Light on Lucrezia - By Plaidy, Jean Page 0,156

years stretched out, yet whose lives were over.

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THE BULL IN THE DUST

In the highest tower of the fortress of Medina del Campo Cesare paced up and down, clenching his hands, biting his fists, uncontrollable fury within him.

“How can I endure this life?” he shouted at his attendants. “Why should this happen to me … to Cesare Borgia! What have I done to deserve such a fate?”

His servants cowered before him. They might have answered that he had imprisoned many men, had condemned them to a worse fate than that which he now suffered; but none dared speak to him, even though their silence could irritate him as much as words.

He had not been ill-treated. In Spain he was recognized as a prisoner of rank. He had his chaplain and attendants, and he was not entirely denied visitors from the outside world.

But to a man such as Cesare Borgia, who had dreamed of ruling all Italy, this fate was the most tragic that could have befallen him.

There were moments of fury when none knew what he would do next. He had during one of these, which had come to him while he was in the prison of Cincilla, lifted the governor in his arms and attempted to throw him over the battlements. Cesare was emaciated by sickness and frustration, but anger gave him strength and the governor’s life had been saved just in time.

As a result Cesare had been removed to this high tower in the fortress of Medina del Campo.

When he looked from his narrow window he could see the valley far below. He would sit brooding for hours over the view from that slit of a window. He longed for freedom and each day he cursed his evil fate, until those about him believed he would do himself an injury.

Then he would call for writing materials that he might write to his sister.

“Lucrezia,” he would cry aloud. “You are the only friend I have in the world. And what can you do for me? You are almost as much a prisoner as I am. To think that this evil fate could befall us … the Borgias!”

He would sink into melancholy, and none dared go near him.

But there were moments of hope. He had heard that King Ferdinand was not pleased with the work of the Great Captain, Consalvo de Cordoba, in Naples, and that he considered he was a traitor to his country. Ferdinand had a plan. He would release Cesare Borgia, set him at the head of an army and send him to make war, in the name of Spain, on Cordoba. Cordoba was the man who had delivered Cesare into the hands of Spain; but for Cordoba he would not be a prisoner now. Ferdinand decided that Cesare was indeed the man to subdue the Great Captain.

So hope was born. There was laughter in the tower of Medina del Campo. Cesare cried: “Soon I shall be marching at the head of my army. Soon I shall be in Naples. I was dying, my friends, for a breath of Italian air. The thought of breathing it revives me now.”

He discussed his plans with his visitors; he would spend hours stretched out on the floor, studying maps. There was an atmosphere of excitement in the tower—until news came that Ferdinand had changed his plans and had set out in person for Naples.

Then it seemed that madness possessed Cesare. He threw himself about the tower so that his servants were sure he would do himself an injury. He stood at the window looking down, and all believed that he planned to throw himself out.

The Count of Benavente, a nobleman who lived close by, had visited Cesare out of curiosity, and become fascinated by him. This Count, seeing thoughts of suicide in Cesare’s eyes, said to him: “Are you thinking of throwing yourself out of the window, my friend?”

Cesare answered: “It would be an escape from what is rapidly becoming intolerable.”

“By the window certainly,” said Benavente. “But why jump out? Why not lower yourself down by means of a rope?”

“I have my visitors,” said Cesare. “I am treated as a prisoner of some state. But my jailers would never allow a rope to be brought to me.”

“It might be arranged,” said Benavente.

Cesare now had an object in life. His spirits revived and the old vitality was with him. His chaplain and his servant Garcia were in the plot, and eventually, a little at a time, the rope was smuggled into the