at birth, the same unfortunate fate befell the daughter, during whose birth she almost died. Fears arose that there would be no heir at all, especially since Ferdinando II seemed to prefer the company of pretty courtiers to his plump wife. Nevertheless, these sympathies did not prevent him from fulfilling his dynastic duty, and in 1642 the long-awaited male heir was born.

An influential force in Tuscany was the mother of Ferdinando II, Maddalena, who was in the shadow of the throne. She paid special attention to purity of morals, and this distribution of responsibilities suited the Grand Duke quite well. True, shortly after the birth of her grandson, named Cosimo at baptism, the Dowager Grand Duchess Maddalena appeared before her son with a long list of homosexuals occupying the highest administrative positions in the Grand Duchy, and called him to account: what measures are you going to take, Your Highness? Ferdinando II took the list, read it silently and added his name to it. Maddalena was not embarrassed by this, she only noticed that the Duke did this to save sinners from deserved punishment. What kind of punishment is this, asked Ferdinando II. Bonfire, the mother answered. Then Ferdinando II crumpled up a piece of paper, threw it into the fire and said: “Well, your command has already been fulfilled.”

An indicative anecdote - if only because behind the Duke’s outward good nature one can discern a growing determination. But more important, perhaps, is a hint at the prevailing moral climate in Florence. Despite the fact that under the great dukes morals in the city became simpler and freer, this caused discontent among many; those forces which had led to the rise of Savonarola and the Republic of Christ might at any moment reassemble under their banner.

Like many Medici - his predecessors, Ferdinando II loved to organize various kinds of spectacles for the people. Florence, as before, was proud of its artistic achievements, but today was only a pale shadow of a great era; peace and prosperity, it seemed, were powerless to give birth to geniuses, such as were inspired by times of restlessness and violence. Even the renowned taste that Florence has always been distinguished by was shaken - uncertainty exacerbated it, and stability needed only entertainment and sweet memories of the “good old days.” This is perhaps best seen in the example of the most popular artist of that time, Luca Giordano. For once, the favorite of Florence was not even a Florentine. Giordano was born in Naples, and his talent was that of a copyist. Like pies, he baked imitations of paintings by Michelangelo, Raphael and other great creators of the Renaissance. Gone are the days when Florence was the trendsetter, now art centers are scattered throughout Europe - Rome, Paris, Amsterdam. The High Renaissance, which Giordano so assiduously imitated, became the property of history, and yet the Florentines preferred its anachronistic fakes to the Baroque style dominant in Europe.

They say that this style, with its melodrama, penchant for pathos, love of excess, is emotionally alien to the Florentine taste, which prefers clear lines and classical forms. But this is highly controversial. After all, it was Florence that gave birth to and fell in love with Michelangelo, whose creations, full of dramatic tension and anguish, actually pave the way for the Baroque with its excess. Florentine taste developed from Masaccio to Botticelli and further to Michelangelo; but now it, this glorious taste, has been shaken. And it is precisely this, and not some flaws in the Baroque style, that explains the city’s inability to ride the wave of artistic progress.

However, not all Florentine art of this period is secondary. Cardinal Giancarlo de' Medici, the younger brother of Ferdinando II, placed orders for the Neapolitan painter and poet Salvator Rosa, whose considerable talent was never fully realized.

In contrast to the belated Luca Giordano, Rosa was ahead of his time as an artist. Some of his poems, as well as landscapes and portraits, are now unmistakably perceived as a distant premonition of the era of romanticism that has not yet arrived. On the “Self-Portrait of a Philosopher,” with its harsh, gloomy colors, the artist wrote the following inscription:

Out of loquerre meliora

and if you say, then

let the words be

better than silence.)

Unfortunately, Rosa himself was not always faithful to this call, writing, to please mass taste, weak satirical plays or drawing battle scenes. Like the time and place when and where he lived, Rose was unsure of himself; As an artist, he grabbed hold of literally everything, even playing comic roles on stage. Only a small part of his legacy remains significant, but it speaks much more than the silence of his minor works and the lack of artistic taste that was felt in the Florence of his time.

