# CHAPTER VI —_Of Conspiracies._

CHAPTER VI.—_Of Conspiracies._


It were an omission not to say something on the subject of
conspiracies, these being a source of much danger both to princes and
to private men. For we see that many more princes have lost their lives
and states through these than in open warfare; power to wage open war
upon a prince being conceded to few, whereas power to conspire against
him is denied to none. On the other hand, since conspiracies are
attended at every stage by difficulties and dangers, no more hazardous
or desperate undertakings can be engaged in by any private citizen;
whence it comes that while many conspiracies are planned, few effect
their object. Wherefore, to put princes on their guard against these
dangers, and to make subjects more cautious how they take part in them,
and rather learn to live content under whatever government fortune has
assigned them, I shall treat of them at length, without omitting any
noteworthy circumstance which may serve for the instruction of either.
Though, indeed, this is a golden sentence Of Cornelius Tacitus, wherein
he says that “_the past should have our reverence, the present our
obedience, and that we should wish for good princes, but put up with
any._”[11] For assuredly whosoever does otherwise is likely to bring
ruin both on himself and on his country.

 [11] _Tac. Hist._ iv. 8.


But, to go deeper into the matter, we have first of all to examine
against whom conspiracies are directed; and we shall find that men
conspire either against their country or their prince; and it is of
these two kinds of conspiracy that at present I desire to speak. For of
conspiracies which have for their object the surrender of cities to
enemies who are besieging them, and of all others contrived for like
ends, I have already said enough.

First, then, I shall treat of those conspiracies which are directed
against a prince, and begin by inquiring into their causes, which are
manifold, but of which one is more momentous than all the rest; I mean,
the being hated by the whole community. For it may reasonably be
assumed, that when a prince has drawn upon himself this universal
hatred, he must also have given special offence to particular men,
which they will be eager to avenge. And this eagerness will be
augmented by the feeling of general ill-will which the prince is seen
to have incurred. A prince ought, therefore, to avoid this load of
public hatred. How he is to do so I need not stop here to explain,
having discussed the matter already in another place; but if he can
guard against this, offence given to particular men will expose him to
but few attacks. One reason being, that there are few men who think so
much of an injury done them as to run great risks to revenge it;
another, that assuming them to have both the disposition and the
courage to avenge themselves, they are restrained by the universal
favour which they see entertained towards the prince.

Injuries are either to a man’s life, to his property, or to his honour.
As regards the first, they who threaten injuries to life incur more
danger than they who actually inflict them; or rather, while great
danger is incurred in threatening, none at all is incurred from
inflicting such injuries. For the dead are past thinking of revenge;
and those who survive, for the most part leave such thoughts to the
dead. But he whose life is threatened, finding himself forced by
necessity either to do or suffer, becomes a man most dangerous to the
prince, as shall be fully explained hereafter.

After menaces to life, injuries to property and honour stir men more
than any others, and of these a Prince has most to beware. For he can
never strip a man so bare of his possessions as not to leave him some
weapon wherewith to redress his wrongs, nor ever so far dishonour him
as to quell the stubborn spirit which prompts revenge. Of all
dishonours those done to the women of a household are the worst; after
which come such personal indignities as nerved the arm of Pausanias
against Philip of Macedon, and of many another against other princes;
and, in our own days, it was no other reason that moved Giulio Belanti
to conspire against Pandolfo, lord of Siena, than that Pandolfo, who
had given him his daughter to wife, afterwards took her from him, as
presently shall be told. Chief among the causes which led the Pazzi to
conspire against the Medici, was the law passed by the latter depriving
them of the inheritance of Giovanni Bonromei.

Another most powerful motive to conspire against a prince is the desire
men feel to free their country from a usurper. This it was which
impelled Brutus and Cassius to conspire against Cæsar, and countless
others against such tyrants as Phalaris, Dionysius, and the like.
Against this humour no tyrant can guard, except by laying down his
tyranny; which as none will do, few escape an unhappy end. Whence the
verses of Juvenal:—

“Few tyrants die a peaceful death, and few
The kings who visit Proserpine’s dread lord,
Unscathed by wounds and blood.”[12]


 [12] Ad generum Cereris sine caede et vulnere pauci
Descendunt reges, et sicca morte tiranni.
          _Juv. Sat._ x. 112.


Great, as I have said already, are the dangers which men run in
conspiring; for at all times they are in peril, whether in contriving,
in executing, or after execution. And since in conspiracies either many
are engaged, or one only (for although it cannot properly be said of
_one_ man that he _conspires_, there may exist in him the fixed resolve
to put the prince to death), it is only the solitary plotter who
escapes the first of these three stages of danger. For he runs no risk
before executing his design, since as he imparts it to none, there is
none to bring it to the ear of the prince. A deliberate resolve like
this may be conceived by a person in any rank of life, high or low,
base or noble, and whether or no he be the familiar of his prince. For
every one must, at some time or other, have leave to speak to the
prince, and whoever has this leave has opportunity to accomplish his
design. Pausanias, of whom we have made mention so often, slew Philip
of Macedon as he walked between his son and his son-in-law to the
temple, surrounded by a thousand armed guards. Pausanias indeed was
noble, and known to the prince, but Ferdinand of Spain was stabbed in
the neck by a poor and miserable Spaniard; and though the wound was not
mortal, it sufficed to show that neither courage nor opportunity were
wanting to the would-be-assassin. A Dervish, or Turkish priest, drew
his scimitar on Bajazet, father of the Sultan now reigning, and if he
did not wound him, it was from no lack either of daring or of
opportunity. And I believe that there are many who in their minds
desire the deed, no punishment or danger attending the mere wish,
though there be but few who dare do it. For since few or none who
venture, escape death, few are willing to go forward to certain
destruction.

