CHAPTER XXI.
Rome, still grand even in her ruin, was in the hands of Charles ofFrance. He had never in his life seen a stroke stricken in actualwarfare, except at the insignificant town of Vivizano; he had nevermade a conquest more important than that of a village, nor obtained avictory over more than a score or two of men, and yet he felt himselfalmost on a par with Charlemagne when he stood in Rome exercising allthe powers of an emperor. "He suited his corps de gardes and placedhis sentinels in the squares of the noble city," says Old Brantome,"with many rounds and patrols, planted his courts of justice withgallowses and whipping-posts in five or six places; requisitions weremade in his name; his edicts and ordonnances were cried and publishedwith the sound of the trumpet as in Paris. Go find me a King of Francewho has ever done such things, except Charlemagne; and even he, Ithink, proceeded not with an authority so proud and imperious."
The morning dawned and found Charles in possession, full and entire,of all Rome, except the Castle of St. Angelo; and what is of moreimportance than the mere fact of being in full possession, he was sowith the cordial assent of the whole Roman people. They had groanedunder oppression and wrong for years, and the very fact that theoppression was exercised by the most despicable of men, had driven theiron deeper into their souls. Any change was to them a deliverance;and so strongly was this felt, that when at daybreak some women stoodto gaze at the corpse of a robber who had been caught and hanged byhis provosts in the night, they shrugged their shoulders, with alaugh, saying, "No more robbers now."
Not long after that early hour, and not far from the spot where someof the orations of Cicero were poured to the admiring people, a younggentleman, in the garb of peace, but with sword by his side and daggerin his girdle, walked slowly up and down, as if waiting for some one,and presently after a small man, in a monk's gown, whom Lorenzo hadonce seen before, came up, and saluting him led him away in thedirection of some buildings, at that time appropriated to the use ofdistinguished visitors or great favourites of the Papal Court.
They were not unwatched, however; for from behind an old column whichstood there not many years ago--it may stand there still for aught Iknow--glided out the figure of our friend Antonio, and followed themat some distance, keeping in the deep shade cast by the rising sunupon the eastern side of the street. His keen sharp eye was fixed uponthem with a suspicious and even anxious look; "By my faith," he said,"good old Master Esopas was right when he warned us not to warmvipers. I fear me still that one which I helped to save when he wastolerably well frost-bitten, will some day turn and bite me, or, whatis worse, bite young Lorenzo. Perhaps I had better warn his youthfulknighthood. He is mighty docile for a young man, and will take a hintfrom me. But then he knows I love him, and that is the secret of it, Ido believe; for love's a rarity as this world goes, and, poor boy,having neither father nor mother, who is there to love him butAntonio. By Hercules! I had forgotten the signorina. I am half jealousof the girl, and the only way I can manage to escape being so quite isto love her myself. Ha! they are stopping at that gate; Ramiro lodgesthere for a score of ducats. Well, well, I will even go in after them,and have a chat with my friend the friar. It is well the holy manshould know that he has an intimate acquaintance near."
By this time Lorenzo and the monk had disappeared under the archwayand ascended a staircase on the right. It was dirty and dark enough,but the door at the top led into a suite of rooms of almost regalsplendour and oriental luxury. The first and the second chambers werevacant; but in the third Ramiro d'Orco was walking up and down withslow steps, and his stern, thoughtful eyes bent upon the ground. It isprobable that he had heard the step of Lorenzo from his firstentrance; but he was one of those men who never show emotion of anykind, whatever they may feel--men who are never known to start; and itwas not till the young man and the friar were quite near that he evenlooked up.
"Welcome to Rome, Lorenzo," he said, without embracing him as mostItalians would have done, or giving him his hand as an Englishmanwould not have failed to do. "Friar, you may leave us, and do not letus be interrupted. Sit, Lorenzo, sit! Will you rest on that pile ofcushions or on that stuffed dais--stuffed with the inner down of somestrange northern bird?"
