sors; but, says Guicciardini, Julius II, whose
ambition, so natural in sovereign rulers, had not yet extinguished the
remains of rectitude, refused to accept the places, afraid of exposing
himself to the temptation of keeping them later on, against his
promises.

But as the case was urgent, he proposed to Caesar that he should leave
Rome, embark at Ostia, and cross over to Spezia, where Michelotto was
to meet him at the head of 100 men-at-arms and 100 light horse, the only
remnant of his magnificent army, thence by land to Ferrara, and from
Ferrara to Imala, where, once arrived, he could utter his war-cry so
loud that it would be heard through the length and breadth of Romagna.

This advice being after Caesar's own heart, he accepted it at once.

The resolution submitted to the Sacred College was approved, and Caesar
left for Ostia, accompanied by Bartolommeo della Rovere, nephew of His
Holiness.

Caesar at last felt he was free, and fancied himself already on his good
charger, a second time carrying war into all the places where he had
formerly fought. When he reached Ostia, he was met by the cardinals of
Sorrento and Volterra, who came in the name of Julius II to ask him to
give up the very same citadels which he had refused three days before:
the fact was that the pope had learned in the interim that the Venetians
had made fresh aggressions, and recognised that the method proposed
by Caesar was the only one that would check them. But this time it was
Caesar's turn, to refuse, for he was weary of these tergiversations, and
feared a trap; so he said that the surrender asked for would be useless,
since by God's help he should be in Romagna before eight days were
past. So the cardinals of Sorrento and Volterra returned to Rome with a
refusal.

The next morning, just as Caesar was setting foot on his vessel, he was
arrested in the name of Julius II.

He thought at first that this was the end; he was used to this mode of
action, and knew how short was the space between a prison and a tomb;
the matter was all the easier in his case, because the pope, if he
chose, would have plenty of pretext for making a case against him. But
the heart of Julius was of another kind from his; swift to anger, but
open to clemency; so, when the duke came back to Rome guarded, the
momentary irritation his refusal had caused was already calmed, and
the pope received him in his usual fashion at his palace, and with his
ordinary courtesy, a