eble woman, soiled with sensual foulness from the
cradle. It is also due to truth to remember that at Ferrara she won the
esteem of a husband who had married her unwillingly, attached the whole
state to her by her sweetness of temper, and received the panegyrics of
the two Strozzi, Bembo, Ariosto, Aldo Manuzio, and many other men of
note. Foreigners who saw her surrounded by her brilliant Court
exclaimed, like the French biographer of Bayard: 'J'ose bien dire que,
de son temps, ni beau coup avant, il ne s'est point trouve de plus
triomphante princesse; car elle etait belle, bonne douce, et courtoise a
toutes gens.'

[1] The whole question of Lucrezia's guilt has been ably
investigated by Gregorovius (_Lucrezia Borgia_, pp. 101,
159-64). Charity suggests that the dreadful tradition of her
relation to her father and brothers is founded less upon fact
than upon the scandals current after her divorce. What Giovanni
Sforza said was this: '_anzi haverla conosciuta infinite volte,
ma chel Papa non gelha tolta per altro se non per usare con
lei_.' This confession of the injured husband went the round of
all the Courts of Italy, was repeated by Malipiero and Paolo
Capello, formed the substance of the satires of Sannazaro and
Pontano, crept into the chronicle of Matarazzo, and survived in
the histories of Machiavelli and Guicciardini. There was
nothing in his words to astonish men who were cognizant of the
acts of Gianpaolo Baglioni and Sigismondo Malatesta; while the
frantic passion of Alexander for his children, closely allied
as this feeling was in him to excessive sensuality, gave them
confirmation. Were they, however, true; or were they a
malevolent lie? That is the real point at issue. Psychological
speculation will help but little here. It is true that Lucrezia
in after-life showed all the signs of a clear conscience. But
so also did Alexander, whose buoyancy of spirits lasted till
the very day of his death. Yet he was stained with crimes foul
enough to darken the conscience of any man, at any period of
life, and in any position.

[2] See Burchard, ed. Leibnitz, pp. 77 and 78.

Yet even at Ferrara tragedies which might remind her of the Vatican
continued to surround her path. Alfonso, rude in manners and devoted to
gun-foundry, interfered but little with the life she led among the wits
and scholars who surrounded her. On