The Family - Mario Puzo [25]
Julia had tried for months to instruct Lucrezia about what to expect on her wedding night, but Lucrezia paid little attention. As Julia explained in great detail how to please a man, Lucrezia’s heart and mind went straight to Cesare. Though she never said a word to anyone, her love for him filled many of her thoughts each day.
Now, as Lucrezia Borgia walked out onto her balcony, she was surprised to see the crowds awaiting her. Her father had provided guards to protect her, but they could not save her from the petals of flowers that blanketed her and carpeted the grand balcony. She smiled and waved at the citizens.
As Lucrezia watched the procession approach, she laughed at the jester who passed before her, and joyfully clapped as the trumpeters and flutists played their merriest tunes. Then, from behind, she saw them.
First her brother Cesare, handsome and noble astride his white horse, his back straight and his expression serious. He raised his head to look at her and smiled. Juan followed, taking no notice of her, leaning down on his horse to gather the flowers from ladies of the street who called to him. Her younger brother, Jofre, waved to her with a dull but happy smile.
Behind them she saw him: Giovanni Sforza. He had long, dark locks and a well-trimmed beard, a fine nose and a shorter, stockier build than any of her brothers. She felt self-conscious and embarrassed when she first saw him, but when he looked toward the balcony, reined in his horse, and saluted her, she curtsied back as she’d been taught.
In three days she would be married, and as the procession passed her on its way to her father’s house, she couldn’t wait to hear what Adriana and Julia had to say about her betrothed. Though Adriana would console her and tell her all would be fine, she knew Julia would tell her the truth.
Once inside her palace again, Lucrezia asked them, “What did you think? Do you think him a beast?”
Julia laughed. “I think he’s good-looking enough, though quite a large man . . . maybe too large for you,” she teased, and Lucrezia knew just what she meant. Then Julia hugged her. “He’ll be fine. It’s only for the Holy Father, and the Heavenly Father, that you must marry. It has little to do with the rest of your life.”
Once Alexander had established official residence in the papal palace, he had taken a suite of bare rooms built and abandoned long before, and made of them the fabulous Borgia apartments. The walls of his private reception room, the Sala dei Misteri, were covered with great murals painted by his favorite artist, Pinturicchio.
In one of these murals, Alexander himself was painted as part of the Ascension, one of the chosen few who watched Christ’s ascent to heaven. Attired in his great jewel-studded cloak, he has placed his golden tiara on the ground beside him. He stands with eyes raised upward as he is blessed by the ascending Savior.
In other murals, likenesses of other Borgia were shown as the faces of long-dead saints, martyrs, and other religious figures: Lucrezia strikingly beautiful as a slender, blond Saint Catherine, Cesare as an emperor on a golden throne, Juan as an oriental potentate, and Jofre as an innocent cherub. And throughout the murals there roamed the charging red bull that was the symbol of the Borgia family.
On the door of the second Borgia room, Pinturicchio had painted a portrait of the Madonna, the Virgin Mary, in all her serene beauty. The Madonna was Alexander’s favorite among the holy figures, so the artist had used Julia Farnese as his model, satisfying two passions of Alexander’s with one painting.
There was also the Hall of Faith, a thousand yards square. This room was vaulted, with frescoes filling the lunettes and medallions on the ceiling. There was one fresco for each apostle, every one of them reading a scroll to the eager prophets who would spread the word of the divinity of Christ. The faces of the prophets were Alexander, Cesare,