Another brother of Ferdinando II - the youngest - Leopoldo also became a cardinal in the future, but even before leaving for Rome for the enthronement ceremony, he took a step that marked the last outbreak of the Renaissance of the Medici - patrons of the arts, or rather, in this case, the sciences. In 1657 he founded the Accademia del Cimento, the very name of which is a direct response to Galileo's favorite scientific method (cimento - "test", "experiment"). Leopoldo's "Experimental Academy" set as its goal precisely this development of science. Its slogan is: “Experience, and again experience”; its emblem is a structure reminiscent of a furnace for testing metals. The academicians, and this circle of ten or so enthusiasts included Ferdinando II himself, met from time to time either in the Pitti Palace or, when the court moved in the summer, in Pisa.

Experiments were carried out in the palace itself, sometimes in a large oven placed in the Boboli Gardens. Strictly speaking, there were no permanent members or charter in the Academy - just participants in informal meetings. They shared the results of their research in correspondence with scientists from different cities of Europe - at that time this was the only way to disseminate scientific knowledge.

During the Renaissance, many societies arose to popularize philosophical, literary and theological ideas, but scientific societies proper did not appear until the 17th century. The first of them was formed in 1603 in Rome - the Accademia dei Lincei (lynx). At the same time, Galileo was offered membership in it, and at one of the meetings the occhiale (spectacles) he built were called a telescope. But after Galileo was condemned by the church, the Academy was dissolved. Thus, the later - 1657 - founding of the Experimental Academy was a bold step. Well, innovative, of course. The Royal Academy in London appeared only in 1662, the Academy of Sciences in Paris four years later, and the Berlin Academy in 1700.

In addition, the Experimental Academy was still something more than just a free club of amateur scientists from the aristocratic class showing interest in the latest scientific discoveries. Among its active members was the great Italian physicist Evangelista Torricelli. In 1641, being thirty-four years old, he took the post of assistant to Galileo in Florence - no small honor. And the next year, after the death of Galileo, Torricelli became a professor of mathematics at the University of Florence.

In 1643, he took up a problem suggested to him by Galileo. He took a U-shaped tube closed at one end and filled it with mercury; then he turned it over and lowered the open end into a vessel also with mercury. The mercury flowed into the vessel, but not completely; an empty space formed at the closed end of the tube. It was a vacuum, and Torricelli was the first to create it in a stable form. While studying this vacuum - Torricell's void - the scientist noticed that the level of mercury was changing from day to day. He decided that this was due to changes in air pressure - so Torricelli invented the barometer.

Of course, not all of the academicians’ ideas were so significant, but they developed even the most seemingly bizarre of them with great enthusiasm. Continuing family tradition, founded by his great-grandfather Cosimo I, Ferdinando II intensively studied biology, showing a special interest in exotic animals. So, on his instructions, several camels were brought to Florence from India - at first they were placed in the Boboli Gardens. Ferdinando was convinced that camels were superior in patience and endurance to other beasts of burden, such as mules, and intended to use them in the draft trade. To the great joy of the local residents, camels soon walked throughout Tuscany, although in the end they had to admit that they were rather exotic and did not bring commercial benefits with them. Well, the idea didn’t work, but the camels remained for a long time, almost until the middle of the 20th century, when approximately two hundred camels walking along the coastal ducal park in San Rossor near Pisa could serve as a reminder of the failed idea.

Ferdinando II intended to give his son a natural science education, but this was opposed by the Grand Duchess Vittoria, who considered science to be heresy. She insisted that her son receive a strictly theological training. Not the best choice, it turned out, for it only strengthened the boy’s tendency towards piety and melancholic thoughtfulness - a tendency that in adolescence led to an obsession with getting closer to Christian martyrs. Ferdinando II did not like all this, but he decided not to interfere: he valued peace above all else. Many see this as a weakness of character, and it is difficult to deny that at times it really took its toll. The refusal to speak out in defense of Galileo when he was in trouble, as well as the unwillingness to protect his son from church obscurantism, can hardly be interpreted as anything other than weakness of character. But in broad terms, Ferdinando II's irrepressible desire for a peaceful life turned out to be a blessing for Tuscany. Throughout his long reign - only a year was short of half a century - Tuscany knew almost no wars. At the same time, it cannot be said that these years were completely serene, because already the very beginning of the reign of Ferdinand II was marked by natural disasters. The complete loss of the 1621 harvest, despite the fact that the previous few years could not be called fat, brought Florence to the brink of famine; further, for three years in a row, until 1633, the city suffered from outbreaks of plague, which wiped out almost ten percent of the population. The personal appearance of Ferdinando II in the Santa Croce quarter, where he was distributing alms at that time, greatly contributed to his popularity.