But to pass from these solitary attempts to those in which several are
engaged, I affirm it to be shown by history that all such plots have
been contrived by men of great station, or by those who have been on
terms of close intimacy with the prince, since no others, not being
downright madmen, would ever think of conspiring. For men of humble
rank, and such as are not the intimates of their prince, are neither
fed by the hopes nor possessed of the opportunities essential for such
attempts. Because, in the first place, men of low degree will never
find any to keep faith with them, none being moved to join in their
schemes by those expectations which encourage men to run great risks;
wherefore, so soon as their design has been imparted to two or three,
they are betrayed and ruined. Or, assuming them fortunate enough to
have no traitor of their number, they will be so hampered in the
execution of their plot by the want of easy access to the prince, that
they are sure to perish in the mere attempt. For if even men of great
position, who have ready access to the prince, succumb to the
difficulties which I shall presently notice, those difficulties must be
infinitely increased in the case of men who are without these
advantages. And because when life and property are at stake men are not
utterly reckless, on perceiving themselves to be weak they grow
cautious, and though cursing the tyrant in their hearts, are content to
endure him, and to wait until some one of higher station than they,
comes forward to redress their wrongs. So that should we ever find
these weaklings attempting anything, we may commend their courage
rather than their prudence.

We see, however, that the great majority of conspirators have been
persons of position and the familiars of their prince, and that their
plots have been as often the consequence of excessive indulgence as of
excessive injury; as when Perennius conspired against Commodus,
Plautianus against Severus, and Sejanus against Tiberius; all of whom
had been raised by their masters to such wealth, honours, and
dignities, that nothing seemed wanting to their authority save the
imperial name. That they might not lack this also, they fell to
conspiring against their prince; but in every instance their
conspiracies had the end which their ingratitude deserved.

The only instance in recent times of such attempts succeeding, is the
conspiracy of Jacopo IV. d’Appiano against Messer Piero Gambacorti,
lord of Pisa. For Jacopo, who had been bred and brought up by Piero,
and loaded by him with honours, deprived him of his State. Similar to
this, in our own days, was the conspiracy of Coppola against King
Ferdinand of Aragon. For Coppola had reached such a pitch of power that
he seemed to himself to have everything but sovereignty; in seeking to
obtain which he lost his life; though if any plot entered into by a man
of great position could be expected to succeed, this certainly might,
being contrived, as we may say, by another king, and by one who had the
amplest opportunities for its accomplishment. But that lust of power
which blinds men to dangers darkened the minds of those to whom the
execution of the scheme was committed; who, had they only known how to
add prudence to their villainy, could hardly have missed their aim.

The prince, therefore, who would guard himself against plots, ought
more to fear those men to whom he has been too indulgent, than those to
whom he has done great wrongs. For the latter lack opportunities which
the former have in abundance; and the moving cause is equally strong in
both, lust of power being at least as strong a passion as lust of
revenge. Wherefore, a prince should entrust his friends with so much
authority only as leaves a certain interval between his position and
theirs; that between the two something be still left them to desire.
Otherwise it will be strange if he do not fare like those princes who
have been named above.

But to return from this digression, I say, that having shown it to be
necessary that conspirators should be men of great station, and such as
have ready access to the prince, we have next to consider what have
been the results of their plots, and to trace the causes which have
made them succeed or fail. Now, as I have said already, we find that
conspiracies are attended by danger at three stages: before during, and
after their execution; for which reason very few of them have had a
happy issue; it being next to impossible to surmount all these
different dangers successfully. And to begin with those which are
incurred beforehand, and which are graver than all the rest, I say that
he must be both very prudent and very fortunate who, when contriving a
conspiracy, does not suffer his secret to be discovered.

