hority. Feeling himself
isolated among the princes of his country, rebuffed by the Medici, and
coldly treated by the King of Naples, he turned in his anxiety to
France, and advised the young king, Charles VIII., to make good his
claim upon the Regno. It was a bold move to bring the foreigner thus
into Italy; and even Lodovico, who prided himself upon his sagacity,
could not see how things would end. He thought his situation so
hazardous, however, that any change must be for the better. Moreover,
a French invasion of Naples would tie the hands of his natural foe,
King Ferdinand, whose granddaughter, Isabella of Aragon, had married
Giovanni Galeazzo Sforza, and was now the rightful Duchess of Milan.
When the Florentine ambassador at Milan asked him how he had the
courage to expose Italy to such peril, his reply betrayed the egotism
of his policy: 'You talk to me of Italy; but when have I looked Italy
in the face? No one ever gave a thought to my affairs. I have,
therefore, had to give them such security as I could.'

Charles VIII. was young, light-brained, romantic, and ruled by
_parvenus_, who had an interest in disturbing the old order of the
monarchy. He lent a willing ear to Lodovico's invitation, backed as
this was by the eloquence and passion of numerous Italian refugees and
exiles. Against the advice of his more prudent counsellors, he taxed
all the resources of his kingdom, and concluded treaties on
disadvantageous terms with England, Germany, and Spain, in order that
he might be able to concentrate all his attention upon the Italian
expedition. At the end of the year 1493, it was known that the
invasion was resolved upon. Gentile Becchi, the Florentine envoy at
the Court of France, wrote to Piero de' Medici: 'If the King succeeds,
it is all over with Italy--_tutta a bordello._' The extraordinary
selfishness of the several Italian States at this critical moment
deserves to be noticed. The Venetians, as Paolo Antonio Soderini
described them to Piero de' Medici, 'are of opinion that to keep
quiet, and to see other potentates of Italy spending and suffering,
cannot but be to their advantage. They trust no one, and feel sure
they have enough money to be able at any moment to raise sufficient
troops, and so to guide events according to their inclinations.' As
the invasion was directed against Naples, Ferdinand of Aragon
displayed the acutest sense of the situation. 'Frenchmen,' he
exclaimed, in what appears like a pro