The Pope was delighted. He summoned his Cardinals and attendants that he might read the letters to them. He dwelt on the charm of Lucrezia and shook his head sadly because he had not been there to see her.

There were other letters, less restrained than Duke Ercole’s.

“Three times,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh. “Cesare did better, but then this illustrious Don Alfonso is not a Borgia. Thrice is well enough for an Este.”

He was in great good humor. One of his mistresses was pregnant. This showed great virility for a man of seventy-one.

Contemplating this and the triumphs of Cesare and Lucrezia, it seemed to him possible that the Borgias were immortal.


* * *

The morning after the wedding, Lucrezia awoke to find that Alfonso was not with her. It was true then, what she had heard of him. He had, even at such a time, arisen early either to go to some mistress or to his foundry.

What did it matter? She did not love him. This was quite different from her second marriage. She remembered that awakening with a pang of longing which she hastily dismissed, reminding herself of all the misery that marriage had brought her because she had loved too well.

She would not love in that way again. She would be wise. She now bore the title of Duchess of Ferrara, which was one of the grandest in Italy; and she would enjoy her position; she hoped she would bear sons; but she would not be in the least put out by her husband’s mistresses.

She looked about her and saw that those who had remained in the apartment to watch the consummation were now missing; they must have retired with Alfonso. She clapped her hands, and Angela and Nicola appeared.

“I am hungry,” she said. “Have food brought to me.”

They ran away to do her bidding, and after a while came back with food for her. She ate hungrily, but when she had finished she made no attempt to move.

Throughout the castle the wedding guests were stirring, but still she lay in bed chatting with her women.

Angela reported that Isabella and Elizabetta were already up and were wondering why she did not join them.

“I need a little respite from their constant attention,” she said.

“Hateful pair!” cried Angela.

“I am determined to rest for the whole morning in my bed,” Lucrezia told them. “There will be dancing and festivities for days to come; and, as these will extend far into the night, I intend to rest during the day.”

“What will Donna Isabella say to that?” asked Nicola.

“She may say what she will.”

“Giulio said,” ventured Angela, “that she has always been used to having her own way.”

“Ferrante says,” added Nicola, “that she rules Mantua when she is in Mantua, and Ferrara when she is in Ferrara.”

“And,” said Lucrezia, looking from one lovely face to the other, “it is clear to me that what Giulio and Ferrante say is in the opinion of Angela and Nicola absolutely right.”

Nicola flushed slightly; not so Angela. She had recovered her spirit and had entered into a relationship with the bold and handsome Giulio, which Lucrezia feared might already have gone beyond a light flirtation. Was there any reason why Angela and Giulio should not marry? Angela had been promised to someone else but, as Lucrezia well knew, such arrangements could be broken. In Nicola’s case it was different. Ferrante was the legitimate son of Duke Ercole; there could be no marriage with him for Nicola.

These affairs must—as they most certainly would—settle themselves; but she would at an appropriate moment drop a word of warning to Nicola.

Adriana came in to say that Donna Isabella was coming up to Lucrezia’s apartments ostensibly to bid her good morning but in reality to study her face for what was called signs of “the battle with the husband.” With her came her brothers and some of their young attendants.

Lucrezia knew that, cheated of their horseplay and crude jokes last night, they were determined to enjoy them this morning.

She cried out: “Lock the doors. They shall not come in.”

Adriana looked at her questioningly. “Lock the doors against Donna Isabella and Donna Elizabetta?”

“Certainly,” said Lucrezia. “Make haste and lock all doors.”

So they came and called to her, but she would not let them in.

Isabella, fuming against the arrogance of the upstart Borgia who dared lock an Este door against her, was forced to go away, vowing that she would be revenged.


* * *

In his castle beside the Mincio, Francesco Gonzaga read accounts of the wedding.

From his wife Isabella he heard that Lucrezia was quite pleasant to look at but far from the beauty they had been led to expect. The poor girl looked wan and fatigued when she arrived, and was a great disappointment to all who beheld her. She would have been well-advised to have made her entry into Ferrara after dark. She would have looked so much more charming by the flare of torches.