Conspiracies are discovered either by disclosures made, or by
conjecture. Disclosures are made through the treachery or folly of
those to whom you communicate your design. Treachery is to be looked
for, because you can impart your plans only to such persons as you
believe ready to face death on your behalf, or to those who are
discontented with the prince. Of men whom you can trust thus
implicitly, one or two may be found; but when you have to open your
designs to many, they cannot all be of this nature; and their goodwill
towards you must be extreme if they are not daunted by the danger and
by fear of punishment. Moreover men commonly deceive themselves in
respect of the love which they imagine others bear them, nor can ever
be sure of it until they have put it to the proof. But to make proof of
it in a matter like this is very perilous; and even if you have proved
it already, and found it true in some other dangerous trial, you cannot
assume that there will be the same fidelity here, since this far
transcends every other kind of danger. Again, if you gauge a man’s
fidelity by his discontent with the prince, you may easily deceive
yourself; for so soon as you have taken this discontented man into your
confidence, you have supplied him with the means whereby he may become
contented; so that either his hatred of the prince must be great
indeed, or your influence over him extraordinary, if it keep him
faithful. Hence it comes that so many conspiracies have been discovered
and crushed in their earliest stage, and that when the secret is
preserved among many accomplices for any length of time, it is looked
on as a miracle; as in the case of the conspiracy of Piso against Nero,
and, in our own days, in that of the Pazzi against Lorenzo and Giuliano
de’ Medici; which last, though more than fifty persons were privy to
it, was not discovered until it came to be carried out.

Conspiracies are disclosed through the imprudence of a conspirator when
he talks so indiscreetly that some servant, or other person not in the
plot, overhears him; as happened with the sons of Brutus, who, when
treating with the envoys of Tarquin, were overheard by a slave, who
became their accuser; or else through your own weakness in imparting
your secret to some woman or boy whom you love, or to some other such
light person; as when Dymnus, who was one of those who conspired with
Philotas against Alexander the Great, revealed the plot to Nicomachus,
a youth whom he loved, who at once told Cebalinus, and Cebalinus the
king.

Of discoveries by conjecture we have an instance in the conspiracy of
Piso against Nero; for Scaevinus, one of the conspirators, the day
before he was to kill Nero, made his will, liberated all his slaves and
gave them money, and bade Milichus, his freedman, sharpen his old rusty
dagger, and have bandages ready for binding up wounds. From all which
preparations Milichus conjecturing what work was in hand, accused
Scaevinus before Nero; whereupon Scaevinus was arrested, and with him
Natalis, another of the conspirators, who the day before had been seen
to speak with him for a long time in private; and when the two differed
in their account of what then passed between them, they were put to the
torture and forced to confess the truth. In this way the conspiracy was
brought to light, to the ruin of all concerned.

Against these causes of the discovery of conspiracies it is impossible
so to guard as that either through treachery, want of caution, or
levity, the secret shall not be found out, whenever more than three or
four persons are privy to it. And whenever more than one conspirator is
arrested, the plot is certain to be detected, because no two persons
can perfectly agree in a false account of what has passed between them.
If only one be taken, should he be a man of resolute courage, he may
refuse to implicate his comrades; but they on their part must have no
less courage, to stay quiet where they are, and not betray themselves
by flight; for if courage be absent anywhere, whether in him who is
taken or in those still at large, the conspiracy is revealed. And what
is related by Titus Livius as having happened in the conspiracy against
Hieronymus, tyrant of Syracuse, is most extraordinary, namely, that on
the capture of one of the conspirators, named Theodorus, he, with great
fortitude, withheld the names of all his accomplices, and accused
friends of the tyrant; while his companions, on their part, trusted so
completely in his courage, that not one of them quitted Syracuse or
showed any sign of fear.

All these dangers, therefore, which attend the contrivance of a plot,
must be passed through before you come to its execution; or if you
would escape them, you must observe the following precautions: Your
first and surest, nay, to say truth, your only safeguard, is to leave
your accomplices no time to accuse you; for which reason you must
impart the affair to them, only at the moment when you mean it to be
carried out, and not before. Those who have followed this course have
wholly escaped the preliminary dangers of conspiracies, and, generally
speaking, the others also; indeed, I may say that they have all
succeeded, and that it is open to every prudent man to act as they did.
It will be enough to give two instances of plots effected in this way.
Nelematus, unable to endure the tyranny of Aristotimus, despot of
Epirus, assembling many of his friends and kinsmen in his house,
exhorted them to free their country; and when some of them asked for
time to consider and mature their plans, he bade his slaves close the
doors, and told those assembled that unless they swore to go at once
and do as he directed he would make them over to Aristotimus as
prisoners. Alarmed by his threats, they bound themselves by a solemn
oath, and going forth at once and without delay, successfully carried
out his bidding. A certain Magus having fraudulently usurped the throne
of Persia; Ortanes, a grandee of that realm, discovering the fraud,
disclosed it to six others of the chief nobility, telling them that it
behoved them to free the kingdom from the tyranny of this impostor. And
when some among them asked for time, Darius, who was one of the six
summoned by Ortanes, stood up and said, “Either we go at once to do
this deed, or I go to the Magus to accuse you all.” Whereupon, all
rising together, without time given to any to change his mind, they
went forth and succeeded in effecting their end. Not unlike these
instances was the plan taken by the Etolians to rid themselves of
Nabis, the Spartan tyrant, to whom, under pretence of succouring him,
they sent Alasamenes, their fellow-citizen, with two hundred foot
soldiers and thirty horsemen. For they imparted their real design to
Alasamenes only, charging the rest, under pain of exile, to obey him in
whatever he commanded. Alasamenes repaired to Sparta, and never
divulged his commission till the time came for executing it; and so
succeeded in putting Nabis to death.

