Note 1. 'Le sante Marie.' So the Feast of the Assumption is called at
Florence, because devotion is paid on that day to the various images of
the Virgin scattered through the town. The 'Caporioni' of Rome were,
like aldermen, wardens of the districts into which the city was divided.
Note 2. Pier Luigi Farnese, Paul III’s bastard, was successively created
Gonfaloniere of the Church, Duke of Castro, Marquis of Novara, and
finally Duke of Parma and Piacenza in 1545. He was murdered at Parma by
his own courtiers in 1547. He was a man of infamous habits, quite unfit
for the high dignities conferred on him.
Note 3. 'Che la facessi piu netta che poteva.'
LXXVI
I REACHED Florence in due course, and paid my respects to the Duke
Alessandro, who greeted me with extraordinary kindness and pressed me to
remain in his service. There was then at Florence a sculptor called Il
Tribolino, and we were gossips, for I had stood godfather to his son.
[1] In course of conversation he told me that a certain Giacopo del
Sansovino, his first master, had sent for him; and whereas he had never
seen Venice, and because of the gains he expected, he was very glad to
go there. [2] On his asking me if I had ever been at Venice, I said no;
this made him invite me to accompany him, and I agreed. So then I told
Duke Alessandro that I wanted first to go to Venice, and that afterwards
I would return to serve him. He exacted a formal promise to this effect,
and bade me present myself before I left the city. Next day, having made
my preparations, I went to take leave of the Duke, whom I found in the
palace of the Pazzi, at that time inhabited by the wife and daughters of
Signor Lorenzo Cibo. [3] Having sent word to his Excellency that I
wished to set off for Venice with his good leave, Signor Cosimino de’
Medici, now Duke of Florence, returned with the answer that I must go to
Niccolo de Monte Aguto, who would give me fifty golden crowns, which his
Excellency bestowed on me in sign of his good-will, and afterwards I
must return to serve him.
I got the money from Niccolo, and then went to fetch Tribolo, whom I
found ready to start; and he asked me whether I had bound my sword. I
answered that a man on horseback about to take a journey ought not to
bind his sword. He said that the custom was so in Florence, since a
certain Ser Maurizio then held office, who was capable of putting S.
John the Baptist to the rack for any trifling peccadillo. [4]
Accordingly one had to carry one’s sword bound till the gates were
passed. I laughed at this, and so we set off, joining the courier to
Venice, who was nicknamed Il Lamentone. In his company we travelled
through Bologna, and arrived one evening at Ferrara. There we halted at
the inn of the Piazza, which Lamentone went in search of some Florentine
exiles, to take them letters and messages from their wives. The Duke had
given orders that only the courier might talk to them, and no one else,
under penalty of incurring the same banishment as they had. Meanwhile,
since it was a little past the hour of twenty-two, Tribolo and I went to
see the Duke of Ferrara come back from Belfiore, where he had been at a
jousting match. There we met a number of exiles, who stared at us as
though they wished to make us speak with them. Tribolo, who was the most
timorous man that I have ever known, kept on saying: “Do not look at
them or talk to them, if you care to go back to Florence.” So we stayed,
and saw the Duke return; afterwards, when we regained our inn, we found
Lamentone there. After nightfall there appeared Niccolo Benintendi, and
his brother Piero, and another old man, whom I believe to have been
Jacopo Nardi, [5] together with some young fellows, who began
immediately to ask the courier news, each man of his own family in
Florence. [6] Tribolo and I kept at a distance, in order to avoid
speaking with them. After they had talked a while with Lamentone,
Niccolo Benintendi [7] said: “I know those two men there very well;
what’s the reason they give themselves such beastly airs, and will not