"I thank you, Signor d'Orco," replied Lorenzo, "but I have been latelytaught to sit and lie hard enough. You have, indeed, every sort ofluxury here."
"Do not call them mine," said Ramiro, with a bitter smile. "Theybelong to my landlord, the holy and noble Cardinal Borgia. Men proposeto themselves different objects in life, young sir. Some judge ourshort space here was given only for enjoyment; others, again, think itshould be a time of active enterprise; one man seeks glory; anotherpower; another wealth. They mostly imagine that they are only, inevery object, seeking a means to an end--the covetous will enjoy hiswealth hereafter--the ambitious only desires power to benefit hisfriends or crush his enemies--but they deceive themselves. Only C?sarBorgia and I admit the naked truth. He says enjoyment in life. I sayambition is enjoyment. But an ambitious man must not sit on softstools. There is my common seat," and he drew towards him an oldwooden chair of the rudest and most uneasy form.
"So," he continued abruptly, after they were seated, "you have notbrought Leonora with you."
"My lord, the matter was decided without me," replied Lorenzo; "theCardinal of St. Peter's, your near relation, judged that this was nota fit place for her: but I will not conceal from you that I shouldhave brought her with great reluctance, though every hour of hercompany is dearer to me than the jewels of a monarch's crown."
"The cardinal was right, and you were right," said Ramiro d'Orco, andplunging into thought, remained silent for several minutes, thenlooking calmly up in Lorenzo's face he said, "You are not marriedyet?"
"Assuredly not, my lord," said the young man, with his cheek somewhatburning from a consciousness of thoughts--nay, of wishes, if notpurposes--which had come and gone in his own heart. "You gave yourconsent to our betrothal, but not to our marriage."
Ramiro d'Orco's eye had been fixed upon him with a cold steadfast gazewhile he spoke, and the colour in his cheek still deepened.
"I have placed great confidence in you, Lorenzo Visconti," saidLeonora's father. "I do not believe you would abuse it. I do notbelieve you would wrong her or wrong me. See that you do not."
"I am incapable of doing either, Signor Ramiro," replied Lorenzo,boldly. "I may sometimes have thought for a brief moment, that theonly mode of removing some difficulties that presented themselves tous, was to take your consent for granted and unite my fate to hers bya tie which would give me a right both to direct and protect her; butthe half-formed purpose was always barred by remembrance of the trustyou had reposed in me; and Leonora herself can testify that I nevereven hinted at such a course."
Ramiro d'Orco again paused in silence for a moment, and then said,"Lorenzo Visconti, I have loved you well from causes that you knownot. Listen for a moment; there are some men who are so formed that akindness received or a wrong endured is never forgotten. They areperhaps not the best men in the world's opinion, they have theirfaults, their frailties; they may commit sins, nay crimes, accordingto the world's estimation---they may be considered cold, selfish,unprincipled; but the waters of these men's hearts have in them apetrifying power which preserves for ever the memories of other men'sacts towards them. They cannot forgive, nor forget, nor forbear likeother men. A kind word spoken, a good act done towards them in timesof difficulty or danger will be remembered for years--ay, for longyears--twenty? more than that; and a wrong inflicted will equally cutinto the memory and will have its results, when he who perpetratedwill himself have forgotten it. I am one of those men, Lorenzo; and,though I speak not often of myself, I would have you know it. But letus talk of other things," he added in a less severe and serious tone."Now tell me truly, did you not think when I told Leonora to come onto Rome, that I had changed my purposes towards yourself, or that, atleast, they were shaken; that some more wealthy match presenteditself, or some ambitious object led me to withdra
w my approbation ofyour suit? You doubted, you feared--was it not so?"
As he spoke another person entered the room with a gliding but statelystep. He was dressed richly in a morning robe of precious furs, andhis remarkably handsome person was set off to every advantage by thearrangement of the hair, the beard, and the garb. Ramiro d'Orco onlynoticed his coming by rising and inclining his head, while the othercast himself gracefully down upon the pile of cushions, and began toeat some confections which he took from a small golden box.
