Cardinals and Bishops sought to make peace, calling on the protagonists to desist for fear of the Pope’s displeasure; but there was too much noise for them to be heard, and hot-tempered Spaniards and Neapolitans continued to fight.
One Bishop was felled to the ground; another was bleeding at the nose; and Alexander, who could not help laughing inwardly at the sight of his Bishops without their dignity, delayed for a few seconds before, in an authoritative voice, he put an end to the skirmish by threatening terrible punishment to all concerned in it unless they desisted at once.
There was quiet and those who a moment before had been defending and attacking with vigor crept back to their places while Alexander led the bride and the bridegroom to the banqueting table.
But the fight was an omen. There were several present who knew what it indicated. The rumors of a possible marriage between Cesare and Sanchia had been well circulated. It would seem that Sanchia’s supporters had a score to settle with those of Cesare. Could this mean that Cesare, when he obtained his release from the Church would look elsewhere for a bride?
Sanchia’s angry looks supported this theory; as did Cesare’s sly contented ones.
Now the Pope called for music and entertainment behaving as though nothing unusual had happened.
There followed the songs, the dancing and the theatrical performances. During these Cesare appeared dressed as a unicorn, and such was his beauty and dignity that the Pope’s eyes glistened with pride and even Lucrezia turned from her bridegroom for a moment and had eyes for none but her brother.
As Lucrezia danced with her bridegroom, there was an ecstatic air about them both, and not since they had told her of Pedro’s death had she known such pleasure.
Alfonso said as they danced together: “This is the happiest night of my life.”
“I am glad,” Lucrezia told him. “We shall be happy together, you and I, Alfonso.”
“Whatever happens to us we shall have our happiness to look back on,” he said, sober suddenly.
“We shall see that it is always with us,” she told him. “There shall be no looking back … only forward, Alfonso.” She smiled at him tenderly. “You were afraid when you heard you were to marry me, were you not?”
“I had heard tales,” he confessed.
“Evil tales of me. There are always evil tales of my family. You must not believe them.”
He looked into her clear light eyes. He thought: Does she not know? She cannot. And how could she understand … she who is so young and innocent?
“Alfonso,” she continued, “I want you to know that I have been unhappy, so unhappy that I never thought to laugh again. You have heard me laugh, Alfonso, this day. It is the first time for many months, and it is because you have come.”
“You make me so happy.”
“You must make me happy, Alfonso. Please make me happy.”
“I love you, Lucrezia. Is it possible that in three short days one can love so deeply?”
“I hope so. For I think I am beginning to love you too, and I want to be loved … deeply I want to be loved.”
“We will love each other then, Lucrezia … all the days of our lives.”
He took her hand and kissed it; and it was as though they had made a vow as solemn as that which they had taken before the Papal throne.
The Pope, watching them, chuckled and remarked to one of his Cardinals: “It is a shame to keep them from the nuptial bed. Did you ever see two lovers more eager?”
II
DUCHESS OF BISCEGLIE
Those Cardinals who had assembled for the Consistory were uneasy. They were wishing that they had followed the examples of their fellows and pleaded some excuse which would keep them from Rome at such a time.
The Pope, from his Papal throne, had greeted them with his accustomed benevolence, but those who knew Alexander well were aware of the determination beneath the benignity. Once again they would be presented with one of those outrageous demands such as Alexander made from time to time for the sake of his family; they would be faced with the knowledge that they were in honor bound to oppose the Borgia wish, and they knew that they would lack the courage to do so.
They remembered with chagrin the recent divorce when so many of them had been deceived by the innocent looks of Lucrezia Borgia. They were fully aware that the Pope and his family were going to score another triumph over them.
Alexander watched Cesare as he took his stand before the assembly, and did his best to subdue the pride within him. Cesare was right. He was the man made to rule Italy, and he could best achieve his ambitions in freedom from the Church.
In his slender fingers Cesare held the scroll on which Alexander and he had spent so much time, while he begged his fellow Cardinals to give him their attention.
Cesare’s voice was gentle. Alexander had warned him to be humble and, astonishingly, Cesare was obeying his father in this respect. Alexander was a man who must have his way but who always sought to have it peaceably if possible. There he differed from Cesare who was so impatient to achieve his desires that he often did not care how he did so.
“It was not of my own free will that I entered the Church,” he was saying now. “I have never had a vocation.”
Aware that many eyes were turned upon him, Alexander let his head fall on to his chest in an attitude of dejection as though what his son was saying caused him the utmost pain. In spite of his display of surprise and anguish, all knew of course that it was Alexander’s wish that Cesare should be released, and that he had composed the very words which Cesare was now uttering. They also knew that those Cardinals who refused to act in accordance with his wishes should beware of reprisals.
“My conscience demands that I lay these facts before you,” went on Cesare, “for I see no other course than to appeal to your mercy and goodness, and I trust that in your compassion you will see fit to release me from my vows.”
There was silence. The Cardinals had once more turned their gaze upon the Holy Father, who had now lifted his face so that all could see the concern thereon.
Cesare appealed to the Pope. “Were I free,” he cried, in loud and confident tones, “my life should be dedicated to my country. I would visit the French—from whom we all stand in great danger—and I would give my life to save our country from invasion, and bring peace to the land.”
Alexander spoke then. “That which is asked by the Cardinal Cesare Borgia of Valencia is a grave matter. It demands deep thought and deliberation from this assembly, so that a reply cannot at once be given.”
Cesare retired while the Cardinals discussed his case. There was not a man among them who did not regard the whole procedure as farcical. The Borgia Pope desired Cesare to be released from his vows; and who dared oppose the Borgia Pope?
Cesare went away with a light heart, knowing that before the week was out he would have achieved a lifelong ambition. He would be a soldier leading his armies, free of the restricting influence of the Church.
He came to his sister’s apartments where she was with her husband. Alfonso, the happy bridegroom, involuntarily moved closer to his wife as his brother-in-law came in.
“Ha!” cried Cesare. “The happy pair. Why sister, why brother, all Rome talks of your pleasure in each other. Do they speak truth?”
“I am very happy,” Lucrezia told him.
“We are happy in each other,” added Alfonso.
Cesare smiled his slow sardonic smile and as he looked at the handsome boy, a momentary anger possessed him. Such a boy! Scarce out of the nursery. Smooth-cheeked and pretty! Cesare’s once beautiful skin was marred now and would doubtless remain so for the rest of his life. It was strange that he, who felt that it would not be long before the whole of Italy was at his feet, should thus feel envy of the smooth cheeks of a pretty boy.