We live in a fortress, now. Barricaded against the sea of zealots in the streets outside.
Hmm- "zealots".
Their fervor for the Friar's visions increases daily. They would ban all art and ornament, and they have set their sights on the coin of the Realm itself!
Money? Dear God...
They see gold and silver coin as part of the fallen world. They would reduce all exchange to a state of barter only possible in the Garden of Eden!
(pretending to examine a sculpture) Hmmm- and what of banking?
(scoffs, imitates Savanarola) "Did Adam need gold coin?! Did Eve need a bank?! Did Cain charge interest to Abel?!" (Machiavelli smiles briefly, Cardinal Sforza and Medici chuckle)
And what of the Church's deposits in your banks?
They would scatter them like chaff. (he starts to sit. Machiavelli clears his throat, and Medici hastily stands up again) And, if they knew, Holy Father, of your personal accounts, they would burn the bank to the ground.
Well, then- perhaps we had better have our wealth brought back to Rome. (Machiavelli frowns)
How? The Friar has his spies everywhere.
(shrugs) Well, perhaps the good Friar could be bought.
With money?
No- a Bishopric. Generalship of the Dominican Order. (sits)
(also sits) The Dominican Order already does his bidding.
And, how can you buy one who would outlaw trade itself?
You offer him something that money cannot buy. Heaven itself.
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