. She was an ugly little hoyden of five years, this
Giovanna, who, squat of stature and swarthy as a gypsy, bestrode her
little pony like a man; but, though by nature stubborn and subject to
fits of anger in which she bit and scratched like a wildcat, to me she
had taken a fancy as intense as it was inexplicable.

When I upbraided her manners as ill befitting a little maid, and
marvelled at her unlikeness to her mother, she made answer: "Nay, but
mamma can scratch also. You should have seen the face of the messenger
who told us that the town of Forli had opened its gates to the
besiegers. I am like my father in looks, but I have my mother's spirit.
Cardinal de' Medici said that if my father had worn the petticoat and my
mother had been the man, the Medici would be ruling now in Florence."

"Would you like to rule, little princess?" I asked.

"Nay, I would rather fight. When I am grown I will be a great
condottiere like you, Sir Knight."

"Tush!" I reproved her. "A girl a condottiere--who ever heard of such a
prodigy?"

The child smiled mysteriously. "I have a mind to tell you a secret," she
said.

"Giovanna, Giovanna!" her mother called, beckoning from her litter, but
the little maid had fast hold of my stirrup leather, and pulled me close
while she confided: "I am not Giovanna, I am not a girl at all. I am
Giovanni de' Medici, Duke of Forli, and one of these days I will cut
off that Borgia man's head. But fear not; I will be good to you if only
you do not tell."

[Illustration]

[Illustration: The Borgias

From a painting by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. (Pope Alexander VI. regards
the dancing children, Lucrezia plays the viol, Cesar beats time with his
stiletto on the stem of a wine glass.) Permission of George Bell & Sons]

I had no mind to tell, and though I let the Duchess know that her little
son had betrayed his disguise, and reproached her for bringing him into
the wolf's jaws, I swore to her that the secret should be safe in my
keeping.

II

The bob of gold
Which a pomander ball doth hold,
This to her side she doth attach
With gold crochet or French pennache.

Then raises to her eyes of blue
Her lorgnon, as she looks at you.

Arrived at Rome, the Pope assigned the captives to the Villa of the
Belvedere, so named from a graceful tower which shot high above the
encircling walls, and commanded a delightful prospect. A charming garden
connected the villa with t