From now on, he ruled as a benevolent despot, while the grand duchy gradually plunged into a long economic stagnation, which was caused, in particular, by the decline in world prices for silk and textile products. There were, however, bright spots: Florence attracted more and more tourists. Spread of Renaissance art and ideas in Northern Europe led to a revival of interest in classical Rome and Italian Renaissance. A grand tour of Italy became part of the education of young people from wealthy families, and Florence, with its Renaissance architecture, sculptures, and paintings, became an indispensable stop on the way to Rome.

During the reign of Ferdinando II, Florence was embroiled in only one military campaign, when in 1641 Pope Urban VIII occupied the tiny quasi-independent state of Castro on the southern border of Tuscany. Ferdinando II conducted careful diplomatic reconnaissance and found out that in the event of a counterattack, neither Spain nor France would intervene in the conflict. So he donned his shining armor in 1643 and, at the head of a large, albeit motley army of volunteers and mercenaries, moved towards Castro, where the papal troops were quickly put to flight. Florence rejoiced, but the joy of the inhabitants was greatly tempered when it became clear that this campaign had practically emptied the treasury of the grand duchy. It could no longer pay interest on government bonds, which devalued many citizens' deposits, large and small. There was a real threat of bankruptcy of the entire country, but the supposed fever of sales of government bonds never came; economic growth slowed down so much that there was simply nothing else to invest in. IN rural areas the resulting shortage of cash was compensated for in settlements with workers by barter, and in the city the economy was somehow kept afloat by the increasing influx of tourists.

By that time, the main income of the Medici family came from the church, and when hard times came, Ferdinando II founded several charitable foundations of sorts to support the unemployed. Thus, alms that came to the church from the poor were returned to them. At the same time, the level of family well-being inevitably decreased, because it was most closely connected with the well-being of the state. Lorenzo the Magnificent could delve into the city treasury to satisfy his various whims, but Ferdinando II had no need to encroach on public funds, for the treasury of the grand duchy was his treasury. From this, for example, it followed that the ongoing reconstruction of Palazzo Pitti was carried out at the expense of public works, private contractors had nothing to do with it. Long gone are the days when banking was the main source of success for the Medici family, and it was Ferdinando II who put an end to it completely: the Medici became aristocrats, they entered the royal circle of Europe and had no desire to be reminded of their commercial past.

In a desperate attempt to revive the economy, Ferdinando II launched several public projects, the largest of which was the construction of houses in Livorno, which was in dire need of new housing. After Cosimo I issued a decree on freedom of religion, this port began to rapidly transform into a prosperous multilingual city, so that in 1634 an English consulate was opened here, and the mellifluous name of Livorno was rudely changed by the British into Leghorn. The most diverse audience was drawn here - large merchants and small traders, sailors, people fleeing church persecution, deserters and other outcasts. Trade here was not subject to taxes, but indirectly brought considerable income to the Grand Duchy - in the form of small craft farms, which grew in the city outskirts. On the other hand, Livorno has earned the notoriety of being the largest slave trading center in the northern Mediterranean. The English traveler John Evelyn, who visited it in 1644, wrote in his diary: “The number of slaves, Turks, Moors, people of other nations is amazing; some are being sold, some are being bought, some are drinking, some are playing, some are working, others are sleeping, fighting, singing, crying, everyone is stripped to the waist, everyone is in chains.” In accordance with his general policy, Ferdinando II built new houses along the canals, in the area now known as New Venice; the unwanted public was herded into one place and sent to Algeria.

