and Burchard's account--which,
considering the latter's position at the Vatican, must always be
preferred. According to Burchard the wounds were three, and they were in
the head, right arm, and knee.

On the 19th Capello writes again, and, having stated that Lucrezia--who
was really prostrate with grief at her husband's death--was stricken
with fever, adds that "it is not known who has wounded the Duke of
Biselli, but it is said that it was the same who killed and threw into
Tiber the Duke of Gandia. My Lord of Valentinois has issued an edict
that no one shall henceforth bear arms between Sant' Angelo and the
Vatican."

On the face of it, that edict of Valentinois' seems to argue vexation at
what had happened, and the desire to provide against its repetition--a
provision hardly likely to be made by the man who had organized the
assault, unless he sought, by this edict, to throw dust into the eyes
of the world; and one cannot associate after the event and the fear of
criticism with such a nature as Cesare's or with such a character as
is given him by those who are satisfied that it was he who murdered
Biselli.

The rumour that Alfonso had been assailed by the murderer of Gandia is a
reasonable enough rumour, so long as the latter remains unnamed, for
it would simply point to some enemy of the House of Borgia who, having
slain one of its members, now attempts to slay another. Whether Capello
actually meant Cesare when he penned those words on July 19, is not as
obvious as may be assumed, for it is to be borne in mind that, at this
date, Capello had not yet compiled the "relation" in which he deals with
Gandia's murder.

On July 23 he wrote that the duke was very ill, indeed, from the wound
in his head, and on the 28th that he was in danger owing to the same
wound although the fever had abated.

On August 18 he announces Alfonso's death in the following terms: "The
Duke of Biselli, Madonna Lucrezia's husband, died to-day because he
was planning the death of the Duke [of Valentinois] by means of an
arbalest-bolt when he walked in the garden; and the duke has had him cut
to pieces in his room by his archers."

This "cutting-to-pieces" form of death is one very dear to
the imagination of Capello, and bears some witness to his
sensation-mongering proclivities.

Coming to matters more public, and upon which his evidence is more
acceptable, he writes on the 20th that some servants of the prince's
have been arrested, an