Then and Now (3 page)

They were nearing Imola. It was situated on a river in a fertile plain, and the surrounding country showed none of the ravages of war, since it had capitulated on the approach of Caesar's forces. When they were about two miles away they met seven or eight horsemen and Machiavelli recognized among them Agapito da Amalia, the Duke's first secretary, whose acquaintance he had made at Urbino. He greeted Machiavelli warmly, and on learning the errand on which he was found, turned back and accompanied him to the city. The Signory had sent a courier a day before to inform their agent at the Duke's court of their envoy's arrival and the courier was waiting for him at the city gate. It had been a long ride and Agapito asked Machiavelli whether he would not like to refresh himself and rest before presenting his credentials to the Duke. Though the army was encamped outside the walls, the small city, now Il Valentino's capital, was crowded with his personal staff, the members of his court, agents of other Italian states, merchants with necessities or luxuries to sell, solicitors of favours, sycophants, spies, actors, poets, loose women, and all the rag tag and bobtail that followed a victorious condottiere in the hope of making money by fair means or foul. The result was that lodging was hard to get. The city's two or three inns were chock-a-block and men were sleeping three, four and five in a bed. But the Florentine agent had made arrangements for Machiavelli and his servants to be put up in the Dominican monastery and it was thither that the courier now suggested conducting him. Machiavelli turned to Agapito.

'If His Excellency can receive me I should prefer to see him at once,' he said.

'I will ride on and find out if he is at liberty. This officer will lead you to the Palace.'

Leaving the man he had indicated behind, Agapito trotted off with the rest of his party. The others walked their horses through the narrow streets till they came to the main square. On the way Machiavelli asked the officer which was the city's best inn.

'I don't fancy the fare those good monks of the monastery will provide and I have no wish to go supperless to bed.'

'The Golden Lion.'

Machiavelli addressed himself to the courier.

'When you have deposited me at the Palace go to the Golden Lion and see that an ample meal is prepared for me.' Then to Piero: 'Attend to the stabling of the horses. The courier will show you the way to the monastery and you will leave the saddle-bags in charge of Antonio.' This was one of his two servants. 'Then you and the courier will come to the Palace and wait for me.'

The Palace, a large, but unpretentious building, for Caterina Sforza who had built it was a thrifty woman, took up one end of the square, and here Machiavelli and the officer, dismounting, were admitted by the guard. The officer sent a soldier to tell the first secretary they were there. In a few minutes he came into the room in which Machiavelli was waiting. Agapito da Amalia was a swarthy man, with long black hair and a small black beard, with a pale skin and sombre, clever eyes. He was a gentleman, with good manners, suave of speech and with a candid air which deceived many into thinking less of his abilities than was wise. He was devoted both to the person and the interest of the Duke, for Il Valentino had the gift of attaching to himself those whose loyalty was necessary to him. He told Machiavelli that the Duke would receive him at once. They ascended a fine flight of stairs and Machiavelli was ushered into a handsome apartment, the walls painted in fresco, with a large stone fireplace on the hood of which were carved the arms of the intrepid, but unfortunate Caterina Sforza whom Caesar Borgia now held prisoner in Rome. A bright fire of logs blazed on the hearth, and the Duke stood with his back to it. The only other person in the room was Juan Borgia, Cardinal of Monreale, the portly, shrewd nephew of Pope Alexander. He was seated in a carved, high-backed chair toasting his toes at the fire.

Machiavelli bowed to the Duke and the Cardinal, and the Duke, coming towards him graciously, took his hand and led him to a chair.

'You must be cold and tired after your long journey, Secretary,' he said. 'Have you eaten?'