talk to us?” Tribolo kept begging me to hold my tongue, while Lamentone
told them that we had not the same permission as he had. Benintendi
retorted it was idiotic nonsense, adding “Pox take them,” and other
pretty flowers of speech. Then I raised my head as gently as I could,
and said: “Dear gentlemen, you are able to do us serious injury, while
we cannot render you any assistance; and though you have flung words at
us which we are far from deserving, we do not mean on that account to
get into a rage with you.” Thereupon old Nardi said that I had spoken
like a worthy young man as I was. But Niccolo Benintendi shouted: “I
snap my fingers at them and the Duke.” [8] I replied that he was in the
wrong toward us, since we had nothing to do with him or his affairs. Old
Nardi took our part, telling Benintendi plainly that he was in the
wrong, which made him go on muttering insults. On this I bade him know
that I could say and do things to him which he would not like, and
therefore he had better mind his business, and let us alone. Once more
he cried out that he snapped his fingers at the Duke and us, and that we
were all of us a heap of donkeys. [9] I replied by giving him the lie
direct and drawing my sword. The old man wanting to be first upon the
staircase, tumbled down some steps, and all the rest of them came
huddling after him. I rushed onward, brandishing my sword along the
walls with fury, and shouting: “I will kill you all!” but I took good
care not to do them any harm, as I might too easily have done. In the
midst of this tumult the innkeeper screamed out; Lamentone cried, “For
God’s sake, hold!” some of them exclaimed, “Oh me, my head!” others,
“Let me get out from here.” In short, it was an indescribable confusion;
they looked like a herd of swine. Then the host came with a light, while
I withdrew upstairs and put my sword back in its scabbard. Lamentone
told Niccolo Benintendi that he had behaved very ill. The host said to
him: “It is as much as one’s life is worth to draw swords here; and if
the Duke were to know of your brawling, he would have you hanged. I will
not do to you what you deserve; but take care you never show yourself
again in my inn, or it will be the worse for you.” Our host then came up
to me, and when I began to make him my excuses, he would not suffer me
to say a word, but told me that he knew I was entirely in the right, and
bade me be upon my guard against those men upon my journey.
Note 1. Niccolo de’ Pericoli, a Florentine, who got the nickname of
Tribolo in his boyhood, was a sculptor of some distinction. He worked on
the bas-reliefs of San Petronio at Bologna, and helped Michel Agnolo da
Siena to execute the tomb of Adrian VI. at Rome. Afterwards he was
employed upon the sculpture of the Santa Casa at Loreto. He also made
some excellent bronzework for the Medicean villas at Cestello and
Petraja. All through his life Tribolo served the Medici, and during the
siege of Florence in 1530 he constructed a cork model of the town for
Clement VII. Born 1485, died 1550.
Note 2. This is the famous Giacopo Tatti, who took his artist’s surname
from his master, Andrea da Monte a Sansovino. His works at Florence,
Rome, and Venice are justly famous. He died in 1570, aged ninety-three.
Note 3. A brother of the Cardinal, and himself Marquis of Massa.
Note 4. Ser Maurizio was entitled Chancellor, but really superintended
the criminal magistracy of Florence. Varchi and Segni both speak of him
as harsh and cruel in the discharge of his office.
Note 5. Jacopo Nardi was the excellent historian of Florence, a strong
anti-Medicean partisan, who was exiled in 1530.
Note 6. I have translated the word 'brigata' by 'family' above, because
I find Cellini in one of his letters alluding to his family as 'la mia
brigatina.'
Note 7. Niccolo Benintendi, who had been a member of the Eight in 1529,
was exiled by the Medici in 1530.
Note 8. The Florentine slang is 'Io ho in culo loro e il duca.'
Note 9. 'Un monte di asini.'
