"That was when you left me for a time, on my taking service with Venice."
"True, your worship; I had no mind for the galleys," and Jacopo shuddered at the recollection of his recent voyage. "My courage," he continued, "is firm enough on firm ground, but when the sea plays cup and ball with me, I have no soul to think of my own salvation, let alone fighting. Ohime! But on that villainous craft we have left, there were times when I was only too anxious not to live."
I smiled as I inquired, "And after your service with the Orsini where did you go?"
"Well, your worship, no sooner did Count Carlo drive those scorpions of the Colonna and Borgia back to Rome, than the Most Serene Republic must needs step in and cause peace to be made. This threw me and sundry other honest fellows out of employment, and on to the edge of starvation, so we boldly rode into Rome, and changing from the bear to the bull, tendered our services to the Borgia, and they were snapped up I can tell you. I was lucky enough to find a master in the Duke of Gandia."
"Lucky, you call it."
"Ay, your worship! for Giovanni Borgia had an open purse and a free hand. I was with him until he was murdered, and then, affairs being warm in Rome, and hearing you had come back from the sea, why, I came back to the old banner."
"It is said that Gandia was murdered by the Cardinal Ascanio Sforza."
"Indeed no, your excellency! I saw the deed done. It was in this way: the Duke and his brother Cesare, then Cardinal of Valencia, supped at the house of their mother, the Lady Vannozza. After supper they must needs walk home together; I was the Duke's sole attendant, but Cesare was accompanied by his cut-throat Michelotto and half-a-dozen others. On the way some mention was made of Donna Sancia, Don Giuffré's wife, and the brothers came to blows. The Cardinal stabbed the Duke with his own hand, and he gave a great cry and fell down dead. Seeing it was no use trying to help a dead man, and being in no hurry to trouble St. Peter myself, I knocked down the strangler Michelotto, and making a run for it, escaped with a whole skin. The body of the Duke was flung into the Tiber, and was discovered by a charcoal monger of the Ripetta, whom Cesare hanged at Tor di Nona, as a reward for his intelligence. They buried the Duke, as you know, signore, in Santa Maria del Popolo--poor man!"
"And you mean to say that this was never known to the Pope?"
"I never said anything about that, your worship; a secret cannot be kept by half-a-dozen, and I dare swear our Lord knows all about it or else the Cardinal Ascanio would hardly be in the Cesarini as he is. These things, however, must not be spoken of in Rome. Men's tongues should be weighted with lead when the Borgia's name crops up."