LUCREZIA BORGIA

One summer day, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, a splendid fête was being held in the gardens of the Barberigo Palace in Venice; and amongst the gay company of guests thronging the fairy-like grounds were many bearers of the proudest and most ancient names in Italy.

One of the chief guests was the brilliant young Duke Orsini, around whom there quickly gathered a group of lively friends, all of whom, with one exception, could boast of noble birth. Nor, strange to say, was this one guest of unknown ancestry despised by his companions; but, on the other hand, he was fêted and admired above all others present. For young Gennaro, who knew nothing of his parentage and was not ashamed to reveal the fact that his early years had been spent under the guardianship of an old fisherman, had, on entering the Venetian army, quickly made a name for himself by his remarkable prowess in the recent warfare; and his heroic deeds, coupled with his handsome looks and charming disposition, had won for him great popularity and many friends, amongst whom even the aristocratic Orsini was proud to be numbered.

The principal subject of conversation amongst the guests was, as usual, the most recent atrocity committed by some member of the mighty Borgia family, who at that time held the chief power in Italy, and were universally feared and detested for their unscrupulous conduct and deeds of cold-blooded cruelty; and as the Orsini were amongst their most hated enemies, the young Duke did not hesitate to represent them in the worst possible light to his companions.

To-day, he dwelt on the many heartlessly cruel achievements of the Lady Lucrezia Borgia, who, although one of the most lovely and fascinating women of her time, had inherited her family's pride and love of power, and, like her brother Cæsar, did not scruple to use violent means to satisfy her passions or ambitions. A thrust in the dark or a poisoned draught rewarded those who presumed to interfere with the schemes of the powerful Borgias; and their victims were of all ranks, from the lowest to the highest.

The young Gennaro, fresh from deeds of honour and chivalry, soon sickened at the recital of deeds of treachery; and being overcome by the excessive heat, he presently stretched himself on the ground in a shady spot near the water, and fell asleep. When he had thus left the group, Orsini, proud of his young friend, began to relate to his companions the stirring story of Gennaro's heroic conduct in the recent battle of Rimini; and shortly afterwards, they wandered away to another part of the grounds.

Presently, a gondola glided silently past the festive grounds; and a lady who sat within, noticing the sleeping form of Gennaro on the bank near the water's edge, and being greatly struck with his exceeding beauty, landed and stepped lightly to his side.

This lady was none other than the notorious Lucrezia Borgia herself, who, though come on a secret mission to Venice, did not hesitate to enter boldly into the midst of her enemies, merely for the sake of gratifying an impulse of the moment.

As she silently bent over the handsome sleeping youth, a feeling of great tenderness for him suddenly welled up within Lucrezia's heart, for she now recognised him as her own son, the child born of a secret amour of her first early youth; and trembling with the excitement of her newly-awakened maternal love, and her delight in the beauty of her offspring, she raised his hand and kissed it softly.

At her salute, the young man awakened, greatly confused at finding himself thus alone with such a dazzling stranger; for Lucrezia was still young and beautiful, and her wonderful fascination was quickly felt by Gennaro, who made friends with her at once, and was soon engaged in pleasant conversation with her. He told her his story with all the trusting confidence of early youth; describing to her how he had been left as an infant with the old fisherman who had brought him up, and how, after joining the Venetian army, he had seemed to lead a charmed existence, modestly refraining from dwelling upon his more recent exploits.

So delighted was the youth with the sympathy and kindness of the lady, that he begged her to reveal her name to him; but this Lucrezia refused to do, for she did not wish to destroy his evident respect for her by disclosing her identity, nor did she dare to acknowledge her true relationship to him, having kept his birth a secret all these years.

But as she turned to leave him, Orsini and his companions returned to seek their friend; and instantly recognising the lady, whose face was well known to all of them, they denounced her to Gennaro as the detested Lucrezia Borgia, whose hateful deeds they had so recently described to him.

But, though Gennaro was shocked at this announcement, he had already so completely fallen under the fascination of Lucrezia that he took every opportunity of seeing her that arose; and his friendship with her was strengthened by frequent meetings.

Their evident affection for each other was ere long noticed by Lucrezia's husband, the Duke Alphonso of Ferrara, in whose breast jealousy was quickly roused to such a pitch that he vowed vengeance upon the pair, and eagerly watched for an opportunity of satisfying his wrath.

The young Duke Orsini and his companions were also greatly disturbed by their young friend's infatuation for one of the hated Borgia family; and they did all in their power, by means of scoldings and taunts, to draw him away from Lucrezia's wiles, knowing only too well that such an intimacy would certainly end disastrously for the young man.

But Gennaro, who felt himself attracted by some mighty force towards the beautiful woman who showed such tender affection for him, although unable to define the feeling he had for her, continued his new intimacy in spite of the warnings of his friends; yet at times their taunts stung him bitterly, for he knew well the evil character which Lucrezia had earned for herself, and he would then despise himself for allowing her to exercise such a strange fascination over him.

