If, as he himself affirmed, Lorenzo was deprived of the pleasure of smell, he had compensation in the greater acuteness of the other four senses, and it must have struck his keen eyes, as he passed to his place, that there seemed to be an unusually large muster of adherents of the Pazzi and Salviati.  Probably he reflected that they were there armed in honour of the Cardinal, who was the guest of Cavaliere Giacopo and under the guidance of Archbishop Francesco, as deputy of his Holiness the Pope.

In the vast congregation everybody of importance in Florence was assembled, with two notable exceptions—­the mother and the only brother of Lorenzo il Magnifico.  The Domina Lucrezia, who had suddenly retired from the prominent position she held at the Court of her son, remained at Careggi with the venerable Madonna Contessina, Cosimo’s widow, upon whom she waited with the utmost devotion.

The other absentee was, once more, Giuliano!  Consternation seized upon the conspirators, for the slaughter would not be complete without the shedding of his blood.

The preliminary anthems were being sung as the procession of the celebrant of the Mass, with his sacred ministers moved from the New Sacristy, and every head was bowed before the symbol of the cross.  Hesitation on the part of the confederates meant ruin, and, perhaps, death:  this no one knew better than Francesco de’ Pazzi.  Beckoning to Bernardo Bandino, he led the way to the north door of the Cathedral, and hurried off with him to the Medici Palace, not many yards away.

Asking to see the Lord Giuliano, the porter led them into the courtyard, and presently the groom of the chamber conducted them into the young prince’s apartment.  Giuliano was nearly dressed, and his valet was giving some final touches to his abundant brown hair and to his robes.

“Hasten, my lord, the Mass is in saying, or you will be too late,” exclaimed Francesco, “we have come to conduct you to the Duomo.”  Giuliano was in a gleeful mood, and joked his visitors upon their unexpected attentions.  At length he cried out:  “Lead on, Pazzo—­Medico will follow!”

Taking him in his humour, Francesco slipped his arm round Giuliano’s waist—­apparently as a mark of good-fellowship, but really for the purpose of feeling whether he was wearing armour under his blue velvet tunic.  With Bandino on the other side, the three made the rest of their way through the dense crowd in the Via Larga, being greeted respectfully by old and young, though many wondered at “Il bel Giulio’s” unwonted companions.

Entering the Duomo, the three stood a moment whilst a clear course was made for Giuliano to the centre of the congregation.  Lorenzo and the clergy and dignitaries within the choir were already upon their knees, ready to prostrate themselves as the celebrant held aloft the Sacred Host.  Near Lorenzo were Giovanni de’ Tornabuoni, his uncle,—­famous for his wealth, influence at Rome, and his probity,—­Antonio and Lorenzo de’ Cavalcanti, Lorenzo de’ Tornabuoni, Marco de’ Vespucci, and Filippo degli Strozzi, Chamberlains of Honour, and other distinguished Florentines and the foreign ambassadors.