 Good evening. This is Crime Classics. I am Thomas Hyland with another true story of crime. Listen. That was Giovanni D'Aste running stealthily in the year 1500. That was Guido della Miopa, friend of Giovanni and with him hired a captain. That was Nicolotto, who chapped but hired them for a piece of work this night on the streets of Rome in front of St. Peter's Cathedral. And here is Nicolotto's boss. And having converged on a pre-rein spot, it is he who killed him. Tonight, I report to you on Cesare Borgia, his most difficult murder. Crime Classics. A series of true crime stories taken from the records and newspapers of every land from every time. Your host each week, Mr. Thomas Hyland, connoisseur of crime, students of violence, and teller of murder. Now, once again, Mr. Thomas Hyland. They dressed well in those days. And no wonder they had the dupe de Vellon Timoir to design their clothes for them. And all of us knew, of course, that he was the chap who invented the Italian dart and tuck, as well as the one finger cymbal. That's all a night out then in Rome. Formal garden dinner at the Borgias. Over there by the wine service just delivered by Michelangelo is Paolo Ortino, young noble. He's dressed in red satin and cloth of gold. The hand of his surplus is studded with rubies. And his hat is trimmed with stiff gold lace. And there is Nicolotto, a close friend to Cesare. And to Cesare's trip to Lucrezia. Lucrezia! Lucrezia is such a wonderful party. Oh, how stunning you are. Valentinois, didn't he? And the ring. It's new, isn't it? Nicolatino! See? It opens in a coming little needle here. Ha, ha, ha! Lucrezia, Lucrezia! Nicolotto, I should tell you, is garbed in the livery of crimson velvet and yellow silk. His shirt is adorned with a double row of rubies, as big as being... Nicolotto! Nicolotto! And here's our host, chastely dressed. Simply. A great necklace of pearls about his throat, the only adornment. Nicolotto, dear friend. Cesare, you've outdone yourself this evening. I was just saying to Lucrezia... Whatever you say to her, Nicolotto, whatever you say to my sister, that there be adjectives of beauty and spinning light, that there be words that mean flight and song and loveliness. Ha, ha, ha! Embrace me, brother. Put your warmth to my cheek and I'll whisper to you. Dear brother, magnificent brother. Pretty, pretty. My husband beckons me. Alfonso Waves, come to me. Then go to him. Go, go, fly to him. Nicolotto, yes. Lucrezia loves her husband, Nicolotto. Yes. See how she greets him. Ah, don't they? Nicolotto. Cesare, he does the world no good. I was searching for the very certain you have found it. Yes, he does the world no good. He, Alfonso, being nephew to the king of Naples, I thought he would be useful. That in this bringing together of all Italy, his marriage to my sister would help wed the warring provinces. And Alfonso has done nothing. He has done nothing. Except make love to your sister. Except that. See there, he's not released him from his greetings yet. I cannot look upon it. Listen what? This worthless man, this Alfonso of Aragon. What about him? He is red, deep, deep red and spills nobly. Dear friend. Dear, dear friend. Come with me now past the table set with succulents from all over the world and jewels, studded goblets and golden dishes. Past the gilded youngsters, servants, past the moorish maidens spinning to bell and tambourine. They're a giant, mute and muscular who supplies poses and dancing about him drawers from Madagascar, dervishes from India. Past all of them and into another part of the garden and down the path and here. The place of deep-throated tiger lily and Grecian fragments strewn in studded disarray. This place. You think he plans to kill me, wife? Since returning from Firenze, your thoughts are dismal with death and sorrow. You saw how he looked upon me with loathing. What have I loathed the world except that which is in his arms at the moment? Tell me this, Grecian. What? What does he say of me? He asks if I love you. And you answer? I say yes. Then he asks if I am pleased with you. And you answer? I say yes. And I offer my lips to the sun as if I am kissing you and I say yes. Divine. Divine, Grecian. Yes. Youth of duty, my husband. Youth