Yet in truth this same expedition was pregnant with results not only for Spain but the whole of Western Christendom, results so far-reaching that the history of modern Europe is often said to have begun at this date. Mediæval Italy had rallied for a moment, but she had none the less received her death-blow, the very incompetence and folly of her conqueror revealing her mortal weakness. Never again, till centuries had passed would her sunny fields and pleasant cities be free from foreign menace; never again would her native rulers be left to plot and plan her future undisturbed. Her beauty, her culture, her luxury had aroused the lust of younger and hardier nations; and against their strength she could offer no adequate defence. Ludovico Sforza had boasted too soon, when he depicted a map of Italy, with himself broom in hand sweeping the other Powers before him where he would. In April, 1498, Charles VIII. of France died and was succeeded by his cousin, Louis, Duke of Orleans, who at once styled himself King of Naples and Duke of Milan. The assumption of these titles foretold his invasion of Italy, whenever a favourable opportunity should occur, a hint of which other Powers were not slow to take advantage. Venice, at the price of a small stretch of Lombard territory for her mainland empire, agreed to Ludovico’s ruin, with a shortsightedness that aroused Peter Martyr’s shrewd comment to a Venetian friend: “The King of France, after he has dined with the Duke of Milan, will sup with you.” The Pope, anxious to found a kingdom in Romagna for his family, also put away former anti-French prejudices, and granted a divorce, much desired by Louis XII., in return for a bride and the title “Duke of Valentinois” for his son, Cæsar Borgia.