LXXVII
AFTER we had supped, a barge-man appeared, and offered to take us to
Venice. I asked if he would let us have the boat to ourselves; he was
willing, and so we made our bargain. In the morning we rose early, and
mounted our horses for the port, which is a few miles distant from
Ferrara. On arriving there, we found Niccolo Benintendi’s brother, with
three comrades, waiting for me. They had among them two lances, and I
had bought a stout pike in Ferrara. Being very well armed to boot, I was
not at all frightened, as Tribolo was, who cried: “God help us! those
fellows are waiting here to murder us.” Lamentone turned to me and said:
“The best that you can do is to go back to Ferrara, for I see that the
affair is likely to be ugly; for Heaven’s sake, Benvenuto, do not risk
the fury of these mad beasts.” To which I replied: “Let us go forward,
for God helps those who have the right on their side; and you shall see
how I will help myself. Is not this boat engaged for us?” “Yes,” said
Lamentone. “Then we will stay in it without them, unless my manhood has
deserted me.” I put spurs to my horse, and when I was within fifty
paces, dismounted and marched boldly forward with my pike. Tribolo
stopped behind, all huddled up upon his horse, looking the very image of
frost. Lamentone, the courier, meanwhile, was swelling and snorting like
the wind. That was his usual habit; but now he did so more than he was
wont, being in doubt how this devilish affair would terminate. When I
reached the boat, the master presented himself and said that those
Florentine gentlemen wanted to embark in it with us, if I was willing. I
answered: “The boat is engaged for us and no one else, and it grieves me
to the heart that I am not able to have their company.” At these words a
brave young man of the Magalotti family spoke out: “Benvenuto, we will
make you able to have it.” To which I answered: “If God and my good
cause, together with my own strength of body and mind, possess the will
and the power, you shall not make me able to have what you say.” So
saying I leapt into the boat, and turning my pike’s point against them,
added: “I’ll show you with this weapon that I am not able.” Wishing to
prove he was in earnest, Magalotti then seized his own and came toward
me. I sprang upon the gunwale and hit him such a blow, that, if he had
not tumbled backward, I must have pierced his body. His comrades, in
lieu of helping him, turned to fly; and when I saw that I could kill
him, instead of striking, I said: “Get up, brother; take your arms and
go away. I have shown you that I cannot do what I do not want, and what
I had the power to do I have not chosen to do.” Then I called for
Tribolo, the boatman, and Lamentone to embark; and so we got under way
for Venice. When we had gone ten miles on the Po, we sighted those young
men, who had got into a skiff and caught us up; and when they were
alongside, that idiot Piero Benintendi sang out to me: “Go thy ways this
time, Benvenuto; we shall meet in Venice.” “Set out betimes then,” I
shouted, “for I am coming, and any man can meet me where he lists.” In
due course we arrived at Venice, when I applied to a brother of Cardinal
Cornaro, begging him to procure for me the favour of being allowed to
carry arms. He advised me to do so without hesitation, saying that the
worst risk I ran was that I might lose my sword.
LXXVIII
ACCORDINGLY I girded on my sword, and went to visit Jacopo del
Sansovino, the sculptor, who had sent for Tribolo. He received me most
kindly, and invited us to dinner, and we stayed with him. In course of
conversation with Tribolo, he told him that he had no work to give him
at the moment, but that he might call again. Hearing this, I burst out
laughing, and said pleasantly to Sansovino: “Your house is too far off
from his, if he must call again.” Poor Tribolo, all in dismay,
exclaimed: “I have got your letter here, which you wrote to bid me
come.” Sansovino rejoined that men of his sort, men of worth and genius,
were free to do that and greater things besides. Tribolo shrugged up his
shoulders and muttered: “Patience, patience,” several times. Thereupon,
without regarding the copious dinner which Sansovino had given me, I
took the part of my comrade Tribolo, for he was in the right. All the
while at table Sansovino had never stopped chattering about his great
achievements, abusing Michel Agnolo and the rest of his
fellow-sculptors, while he bragged and vaunted himself to the skies.
This had so annoyed me that not a single mouthful which I ate had tasted
well; but I refrained from saying more than these two words: “Messer
Jacopo, men of worth act like men of worth, and men of genius, who
produce things beautiful and excellent, shine forth far better when
other people praise them than when they boast so confidently of their
own achievements.” Upon this he and I rose from table blowing off the
steam of our choler. The same day, happening to pass near the Rialto, I
met Piero Benintendi in the company of some men; and perceiving that
they were going to pick a quarrel with me, I turned into an apothecary’s
shop till the storm blew over. Afterwards I learned that the young
Magalotti, to whom I showed that courtesy, had scolded them roundly; and
thus the affair ended.
LXXIX
A FEW days afterwards we set out on our return to Florence. We lay one
night at a place on this side Chioggia, on the left hand as you go
toward Ferrara. Here the host insisted upon being paid before we went to
bed, and in his own way; and when I observed that it was the custom
everywhere else to pay in the morning, he answered: “I insist on being
paid overnight, and in my own way.” I retorted that men who wanted
everything their own way ought to make a world after their own fashion,
since things were differently managed here. Our host told me not to go
on bothering his brains, because he was determined to do as he had said.
