Filippo Maria Visconti

“ The ducal secretaries found themselves compelled to suppose, to invent. Nicole Gilles, the chief of them, declared that Filippo Maria Visconti had married Madame 261Bonne, daughter of King John of France (a lady who had she existed, would have been a good forty years older than her husband) , by whom he had two girls, Valentine, who married the Duke of Orleans, and Bonne, who married the lord of Montauban in Brittany. Besides these he had a bastard child, Bianca Maria, the wife of Sforza. ”

“ And the Visconti banner floated out dreamily upon the light spring breeze, and the rider rode at ease and read from the parchment with a smiling face.
Suddenly the old man rose, and threw out his hands with a wild gesture toward the crouching peasants. His frantic cry was stifled on his lips, and a cut from the whip sent him back to his seat with a snarl of impotent fury. The woman sobbed aloud, but sat still, for the tease of the whip followed their slightest movements, though the horseman seemed to heed nothing but the parchment from which he read. ”

“ The liberated army of Milan was soon remounted, equipped, and in the field; for most of these battles involved the waste of more money than blood, as dead men paid no ransoms; and Visconti had ample resources. He nevertheless became alarmed at his actual position, and sought new strength by rousing the emperor Sigismund against Venice, by marrying his daughter Maria to the duke of Savoy, and by stirring up the poor remnants of the Carrara and La Scala families to agitate Padua and Verona. ”

“ A Visconti!... I might—have known——"
Frantically he pulled at them, while Visconti, now moving almost at a walk, looked dreamily ahead at the fast nearing city.
"Fiend!" cried Carrara wildly. "Fiend!"
And he lurched forward, falling heavily onto the road, where he lay, convulsed, the turquoise gloves still on his hands.
Gian Maria drew rein now, and looked down at him, [Pg 189] his face no longer indifferent, as he looked down into the white and contorted countenance of the dying man.
"'Whom did you murder here, Visconti?'" he quoted. "'Whoever it be, do not fear him now, since he is dead' ”

“ But rumour had been ahead of him by a day and a half, and the rumour ran, not that Facino was dying, but that he was already dead.
In all the instances history affords of poetic justice to give pause to those who offend against God and Man, none is more arresting than that of the fate of Gian Maria Visconti. ”

“ He turned from the window to Giannotto, and his face had lost its lines.
"Well?" he asked. "What think you?"
"This is a master-stroke of temptation, my lord. You have always found craft a good servant."
"It would not serve me well in thee," said Visconti with a sudden glance. "Now, see to it that parchment is dispatched, Giannotto, and by a trusty messenger, and with no delay."
"I will give it to Ricardo with my own hands, my lord," said Giannotto. "He is the best man we have since Filippo was wounded this morning in a skirmish by the western gate." ”

“ The peasants of Lombardy lived in the shadow of an awful name. Gian Galeazzo Maria Visconti knew neither fear of God nor man, neither pity nor remorse.
The young Florentine sank down upon the grass, and looked after the retreating train in mute distress. To seek for help would mean to leave his cousin, and he could not move him. Tomaso lay in a deep swoon, for the blow had driven him back upon a stone. ”

“ To be in a position to dictate to such a man! Giacomo stood in the gathering dusk, waiting for the dark, his eyes on the castle that held Gian Galeazzo Maria Visconti, Duke of Milan—a prisoner.
* * * * *
"The storm nears: how hot, good St. Hubert, how hot!" And Conrad tossed the damp curls back from his forehead. The entrance of his tent was flung open to admit what little air there might be, showing to the soldiers without Conrad and Vincenzo bending over a game of chess; on a table near were flasks of wine and elegant glasses; along the floor Vittore lay, half in a heavy sleep. ”

“ A couple of her women moved forward from the shadows, and whispered to the Duke they could do nothing with her. He motioned to them to withdraw.
"Valentine, come! Think of the splendid life that opens before thee from to-day." Visconti's tone had the gentleness of one who has gained his point. "Thou may'st be Queen of France." But Valentine Visconti had too much of her brother's spirit, too much of the ungovernable pride of will, not to hate this yielding to the force of power. She hated her brother's tyranny. She hated this marriage. ”

