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So at least I found it. Without baring myself to the charge of any sneaking kindness for bloodshedding, I may own to the fascination of the precipitous fortress-town huddled red and grey on its three red crags, and of its suggestion of all the old crimes of Italy from Ezzelino's to Borgia's, of all unhappy deaths from Pia de' Tolomei's to Vittoria's, the White Devil of Italy. Havoc!"
Lock of L. Borgia's hair; tea-coloured and coarse. Don't believe in it a bit. Jolly old books, but couldn't touch 'em. Fine window to Dante. Saw cathedral illuminated; very theatrical, and much howling of people over the deputies from Rome. Don't know why they illuminated or why they howled; didn't ask. Men here handsome, but rude. Women wear veils and no bonnets, fat and ugly. Gloves very good.
Cesare, the flame-coloured Borgia, was still meditating his kingdom in Romagna; already the Lady of Forlì was flogging her sulky lieges into some sort of action for her defence. Now, Nona lay dead in the Borgia's way, and unless the Borgia could be hoodwinked again as he had been hoodwinked before, Nona need not cease to be a Duchy, but Amilcare would cease to be a Duke.
He is too positive; he seldom opines; he asserts with finality the things that only God can know; occasionally his knowledge, transcending the possible, quits the realm of the historian for that of the romancer, as for instance to cite one amid a thousand when he actually tells us what passes in Cesare Borgia's mind at the coronation of the King of Naples.
Although Cesare Borgia's conquest of Imola and Forli cannot seriously be accounted extraordinary military achievements save by consideration of the act that this was the first campaign he had conducted yet in Rome the excitement caused by his victory was enormous.
Such an agent of of the Count's interests we have among us, and his true object in protracting this siege, and encouraging and aiding you in your resistance, is to outwear the patience of the people of Babbiano with Gian Maria, and drive them in the hour of their approaching peril from Caesar Borgia's armies to bestow the throne on Aquila."
Why had I not thought this out before coming? French love-songs; out of the question. Italian prayers and German lullabies were plentiful in the repertoire, but seemed sadly out of place for this occasion. I thought of Lucrezia Borgia's "Brindisi"; but that instantly went out of my mind.
Tasso's fate is one of the darkest memories of the house of Este, and is also the last of any special importance in the history of the court of Ferrara. His poem may be regarded as the death song of this famous family, for the legitimate line of the house of Este died out October 27, 1597, in Alfonso II, Lucretia Borgia's grandson.
And with that preamble she launched upon his head the bitterest criticism he had ever heard. By stinging epithets and contemptuous words, she sought to make him see the folly of what he meditated. Was he indeed tired of ruling Babbiano? If that were so, she told him, he had but to wait for Caesar Borgia's coming.
For some five minutes there raged such a brief, hot fight as will be remembered as long as Pesaro stands. No longer than that did it take for the crowd of citizens to realise that war was not their trade, and that they had better leave the fighting to Cesare Borgia's men; and so they fell away and left us a clear road to come at the men-at-arms.
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