To have left him there lying on the grass … in agony! I could murder Ippolito. And Alfonso asks what he should do. He should summon my lord murderer back to Ferrara and he should slash out his eyes. ’Twould be a just punishment.”
Francesco watched her quietly. It is strange, he thought, but I believe I have come to hate Isabella.
He had thought continually of Lucrezia since she had sailed away, and he remembered vividly every little hurt Isabella had given her.
Yet Isabella truly loved Giulio. She did not understand why Alfonso hesitated. She did not realize that to punish Ippolito would be to wound his great pride and make him an enemy of Alfonso and therefore of Ferrara for the rest of their lives. No greater harm could come to Ferrara than strife between these two brothers, and Isabella, in urging the punishment of Ippolito, was urging also the weakening of that structure which was the Este family; yet in her grief she could not see this.
And Francesco? He hated the Este family even as he hated Isabella. He hated their pride, their arrogant feelings that they and they alone were worthy to rule. What did he care for the downfall of Ferrara! But he did care. The matter was of great importance to him. He would be secretly pleased to see his wife’s family in decline. Ferrara and Mantua had never been true friends. And how he hated Isabella!
“Why do you stand there saying nothing?” demanded Isabella. “Is it of no importance to you that Giulio should be mutilated in this way?”
“I am thinking,” he said. His eyes smoldered beneath their heavy lids. “Certainly Ippolito should be brought to justice.”
She put out her hand and he took it.
In this way and this way only, he thought, can I indulge my hatred of Isabella.
She had risen. “I will send doctors to Giulio at once. At least he has a sister who will do all in her power to save his life.”
So the reply was sent to Ferrara. But by that time Alfonso had considered the matter with the utmost calm, and Alfonso Duke of Ferrara was in command over the sentimental brother of the wronged Giulio.
He had already sent word to Ippolito. He must return at once to Ferrara. His absence weakened the Duchy. They must stand together, no matter what happened, against all those who were ready to be the enemies of the state.
Giulio lay in the dark room. There was pain … pain all the time. He could not escape from pain, and even in sleep he would be haunted by dreams of those cruel men standing over him, their daggers in their hands; he would feel again the stabbing pain in his eyes; and he would awaken to more pain.
He would lie still, hating … hating the world which had been so cruel to him, which had first made him strong, handsome, gay—and in one short hour had taken from him all that had made his life good. Hate dominated his thoughts and there was one man to whom all that hatred was concentrated, one man whom he longed to destroy even as he had been destroyed. The only thought which comforted him during those days and nights of pain was of revenge on Ippolito.
He had lain in the darkened room; the slightest shaft of light could make him scream in agony. But even as he cursed his fate he remembered that he had good friends. They—Isabella, Lucrezia, Alfonso—had sent the best physicians in Italy to his bedside. They had not only saved his life, they had prevented him from being completely blind. He knew now that the sight of one eye was left to him, for he could see the outline of objects in the darkened room. Yet as he twisted and turned on his bed he wished that those kind friends had been his enemies, that they had left him to die as Ippolito had.
Lucrezia came into the room. She was a slender graceful shape, a perfumed presence which bent over his bed. She took his hand and kissed it.
“Dearest sister,” he murmured. “My dearest Lucrezia. I should have been dead but for you.”
She touched his forehead lightly and he strained to see her face. There was no mirror in the room and he did not know how much he had changed. They had removed the bandages from his face and at first the air on those scars had been excruciatingly painful.
“You can see