affections of his
father's fascinating young wife, her aunt Cammilla.

In 1570, Cosimo went in State to Rome to be crowned by the Pope as first
Grand Duke of Tuscany. From his Holiness he obtained a reversion of the
title in perpetuity for his descendants. The Easter of that year he
spent at the Pitti Palace, and then he hurried off to Castello to pass
the rest of his days with his dearly-loved and charming young wife.

Once there, he dismissed almost all the members of his suite, retaining
only two secretaries, a chaplain (!) and two couriers, wishing to lead
the quiet life of a country gentleman. He apportioned to his wife
Cammilla four gentlewomen as maids of honour. Henceforward neither
Cosimo nor Cammilla were seen but rarely in Florence. They spent their
time together either at Castello, at Poggio a Caiano, or in Pisa.

December and May had been mated--the former had his consolations, but
the latter pined quite naturally for young society. Love is cold and
love is captious where age and temperament disagree. Cammilla sighed for
the gaieties, the pleasures, and gallantries of Florence. Love's young
dream had not been hers, she had not chosen her ancient lover. But
admiration for her sprang from a likely though an unexpected quarter,
and her cavalier was not warned off by a jealous husband, as was poor
Eleanora degli Albizzi's.

The Grand Duke Cosimo, to the very last, kept up the appearance of
religion, if not its realities. The fact that a son of his was a member
of the Sacred College, and a possible occupant of the chair of St Peter,
covered a multitude of sins; not that Cardinal Ferdinando was a mirror
of virtue or an example of sanctity.

Ferdinando's relations with Francesco and Bianca were as bad as could
be. His arrogance and extortions rendered his presence at the Florentine
court unwelcome and even dangerous. At Castello and Poggio a Caiano, on
the other hand, he was an honoured guest, and, for lack of lovers, his
young stepmother was not displeased by his attentions. Cosimo kept her
strictly in seclusion, and she had not the courage, or, be it said, the
impudence of her stepdaughter, the Duchess of Bracciano. The loves of
the Cardinal and Cammilla were in secret and unprovocative; indeed, the
Grand Duke encouraged the intrigue, as being "for Cammilla's good."

Here was a pretty state of affairs. One son, Piero, the seducer of his
mistress, Eleanora degli Albizzi, the other, Ferdinando, the lover of