"In my eyes certainly," said Lorenzo drily, for there was something in the tone of the man he did not like.
"Marry her soon--marry her soon," said Cæsar Borgia, "a peach should always be tasted ere it is too ripe. I envy you your privileges, sir. I who am bound to a sour life of celibacy, may well think you happy who are free and blessed."
Lorenzo rose and raised his bonnet from the floor where he had cast it, as if to depart.
"Stay, stay," said Ramiro d'Orco, "these French-bred gentlemen, my lord cardinal, are very touchy upon some points. They understand no jests where their lady loves are concerned. We in Italy, and especially you in Rome, are somewhat too light-tongued upon such matters."
"Well, then, let us talk of other things," cried Borgia, starting up with a look entirely changed, the soft, indolent, almost effeminate expression gone, the eye fiery and the lips stern and grim. "You are right, Ramiro: we are too light-tongued in such matters. I meant not to offend you, sir, but as yet you are unaccustomed to our manners here. I wished to see and speak with you from the reports I have heard of you. You have, I think, served the King of France well---marvellously well for one so young. I have heard of your doings at Vivizano, and I have heard moreover that you are high in the personal esteem of Charles of France himself. Nay, more, it seems, by what means I know not, but they must be extraordinary, for scripture says the deaf adder stoppeth her ears and will not heart she voice of the charmer--it seems, I say, that by some means, you have won the confidence of Julian of Rovera, an enemy of me and of my father's house. With both this cardinal and this king you must have opportunities of private communication."
He kept his eye fixed upon Lorenzo's face while he spoke, marking every change of expression, and probably adapting his discourse to all he saw there; for no man was ever more terribly endowed with that serpent power of persuasion which bends and alters the wills and opinions of others, not by opposing force to force, but by instilling our thoughts in the garb of theirs into the minds of even our opponents. By that power how many did he bring to destruction, how many did he lure to death!
"I wish not," he continued, "to lead you to do or say aught that can be prejudicial to the King of France. I know that you are incapable of it; but it is for that very reason I have desired to see you. I seek no communication with those whom I can buy, and who the day after will sell themselves to another. I desire to address myself to one eager to serve his lord, and who will dare to tell him the truth, even if it be first spoken by the mouth of an enemy. Such a man I believe you to be, Signor Visconti, and therefore I sought this interview. Now, sir, King Charles is surrounded with men who will not let the truth reach his ears. You may ask why? what is their object? I will tell you. They have Rome in their power. My father, it is true, is safe up there--but still Rome is theirs; and, if they can but prevail upon the King of France, by false statements--by cunning persuasions--by the suppression or distortion of facts--to use his advantage ungenerously, they calculate upon forcing his Holiness to buy them wholesale. Ay, buy them, sir; for there are not two in all the king's council who cannot be bought--by benefices, by gold, by estates, by dignities. This is the reason they keep the truth from the monarch's mind; for they well know that, if his position and his duties were once clearly stated to him, full peace and alliance would soon be re-established between the crown of France and the Holy See; and they would be deprived of the power of extracting from my father the last ducat in his treasury, the last benefice in his gift. Do you understand me?"
"Methinks I do," answered Lorenzo, who had seen good reason to believe that Borgia's view of the characters of the French counsellors was not far from the truth. "But what is it, your Eminence, that the King of France should know that he does not know? He has about his person many a clear-sighted military man who is competent to perceive the truth and too honest to conceal it."
"Not exactly, my young friend," replied the cardinal; "the truth is not always so easy a thing to find as you imagine. The negotiators, at all events, have the king's ear--civilians or ecclesiastics--all. We know not that these military friends of yours have discovered the whole truth; or, if they have, that they have revealed it. Now, what I wish is, that you--you, Lorenzo Visconti, should learn the whole truth, and should seize the very first opportunity of telling it to the king. I will give you a correct and accurate statement of the true position of affairs--at least, as I see them. If I am wrong, your own clear mind will detect the error: for, of course, though I cannot pretend to speak without some prejudice, you can have none. An Italian by birth--about to wed an Italian lady, many of your sympathies must be with us, while gratitude and education afford a fair counterpoise in favour of France. But listen to my statement."
He then went on with the most skilful and artful, but apparently the most unpremeditated eloquence, to set before the young knight a totally different view of the questions between Alexander and the King of France. He dwelt long and severely upon the scandal to all Christendom exhibited by the eldest son of the Church--a title of which French monarchs had ever been proud--forcing his way into the holy city, contrary to the repeated injunctions of the Church's head. He asked if it were the part of one who pretended and hoped to drive back the wave of Mahomedan invasion from Europe and plant the Cross itself in Constantinople, to commence his enterprise by setting at nought the power and authority of the Vicar of Christ, driving him from his home to take refuge in a fortress, to despoil him of his means, and to trample on his dignity. "They speak ill of his Holiness, indeed," continued Borgia, "they calumniate him and misrepresent all that he does. Let us even admit, however, all that they say against him, that he has the passions which afflict all men of ardent temperaments--that he has at times indulged the propensities common to all men--that he has done openly, in short, and without hypocrisy, all that his predecessors have done covertly and hypocritically--that he calls his son his son, and not his nephew--never forgetting, however, that all these faults occurred before his elevation to the holy see; but granting all, admitting every charge, I will ask you, Lorenzo, if these faults of the man, which affect not the holy office, are so great a scandal to the Church as to see the first of--I had almost said pretended--the first of Christian monarchs set at nought the authority, oppress the person, and plunder the property of the representative of the apostles? But I have dwelt too long upon this aspect of the question. Perhaps it does not affect you; it may not affect the King of France, and I did not intend to speak of it at length. I meant to deal with the political view of the case--of that which touches the king's material interests, and I now turn to that."