It was, therefore, by the precautions they observed, that the persons
of whom I have just now spoken escaped all those perils that attend the
contrivance of conspiracies; and any following their example may expect
the like good fortune. And that all may learn to do as they did I shall
notice the case of Piso, of which mention has before been made. By
reason of his rank, his reputation, and the intimate terms on which he
lived with Nero, who trusted him without reserve, and would often come
to his garden to sup with him, Piso was able to gain the friendship of
many persons of spirit and courage, and well fitted in every way to
take part in his plot against the emperor, which, under these
circumstances, might easily have been carried out. For when Nero came
to his garden, Piso could readily have communicated his design to those
friends of his, and with suitable words have encouraged them to do
what, in fact, they would not have had time to withdraw from, and was
certain to succeed. And were we to examine all similar attempts, it
would be seen that there are few which might not have been effected in
the manner shown. But since most men are very ignorant of practical
affairs, they commit the gravest blunders, especially in matters which
lie, as this does, a little way out of the beaten track.

Wherefore, the contriver of a plot ought never, if he can help it, to
communicate his design until the moment when it is to be executed; or
if he must communicate it, then to some one man only, with whom he has
long been intimate, and whom he knows to be moved by the same feelings
as himself. To find one such person is far easier than to find several,
and, at the same time, involves less risk; for though this one man play
you false, you are not left altogether without resource, as you are
when your accomplices are numerous. For I have heard it shrewdly said
that to one man you may impart anything, since, unless you have been
led to commit yourself by writing, your denial will go as far as his
assertion. Shun writing, therefore, as you would a rock, for there is
nothing so damning as a letter under your own hand.

Plautianus, desiring to procure the deaths of the Emperor Severus and
his son Caracalla, intrusted the business to the tribune Saturninus,
who, being more disposed to betray than obey Plautianus, but at the
same time afraid that, if it came to laying a charge, Plautianus might
be believed sooner than he, asked him for a written authority, that his
commission might be credited. Blinded by ambition, Plautianus complied,
and forthwith was accused by Saturninus and found guilty; whereas, but
for that written warrant, together with other corroborating proofs, he
must have escaped by his bold denial of the charge. Against the
testimony of a single witness, you have thus some defence, unless
convicted by your own handwriting, or by other circumstantial proof
against which you must guard. A woman, named Epicharis, who had
formerly been a mistress of Nero, was privy to Piso’s conspiracy, and
thinking it might be useful to have the help of a certain captain of
triremes whom Nero had among his body-guards, she acquainted him with
the plot, but not with the names of the plotters. This fellow, turning
traitor, and accusing Epicharis to Nero, so stoutly did she deny the
charge, that Nero, confounded by her effrontery, let her go.

In imparting a plot to a single person there are, therefore, two risks:
one, that he may come forward of his own accord to accuse you; the
other, that if arrested on suspicion, or on some proof of his guilt, he
may, on being convicted, in the hope to escape punishment, betray you.
But in neither of these dangers are you left without a defence; since
you may meet the one by ascribing the charge to the malice of your
accuser, and the other by alleging that the witness his been forced by
torture to say what is untrue. The wisest course, however, is to impart
your design to none, but to act like those who have been mentioned
above; or if you impart it, then to one only: for although even in this
course there be a certain degree of danger, it is far less than when
many are admitted to your confidence.

A case nearly resembling that just now noticed, is where an emergency,
so urgent as to leave you no time to provide otherwise for your safety,
constrains you to do to a prince what you see him minded to do to you.
A necessity of this sort leads almost always to the end desired, as two
instances may suffice to show. Among the closest friends and intimates
of the Emperor Commodus, were two captains of the pretorian guards,
Letus and Electus, while among the most favoured of his distresses was
a certain Martia. But because these three often reproved him for his
manner of living, as disgraceful to himself and to his station, he
resolved to rid himself of them; and so wrote their names, along with
those of certain others whom he meant should be put to death the next
night, in a list which he placed under the pillow of his bed. But on
his going to bathe, a boy, who was a favourite of his, while playing
about his room and on his bed, found the list, and coming out of the
chamber with it in his hand, was met by Martia, who took it from him,
and on reading it and finding what it contained, sent for Letus and
Electus. And all three recognizing the danger in which they stood,
resolved to be beforehand with the tyrant, and losing no time, murdered
him that very night.

The Emperor Caracalla, being with his armies in Mesopotamia, had with
him Macrinus, who was more of a statesman than a soldier, as his
prefect. But because princes who are not themselves good are always
afraid lest others treat them as they deserve, Caracalla wrote to his
friend Maternianus in Rome to learn from the astrologers whether any
man had ambitious designs upon the empire, and to send him word.
Maternianus, accordingly, wrote back that such designs were entertained
by Macrinus. But this letter, ere it reached the emperor, fell into the
hands of Macrinus, who, seeing when he read it that he must either put
Caracalla to death before further letters arrived from Rome, or else
die himself, committed the business to a centurion, named Martialis,
whom he trusted, and whose brother had been slain by Caracalla a few
days before, who succeeded in killing the emperor.

