The Family - Mario Puzo [4]
Though many young girls were sent to convents to be educated and dedicated to the saints, Lucrezia—with the cardinal’s permission, on the advice of Adriana—was dedicated to the Muses and taught by the same talented tutors as her brothers. Because she loved the arts, she learned to play the lute, to dance, and to draw. She excelled in embroidery—on fabrics of silver and gold.
As was her obligation, Lucrezia developed charms and talents that would increase her value in the marital alliances which would serve the Borgia family in the future. One of her favorite pastimes was writing poetry, and she spent long hours on verses of love and rapture for God as well as those of romantic love. She was particularly inspired by the saints, her heart often too full for words.
Julia Farnese indulged Lucrezia as a younger sister; Adriana and the cardinal both lavished Lucrezia with attention, and so she grew into a happy child with a pleasant disposition. Curious and easy to get along with, she disliked disharmony and made every effort to help keep the family peace.
One beautiful Sunday, after he had served High Mass at Saint Peter’s Basilica, Cardinal Borgia invited his children to join him at the Vatican. This was a rare and courageous act, for until the time of Pope Innocent all children of the clergy were proclaimed to be their nephews and nieces. To openly acknowledge paternity could endanger an important appointment to any high church office. Of course, the people knew that cardinals and even Popes had children—everyone knew they sinned—but as long as it was hidden beneath the mantle of “family” and the truth of the relationship posted only in secret parchments, the honor of the office was not tarnished. Everyone could believe as they wished, but the cardinal had little patience for hypocrisy. There were times, of course, that he himself was forced to alter or embellish the truth. But that was understandable, for he was after all a diplomat.
Adriana dressed the children in their finest garments for this special occasion: Cesare in black satin and Juan in white silk, and two-year-old Jofre in a blue velvet jumper edged with rich embroidery. Julia dressed Lucrezia in a long peach lace dress, and placed a small jeweled headpiece upon the little girl’s white-blond curls.
The cardinal had just finished reading an official document brought to him from Florence by his senior advisor, Duarte Brandao. The document concerned a certain Dominican friar known as Savonarola. It was rumored that he was a prophet, inspired by the Holy Ghost, but far more dangerous to the purposes of the cardinal, every ordinary citizen of Florence rushed to hear Savonarola’s sermons and responded with great fervor. He was an acclaimed visionary and an eloquent preacher whose fiery speeches often raged against the carnal and financial excesses of the papacy in Rome.
“We must keep an eye on this simple friar,” Rodrigo Borgia said. “For great dynasties have often been brought down by simple men who believe they have a holy truth.”
Brandao was tall and thin, with long black hair and elegant features. He appeared gentle and amiable, yet it was rumored about Rome that no one could match his wrath when faced with disloyalty or insolence. Everyone agreed that only a fool would dare to make an enemy of him. Now, Duarte brushed his mustache with his index finger as he considered the implications of what Rodrigo Borgia had just told him.
Duarte told the cardinal, “There is word that the friar also attacks the Medici from the pulpit, and the citizens of Florence cheer.”
When the children entered Rodrigo Borgia’s private chambers, the conversation halted. Duarte Brandao greeted them with a smile, then stood aside.
Lucrezia rushed into the cardinal’s arms with excitement, but the boys stood back, their hands behind them. “Come, my sons,” Rodrigo said, still holding his daughter in his arms. “Come and give Papa a kiss.” He waved them toward him with a warm and welcoming smile.
Cesare reached his father first. Rodrigo Borgia