“ Our house overlooks the western gates, and [Pg 44] all day long the messengers had come and sped, bringing the news the Duke was here. Toward evening—we leaning from the window as did everyone—Alberic da Salluzzo comes galloping to the walls—red-hot upon some report that the Visconti has been slain—to look to the arming of the citizens. Even as we strain from the window, following the flash of his plumes—back he comes in madder haste—the Visconti is alive! ”

“ She stood silent in the glory of the sunshine and held out her hands, and he kissed them, and looked at her and laughed pleasantly.
[Pg 246]
"Now art thou happy, donna mia?" he said. "Hast thou all that thou couldst wish?"
"More than I ever dreamed of, my lord," she answered softly. "I did not know the world could be so beautiful—or so happy."
"'Tis but a small return, Graziosa, my beloved, for what thou hast done for me," returned Visconti. "And I will make it more—this is but an earnest of the future. Visconti's wife shall live in such splendor that men shall not see her for its dazzle." ”

“ But Visconti's sister took no heed; she gathered up her reins and signed to her escort to move on.
"Of course," she said, "why should it interest thee?—there is nothing there—it is only a small, mean church, where a poor, obscure traitor lies on his bier." She looked around the startled faces with a bitter scorn on her own. "Who has heard of him?—one Agnolo Vistarnini—killed by the Duke's orders, killed by thy lover's orders, in the very hour that ye betrayed him to him, Graziosa Vistarnini!" ”

“ Della Scala, Duke of Verona, had owned fair lands and wide, Verona, Brescia, all now in Visconti's hands. The secretary wondered, as he thought, how long it would be before the triumphant Gian threw away the mere rag of respect, the mere mockery of a title which bound him to the Empire, and became King of Lombardy in name as well as power.
"And thou thyself, my lord," he said. "Thou wilt marry a Valois to thy sister! Who will be thy bride?"
Visconti smiled. "These marriages are for ambition. Dost thou think I shall marry for ambition? No, Giannotto, I have placed myself above need of that. ”

“ The shade of Visconti's face deepened as he looked at her: compared to his sister, Graziosa was a candle beside the sun; the contrast did not please Gian.
D'Orleans rose and bowed low to the lady, yet in a way that was not respectful.
"So there has been a challenge from the enemy," he lisped. "Now I shall love to see a single meeting of brave swords again."
"Who said so?" asked Visconti. He came slowly down the steps; his manner had quite changed, and his eyes were on his sister.
"The Lady Valentine," said the Frenchman. ”

“ The husband of Valentine was for many years the tool with which the astute Visconti hoped to assure his own supremacy in Italy. In 1393 and in 1394 Visconti had no dearer scheme than that Clement, the Antipope at Avignon, should make the Duke of Orleans king of Adria. With Clement at Rome, Anjou at Naples, Orleans ruling the centre from Spoleto to Ferrara, Visconti beheld the annihilation of Venice and the Tuscan republics—a united Italy north of 185Rome. ”

“ And he handed the parchment back, dismissing Giannotto with the gesture.
[Pg 110]
Clearly Visconti was in a mood that held neither comment nor reward, but one the secretary was glad to escape from so easily. With a deep obeisance he departed.
"Who bribes the woman to comfort Isotta d'Este? The soldiers are to be trusted," mused Visconti. "Once I know I will remember it."
He drew from his doublet the velvet gloves of turquoise hue and laid them on the table.
They were beautiful in their perfect workmanship, huge gauntlets fringed with pearl and gold, and tasseled at the points with rubies. ”

“ CHAPTER THREE THE HOSTAGE OF THE ESTES
"A hundred thousand florins—and no more, even if they refuse the bargain."
It was the Visconti who spoke. In a small dark room in the Visconti palace, he and the pale-faced, red-haired man, who had held the bridle of his horse two days before in the procession that had wended toward Brescia, were seated opposite to one another at the table; between them a pile of papers over which the secretary bowed his shoulders.
"The demand is a hundred and fifty, my lord," he said, his voice meek, his eyes furtive. ”

