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Updated: June 25, 2025
"Not that, not that, Madonna," he wailed, his tone suggesting the imminence of tears. "Do not send me away. If die I must, let me die here at Roccaleone, helping the defence to my last breath. But do not cast me out to fall into the hands of Gian Maria. He will hang me for my share in this business. Do not requite me thus, Madonna.
My men and I have spent the night in loosening its old hinges." They raised the slab, and in the gap beneath it was disclosed a flight of steps leading down to the dungeons and cellars of Roccaleone.
"A letter and an arbalest!" panted the maddened Peppe, grimacing horribly at this delay. "God, was there ever such a fool! Does this mean nothing to that thick, empty thing you call a head? Have you forgotten how Gian Maria's offer of a thousand florins came to Roccaleone? On an arbalest quarrel, stupid!
A laugh of such understanding as would have set a better man on fire with indignation was the answer he received. "Why, yes, it is more than enough. To-morrow, then, my comrades and I march out of Roccaleone. Count upon that." "But do not accept my word. Wait until the herald comes again. Do nothing until you have heard the terms he brings." "Why, no, assuredly not."
"And the litters?" inquired Francesco, "Can you hazard no guess as to their meaning?" "None," said he, "saving that they may account for the presence of Messer Gonzaga. For litters argue women." "It seems, fool, that not even your wisdom shall avail us. But you heard the friar say they were bound for Roccaleone?" "Yes, I heard that.
And with that he told her of the threatened descent of Caesar Borgia upon Gian Maria's duchy, and hence, of the little time at her suitor's disposal; so that if he could but be held in check before the walls of Roccaleone for a little while, all might be well.
At last: "I may indeed become the laughing-stock of Italy," he muttered, in a concentrated voice, "but I shall carry my resolve through, and my first act upon entering Roccaleone will be to hang this knave Gonzaga from its highest turret."
Clearly, there are no difficulties attached to her being brought back." Gian Maria showed his teeth. "Do you give me leave to go about it in my own way?" he asked. "Not only do I give you leave, but I'll render you all the assistance in my power, if you can devise a means for luring her from Roccaleone." "I hesitate no longer. Your niece, Lord Duke, is a rebel, and as a rebel is she to be treated.
To lighten the awkward silence that was fallen, she asked him how it had transpired so soon that it was to Roccaleone she had fled. "Do you not know?" he cried. "Has not Peppe told you?" "I have had no speech with him. He but reached the castle, himself, late last night, and I first saw him this morning when he came to announce your presence."
But I shall repay you, Madonna," he protested and truly meant it, though not in the sense it seemed. A week passed peacefully at Roccaleone; so peacefully that it was difficult to conceive that out there in the plain sat Gian Maria with his five-score men besieging them.
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