of bravery and daring. Listen. Yes. Do something brave now to a daring thing. Leave. Leave? The Palace of Chesere? The feasting that gets begun? I want to. But Chesere's disfavor. Daring. Brave. Yes. And you, brother Chesere? Your handmaiden said you spend the morning by the fountain. Unless you spend it sadly. Five. Not sadly, but quite. Yes? Last night I had a spectacle prepared for you. A spectacle of fireworks and Arabian steed and a troupe of Arabian maids and a magician from Samarkand. And? And I was not there. And you were not there. Nor your husband. It was a moment of my presence saddened his scars as day and in I left. Tell me of it. My husband thinks you look upon him with loathing. Oh. He said to me he thinks you wish him dead. Oh. Now tell me truth. You are my sister. Tell me truth, Chesere. You are my sister and you love a man, therefore I cannot think evil of him. Even though he could make an alliance for you with Naples through his uncle and does not, and for Naples is still a thorn that scratches cruelly your hand. I do not think in such a way, sister. Liar. Liar, then. So believe what you wish. Believe that your husband will live or that he will perish. Believe what you wish. Dear Chesere. Yes? Do something, dear Chesere, to prove to my husband you're a student for him. Chesere sent to Alfonso a gift a marble basin filigreeed with gold and in it an invitation to meet him at Nicolangelo's studio where the artist was sculpting a portrait of one of Chesere's favorites. See how a master chiseled stone into beauty, good Alfonso. To Marvel, to Marvel? The artistry or the lady? I did not notice the lady for your sister fills my eyes ever. At all times. Pretty. Pretty. Come. And through here, this salt-speller, Nicolangelo, makes for the Vatican. And this design for a catapult. I am not stupid, brother-in-law. Why did you bid me here? Surely not to enjoy the artistry at Nicolangelo for all room knows of it in places. Why did you summon me here? Here among these jewels of the world I offer you another jewel, Alfonso. My friendship. And proof of it. What proof, if you have the courage to accept it? Stay on. A bullfight then. Let us offer ourselves to that sport, to the horns of the bull each person turns. And when one is in jeopardy, the other will save him. What say you, Alfonso? I say, well said, then you will do it. I will do it. Wait then. These are better. Very well. And Nicolangelo. I say well to you. Gold. For your cold, jaze-fighter. Very well. So a bullfight was arranged. Each fought the bull in his turn. When the bull had Cesare in a precarious position, Alfonso ran out, waved a red cloak and distracted the bull, and then bravely slew the beast. And Cesare suckered Alfonso. When Alfonso fought the bull and was in peril, this is the way mobility proved to the world that they were fond of each other. Friends to the death. Buddies. I'm glad. I'm happy. I'm delighted. Friends. Friends. Friends. And now friend of my life, dear Alfonso, a boon. Whatever. This boon. Meet with me in front of St. Peter this evening so that I can take you to Master Julio for a fitting. Friend of my life, I will be there. Farewell to you. Farewell to you, my sister. Farewell. How did it go? I asked him to meet with me in front of St. Peter's Cathedral this evening, that I would take him to Master Julio for a fitting. What bait that is. The vain man at nine o'clock. Now that he trusts me, he will be there. Will you meet with me? Yes. And tell Giovanni of the poignard of the meeting. And Guido? Yes. Four of us then. And we will approach from four directions. Each of us must, so as not to be identified. You remember Francesco well as he has. And tonight, dear friend. Yes. That night, as the bell of St. Peter's was tolling nine o'clock. From the east, Giovanni d'Este of the poignard. From the west, Guido della Miopa of the dagger. From the north, Nicolotto. And from the south, it is he. Kill him. On the pavement of Rome. Crime classics. And your host, Thomas Highland. And his report to you on Cesare Borgia. His most difficult murder. I'd like to add my two cents to the renaissance. The renaissance was an awakening from the Middle Ages, which was a period of darkness and brutality. And now