Almost without pause, Ramiro proceeded: "Did you not think so? Youwere wrong, Lorenzo, if you did. I have consented to your marriagewith my daughter, I wish your marriage with her. I here, in thepresence of this noble prince, give my full consent, and had youbrought her on here, I would have joined your hands ere you go hence.But it is well as it is. And now let us again to other objects; mylord cardinal, your Eminence wished to see my young friend here."
"He is very handsome," said C?sar Borgia; for he it was who lay uponthe cushions. "He is very handsome, and I am told that the SignoraLeonora is very beautiful, too--nay, a marvel of loveliness--is it notso?"
"In my eyes certainly," said Lorenzo drily, for there was something inthe tone of the man he did not like.
"Marry her soon--marry her soon," said C?sar Borgia, "a peach shouldalways be tasted ere it is too ripe. I envy you your privileges, sir.I who am bound to a sour life of celibacy, may well think you happywho are free and blessed."
Lorenzo rose and raised his bonnet from the floor where he had castit, as if to depart.
"Stay, stay," said Ramiro d'Orco, "these French-bred gentlemen, mylord cardinal, are very touchy upon some points. They understand nojests where their lady loves are concerned. We in Italy, andespecially you in Rome, are somewhat too light-tongued upon suchmatters."
"Well, then, let us talk of other things," cried Borgia, starting upwith a look entirely changed, the soft, indolent, almost effeminateexpression gone, the eye fiery and the lips stern and grim. "You areright, Ramiro: we are too light-tongued in such matters. I meantnot to offend you, sir, but as yet you are unaccustomed to ourmanners here. I wished to see and speak with you from the reportsI have heard of you. You have, I think, served the King of Francewell---marvellously well for one so young. I have heard of your doingsat Vivizano, and I have heard moreover that you are high in thepersonal esteem of Charles of France himself. Nay, more, it seems, bywhat means I know not, but they must be extraordinary, for scripturesays the deaf adder stoppeth her ears and will not heart she voice ofthe charmer--it seems, I say, that by some means, you have won theconfidence of Julian of Rovera, an enemy of me and of my father'shouse. With both this cardinal and this king you must haveopportunities of private communication."
He kept his eye fixed upon Lorenzo's face while he spoke, markingevery change of expression, and probably adapting his discourse to allhe saw there; for no man was ever more terribly endowed with thatserpent power of persuasion which bends and alters the wills andopinions of others, not by opposing force to force, but by instillingour thoughts in the garb of theirs into the minds of even ouropponents. By that power how many did he bring to destruction, howmany did he lure to death!
"I wish not," he continued, "to lead you to do or say aught that canbe prejudicial to the King of France. I know that you are incapable ofit; but it is for that very reason I have desired to see you. I seekno communication with those whom I can buy, and who the day after willsell themselves to another. I desire to address myself to one eager toserve his lord, and who will dare to tell him the truth, even if it befirst spoken by the mouth of an enemy. Such a man I believe you to be,Signor Visconti, and therefore I sought this interview. Now, sir, KingCharles is surrounded with men who will not let the truth reach hisears. You may ask why? what is their object? I will tell you. Theyhave Rome in their power. My father, it is true, is safe up there--butstill Rome is theirs; and, if they can but prevail upon the King ofFrance, by false statements--by cunning persuasions--by thesuppression or distortion of facts--to use his advantage ungenerously,they calculate upon forcing his Holiness to buy them wholesale. Ay,buy them, sir; for there are not two in all the king's council whocannot be bought--by benefices, by gold, by estates, by dignities.This is the reason they keep the truth from the monarch's mind; forthey well know that, if his position and his duties were once clearlystated to him, full peace and alliance would soon be re-establishedbetween the crown of France and the Holy See; and they would bedeprived of the power of extracting from my father the last ducat inhis treasury, the last benefice in his gift. Do you understand me?"
