“Holiness, Holiness,” chanted Giovanni.

“Come,” said the Pope, “tell the lady your name.”

“It is Giovanni.”

“Giovanni what?”

“Giovanni Borgia.”

“Borgia indeed! Never forget that. It is the most important part. There are thousands of Giovannis in Italy, but few Borgias; and that is the name you will be proud to bear.”

“Borgia …!” repeated Giovanni.

“Oh Giovanni,” cried Lucrezia, “did you mind leaving your old home?”

Giovanni’s eyes clouded slightly. “This is a better one,” he said.

“Of a certainty it is,” said the Pope. “It contains His Holiness and the beautiful Madonna Lucrezia.”

“Madonna Lucrezia,” murmured the boy almost shyly.

Alexander picked him up and kissed him.

“There,” he said. “You have seen him.”

“He is to stay here now?”

The Pope nodded. “He shall stay with his Holy Father who loves him, for that is what he wishes.”

Giovanni nodded gravely.

“Now we will return him to his nursery, and then you and I will have a little talk. I would wish you to see how happy he is there, and how well he gets on with his little friend and kinsman.”

So, carrying young Giovanni, the Pope led the way to the nursery, where little Roderigo was seated on the floor playing with bricks which he was trying to build into a tower. When he saw Lucrezia he got to his feet and came stumbling toward her.

She lifted him in her arms and he showed no resentment at her kisses. Then he pointed to Giovanni and said: “Giovanni.”

Lucrezia’s voice was broken with emotion as she said: “So you love little Giovanni?”

“Big Giovanni,” Roderigo reminded her; then his attention was caught by the great ruby she wore in her necklace, and his fingers closed over it and his big eyes started in wonder.

She hugged him and felt the tears rushing to her eyes.

Alexander saw them and said: “Let us leave the children with their nurses. I have something to say to you.”

So they left the nursery and Alexander put his arm about her as he led her back to his apartment.

“You see,” he told her. “I kept my promise. I have sent for him that he may be brought up as one of us.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“I fear I let this break upon you too suddenly. I should have prepared you. But I hoped to give you a great pleasure, and I could not keep the treat hidden any longer. He is a beautiful boy—already I see the Borgia in him.”

She turned to him suddenly and threw herself into his arms. “I’m sorry, Father, but it brings it all back … so vividly.”

He stroked her hair gently. “I know, my beloved. I saw that in your face. And these tears of yours are tears of joy, are they not. You see the boy has been well looked after. You need never worry on that score. I shall give him an estate and titles. He shall be as one of us. Have no fear for his future, Lucrezia. It is in my hands.”

She kissed those hands. “The kindest and most capable hands in the world,” she murmured.

“Their greatest joy is in making happiness for my dear daughter.”

“But Father, he is my son, even as Roderigo is, and it saddens me to have to leave them.”

“True, you cannot take them with you into Ferrara; but you know they are safe here.”

“You wanted your children to grow up round you, Father. I want the same.”

He was silent. “I know this.” Then he smiled brilliantly. “Why should you not have them with you … in time, eh, Lucrezia? I know that you are full of wiles; you are charming and beautiful. When you wanted something of me, did you not invariably get it? Why? Because you were enchanting and I loved you so much that I could not refuse. I doubt not that you will soon learn to get what you want from your husband, as you do from your father.”

“You mean in time I may persuade him to let me have the boys with me.”

He kissed her tenderly. “I doubt it not,” he said.


* * *

It was impossible for the arrival of little Giovanni Borgia to go unnoticed, and the new child at the Vatican became the main source of conversation in certain circles. Who is Giovanni Borgia? was the question of the day. He was given a new title, the Infante Romano.

Alexander was faintly perturbed. The marriage with Ferrara would appear to be settled, but this was not so. Ercole had shown quite clearly that he was not enthusiastic for the marriage; he had bargained for his ducats and honors like a merchant; and Alexander believed he would choose the first opportunity to slide out of the agreement. It was only fear of the Papacy and the present unrest in Italy which made him agree; the arrogant aristocrat thought his family too good for that of the Borgias; in his prim way he recoiled from alliance with a family which had provoked more scandals than any other in Italy. Therefore it was a pity that there should be at this time another scandal—and that concerning a three-year-old child.

