Having on the 7th of December, 1494, entered Acquapendente, and, on the 10th, Viterbo, he there received, on the following day, a message from Pope Alexander VI., who in his own name and that of Alphonso II., King of Naples, made him an offer of a million ducats to defray the expenses of the war, and a hundred thousand livres annually, on condition that he would abandon his enterprise against the kingdom of Naples. “I have no mind to make terms with the Arragonese usurper,” answered Charles: “I will treat directly with the pope when I am in Rome, which I reckon upon entering about Christmas. I have already made known to him my intentions; I will forthwith send him ambassadors commissioned to repeat them to him.” And he did send to him the most valiant of his warriors, Louis de la Tremoille, “the which was there,” says the contemporary chronicler, John Bouchet, “with certain speakers, who, after having pompously reminded the pope of the whole history of the French kingship in its relations with the papacy, ended up in the following strain: ‘prayeth you, then, our sovereign lord the king not to give him occasion to be, to his great sorrow, the first of his lineage who ever had war and discord with the Roman Church, whereof he and the Christian Kings of France, his predecessors, have been protectors and augmenters.’ More briefly and with an affectation of sorrowful graciousness, the pope made answer to the ambassador: ‘If it please King Charles, my eldest spiritual son, to enter into my city without arms in all humility, he will be most welcome; but much would it annoy me if the army of thy king should enter, because that, under shadow of it, which is said to be great and riotous, the factions and bands of Rome might rise up and cause uproar and scandal, wherefrom great discomforts might happen to the citizens.’” For three weeks the king and the pope offered the spectacle, only too common in history, of the hypocrisy of might pitted against the hypocrisy of religion. At last the pope saw the necessity of yielding; he sent for Prince Ferdinand, son of the King of Naples, and told him that he must no longer remain at Rome with the Neapolitan troops, for that the King of France was absolute about entering; and he at the same time handed him a safe-conduct under Charles’s own hand. Ferdinand refused the safe-conduct, and threw himself upon his knees before the pope, asking him for his blessing: “Rise, my dear son,” said the pope; “go, and have good hope; God will come to our aid.” The Neapolitans departed, and on the 1st of January, 1495, Charles VIII. entered Rome with his army, “saying gentlewise,” according to Brantome, “that a while agone he had made a vow to my lord St. Peter of Rome, and that of necessity he must accomplish it at the peril of his life. Behold him, then, entered into Rome,” continues Brantome, “in bravery and triumph, himself armed at all points, with lance on thigh, as if he would fain pick forward to the charge.