Thus, Vittoria, the daughter and sister of fighting men, was ready to admire and sympathize in the martial ardour of Pescara, which would have had something respectable in it, had any one fought in those days for any grand principle.
At nineteen, the betrothed were married. Of course there was much rejoicing, much feasting; chroniclers record the homages Vittoria received from rich relations, in the shape of diamond crosses, diamond rings, "twelve golden bracelets," &c., and recount the crimson velvet gowns fringed with gold, the flesh-coloured silk petticoats trimmed with black velvet, the purple brocaded mantles and so forth, composing her wardrobe, which doubtless exemplified the height of the fashion of the time.
After the great stir was a great calm: two years ensued of perfect married happiness. Then the young Marquis was summoned to the field; nor did Vittoria seek to withhold him from the call to arms. The King of Spain was also King of Naples, so of course Pescara fought on the Spanish side: but the French were victorious at Ravenna, where he was taken prisoner, after receiving some wounds in the face, which, the Duchess of Milan told him, only made him the better-looking.
He charmed his captivity by addressing to his wife a Dialogue on Love, full of the studied conceits of the time. Vittoria sent him a poetical epistle, full of tenderness and classicality. Playing on her own name, she said:—"Se Vittoria volevi, io t'era appresso. Ma tu, lasciando me, lasciasti lei."
"If victory was what you wanted, I was by your side. But, leaving me, you lost her."
One day, when she was with tearful eyes, inditing a sonnet to him, lo, Pescara himself suddenly stood before her! He had been released on paying a heavy ransom: she looked on him as "un gran capitano."
Before their happiness could pall, he was off again, to win new laurels. He had, indeed, bravery worthy of some good cause; but he was a stern, inflexible commander: and in doing justice, he sometimes lost sight of mercy.
Pescara supplied his wife with an occupation during his absence, by sending her a young boy to educate; a little cousin of his own, the Marquis del Vasto; beautiful as a Cupid, but the naughtiest little Turk!
In a little while, Vittoria could guide him with a rein of silk. It is excellent woman's work to train boys. It is well to talk to them and listen to them a good deal; tell them your own plans and air-castles; hear all about theirs; help them in little matters and get them to help you in yours; ask their opinion sometimes, and suggest rather than intrude your own. Long walks together inevitably lead to long talks: little things occur in which the boy may aid the woman as if he were a man; though it be but to help her across a brook or over a stile.
Del Vasto soon adored Vittoria, and as she was a good classic, he feared her detection of false quantities, and yet would often come to her for help, sure of obtaining it. He burned to be a hero like Pescara: they both thought him quite up to Achilles. But Vittoria was to learn her idol was made of clay.