Ecce Homo!
There is a rumor that Cesare Borgia is the face we associate with Jesus of Nazereth, who is called the Christ. However this got started, allow me to point out that all lean, strong men with beards in their late twenties look like Jesus. And hey, nutcake, it's Alexander VI we're talking about.
Painting by Altobello Belone, c. 1520. Supposed to be Cesare, he would have been dead for 14 years if this date is correct. He had hands the size of a racoon's, going by this. Also, the background may suggest a coming storm, but what are those two figures?
Portrait of Cesare Borgia after Bartolomeo Veneto, 1500s. Yes, under different lights and with a change of costume this could be Christ before his arrest. However, the sitter is wearing an expression of great delight and self confidence.
Pinturicchio, the young Cesare. He is not wearing the red cap, and in appearance he seems about 14 here. He did not become a bishop until he was a mature 15.
The one thing I have lots of experience at was being a young man. The boy in this picture is contemplating murder and world domination, just take my word for it. This sullen portrait shows the chrysalis of the man. Cesare had many good qualities that would have made him an asset to any army. His father, to say the least, did not hold him in check.
Cute kid, though. He needs an electric guitar.
This excellent article puts paid to the Cesare/Jesus nonsense. No point in me dragging the net for pre-Cesare portraits of Jesus when someone has already done such a good job.
Cesare Borgia, Dosso Dossi. The Gambino's have nothing on the medieval popes. As in the Pinturicchio painting, his eyes are cast down and to the left. He probably did this while he was scheming, and what better way to beguile the tedium of standing still for a portrait?
Francis Arnaud as Cesare. From The Borgias TV series. Good casting.
Orson Welles in The Prince Of Foxes, and he sure shines in the role. Orson was not always a fat joke, being quite handsome back in his day.
Francis Arnaud as Cesare. From The Borgias TV series. Good casting.
Orson Welles in The Prince Of Foxes, and he sure shines in the role. Orson was not always a fat joke, being quite handsome back in his day.
Mark Ryder as Cesare. Borgia, a show I have not seen.
Sergio Peris-Mencheta as Cesare, Los Borgia. Works for me!
This is my land now. Defy my if you dare!
Tomorrow the world, from Prince of Foxes.
Dateline, Cesena, December 26 1502. Duke Valentinois, Cesare Borgia,
puts a brutal but loyal associate in charge of his new lands of the
Romagna. Ramiro de Lorca quickly earns the hatred and contempt of
everyone there. The day after Chrismas, the duke rides in and exclaims,
'I wanted my sheep shorn, not flayed'! He even bothered to charge
Ramiro with plotting against him, Cesare was nothing if not law
abiding.* He then executes Ramiro, puts his head on a pike, and
displays the block, body and head in the town square. Now beloved by
his subjects, Cesare is the darling of the hour and no doubt jacked up
the taxes at the same time.
Machiavelli, who is dumbstruck by admiration concerning this, states
that Ramiro was cut in two pieces with a block of wood displayed next to
him. This is rather vague, so I am going with an executioner's block, I
feel sure there was one handy, and a beheading. He may have
been cut in half, these Italians were most inventive when it came to
capital punishment. The block could also have been a sort of baton
symbolizing justice and retribution, but that does not fit the Occam's
Razor constant I like to keep to.
This incident is alluded to in Dune, when Baron Vladimir Harkonnen puts
'Beast' Rabban in charge of Arrakis, so that the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha
can show up as the people's savior. *The law being, naturally, what Cesare said it was.
Cesare dreamed of carving out a kingdom for himself in the Romagna and damn near pulled it off, the death of his father could not have come at a more inopportune time for him. Escaping prison, he made his way to Spain and was killed when he attacked twenty mounted men by himself after accounting for 4 of them. He was a fantastic athlete, a great warrior, and a very able ruler. He was cruel on occasion, and tried to kill his sister's husband in front of the pope. Later he had him strangled, and made no bones about it. If he didn't kill his own brother he was certainly delighted with Juan's death. He contracted syphilis, new to Europe, and at that time the disease was horribly virulent. In spite of frequent attacks, he continued to behead bulls with one stroke and engage in boxing and wrestling matches with peasant champions. The king of France made him the Duke of Valentinois, or Duke Valentine. 'Aut Ceasar Aut Nihil' translates as 'Ceasar or Nothing'.
A Glass Of Wine With Cesare Borgia, John Collier. 1893.
That story about the Borgia's poisoning all and sundry is complete nonsense. Poison wasn't Cesare's style, he preferred extreme violence and treachery. Lucrezia is one of the most slandered women in history, she was a very kind person who was caught up in political games and was used as a dynastic pawn.
Cesare's parade sword, given to him by his doting father, Pope Alexander VI, when Cesare became gonfalionere of the papal armies i.e. the general in chief. This sword is a cinquedea, meaning that the base of the sword is five fingers in width. Terribly useful to have during misunderstandings in Italy.
Cesare Borgia leaving the Vatican after his father's death, by Giuseppi Lorenzo Gatteri. The men in the foreground have just looted the papal apartments, standard behavior following the death of a pope.
When his father died after a banquet where two other high ranking
churchmen took violently ill, Cesare also fell very seriously sick.
Poison may be indicated. Although Cesare was prepared for his dad's
death, his illness prevented any action that would retrieve his
position. The biggest mistake of his life was instructing the cardinals he controlled to vote for Giuliano della Rovere, who immediately double crossed him and threw him into confinement. The rest of his life would be spent in prison or combat. Dead at 31.
Arrivederci, Cesare.
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