The Honour of Savelli: A Romance

  CHAPTER XVII.

  THE VATICAN.

  The next morning I sought an early interview with D'Amboise, andstated to him what had occurred, proposing that I should leave Rome atonce, and await his instructions at any point he should fix. To mysurprise he did not regard the matter in so serious a light, sayingthat a small fine would no doubt settle the matter. "My dearcavaliere," he said, "Our Lord does not desire the death of a sinner,but only his purse. Make your mind easy, but keep a tighter hand onyour men."

  "I shall assuredly do so, your eminence."

  "Another thing. I think you will have to put aside your shyness, andattend me to the Vatican for the next few days. It is extraordinaryhow suspicious the Court here is. They keep a constant watch on me,and on all the suite, and your seclusion, and solitary rides out, havebeen the subject of remark. The ladies too are taking interest in you.In fact I have been specially asked to bring you with me, by MadonnaLucrezia, all owing to a foolish remark made by Strigonia."

  "I am at your eminence's orders."

  "It is a little risk, but I do not want them to think that you areanything but a mere member of my suite. If there were the slightestsuspicion, all my plans would be upset, and the time is at hand now, aday or two at the outside."

  "Thank God! I am eating my heart out here."

  "Courage, cavaliere! It will end soon. By the way, is Bayard right insaying you have enlisted St. Armande?"

  "Yes, your eminence."

  "_Ciel!_ I should not have thought he would have been one for yourpurpose. But that is your affair," and he began to laugh.

  "I have seven good swords behind me, your eminence. The chevalier mayor may not do well; but I could hardly refuse his request."

  D'Amboise made no answer, and our interview came to a close. I would,however, add here that nothing ever came of the burning of the inn. Nocomplaint was ever laid, as far as I could find out, and the mattermight have been an every-day occurrence, so little attention did itexcite. I of course did not know that affairs had reached to such apitch of disorder in Rome, and lived in hourly expectation,notwithstanding the cardinal's speech, of having considerable worryover the revengeful zeal of Jacopo. I took care that no such thing waslikely to occur again, and Master Jacopo was penitent, swearing hewould never give me further cause for annoyance. At the _levee_, thatmorning, St. Armande was, as usual, beside me, and I whispered to himto hold himself in readiness, as the time for our business was athand.

  "I am glad of that," he answered, his face lighting up.

  "I attend the cardinal to-day to the Vatican," I said, by way ofcontinuing the conversation.

  "There will be much going on this evening," he made reply. "TheFlorentine envoy has been here for the past two days, and the affairat the Vatican to-night is in his honour. Do you know that you haveexcited great curiosity in the hearts of the court ladies?"

  "Indeed? It is not my way."

  "Is it not? Well, Lucrezia expressed a particular desire to see you."

  "I trust it may not lead to the Tiber, chevalier. The attentions ofthe Lady Lucrezia are a trifle dangerous."

  His face became very grave.

  "Be civil to her, nothing more," he whispered. "You are quite right.Oh, how I hate that place!"--and he shivered a little.

  "Well, we will soon be out of it."

  "Please God!"

  There was no one at the high table at dinner that day, both thecardinal and Bayard having gone to dine with Sforza at the SforzaCesarini, quite an informal business, and none of the suiteaccompanied them.

  The conversation at our table turned much on affairs, and as therewere for once no guests, speech was very free.

  "The fleur-de-lis will cover our tongues," said Le Clerc, "and to-daywe may let them wag."

  "Then how long is this truce to last?" asked De Briconnet, the captainof the cardinal's guard. "I am sick of this idleness here," he added.

  "As for that, no man knows whether it is peace or war," replied LeClerc. "Tremouille is chafing at Passignano, swearing that the gamewas ours if we had only let him march on after Fossombrone, and he wasright. Now Cesare has stamped out the Magione league, and the Borgiaare as strong as ever."

  "How came such a man as Roderigo Borgia ever to be made pope?" Iasked.

  Le Clerc laughed as he passed on the Orvieto.