Tribolo stood trembling with fear, and nudged me to keep quiet, lest
they should do something worse to us; so we paid them in the way they
wanted, and afterwards we retired to rest. We had, I must admit, the
most capital beds, new in every particular, and as clean as they could
be. Nevertheless I did not get one wink of sleep, because I kept on
thinking how I could revenge myself. At one time it came into my head to
set fire to his house; at another to cut the throats of four fine horses
which he had in the stable; I saw well enough that it was easy for me to
do all this; but I could not see how it was easy to secure myself and my
companion. At last I resolved to put my things and my comrade’s on board
the boat; and so I did. When the towing-horses had been harnessed to the
cable, I ordered the people not to stir before I returned, for I had
left a pair of slippers in my bedroom. Accordingly I went back to the
inn and called our host, who told me he had nothing to do with us, and
that we might go to Jericho. [1] There was a ragged stable-boy about,
half a sleep, who cried out to me: “The master would not move to please
the Pope, because he has got a wench in bed with him, whom he has been
wanting this long while.” Then he asked me for a tip, and I gave him a
few Venetian coppers, and told him to make the barge-man wait till I had
found my slippers and returned. I went upstairs, took out a little knife
as sharp as a razor, and cut the four beds that I found there into
ribbons. I had the satisfaction of knowing I had done a damage of more
than fifty crowns. Then I ran down to the boat with some pieces of the
bed-covers [2] in my pouch, and bade the bargee start at once without
delay. We had not gone far before my gossip Tribolo said that he had
left behind some little straps belonging to his carpet-bag, and that he
must be allowed to go back for them. I answered that he need not take
thought for a pair of little straps, since I could make him as many big
ones as he liked. [3] He told me I was always joking, but that he must
really go back for his straps. Then he began ordering the bargee to
stop, while I kept ordering him to go on. Meanwhile I informed my friend
what kind of trick I had played our host, and showed him specimens of
the bed-covers and other things, which threw him into such a quaking
fright that he roared out to the bargee: “On with you, on with you, as
quick as you can!” and never thought himself quite safe until we reached
the gates of Florence.
When we arrived there, Tribolo said: “Let us bind our swords up, for the
love of God; and play me no more of your games, I beg; for all this
while I’ve felt as though my guts were in the saucepan.” I made answer:
“Gossip Tribolo, you need not tie your sword up, for you have never
loosed it;” and this I said at random, because I never once had seen him
act the man upon that journey. When he heard the remark, he looked at
his sword and cried out: “In God’s name, you speak true! Here it is
tied, just as I arranged it before I left my house.” My gossip deemed
that I had been a bad travelling companion to him, because I resented
affronts and defended myself against folk who would have done us injury.
But I deemed that he had acted a far worse part with regard to me by
never coming to my assistance at such pinches. Let him judge between us
who stands by and has no personal interest in our adventures.
Note 1. 'E che noi andassimo al bordello.'
Note 2. 'Sarge. Sargia' is interpreted 'sopraccoperta del letto.'
Note 3. The Italian for straps, 'coregge,' has a double meaning, upon
which Cellini plays.
LXXX
NO sooner had I dismounted that I went to visit Duke Alessandro, and
thanked him greatly for his present of the fifty crowns, telling his
Excellency that I was always ready to serve him according to my
abilities. He gave me orders at once to strike dies for his coinage; and
the first I made was a piece of forty soldi, with the Duke’s head on one
side and San Cosimo and San Damiano on the other. [1] This was in
silver, and it gave so much satisfaction that the Duke did not hesitate
to say they were the best pieces of money in Christendom. The same said
all Florence and every one who saw them. Consequently I asked his
Excellency to make me appointments, [2] and to grant me the lodgings of
the Mint. He bade me remain in his service, and promised he would give
me more than I demanded. Meanwhile he said he had commissioned the
Master of the Mint, a certain Carlo Acciaiuoli, and that I might go to
him for all the money that I wanted. This I found to be true; but I drew
my monies so discreetly, that I had always something to my credit,
according to my account.
I then made dies for a giulio; [3] it had San Giovanni in profile,
seated with a book in his hand, finer in my judgment than anything which
I had done; and on the other side were the armorial bearings of Duke
Alessandro. Next I made dies for half-giulios on which I struck the full
face of San Giovanni in small. This was the first coin with a head in
full face on so thin a piece of silver that had yet been seen. The
difficulty of executing it is apparent only to the eyes of such as are
past-masters in these crafts. Afterwards I made dies for the golden
crowns; this crown had a cross upon one side with some little cherubim,
and on the other side his Excellency’s arms.