We see, therefore, that an urgency which leaves no room for delay has
almost the same results as the method already noticed as followed by
Nelematus of Epirus. We see, too, what I remarked almost at the outset
of this Discourse, that the threats of princes expose them to greater
danger than the wrongs they actually inflict, and lead to more active
conspiracies: and, therefore, that a prince should be careful not to
threaten; since men are either to be treated kindly or else got rid of,
but never brought to such a pass that they have to choose between
slaying and being slain.

As to the dangers attending the execution of plots, these result either
from some change made in the plan, or from a failure in courage on the
part of him who is to carry it out; or else from some mistake he falls
into through want of foresight, or from his not giving the affair its
finishing stroke, as when some are left alive whom it was meant to put
to death. Now, nothing causes so much disturbance and hindrance in
human affairs, as to be forced, at a moment’s notice and without time
allowed for reflection, to vary your plan of action and adopt a
different one from that fixed on at the first. And if such changes
cause confusion anywhere, it is in matters appertaining to war, and in
enterprises of the kind we are now speaking of; for in such affairs as
these, there is nothing so essential as that men be prepared to do the
exact thing intrusted to them. But when men have for many days together
turned their whole thoughts to doing a thing in a certain way and in a
certain order, and the way and order are suddenly altered, it is
impossible but that they should be disconcerted and the whole scheme
ruined. For which reason, it is far better to do everything in
accordance with the preconcerted plan, though it be seen to be attended
with some disadvantages, than, in order to escape these, to involve
yourself in an infinity of dangers. And this will happen when you
depart from your original design without time given to form a new one.
For when time is given you may manage as you please.

The conspiracy of the Pazzi against Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici is
well known. The scheme agreed on was to give a banquet to the Cardinal
S. Giorgio, at which the brothers should be put to death. To each of
the conspirators a part was assigned: to one the murder, to another the
seizure of the palace, while a third was to ride through the streets
and call on the people to free themselves. But it so chanced that at a
time when the Pazzi, the Medici, and the Cardinal were all assembled in
the cathedral church of Florence to hear High Mass, it became known
that Giuliano would not be present at the banquet; whereupon the
conspirators, laying their heads together, resolved to do in church
what they were to have done elsewhere. This, however, deranged the
whole scheme. For Giovambattista of Montesecco, would have no hand in
the murder if it was to be done in a church; and the whole distribution
of parts had in consequence to be changed; when, as those to whom the
new parts were assigned had no time allowed them to nerve their minds
to their new tasks, they managed matters so badly that they were
overpowered in their attempt.

Courage fails a conspirator either from his own poorness of spirit, or
from his being overcome by some feeling of reverence. For such majesty
and awe attend the person of a prince, that it may well happen that he
softens or dismays his executioners. When Caius Marius was taken by the
people of Minturnum, the slave sent in to slay him, overawed by the
bearing of the man, and by the memories which his name called up,
became unnerved, and powerless to perform his office. And if this
influence was exercised by one who was a prisoner, and in chains, and
overwhelmed by adverse fortune, how much more must reverence be
inspired by a prince who is free and uncontrolled, surrounded by his
retinue and by all the pomp and splendour of his station; whose dignity
confounds, and whose graciousness conciliates.

Certain persons conspiring against Sitalces, king of Thrace, fixed a
day for his murder, and assembled at the place appointed, whither the
king had already come. Yet none of them raised a hand to harm him, and
all departed without attempting anything against him or knowing why
they refrained; each blaming the others. And more than once the same
folly was repeated, until the plot getting wind, they were taken and
punished for what they might have done, yet durst not do.

Two brothers of Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara, conspired against him,
employing as their tool a certain priest named Giennes, a singing-man
in the service of the Duke. He, at their request, repeatedly brought
the Duke into their company, so that they had full opportunity to make
away with him. Yet neither of them ever ventured to strike the blow;
till at last, their scheme being discovered, they paid the penalty of
their combined cowardice and temerity. Such irresolution can only have
arisen from their being overawed by the majesty of the prince, or
touched by his graciousness.

In the execution of conspiracies, therefore, errors and mishaps arise
from a failure of prudence or courage to which all are subject, when,
losing self-control, they are led in their bewilderment to do and say
what they ought not. That men are thus confounded, and thrown off their
balance, could not be better shown than in the words of Titus Livius,
where he describes the behaviour of Alasamenes the Etolian, at the time
when he resolved on the death of Nabis the Spartan, of whom I have
spoken before. For when the time to act came, and he had disclosed to
his followers what they had to do, Livius represents him as
“_collecting his thoughts which had grown confused by dwelling on so
desperate an enterprise_.” For it is impossible for any one, though of
the most steadfast temper and used to the sight of death and to handle
deadly weapons, not to be perturbed at such a moment. For which reason
we should on such occasions choose for our tools those who have had
experience in similar affairs, and trust no others though reputed of
the truest courage. For in these grave undertakings, no one who is
without such experience, however bold and resolute, is to be trusted.