One of his wife’s ladies wrote in similar strain, stressing Ferrara’s disappointment with the girl, who had turned out to be quite plain after being heralded as a beauty. “It would have been so much better if she had not defied the clear light of day. Everywhere one heard the comment: ‘Compare her with Donna Isabella! There is true beauty. And her garments lack the style and dazzling delight of those of Donna Isabella.’ ”

But Francesco heard reports from other quarters which were not inspired by the malice of his dominating wife.

“Lucrezia Borgia is very pretty indeed; her eyes are light in color and adorable. Her hair is as golden as it is said to be. She is full of vitality, yet serene withal. And although she might appear to be a little too slender this but adds to her grace. She is extremely fragile, wholly feminine and a delight to look upon.”

Francesco grimaced when he read that.

He was remembering the young girl he had met when she was in her early teens. He recalled her dainty charm. He was glad that she was beautiful. He hoped she would prove a match for Isabella.


* * *

During the next few days Lucrezia realized the depth of that enmity which Isabella felt toward her, and it seemed to her that her only friends were those women she had brought with her. Ferrante and Sigismondo were charming to her, but Ferrante was frivolous and Sigismondo was very much under the influence of his family. Duke Ercole had not wanted the match and was anxiously counting the cost of feeding the wedding guests; he was amazed by Borgia extravagance and ready to listen to Isabella’s stories concerning his new daughter-in-law. She might have expected support from Alfonso, but uxorious as he was for part of the night, he was indifferent during the day and seemed scarcely aware of his wife. Lucrezia realized that if she asked for his support against his sister she would receive scant sympathy from him. His thoughts were on his foundry; all she had to concern herself about was getting with child. Alfonso had a horror of sterile women; he could not rid himself of the idea that he was virile enough to overcome infertility, and his favorite mistresses were his fruitful ones.

It was, on the whole, a hostile household, and Lucrezia was glad of her experience and upbringing which was helping her to steel herself against it, and to produce a mood almost of indifference.

She rose late, which was a habit Isabella deplored. She refused to be roused to anger, since she realized that it was her serenity which infuriated Isabella almost as much as her beauty and good taste in clothes.

Each day Lucrezia appeared among the guests in some dazzling gown of her own design which, brilliant as it was, accentuated her elegance; and beside her Isabella seemed coarse and overdressed.

Isabella, furious, determined to discountenance Lucrezia, and during the performance of a comedy, Miles Gloriosus, Isabella began to titter, and her attendants—who always sprang slavishly to do her bidding—joined in the tittering so that it was impossible to hear the actors speak. This was meant as an insult to Lucrezia, for the play was being given in her honor.

Lucrezia sat upright during the performance, looking at the players as though she was unaware of the disturbance.

And, when on the next night the somewhat bawdy Casina was performed, Isabella declared herself to be so shocked by the choice of the play that she would not allow her women (who were notorious for their lechery) to see it; so again Lucrezia sat through the play laughing heartily at the parts which would have amused her father, and seeming quite unaware of Isabella’s disapproval.

But Lucrezia was unhappy, understanding how her sister-in-law was determined to hate her. Her father or Cesare would have gone wholeheartedly into the battle; they would have sought victory over Isabella. Not so Lucrezia, who longed to be loved and had no wish to be anyone’s enemy.

There was yet another disturbing element. Isabella was giving Lucrezia’s Spanish dwarfs costly materials, velvets and brocades, from which garments could be made. She knew how vain the dwarfs were; they were continually longing to wear clothes as fine as their mistress. This, Isabella pointed out to them, they could do; and there would be more presents for them if they would shout “Long live Donna Isabella” instead of “Long live Donna Lucrezia.”

A few days after the wedding Lucrezia declared that she would spend the day in her own apartments, as her hair must be washed and there were letters to be written. Isabella was delighted, for this gave her a chance to win the French ambassador to her side.