The Duke went back to Rome and resumed his ordinary life there, without bearing with him any of the wholesome leaven of matrimony—­a husband in name, and little more.  Duchess Isabella, a mere child, wanton and wilful more than most, was thus left the uncontrolled mistress of a princely establishment, with no marital check to regulate her conduct.  Surely as unstable a condition, and as conducive to infidelity, as can well be imagined.

Before leaving his wife at Poggio Baroncelli, Duke Paolo appointed her household, and made every provision for her comfort.  A cousin of his, Cavaliere Troilo d’Orsini, was placed in charge of the Duchess as Chamberlain, or quasi-guardian—­another false step, and embarrassing for all parties.  He was a handsome and accomplished man, avowedly unmarried, young and of a sympathetic disposition, and manifestly not at all the sort of person to place upon terms of such close relationship with the attractive young Duchess.

Under its fascinating Castellana the Baroncelli villa became a busy little Court, the scene of constant festivities, gossip, and intrigue.  Her mother’s Court at the Pitti was quite second in attractiveness.  Duchess Eleanora if virtuous and conscientious, was rather dull and uninteresting.  She cared much more for her Spanish connections than for her Florentine courtiers:  much of her time she spent in the Cappella degli Spagnioli at Santa Maria Novella.  What time she spared from her devotions she occupied in the establishment and patronage of the Accademia degli Elevati—­“Souls,” for the encouragement of poetry.

Duchess Isabella d’Orsini was hailed as “La Nuova Saffo” by those who gathered round her.  She was by nature an arrant flirt—­as most pretty women are—­for she inherited her father’s amorous disposition; and she was impulsive,—­an added charm where beauty reigns,—­worldly-minded, and dreadfully extravagant; moreover, she dressed to perfection.

The Duke of Bracciano paid rare visits to Florence, but the Duchess, in compliance with her marriage-contract, spent a portion of each year with her husband in Rome.  These visits were not occasions of happiness and satisfaction.  The two had scarcely any interests in common, and the infrequency of intercourse entailed unfamiliarity and embarrassment.  The good-byes were never unwelcome on either side!

The Duke took up, once more, his military duties, following in the footsteps of his father as commander, in 1566, of a division of the Imperial army against the Turks.  For his bravery at the battle of Lepanto, he was made Field-Marshal of the Emperor and a Count of the Holy Roman Empire.  In other respects he had his consolations for his enforced separation from his wife—­and Isabella, naturally, had hers too!