Madonna of the Seven Hills (15 page)

As the brothers
walked away they knew that Lucrezia was at the window watching them.

Cesare said: “That will doubtless make the fool think twice before he speaks slightingly of us again.”

“Did you see him quail before us?” said Giovanni with a laugh. “I tell you, brother, it was all I could do to prevent myself drawing my sword and giving him a prick or two.”

“You showed great restraint, brother.”

“You also.”

Giovanni glanced sideways at Cesare. Then he said: “Strange looks come our way. Have you noticed?”

“We have rarely been seen walking thus amicably together. That is the reason.”

“Before you begin to scowl at me, Cesare, let me say this: There are times when you and I should stand together. All Borgias must do this sometimes. You hate me as my father’s favorite, for my dukedom and the
bride I shall have. The bride is no beauty, if that is any consolation to you. She has a long horse-face. You would fancy her no more than I do.”

“I would take her and the dukedom of Gandia in exchange for my Archbishopric.”

“That you would, Cesare, that you would. But I will keep her, and my dukedom. I would not be an Archbishop even though the Papal throne was to be mine in the future.”

“Our father has a long life before him.”

“I pray Heaven that it is so. But, Archbishop … nay, do not glower so … Archbishop, let us continue this friendship just for one hour. We have our common enemies. Let us consider them as we did the Sforza a short while ago.”

“And these enemies?”

“The accursed Farnese. Is it not a fact that that woman, Giulia Farnese, demands what she will of our father and it is granted her?”

“ ’Tis true enough,” murmured Cesare.

“Brother, shall we allow this state of affairs to continue?”

“I agree with you, my lord Duke, that it would be well to put an end to it.”

“Then, my lord Archbishop, let us put our heads together and bring about that happy state of affairs.”

“How so?”

“She is but a woman, and there are other women. I have in my suite a nun from Valencia. She has beauty, grace and the charm of a nun. She has given me great pleasure. I think I shall put her to the service of my father. I have a Moorish slave also, a dusky beauty. They make a satisfactory pair—the nun and the slave; the one all vestal reluctance, the other … insatiably passionate. We will go to our father, you and I, and we will tell him of the virtues of these two. He will wish to share … and sharing, who knows, he may forget the beautiful Giulia. At least she will not be the sole playmate of his leisure hours. There is safety in numbers; it is when there is one—and rarely any other—that one sees danger ahead.”

“Let us visit him now. Let us tell him of your nun and your slave. He will at least be eager to see them and, if they are all you say … well, it might be that we can loosen the hold of the Farnese on our Holy Father.”

The two young men went across the square to the Vatican while many eyes followed them, marvelling at this new friendship.

It was said
in the streets that one marriage begot another, and this was indeed the case. Giovanni was to make a Spanish marriage; Cesare was for the Church and could have no marriage; Lucrezia was married to Giovanni Sforza; now it was the turn of little Goffredo.

Vannozza, happy with her husband, Carlo Canale, was dizzy with joy. Often her children came to see her and nothing delighted her more than to give intimate little parties for their entertainment. Her talk was mostly of her children; my son, the Duke, my son, the Archbishop, my daughter, the Countess of Pesaro. And now she would be able to talk equally proudly of her Goffredo. He would be a Duke or a Prince very shortly as the Pope was to make a grand marriage for him.

This showed clearly, thought Vannozza, that Alexander no longer doubted that Goffredo was his son. But this was not so; Alexander continued to doubt. Yet he was of the opinion that the more brilliant the marriages he could make for his children, the better for the Borgias generally; he wished he had a dozen sons; therefore it was expedient to thrust aside all doubt and, at least in the eyes of the world, accept Goffredo as his.

The moment was propitious to arrange a new Borgia marriage. Ferrante, the King of Naples, had watched with concern the growing friendship between the Vatican and the Sforzas of Milan.

Alexander, sensualist though he was, was also a clever diplomat. He preferred to be on good terms with the rival houses of Milan and Naples. Moreover, Spain was naturally favorable to the ruling house of Naples, which was Spanish in origin and maintained the Spanish customs at the Court.

Ferrante was aware of the Pope’s desire for friendship and had sent his son, Federico, to Rome with proposals to lay before the Holy Father.

Ferrante’s elder son, Alfonso, who was heir to the throne of Naples, had a natural daughter, Sanchia, and Ferrante’s suggestion was that Sanchia should be betrothed to the Pope’s youngest son. That Goffredo was but eleven years and Sanchia sixteen was no handicap; nor was her
illegitimacy, for illegitimacy was not considered an important stigma in fifteenth-century Italy, although of course legitimate children took precedence over natural ones. Goffredo himself was illegitimate; therefore it seemed a good match.

Little Goffredo was delighted. He came hurrying to Lucrezia, as soon as he heard the news, to impart it to her.

“I, sister, I too am to be married. Is not that great good news? I am to go to Naples and marry a Princess.”

Lucrezia embraced him and wished him happiness, and the little boy ran about the apartment dancing with an imaginary bride, going through the ceremony which he had seen Lucrezia perform with her husband.

Cesare and Giovanni called on their sister, and Goffredo ran to them and told them the news. Lucrezia knew that they had already heard; she was aware of this because of Cesare’s sullen looks. This was another reminder that he was the only one of them who must remain unmarried.