the renaissance, and this is my observation, it did indeed bring back the humanities, but it also refined brutality. In other words, inhumanities and tortures were made more exquisite, called progress. So against this background of new light, ornate fashionings in stone and oars, brilliant art history, the city of Rome, which in the year 1500 was held in sway by the folk who lived on the hill, the Borgias. They lived on a hill and in a grand castle. And in this grand castle was a large and bolted room. And in this large and bolted room, casting startling shadow, Cesare. Cesare Borgia. Your Excellency Cesare. Stop, now, I won't say what. Dark and terrible deeds this night. Oh, darkness, what deeds? From the stoop of St. Peter's blood land, blasphemy on the murder of your own... Who? Who? ...husband to your sister. What cold shutter these words caused my body to hold. Hey, what has happened? Masked strangers attacked him with poignant and nice, and there they left him stuck. And he is dead? No. No. Not quite. What you said, murder. Which it will be at any moment. The doctors say each breath he draws may be his last. But he is not dead. He will be. Come, if you wish, and sob upon my shoulder. Come. Wake. Wake now. Come. How about your heart, Cesare? Though I can say to Rome, your heart welled up in despair. Silent tears, Harold. Oh, Cesare. Oh, Paolo. Is there something here I interrupt, or am I welcome here? We've always welcomed companionship. Come, grieve with me, Michalato. Of course, but what is the sorrow? Tell him, Paolo, this night of assassins and blood, and the dying of Alfonso of Aragon. But he is not yet dead. Not yet dead? But he will be, a certainty. Now, we must ponder then, who would have caused to want such a noble death? Mass. They were. His uncle? Yes. His uncle, Francesco Gazzella? Yes. Yes. Francesco Gazzella, brother to his mother, who once told his friends you remember of a dream he had? How he slew Alfonso? I remember. Oh, yes. Then wake, Francesco Gazzella. Paolo. Then wake the headsman. Let justice be done. Amen. Amen. Francesco Gazzella went to the block in good humor, smiling, joking with the headsman, and similar manifestations of no hard feelings. His last statement on records is interesting too. This is a dream, he said, and I shall awaken in a little while and have my wine and buns. A record state that when Francesco's head was exhibited as a Roman crowd, it wore a nice smile. Well, as you know, Alfonso just refused to draw his last breath. Inhale, exhale, he wouldn't stop. He didn't regain consciousness, but he didn't stop breathing either. So, Cesare went to visit him and in the anti-room to the sick chamber. You did it. Lucretia Borgia making an accusation. It does not matter who you executed, who you gave to the headman's block. You did it. You caused it to be done. No, sister, be calm by this assurance. I had nothing to do with the stabbing of your husband. Treachery villainy vile deed. I sobbed on Paulo's shoulder when I heard the news. Do not present me with a whim, Cesare. I am your sister Lucretia. I know you well. And I know what has happened. It's farce of the bullring. To be Guile Rome that you favored Alfonso, to make at that point a finger and say you had enslaved him. If I wanted his death, why have I come to him to lend my tears to his fellow? Tears without war. Bitter tears of sorrow and despair. Chill tears because there is death in them. A small death of me at his dying. I go to him. And I wish you to guard my husband from... Doctor, your Excellency. How is he? Remarkable. A miracle. He should be dead, but he isn't. A miracle? Remarkable. Oh, dear friend, foremost brother to me. As you would take your place in heaven now. Smile, then, because you are avenged. Bile man of an uncle slew you. And what reason could he have had Alfonso? Gentle Alfonso, sweet and brave man to struck you down. I have been stricken, too, for you are beloved of fellow Cretia, as I am beloved by her. Therefore, we share a sainted place. And when you will go, I will live long in it. Had you moved longer, sweet friend, what might it be? We would have been... What harm would this... Brother. Take me from this place. You're weak, too, dear. Warm, dear. Take me