The confusion of which I speak may either cause you to drop your weapon
from your hand, or to use words which will have the same results.
Quintianus being commanded by Lucilla, sister of Commodus, to slay him,
lay in wait for him at the entrance of the amphitheatre, and rushing
upon him with a drawn dagger, cried out, “_The senate sends you this_;”
which words caused him to be seized before his blow descended. In like
manner Messer Antonio of Volterra, who as we have elsewhere seen was
told off to kill Lorenzo de’ Medici, exclaimed as he approached him,
“_Ah traitor!_” and this exclamation proved the salvation of Lorenzo
and the ruin of that conspiracy.

For the reasons now given, a conspiracy against a single ruler may
readily break down in its execution; but a conspiracy against two
rulers is not only difficult, but so hazardous that its success is
almost hopeless. For to effect like actions, at the same time, in
different places, is well-nigh impossible; nor can they be effected at
different times, if you would not have one counteract another. So that
if conspiracy against a single ruler be imprudent and dangerous, to
conspire against two, is in the last degree fool-hardy and desperate.
And were it not for the respect in which I hold the historian, I could
not credit as possible what Herodian relates of Plautianus, namely,
that he committed to the centurion Saturninus the task of slaying
single-handed both Severus and Caracalla, they dwelling in different
places; for the thing is so opposed to reason that on no other
authority could I be induced to accept it as true.

Certain young Athenians conspired against Diocles and Hippias, tyrants
of Athens. Diocles they slew; but Hippias, making his escape, avenged
him. Chion and Leonidas of Heraclea, disciples of Plato, conspired
against the despots Clearchus and Satirus. Clearchus fell, but Satirus
survived and avenged him. The Pazzi, of whom we have spoken so often,
succeeded in murdering Giuliano only. From such conspiracies,
therefore, as are directed against more heads than one, all should
abstain; for no good is to be got from them, whether for ourselves, for
our country, or for any one else. On the contrary, when those conspired
against escape, they become harsher and more unsufferable than before,
as, in the examples given, Florence, Athens, and Heraclea had cause to
know. True it is that the conspiracy contrived by Pelopidas for the
liberation of his country, had to encounter every conceivable
hindrance, and yet had the happiest end. For Pelopidas had to deal, not
with two tyrants only, but with ten; and so far from having their
confidence, could not, being an outlaw, even approach them. And yet he
succeeded in coming to Thebes, in putting the tyrants to death, and in
freeing his country. But whatever he did was done with the aid of one
of the counsellors of the tyrants, a certain Charon, through whom he
had all facilities for executing his design. Let none, however, take
this case as a pattern; for that it was in truth a desperate attempt,
and its success a marvel, was and is the opinion of all historians, who
speak of it as a thing altogether extraordinary and unexampled.

The execution of a plot may be frustrated by some groundless alarm or
unforeseen mischance occurring at the very moment when the scheme is to
be carried out. On the morning on which Brutus and his confederates
were to slay Cæsar, it so happened that Cæsar talked for a great while
with Cneus Pompilius Lenas, one of the conspirators; which some of the
others observing, were in terror that Pompilius was divulging the
conspiracy to Cæsar; whose life they would therefore have attempted
then and there, without waiting his arrival in the senate house, had
they not been reassured by seeing that when the conference ended he
showed no sign of unusual emotion. False alarms of this sort are to be
taken into account and allowed for, all the more that they are easily
raised. For he who has not a clear conscience is apt to assume that
others are speaking of him. A word used with a wholly different
purpose, may throw his mind off its balance and lead him to fancy that
reference is intended to the matter he is engaged on, and cause him
either to betray the conspiracy by flight, or to derange its execution
by anticipating the time fixed. And the more there are privy to the
conspiracy, the likelier is this to happen.

As to the mischances which may befall, since these are unforeseen, they
can only be instanced by examples which may make men more cautious.
Giulio Belanti of Siena, of whom I have spoken before, from the hate he
bore Pandolfo Petrucci, who had given him his daughter to wife and
afterwards taken her from him, resolved to murder him, and thus chose
his time. Almost every day Pandolfo went to visit a sick kinsman,
passing the house of Giulio on the way, who, remarking this, took
measures to have his accomplices ready in his house to kill Pandolfo as
he passed. Wherefore, placing the rest armed within the doorway, one he
stationed at a window to give the signal of Pandolfo’s approach. It so
happened however, that as he came nigh the house, and after the
look-out had given the signal, Pandolfo fell in with a friend who
stopped him to converse; when some of those with him, going on in
advance, saw and heard the gleam and clash of weapons, and so
discovered the ambuscade; whereby Pandolfo was saved, while Giulio with
his companions had to fly from Siena. This plot accordingly was marred,
and Giulio’s schemes baulked, in consequence of a chance meeting.
Against such accidents, since they are out of the common course of
things, no provision can be made. Still it is very necessary to take
into account all that may happen, and devise what remedies you can.

