The Portable Machiavelli

by Niccolo Machiavelli

  LIGURIO: Well said. That’s just what we’ll do. (Exeunt all but Brother Timoteo.)

  SCENE 3

  BROTHER TIMOTEO

  TIMOTEO: I’m pleased with the way things went, considering how stupid that lawyer is, but the thing that pleased me most was what he said about my reward. I shouldn’t stay here since they will be looking for me at my place. I’ll wait for them in church, where my services bring a higher price. But who is coming out of that house? It looks like Ligurio, and that must be Callimaco with him. I don’t want them to see me, as I explained. If they don’t come to me, I can always find them. (Exit.).

  SCENE 4

  CALLIMACO, LIGURIO

  CALLIMACO: As I told you, Ligurio my friend, at first I was rather uneasy for a number of hours, and although I enjoyed myself very much, things didn’t seem right. But when I told her who I was, and about my love for her, and how easily the stupidity of her husband might allow us to love happily without any scandal, and how I would marry her as soon as God had made other plans for Messer Nicia—and when, in addition to these facts, she had felt the difference between the way I made love and how Nicia did, and the difference between the kisses of a young lover and those of an old husband, after sighing a few times she said: “Since your cunning, the stupidity of my husband, the unscrupulousness of my mother, and the evil nature of my confessor have made me do what I would never have done on my own, I shall have to believe that it is some divine power that causes me to act in this way! And since I am not capable of resisting Heaven’s wishes, I accept. Therefore, I take you for lord, master, and guide: you must be everything good; for me you will be my father, my defender; and what my husband wanted for one night I now want him to have forever. Become his close friend, then. Be in church this morning, and from there you can come to dine with us here; you can come and go as you will, and we can be together constantly and without suspicion.” Hearing those words, I was about to die from happiness. I could not express even a small part of what I felt. I am the happiest and most satisfied man in the world, and if time or death does not take this happiness from me, I shall be more blessed than the blessed, more saintly than the saints.

  LIGURIO: I am content if you are happy, and everything went just as I told you it would. But what do we do now?

  CALLIMACO: Let’s go to the church, since I promised to be there to see Lucrezia, her mother, and Messer Nicia.

  LIGURIO: I hear the door opening. They are over there with Messer Nicia behind them.

  CALLIMACO: Let’s go to the church and wait for them there. (Exeunt Ligurio and Callimaco.)

  SCENE 5

  MESSER NICIA, LUCREZIA, SOSTRATA

  NICIA: Lucrezia, I think everything should be done prudently and not haphazardly.

  LUCREZIA: Now what is your complaint?

  NICIA: Look how she answers—just like a proud cock!

  SOSTRATA: Don’t be too surprised; after all, she is a bit excited.

  LUCREZIA: What do you mean by that?

  NICIA: I’d better go ahead to speak to the priest and tell him to meet you at the door of the church to purify you. It is truly fitting that you be reborn this morning.

  LUCREZIA: Well, aren’t you going then?

  NICIA: You are really something this morning. Last night you seemed almost dead.

  LUCREZIA: That’s thanks to you.

  SOSTRATA: Go on and find the priest. No need—there he is outside the church.

  NICIA: You’re right.

  SCENE 6

  BROTHER TIMOTEO, MESSER NICIA, LUCREZIA, CALLIMACO, LIGURIO, SOSTRATA

  TIMOTEO: I am outside because Callimaco and Ligurio told me that Messer Nicia and the ladies are coming to church. Here they come now.

  NICIA: Bona dies, Father!

  TIMOTEO: Welcome, all of you. May Fortune smile on all of you, and may God grant you a handsome son, Madonna Lucrezia.

  LUCREZIA: May God grant it.

  TIMOTEO: Oh, He will, He certainly will grant it.

  NICIA: Are Ligurio and Doctor Callimaco coming to church as well?

  TIMOTEO: Of course.

  NICIA: Call them.

  TIMOTEO: Come over here! (Enter Callimaco and Ligurio.)

  CALLIMACO: God save you all!

  NICIA: Doctor, give my wife your hand.

  CALLIMACO: Most happily.

