CHAPTER XXII.
While the conversation which I have narrated in the preceding chapterwas going on in the rooms above, one of a very different character,though relating to the same topic, took place below. We need not bevery long detained in its detail, but there were certain parts thereinwhich must be related. The scene was a small room near that sort ofbuttery window at which Italian nobles have in all times beenaccustomed to sell or retail the produce of their estates. Theinterlocutors were our friend Antonio and the pretended friarMardocchi, and after the first greetings, the substantial conversationbegan, by the former gently reproaching him of whom he had aided tocheat the cord, with not having visited him when in the French camp atVivizano.
"Ah! how did you know I was there?" asked Mardocchi. "Why, I was onlyone night in all."
"I know everything that happens within a hundred miles of me," repliedAntonio, who had discovered the great benefit of assuming moreknowledge than he possessed, "you had not been five minutes in thecamp before I knew it. But why did you not come?"
"I have told you already," answered Mardocchi. "I was but one night inthe camp, and I got such rough usage from that old cardinal of thedevil, that I was glad to get out by daybreak."
"Ay, he has no smooth tongue, I wot," answered Antonio; "if he lickshis cubs with that when they are born, they will go into the worldskinless. But how liked the excellent Signor Ramiro the answer he gotto his letter?"
"I know little of his liking," answered the other. "He is not like mygood deceased lord, Buondoni, who would tell me this or that, or swearor stamp in my presence as if there were no one there but himself.This man keeps all, or thinks he keeps all, to himself; but one thingI have found out, and that I like him for, because in that he is likemyself. If a man does him a good turn he never forgets it; and if aman does him an injury he does not forget that either."
"I suppose not," replied Antonio, "he is a good lord in many things,and all the wiser for keeping his secrets to himself. In all the worldhe cannot find any one who can keep them as well. Then he did not showany anger when he found the Signora Leonora was not coming?"
"Not a whit," answered Mardocchi; "he only said, 'it is well; it isvery well.'"
The conversation was then turned to other subjects by Antoniodemanding if his companion did not think that the Signor Ramiro hadlaid his egg in a wrong nest when he attached himself to the Borgias.
"Not at all," answered Mardocchi; "they are men who are not afraid ofdoing anything; if one way does not answer they take another; and suchmen are sure to succeed."
He then went on to give his view of the situation of the Pope and theKing of France, to which Antonio, who had come for the purpose oflearning all he could, listened attentively. It was somewhat differentfrom the view of C?sar Borgia, and to say the truth, somewhat moreextended; for he contemplated amongst the pope's resources both poisonand the dagger. Indeed he had not studied under Buondoni withoutimprovement; for he clearly showed Antonio that it would be perfectlypossible to destroy almost all the king's army in Rome by poisoningthe wells.
"But, good Heaven! you would poison all the people likewise!" criedAntonio.
"And no great harm either," said Mardocchi, gruffly: "did you nothear how the beasts last night were cheering and vivaing those Frenchheretics? But if the Holy Father in his mercy chose to spare them, hecould easily do it by sending the monks and priests amongst them totell them which wells were poisoned and which not."
"I forgot that," said Antonio, "and the scheme does seem a feasibleone. But I hope, my dear friar, that if you have recourse to it, youwill let me know where it is safe to drink. I, in return, will promisethat when those who are left of the French army--for I must tell youthat one half of them have had no knowledge of water since theirbaptism--when those that remain sack and fire the city, I will bringyou out as my own particular friend, and save you from being impaledor burned. These French gentlemen who drink nothing but wine are nottender, I can tell you, and if they found their friends die poisoned,you would soon see a pope dancing in the middle of a bonfire, and thewhole College of Cardinals writhing upon lance-heads."
"Oh! they will not try the trick," said Mardocchi, with a countenancesomewhat fallen, "at least, they would try all other measures first. Idoubt not that if his Holiness will give up Zizim to King Charles thatwill settle all differences."
"And who is Zizim?" asked Antonio.