On one such occasion as this, having met with his friends in the public square in front of the Borgia Palace at Ferrara, and being taunted by them more bitterly than usual, he gave vent to a passionate outburst of anger against Lucrezia; and, heedless of consequences, he dashed up to the palace door, and recklessly struck off the first letter of her name with the short dagger he wore.

This rash deed was observed by the Duke of Ferrara himself, who at once ordered his attendants to make the young man a prisoner and hold him in the palace. He then caused the defacing of the family name to be made known to Lucrezia, who, unaware that the deed had been committed by Gennaro, and only feeling rage at the insult, demanded that the culprit should be seized and put to death; and the Duke, gloating over the chance that had at last put his supposed rival in his power, declared that her wish should be immediately carried out, and ordered the prisoner to be brought into the room for sentence.

Then, when Lucrezia saw that it was her own beloved son whom she had thus so carelessly condemned to death, she was filled with dismay and horror, and at once began to plead with her husband for his life.

But the Duke remained obdurate, and furiously denounced Gennaro as her lover, who should now die in her presence; and, in spite of the frantic woman's entreaties and passionate tirades, the most he would grant was that she should choose the mode of his death.

Lucrezia was for the moment filled with despair, not daring to vindicate herself by revealing her true relationship to Gennaro; but, suddenly, her quick wit devising a way out of the difficulty, she declared that she was willing for the prisoner to die by drinking a draught of the famous poisoned wine of the Borgias.

The Duke, well pleased that his own strong will should have, as he supposed, conquered the proud spirit of his wife, triumphantly produced a cup of poisoned wine, which he handed to the unfortunate Gennaro, compelling him to drain it to the last drop; and then, with a mocking laugh, he left the pair to take a last farewell of each other. But he had forgotten for the moment that the Borgias had the power to cure as well as to kill with the subtle poisons they used; and when he had departed, Lucrezia hastily produced an antidote to the fatal draught which Gennaro had just taken, so that the young man, by swallowing this, was thus saved from an untimely end.

Having seen that the antidote was taking good effect, Lucrezia hurried the still half-dazed Gennaro out of the palace through an unfrequented passage; and bidding him betake himself to Venice, she hoped he was safe from further harm.

Being no longer occupied with the engrossing pleasure of her newly-found son's society, and freed from the softening influence which he had exercised over her, Lucrezia became once more involved in her political schemes and personal intrigues; and having vowed vengeance upon the young Duke Orsini and his four companions for their denunciation of her to Gennaro, she proceeded to take her revenge upon them at a splendid banquet to be held at the palace of the Princess Negroni, a lady whose entertainments were always attended by the victims she had marked out.

When the night of the banquet arrived, the cunning Borgia managed to poison a flagon of rich wine, which she caused to be served out to the five nobles whose deaths she desired; and then she concealed herself, to await the consummation of her plan.

As the revels waxed more boisterous, Orsini, exhilarated by the rare wine he had been served with, entertained the company by singing a gay drinking song; and amidst the applause which followed his performance, Lucrezia made her appearance, and revealing herself to Orsini and his companions, announced with cruel triumph that they had all partaken of poisoned wine and that in a few minutes they would be dead. At her command, the attendants showed the five victims the coffins in which they would shortly lie; but at this moment, when her vengeance was just consummated, she was suddenly prostrated with horror. For Gennaro, who, neglectful of her bidding, had remained in Ferrara, now suddenly appeared before her; and, announcing that he also, as a guest at the banquet, had partaken of the poisoned wine, sternly desired her to provide a sixth coffin for his remains when he should presently breathe his last.

The revellers, overcome by this tragic interruption to their mirth, left the banqueting hall one by one, with pale faces and trembling steps; and the mother and son were left alone.

Lucrezia was filled with the utmost horror on thus discovering that she had once again caused her beloved son to be poisoned; and quickly producing the antidote, with tears and entreaties she begged him to swallow it instantly, her anxiety at his extreme danger being so great that, unable to control her feelings, she now revealed herself to him as his mother.

But Gennaro refused to accept the antidote; for he was stunned by the announcement that this terrible woman, whose cold-blooded murder of his friends repelled him with horror, was his mother. It was in vain that Lucrezia, seeing that the poison was already taking deadly effect upon her gasping son, entreated him passionately to take the antidote which she offered to him, and which alone could save his life; for Gennaro was determined not to live since his friends were doomed to die, and, regardless of his mother's despair, he thrust the antidote aside, and a few moments later fell back in her arms, dead.

At this moment, the Duke Alphonso entered the room; and Lucrezia, in a paroxysm of grief and wild despair, revealed to him the true relationship in which she had stood to Gennaro.

The Duke had scarcely time to grasp the meaning of her distracted words, when the wretched Lucrezia herself fell gasping to the floor; for the shock of having unwittingly murdered her own son was greater than she had strength to bear, and with a last despairing cry of woe and remorse, she fell dead beside the still form of her beloved Gennaro.