"Could I gain him," thought Visconti, in his musings, "I could stand without the Empire, without France, and use my captive as I please and not as they dictate."
To the Estes and Julia Gonzaga he gave no thought; well he knew they were not likely to desert Mastino—but Carrara——
Meanwhile, he threw his whole strength against the opposing army, keeping it at bay, gaining time—and planning.
But Mastino della Scala's object was not to lose time in idle skirmishes. Brilliant success had fallen to his share, not one reverse had marred his short campaign, and it is not the policy of the victor to dally with time, rather to seize the chances each day offers, while yet fortune smiles on him.
But well Della Scala knew that neither honor, nor pity, nor shame, but fear alone, would restrain Gian Maria Visconti from venting his hatred on Isotta d'Este.
Still, he kept up a stout heart. Visconti dare not! To make assurance doubly sure, he used all his influence at the court of Rome to procure the aid of the Church against the Duke of Milan.
Many a time had he rendered powerful help to the Pope, and, as his present position stood, might do so yet again; and the result of his appeal was a grave embassy from the Pope to Visconti, threatening him with excommunication and the sword of the Church should he dare to touch Isotta d'Este.
For the first, Visconti cared little; twice had the Church thrown him out, and each time he had laughed at it and emerged triumphant; but now his position was more perilous than it had ever been since he mounted the throne of Milan, and he dare not treat this mandate of the Church as he had done the others.
The Pope's temporal power too was great; were that once turned against him, even with the Empire's aid he could hardly stand; so Visconti answered them with fair words, pledging his honor for the Duchess of Verona's life.
One bright summer morning, Visconti sat at the open window of his palace, thinking.