When I had struck these four sorts, I begged the Duke to make out my
appointments and to assign me the lodgings I have mentioned, if he was
contented with my service. He told me very graciously that he was quite
satisfied, and that he would grant me my request. While we were thus
talking, his Excellency was in his wardrobe, looking at a remarkable
little gun that had been sent him out of Germany. [4] When he noticed
that I too paid particular attention to this pretty instrument, he put
it in my hands, saying that he knew how much pleasure I took in such
things, and adding that I might choose for earnest of his promises an
arquebuse to my own liking from the armoury, excepting only this one
piece; he was well aware that I should find things of greater beauty,
and not less excellent, there. Upon this invitation, I accepted with
thanks; and when he saw me looking round, he ordered his Master of the
Wardrobe, a certain Pretino of Lucca, to let me take whatever I liked.
[5] Then he went away with the most pleasant words at parting, while I
remained, and chose the finest and best arquebuse I ever saw, or ever
had, and took it back with me to home.
Two days afterward I brought some drawings which his Excellency had
commissioned for gold-work he wanted to give his wife, who was at that
time still in Naples. [6] I again asked him to settle my affairs. Then
his Excellency told me that he should like me first to execute the die
of his portrait in fine style, as I had done for Pope Clement. I began
it in wax; and the Duke gave orders, while I was at work upon it, that
whenever I went to take his portrait, I should be admitted. Perceiving
that I had a lengthy piece of business on my hands, I sent for a certain
Pietro Pagolo from Monte Ritondo, in the Roman district, who had been
with me from his boyhood in Rome. [7] I found him with one
Bernardonaccio, [8] a goldsmith, who did not treat him well; so I
brought him away from there, and taught him minutely how to strike coins
from those dies. Meanwhile, I went on making the Duke’s portrait; and
oftentimes I found him napping after dinner with that Lorenzino of his,
who afterwards murdered him, and no other company; and much I marvelled
that a Duke of that sort showed such confidence about his safety. 9
Note 1. These were the special patrons of the Medicean family, being
physician-saints.
Note 2. 'Che mi fermassi una provvisione.'
Note 3. The 'giulio' was a coin of 56 Italian centimes or 8 Tuscan
'crazie,' which in Florence was also called 'barile' or 'gabellotto,'
because the sum had to be paid as duty on a barrel of wine.
Note 4. See above, p. 120, for the right meaning of wardrobe.
Note 5. Messer Francesco of Lucca, surnamed Il Pretino.
Note 6. Margaret of Austria, natural daughter of Charles V., was
eventually married in 1536 to Alessandro de’ Medici.
Note 7. Pietro Pagolo Galleotti, much praised by Vasari for his artistic
skill.
Note 8. Perhaps Bernardo Sabatini.
Note 9. This is the famous Tuscan Brutus who murdered Alessandro. He was
descended from Lorenzo de’ Medici, the brother of Cosimo, 'Pater
Patriæ,' and the uncle of Lorenzo the Magnificent.
LXXXI
IT happened at this time Ottaviano de’ Medici, [1] who to all
appearances had got the government of everything in his own hands,
favoured the old Master of the Mint against the Duke’s will. This man
was called Bastiano Cennini, an artist of the antiquated school, and of
little skill in his craft. [2] Ottaviano mixed his stupid dies with mine
in the coinage of crown-pieces. I complained of this to the Duke, who,
when he saw how the matter stood, took it very ill, and said to me: “Go,
tell this to Ottaviano de’ Medici, and show him how it is.” [3] I lost
no time; and when I had pointed out the injury that had been done to my
fine coins, he answered, like the donkey that he was: “We choose to have
it so.” I replied that it ought not to be so, and that I did not choose
to have it so. He said: “And if the Duke likes to have it so?” I
answered: “It would not suit me, for the thing is neither just nor
reasonable.” He told me to take myself off, and that I should have no
swallow it in this way, even if I burst. Then I returned to the Duke,
and related the whole unpleasant conversation between Ottaviano de’
Medici and me, entreating his Excellency not to allow the fine coins
which I had made for him to be spoiled, and begging for permission to
leave Florence. He replied: “Ottaviano is too presuming: you shall have
what you want; for this is an injury offered to myself.”