Who is the Infante Romano? It was impossible to escape from the question.

Isabella d’Este would be writing to her father, telling him of her belief as to the parentage of the mysterious child. If Lucrezia’s name were mentioned in connection with the child, Ercole might consider he had ample reasons for breaking the marriage agreement.

Alexander then drew up a Bull, the prime motive of which was to legitimize little Giovanni, for he wished this healthy little boy with the flashing dark eyes to be known as a true Borgia, and legitimization was the only means of doing so. The child was, he declared, the son of Cesare, Duke of Valentinois, and a woman of Rome. Cesare, father of so many illegitimate children, would not mind accepting responsibility for another.

The Infante Romano then was the son of Cesare Borgia, and this accounted for the delight the Pope found in the child.

But Alexander was perturbed. He must consider the future, those days when he might not be there to protect the interests of the child. He wished to leave him certain properties; he accordingly drew up another Bull which should remain secret at least for as long as he lived. In this he declared the child to be his own by a woman of Rome. But for the moment he had stifled the rumors. He had given to the world his explanation of his love and care of the child, and the mystery would seem to be solved. The anxious Ercole at least could not use it as an excuse for canceling the wedding plans.


* * *

Meanwhile the King of France was planning his attack on Naples. He knew that, although he might conquer the land, he could not hold it without an investiture and for this reason he wished to placate the Pope. Therefore he had helped Cesare to conquer Romagna, and Cesare was to be his ally in the march on Naples.

Louis had made another shrewd move by forming an alliance with Spain. For certain concessions (the acquisition of Apulia and Calabria) the Spaniards had agreed to stand aside and leave their Aragonese kinsmen of Naples to fight alone.

Louis demanded that Cesare should leave garrisons in the towns he had conquered and join him in the conquest of Naples—which Louis declared was part of their contract. Cesare was furious, for he had been made to see how little his triumphs had been due to himself. He was realist enough to understand that he was under the Papal influence and that of France, and that should these be removed he would stand naked to his enemies.

There was disturbing news from Maximilian who was not pleased by the Franco-Spanish alliance and demanded to know who these Borgias were who had set themselves up as dabblers in European politics. He let it be known that he was considering coming into Italy himself and that he would smash through this petty kingdom of Romagna if only for the pleasure of making it clear to the Borgias that they were nothing but an insignificant family, a member of which happened to have been elected Pope.

It was humiliating, yet there was no help for it but to obey the French and march to Naples. Federico in panic surrendered before the arrival of the soldiers, and Louis offered him exile in France which he gratefully took. Thus, when the French with Cesare and his soldiers came into Naples, there was no battle; Naples was theirs to command, and the people came into the streets to welcome the conquerors.

Humiliation was turned to triumph and Cesare rode in glory through Naples.

Federico was now an exile—that Federico who had refused to allow his daughter to marry a Borgia! It was a moment for which Cesare had yearned for a long time. Moreover there were many who were fascinated by him, and in the processions of victory more eyes were turned on Cesare Borgia than on Louis of France.

There were balls and banquets, and Cesare was the center of attraction at these. There were many women eager to be noticed by him, although news of the massacre of Capua had reached them, and it was said that there had never been such barbaric savagery as that displayed by Cesare Borgia in the Neapolitan campaign, and that many French Captains who had prided themselves on their chivalry had made it known that they did not wish to be thought of as allies of such a man.

Cesare was always at his most brutal when he believed his dignity had been insulted; and every cruelty he perpetrated during that campaign was meant to soothe those wounds inflicted by Princess Carlotta and her father, Federico.

At Capua he had ridden through the town forcing his way into houses wherever he had heard there were beautiful young girls. He was insistent that they should be virgins; therefore it was necessary that they should be of a tender age. He discovered forty of them and demanded that they be taken to Rome, housed in his palace, and kept there to form a harem for his pleasure. His rule was barbaric. Men whom he suspected of insulting him, even by a word, had their tongues cut out, hands cut off and were exposed to public view until they died.