Stefano Vignaroli - The Bronze Crown

«After all, he would have every right. The title of Capitano del Popolo 1belongs to him and his blood runs in little Laura’s veins», Bernardino said, with his voice almost starting to clear up.

«You’ve only just recovered and already you can’t keep your damn mouth shut? Don’t say heresies! Wasn’t it enough to escape the flames once? Do you want to end up in the fire again?» the nun replied ironically, going to close the window shutters and plunging the room into darkness. «Rest now, for you need it!»

«Just one thing, Sister. I have the urge to urinate. How can I do it? I’ll never get up from here!»

«How do you think you’ve been doing all these days? Just relax. We’ve applied a hose, which conveys your moods directly into a jar under the bed.»

Bernardino let go of the urine, marvelling at how in fact there was a strange odour in the room, due to the medicines and the poultices they had applied to his burns, but there was no smell of excrements at all. And he must have made some in a month that he was lying in bed!

While he could remember nothing of the delusions and dreams of the previous days, from then on Bernardino’s rest was constantly agitated by nightmares, dreams and visions, which he himself, in his awake sleep, could hardly distinguish from reality. Now he saw himself surrounded by flames, now he felt protected in Lucia’s gentle arms. Only now did he realize that it was she who had rescued him, who had saved his life. He saw her clearly above him before he lost consciousness. And he would have expected to see her next to him as soon as he opened his eyes again. But every time he woke up, he found himself in the same half-light room, helpless, unable even to lift himself. The only human presences were the nuns, now one, now another, who took turns at his bedside, sprinkling him with ointments and poultices and trying to make him swallow the usual broth. There seemed to be no other food in that hospital than that. Only once had he sensed the presence of the doctor next to him, a gruff man with thick white hair and lace of the same colour. He had put his ear to his chest and said: «In three days we’ll try to get him up. Despite his age, this man is a rock. He has a more tenacious heart than mine. Tomorrow we can give him a visit from the noble Baldeschi. Just a few minutes, sister! We mustn’t tire him out. Too much excitement could still be fatal to him.»

The printer felt asleep again, due to the medicines administered to him to relieve the pain. And this time he dreamed of being at work again in his printing house, completely rebuilt and renovated, more beautiful than before. And he dreamed of giving good advice to his noble lady friend. And he dreamed of seeing her on the People’s Captain bench, in the Hall of the Best in the Palazzo del Governo. And he dreamed the children, Anna and Laura, playing and chasing each other in the park of a sumptuous country residence, while he watched them like a caring grandfather.

When, re-emerging to reality from one of his countless troubled dreams, he realized that next to his bed was the noble Lucia, he had the impression that all the pain had suddenly disappeared and he was regaining his strength. So much so that he managed to lift himself up a little, while Lucia, with a loving rather than charitable gesture, placed a pillow behind his back so that he was more comfortable, while allowing him to maintain that position.

«Tell me you are not a dream, my Lady!» said Bernardino, with his voice interrupted by coughing.

He felt Lucia’s hands looking for one of his own to hold her, giving him an unexpected feeling of warmth, which gave him a new strength. He lifted himself even more with his back, among the protests of the nun who threatened to immediately interrupt the visit. Bernardino did not perceive the nun’s nod to Lucia, but the result was evident, because the nun was silent, or rather he withdrew from the room, leaving the two friends free to talk to each other.

«I’m glad you’re recovering, Bernardino. You don’t know how much, at this moment, I need you and your advice. The Cardinal is dead and the situation in the city is very difficult. It seems that the Pope was sending a new Bishop and the choice had fallen on the elderly Cardinal Ghislieri, of Jesi’s origin. He was supposed to take the reins of both the Church and the city government, but... But he never got to Jesi.»

«Why?» asked Bernardino, intrigued.

«Unfortunately, Leo X came suddenly to death in the past few days.»

«But, he was only forty-six years old!»

«Exactly, many believe he was poisoned. Giovanni De’ Medici was too close to his family, to the Lords of Florence, for the ecclesiastical oligarchy to accept him. And now, pending the election of a new Pope, the Cardinals gathered in conclave in Rome are dividing the territories between them. It seems that as linked of the Holy See for our city, without prejudice to the rights and privileges of the municipality, Cardinal Jacobacci has been appointed.»

«But, Jacobacci is linked to the worst fundamentalist faction of the Guelphs.»

«Indeed, but even of this Jacobacci we have not seen the shadow here in Jesi. And meanwhile, after the sack of 1517, misery rages in the countryside and the city. And it seems that the plague has come to Ancona, and I don’t think it will be long before it reaches us.»

«Listen to me, Lucia! Take the reins of government in the city. You have every right to do so. Don’t worry about being a woman. Call the Jesi’s nobles together. They’ll be happy to help you. And place a crown over the rampant lion on the facade of the Palazzo del Governo. It will remind everyone that Jesi is a royal city and that it will be governed independently of the Church. If the Cardinal arrives late, it’s his loss. When he arrives he will think about religious matters, while the Civil Government will be of the people, as it must be.»

«Are you instigating me to stir up a rebellion?»

«No, I’m just saying you have to take responsibility. And take your rightful place. There is no other solution!»

I was sick, and you didn’t come to visit me...

(Gospel according to Mark 6:56)

At the sight of another black smoke, the Camerlengo could not refrain from puffing. After the death of Leo X, Giovanni De’ Medici, it was more than a month since the Cardinals were gathered in conclave, locked in rooms where only he could have the freedom to enter and exit as he wanted. The fact is that, precisely by virtue of this privilege of his, he had well understood that the high prelates had no intention of electing the new Pope, if they had not previously resolved among themselves the issues concerning the division of lands and feuds. The Bishop of Florence, Cardinal Giulio De’ Medici, was not at all convinced that the death of his relative had occurred due to natural causes, and he launched into long and protracted discussions about his suspicions regarding a hypothetical poisoning of the deceased Pope and the probable perpetrators of the plot. All to try to convince the majority of his colleagues to vote for him as the new pontiff. And so, between one vote and another, between one black smoke and another, not a few hours but sometimes even more than a whole day passed.

When he saw the smoke, the Camerlengo arranged everything so that the Cardinals would be adequately refreshed. He would send some servants to set a table in a large empty hall and, when everything was ready, he would chase the servants away and open the door to the rooms where the Conclave took place. In fact, no one but him could speak with the Cardinals, so that they were in no way influenced in their choices.

Innocent Cybo was immediately appointed Camerlengo at the death of Leo X, because he was his right hand man, the one who had been closest to him and who knew well how to administer the State of the Church in that period of vacancy of the highest authority. He had seen the usual familiar faces arrive, Cardinals of whom he knew life, death and miracles, vices, virtues and ambitions. He had immediately realized the absence of an important figure, Cardinal Artemio Baldeschi of Jesi. Someone had then told him that Cardinal Baldeschi had died in tragic circumstances, perhaps following a fight with a servant girl in his palace.