"Well, my only friend, my father, my all; I intrust myself soul and body in your hands."
"It is well, time presses; you must write a letter to her Majesty Catherine of France; she has a noble heart; bred to misfortunes, she must have learned to help the unfortunate; and a Medici herself by birth, she will shrink from having her family disgraced by domestic tragedies. Relationship also may do something, and each of these considerations separately, or all combined, seem to me more than enough to excite her royal heart to grant you an asylum, and provide means for your flight. I will undertake the responsibility of a letter reaching her at Paris; this evening a relation of mine, one of the Corbinelli family, a discreet and prudent young man, sets out for Lyons, and he can either consign it to the Lieutenant of the city, or if he does not consider it safe to do so, will for my sake carry it himself to Paris. As soon as we receive a reply, it will not be difficult to convey you to Leghorn, and when there, you can embark for Genoa, or, better still, for Marseilles; reaching which you may think yourself safe—"
"But Eleonora?"
"Then we will warn her, and she can either join you, or go to Spain to the Duke d'Alba, or to her brother the Viceroy of Naples. But now you must write the letter, for time flies." Isabella began to write; but although she had a wonderful facility in composition, words now seemed to fail her; she hesitated and kept beginning anew: many and deep feelings, as may be easily imagined, disturbed her mind. At last the letter was written, and she said:
"See, Lionardo, if it reads well; I never in my life composed anything with more difficulty than this letter. Forget that you are the Infarinato, I beg of you—"
"Let us begin."
"'Most honored Queen: one related to you by ties of blood, the only surviving daughter of Cosimo dei Medici, entreats you to save her life. Permit me to be silent as to whether I am innocent or guilty of the crime which my death is intended to expiate; but if guilty, let my youth, the absence of my husband, opportunity, the examples set before me, and a woman's heart overflowing with love, plead for me, as one not entirely unworthy of pardon. I have much to fear from the Duke of Bracciano, my husband, and more from my brother Francesco. I confide implicitly in you; give me that assistance which the urgency of the case demands, that it may not be too late. To me, you will preserve life, to your house, fame, and you will perform an act worthy of such a magnanimous Queen, and one for which God will amply reward you. I will follow whatever course your prudence may dictate, hoping and wishing to spend in some holy convent, devoted to God's service, the remainder of my miserable life, and to obtain through His mercy, remission of my sins."
"'To Catherine, Queen of France.'"
"It seems right to me; copy it, and add that an answer should be directed to me."