"Methinks I do," answered Lorenzo, who had seen good reason to believethat Borgia's view of the characters of the French counsellors was notfar from the truth. "But what is it, your Eminence, that the King ofFrance should know that he does not know? He has about his person manya clear-sighted military man who is competent to perceive the truthand too honest to conceal it."
"Not exactly, my young friend," replied the cardinal; "the truth isnot always so easy a thing to find as you imagine. The negotiators, atall events, have the king's ear--civilians or ecclesiastics--all. Weknow not that these military friends of yours have discovered thewhole truth; or, if they have, that they have revealed it. Now, what Iwish is, that you--you, Lorenzo Visconti, should learn the wholetruth, and should seize the very first opportunity of telling it tothe king. I will give you a correct and accurate statement of the trueposition of affairs--at least, as I see them. If I am wrong, your ownclear mind will detect the error: for, of course, though I cannotpretend to speak without some prejudice, you can have none. An Italianby birth--about to wed an Italian lady, many of your sympathies mustbe with us, while gratitude and education afford a fair counterpoisein favour of France. But listen to my statement."
He then went on with the most skilful and artful, but apparently themost unpremeditated eloquence, to set before the young knight atotally different view of the questions between Alexander and the Kingof France. He dwelt long and severely upon the scandal to allChristendom exhibited by the eldest son of the Church--a title ofwhich French monarchs had ever been proud--forcing his way into theholy city, contrary to the repeated injunctions of the Church's head.He asked if it were the part of one who pretended and hoped to driveback the wave of Mahomedan invasion from Europe and plant the Crossitself in Constantinople, to commence his enterprise by setting atnought the power and authority of the Vicar of Christ, driving himfrom his home to take refuge in a fortress, to despoil him of hismeans, and to trample on his dignity. "They speak ill of his Holiness,indeed," continued Borgia, "they calumniate him and misrepresent allthat he does. Let us even admit, however, all that they say againsthim, that he has the passions which afflict all men of ardenttemperaments--that he has at times indulged the propensities common toall men--that he has done openly, in short, and without hypocrisy, allthat his predecessors have done covertly and hypocritically--that hecalls his son his son, and not his nephew--never forgetting, however,that all these faults occurred before his elevation to the holy see;but granting all, admitting every charge, I will ask you, Lorenzo, ifthese faults of the man, which affect not the holy office, are sogreat a scandal to the Church as to see the first of--I had almostsaid pretended--the first of Christian monarchs set at nought theauthority, oppress the person, and plunder the property of therepresentative of the apostles? But I have dwelt too long upon thisaspect of the question. Perhaps it does not affect you; it may notaffect the King of France, and I did not intend to speak of it atlength. I meant to deal with the political view of the case--of thatwhich touches the king's material interests, and I now turn to that."
The bright, comprehensive, and sagacious picture which he now drew ofthe actual position and future prospects of the King of France, wasperhaps unequalled by any of the most splendid efforts of the man withwhom Macchiavelli himself found it hard to cope; and well might one soyoung and inexperienced as Lorenzo have been carried away by hiseloquence, even if there had not been much tr
uth in the details, muchaccuracy in the reasoning. But there was far more of both than offalsehood or rhetoric. He stripped the position of the King of Francefrom its fictitious splendour: he painted him as in the midst of aforeign country, with no communications open behind him, without afleet, and with an exhausted treasury, without a sincere friend inItaly, with a resolute enemy before him, and without one faithful allybehind. He showed and asserted he could prove that Ludovico Sforza wasbusily weaving the web of a confederation against him; that the Dukeof Ferrara was already gained; that the Venetians were arming inhaste, and that Florence was eager to avenge the humiliation she hadreceived, by giving aid to the league; that even the Emperor and theKing of Spain, though bought off for a time by sacrifices disastrousto France, showed signs already of wavering in their faith to theyoung king, and were only true to their policy of treachery.