That very day, which was a Thursday, I received from Rome a full
safe-conduct from the Pope, with advice to go there at once and get the
pardon of Our Lady’s feast in mid-August, in order that I might clear
myself from the penalties attaching to my homicide. I went to the Duke,
whom I found in bed, for they told me he was suffering the consequence
of a debauch. In little more than two hours I finished what was wanted
for his waxen medal; and when I showed it to him, it pleased him
extremely. Then I exhibited the safe-conduct sent me at the order of the
Pope, and told him how his Holiness had recalled me to execute certain
pieces of work; on this account I should like to regain my footing in
the fair city of Rome, which would not prevent my attending to his
medal. The Duke made answer half in anger: “Benvenuto, do as I desire:
stay here; I will provide for your appointments, and will give you the
lodgings in the Mint, with much more than you could ask for, because
your requests are only just and reasonable. And who do you think will be
able to strike the beautiful dies which you have made for me?” Then I
said: “My lord, I have thought of everything, for I have here a pupil of
mine, a young Roman whom I have taught the art; he will serve your
Excellency very well till I return with your medal finished, to remain
for ever in your service. I have in Rome a shop open, with journeymen
and a pretty business; as soon as I have got my pardon, I will leave all
the devotion of Rome [4] to a pupil of mine there, and will come back,
with your Excellency’s good permission, to you.” During this
conversation, the Lorenzino de’ Medici whom I have above mentioned was
present, and no one else. The Duke frequently signed to him that he
should join in pressing me to stay; but Lorenzino never said anything
except: “Benvenuto, you would do better to remain where you are.” I
answered that I wanted by all means to regain my hold on Rome. He made
no reply, but continued eyeing the Duke with very evil glances. When I
had finished the medal to my liking, and shut it in its little box, I
said to the Duke: “My lord, pray let me have your good-will, for I will
make you a much finer medal than the one I made for Pope Clement. It is
only reasonable that I should since that was the first I ever made.
Messer Lorenzo here will give me some exquisite reverse, as he is a
person learned and of the greatest genius.” To these words Lorenzo
suddenly made answer: “I have been thinking of nothing else but how to
give you a reverse worthy of his Excellency.” The Duke laughed a little,
and looking at Lorenzo, said: “Lorenzo, you shall give him the reverse,
and he shall do it here and shall not go away.” Lorenzo took him up at
once, saying: “I will do it as quickly as I can, and I hope to do
something that shall make the whole world wonder.” The Duke, who held
him sometimes for a fool and sometimes for a coward, turned about in
bed, and laughed at his bragging, words. I took my leave without further
ceremony, and left them alone together. The Duke, who did not believe
that I was really going, said nothing further. Afterwards, when he knew
that I was gone, he sent one of his servants, who caught me up at Siena,
and gave me fifty golden ducats with a message from the Duke that I
should take and use them for his sake, and should return as soon as
possible; “and from Messer Lorenzo I have to tell you that he is
preparing an admirable reverse for that medal which you want to make.” I
had left full directions to Petro Pagolo, the Roman above mentioned, how
he had to use the dies; but as it was a very delicate affair, he never
quite succeeded in employing them. I remained creditor to the Mint in a
matter of more than seventy crowns on account of dies supplied by me.
Note 1. This Ottaviano was not descended from either Cosimo or Lorenzo
de’ Medici, but from an elder, though less illustrious, branch of the
great family. He married Francesca Salviati, the aunt of Duke Cosimo.
Though a great patron of the arts and an intimate friend of M. A.
Buonarroti, he was not popular, owing to his pride of place.
Note 2. Cellini praises this man, however, in the preface to the
'Oreficeria.'
Note 3. 'Mostragnene.' This is perhaps equivalent to 'mostraglielo.'
Note 4. 'Tutta la divozione di Roma.' It is not very clear what this
exactly means. Perhaps “all the affection and reverence I have for the
city of Rome,” or merely “all my ties in Rome.”
