Lorenzo appears to have made, however, rather a favourable impression upon Sixtus, for he entered into negotiations concerning the sale of the costly jewels which had been collected by Pope Paul II. In the end Lorenzo purchased the cabinet and its contents, and made thereby a very excellent bargain.
During his sojourn in the Eternal City, Lorenzo acquired a number of precious antiques, rare manuscripts, and valuable works of art. Sixtus, noting his artistic tastes, sent him many handsome gifts, and promised, at his solicitation, to prevent the destruction of ancient buildings and monuments. They parted apparently excellent friends.
Giuliano’s Giostra was even more brilliant than that of Lorenzo, six years before. It was celebrated in honour of “La bella Simonetta,” with whom the impressionable young prince became daily more and more madly in love. Whether his infatuation went at all beyond the bounds of Platonic affection is doubtful. His lovely innamorata was the wife of his best friend, and his honour went for much in the loyal estimation of Giuliano. Besides this, his good mother’s influence in the cause of virtue and modesty was all-powerful with both her sons.
Strange to say, this romantic attachment stirred the jealousy of a very prominent citizen, no less a personage than Messer Francesco de’ Pazzi. He and his brothers declined the invitation to the Giostra, and abstained from participation in the general festivities. It was a case of race rivalry and of personal jealousy, but it meant much in the relations of the two families.
The efforts which Lorenzo continually made “to gain a firm footing in Florence”—as Francesco de’ Guicciardini has recorded—quite naturally were productive of opposition and animosity. The men who had placed him in power were again in two camps—those who were content with the status quo, and those who were not. The latter made less and less effort to conceal their real sentiments, and at length set about to question Lorenzo’s motives, and defeat his projects. He was a beau-ideal citizen, for, with all his love of show and circumstance, even in the fulness of his dignity and dominion, he knew how to retain and exhibit certain homely and simple traits, which were quite after the Florentine manner.
He met criticisms and oppositions with the very characteristic statement: “I will,” said he, “allow no man to put his foot on my throat!” This threat—for so it was accounted by those who wished to discredit him—was like a red gauntlet thrown down, and, later on, a hand—if not a foot—and a dagger, were at Lorenzo’s throat!
The overstrain of desire, the feverishness of acquisitiveness, and the lust for power, often in their intensity defeat the purpose sought. The personality of Lorenzo waxed greater and mightier day by day in the nervously articulated constitution of Florence. The greatest genius of his age, he was not only the master of the Government, but the acknowledged chief of the Platonic Academy, the first of living poets, a most distinguished classical scholar, and the greatest benefactor the city had ever known. Everything was within his grasp and everyone had to bow to his will; his aim was to be autocratic Prince of Tuscany.