It now only remains for us to consider those dangers which follow after
the execution of a plot. These in fact resolve themselves into one,
namely, that some should survive who will avenge the death of the
murdered prince. The part of avenger is likely to be assumed by a son,
a brother, or other kinsman of the deceased, who in the ordinary course
of events might have looked to succeed to the princedom. And such
persons are suffered to live, either from inadvertence, or from some of
the causes noted already, as when Giovann’ Andrea of Lampognano, with
the help of his companions, put to death the Duke of Milan. For the son
and two brothers of the Duke, who survived him, were able to avenge his
death. In cases like this, indeed, the conspirators may be held
excused, since there is nothing they can do to help themselves. But
when from carelessness and want of due caution some one is allowed to
live whose death ought to have been secured, there is no excuse.
Certain conspirators, after murdering the lord, Count Girolamo of
Forli, made prisoners of his wife and of his children who were still
very young. By thinking they could not be safe unless they got
possession of the citadel, which the governor refused to surrender,
they obtained a promise from Madonna Caterina, for so the Countess was
named, that on their permitting her to enter the citadel she would
cause it to be given up to them, her children in the mean time
remaining with them as hostages. On which undertaking they suffered her
to enter the citadel. But no sooner had she got inside than she fell to
upbraid them from the walls with the murder of her husband, and to
threaten them with every kind of vengeance; and to show them how little
store she set upon her children, told them scoffingly that she knew how
others could be got. In the end, the rebels having no leader to advise
them, and perceiving too late the error into which they had been
betrayed, had to pay the penalty of their rashness by perpetual
banishment.

But of all the dangers which may follow on the execution of a plot,
none is so much or so justly to be feared as that the people should be
well affected to the prince whom you have put to death. For against
this danger conspirators have no resource which can ensure their
safety. Of this we have example in the case of Cæsar, who as he had the
love of the Roman people was by them avenged; for they it was who, by
driving out the conspirators from Rome, were the cause that all of
them, at different times and in different places, came to violent ends.

Conspiracies against their country are less danger for those who take
part in them than conspiracies against princes; since there is less
risk beforehand, and though there be the same danger in their
execution, there is none afterwards. Beforehand, the risks are few,
because a citizen may use means for obtaining power without betraying
his wishes or designs to any; and unless his course be arrested, his
designs are likely enough to succeed; nay, though laws be passed to
restrain him, he may strike out a new path. This is to be understood of
a commonwealth which has to some degree become corrupted; for in one
wherein there is no taint of corruption, there being no soil in which
evil seed can grow, such designs will never suggest themselves to any
citizen.

In a commonwealth, therefore, a citizen may by many means and in many
ways aspire to the princedom without risking destruction, both because
republics are slower than princes are to take alarm, are less
suspicious and consequently less cautious, and because they look with
greater reverence upon their great citizens, who are in this way
rendered bolder and more reckless in attacking them. Any one who has
read Sallust’s account of the conspiracy of Catiline, must remember
how, when that conspiracy was discovered, Catiline not only remained in
Rome, but even made his appearance in the senatehouse, where he was
suffered to address the senate in the most insulting terms,—so
scrupulous was that city in protecting the liberty of all its citizens.
Nay, even after he had left Rome and placed himself at the head of his
army, Lentulus and his other accomplices would not have been
imprisoned, had not letters been found upon them clearly establishing
their guilt. Hanno, the foremost citizen of Carthage, aspiring to
absolute power, on the occasion of the marriage of a daughter contrived
a plot for administering poison to the whole senate and so making
himself prince. The scheme being discovered, the senate took no steps
against him beyond passing a law to limit the expense of banquets and
marriage ceremonies. So great was the respect they paid to his quality.

True, the _execution_ of a plot against your country is attended with
greater difficulty and danger, since it seldom happens that, in
conspiring against so many, your own resources are sufficient by
themselves; for it is not every one who, like Cæsar, Agathocles, or
Cleomenes, is at the head of an army, so as to be able at a stroke, and
by open force to make himself master of his country. To such as these,
doubtless, the path is safe and easy enough; but others who have not
such an assembled force ready at their command, must effect their ends
either by stratagem and fraud, or with the help of foreign troops. Of
such stratagems and frauds we have an instance in the case of
Pisistratus the Athenian, who after defeating the Megarians and thereby
gaining the favour of his fellow-citizens, showed himself to them one
morning covered with wounds and blood, declaring that he had been thus
outraged through the jealousy of the nobles, and asking that he might
have an armed guard assigned for his protection. With the authority
which this lent him, he easily rose to such a pitch of power as to
become tyrant of Athens. In like manner Pandolfo Petrucci, on his
return with the other exiles to Siena, was appointed the command of the
public guard, as a mere office of routine which others had declined.
Very soon, however, this armed force gave him so much importance that
he became the supreme ruler of the State. And many others have followed
other plans and methods, and in the course of time, and without
incurring danger, have achieved their aim.