  "When our Lord, the sainted Innocent, was called away, there werethree favourites in the conclave. One was Giuliano della Rovere, theother Ascanio Sforza, and the third Roderigo Borgia. His eminence ofSt. Sabine's was our man, and the election would have been certain hadnot Borgia and Ascanio joined hands and the Milanese voted forRoderigo."

  "I did not think Sforza would have been so self-sacrificing," said DeBriconnet.

  "There were compensations, Jacques," Le Clerc went on. "Fourmule-loads of gold were given to Ascanio, he was made vice-chancellorof the church, and given Borgia's own palace, the Cesarini, where hiseminence dines to-day. Immediately after the elections were made I wasat the rota exchanging a few words with your uncle, the cardinal ofSt. Malo, and he told me that as soon as the result was known, Mediciturned to Cardinal Cibo, and said, 'We are in the jaws of the wolf!Heaven grant that he may not devour us!' As for Borgia he could donothing but walk about, calling out, 'I am Pope, Pontiff, Vicar ofChrist!'"

  "I do not suppose it can last long," said De Briconnet.

  "Heaven knows. He is close upon seventy-one and grows younger everyday. He is as strong as he was thirty years ago. And there are few menwho can sit a horse as he can, even now."

  "That is true," I remarked, and gave the story of my meeting with theBorgia on the day of my arrival in Rome.

  Shortly after this our dinner, where speech had been so free, brokeup, and, finding out the hour at which the cardinal would require myattendance, I took my book on falconry, and repaired to the garden,intending to pass the afternoon in its perusal. I made for the LemonWalk, and found a companion in Bran, who was wandering there in adisconsolate manner, evidently missing his master. I set myself downon a sheltered seat, Bran stretching out his length at my feet, hismuzzle resting between his paws, and so we remained in quiet, the dogabsolutely motionless, and I engaged in my book.

  So an hour must have passed, when Bran gave a low growl, and lookingup I ran my eye up and down the walk, but could see nothing. I thenfollowed the direction in which the dog was gazing, and through theleaves opposite to me, saw a stretch of green, terminating in a clumpof three huge chestnuts. A further examination showed two figuresstanding in the shade of the trees, one of them was St. Armande, andthe other, his secretary, the abbe. But what surprised me, was thatthe chevalier appeared to be overcome with some powerful emotion, forhe was leaning with his arm against the trunk of the tree, againstwhich his face was pressed, and his figure shook as if he wereweeping. The abbe stood by him, with a look of compassion on hisfeatures, and was endeavouring to pacify him.

  It was clear that I was looking at something I was not intended tosee, and with a low, "Quiet, Bran," to the dog, which the well-trainedbeast instantly obeyed, I rose, and whistling a catch loudly, walkeddown the avenue, with my back towards St. Armande and the abbe, Branstalking by my side. I did not look round, and of course could nottell what happened, but I could not help wondering what it was thataffected St. Armande so strongly. It was hardly the place for theconfessional. Yet it was no business of mine to pry into otherpeople's affairs. So handing over Bran to a lackey of Bayard, I wentup to my apartment, and attempted to resume my interest in my book.

  This, however, was not possible, for in a few minutes I found myselfwith the volume in my lap, my eyes staring into vacancy, and thinkingof St. Armande. I began to try and analyse my feelings towards him,but beyond that I was certain he had inspired me with a strongfriendship I could go no further. It was this friendship that urged meto accede to his request to be allowed to share in my comingadventure, although I was well able to see that he was anything butfitted for
a desperate deed. Still somehow, I could not find it in myheart to refuse him, although I felt I was doing an unwise thing. Iconsoled myself, or rather tried to console myself, with thereflection that he would have to take his chance like any other man ofmy troop, and if he fell, well, there was an end of it, and of him.Yet I was not comfortable, and then, to give my thoughts another turn,I bent them on other matters, and it came to my mind that it was alittle surprising I had not heard of D'Entrangues in Rome.