  NICIA: Lucrezia, this is the man who will provide us with a stout support for our old age.

  LUCREZIA: I am most grateful for that support, and I hope that he will become our close friend.

  NICIA: God bless you! I want you and Ligurio to dine with us this morning.

  LUCREZIA: Of course.

  NICIA: I am going to give them the key to the ground floor of the loggia so that they can come and stay there whenever they like; they have no women to care for them, poor beasts.

  CALLIMACO: I accept with pleasure, and I’ll make use of it whenever my need arises.

  TIMOTEO: Will I receive the monies for the alms?

  NICIA: You certainly will, Father. They will be sent today. LIGURIO: Won’t someone remember Siro?

  NICIA: Let him ask. Whatever I have is his. Lucrezia, how much should we give the priest for cleansing you?

  LUCREZIA: Give him ten large ducats.

  NICIA: Oh, my God!

  TIMOTEO: Lady Sostrata, you seem to be younger today. SOSTRATA: I’m happy. Who wouldn’t be today? TIMOTEO: Let’s all go into the church, and I’ll say the required service. Afterward you can go off to eat at your leisure. You in the audience—don’t wait for us to come out this time. The service is long, and I shall remain in church. The others will leave by the side door for their homes. Farewell!

  Curtain

  From THE ART OF WAR

  EDITORS’ NOTE

  Many of the general ideas contained in this work on war and military life are essential for an understanding of the most important concepts in Machiavelli-s political theory. The Art of War is not without errors of judgment or fundamental conceptual flaws. Machiavelli’s distrust of cavalry and his belief in the ineffectiveness of artillery in a modern army led him to make serious tactical blunders and to ignore the actual developments evident in the armies of his own time. His hatred of mercenary troops was motivated more by his humanistic preoccupation with the concept of civic virtue fostered by a citizens’militia than by a reasoned and dispassionate study of the actual military institutions of his day. For example, the armies of Cesare Borgia, which he praised, were composed not of the duke’s own subjects, as he imagined, but of professional mercenaries. Moreover, the bloodless battles he described with contempt in several of his works, and which he attributed to the use of mercenary troops, were not, in fact, as bloodless as he imagined His empirical observations were often distorted by the ideas he discovered in the classical texts on warfare and military leaders by Livy and Tacitus, as well as other writers, and his evaluation of military science in Renaissance Italy was colored by ideological concerns and political preferences. But if his essentially literary and humanistic views hindered an empirical study of military institutions in his time, they also allowed him to envision a more fundamental theoretical relationship between politics and warfare, which resulted in a concept of civic humanism that would be an integral part of the republican legacy in years to come.

  The gap between practice and theory in Machiavelli’s discussion of the art of war was evident even when the work first appeared in print. In the preface to one of his Novelle (I, xl), Matteo Bandello tells a humorous story about Machiavelli’s futile attempts to drill some troops under the command of the brilliant Medici condottiere, Giovanni delle Bande Nere (1494-1526). After more than two hours in the hot Milanese sun, Machiavelli had failed to implement his own advice in the field, yet with only the sound of a drum and the force of his personality the condottiere restored order and corrected Machiavelli’s mistakes in the twinkling of an eye. Yet Machiavelli’s political duties in the Florentine chancery did provide him with some limited practical military experi
ence, for his first official mission in 1498 involved the war with Pisa. In 1505 he was authorized to raise a body of militiamen from among the Florentine citizenry. His faith in a nonprofessional army was strengthened when his troops took Pisa in 1509. However, his militiamen were no match for the seasoned professional soldiers who attacked Florence in 1512 and restored the Medici to power. His discussion of the essential unity of politics and military science in The Art of War has always appealed to great military thinkers, including Frederick the Great, Napoleon, and von Clausewitz.

