cciano for this murder of his wife. In those days of
abandoned vice and intricate villany, certain points of honor were
maintained with scrupulous fidelity. A wife's adultery was enough to
justify the most savage and licentious husband in an act of
semi-judicial vengeance; and the shame she brought upon his head was
shared by the members of her own house, so that they stood by,
consenting to her death. Isabella, it may be said, left one son,
Virginio, who became, in due time, Duke of Bracciano.

It appears that in the year 1581, four years after Vittoria's marriage,
the Duke of Bracciano satisfied Marcello of his intention to make her
his wife, and of his willingness to countenance Francesco Peretti's
murder. Marcello, feeling sure of his game, now introduced the Duke in
private to his sister, and induced her to overcome any natural
repugnance she may have felt for the unwieldy and gross lover. Having
reached this point, it was imperative to push matters quickly on toward
matrimony.

[Footnote 206: The balance of probability leans against Isabella in this
affair. At the licentious court of the Medici she lived with
unpardonable freedom. Troilo Orsini was himself assassinated in Paris by
Bracciano's orders a few years afterwards.]

But how should the unfortunate Francesco be entrapped? They caught him
in a snare of peculiar atrocity, by working on the kindly feelings which
his love for Vittoria had caused him to extend to all the Accoramboni.
Marcello, the outlaw, was her favorite brother, and Marcello at that
time lay in hiding, under the suspicion of more than ordinary crime,
beyond the walls of Rome. Late in the evening of April 18, while the
Peretti family were retiring to bed, a messenger from Marcello arrived,
entreating Francesco to repair at once to Monte Cavallo. Marcello had
affairs of the utmost importance to communicate, and begged his
brother-in-law not to fail him at a grievous pinch. The letter
containing this request was borne by one Dominico d'Aquaviva, _alias_ Il
Mancino, a confederate of Vittoria's waiting-maid. This fellow, like
Marcello, was an outlaw; but when he ventured into Rome he frequented
Peretti's house, and he had made himself familiar with its master as a
trusty bravo. Neither in the message, therefore, nor in the messenger
was there much to rouse suspicion. The time, indeed, was oddly chosen,
and Marcello had never made a similar appeal on any previous occasion.
Yet his necessities mig