Soderini
described them to Piero de' Medici, 'are of opinion that to keep
quiet, and to see other potentates of Italy spending and suffering,
cannot but be to their advantage. They trust no one, and feel sure
they have enough money to be able at any moment to raise sufficient
troops, and so to guide events according to their inclinations.' As
the invasion was directed against Naples, Ferdinand of Aragon
displayed the acutest sense of the situation. 'Frenchmen,' he
exclaimed, in what appears like a prophetic passion when contrasted
with the cold indifference of others no less really menaced, 'have
never come into Italy without inflicting ruin; and this invasion, if
rightly considered, cannot but bring universal ruin, although it seems
to menace us alone.' In his agony Ferdinand applied to Alexander VI.
But the Pope looked coldly upon him, because the King of Naples, with
rare perspicacity, had predicted that his elevation to the Papacy
would prove disastrous to Christendom. Alexander preferred to ally
himself with Venice and Milan. Upon this Ferdinand wrote as follows:
'It seems fated that the Popes should leave no peace in Italy. We are
compelled to fight; but the Duke of Bari (_i.e._ Lodovico Sforza)
should think what may ensue from the tumult he is stirring up. He who
raises this wind will not be able to lay the tempest when he likes.
Let him look to the past, and he will see how every time that our
internal quarrels have brought Powers from beyond the Alps into Italy,
these have oppressed and lorded over her.'

Terribly verified as these words were destined to be,--and they were
no less prophetic in their political sagacity than Savonarola's
prediction of the Sword and bloody Scourge,--it was now too late to
avert the coming ruin. On March 1, 1494, Charles was with his army at
Lyons. Early in September he had crossed the pass of Mont Genevre and
taken up his quarters in the town of Asti. There is no need to
describe in detail the holiday march of the French troops through
Lombardy, Tuscany, and Rome, until, without having struck a blow of
consequence, the gates of Naples opened to receive the conqueror upon
February 22, 1495. Philippe de Comines, who parted from the King at
Asti and passed the winter as his envoy at Venice, has more than once
recorded his belief that nothing but the direct interposition of
Providence could have brought so mad an expedition to so successful a
conclusion. 'Dieu monstroit conduire l'e