Who doesn’t want a gay, psycho, assassin as a best friend?!
- Cesare Borgia, probably on Micheletto
Cesare, away from the oppressively hostile atmosphere of Urbino, was back in the reassuring surroundings of his camp at Fermignano, where he spent the cool early mornings hunting with leopards in the hills. On the 7th he had a fall from his horse while hunting, and such was his reputation for deviousness that the Venetian ambassador believed it be a deliberate ruse to excuse himself from going to the King to justify himself. But the fall was not serious enough to have prevented him riding to Louis had he wanted to; he continued to hunt ‘incognito, among a host of his servants dressed in livery, his face wrapped in gauze’. He had no intention of making a humiliating crawl to the French King under the delighted eyes of his enemies, nor indeed of meeting Louis until circumstances had turned in his favour.
- Cesare Borgia: His Life and Times, Sarah Bradford (x)
In which Cesare is a sneaky bastard. (via pulpypan)