'Yes, your Excellency, I ate on the way. I offer you my apologies for presenting myself as I am, in my riding clothes, but I did not wish to delay telling you what I have to say on behalf of the Republic'

He then presented his letter of audience. The Duke gave it a brief glance and handed it to the Secretary. Caesar Borgia was a man of striking beauty, of more than common height, with broad shoulders, a powerful chest and a slim waist. He was dressed in black, which emphasized his vivid colouring, and besides a ring on the index finger of his right hand, his only ornament was the collar of St. Michael, the order which King Louis had conferred upon him. His hair, of a rich auburn and carefully dressed, was worn long and reached his shoulders; he had a moustache and a short beard trimmed to a point. His nose was straight and delicate and his eyes, under well-marked brows, were fine and bold; his well-shaped mouth was sensual; his skin clear and glowing. His gait was stately, yet graceful, and in his bearing was something of majesty. Machiavelli asked himself how it came about that this young man, the offspring of a Roman woman of the people and a fat, hook-nosed Spanish priest who had bought the papacy by shameless simony, had acquired the demeanour of a great prince.

'I requested your government to send me an envoy because I wish to know exactly how I stand with the Republic,' he said with deliberation.

Machiavelli delivered the discourse he had prepared, but though the Duke listened Machiavelli could not but see that he looked upon the assurances of good will to which on the Signory's instructions he gave utterance as no more than fine phrases. There was a moment's silence. The Duke leant back in his chair and with his left hand fingered the order on his breast. When he spoke it was with a certain coolness.

'My dominions border upon yours along an extended frontier. I am bound to take every means in my power to safeguard them. I know only too well that your city is ill-disposed to me. You have tried to embroil me with the Pope and the King of France. You couldn't have treated me worse if I were a murderer. Now you must choose whether you will have me as a friend or as an enemy.'

His voice was musical, light rather than deep, and it had a quality, not acid, but cutting, which gave his words an insolence which was not easy to bear. He might have been speaking to a scullion. But Machiavelli was a practised diplomatist and knew how to keep his temper.

'I can assure Your Excellency that there is nothing my government wants more than your friendship,' he answered blandly, 'but they have not forgotten that you allowed Vitellozzo to invade our territories and they are doubtful of its value.'

'I had nothing to do with that. Vitellozzo acted on his own account.'

'He was in your pay and under your command.'

'The expedition was begun without my knowledge and continued without my aid. I will not pretend I regretted it. I didn't. The Florentines had broken faith with me and it was right that they should suffer for it. But when I thought they had been sufficiently punished I ordered my captains to withdraw. It has won me their enmity and they are now conspiring my overthrow.'

Machiavelli did not think it the moment to remind the Duke that he had recalled his commanders only on the peremptory command of the King of France.

'You are to blame for that, just as you are to blame for Vitellozzo's invasion of your territory.'

'We?' cried Machiavelli in frank astonishment.

'Nothing of this would have happened if you hadn't been such fools as to torture and execute Paolo Vitelli. You can hardly be surprised that his brother Vitellozzo should seek his revenge, and because I prevented him from pursuing it to the end he has turned against me.'

It is necessary to explain what the Duke meant by this.

The Florentines had long been engaged on the siege of Pisa, but things had gone badly and the army of the Republic suffered a severe defeat which the Signory ascribed to the incompetence of their Captain-General; so they engaged two condottieri then in the service of King Louis, Paolo and Vitellozzo Vitelli, and gave the chief command to Paolo, a captain of renown. A battle was fought, a breach was effected in the walls and the army was on the point of storming the city when suddenly Paolo Vitelli gave the order to retreat. Though he said he had done this to save further loss of life since he was sure of the city's surrender on conditions, the Signory was convinced that he was playing them false, and sent two commissioners ostensibly to furnish funds but in fact to seize the persons of the two generals. Paolo Vitelli was quartered about a mile beyond Cascina, and the commissioners requested him to meet them there so that they might discuss with him the conduct of the war. They gave him dinner and then, leading him into a secret chamber, arrested him. He was taken to Florence and beheaded, though under torture he would not admit his guilt.

'Paolo Vitelli was a traitor,' said Machiavelli.' 'He had a fair trial and was found guilty. He suffered the just punishment of his crime.'

'Whether he was innocent or guilty is no matter. To execute him was a blunder.'

'It was necessary for our honour to act with energy against enemies of the Republic. It was necessary to show that Florence has the courage to provide for her safety.'