"Why, do you not know?" exclaimed Mardocchi; "that shows the king'ssecrets are well kept in his own camp. Hark ye!" and lowering hisvoice he went on to explain to his companion not only who theunfortunate Zizim was, but the object which the King of France wassupposed to have in view in seeking to obtain possession of hisperson. The tale was full of scandal to Christian ears, but seemed toshock Mardocchi not in the least; and as it was somewhat long, as hetold it, it shall be abridged for the reader's benefit. Zizim was thebrother of the Sultan Bajazet, some indeed say, his elder brother. Atall events he was his competitor for the throne of Turkey. Theirrespective claims had been settled for a time at least by arms. Zizimdefeated, was fortunate enough to escape from the vengeful policy ofthe Ottoman race, and first took refuge, it would seem, with theKnights of St. John at Rhodes. He thence sailed to France, andappeared for a short time at the court of Charles. The pope, however,who was alternately the ally and enemy of every prince around him, atthat time actually contemplated a new crusade, and believed, oraffected to believe, that Zizim, appearing in his brother'sterritories, supported by a considerable force, might subserve hisplans, by destroying the Ottoman dominions. This at least was hisexcuse for inviting the unhappy prince from Paris to Rome. Charlesconsented to his departure, but upon the express stipulation thatAlexander should give him up to France whenever he was required. Withthe usual mutability of the Papal councils at that time, however, buta few months elapsed ere Alexander was the friend and ally of Bajazet,and the life of Zizim was placed in no slight peril. Charles had invain required that the pope should fulfil his engagement by sendingthe Turkish prince back to France. It must not, however, be supposedthat the French king was actuated solely by compassion for theunfortunate exile. He too had ambitious ends to attain, and he tooimagined that Zizim might assist in the execution of his schemes.History leaves no doubt that the conquest of Naples, though theprimary, was not the ultimate object of Charles's expedition intoItaly. The wildest of chimeras possessed his brain, and he imaginedthat the whole Turkish empire was destined to fall before hisinefficient means and inexperienced sword. Naples was to be, in fact,but a step to Constantinople. Flatterers and poets combined to raisethe young king's vain intoxication to the highest pitch, and we findone of the latter singing of the conquest of Turkey as an event almostaccomplished.
The pope, however, had very different views. So long as he detainedthe Turkish prince in a sort of honourable imprisonment, a pension offorty thousand gold ducats was his from Bajazet, and as soon as hethought fit to capitalize that annuity by putting Zizim to death,three hundred thousand ducats were promised to him. To take the princefrom him was like tearing out his entrails; but upon that pointCharles was resolute, and Mardocchi, as well as Cardinal Borgia, waswise enough to see that the time was come when the monarch's demandmust be granted.
Such was the tale which had been poured into Antonio's ear, when stepswere heard slowly descending the great staircase, and, on looking out,he perceived his young lord just about to issue from the gates.
So deep was the fit of thought into which all he had heard and seenthat morning had thrown Lorenzo, that he was not aware for some timethat Antonio was near him. He turned over and over in his mind thestatements of Cardinal Borgia. He tried to discover a flaw in hisreasoning--an improbability in his assertions; but all was reasonable,all was probable; and the peril to the king and his army was so clearthat he felt himself bound, even at the risk of being thoughtintrusive, to lay the whole picture, which had been given him, beforethe monarch.
From such thoughts he turned to the consideration of t
he character ofBorgia himself. Strange to say, although he had been at first bothoffended and disgusted by the cardinal's demeanour, the impression nowwas favourable rather than otherwise. Indeed, such was the case withall men brought for any length of time under his fascination. The mostclear-sighted, the most wise, those who knew him best, those who hadmost cause to shun and dread him, fell an easy prey to his serpenttongue, if once they could be brought to listen. Witness the Vitelliand the Orsini, Gravina, and Oliverotto da Fermo, all lead to death byhis specious eloquence.
It is no wonder that one with so little experience as Lorenzo, and whohad no reason to fear or doubt him, but the vague rumours andinsinuations which were current in the various cities through which hehad lately passed, should feel the influence of his extraordinarypowers when brought to bear upon him.
"It is a pity," he thought, "that a man of such boundless energy andability, should give himself up at any time to the effeminate andluxurious habits which he seems to indulge in when not roused toaction."
But Lorenzo little dreamed that the effeminate and luxurious habitswent hand in hand with the darkest vices and the most fearful crimes.The character of the man might puzzle him: it might, and did perhaps,inspire doubt, and even suspicion; but the doubt was unmingled withhorror, the suspicion had no definite form.
He was still deep in thought when a voice close behind him, said:
"You are going wrong, my lord, if you are seeking either your ownquarters or the king's."
"Oh, is that you, Antonio?" said Lorenzo; "I did not know you were sonear. Which way then?"
"To the right, my lord," replied the man; "but indeed, my lord, inthis city you should always know who is so close behind you. I havebeen within stiletto length of you for the last ten minutes."
"But no one will try to hurt me here, Antonio," said his lord. "Ay,here we are! Glide quickly in, see if you can ascertain whether theking has heard mass yet, and if he has, find out if he is alone."
Antonio passed the guard and entered the palace, while Lorenzo spoke afew words with the officer on duty. In a minute or two the manreturned, and answered that the king was quite alone.
"He is waiting for the bishop in his cabinet," said Antonio, "but theprelate is always either long at his sleep or at his prayers, and thechamberlain says he won't be there this half-hour."
"Wait here for me, then," said Lorenzo, and entered.