The Pope, seeing her downcast looks, sought to cheer her up and, when two mares were put into the courtyard with four stallions, he insisted on her watching from the windows of the Apostolic Palace to see the excitement below.
Several people had gathered to watch the spectacle, and Lucrezia was seen there with her father; this was talked of throughout the city, and Lucrezia believed that it would most certainly reach the ears of those who sought to defame her in the eyes of the old Duke of Ferrara.
Shall I never escape? she wondered.
Then she marveled that she could have thought of it as escape—leaving the home and family which she had loved so much!
She was determined to please her new family. She was in truth begging them not to close her way of escape.
Roderigo had been a matter of great concern to Duke Ercole; he did not want the expense of keeping a child of Lucrezia’s by another marriage. Lucrezia publicly put the boy into the care of her old cousin, Francesco Borgia, who was now Cardinal of Cosenza, and bestowed on him Sermoneta so that the Este family might have no fear that the child would be an expense to them.
And still they did not come.
Lucrezia in desperation declared: “If there is no marriage with Ferrara I shall go into a convent.”
And those who heard this marveled that the young girl who had been so gay, so happy in the possession of her beauty, so careful of its preservation, so enthusiastic in the designing of fine garments, could contemplate giving up her gay life for the rigors of a convent.
They did not know of the fear that had taken possession of Lucrezia.
It was December before the cortège set out and, headed by the three brothers, Ippolito, Ferrante and Sigismondo, made its way toward Rome. The weather was bad and the rain incessant, but there was an easing of that fear in Lucrezia’s heart, for she was certain now that in a few weeks she would be leaving Rome.
Alexander was as excited as a boy. He would burst into Lucrezia’s apartment and ask to see the latest addition to her trousseau; he would exclaim with pleasure as he examined the dresses—the brocades and velvets in shades of blue, russet and morello, all encrusted with jewels and sewn with pearls; he could not refrain from calculating the number of ducats represented by these fine clothes, and would point out to the women: “That hat is worth 10,000 ducats, and the dress 20,000.”
Cesare was to ride out to meet the cavalcade and conduct it into Rome, and fortunately a day before the entry into the capital the weather cleared and the sun shone.
Cesare, splendid on a magnificent horse, surrounded by eighty halberdiers in Papal yellow and black, and soldiers numbering four thousand, met the cavalcade from Ferrara at the Piazza del Popolo and placed himself at the head beside Ippolito. Nineteen Cardinals met them at the Porta del Popolo and many speeches of welcome were delivered. The guns at Castel Sant’ Angelo thundered out as they rode on to St. Peter’s Square and the Vatican.
Here Alexander was waiting and, when the ceremonial greeting was over and he had received countless kisses on his slipper, he put aside ceremony and embraced the Este brothers, telling them with tears of joy in his eyes, of the great delight he had in beholding them.
Then it was Cesare’s duty to lead the distinguished guests to the Palace of Santa Maria in Portico where Lucrezia was waiting to receive them.
She stood at the foot of the staircase in readiness. At intervals on the staircase torches were blazing; the setting was dramatic, for Lucrezia possessed all the showmanship of the Borgias and, no matter how great was her fear at any time, she could usually spare thought for her appearance.
She had chosen to support her, for her escort, a very old Spanish nobleman, dignified, gray-bearded and grizzled, and there could not have been a greater contrast to her feminine fragility. Her brocade dress in her favorite morello color was stiff with gold and jewels; her velvet cloak was lined with sable, and on her head she wore an emerald-colored net lavishly decorated with pearls, while on her forehead a great ruby shone.
The three Este brothers, who had been so eager to see this woman whom they had so often heard called an incestuous murderess, gasped with astonishment as they came forward to kiss her hand.
Ippolito thought her delightful; Ferrante was half way to falling in love with her, and even Sigismondo assured himself that the stories he had heard of her could not be anything but lies.
Now the celebrations, which were to precede and follow the marriage by proxy, began.
The Pope was determined to give entertainments such as had never been seen before, even of his devising. He took a puckish delight in displaying his splendor before the Este Princes. He fervently wished that he had their old miserly father in Rome so that he could shock him thoroughly. He would teach them how to enjoy wealth. It was the lavish spenders who did that, not the misers of this world.
He would take the brothers aside and call attention to the beauty of Lucrezia. “Is she not charming? Not a blemish. She is not lame. She is perfect, perfect I tell you.”
He would ask them questions about the Duke and the bridegroom. “How tall is your father the Duke? Tell me, is he as tall as I am?”
“He is tall,” Ippolito explained, “but I think perhaps Your Holiness has a slight advantage.”
That delighted the Pope. “And my son, the Duke of Romagna, is he taller than your brother Alfonso? Tell me that.”
“Our brother is tall, Holiness, but so is the Duke of Romagna. It is not easy to say, but perhaps the Duke is the taller of the two.”
They were the answers the Pope wanted, and he was as pleased as a child. He was delighted with the marriage of his daughter into one of the oldest and most aristocratic families in Italy, but he did not want anyone to forget that the Borgias were more powerful than any, and if he was pleased, the Duke of Ferrara should be doubly so.
He whispered to Ippolito: “I long to see the Este jewels which you are to bestow on my daughter.”
Ippolito was uneasy, for his father had warned him that the famous Este jewels were not to be given to Lucrezia as a gift to a bride. She would be allowed to wear them for her wedding celebrations, but she must not think they passed into her possession. They were worth a fortune, and to contemplate their passing out of the Este family was more than old Duke Ercole could bear.
Ippolito explained to the Pope as tactfully as he could; Alexander smiled ruefully, but he was not seriously perturbed. He was rich enough to snap his fingers at the 70,000 ducats which the jewels were said to be worth. The most important matter was to get Lucrezia married and, now that the embassy was in Rome, that would not be long delayed.
At the end of December the marriage was celebrated. Escorted by Don Ferrante and Don Sigismondo, Lucrezia was led across St. Peter’s Square with a dazzling train to accompany her. She had fifty maids of honor and twenty pages, all exquisitely dressed, and these last carried the standards of Este side by side with the emblem of the Grazing Bull.
Lucrezia in crimson velvet and gold brocade lined with ermine was very beautiful, and the people who had assembled to watch gasped with admiration as she was led into the Vatican. The ceremony was not held in the intimate Borgia apartments but in the Sala Paolina. Lucrezia had asked the Pope’s permission for this, as she did not feel that she could endure this marriage by proxy kneeling where she had knelt during the ceremony which had made her wife of that other Alfonso.
Here Alexander, Cesare and thirteen Cardinals were waiting for her, and the ceremony began.