CHAPTER V. GIAN MARIA
It was a week after the meeting 'twixt the niece of Guidobaldo and theCount of Aquila, when the latter--his wound being wellnigh healed--rodeone morning under the great archway that was the main entrance to thecity of Babbiano. The Captain of the Gate saluted him respectfully ashe rode by, and permitted himself to marvel at the pallor of hisExcellency's face. And yet, the cause was not very far to seek. It stoodupon four spears, among a noisy flock of circling crows, above that veryGate---called of San Bacolo--and consisted of four detruncated humanheads.
The sight of those dead faces grinning horribly, their long, mattedhair fluttering like rags in the April breeze, had arrested Francesco'sattention as he drew nigh. But when presently he came nearer and lookedwith more intentness, a shudder of recognition ran through him, and agreat horror filled his soul and paled his cheek. The first of thoseheads was that of the valiant and well-named Ferrabraccio; the next thatof Amerino Amerini; and the other two, those of his captured companionson that night at Sant' Angelo.
So it would seem that Gian Maria had been busy during the week that wassped, and that there, on the walls of Babbiano, lay rotting the onlyfruits which that ill-starred conspiracy was likely to bear.
For a second it entered his mind to turn back. But his stout andfearless nature drove him on, all unattended as he was, and in despiteof such vague forebodings as beset him. How much, he wondered, mightGian Maria know of his own share in that mountain meeting, and how wouldit fare with him if his cousin was aware that it had been proposed tothe Count of Aquila to supplant him?
He was not long, however, in learning that grounds were wanting for suchfears as he had entertained. Gian Maria received him with even more thanwonted welcome, for he laid much store by Francesco's judgment and wasin sore need of it at present.
Francesco found him at table, which had been laid for him amidst thetreasures of art and learning that enriched the splendid Palace library.It was a place beloved by Gian Maria for the material comforts that itoffered him, and so he turned it to a score of vulgar purposes ofhis own, yet never to that for which it was equipped, being an utterstranger to letters and ignorant as a ploughboy.
Ensconced in a great chair of crimson leather, at a board overladen withchoice viands and sparkling with crystal flagons and with vessels anddishes of gold and enamel, Francesco found his cousin, and the air thathad been heavy once with the scholarly smell of parchments and mustytomes was saturated now with pungent odours of the table.
In stature Gian Maria was short and inclining, young though he was, tocorpulency. His face was round and pale and flabby; his eyes blue andbeady; his mouth sensual and cruel. He was dressed in a suit of lilacvelvet, trimmed with lynx fur, and slashed, Spanish fashion, in thesleeves, to show the shirt of fine Rheims linen underneath. About hisneck hung a gold chain, bearing an Agnus Dei, which contained a relic ofthe True Cross--for Gian Maria pushed his devoutness to great lengths.
His welcome of Francesco was more effusive than its wont. He bade thetwo servants who attended him to lay a plate for his illustrious cousin,and when Aquila shortly yet courteously declined, with the assurancethat he had dined already, the Duke insisted that, at least, he shoulddrink a Cup of Malvasia. When out of a vessel of beaten gold they hadfilled a goblet for the Count, his Highness bade the servants go, andrelaxed--if, indeed, so much may be said of one who never knew muchdignity--before his visitor.
"I hear," said Aquila, when the first compliments were spent, "strangestories of a conspiracy in your Duchy, and on the walls at the Gate ofSan Bacolo I beheld four heads, of men whom I have known and honoured."
"And who dishonoured themselves ere their heads were made a banquet forthe crows. There, Francesco!" He shuddered, and crossed himself. "It isunlucky to speak of the dead at table."
"Let us speak, then, of their offence alone," persisted Francescosubtly. "In what did it lie?
"In what?" returned the Duke amusedly. His voice was thin and incliningto shrillness. "It is more than I can say. Masuccio knew. But the dogwould not disclose his secret nor the names of the conspirators untilhis task should be accomplished and he had taken them at the treasonhe knew they had gathered to ripen. But," he continued, an olive poised'twixt thumb and forefinger, "it seems they were not to be captured aseasily as he thought. He told me the traitors numbered six, and thatthey were to meet a seventh there. The men who returned from the venturetell me too, and without shame, that there were but some six or seventhat beset them. Yet they gave the Swiss trouble enough, and killed somenine of them besides a half-score of more or less grievously wounded,whilst they but slew two of their assailants and captured another two.Those were the four heads you saw at the Porta San Bacolo."
"And Masuccio?" inquired Francesco. "Has he not told you since who werethose others that escaped?"
His Highness paused to masticate the olive.
"Why, there lies the difficulty," said he at length. "The dog is dead.He was killed in the affray. May he rot in hell for his obstinatereticence. No, no!" he checked himself hastily. "He's dead, and thesecret of this treason, as well as the names of the traitors, haveperished with him. Yet I am a clement man, Francesco, and sorely thoughthat dog has wronged me by his silence, I thank Heaven for the grace tosay--God rest his vile soul!"
The Count flung himself into a chair, as much to dissemble such signs ofrelief as might show upon his face, as because he wished to sit.
