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Updated: May 2, 2025
But then Molly came into play. At first she seemed to make the simple thing simpler. Amilcare was a strong man, but stiff. Grifone was sure he would bungle in his handling of Molly; this truth-telling beauty, this flawless jewel in a cup, would baffle him; he would neither see it the fine nor the delicate tool it was.
Grifone turned her a white, miserable face. "Ah!" he said, husky with reproach, "ah! you have come with the ardours of an angel leaping in you; yet no cruelty could in truth be sharper." "Cruel? Cruel? Oh, Grifone, nobody has ever said this of me before!" whimpered poor Molly. She was swirling in wilder water than she knew.
Molly still held the cup, though the liquor curved brimming at the lip. Her eyes were sightless, her head shaking with palsy. "Drink, drink, my soul!" "Yes, my lord, yes, yes; I must drink very deep," she said, and raised the cup. "Pshutt!" said Grifone. She turned like a caught beast, wild and blanched with horror.
No harm to him, lady; but to you obeying him, destruction, death!" Molly stared. Her breath came hollow from her mouth. "Death, Grifone?" she faltered, and then pored over his face again. He nodded his words into her. "Death, Madonnina." The girl tottered to her feet had to balance like a rope-dancer to keep upon them. "But then but then O Saviour!" She threw her arms up.
So, as he ruminated, some whisp of his racing thought caught light from his inner rage, flared blood-bright before him, and convulsing him drove him to his work. "Gross trull!" He sprang at her with his knife in the air. Molly shrieked for mercy; and before he could be on her Grifone whipped out his dagger and stabbed his master under the stabbing arm.
"Majoresque cadunt altis de montibus umbræ " murmured Grifone to himself, as he slipped among the cypresses over the grass. Molly followed him with faltering knees, nearly spent. As always, she was at the mercy of a clear head, never masterless when a man was near her.
He said nothing, nor got any greeting; but he placed a little phial on the table, and waited. Amilcare looked at it, did not touch it. It was a very small phial, half full of a clear liquid. "You prepared it yourself, Grifone?" Grifone nodded pleasantly. "Then I may rest assured ?" "You may, my lord." "I will ask you to make all arrangements, Grifone.
She was luminously mild, used her hands like a Madonna in a picture, was more lovely and winning in the motions of her little head, the wistful deeps and darks of her eyes, the pathetic curve of her mouth, than any Madonna short of Leonardo's. Grifone threw up his arms; such a pass confounded him; he had no tools to pick this sort of lock. Oh, but the thing was impossible!
"Courage, Grifone, mio caro," he assured himself; "she is afraid of thee." He resumed his state of armed respect, Molly her tossing nights and pacing days. Affairs were something awry within the Duchy, yet Grifone assured his Lord they were likely to be much more awry out of it. Madonna Duchessa must certainly be shown about otherwise, an avalanche. Preparations were pushed on. By October the Duke and Duchess, with a great train set out actually for Bologna, but nominally for Milanese territory. Lodovico, of that great principality, would have been mortally affronted if he believed Bentivoglio to have been considered first. Therefore the visit to Bologna was to be a dead secret, performed by the principals almost unattended. Meantime Grifone (who loved mystification) prepared litters with a dummy Duke and Duchess to go under escort to Borgo San Donnino. He and his wagging escort duly entered that city: excuses to the Podest
For cup or fruit work he found ladies the only possible agents. No one in Nona would dream of taking wine from a man; and as for presents of figs, Grifone was maturely of opinion that the last and present Pontiffs had exhausted that pretty artifice. Finally, you can easily understand how useful Duke Amilcare found a demure lad of this kind in the matter of moulding his new State.
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