“What a bridegroom you will be!” said Giovanni. “An eleven-year-old bridegroom of a sixteen-year-old bride who is, unless rumor lies … but no matter. Your Sanchia is a beauty—a great beauty, my brother—so whatever else she may be she will be forgiven.”

Goffredo began to walk about the apartment on his toes to make himself look taller. He stopped suddenly, his eyes questioning; then he looked toward Cesare.

“Everybody is pleased,” he said, “except my lord brother.”

“You know why he is ill-pleased, do you not?” cried Giovanni. “It is because as a holy man of the Church there can be no bride for him.”

Goffredo’s face puckered suddenly, and he went to Cesare. “If you wish for a bride, my lord,” he said, “I would give you mine; for I should find no pleasure in her if by possessing her I should cause you pain.”

Cesare’s eyes glinted as he looked at the boy. He had not known until that moment how firmly Goffredo admired him. The little boy standing there clearly implied that he thought Cesare the most wonderful person in the world; and with Lucrezia and his young brother, to admire him thus, Cesare felt suddenly happy.

He did not care for Giovanni’s taunts. He gloried in his rivalry with Giovanni because he had made up his mind that one day Giovanni was going to pay for every insult, just as any other man or woman would.

“You are a good boy, Goffredo,” he said.

“Cesare, you believe I am your brother … entirely your brother, do you not?”

Cesare embraced the boy and assured him that he did; and Lucrezia watching saw all the cruelty and the hardness leave her brother’s face. Like that, she thought, my brother Cesare is surely the most beautiful person in the world.

Lucrezia longed for peace between them all. They were all together now, and Cesare was delighted by the artless words of the boy. If Giovanni would only join then in their happy circle, they could dispense with rivalry; they could be as she longed to see them, in complete harmony.

“I will play wedding songs on my lute, and we will sing,” she cried. “We will pretend we are already at Goffredo’s wedding.”

She clapped her hands and a slave brought her lute; then she sat on cushions, her golden hair falling about her shoulders; and as her fingers touched the lute she began to sing.

Goffredo stood behind her, and laying his hands on her shoulders sang with her.

The brothers watched them, listening; and for a short while peace was with them all.

Now there was
more merrymaking at the Vatican in honor of the formal betrothal of Goffredo and Sanchia of Aragon which took place in the Pope’s apartments, Federico, Prince of Altamura and uncle of the bride, taking her place. This was conducted in the presence of the Pope with all the ceremony of a true marriage.

There was a great deal of merriment because little Goffredo as the husband looked so incongruous beside the Prince who was taking the place of the bride, and ribald comments soon broke out; nor were these checked by the presence of the Holy Father who in fact laughed more heartily than anybody and even added to the quips.

There was nothing Alexander liked better than what he called a good joke, and by good he meant bawdy. Federico, finding himself the butt of all the amusement and being something of an actor, then began to amuse
the company by playing the part of bride with such fluttering of eyelashes and coy gestures that what took place in the Vatican was more like a masque than a solemn ceremony.

Federico continued with his acting at the feasting and balls which followed; it was a joke of which no one seemed to tire, and the fun was increased when a member of Federico’s retinue took an opportunity of whispering to the Pope that he would be even more amused if he had seen Sanchia.

“How so?” asked Alexander. “I have heard she is a beauty.”

“She has beauty, Holiness, to make all others seem plain beside her. But our Prince behaves as a coy virgin. There is nothing coy about Madonna Sanchia … and nothing of the virgin either. She has had a host of lovers.”

The Pope’s eyes glistened with merriment. “Then this makes the joke even better,” he said. He called Cesare and Giovanni to him. “Did you hear that, my sons? Did you hear what was said of Madonna Sanchia, our coy virgin?”

The brothers laughed heartily at the joke.

“I deeply regret,” said Giovanni, “that young Goffredo is to go to Naples, and that Sanchia will not join him here.”

“Ah, my son, I should not give much for poor Goffredo’s chances if she set eyes on you.”

“We should be rivals for the lady,” said Cesare lightly.

“A pleasant state of affairs indeed!” said the Pope. “Mayhap since she is such an obliging lady she would be wife to three brothers.”

“And to their father mayhap,” added Giovanni.

This amused the Pope immensely, and his eyes rested fondly on Giovanni.

Cesare decided then that if ever Sanchia came to Rome she should be his mistress before she was Giovanni’s.

Then his eyes narrowed and he said sharply: “So our little Goffredo is to be a husband. I myself am to be denied that pleasure. It is strange that Goffredo should be married before you, brother.”

Giovanni’s eyes flashed hatred, for he immediately understood Cesare’s meaning.

Alexander was saddened. He turned to Giovanni. “Alas,” he said, “you must soon return to Spain for your marriage, my dear son.”

“My marriage will wait,” said Giovanni sullenly.

“Ah, my son, time does not stand still. I shall be well pleased when I hear that your wife is the mother of a fine boy.”

“In time … in time,” said Giovanni shortly.

But Cesare was smiling secretly. Alexander’s mouth was set along firm lines. When his ambition was concerned he could be adamant, and as Cesare had been forced to the Church so Giovanni would be forced to go to his Spanish wife.

It seemed to Cesare an even better joke than Federico’s miming of Madonna Sanchia. Once he had longed to be in Giovanni’s shoes that he might go to Spain to receive great honors including a Spanish dukedom; he had been forced to stay behind and enter the Church. Now Giovanni wanted nothing so much as to stay in Rome, and he would be forced to leave as certainly as Cesare had been forced into the Church.