Conspirators against their country, whether trusting to their own
forces or to foreign aid, have had more or less success in proportion
as they have been favoured by Fortune. Catiline, of whom we spoke just
now, was overthrown. Hanno, who has also been mentioned, failing to
accomplish his object by poison, armed his partisans to the number of
many thousands; but both he and they came to an ill end. On the other
hand, certain citizens of Thebes conspiring to become its tyrants,
summoned a Spartan army to their assistance, and usurped the absolute
control of the city. In short, if we examine all the conspiracies which
men have engaged in against their country, we shall find that few or
none have been quelled in their inception, but that all have either
succeeded, or have broken down in their execution. Once executed, they
entail no further risks beyond those implied in the nature of a
princedom. For the man who becomes a tyrant incurs all the natural and
ordinary dangers in which a tyranny involves him, and has no remedies
against them save those of which I have already spoken.

This is all that occurs to me to say on the subject of conspiracies. If
I have noticed those which have been carried out with the sword rather
than those wherein poison has been the instrument, it is because,
generally speaking, the method of proceeding is the same in both. It is
true, nevertheless, that conspiracies which are to be carried out by
poison are, by reason of their uncertainty, attended by greater danger.
For since fewer opportunities offer for their execution, you must have
an understanding with persons who can command opportunities. But it is
dangerous to have to depend on others. Again, many causes may hinder a
poisoned draught from proving mortal; as when the murderers of
Commodus, on his vomiting the poison given him, had to strangle him.

Princes, then, have no worse enemy than conspiracy, for when a
conspiracy is formed against them, it either carries them off, or
discredits them: since, if it succeeds, they die; while, if it be
discovered, and the conspirators be put to death themselves, it will
always be believed that the whole affair has been trumped up by the
prince that he might glut his greed and cruelty with the goods and
blood of those whom he has made away with. Let me not, however, forget
to warn the prince or commonwealth against whom a conspiracy is
directed, that on getting word of it, and before taking any steps to
punish it, they endeavour, as far as they can, to ascertain its
character, and after carefully weighing the strength of the
conspirators with their own, on finding it preponderate, never suffer
their knowledge of the plot to appear until they are ready with a force
sufficient to crush it. For otherwise, to disclose their knowledge will
only give the signal for their destruction. They must strive therefore
to seem unconscious of what is going on; for conspirators who see
themselves detected are driven forward by necessity and will stick at
nothing. Of this precaution we have an example in Roman history, when
the officers of the two legions, who, as has already been mentioned,
were left behind to defend the Capuans from the Samnites, conspired
together against the Capuans. For on rumours of this conspiracy
reaching Rome, Rutilius the new consul was charged to see to it; who,
not to excite the suspicions of the conspirators, publicly gave out
that by order of the senate the Capuan legions were continued in their
station. The conspirators believing this, and thinking they would have
ample time to execute their plans, made no effort to hasten matters,
but remained at their ease, until they found that the consul was moving
one of the two legions to a distance from the other. This arousing
their suspicion, led them to disclose their designs and endeavour to
carry them out.

Now, we could have no more instructive example than this in whatever
way we look at it. For it shows how slow men are to move in those
matters wherein time seems of little importance, and how active they
become when necessity urges them. Nor can a prince or commonwealth
desiring for their own ends to retard the execution of a conspiracy,
use any more effectual means to do so, than by artfully holding out to
the conspirators some special opportunity as likely soon to present
itself; awaiting which, and believing they have time and to spare for
what they have to do, they will afford that prince or commonwealth all
the leisure needed to prepare for their punishment. Whosoever neglects
these precautions hastens his own destruction, as happened with the
Duke of Athens, and with Guglielmo de’ Pazzi. For the Duke, who had
made himself tyrant of Florence, on learning that he was being
conspired against, without further inquiry into the matter, caused one
of the conspirators to be seized; whereupon the rest at once armed
themselves and deprived him of his government. Guglielmo, again, being
commissary in the Val di Chiana in the year 1501, and learning that a
conspiracy was being hatched in Arezzo to take the town from the
Florentines and give it over to the Vitelli, repaired thither with all
haste; and without providing himself with the necessary forces or
giving a thought to the strength of the conspirators, on the advice of
the bishop, his son, had one of them arrested. Which becoming known to
the others, they forthwith rushed to arms, and taking the town from the
Florentines, made Guglielmo their prisoner. Where, however,
conspiracies are weak, they may and should be put down without scruple
or hesitation.

Two methods, somewhat opposed to one another, which have occasionally
been followed in dealing with conspiracies, are in no way to be
commended. One of these was that adopted by the Duke of Athens, of whom
I have just now spoken, who to have it thought that he confided in the
goodwill of the Florentines, caused a certain man who gave information
of a plot against him, to be put to death. The other was that followed
by Dion the Syracusan, who, to sound the intentions of one whom he
suspected, arranged with Calippus, whom he trusted, to pretend to get
up a conspiracy against him. Neither of these tyrants reaped any
advantage from the course he followed. For the one discouraged
informers and gave heart to those who were disposed to conspire, the
other prepared an easy road to his own death, or rather was prime mover
in a conspiracy against himself. As the event showed. For Calippus
having free leave to plot against Dion, plotted to such effect, that he
deprived him at once of his State and life.