  When Bayard told me of his petition to the king, I had asked whetheranything was known of D'Entrangues' movements, and he said he did notknow. It was curious, too, how I appeared to have entirely masteredthat mad longing for revenge, which at first held me. It was a directanswer, as it were, to my prayer, and, so thinking, I began to realisehow close in reality a man is to the divine power, which he often, toooften, thinks far from him. And a certain feeling of satisfaction cameupon me at the thought of the strength I had gained by my victory overmyself. Indeed, I felt sure, that if my enemy was in my power at themoment that I would not injure him, but let him go without harm.

  In this manner, attempting to read, and trying to think, without verymuch success in either undertaking, I passed my time until my lackeycame to assist me to dress, in order to be ready to accompany thecardinal to the Vatican. After dressing, I descended the stairs, andmounting Castor, placed myself at the head of my men, and joined DeBriconnet at the grand entrance of the palace. The captain of thecardinal's guard had his full force of thirty swords out, it being areception night of some importance, and with great courtesy allowed meto place Jacopo and my six men in front of his troop, drawing his ownhorse alongside of mine, and discussing, with much cunning, offalconry, in which he was more than an adept.

  We had to wait some little time for the cardinal, but at length hecame, accompanied as usual by Bayard, and with him all the gentlemenof his suite including St. Armande. On reaching the foot of thestairs, D'Amboise enquired somewhat sharply for me; but changed histone to one of pleasant greeting when he saw I was in waiting.

  "St. Dennis!" he exclaimed, "I thought you were not coming after all."

  We had but a few yards to ride, and our passage along the ViaAlessandrina to the Portone Bronse, took but a few minutes. As we rodeup there, we kept the obelisk in the centre of the Piazza di S. Pietroto our left, and saw before us the walls of the new cathedral of St.Peter, then about four or five feet high, the ruins of the old churchstill standing around it. At the time I speak of, nothing had beendone for about fifty years towards advancing the work, begun byNicholas V., and the great design, afterwards altered and put intoexecution by Giuliano della Rovere, when he became Pope as Julius II.,was then in a skeleton form, looking more like the remains of somesacked shrine than the beginning of a new work. The fifty years ofneglect having the effect of making the new work almost as ruinous asthe old church founded by Constantine.

  Although, as I have mentioned, there were to be great doings at theVatican that evening, there was no crowd assembled in the Piazza ofSt. Peter. It was full of soldiers, but the people of Rome, who mighthave been expected to be there in numbers, to see the processionsof nobles and their followers, were conspicuous by their absence.Men-at-arms there were in store, but no happy, jostling crowd of thecommons, for a terror was on Rome, and men kept as far as possiblefrom the Borgo. The piazza was, however, brilliantly lit up, and thebody guards of the various notables were strictly confined to theplaces assigned to them, order being maintained by about a thousandmen of the Spanish guards of the Pope, under the immediate command ofDe Leyva. The light from the lamps was reflected back by theglittering arms of the men, and the various ensigns of the greathouses were distinctly visible. The single column of Colonna, roseside by side with the eagle and griffin of Borghese, the six lilies ofFarnese trembled in the wind, near Colleoni's two-headed lion, and alittle in the background was drawn up a solid looking body of cavalry,over whom fluttered the standard of the Borgia; these were Cesare'sown lambs, as he called them, veterans of many a hard fought field.

  At the entrance steps we halted, and were met by two chamberlains,who, with their staffs of office in their hands, ushered us to thebronze gates, by which we were to enter the Vatican. We passed throughamidst a blare of trumpets, each side of the passage being lined withpikemen, standing stiff and motionless as statues. Our way led to theTorre Borgia, the portion of the Vatican occupied by Alexander, andthe distant strains of music caught our ears as we went on, andshortly entered the noble reception rooms, which were crowded withpeople.

