The Family - Mario Puzo [67]
“Yes,” Alexander agreed. “I myself could use a carnival, for the business of the church has caused me to become far too serious.”
Just then, Plandini, the chief clerk, announced the arrival of Ludovico Sforza and his nephew, Giovanni.
They all sat around a small marble table and were served platters of cheese, fruit, and wine. After exchanging some pleasantries, Alexander turned to Sforza with a sober expression. “Ludovico, I can no longer spin in circles. I have invited you here today to finalize plans for divorce.”
Ludovico, his wine goblet frozen in midair, appeared surprised. But it took him only moments to recover. “Your Holiness, there is no need of divorce, if you are speaking of Giovanni and your sweet daughter, Lucrezia.”
Giovanni nodded, but said nothing.
Alexander then removed himself from the table and began to pace around the room. “There is such a need for divorce, Ludovico. Giovanni left the city for months to stay in Pesaro. Lucrezia was left alone in Rome.”
Ludovico stood up and moved into the sitting area, and Giovanni followed. “My nephew left Rome because of threats from your son, Excellency,” Ludovico explained apologetically.
Cesare had not left the table; he sat finishing his wine.
Alexander turned to him. “Is this true, my son? Threats?”
Cesare responded with complete composure. “I never make threats. If a man angers me, I challenge him to a duel.” He shook his head now. “I don’t remember challenging you, Giovanni. Did I?” He looked at his brother-in-law, with eyes dark and cold.
The two men disliked each other enormously. “You must admit, you were not a gracious brother-in-law,” Giovanni said arrogantly.
Ludovico, becoming nervous, addressed the Pope in a honeyed tone. “Your Holiness. Giovanni returned to Rome. The two young people could live happily together in Pesaro, as a married couple. But Lucrezia—no, Lucrezia refused. She wanted Rome.”
Now all were seated in the Pope’s study.
Alexander became impatient. “Ludovico, my friend. We could argue all day, yet both of us have more to do. There can be only one conclusion here. Giovanni and Lucrezia must be divorced. We sympathize with both your concerns and your nephew’s feelings. But for the good of the church, it must be done.”
“The church?” Ludovico said, perplexed.
Now both he and Alexander stood and began to pace the floor, together. “Holy Father,” Ludovico whispered. “I’m certain Giovanni would agree to a divorce, if it could be on the grounds that the marriage was never valid.” He cleared his throat before he added, “For Lucrezia was already betrothed to the Spaniard.”
Alexander turned and placed his hand on Ludovico’s shoulder. “Ludovico, Ludovico,” he said. “Oh, that this distraction could be cleared up so easily. But the ruling body, the holy commission, disagrees.”
Ludovico’s voice dropped lower still. “You could always issue a bull.”
Alexander nodded. “You are correct, my friend,” he said. “I could. If she were another man’s daughter.” Then the Pope turned to face Ludovico, and spoke in a voice of authority. “The only possible ground is impotence. The admission that the marriage was never consummated. This, both the citizens and the commission will understand. And we have Lucrezia’s written statement.”
Giovanni jumped to his feet, his face flushed and red. “She lies. I am not impotent, and I will never confess that I am.”
Ludovico turned to him, and in a stern voice commanded him to relent. “Sit, Giovanni. We must find a way to accommodate the Holy Father.” Il Moro knew that he needed the Pope, for he feared that Milan could be swallowed up by the French at any time, and he might one day need the papal armies and their Spanish support.
Now Cesare spoke in words of stone. “I believe I have a solution. Crezia says one thing, Giovanni says another. And I propose a test. We can gather the members of both families in a large reception room. And into that room we can move a comfortable bed. In that bed we will place an attractive courtesan, a healthy,