The Lady Cammilla’s life became at last intolerable; sickness, suspicion, and discontent fastened their dire influences upon her.  She neglected useful and ornamental pastimes, became morose and impatient, and gave way to fits of frenzied desperation.  The Abbess, greatly alarmed, took counsel with her spiritual advisers, who judged that the unhappy lady was losing her reason, and, perchance, her soul.  Her condition became so critical that in April 1587 the Tuscan ambassador in Rome applied to the Pope for permission for the chaplain of the convent to celebrate a Mass for the exorcism of the poor lady!

In October of that year the fell schemes of Cardinal Ferdinando had, at last, their fruition, and the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess died together at Poggio a Caiano, victims of his jealousy and hate.  He obtained at last what he had striven for so unscrupulously for twenty years—­the succession to the Tuscan throne.

Be it, however, in justice told, with respect to the Lady Cammilla, for, when he had spurned the dead body of the Grand Duchess, and hypocritically sad, had followed the remains of his poisoned brother to San Lorenzo, he went right off to the convent of Santa Monica, and acquainted her personally with the fact of delivery from a living tomb.

They had only met very occasionally during the last few years, and she had changed greatly—­perhaps he had, too.  Her terrible trials, her bodily sicknesses, and her mental derangements had made ineffaceable marks in the erstwhile beauteous girl, and Cammilla de’ Medici was no longer possible as the wife of the renegade Cardinal.  Marriage was out of the question for her; indeed, her very existence was at stake, and all that Ferdinando could do was to alleviate the sufferings of his innamorata, and to cheer her declining days.

Many years before, Ferdinando had purchased a piece of ground at the confluence of the Arno and Pesa, and, upon it, he built the Villa Ambrogiana, which he furnished in lavish style, boasting that “it will be handy when I come into my own!” This estate, with a sufficient household, he made over to the Lady Cammilla, for her own free use.  Before, however, she took up her residence, Ferdinando, now, of course, Grand Duke of Tuscany, placed at her disposal a country villa in the Val d’Ema, to which the suffering Signora was taken, in the hope that the fresh air and pleasant outlook would assist the recovery of her health and spirits.

She improved wonderfully in every way—­the fact that she was again her own mistress and free to come and go at will, fortified her immensely, and she determined to devote the residue of her life to the interests of Ferdinando.  Called upon, at his succession to the throne, to renounce his spiritual character—­it was a character, indeed, which ill-fitted him—­the new Grand Duke devoted himself to the duties of his high station.  The Lady Cammilla, who had been his confidante in days gone by, was still retained as counseller and guide.  Marriage was the most urgent necessity of the Grand Duke for the procreation of legitimate heirs.