Duke Alfonso sent to Florence for his consort early in 1560, but, true to her determination, Duchess Eleanora required him to come for Lucrezia in person!  With perhaps less frigidity than he had exhibited the year before, but with very little more friendliness, Alfonso made his second appearance in Florence.  He was accompanied by Cardinal de’ Medici, his brother-in-law—­so soon to come to a tragical and untimely end in the Maremma—­and a princely escort of two thousand five hundred horsemen.  The young Duchess, not yet sixteen, mounted upon a cream-white palfrey, rode out of the Porta San Gallo, by the side of her husband.  The day was gloomy and the purple and white crocuses, which children scattered before her, betokened, so it was said, disaster.

Anyhow, it was a sorrowful parting with her parents, and with Florence.  Never again was she destined to see them or it.  The days of her childhood, spent happily enough with her brothers and sisters, were over:  the fatigues and intrigues of a hostile Court were before her, and, already, trouble had marked her young life with scars—­more were to follow.

The Duke and Duchess entered Ferrara in full State, on 21st February, but their reception was as cold as was the weather.  The dynastic dispute, whilst ostensibly healed at its head, still affected the limbs of the Duchy.  The people were, to a man, and perhaps to a woman, anti-Medicean, and showed their disapproval of their Sovereign’s consort, by abstaining from taking their share in the festivities.

One’s heart bleeds for this child-bride of seven months introduced unguarded to the gayest, maddest, and most corrupt Court in Italy.  Of the Ferrarese it has been justly said:  “By nature they are inclined only for pleasure and revenge.”  True enough, happiness and tragedy are close partners in life’s story.  No one loved Lucrezia de’ Medici in Ferrara—­least of all her husband.

Perhaps the position may be succinctly stated—­“the bride of three nights was not enceinte!  Had she only possessed the attributes of coming motherhood, Lucrezia’s origin might have been condoned.  But surely it was foul cruelty which fixed the fault on her alone.  As it was, the poor young Duchess was accorded at her husband’s court the position of a ’Cosa della lussuria’—­to be set aside as soon as the novelty had passed away!”

The Duchess determined, possessed as she undoubtedly was, though so young, of much of the force of character of her family, to put a good face upon things.  Her letters to her parents, written during the Carnival, are full of pleasant details of her new life.  She was enjoying, with girlish zest, the gaieties around her, and entering fully into the merry prospects of the Court masquerades.  Whether her expressions are quite sincere, is, perhaps, immaterial under the circumstances—­she knew her father’s disposition too well to make complaints.

The anniversary of her wedding came round to find her childless and devoid of any prospect of issue.  Duke Alfonso was far too much engaged in politics and pleasure to give his due to his wife, who yearned in vain for the fulfilment of the conjugal vow.  Duchess Renata had her party at Court, a party opposed, as she was, to anything and everything Florentine:  her son gave heed to her cautions, and thus the breach widened.