been impaired forever; during that time the Borgia Pope had made no effort to have him released, and it was his own family who had been hard pressed to find the necessary ransom.
Such matters rankled with a proud woman like Elizabetta; only one as gentle as Guidobaldo could forget.
Now they were forced to entertain Cesare, and, as in the ball-room, Cesare was looking about him for the most attractive of the women. Elizabetta watched him, her lips tight. She deplored the necessity to entertain one whose reputation was so evil.
Elizabetta, dressed in black velvet which she considered decorous, insisted that all her ladies wear the same, and Cesare, accustomed to the splendor of the Roman ladies felt his spirits flag.
He was wishing that he had not come to Urbino. The gouty old Duke and his prim wife were not companions such as he would have chosen, but he did enjoy a certain amount of fun by watching their apprehension.
“Yours is an attractive domain,” he told them, and he let them see the glitter in his eyes.
They did not want trouble with the Pope, this Duke and Duchess; and they knew that the might of the Pope was behind his son.
Let them tremble in their shoes. If they could not give Cesare the entertainment he desired, at least let him enjoy what he could.
But Cesare suddenly discovered among the assembly a beautiful girl, and he immediately demanded of Elizabetta who she was.
Elizabetta smiled triumphantly. “She is a virtuous girl—Dorotea da Crema. She is staying here for a while but is on her way to join her future husband.”
“She is enchanting to the eye,” said Cesare. “I should like to speak with her.”
“It might be arranged,” said Elizabetta. “I will call her and her duenna.”
“Is the duenna the plump lady in black? Then I pray you do not call her.”
“My lord, even for you we cannot dispense with custom.”
“Then,” said Cesare lightly, “to enjoy the company of the beauty I must perforce put up with the dragon.”
Dorotea was charming.
Cesare asked if he might lead her in the dance.
“I fear not, my lord,” said the duenna. “My lady is on her way to join her future husband and, until she is married, she is not allowed to dance alone with any man.”
“Alone … here in this ball-room!”
The duenna pursed her lips and held her head on one side with the air of one who has come up against an insurmountable obstacle. Cesare’s anger flared up, but he hid it. The limpid eyes of the girl were on him for a second, before she lowered them.
“It is a senseless custom,” said Cesare furiously.
No one answered.
He turned to the girl then. “When do you leave here?”
“At the end of the week,” she answered.
She was very innocent, afraid of him, and yet a little attracted. Perhaps she had heard of his reputation; perhaps he seemed to her like the devil himself. Well, even the most innocent of virgins must be a little excited to be pursued by the devil.
“I leave tomorrow,” he told her. “And that is as well.”
“Why so?” she asked.
“Because, since I am not allowed to dance with you, it is better that we should not meet. I find the desire to dance with you overwhelming.”
She looked eagerly at her duenna, but that lady was not glancing her way.
“What a bore is etiquette!” murmured Cesare. “Tell me, who is the most fortunate man in the world?”
“They say that you are, my lord. They talk of your conquests and say that every town you approach falls into your hands.”
“It’s true, you know. But I was referring to the man you are to marry. Remember that I am not allowed to dance with you; so I am not as fortunate as you had thought me.”
“That is a small matter,” she answered, “compared with the conquest of a kingdom.”
“That which we desire intensely is never small. What is the name of your husband?”
“Gian Battista Carracciolo.”
“Oh happy Gian Battista!”
“He is a Captain in the Venetian army.”
“I would I were in his shoes.”
“You … jest. How could that be so—you who are Duke of Romagna?”
“There are some titles which we would give up in exchange for … others.”
“Titles, my lord? For what further title could you wish?”
“To be the lover of the fair Dorotea.”
She laughed. “This is idle talk, and it does not please my duenna.”
“Must we please her?”
“Indeed we must.”
Elizabetta watched with satisfaction. She said to the duenna: “It is time your charge retired. We must not have