Upon reaching fifty years of age, Ferdinando began to suffer from dropsy, and he was tormented by frequent apoplexy attacks. In 1670, when he was fifty-nine years old, the Grand Duke became seriously ill, and the best medical forces of the time were called in to help. But, according to an eyewitness, “this did not lead to anything, the personal doctor bled him and removed a large stone from his bladder... Then they tried cauterization, then powders in the nose - no effect... Finally, they dismantled four live pigeons into pieces and applied the insides to forehead." Soon the Duke died. Ferdinando II was not particularly loved by the people, but the Florentines were accustomed to his generous autocratic rule and mourned his death, if not inconsolably, but universally.

PROLOGUE. THE SUN IS AT THE ZENITH

Looking at the group portrait of the Medici family, you experience, in some part, a feeling of admiration and respect, and in everything else - shock and horror. In order to adore and respect, one must appreciate their generosity, good deeds, policies, and scientific institutions they created. And to feel the shock and horror, it is enough to listen to the deafening growl emanating from the depths of their private lives.

John Boyle, Earl of Cork and Orrery, friend of the poet Alexander Pope and one of the first British residents of Florence (1755)

Florence, Sunday April 26, 1478, bells can be heard ringing from the towers hanging over the roofs of the houses. Lorenzo the Magnificent, surrounded by intimates, heads through a festively dressed crowd of townspeople to the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore.

Twenty-nine-year-old Lorenzo is the head of the Medici family, which, together with its allies, relying on a powerful political machine and observing the external forms of republican democracy, reigns supreme in Florence. Here, in the most developed of Italian cities, with all its wealth and extravagance, the medieval God-fearing world is gradually giving way to a new, self-confident humanism. The Medici Bank had already become the most successful and respected financial institution in Europe, with branches and representatives in major commercial centers, from London to Venice. Even the recent loss of a very profitable papal order to the Florentine rivals of the Medici, the Pazzi family, was no worse than a mosquito bite; income from the Medici bank turned Florence into one of the architectural and generally cultural wonders of Europe, giving the family the opportunity to invite such artists as Donatello, Botticelli and Leonardo da Vinci to work. But even among geniuses of this caliber, it is Lorenzo who embodies the very spirit of the new humanism - the humanism of the Renaissance. It’s not for nothing that everyone calls him Il magnifico - Magnificent; he is a Florentine prince in all but name, and his followers covet him as godfather to their first-born male children. Lorenzo himself views his power as a celebration: people are given festivals and carnivals. By commissioning works of art, Lorenzo demonstrates obvious aesthetic taste; he understands the artists he attracts to the court, encourages them to achieve excellence, developing precisely their best qualities - and they pay him respect as an equal in matters of art. He himself is an accomplished musician, athlete and fencer; he is well advanced in philosophy and will soon gain a reputation as one of the best Italian poets of his time; with all this, however, Lorenzo is proud that he is a man of the people: he dresses much more modestly than most Florentine nobles. And Lorenzo’s appearance, if we leave aside a certain aura surrounding him that hints at inner strength, is rather nondescript. The most famous of his portraits - a bust of colored terracotta by Verrocchio - depicts a surprisingly gloomy figure with rough facial features: an elongated nose, like all Medici, a prominent lower jaw, heavy-lidded eyes, large, but for some reason completely insensitive mouth with thin lips. It is not easy to discern an exceptional personality behind these frozen features, although, undoubtedly, animated by his inner strength, they radiate that magnetism that made him so attractive in the eyes of women and at the same time not only did not leave him indifferent, but aroused the admiration of philosophers, artists, even ordinary people .

To the sound of bells, Lorenzo and his retinue reach the end of Via Larga and head towards the cathedral square. Directly in front of them floats towards the sky the dome created by the genius of Brunelleschi - perhaps the most outstanding architectural structure of the early European Renaissance, second only to the Roman Pantheon, which was built a thousand years earlier: only now is Europe beginning to approach the greatness of its own past. Lorenzo and his friends enter the cool, gloomy arches of the cathedral.

