'And the judges!' said the shopkeeper; 'their delay used to eat one's very heart! 'Tis different now.'
'He has protected the orphan and consoled the widow,' put in the monk.
'He is merciful. 'Tis not to be denied he is merciful to the people.'
'He gives offence to none.'
'O Santo Iddio!' murmured a feeble old woman, beside herself with admiration; 'may the Blessed Virgin preserve to us our father, our benefactor, our bright sun!'
'Do you hear them?' whispered Machiavelli. 'Vox populi vox dei. I have always said one must be in the plains to see the mountains; one must be among the people to know the sovereign. I'd like to get them here, those folk who call the duke a tyrant! These things are hid from the wise and prudent, but revealed unto the simple.'
Martial music was heard and the crowd was astir.
'He comes! Look!'
They stood on tiptoe and craned their necks, curious heads were thrust from windows, women and girls, their eyes full of love, ran out on the balconies and loggie to see their hero, Cesare bello e biondo—'Cæsar, the blond and beautiful.' It was rare good luck, for he hardly ever showed himself to the people.
The musicians walked first, making a deafening clatter of kettledrums in time with the heavy tread of the soldiers. Next came the duke's Romagnole guard, all picked and handsome men, carrying halberts three cubits long. They wore cuirasses, and helmets of steel, and their garments were parti-coloured, the right side yellow, the left red. Niccolò could not admire enough this truly Roman array. After the guard came equerries and pages, in clothes of unsurpassed splendour; camisoles of gold brocade, mantles of pounce velvet with gold-embroidered slashings, their scabbards and belts of snakes' scales, with knobs representing the seven heads of the viper vomiting poison—the cognisance of the Borgias. Embroidered on their breasts was the word, 'Cæsar.' They were followed by the bodyguard, Albanian stradiotes, with curved yataghans. Then Bartolomeo Capranica, the Maestro del Campo, carried the naked sword of the Gonfaloniere of the Roman Church. After him came the ruler of Romagna himself, Cæsar Borgia, Duke of Valentinois. He was mounted on a black Barbary stallion, with a diamond sun on its headband: he wore a pale blue silk mantle with the white lilies of France embroidered in pearls, and a corselet wrought into the gaping mouth of a lion. His helmet was a dragon, with scales, wings, and fins of wrought brass, resounding at every movement.