Another incident which took place at Milan during Isabella's visit, and could not fail to inspire her with the keenest interest, was the arrival of a marble Leda and a number of other antiques that were sent to the duke from Rome, by the goldsmith Caradosso. After the flight of Piero de' Medici and the revolution which had taken place in Florence, Lodovico sent this well-known connoisseur to try and acquire some of the priceless marbles or gems from the Magnificent Lorenzo's collection. But the Florentine magistrates wisely declined to part from these objects of art, which were now the property of the nation, and after Christmas Caradosso went on to Rome. He arrived there to find the French army in possession of the city and everything in the greatest confusion, but in the end succeeded in securing several valuable antiques. The cardinals, to whom Caradosso obtained introductions through Ascanio Sforza, were glad to ingratiate themselves with the powerful Duke of Milan at this critical moment, and the artist was able to inform his master that Cardinal di Monreale had given him a marble Leda—a really good antique, though some limbs of it were missing—and that other prelates had made him liberal offers.
"The Cardinal of Parma asked me yesterday what brought me to Rome. I told him I had come, by your Excellency's desire, to see if I could find any beautiful works in bronze or marble that were to be had for gold. Monsignore asked me if you really cared for these things. I replied, 'Yes, undoubtedly.' Upon which the Most Reverend informed me that he had an antique statue, and begged me to come and see if I thought that you would like it, as if so, he should be glad to send it as a present to your Excellency. I have seen it, and it is decidedly good.... Monsignore di Sanseverino has promised to show me some fine things, and I hear that Monsignore Colonna and the Cardinal of Siena have also some good things, but, unluckily, they are both of them away from Rome. Since I am here I must do my best to play the rogue. I hope to have enough to load a bark shortly, and send statues to Genoa and to Milan. Meanwhile I should be glad if you would write and thank the Cardinal of Parma for his statue, because it may induce him to send you some more fine works of art, and your gratitude may lead others, who are anxious to gain your Excellency's favour, to follow his example and send you some more beautiful objects, so that the world may become aware how far you surpass all other princes both in magnanimity and in the delight which you take in this most laudable pursuit. On my return to Florence, I will make another effort to obtain some of the precious objects which I saw there, and perhaps this time affairs may be in better order, and I may be more successful in obeying the orders of your Excellency, to whom I commend myself.
"Your servant,
Caradosso de Mundo.
Roma, February, 1495."
No one sympathized more truly with Lodovico's passion for collecting antiques, or appreciated the treasures of art which he had brought together in the Castello, more fully than Isabella d'Este. As before, this brilliant princess charmed all hearts at Milan. When she asked a favour, whether it was of Count Pallavicino or Madonna Cecilia, of Messer Lorenzo or Gian Bellini, no one could refuse her prayer. When she received the Venetian ambassadors, the grace and gallantry of her bearing were irresistible. Whatever she did was done well. Her high spirits never failed, her strength never seemed to tire. She could ride all day and dance all night. She could answer Gaspare Visconti's verses in impromptu rhymes, and keep up animated literary controversies with Niccolo da Correggio and Messer Galeaz, or discuss grave political questions with the duke in the wisest and most sagacious manner. "As usual," wrote her secretary Capilupi, "Madonna's gracious ways and lively conversation have charmed every one here, most of all the Signor Duca, who calls her his dear daughter, and always makes her dine with him."
If Lodovico took pleasure in Isabella's company, Beatrice's warm heart glowed with tender affection for the sister whose presence recalled her dead mother and the home of her youth, while Isabella's love for children could not resist the advances of her little nephew Ercole, who followed his aunt about the rooms of the Castello and made her laugh till the tears ran down her cheeks. But the happy peace of these days was destined to be rudely disturbed. Suddenly, on the last day of the month, news reached Milan that the King of France had entered Naples and been crowned King of the Sicilies in the cathedral on the 22nd of February. The young king Ferrante had fled to Ischia with the rest of the royal family, and throughout his dominions the people flocked out along the roads to hail the victor's coming, and welcomed him with shouts of joy. Great was the consternation at the Milanese court that evening, and Isabella wrote to her husband—
"So complete and sudden a downfall appears almost impossible both to this illustrious lord, the duke, and to us all. It would indeed have been impossible were it not a Divine judgment. This sad case must be an example to all the kings and powers of the world, and will, I hope, teach them to value the love of their subjects more than all their fortresses, treasures, and men-at-arms, for, as we see now, the discontent of the people is more dangerous to a monarch than all the might of his enemies on the battle-field."
The bad news threw a gloom over the gay party in the Castello. All the pleasure and feasting of the Carnival, all the mirth of the dancing and feasting, died away. Isabella and Beatrice thought sadly of their cousin Ferrante, the chivalrous young prince who was a favourite with all his kinsfolk, and his sister, the widowed Duchess Isabella, shed bitter tears over this fresh sorrow. Even comedies and pageants lost their old gaiety and became dull and tedious. "To me this Carnival seems a thousand years long," sighed Isabella d'Este, in a letter to her husband, deploring her prolonged absence and complaining that the duke would not allow her to leave before a certain day, fixed by his astrologer. By the middle of March, however, she returned to Mantua, followed by the most sincere regrets and liveliest expressions of affection on the part of both her sister and brother-in-law.
"In all her actions," wrote Lodovico to the Marquis of Mantua, "this worthy Madonna has shown so much charm and excellence, that, although we rejoice to think you will soon enjoy her presence, we cannot but feel great regret at the loss of her sweet company, and when she leaves us to-morrow, I must confess we shall seem to be deprived of a part of ourselves."
And a week later Beatrice wrote to her sister, "I cannot tell you often enough how strange and sad the departure of your Highness has seemed to me this time. Wherever I turn, in the house or out-of-doors, I seem to see your face before my eyes, and when I find myself deceived, and realize that you are really gone, you will understand how sore my distress has been—nay, how great it still is. And you, I think, will have felt the same grief, because of the love between us. Even little Ercole misses you, and keeps on asking continually in his childish fashion for his aunt, and crying 'Cia, cia!' and he seems quite lost when he cannot find you anywhere."[59]