  The Pope himself stood at the extreme end of the apartment, surroundedby a brilliant group of ladies and gentlemen, and as we came up tomake our duty, I had good opportunity of observing him. Alexander wasfully seventy years of age, but so hale, hearty, and strong-looking,that he might have easily passed for a man of middle age. He wasdressed as a private gentleman, in Spanish costume, with high boots, ajewelled dagger at his side, and a smart velvet cap on his head. Butthe face itself struck me as remarkable to a degree. He was cleanshaven, so that all the features were clearly discernible, the heavysensual chin, the wide cruel mouth, surmounted by a nose almost Jewishin its curve, the retreating forehead bulging over the eyes, and theeyes themselves, in which there seemed to burn the fires of insatiableappetite, and passion without end; all these, combined together tomake up a countenance which was a fitting mask for the evil soulwithin. I made my obeisance with the others, stifling with difficultya sudden desire to fling aside the hand I touched, and walk out of theroom.

  I moved slightly aside, and watched the various groups as theywandered to and fro, or stood together conversing; and the hum ofvoices, the gay strains of music, and the brilliant dresses made uptogether a scene well worth the looking at.

  The Florentine ambassador was talking to the Cardinal of SantaSusanna, a few feet from me. I caught the tones of his voice, and ashe turned round our eyes met. Machiavelli, for it was he, glanced atme as at a perfect stranger, and then, slightly adjusting his purplelined robe, moved slowly onwards with his companion.

  "We mount yet higher, signore---_excelsior!_"

  The words were breathed rather than whispered into my ear, and Cortestood beside me.

  "_Excelsior!_" I repeated with a smile, "but are you not putting yourhead in the lion's mouth?"

  He smiled back upon me, more of a snarl than a smile. "The beast isgorged now. He will not think of me--see, there is some one comingyour way--adieu!"

  He turned and passed into the groups, and St. Armande touched my arm.

  "You are to be presented to the Lady Lucrezia," he said, and the nextmoment I found myself bowing over the hand of one of the mostbeautiful, and certainly the most infamous woman of her age. She wasbarely twenty-three; had already wedded three husbands, and was tobecome a wife again, and marry Alfonso of Ferrara. She was seated in alow lounge, and as I came up she extended her hand to me with acharming smile. Standing before her, looking at her large limpid eyes,at the small red bow of the lips, and the clear cut features set in amass of red gold hair, I could not imagine that the stories I hadheard were true. It could not be that this fair young woman who wasbefore me had smilingly committed crimes of nameless horror. I wouldnot believe it.

  "So, cavaliere, you have come to the court at last! I thought you werenever going to do us that honour."

  "His Eminence of Strigonia said you meant to take the vows," and alady, who was leaning over Lucrezia's seat, laughed as she put inthese words. I recognised the peculiar unmusical laugh I had heart atthe gate St. Paul, and glanced at her with some interest.

  "My sister-in-law, Giulia Farnese--Giulia Bella, is it not?" andLucrezia touched her lightly on the arm.

  "Oh, yes, Giulia Bella--and are you really going to become a hermit?"

  "I might have had such thoughts until I came here," I said, "but Imust now put them aside."

  "Neatly turned, cavaliere--St. Armande himself could not have put itbetter--sit here, chevalier," and Lucrezia made room for St. A
rmandeon her lounge.

  At this moment a commotion at the entrance attracted our attention,and a man robed in black, followed by two others, walked up towardsthe Pope.

  "Heavens!" said Lucrezia, "it is Cesare!" and a look that was notsisterly came over her face as she glanced at her brother, who movedslowly up the room, men falling away from each side of him, andgreeting no one. He kept himself covered, and below his square velvetcap, I saw a resolute face, the mouth and chin, covered by a moustacheand short beard, not so hidden, however, but that one could distinctlysee against the dark hair on his face, the full red line of the lips,set in a habitual sneer. Bad as the whole brood of the Borgia were,this was the worst of them all. He was as far beyond them in infamy asthey were beyond the rest of mankind in evil doing. The very room washushed into silence as he entered, and I watched with more interestthan I can tell, the stately figure of this wicked man, as he went upto meet his only less wicked father. It was their first meeting sincethe murder of Pierrot, and Alexander, who stood in dread of his son,began to tremble violently as he approached, looking this way andthat, as if he would avoid him. At last they came together face toface, Cesare speaking no word, but lifting his cap with a low bow.Alexander almost made a motion as if he was wringing his hands; butrecovered himself with an effort, and kissed his son on the cheek.

