She was faced with two alternatives. She could remain loyal to her father and brother and let Sforza go to his death or she could warn Sforza and betray her family.

It was a terrible decision which she had to make. All her love and devotion was at war with her sense of rightness.

Murder! It was a hideous thing and she wanted none of it.

If I let him to go his death the memory of my betrayal would haunt me all my life, she thought.

And if she betrayed Cesare and her father! They would never trust her again; she would be shut out from the trinity of love and devotion on which she had come to rely.

So she lay, sleepless, asking herself what she must do, rising and going to the Madonna’s shrine, falling on her knees and praying for help.

There was no help. What she did must be her own decision.

Cesare was coming in the afternoon to tell her of his plans, and she knew that before that time she must have decided which course she was to take.


* * *

She sent one of her women for Giacomino, Sforza’s chamberlain.

As Giacomino stood before her she thought how handsome he was; there was an honesty in him which was apparent, and she knew that he was her husband’s most faithful servant.

“Giacomino,” said Lucrezia, “I have sent for you that I may talk to you for a while.”

Lucrezia was aware of the little lights of alarm which had sprung into the young man’s eyes. He believed that she found him attractive, for doubtless many women did, and she felt that she was making matters very difficult; but this was her plan and she must carry it out, since she saw no other way out of her dilemma. Giacomino stood before her with bowed head.

“Do you long to return to Pesaro, Giacomino?”

“I am happy to be where my lord is, Madonna.”

“Yet if you could choose, Giacomino?”

“Pesaro is my home, Madonna, and one has an affection for home.”

She nodded and went on to talk of Pesaro. She was thinking, He is bewildered, this good Giacomino, and I must go on talking, even though he may believe that I am seeking to make him my lover.

Giacomino had taken the stool she had indicated. He seemed to grow more miserable with every passing moment, as though he were already wondering how he, his master’s most loyal servant, was going to repulse her. But at length she heard the sound for which she was waiting, and greatly relieved, sprang up, crying: “Giacomino, my brother is on his way here.”

“I must go at once, Madonna,” said the agitated Giacomino.

“But wait. If you leave through the door he will see you, and my brother would not be pleased to see you here, Giacomino.”

What fear Cesare inspired in everyone! The young man had grown pale, his discomfort turning to terror.

“Oh Madonna, what shall I do?” stammered Giacomino.

“I will hide you here. Quick! Get you behind this screen and I will place these draperies over you. If you keep perfectly still you will not be discovered. But I implore you to be as still as you possibly can, for if my brother were to discover you in my apartments …”

“I will be still, Madonna.”

“Your teeth are chattering, Giacomino. I see you realize full well the dangerous position in which you find yourself. My brother does not like me to receive young men in friendship. It angers him. Oh, do take care, Giacomino.”

As she spoke she was pushing him behind the screen and arranging the draperies over him. She looked at her work with satisfaction; the chamberlain was completely hidden.

Then she hurried to her chair and was sitting there assuming a pensive attitude when Cesare came into the room.

“Lucrezia, my dearest.” He took both her hands and kissed them, as he smiled into her face. “I see you are prepared for me, and have arranged that we should be alone.”

“Yes, Cesare, you have something to say to me?”

“It was dangerous to talk last night in the streets, sister.” He went to the window and looked out. “Ah, the revelries still continue. The mumming and masquing goes on. Is Giovanni Sforza out there in the streets this day, or is he moping in his apartment dreaming of dear dull Pesaro?”

“Dreaming of Pesaro,” said Lucrezia.

“Let him dream while he may,” cried Cesare grimly. “There is not much time left to him for dreaming.”

“You refer to the plans you have made for him?”

“I do, sister. Oh, it has maddened me to think of you with that provincial boor. He deserves to die for having presumed to marry my sweet sister.”

“Poor Giovanni, he was forced into it.”

“You yearn for freedom, dearest sister, and because I am the most indulgent brother in the world, I long to give you all you desire.”