"But surely Masuccio left you some information!" he exclaimed.
"The very scantiest," returned Gian Maria, in chagrined accents. "It wasever the way of that secretive vassal. Damn him! He frankly told me thatif I knew, I would talk. Heard you ever of such insufferable insolenceto a prince? All that he would let me learn was that there was aconspiracy afoot to supplant me, and that he was going to capture theconspirators, together with the man whom they were inviting to takemy place. Ponder it, Francesco! Such are the murderous plans my lovingsubjects form for my undoing--I who rule them with a rod of gold, themost clement, just and generous prince in Italy. Cristo buono! Doyou marvel that I lost patience and had their hideous heads set uponspears?"
"But did you not say that two of these conspirators were brought backcaptive?"
The Duke nodded, his mouth too full for words.
"Then, at their trial, what transpired?"
"Trial? There was no trial." Gian Maria chewed vigorously for a moment."I tell you I was so heated with anger at this base ingratitude, that Ihad not even the wit to have the names of their associates tortured outof them. Within a half-hour of their arrival in Babbiano, the heads ofthese men whom it had pleased Heaven to deliver up to me were where yousaw them to-day."
"You sent them thus to their death?" gasped Francesco, rising to hisfeet and eyeing his cousin with mingled wonder and anger. "You sent menof such families as these to the headsman, without a trial? I think,Gian Maria, that you must be mad if so rashly you can shed such blood asthis."
The Duke sank back in his chair to gape at his impetuous cousin. Then,in sullen anger: "To whom do you speak?" he demanded.
"To a tyrant who calls himself the most clement, just and generousprince in Italy, and who lacks the wisdom to see that he is underminingwith his own hands, and by his own rash actions, a throne that isalready tottering. Can you not think that this might mean a revolution?It amounts to murder, and though dukes resort to it freely enough inItaly, it is not openly and defiantly wrought, as is this."
Anger there was in the Duke's soul, but there was still more fear--somuch, that it shouldered the anger aside.
"I have provided against rebellion," he announced, with an ease that hevainly strove to feel. "I have given the command of my guards to MartinoArmstadt, and he has engaged for me a company of five hundred Swisslanzknechte that were lately in the pay of the Baglioni of Perugia."
"And you deem this security?" rejoined Francesco, with a smile of scorn."To hedge your throne with foreign spears commanded by a foreigner?"
"This
and God's grace," was the pious answer.
"Bah!" answered Francesco, impatient at the hypocrisy. "Win the heartsof your people. Let that be your buckler."
"Hush!" whispered Gian Maria. "You blaspheme. Does not every act of myself-sacrificing life point to such an aim? I live for my people. But,by my soul, they ask too much when they ask that I should die for them.If I serve those who plot against my life, as I have served these menyou speak of, who shall blame me? I tell you, Francesco, I wish I mighthave those others who escaped, that I might do as much by them. By theliving God, I do! And as for the man who was to have supplanted me----"He paused, a deadly smile on his sensual mouth completing the sentencemore effectively than lay within the power of words. "Who could ithave been?" he mused. "I've vowed that if Heaven will grant me that Idiscover him, I'll burn a candle to Santa Fosca every Saturday for atwelvemonth and go fasting on the Vigil of the Dead. Who--who could ithave been, Franceschino?"
"How should I know?" returned Francesco, evading the question.
"You know so much, Checco mio. Your mind is so quick to fathom mattersof this kind. Think you, now, it might have been the Duca Valentino?"
Francesco shook his head.
"When Caesar Borgia comes he will know no need to resort to such poormeans. He will come in arms to reduce you by his might."
"God and the saints protect me!" gasped the Duke. "You talk of it as ifhe were already marching."
"Then I talk of it advisedly. The event is none so remote as you wouldmake yourself believe. Listen, Gian Maria! I have not ridden from Aquilafor just the pleasure of passing the time of day with you. Fabrizio daLodi and Fanfulla degli Arcipreti have been with me of late."
"With you?" cried the Duke, his little eyes narrowing themselves as theyglanced up at his cousin. "With you---eh?" He shrugged his shoulders andspread his palms before him. "Pish! See into what errors even so cleara mind as mine may fall. Do you know, Francesco, that marking theirabsence since that conspiracy was laid, I had a half-suspicion they wereconnected with it." And he devoted his attention to a honeycomb.
"You have not in all your Duchy two hearts more faithful to Babbiano,"was the equivocal reply. "It was on the matter of this very peril thatthreatens you that they came to me."
"Ah!" Gian Maria's white face grew interested.
And now the Count of Aquila talked to the Duke of Babbiano much asFabrizio da Lodi had talked to the Count that night at Sant' Angelo. Hespoke of the danger that threatened from the Borgia, of the utter lackof preparation, and of Gian Maria's contempt of the counsels given him.He alluded to the discontent rife among his subjects at this state ofthings, and to the urgent need to set them right. When he had done, theDuke sat silent a while, his eyes bent thoughtfully upon his platter, onwhich the food lay now unheeded.
"An easy thing, is it not, Francesco, to say to a man: this is wrong,and that is wrong. But who is there, pray, to set it right for me?"