from this place. Yes, physician. A tear of chesery splashed upon my sleeve. A true tear. A jewel of a tear. Do you think Chesery wants this one alive? He wept, I saw. Do you think we should try to save this Alfonso? If it would please Chesery? I think it would. Let's ask the potion physician and the flag and appointment from Caucasia and what the pearls dissolved in their kiwines. Good, good. And they crushed scorpions. Oh, good. You reply then, physician. And I will recite the phrases I learned in the cartoon. I want you to. It was the ointment from Caucasia or the crushed scorpion or the phrases the good physician had picked up at the headwaters of the Nile. But whatever it was, Alfonso one day opened his eyes and hopped right out of bed. A miracle. Remarkable. How do you feel? I am alive again. Alive again? There are many stab wounds. I am alive again. Alive again, alive again. Reward me. I gave you vexial wire and I whispered in your ears strange and marvelous phrases. Reward me. Doctor, friend, both of you shall be rewarded. I do not know what magic they used the physician. To the block with them, full of them. Yes, yes, Your Excellency. Wait. Have them take poison instead. Before I can explain their depth as a sour stomach I will explain their heads. With exquisitely spoken. What assassins do you draw to you, Michelotto, that if they strike fifty blows and kill not? Get rid of this one. Go, Paolo, do my bid. Have the physician. Drink poison. Go. I posed the question, Michelotto. What assassins? You joined us and you struck him as well as we. Yes. I must tell you something. What? The court notices the travail on your face and so lives. They laugh behind your back. They... Who are not? Your sister looks great here now. Give her entrance, Michelotto. What do you want, sister? Your throne is as deep as mud. What do you want? To tell you that I am weary. Weary. A pretend of our fun. He is well again. You should exalt him. He is a daudera and a fool and weasty. I am weary of it. Oh. I love him no more. Come to me, sister. Weep upon my shoulder for your lost love. Yes, to you. Yes. Should I go away, Tessari? There are scholars in Pisa to regale you from our system. Go there. So that I need not see and not hear of it too long. Go. Then come back to me. Renewed. Gentle, sister. Brother. Gentle Lucretia. Gentle Michelotto. Good old Fonso. And look upon death. An emotion not to be taken in sleep, Fonso. Oh. Oh, good, Michelotto. What, you know, friend? How your seniors make a dance? Ah, ghostly dance. Oh, see the pose of you, Michelotto. Classic pose. Oh, see. It is a date. Now, let's take my point. It is a night's deed. And it is done. The next day, Cesare journeyed to Pisa. Here he and Lucretia sat at the feet of scholars and drank deeply wine of knowledge. One day, one of these savants tarried too long with Lucretia on some question not philosophical. That afternoon, the fellow fell down dead from drinking deep the wine of Cesare. One of the series of a lot of fellows who dropped down dead before Cesare himself did. A long time later on a battlefield in Spain. Later still, Lucretia died in a convent. Ah, those boys. In just a moment, Thomas Highland will tell you about next week's crime classic. Cesare Borgia, tonight's crime classic was adapted from reports and accounts of the times by Morton Fine and David Friedkin. The music was composed and conducted by Bernard Herman, and the program is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis. Thomas Highland is portrayed on radio by Lou Merrill. In tonight's story, Whitfield Connor was heard as Cesare. William Conrad is Michelotto. And Betty Lou Gerson as Lucretia. Featured in the cast were Lamont Johnson, Edgar Berrier, Hi-Averback, and Larry Thor, Bob Lamont speaking. Here again is Thomas Highland. Next week, Rutland, Vermont in the year 1850. The three fellows named Leathers, Vermontians by way of Egypt, met a young lady and were all taken by her. But you remember the old saw, two's company, four's a crowd. It's listed in my files as Widow McGee and the Three Gypsies of Vermont Fandango. Thank you. Good night. Must come to you through the worldwide facilities of the United States, armed forces, radio and television service.