There was one drawback to this. On account of his post in the Church he was in the pay of the Pope; and although as a Sforza he worked for Milan, his kinsman Ludovico, preparing for invasion of which he knew he must be one of the first victims, had little time or money to spare for Giovanni. Therefore Giovanni’s income from Milan had not been paid for some time and, if he disobeyed the Pope by keeping his daughter from him, how could he expect his income from the Papacy to be paid?

Giovanni was a perplexed man during those weeks of festivities when Lucrezia and Giulia were flaunting their fine clothes and splendor at his provincial court.

Alexander understood his son-in-law perfectly. A meek man, a coward of a man, thought Alexander; the kind of man whom he despised. He knew that Giovanni was cowering in Pesaro, far from the impending conflict, and hoped to stay there keeping Lucrezia from her father.

That should not be; and, since if Giovanni decided to keep his wife at his side it would be a most delicate matter for the Pope to demand her return, Alexander arranged that Giovanni Sforza should be given a Neapolitan Brigade, and sent orders to Pesaro that he should at once set out to take over his command.

When Giovanni received this communication he was dumb-founded.

He strode into Lucrezia’s apartment and demanded that she read the despatch from Rome.

“To leave at once … for Naples,” read Lucrezia. “You … Giovanni … to go to Naples? But your family and the Neapolitans have always been enemies.”

“That is so,” cried Giovanni. “What is your father planning? Does he wish to destroy me?”

“How could he wish to destroy my husband when he declares his greatest pleasure is in pleasing me?”

“Perhaps he thinks that by destroying me he would not displease you.”

“Giovanni!” Lucrezia’s wide eyes were imploring him to say no more. She greatly feared scenes such as this.

“Oh yes,” stormed Giovanni. “He wants you back with him. He cannot exist without you. Is that not what he says? Do you think I do not understand why? Do you think I am a fool?”

“He is my beloved father, it is true.”

Giovanni laughed aloud. “Your beloved father! That is amusing. The whole of Italy laughs. The Pope is the beloved father of Madonna Lucrezia, and he yearns to shelter her beneath the apostolic robe.”

“Giovanni, you are hysterical.”

It was true. Giovanni was terrified. He saw himself caught in the Papal web. His relatives in Milan had no time for him; his father-in-law, the Pope, wished him out of the way; therefore he was to be sent to the enemies of his family. What would become of him?

“I shall refuse to obey the Pope’s commands,” he said. “Does he think I do not see what they mean?”

“Oh, Giovanni,” said Lucrezia, “you would be ill-advised to disobey my father.”

“You would advise me to obey, would you not! You would say ‘Go to the Neapolitans. Accept this command with them. You are a Sforza and sworn enemy of the Neapolitans, but go, go … because my father wishes you out of the way, so that I may return to him … and that I may live close to him, and the rumors may grow and grow … and grow.…’ ”

He began to laugh, but his face was twitching with fear.

She sought to calm him; but he only shouted: “I shall not go—do you hear me? I shall not go.”


* * *

There was further trouble. News came from Capodimonte, Giulia’s native town, that her brother Angelo was very ill and the family believed that he could not live.

Giulia was distraught. She was very fond of her family, particularly her brothers Angelo and Alessandro.

She came to Lucrezia, and never in the course of their friendship had Lucrezia seen Giulia so distressed.

“It is news from my home,” Giulia explained.

“My dearest Giulia, how sorry I am!” cried Lucrezia. “We must pray that all will be well.”

“I must do more than pray,” Giulia told her. “I shall go to him. I cannot let him die without seeing him again.”

“You remember my father’s orders … We were not to leave Pesaro without his consent.”

“My brother is dying, do you understand? What if Cesare or Giovanni were dying? Would you not go to them?”

“But it is not Cesare, nor Giovanni,” said Lucrezia calmly. “It is only Angelo.”

“He is as much my brother as Cesare and Giovanni are yours.”

But Lucrezia could not concede that. Giulia did not understand the bonds which bound the Borgia family. And the Pope would be angry if Giulia left Pesaro to go to her family.