On Via Larga, behind Lorenzo, limping - he is tormented by an attack of sciatica - the younger Medici, Giuliano, hurries. He is accompanied by Francesco de' Pazzi and the latter's friend Bernardo Bandini; at one point, Francesco puts his arm around Giuliano's shoulders in a friendly manner, helping him cope with his limp and assuring him that there is no hurry. He cheerfully nudges Giuliano in the side, making sure that there is no chain mail under his fluffy camisole. Once in the cathedral, Giuliano sees that his brother has already approached the main throne. Lorenzo is surrounded by friends and two priests, one of whom Giuliano recognizes as the home teacher of the Pazzi family. The service begins and Giuliano de' Medici decides to stay at the door with Francesco de' Pazzi, Bernardo Bandini and others. The sounds of choral singing soar into the heights, filling the entire space of the cathedral under a powerful dome; then the choir falls silent and the officiating priest prepares to begin the ceremony of the solemn mass. The sacristy bells ring, drowning out the whispering of freely behaving parishioners; but now their voices subside, and the priest raises the host before the main altar.

At this very moment, two events are happening simultaneously. Bernardo Bandini pulls out a dagger, turns sharply and plunges it into the back of Giuliano’s head with such force that a fountain of blood bursts out of the latter’s shattered skull. Francesco de' Pazzi, standing nearby, begins to furiously, as if maddened, cover Giuliano's body as it falls to the floor with blows. The pouring blood blinds him so much that, rushing at Giuliano’s prone body, he accidentally hits his own thigh with the dagger.

At the same moment, two priests standing near the main altar behind Lorenzo quickly snatch daggers from under their cassocks. One, about to stab him in the back, grabs his shoulder with his palm, but Lorenzo dodges, and the tip of the dagger simply leaves a scratch on his neck. Stepping back, he tears off his cloak, wraps it around his hand, forming something like a shield, and with the other hand he quickly snatches the sword from its sheath. The priests retreat in confusion, however, without letting go of their daggers. Lorenzo is immediately surrounded by those gathered, screams are heard, blades flash, his closest friends draw their swords, allowing him to jump over the altar fence and escape through the open door leading to the sacristy. Deciding that Giuliano de' Medici is finished, Bernardo Bandini, sword drawn, rushes through the crowd to the altar. He tries to block Lorenzo's path, but Magnificent Francesco's friend Nori gets in his way. Bandini glides past him like butter, killing him with one blow on the spot. In the ensuing chaos, someone else is wounded, and when Bandini finally breaks through, Lorenzo and his friends are already locking the heavy brass door of the sacristy behind them.

Lorenzo touches his neck with his palm, blood oozes, but the wound is shallow. Standing next to him, Antonio Ridolfi rushes towards him and, hugging Lorenzo by the shoulders, as if going to kiss him on the neck; Lorenzo feels that his friend is sucking blood from the wound and spitting it on the floor - it is possible that the tip of the priest’s dagger was poisoned. Even through the copper door, shouts and exclamations can be heard - the congregation is gripped by excitement. Lorenzo leans forward impulsively:

Giuliano? Is he okay?

Friends look at each other. Nobody dares to answer.

In the commotion in the cathedral, Giuliano's killers and two priests disappear into the crowd; Meanwhile, all sorts of rumors are already spreading outside. Some claim that a huge dome has cracked, and people are rushing away, trying to quickly take refuge under the safe roof of their home; others call for a return to the cathedral arches; most break into groups and clumps, calming the sobbing and shocked. After a few minutes have passed, making sure that everything seems calm, Lorenzo's friends sneak him out through a side door of the cathedral and head down the street towards the Medici Palace.

Meanwhile, just a quarter of a mile away, another part of the conspiracy continues to unfold as planned. Archbishop Salviati, the head of the second group of conspirators, enters the Palazzo della Signoria, accompanied by his accomplice Jacopo Bracciolini and several other companions, and demands to be escorted to the Gonfalonier of Justice, the elected head of the city-state of Florence: he is the butler