  "So do the devils kiss." Lucrezia spoke these words under her breath,and I turned sharply round and looked at her. Her eyes fell beneath myglance of inquiry, and to raise some conversation I addressed GiuliaBella.

  "So that is the Duke of Valentinois?"

  "Yes--and the man immediately behind him is Don Michelotto."

  "The strangler."

  "You use strong terms, sir," the eyes of the Farnese flashed fire, andLucrezia added hurriedly--

  "Yes, yes--you are right--the strangler."

  "Hush, fool!" and Giulia Bella laid her hand on her friend's shoulder."See, they come this way--be cool!"

  In fact, Cesare had turned from his father without either of themexchanging a word, and was coming directly towards us. On the way hepassed a group consisting of D'Amboise, Bayard, and the Cardinal ofStrigonia. Valentinois stopped, and in his speechless way, held outhis hand to Bayard, who merely bowed stiffly. Cesare's dark facewhitened with rage, and dropping his hand to his side he walkedstraight on, and I could see that D'Amboise was expostulating withBayard, and Strigonia openly laughing. This insult, however, had notadded to Cesare's good temper; in fact, he came up to us as angry as aman could be, and after greeting his sister coldly, turned to St.Armande and looked at him in silence.

  "It is usual, signore," said Don Michelotto to the chevalier, "tostand in the presence of a prince."

  "I was not aware that you were a prince, sir," replied St. Armande,entirely ignoring the Borgia.

  "You can give this young gentleman a lesson in manners at yourleisure," said Cesare. "By your leave, sir," and giving his hand tohis sister, who took it passively, he led her to another apartment,followed by Giulia Bella, who tapped a good-bye on St. Armande's armwith her closed fan.

  Our group now consisted of Michelotto and myself standing, and St.Armande still sitting comfortably in the lounge, evidently examiningthe contour of his small and shapely foot. As for me, although I knewSt. Armande to be grossly in the wrong, I was delighted with thesudden spirit he had shown. The youngster had heart, after all, andthere was the making of a man in him.

  Michelotto behaved with great composure.

  "I trust, signore--I do not know your name--that you will give me thechance of carrying out the duke's commands."

  "My name is St. Armande," replied the chevalier; "and I am ready now,if you wish it."

  "This is scarcely the place, signore; but the Vatican gardens are afew feet away. If you will meet me near the summer-house, in, say,half an hour from now, it would be a convenience. If we left togetherperhaps it would excite remark," and the Spaniard played with theinlaid hilt of his dagger.

  "Very well."

  Michelotto gave St. Armande a bow, made a slight inclination towardsme, and strolled off. To all intents and purposes we might have beenengaged in the most friendly of conversations.

  "Well, cavaliere," said St. Armande looking up at me, "are yousatisfied now?"

  "I am satisfied, chevalier, that you are still too young to be trustedalone. If you wanted to pick a quarrel there were a hundred coursesopen to you: there are fifty other men with whom you might havecrossed swords with no danger except to yourself, and you must needsinsult Cesare, and get embroiled with a cut-throat and risk our plans.Where is your prudence? But the wine is poured out now. You mustdrink."

  His colour kept coming and going. "I mean to fight it out. I shallstep out in ten minutes, and await him. See! they are all gatheringround the tables. What with the wine and the dice, no one will takeheed who goes or who comes--good-bye!" and he held out his hand to me.

  "Nonsense, man--you are not going alone. You will want a second."

  "But not you," he replied, "any one but you. You have work to do--notyou, Savelli." His voice had almost a choke in it as he spoke.

  "Come," I said, "put an end to this, or you will be run through theribs. I am going with you."

  He gave in with a feminine gesture of agreement.

  "The business will not take long----"

  "It will take long enough, signore, if you go as you are going," andCorte stood beside us. "Signore," he added, "I have overheard everyword of the scene. Do not go as you value your lives. If you do go, gowith a strong party."