"This splendid army will melt away," he continued, "by battle anddisease; while that of the league against you will increase everyhour. Where will you draw reinforcements? how will they reach you ifthey can be raised at all? To your enemies men will flow in from everyquarter, and will find all roads open. The remnants of the greatcompanies will easily be gathered together, all men practised inwarfare under leaders of consummate skill. The Albanian bands of theVenetians will sweep the country of its provisions, and put a desertbetween you and France. What the sword spares, famine and pestilencewill slay, and an expedition begun with festivals and successes willend in disaster and tears.
"Show me where I am wrong, and I will admit it; but this, SignorVisconti, is my view, and I give it you plainly and sincerely. Now youmay ask what I would deduce from all this?--that the King of Franceshould desist from his enterprise, and return with defeat and disgraceto his own land? Far from it; I would have him push on to Naples withall rapidity, before the plans of his enemies are mature, or theirpreparations made. He may subdue that kingdom rapidly, and with thecommand of the sea coast, and a new and defensible position, set hisfoes at defiance till his army can be recruited and reinforced. But Iwould not have him stay here and waste time, every moment of which isprecious, in trying to humble a pontiff whom he is bound to reverence,or destroy a sovereign who is ready to be his friend. If such madnessseizes him he is lost. How much better, at no loss of honour or ofinterest, but merely by that reverence for the Church, which, as aChristian king, he is bound to show--how much better to have afriendly power, though perhaps a weak one, between him and the enemiesin his rear!"
"But what surety has the king that this will prove a friendly power,"asked Lorenzo, "that these Roman States--this very city will not bearmed against him as soon as he has passed on?"
"The pope will give him securities," said C?sar Borgia, promptly,although a slight shade had come over his brow while the young manspoke. "He shall have ample guarantees; such fortresses to hold aswill ensure him against that danger; and as for myself, I care not ifI go as a hostage with his forces."
Lorenzo paused, and thought without reply, and Borgia added, "Naymore, Zizim shall be given into his hands, though perchance that actmay bring down the wrath of Bajazet upon Italy, and we may again seeour coasts ravaged by Turkish fleets."
"And who is Zizim?" asked Lorenzo, in surprise.
"It matters not," replied Borgia, "but whisper that name in the king'sear--only say you have somewhat to tell him regarding Zizim, and hewill give eager audience to all the rest."
"But I must also tell him on what authority I speak," said Lorenzo.
"Do so!" exclaimed C?sar Borgia, at once, "let him know that you haveseen me in company with this good lord who sits silent here, who knowsthe truth of every word I speak."
"I do," said Ramiro d'Orco; "and moreover as you may want proof of thecorruption in the king's council you have heard of, give this smallpacket, my son, to the good Bishop of St. Malo--not before you haveconferred with the king, but afterwards--not when the worthy prelatehas company around him; but when he is quite alone."
Lorenzo took the small paper packet which Ramiro held out, not withoutsome doubts; but it contained something hard and bulky, and evidentlywas not a letter, of which he might have hesitated to be the bearer."Well," he said, at length, "I presume, sir, that you would not putupon me any unbecoming task. But your Eminence spoke somethingregarding the Cardinal of St. Peter's. What do you desire that Ishould say to him?" he continued, addressing Borgia.
A sort of spasm passed over C?sar's face, and he kept his teeth firmlypressed together for a moment; but when he answered it was with acalm, though stern voice, "Tell him that no cardinal who dethrones asupreme pontiff ever becomes pope. His holy brethren know him toowell. That is all I have to say to him--and now my task is over," hecontinued, throwing himself back upon the cushions, "let us taste somewine. Will you drink, Signor Lorenzo?"
The young lord excused himself, and shortly after took his leave.
"Too young, I fear me," said Ramiro d'Orco, as Visconti quitted theroom.
"All the better," replied Borgia, languidly, "we must work with allkinds of tools, according to our objects, Ramiro--women, valets, boys,wise men. A wise man would not suit me now, for he would conceal halfthat he has heard. This youth will tell it all, and that is what Idesire."
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