The Tigress of Forli by Elizabeth Lev Read Free Book Online Page B

outlays for his mistress, such as twelve thousand ducats for a single brooch, word was bound to get out. By 1475, Lucia had been made a countess, and consequently the duke's donations to her were legally protected against any future attempt at recoupment that the duke's wife or his successor might make.
    As Galeazzo's behavior became increasingly despotic and depraved, dissatisfaction mounted in the public square and hostility grew abroad, casting a shadow over the ducal household. The atmosphere of Christmastide 1476 was very different from the festive events preceding Caterina's marriage.
    To make matters worse, that December the plague had erupted in neighboring Pavia, which meant quarantine for the city, panic in all the neighboring towns, and a shortened list of Christmas guests. Far from dampening Galeazzo's holiday spirit, the reduced numbers relieved him. Not without reason, he was beginning to suspect plots against his life. In November, he sent two of his own brothers, Ludovico (called "the Moor") and Sforza Maria, to France for the entire Christmas season, owing to the disagreeable fact that the duke could not be sure that they were still loyal to him. Bona of Savoy was tormented by nightmares. And the citizens of Milan were remarking on ominous portents—mysterious comets, hovering ravens, and ghostly flames enveloping the duke's chambers.
    Caterina, now old enough to sense the uneasy atmosphere around her, would have wondered why her uncles were not present for the burning of the
ciocco.
Perhaps she was struck by the contrast between her father's relentless mirth and the grave and worried expressions of his courtiers. On Christmas Day, a jovial Galeazzo Maria attended his usual three Masses and enjoyed a long hunt. His foreign enemies were far away, intimates of dubious loyalty were at a safe distance, and the little coterie that remained was composed of faithful retainers. Convinced he had suppressed any enthusiasm for revolt in Milan, he rejoiced in the good fortunes of the house of Sforza.
    As the Milanesi celebrated the Lord's birth, however, three citizens were busily plotting their lord's demise. Behind the walls of the monastery of Saint Ambrogio, Andrea Lampugnano, Carlo Visconti, and Girolamo Olgiati were beseeching the patron saint of Milan to help them rid the city of its tyrannical ruler and restore freedom. At least that was the prayer of nineteen-year-old Olgiati, the youngest of the conspirators. A poet and gentleman of the court, he owed his superb classical education in part to the ducal library. Having read of Brutus, Cassius, and the tyrannicide of Julius Caesar, he dreamed of republican liberty, eventually hatching the plot against the duke. Lampugnano, another courtier, would not have objected had such high motives been ascribed to him as well, but the true reasons for his involvement were rather more pedestrian. Having invested and lost substantial sums in unfortunate real estate deals, he hoped that the civil unrest following the duke's death would wipe clean his numerous debts. As for Carlo Visconti, the duke would have been shocked to see him among the conspirators. Visconti was the ducal chancellor, had been a trusted member of the duke's Council of Justice since 1474, and handled the delicate negotiations and correspondence with the Holy Roman Emperor when Galeazzo tried to gain recognition as the duke of Milan. Galeazzo would have been even more taken aback to hear of Carlo's motive: he was bent on avenging his sister, who had been seduced by Galeazzo. In a milieu where many husbands were happy to sell their wives to curry a little ducal favor, few would have thought that an outraged brother would become the instrument of the duke's end.
    December 26, the Feast of Saint Stephen, was a cold, gray day in Milan. Icy winds from the Alps had brought enough snow to blanket the roads, and the duke was reconsidering his plan to hear Mass in the Church of Saint Stephen. Anxiously Bona begged