“Why,” pointed out Lucrezia, “Orsino is at Bassanello, and that is not very far from Capodimonte. You know how my father dislikes you to be anywhere near your husband.”

“I need not see Orsino.”

“But he might come to you. Oh, Giulia, if you value my father’s love, do not go to Capodimonte.”

Giulia was silent. She was torn between her desire to see her brother and her wish to please the Pope.


* * *

Giovanni left for Naples. Lucrezia said farewell to him without any great regret. During the last days she had seen what a weak man she had married, and she longed for the strength which she had always admired in her father and brothers.

Giovanni, furious and humiliated, had decided that as he could not serve the enemies of his family he would pretend to do so and send information to his family as to the moves made by the Neapolitan army. He would be doing dangerous work, and if he were discovered, as a spy he would be in acute danger. But what could he do? How else could he reconcile himself with his family? He was a small ruler of a small community; he was a provincial lord who could not live without the support of his family and the Pope.

Gloom descended on the palace after Giovanni had left. There were no more entertainments; the girls had no inclination for them. They would sit in the apartment, Lucrezia amusing Laura while Giulia watched at the window for a messenger from Capodimonte.

There came a day when that messenger arrived, and the news he brought was grave. Angelo Farnese was on his death-bed; there was no doubt of that; he had expressed a desire to see his beloved sister Giulia who had brought so many honors to the family. That decided Giulia.

She turned to Lucrezia. “I am leaving at once for Capodimonte,” she said. “I am determined to see my brother before he dies.”

“You must not go,” insisted Lucrezia. “My father will be displeased.”

But Giulia was firm, and that day she, with Laura and Adriana, set out for Capodimonte.

Giovanni, Giulia, Laura and Adriana had gone.

What changes, pondered Lucrezia, as she was left in loneliness at Pesaro, were taking place all around her.


* * *

In the Orsini castle at Bassanello, Orsino Orsini was brooding.

Like Giovanni Sforza, he was a weak man. Giovanni could never forget that he belonged to a small branch of the Sforza family and was despised by his wealthier relations; Orsino could not forget that he was small in stature, that he squinted, and that not even humble serving girls were eager for his attentions.

Often he brooded on the way he was treated. It seemed that they had mocked him even more than was necessary by marrying him to one of the most beautiful women in Italy, one who had already become the Pope’s mistress before she was his wife.

It was as though they said: “Oh, but it is only Orsino, and Orsino is of no account.”

His mother even had played a prominent part in his humiliation. “Don’t be silly, Orsino,” she had reproved him. “Think what favors Giulia can make the Pope bestow on you. Riches! Land! They are more profitable than a wife. In any case if it’s women you want there will be many at your disposal.”

La Bella Giulia! She was notorious throughout Italy. The Pope’s mistress! Mother of the Pope’s child! And she was married to Orsino who was never allowed to go near her for fear of offending the Pope!

Orsino swore an oath.

“This is an end to my humiliation. She has left the Pope. She is at Capodimonte and, by all the saints, I swear she shall be my wife in truth. I swear to take her from her lover.”

From his castle he looked out on the little village clustered about the old church with its campanile, six stories high; he gazed at the quiet valley through which the Tiber flowed. About him, all seemed at peace. But if he did what they expected of him he would not long enjoy peace. His family were firm allies of the Neapolitans and he was in command of a brigade. Soon he would have to leave this place and join the Neapolitan camp. Then he would be far away from Giulia and, if the Pope heard she had come to Capodimonte to visit her dying brother, he would not be so disturbed as he would be if he knew that Orsino Orsini was in the neighborhood.

But why should one placate the Pope? Why was it so necessary now? The French were on the way with a mighty army, and it was said that one of their objects would be to depose Alexander. Well then, was there the same need to placate the Pope?

“By the saints, I will have what is mine!” vowed Orsino.

He sent for one of his captains, and when the man came to him he said: “You will take the troops to Umbria. I have orders that they are to proceed there.”

The man acknowledged the order but Orsino saw the astonished look which came into his eyes.

“I am feeling unwell,” Orsino explained. “I feel a fever creeping upon me. I cannot accompany you. I must remain behind for a while.”