persuaded by his advisers that his best course was to stand
neutral. For they urged that it was not for the advantage of the Church
to have powerful strangers, whether French or Swiss, in Italy; but that
to restore the country to its ancient freedom, it must be delivered from
the yoke of both. And since to conquer both, whether singly or together,
was impossible, it was to be desired that the one should overthrow the
other, after which the Church with her friends might fall upon the
victor. And it was averred that no better opportunity for carrying out
this design could ever be found than then presented itself; for both the
French and the Swiss were in the field; while the Pope had his troops in
readiness to appear on the Lombard frontier and in the vicinity of the
two armies, where, under colour of watching his own interests, he could
easily keep them until the opposed hosts came to an engagement; when, as
both armies were full of courage, their encounter might be expected to
be a bloody one, and likely to leave the victor so weakened that it
would be easy for the Pope to attack and defeat him; and so, to his own
great glory, remain master of Lombardy and supreme throughout Italy.

How baseless this expectation was, was seen from the event. For the
Swiss being routed after a protracted combat, the troops of the Pope
and Spain, so far from venturing to attack the conqueror, prepared
for flight; nor would flight have saved them, had not the humanity or
indifference of the king withheld him from pursuing his victory, and
disposed him to make terms with the Church.

The arguments put forward by the Pope's advisers had a certain show of
reason in their favour, which looked at from a distance seemed plausible
enough; but were in reality wholly contrary to truth; since it rarely
happens that the captain who wins a victory loses any great number of
his men, his loss being in battle only, and not in flight. For in the
heat of battle, while men stand face to face, but few fall, chiefly
because such combats do not last long; and even when they do last, and
many of the victorious army are slain, so splendid is the reputation
which attends a victory, and so great the terror it inspires, as far to
outweigh any loss the victor suffers by the slaughter of his soldiers;
so that an enemy who, trusting to find him weakened, should then venture
to attack him, would soon be taught his mistake, unless strong enough to
give him battle at an