Light on Lucrezia - By Plaidy, Jean Page 0,37

all those present if they had ever seen a more healthy boy than this grandson of his.

Lucrezia lying back in her magnificent bed in Santa Maria in Portico, content in her child though she was, was exhausted for her labor had been long and arduous. Alfonso remained by her bed, her hand in his, smiling his delight to see the Pope’s pleasure in the child.

Cesare had not accompanied them on their return to Rome, and Alfonso could forget those nights of terror now Cesare was far away.

Outside in St. Peter’s Square were the sounds of soldiers at their drill, for the Papal armies were preparing to march; and although the Pope showed himself enchanted with this new baby, his soldiers were the enemies of the child’s paternal relatives.

Sanchia was in Rome, as Lucrezia had begged the Pope to allow her sister-in-law to return; and unable to deny his daughter her whims Alexander placed no obstacle in the way of Sanchia’s return, and when she came back treated her as though there had been no differences between them.

Lucrezia was delighted to have her with her; Alfonso was more than delighted; he was relieved. He could not have too many friends about him and he trusted his sister completely.

This was the day of the christening of the infant Roderigo, and there was great ceremony in the Palace of Santa Maria in Portico. No one would have guessed that so recently the Pope had declared that the lords of Pesaro, Forlì, Urbino, Imola and Faenza had forfeited their rights to these dominions because they had failed to pay their tithes to the Church, and that this declaration was the sign for Cesare to begin his series of attacks.

All was gaiety in Lucrezia’s palace for the christening of her baby boy. She was too weak to be up, so she lay in her bed among her pillows of red satin embroidered with gold; and the room in which she lay had been hung with velvet of that delicate blue made fashionable by Lucrezia herself and called Alexandrine blue.

Guests came to her bedside—all the most important men and women of Rome; they brought gifts and compliments, and they all declared their good wishes for the baby’s health and prosperity.

Lucrezia was very tired, but she sat up on her cushions bravely smiling while her father looked on with approval. This was his way of showing his love for her child, of telling her that this little Borgia should have his share of that indefatigable love and devotion which Lucrezia knew so well because she had shared it.

Many Cardinals had gathered in the chapel, and when the time for the christening drew near they went in a splendid procession from the palace chapel to the Sistine Chapel which was adorned with Botticelli’s Daughters of Jethro and Perugino’s Handing over of the Keys.

Holding the baby was Juan Cervillon, the brave Spanish Captain whom Lucrezia had come to look upon as her friend; and very splendid was the little Roderigo in his ermine-edged gold brocade.

At the altar the Archbishop of Cosenza (Francesco Borgia) took the baby from Cervillon and carried it at the font while Cardinal Carafa performed the baptismal ceremony.

It had been the Pope’s wish that after the ceremony the baby should be handed to a member of the Orsini family, that all present might take this as a sign of his desire for friendship with them.

The effect was spoilt when the young Roderigo, having behaved perfectly from the moment he left Santa Maria in Portico and all through the ceremony in the Sistine Chapel, set up a wail of anguish as the Orsini took him, and continued to cry fiercely until he was taken into another pair of arms.

An evil omen, said the watchers. The Orsinis should beware of the Holy Father and he of them.

The days which followed the baptism were uneasy, and even Lucrezia and Alfonso could not escape the tension.

Lucrezia’s friend, Juan Cervillon, came to her the day after the baptism and told her that he had been long from his home, and wanted to return to Naples that he might see his wife and family.

“You must go, Juan,” Lucrezia told him. “It is not to be expected that you should be separated from them for so long.”

“I have asked the permission of His Holiness,” he told her.

“And it has been given?”

“Yes, but somewhat reluctantly.”

Alfonso, who had joined them and stood listening, said: “That is to be understood. You have served him well.”

“I shall