'Why then did you leave his brother alive?'

Machiavelli irritably shrugged his shoulders. It was a sore point.

'Men were sent to fetch Vitellozzo and bring him to Cascina. He suspected a trap. He was ill in bed. He asked for time to dress and somehow managed to escape. The affair was bungled. How can you provide always against the stupidity of the people you have to act through?'

The Duke's laugh was light and gay. His eyes sparkled with good humour.

'It is an error to keep to a plan when circumstances have arisen that make its execution inadvisable. When Vitellozzo slipped through your fingers you should have taken Paolo to Florence, and instead of throwing him into a dungeon housed him in the best apartment of the Palazzo Vecchio. You should have tried him and whatever the evidence declared him innocent. Then you should have restored his command to him, increased his pay, and bestowed on him the highest honours at the disposal of the Republic. You should have convinced him that you had entire confidence in him.'

'With the result that he would have betrayed us to our enemies.'

'That might have been his intention, but for a while he would have had so to act as to prove that the trust you placed in him was justified. These mercenary captains are avaricious and will do anything for money. You might have made offers to Vitellozzo so handsome that he could not have brought himself to refuse; he would have rejoined his brother, and when you had lulled them into security, with a little ingenuity you could have found a suitable occasion to kill them both swiftly and without trial.'

Machiavelli went red in the face.

'Such treachery would have an eternal blot on the fair name of Florence,' he cried.

'Traitors must be dealt with treacherously. A state is not governed by the exercise of Christian virtues, it is governed by prudence, boldness, determination and ruthlessness.'

At this moment an officer came into the room and in a whisper spoke to Agapito da Amalia. Il Valentino, frowning at the interruption, with impatient fingers drummed on the table at which he sat.

'His Excellency is occupied,' said Agapito. 'They must wait.'

'What is it?' asked the Duke sharply.

'Two Gascon soldiers have been caught looting, Excellency. They have been brought here under guard with the objects they seized.'

'It would be a pity to make the subjects of the King of France wait,' said the Duke, smiling faintly. 'Let them be brought in.'

The officer went out and the Duke amiably addressed himself to Machiavelli.

'You will excuse me if I attend to a little matter of business.'

'My time is at your Excellency's disposal.'

'I trust you had no adventures on the road, Secretary.'

Machiavelli took his cue from the Duke's tone.

'None. I was fortunate to find an inn at Scarperia where I was given a tolerable meal.'

'It is my desire that men should travel in my dominions as safely as it is said they travelled in the Roman Empire of the Antonines. While you are here you will have opportunity to see for yourself that now that I have dispossessed those petty tyrants who were the curse of Italy I have by wise administration done much to render the lives of my people secure and prosperous.'

There was a noise without of shuffling feet, voices were raised, and then, the great doors of the spacious chamber being flung open, a crowd surged in. First came the officer who had come in before, and he was followed by two men who from their respectable dress Machia-velli guessed must be dignitaries of the city. On their heels came two women, one old, the other middle-aged, and with them an elderly man of decent appearance. Then came a soldier carrying a pair of silver candlesticks, and another with an ornamental goblet of silver gilt and two silver platters. They wore the red and yellow uniform of the Duke's own troops. Then, half pushed, half dragged by soldiers entered two men with their hands tied behind their backs. They were shabby in nondescript garments and, standing among the Duke's uniformed men, looked a ruffianly pair. One was a scowling fellow of forty, of powerful physique, with a thick black beard and a livid scar on his forehead, and the other a smooth-faced boy with a sallow skin and shifty, frightened eyes.

'Stand forward,' said the Duke.

The two men were given a shove.

'What is the charge?'

It appeared that the house of the two women had been broken into when they were at mass and the silverware stolen.

'How can you prove these articles were your property?'

'Monna Brigida is my cousin, Excellency,' said one of the two respectable men. 'I know the articles well. They were part of her dowry.'

The other confirmed this. The Duke turned to the elderly man who seemed to be with the two women.