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| Borgia, Cesare | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Aug 31 2010, 01:51 PM (225 Views) | |
| Cesare Borgia | Aug 31 2010, 01:51 PM Post #1 |
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[align=center]![]() C E S A R E B O R G I A ![]() * "I desire to go to Hell, not to Heaven. In Hell I shall enjoy the company of popes, kings and princes, but in Heaven are only beggars, monks, hermits and apostles." - Niccolo Machiavelli . HEY THERE. THE NAME IS MATT, AND I AM OLDER THAN SIN. I'VE BEEN ROLEPLAYING FOR ABOUT A BAJILLION YEARS AND MY OTHER CHARACTERS WOULD BE MATTHEW FITZALAN AND THOMAS CRANMER. I FOUND FKAC AT THE CORNER OF FIRST AND AMISTAD. OH, BY THE WAY, I READ THE RULES. WANT PROOF? THE CODE WORD IS PUMPERNICKEL WANT TO REACH ME? HERE'S MY IM: HYWASAINT@AOL>COM [/align]For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, Who art as black as Hell, as dark as night." What personality is there to a man who has been called, in turn, the archetype of Jesus the Word Made Flesh, and Antichrist Enemy of God? As with the volumes writ and said of him, Cesare Borgia is in and of himself a man of contradictions. The illegitimate scion of Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia and his formidable mistress, Vannozza de Cattani, this boy born to less than auspicious circumstances was elevated far beyond his questionable birth when, at the age of 5, he was appointed to his first papal office, and before he even understood the fortune he was accruing was raking in benefices from the extraordinary power of Holy Mother Church. By nine, he was prebend of the cathedral chapter of Valencia, dignitary of the papal chancellery, rector of Gandia, provost of Albar and Jativa and treasurer of Cartagena. Bound to follow in his prolific father's footsteps in the halls of Catholic power, Cesare desired, even from a child's age, something more. A student of theology, groomed for the priesthood, he was elevated with surprising rapidity upon Rodrigo's election to the throne of St. Peter to the crimson of a prince of the Church ... a cardinal's hat upon his head before it had grown into the clothes of a man. That was not enough for the boy already willful enough to be consorting with courtesans and whores, who, if rumours had any validity, knew his own sister, Lucrezia, in the most carnal and incestuous of terms. His was not to be a life devoted to the Kingdom of God, but the projection of princely, fundamentally earthly power. That was clear enough when his brother Giovanni, given the Dukedom of Gandia over the tonsured and elder Cesare, was found floating dead in the Tiber one morning in 1493. Mind you, it was Giovanni's whelp who received the inheritance of it, rather than Cesare, so what had he to gain? Other than the elimination of another rival for his own ascendant star, which may have been enough cause for the carnal cardinal to spill the blood so kindred to his own. Certainly, Cesare never balked at brutality at any other point in his life. And a dissolute life it was, the scarlet trappings of episcopal authority laid aside as soon as Cesare could manage it, in 1498 amidst negotiations to marry Cesare to the daughter of the King of Naples. Swiftly exchanging a tasseled cardinal's hat for the crown of a duke, he was raised to the dukedom of Valentinois. Beyond escaping the restrictions of a nominally pious life, the lusty young Borgia's efforts were for naught, marital contracts falling short, though not without a decided silver lining. Instead of Carlotta of Naples, he found a bride in the apparently tireless and nubile body of Charlotte d'Albert, daughter of the Duc de Guyenne. On his wedding night, Cesare showed his gratitude for this escape from the last remaining possibility for a priest's life by tiring out his new wife in no less than eight assaults upon her virginity. Or rather, one assault upon her virginity, and seven more to avail himself of what he would have missed had he been a faithful servant of God, which Cesare neither desired nor even attempted to be. Cesare proved to be fruitful in more than the pursuits of the bedchamber, however, conquering the Roman Marches, Romagna, and pulling the defeated Contessa naked behind him through the streets of Rome in triumph. A conquest he doubled when he took her before the aghast eyes of her husband, a condottiero undeserving of his family's marital history, and then had her rump branded with Borgia's own signet. The willful Cesare never did have any patience with those who defied his desires. The husband of his sister Lucrezia, the sick and feeble Alfonso di Napoli strangled in his sickbed, they all fell afoul of Cesare's energetic dagger. Piombino, Elba, Camerino and Urbino fell before him, along with their masters (and invariably, mistresses), but so swift and severe a rise must necessarily be accompanied by an equal precipitous fall. That came soon enough, with the death of Pope Alexander VI in 1503. From that point onward, Cesare was a man without protection beyond his own magnificent mind and boundless energy. Imprisoned by that vengeful old goat, Julius II, he escaped his shackles only to discover further confine in Spain, indeed in the very bosom of what little remained of Borgia power. Fled to his brother-in-law's Navarrone protection, even that fell short after the disastrous Siege of Viana, when the defeated cardinal turned duke turned outlaw turned disgruntled general in the service of a petty prince of a negligible hollow between Spain and France returned home only to find his wife carried off by malaria. But fortune, as the artful Valentine's friend and admirer Niccolo Machiavelli wrote, is a river ... and its currents quick to change. The ascendancy of his old friend and cohort in raconteuring Giovanni de' Medici. And with the fortunate Francesca now Queen of England and Cesare's daughter, an apple fallen close indeed to the prolific tree of her birth, ensconced in her household, the opportunity to gain English support for revenge has never been more appealing. If war with France is eminent, Cesare could do far worse than to retake Valentinois, or indeed to grasp something far greater, with the assistance of Henry VIII. In the process, perhaps Giovanna can find a wealthy English husband, and Cesare the pleasant and eternal idylls of a court as glorious and ruthless as that over which he once presided ... and would be lord over again. He has, perhaps, crowded more momentous events into thirty-five years than any man before him, save only Christ Jesus (who will, Cesare trusts, in -His- mercy save Cesare Borgia!). But his shall not be a premature cross. Not when there is so much for this ' serpent ... in his boundless ambition and pestiferous perfidy' to yet achieve. I used to rule the world Seas would rise when I gave the word Now in the morning I sleep alone Sweep the streets that I used to own I used to roll the dice Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes Listen as the crowd would sing: "Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!" One minute I held the key Next the walls were closed on me And I discovered that my castles stand Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing Roman Cavalry choirs are singing Be my mirror my sword and shield My missionaries in a foreign field For some reason I can't explain I know Saint Peter won't call my name Never an honest word ... That was when I ruled the world |
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| Catherine Willoughby | Sep 1 2010, 04:36 PM Post #2 |
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vérité sans peur
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[align=center]![]() Make sure to head on over to the FACE CLAIM and claim your PB. We want to know the person behind the character! INTRODUCE yourself. Plot with other characters in the PLOT FORUM. Want to join in threads with others, but not sure what to write first? Hop on into the THREAD EXTRAVAGANZA. And be sure to post your info in the CONTACT LIST. [/align] |
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[align=center]"I must shape my own coat according to my cloth, but it will not be after the fashion of this world but fit for me." Catherine is in 2 threads. [/align] | |
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11:08 AM Jul 11