  The Art of War is divided into a preface and seven books. It is written in the form of a dialogue, a form popular among many humanists of the period, and the discussion of the art of war is set within a conversation among various friends who have gathered, in 1516, at the Orti Oricellari (the gardens belonging to Cosimo Rucellai, a Florentine gentleman) to welcome a well-known mercenary commander, Fabrizio Colonna. After the preface has underlined the essential interdependence of political and military affairs, the succeeding sections of the dialogue deal with: the problems of the citizen soldier (1); arms and military training (II); the role of artillery and the ideal army in battle (III); advice to military leaders (IV); spoils, supplies, and tactics in hostile territory (V); setting up camp, winter campaigns, strategy, and psychological warfare (VI); the defense and siege of cities, rules for war, a portrait of the ideal general, and the hope jor a rebirth of ancient military valor in modern Italy (VII). Many of the technical sections will be of interest only to specialists and military historians, but the pages reprinted in this translation—consisting of the complete preface, a major portion of the first book on the citizen soldier, a crucial section from the second book on the relationship of virtù and Fortuna, and that part of the seventh book enumerating the qualities of the ideal military leader and calling for a renaissance of classical military skill in modern Italy through an imitation of ancient military institutions—represent fundamental statements that shed light on these and related topics in Machiavelli’s major political works. The Art of War was published in 1521, being only one of two works by Machiavelli that appeared in print before his death. It received Renaissance translations into French (1546), English (1563 and 1573), Spanish (1536 and 1541), and German (1623), and continued to be widely read throughout the nineteenth century.

  PREFACE TO THE BOOK OF THE ART OF WAR BY NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI, CITIZEN AND FLORENTINE SECRETARY

  To Lorenzo di Filippo Strozzi, Florentine Patrician

  Many, Lorenzo, have held and still hold this opinion: that no two things have less in common or differ more from each other than a civil and a military life. Hence, one often notices that if a person plans to excel in military life, he not only immediately changes his way of dressing but also his habits, his customs, and his voice, thus setting himself apart from every civilian custom. For he cannot believe that he who seeks to be ready for any sort of violence can wear civilian clothes; nor can civilian habits and practices be followed by one who judges these practices to be effeminate and these customs to be useless to his profession ; nor does it appear suitable to retain normal behavior and speech when he wishes to terrify other men with his beard and his curses. This makes such an opinion in these times seem to be very true.

  But if ancient institutions are taken into consideration, one will find no two things more united, more alike, and, of necessity, more interrelated than these two; for all of the arts that have been instituted in a civil society for the common good of mankind and all of the institutions established to make men live in fear of the laws and of God would be vain if they were not provided with defenses; such defenses, if they are well organized, will preserve these institutions even if they are poorly organized. And thus, on the contrary, good institutions without military backing undergo the same sort of disorder as do the rooms of a splendid and regal palace which, adorned with gems and gold but lacking a roof, have nothing to protect them from the rain. And if in any other institution of city-states and kingdoms one uses every care to keep men loyal, pacified, and full of the fear of the Lord, in the army this care should really be doubled. For in what man can a country seek greater loyalty than in him who has promised to die for her? In whom should there be more love for peace than in him who can only be harmed by war? In what man should there be more love of God than in him who, submitting himself daily to countless dangers, has more need of His aid? When this necessity was well considered by those who governed empires and were in charge of armies, it caused military life to be praised by other men and to be followed and imitated with great diligence.

  But since military institutions are completely corrupted and have, for a long period, diverged from ancient practices, bad opinions about them have arisen, causing the military life to be despised and encouraging men to avoid associating with those who follow this profession. And since I am of the opinion, because of what I have seen and read, that it would not be impossible to restore this profession to ancient methods and to revive in it some measure of its past strength, I have decided, in order to do something of worth and not to waste my leisure time, to write for the satisfaction of those men who love ancient deeds about the art of war as I understand it. And although it is a daring thing to discuss a subject that others have made a profession, nevertheless I do not believe it is wrong to occupy with words a rank which many with greater presumption have held with deeds, for the errors that I commit in writing can be corrected without harm, but those which others have committed in practice cannot be recognized except through the downfall of their governments. Therefore, Lorenzo, please consider the qualities of these labors of mine and, utilizing your judgment, bestow upon them the blame or praise you deem they merit. I send them to you both to show you how grateful I am for the benefits I have received from you although my capabilities may not equal them—and also because it is the custom to honor with such works those who shine forth in their nobility, their wealth, their intelligence and their generosity—and how well I know that you have few equals in wealth and nobility, fewer still in intelligence, and none in generosity.

