To do this it was necessary to dispose the soldiers of Oliverotto da Fermo in the borgo.

These were the only troops with the condottieri in Sinigaglia; the remainder of their forces were quartered in the strongholds of the territory at distances of from five to seven miles of the town.
On the last day of that year 1502 Cesare Borgia appeared before Sinigaglia to receive the homage of those men who had used him so treacherously, and whom--with the exception of Paolo Orsini--he now met face to face for the first time since their rebellion.

Here were Francesco Orsini, Duke of Gravina, with Paolo and the latter's son Fabio; here was Oliverotto, the ruffianly Lord of Fermo, who had won his lordship by the cold-blooded murder of his kinsman, and concerning whom a rumour ran in Rome that Cesare had sworn to choke him with his own hands; and here was Vitellozzo Vitelli, the arch-traitor of them all.
Gianpaolo Baglioni was absent through illness--a matter less fatal to him than was their health to those who were present--and the Cardinal and Giulio Orsini were in Rome.
Were these captains mad to suppose that such a man as Cesare Borgia could so forget the wrong they had done him, and forgive them in this easy fashion, exacting no amends?
Were they mad to suppose that, after such proofs as they had given him of what manner of faith they kept, he would trust them hereafter with their lives to work further mischief against him?
(Well might Macchiavelli have marvelled when he beheld the terms of the treaty the duke had made with them.) Were they mad to imagine that one so crafty as Valentinois would so place himself into their hands--the hands of men who had sworn his ruin and death?
Truly, mad they must have been--rendered so by the gods who would destroy them.
The tale of that happening is graphically told by the pen of the admiring Macchiavelli, who names the affair "Il Bellissimo Inganno." That he so named it should suffice us and restrain us from criticisms of our own, accepting that criticism of his.

To us, judged from our modern standpoint, the affair of Sinigaglia is the last word in treachery and iscariotism.

But you are here concerned with the standpoint of the Cinquecento, and that standpoint Macchiavelli gives you when he describes this business as "the beautiful stratagem." To offer judgment in despite of that is to commit a fatuity, which too often already has been committed.
Here, then, is Macchiavelli's story of the event: On the morning of December 31 Cesare's army, composed of 10,000 foot and 3,000 horse,( 1) was drawn up on the banks of the River Metauro--some five miles from Sinigaglia--in accordance with his orders, awaiting his arrival.