"That, if you will say but the word, I will attempt to do."
"You?" cried the Duke, and far from manifesting satisfaction at havingone offer himself to undertake to right this very crooked business, GianMaria's face reflected an incredulous anger and some little scorn. "Andhow, my marvellous cousin, would you set about it?" he inquired, a sneerlurking in his tone.
"I would place such matters as the levying of money by taxation inthe hands of Messer Despuglio, and at whatever sacrifice to your ownextravagance, I would see that for months to come the bulk of thesemoneys is applied to the levying and arming of suitable men. I have someskill as a condottiero--leastways, so more than one foreign prince hasbeen forced to acknowledge. I will lead your army when I have raised it,and I will enter into alliances for you with our neighbouring States,who, seeing us armed, will deem us a power worthy of their alliance. Andso, what man can do to stem the impending flood of this invasion, thatwill I do to defend your Duchy. Make me your gonfalonier, and in a monthI will tell you whether it lies in my power or not to save your State."
The eyes of Gian Maria had narrowed more and more whilst Francescospoke, and into his shallow face had crept an evil, suspicious look. Asthe Count ceased, he gave vent to a subdued laugh, bitter with mockery.
"Make you my gonfalonier?" he muttered, in consummate amusement. "Andsince when has Babbiano been a republic--or is it your aim to make itone, and establish yourself as its chief magistrate?"
"If you misapprehend me so----" began Francesco, but his cousininterrupted him with heightening scorn.
"Misapprehend you, Messer Franceschino? No, no. I understand you buttoo well." He rose suddenly from his interrupted meal, and came a stepnearer his cousin. "I hear rumours of this growing love my people aremanifesting for the Count of Aquila, and I have let them go unheeded.That rogue Masuccio warned me ere he died, and I answered him withmy whip across his face. But I am by no means sure that I have beenproceeding wisely. I had a dream two nights ago---- But let that be!When it so happens that in any State there is a man whom the peopleprefer to him who rules them, and when it so happens that this man is ofas good blood and high birth as are you, he becomes a danger to himthat sits the throne. I need scarce remind you," he added, with a horridgrin, "of how the Borgias deal with such individuals, nor need I addthat a Sforza may see fit to emulate those very conclusive measures ofprecaution. The family of Sforza has bred as yet no fools, nor shall Iprove myself the first by placing in another's hands the power to makehimself my master. You see, my gentle cousin, how transparent youraims become under my eyes. I am keen of vision, Franceschino, keen ofvision!" He tapped his nose and chuckled a malicious appreciation of hisown acute perceptions.
Francesco regarded him with an eye of stony scorn. He might haveanswered, had he been so disposed, that the Duchy of Babbiano was his totake whenever he pleased. He might have told him that, and defied him.But he went more slowly than did this man of a family that bred nofools.
"Do you know me, then, so little, Gian Maria," said he, not withoutbitterness, "that you think I hunger for so empty a thing as this ducalpomp you clutch so fearfully? I tell you, man, that I prefer my libertyto an imperial throne. But I waste breath with you. Yet, some day, whenyour crown shall have passed from you and your power have been engulfedin the Borgia's rapacious maw, remember my offer which might have savedyou and which with insults you disregarded, as you disregarded theadvice your older counsellors gave you."
Gian Maria shrugged his fat shoulders.
"If by that other advice you mean the counsel that I should takeGuidobaldo's niece to wife, you may give ease unto your patriotic soul.I have consented to enter into this alliance. And now," he ended, withanother of his infernal chuckles, "you see how little I need dread thisterrible son of Pope Alexander. Allied with Urbino and the other Statesthat are its friends, I can defy the might of Caesar Borgia. I shallsleep tranquil of nights beside my beauteous bride, secure in theprotection her uncle's armies will afford me, and never needing so muchas my valiant cousin's aid as my gonfalonier."
The Count of Aquila changed colour despite himself, and the Duke'ssuspicious eyes were as quick to observe it as was his mind tomisinterpret its meaning. He registered a vow to set a watch on thissolicitous cousin who offered so readily to bear his gonfalon.
"I felicitate you, at least," said Francesco gravely, "upon the wisdomof that step. Had I known of it I had not troubled you with otherproposals for the safety of your State. But, may I ask you, GianMaria, what influences led you to a course which, hitherto, you have soobstinately refused to follow?"
The Duke shrugged his shoulders.
"They plagued me so," he lamented, with a grimace, "that in the end Iconsented. I could withstand Lodi and the others, but when my motherjoined them with her prayers--I should say, her commands--and pointedout again my peril to me, I gave way. After all a man must wed. Andsince in my station he need not let his marriage weigh too much uponhim, I resolved on it for the sake of security and peace."
Since it was the salvation of Babbiano that he aimed at, the Cou
nt ofAquila should have rejoiced at Gian Maria's wise resolve, and no otherconsideration should have tempered so encompassing a thing as that joyof his should have been. Yet, when later he left his cousin's presence,the only feeling that he carried with him was a deep and bitterresentment against the Fate that willed such things, blent with asorrowing pity for the girl that was to wed his cousin and a growinghatred for the cousin who made him pity her.
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