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Updated: June 4, 2025
"Though Socrates never had to do it. When I got the notion Socrates was going out too much, I used to hide his dress clothes. Then there was the case of Rubens. He gave a Carbon Talk at the Sforza's Thursday Night Club, merely to oblige Madame Sforza, and three weeks later discovered that she had sold his pictures to pay for her gown! You people simply run it into the ground.
Isabella d'Este and Elisabetta Gonzaga honoured him with their friendship, and Beatrice d'Este found in him the truest of friends and best of servants. Three kings of France, Charles VIII., Louis XII., and Francis I., singled him out for special distinction, and after enjoying the highest honour at Lodovico Sforza's court, he lived to become Grand Ecuyer of France in the next century.
He ruled firmly, wisely, and for those times well, attending to the prosperity of his states, maintaining good discipline in his cities, and losing no ground by foolish or ambitious schemes. Louis XI. of France is said to have professed himself Sforza's pupil in statecraft, than which no greater tribute could be paid to his political sagacity.
He'd been all over town, tracking down that report of Sforza's; he'd even made a quick visit to Chinatown, on the off chance that "China" had been used in an attempt at the double concealment of the obvious, but, as he'd expected, he'd found nothing. The people there hardly knew there was to be an election.
A fortnight later, Beatrice roused herself from her grief to help her husband in the preparations for his niece Bianca Sforza's wedding to the Emperor Maximilian. The death of the old Emperor Frederic III., who breathed his last at Linz on the 19th of August, and the elevation of his son to the imperial throne, had hastened the development of Lodovico's plans.
And this façade of the Certosa, more than any other architectural work of the age, bears the stamp of Lodovico Sforza's peculiar genius. Alike in the abundance of classical motives and in the amazing wealth of invention and infinite grace that inspired the whole conception, we recognize Lodovico's passionate love of the antique and minute attention to detail.
But Messer Galeazzo's story does not end here. A day or two later he takes up the thread of his discourse again, and describes the pleasant day which the duchess spent at Cussago, one of Lodovico Sforza's favourite villas on the sunny slopes of the Brianza, six miles from Milan, on the way to Como.
Matarazzo, I confess, is worthy of no more credit than any other of the contemporary reporters of common gossip. But at least he is worthy of no less. And it is undeniable that in Sforza's case a strong motive for the murder was not lacking. My narrative in "The Night of Hate" is admittedly a purely theoretical account of the crime.
Early in 1493, Alexander VI., now Lodovico Sforza's firm friend, proposed a new alliance between himself, Milan, and Venice to the Doge and Senate, and Count Caiazzo was sent by Lodovico to negotiate the terms of the treaty, which was to hold good for twenty-five years, and had for its express object the maintenance of the peace of Italy.
"Though Socrates never had to do it. When I got the notion Socrates was going out too much, I used to hide his dress clothes. Then there was the case of Rubens. He gave a Carbon Talk at the Sforza's Thursday Night Club, merely to oblige Madame Sforza, and three weeks later discovered that she had sold his pictures to pay for her gown! You people simply run it into the ground.
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