“ He is a fool, Giannotto, who thinks that because a woman is a prisoner she is powerless—let him remember her tongue."
"My lord, she may have thought the lady knew," faltered Giannotto.
"Silence!" cried Visconti. "She may have thought I wanted to give Isotta d'Este her liberty! Ah, let her beware! Graziosa, too; why did she not tell her that she lied? Had I not said he lived? Has she no spirit—no dignity—to shame me by her silence and her moans!" ”

“ He paused outside Visconti's door, and the secretary smoothed a smile from his face, and, tapping slightly, entered with a silent, cringing movement.
The chamber was dark, although it was full noonday. Visconti had no love for the sunlight, and even the narrow windows were obscured and shrouded in dark purple. ”

“ And with the end of his dagger he drove the paper into the crevice of the stone. "I never loved Verona," he added, with an evil smile.
But Visconti had not heard, nor was he heeding him; his eyes were riveted upon the door.
Again Padua raised the lantern above his head.
The glimmering light fell faintly on a dark chamber, and dimly lit a large black couch from which the tapestry coverlet was half dragged off. Visconti peered an instant over his rescuer's shoulder eagerly, then fell back.
"I cannot," he said sullenly. "I will stay and face Della Scala—I cannot pass that way." ”

“ Escape is impossible."
"By so much the more that thy head will answer for it."
As he spoke, Visconti flung wide one of a ring of doors opening from the chamber, and stepped into a posse of soldiers. No one spoke. Glancing keenly to the right and left, Visconti passed through their ranks into the room beyond,—a small apartment, dim lit and hung with arras. An old woman sat at a tapestry frame with her back to the door, but at Visconti's entrance she rose, as at something expected, and sank in a deep obeisance. ”

“ Visconti turned them over hastily, till he came upon a document hung with the seals of Verona, a cartel of defiance, neatly endorsed in a clerkly hand, and signed in large, bold writing, "Mastino della Scala."
Eagerly he turned to the cover of the packet, and laid the two writings side by side. They were the same.
Visconti leaned against the black chest, breathing heavily, his face not good to look on in its white devilry.
"He lives! Della Scala lives!" he cried, and struck at himself in his rage. Then his gaze came back to the blood-stained parchment crumpled in his hand. ”

“ But perchance it would not be given thee to take revenge—perchance thou wouldst fall lower and lower, and be crushed after all and have gained nothing! Ah, Ligozzi, is this the beginning? Have I not pitted courage and high purpose, and honorable dealing and a righteous cause, against craft and cruelty and force? And to what end? Visconti triumphs. Always Visconti! What availed honor and faith when Visconti's cunning and Count Conrad's folly made the plans of weeks naught! ”

“ She had all she needed now, and was turning in relief to go, when, struck by another thought, she bent again over the coffer, lifted the contents out on to the floor.
Visconti's doublets were mostly too splendid for her purpose, but she seized the plainest, wrapped it in her mantle, snatched one of the daggers from the table. Then making rapidly through the rifled room, with a breathless prayer of gratitude for safety, she stealthily pushed open the door on to the balcony, and saw the sunlight and her page's eager face.
"Shut the door," she whispered. "Climb up and shut the top bolt." ”

“ Asti should be confided to a person equally trusted by Orleans and Milan, and after the expiration of a given term should be freely handed back to the eldest son of Valentine. Notwithstanding this fair-spoken scheme, Visconti finds it necessary to caution his young ally against certain persons on the French side of the Alps who use threats and menaces towards the Crown of Milan. By these it is clear that he intends his nephews of Orleans. He has no friendship for them. ”

“ We will be quiet, though, I promise you, until the Duke is past——" And to Isotta at her side she whispered, holding her hand tight, "Thou wilt ruin all; control thyself."
But the unfortunate Isotta was calm enough now; she followed Valentine without resistance.
And now Carrara's army had reached the gates, and fell back to await Visconti. The whole city was in tumult, the streets filling with excited people; there was mad shouting, the clash of arms. "A Visconti! a Visconti!"
"We shall be crushed to death," said Adrian. "I must find you shelter, lady," and he looked around eagerly. ”