“You do, Cesare. I am happy when I am with you.”

Cesare had begun to pace the floor.

“Our father and I have not told you of our plans before. This is because we know you to be young and tender. You were ever one to plead for the meanest slave who was in disgrace, and ask that punishment be averted. It may be, we thought, that you would plead for your husband. But we know that you long to be free of him … even as we long to see you free.”

“What do you plan to do, Cesare?” asked Lucrezia slowly.

“To remove him.”

“You mean … to kill him?”

“Never mind how we do it, sweet sister. Before long he will cease to worry you.”

“When do you propose to do this deed?”

“Within the next few days.”

“You will ask him to a banquet or … will it be that he meets his assassins by night in some dark alley near the Tiber?”

“Our little Sforza is not without friends,” said Cesare. “I think a banquet would suit him better.”

“Cesare, there is talk of a poison which you use—cantarella. Is it true that the secret is known only to you and to our father, and that you are able not only to kill people but decide on the day and even hour of their death?”

“You have a clever brother, Lucrezia. Does it make you happy to know that he puts all his skill at your disposal?”

“I know that you would do anything in the world for me,” she told him. She moved to the window. “Oh Cesare,” she went on, “I long to go out into the streets. I long to mingle with the revelers as we did last night. Let us ride out to Monte Mario as we did in the old days, do you remember? Let us go now.”

He came to her and laid his hands on her shoulders. “You want to feel the air on your face,” he said. “You want to say to yourself, Freedom is one of the greatest gifts life can offer, and soon it will be mine!”

“How well you know me,” she said. “Come, let us go now.”

Only when they had left the Palace could she breathe freely. She was astonished at the cleverness with which she had been able to play her part.

Every minute had been fraught with terror that something would betray the presence of a third party in the room; and even more terrifying had been the constant thought: Cesare, my dearest, my beloved, I am betraying you.


* * *

Giacomino extricated himself from the draperies and made all haste to his master’s apartments. He was breathless and begged Giovanni Sforza to see him privately.

“My lord,” he stammered as soon as they were alone, “Madonna Lucrezia sent for me, I know not why, unless it was to give me some message to bring to you, but while I was in her apartments Cesare Borgia arrived and Madonna Lucrezia, fearing his anger, forced me to hide behind a screen. There I heard that he and the Pope are planning to murder you.”

Sforza’s eyes dilated with terror.

“I suspected it,” he said.

“My lord, there is not a moment to spare. We must leave Rome with all speed.”

“You are right. Go prepare the strongest horses we have. We will set out at once for Pesaro. Only there can I be safe from my murderous relations.”

So Giacomino obeyed, and in less than an hour after the chamberlain had heard Cesare and Lucrezia talking together, he and Sforza were riding at full gallop out of Rome.


SAN SISTO

The Pope and Cesare were annoyed by Sforza’s flight. Already the news was being whispered throughout Rome that he had fled because he feared the dagger or the poison cup which the Borgias were preparing for him.

“Let him not think to escape,” raged Cesare.

Alexander was serene.

“Calm yourself, my dear son,” he said. “The only matter which concerns us is his separation from your sister. He is suspicious of our feelings toward him. It would be dangerous now to go the way we planned. There is only one course left open to us. I do not like it. As a Churchman I find it distasteful. The other would have been so much more convenient. I fear, Cesare, that we are left with divorce.”

“Well then, let us set about procuring it as soon as possible. I have promised Lucrezia her freedom and I intend her to have it.”

“Then let us study this matter of divorce. There are two alternatives, as I see it. First we could declare that the marriage was invalid because Lucrezia had never been released from a former entanglement with Gasparo di Procida.”

“I fear, Father, that that would be difficult to prove. Lucrezia was released from that betrothal, and there would be many to point to the proof of this. We should have Ludovico and Ascanio coming to their kinsman’s aid if we put forward such a reason.”

“You are right there, my son. That leaves us the other alternative. We will ask for a divorce on the grounds that the marriage has never been consummated.”