  "Diavolo!" I exclaimed, "an affair of the dagger then!"

  St. Armande looked from one to another of us in surprise. "This is afriend, chevalier," I said, "who has done us good service," andturning to Corte, "but we must meet the man--how on earth are we to doso in any force?"

  "Look round you," he made answer, "like master, like man--stroll out.You have some swords at your back. Take them with you; but better notgo at all. Ah! I see my new master, the Camulengo, looking towardsme--be wise and do not go," and Corte moved off to where the CardinalAscanio Sforze was seated, surrounded by a little group of courtiersand priests.

  "Who is that man?" asked St. Armande.

  "I met him under circumstances too long to tell you here," I said,"some other day you may hear all about him. We will however take hisadvice, and meet Don Michelotto with an extra sword or so at ourbacks." So saying I took his arm, and we strolled through theapartments, where every one appeared to be giving full rein to hisfancy. In fact the beginning of an orgie had set in. Alexander,apparently recovered from the shock of meeting with his son, was atthe gaming table, playing heavily, with Giulia Bella at his side.Bayard and Gonsalvo de Cordova were engaged in earnest converse witheach other, and Strigonia and D'Amboise were cracking a flask of wine.I heard D'Este say as we passed him--"It is adieu to your eminenceafter to-night. I am a sheep fat enough for the shambles, and mustlook to my throat and my fleece."

  "You would be wise Strigonia," D'Amboise made answer, "if the shieldof France did not cover me, I would not be here another hour. But itis an ill thing to lose a comrade such as you."

  "To better times," and the prelate who could only eat, drained hisglass to the prelate who could both eat and think.

  We now began to hurry a little, and found that Corte was right, forthe soldiers who had lined the passage inside the Bronze Gates hadtaken themselves off, and a considerable numbers of servants andfollowers were enjoying here the results of piratical raids on thesupper tables.

  Outside, however, everything was in order, for De Leyva was a thoroughsoldier. I found both the Spaniard and De Briconnet cursing their luckat being on the guards, and attacking a capon which they were washingdown with copious draughts of Falernian. Their duties kept themoutside, and it was a poor supper they were making, by the light oftorches, seated together on the steps of the Vatican.

  "What! out already, cavaliere?" asked De Briconnet. "Is the cardinalgoing?"

  "No, but there is a litt
le business," I answered as I called Jacopo.

  "_Nom du diable!_ Can I not come?"

  "It would be a relaxation," said De Leyva.

  "I am afraid not, gentlemen, although we thank you. Here, Jacopo! Getthree of our fellows and follow me. Tell the others to hold theirhorses."

  It was done in a twinkling, and in a few steps, having harked back, wewere in the Papal gardens. The casino or summer-house of the Pope wasin full light, and we directed our steps there without difficulty. Imade two of our men walk in front, Jacopo and the third behind us, andwe remained in the middle. Strict orders were given to have swordsready, and to use them at once.

  Except for the moonlight, the gardens themselves were not illuminated,and as we tramped along the paths, I thought to myself how easy itwould have been for Michelotto to have got rid of both St. Armande andmyself, if we had been fools enough to go without escort.

  Nothing happened. We reached the casino and waited there a full hour;but there was no sign of Michelotto.

  At last I lost patience.

  "He never meant to cross a sword with you, chevalier. I can bearwitness you were here, and kept tryst. We have escaped a felon's blowhowever. Come back--it is getting late--even for his eminence." Weturned, and made our way back, but it was a good two hours beforeD'Amboise retired. Bayard had gone on long before, declining alloffers of escort. When we reached the palace we found he had arrivedsafely.

  I wished St. Armande a good night, with more respect for him in myheart than I ever felt before, and turned to seek my apartments. Lateas it was, however, there was to be no sleep for me, as De Briconnet,whose brain the Falernian had merely made more lively, insisted onaccompanying me, and we split another flask, and talked of falconrytill the verge of the morning.