Reports of Caesar’s death reached his sister--who in January, 1505, had become Duchess of Ferrara--by way of Naples promptly, and she dispatched one of her servants, a certain Tullio, to Navarre to ascertain whether the rumour was true. As he progressed on his journey he became convinced of the truth of the report, and therefore returned to Ferrara without going to Navarre. The last doubt was dispelled when Juanico Grasica, who had been present at Caesar’s funeral and who had been sent by King Jean d’Albret to inform Lucretia of his death, appeared in Ferrara. Alfonso was absent from his domain, and his brother, Cardinal Ippolito d’Este was the first to receive the news, which he immediately directed Jeronimo Magnanini, the Duke’s secretary, to communicate to his master. This he did in a long letter giving full particulars of Caesar’s death taken down from the lips of his faithful squire Grasica. The details were confirmed by Costabili, who had just come from Rome. Accounts of Valentino’s death are given by Zurita, Moret, Esteban de Garribay, and Avalos de la Piscina, and all closely agree with that of Grasica. Lucretia’s grief was profound and apparently sincere, and many were the prayers she directed to be said for the repose of Caesar’s soul. Shortly afterwards her Court poet, Ercole Strozzi, dedicated his “Epicedium,” a funeral oration in verse, in honour of Valentino, to her, but Jacopo Sannazzaro, the mortal enemy of the Borgia, invited his friends and all Italy to join him in making merry over “this happy event.” Caesar, deprived of the support of the Vatican, was merely a bold condottiere, a soldier of fortune, and with these Italy teemed in his day. He was ready to sell his services to the highest bidder, provided he could advance his own projects. Although he was no longer in a position to harm his enemies, all Italy breathed a sigh of relief when the news of his death was confirmed; even Julius II., who was more than a match for Caesar, felt easier, and henceforth he was able peaceably to carry on the work of reconstructing the domain of the Church. Had Valentino survived and entered the employ of Venice in her conflict with the Pope for the possession of Romagna, or if he had taken the side of France when his Holiness withdrew from the League of Cambray, he might have recovered his former influence and power. But all Italy now laughed at the adventurer who had inscribed on his sword the words, _Aut Caesar, aut nihil_. Still, there were a few individuals who remained faithful to his memory, and a number of poets published panegyrics and bewailed the loss of the hero. Hieronimus Portius, the Strozzi, Francesco Justolo, and Uberti saw fit to lament him in more or less polished verse. One of the most famous of the epitaphs was written by Jeronimo Casio of Bologna, who had known Caesar:--