  BOOK I

  Because I believe that one can praise every man after his death without being blamed, since suspicion of flattery no longer exists, I shall not hesitate to praise our Cosimo Rucellai, whose name I shall never be able to recall to mind without tears, for I recognized in him those qualities desired in a good friend by his friends and in a citizen by his native city. I do not know what he considered to be so much his own (not excepting his soul, to mention nothing else) that he would not spend it willingly for his friends; nor do I know what undertaking would have frightened him if he had perceived the good of his native city in its accomplishment. And I freely confess that I have never met a man, among the many men I have known and have had dealings with, who was more ardent for grandiose and magnificent affairs. Nor did he complain of anything to his friends on his deathbed other than having been born to die young in his home, unhonored, not having been able to assist anyone the way he would have liked to. For he knew that no one could say anything about him other than that a good friend had passed away. Even if his deeds did not materialize, however, that is no reason for us or others who knew him not to bear witness to his praiseworthy qualities. Still, it is true that Fortune was not so completely unfriendly to him that she did not leave some brief reminder of the force of his intelligence, as some of his writings and his love of poetry demonstrate; for although he was not in love, in order not to waste time waiting for Fortune to lead him to higher thoughts he composed such works in his youth. Clearly, from these one can learn with what felicity he expressed his ideas and how greatly he might have been honored in the profession of poetry if he had followed it as his calling. However, since Fortune has deprived us of the presence of such a friend, there appears to be no other remedy than to enjoy his memory as much as possible and to repeat whatever he cleverly stated or wisely argued. And because there is nothing fresher of his memory than the recent conversation he had with Fabrizio
Colonna in his gardens (where that captain discussed many affairs of war and Cosimo keenly and wisely addressed many questions to him), it seems fitting to me, since I was present with some of our mutual friends, to preserve it for posterity so that those friends of Cosimo who were also present can, as they read, refresh their memory of his exceptional qualities. Others may lament the fact that they were not present, but they will still learn many things useful not only for military life but also for civilian life, wisely treated by a very intelligent man.

  I say, therefore, that when Fabrizio Colonna had returned from Lombardy, where he had fought for some time, with great glory to himself, for the Emperor Charles V, he decided, while passing through Florence, to rest there several days in order to visit His Excellency the Duke of Urbino and to see again several gentlemen with whom he had been friendly in the past. Whereupon Cosimo decided to invite him to his gardens, not so much to demonstrate his generosity as to have cause to speak with him at length, and to hear and learn from him the many things one can hope to learn from such an individual—for Cosimo it represented an opportunity to pass the day discussing those matters which gave his mind the most satisfaction. Fabrizio came, as Cosimo desired, and was received by Cosimo together with several other intimate friends, among whom were Zanobi Buondelmonti, Batista della Palla, and Luigi Alamanni, all young men beloved by him and steeped in the same studies, whose good qualities we shall leave unsaid, for they speak for themselves every day and every hour.

  Fabrizio, therefore, was honored (according to the times and the place) by all of them with the greatest possible honors; but when the pleasures of the meal were over and the tables were cleared and all celebrating was done with—something which occurs quickly among great men whose minds are turned toward honorable thoughts—Cosimo, using the pretext of avoiding the heat in order better to satisfy his desire, felt that it was best that they retire to the most private and shaded part of his garden. When they had arrived there and had taken their seats, some on the grass, which is very cool in that place, others upon seats placed in the shadow of the tallest trees, Fabrizio praised the spot as delightful. Looking closely at the trees and not recognizing some of them, he was perplexed. Noticing this, Cosimo said: “Perhaps you do not know some of these trees; but do not be surprised, for there are some here more famous among the ancients than they are among us today.” And when he had told him their names and had described how Bernardo, his grandfather, had worked extremely hard in cultivating them, Fabrizio replied: “I had thought as much; this place and this pursuit remind me of several princes of the Kingdom of Naples who delight in these ancient groves and shades.”