LXXXII
ON the journey to Rome I carried with me that handsome arquebuse which
the Duke gave me; and very much to my own pleasure, I used it several
times by the way, performing incredible feats by means of it. The little
house I had in Strada Giulia was not ready; so I dismounted at the house
of Messer Giovanni Gaddi, clerk of the Camera, to whose keeping I had
committed, on leaving Rome, many of my arms and other things I cared
for. So I did not choose to alight at my shop, but sent for Felice, my
partner, and got him to put my little dwelling forthwith into excellent
order. The day following, I went to sleep there, after well providing
myself with clothes and all things requisite, since I intended to go and
thank the Pope next morning.
I had two young serving-lads, and beneath my lodgings lived a laundress
who cooked extremely nicely for me. That evening I entertained several
friends at supper, and having passed the time with great enjoyment,
betook myself to bed. The night had hardly ended, indeed it was more
than an hour before daybreak, when I heard a furious knocking at the
house-door, stroke succeeding stroke without a moment’s pause.
Accordingly I called my elder servant, Cencio [1] (he was the man I took
into the necromantic circle), and bade him to go and see who the madman
was that knocked so brutally at that hour of the night. While Cencio was
on this errand, I lighted another lamp, for I always keep one by me at
night; then I made haste to pass an excellent coat of mail over my
shirt, and above that some clothes which I caught up at random. Cencio
returned, exclaiming: “Heavens, master! it is the Bargello and all his
guard; and he says that if you do not open at once, he will knock the
door down. They have torches, and a thousand things besides with them!”
I answered: “Tell them that I am huddling my clothes on, and will come
out to them in my shirt.” Supposing it was a trap laid to murder me, as
had before been done by Signor Pier Luigi, I seized an excellent dagger
with my right hand, and with the left I took the safe-conduct; then I
ran to the back-window, which looked out on gardens, and there I saw
more than thirty constables; wherefore I knew that I could not escape
upon that side. I made the two lads go in front, and told them to open
the door exactly when I gave the word to do so. Then taking up an
attitude of defence, with the dagger in my right hand and the
safe-conduct in my left, I cried to the lads: “Have no fear, but open!”
The Bargello, Vittorio, and the officers sprang inside at once, thinking
they could easily lay hands upon me; but when they saw me prepared in
that way to receive them, they fell back, exclaiming: “We have a serious
job on hand here!” Then I threw the safe-conduct to them, and said:
“Read that! and since you cannot seize me, I do not mean that you shall
touch me.” The Bargello upon this ordered some of his men to arrest me,
saying he would look to the safe-conduct later. Thereat I presented my
arms boldly, calling aloud: “Let God defend the right! Either I shall
escape your hands alive, or be taken a dead corpse!” The room was
crammed with men; they made as though they would resort to violence; I
stood upon my guard against them; so that the Bargello saw he would not
be able to have me except in the way I said. Accordingly he called his
clerk, and while the safe-conduct as being read, he showed by signs two
or three times that he meant to have me secured by his officers; but
this had no effect of shaking my determination. At last they gave up the
attempt, threw my safe-conduct on the ground, and went away without
their prize.
Note 1. 'I. e.,' Vincenzio Romoli.
LXXXIII
WHEN I returned to bed, I felt so agitated that I could not get to sleep
again. My mind was made up to let blood as soon as day broke. However, I
asked advice of Messer Gaddi, and he referred to a wretched
doctor-fellow he employed, [1] who asked me if I had been frightened.
Now, just consider what a judicious doctor this was, after I had
narrated an occurrence of that gravity, to ask me such a question! He
was an empty fribbler, who kept perpetually laughing about nothing at
all. Simpering and sniggering, then, he bade me drink a good cup of
Greek wine, keep my spirits up, and not be frightened. Messer Giovanni,
however, said: “Master, a man of bronze or marble might be frightened in
such circumstances. How much more one of flesh and blood!” The quack
responded: “Monsignor, we are not all made after the same pattern; this
fellow is no man of bronze or marble, but of pure iron.” Then he gave
one of his meaningless laughs, and putting his fingers on my wrist,
said: “Feel here; this is not a man’s pulse, but a lion’s or a
dragon’s.” At this, I, whose blood was thumping in my veins, probably
far beyond anything which that fool of a doctor had learned from his
Hippocrates or Galen, knew at once how serious was my situation; yet
wishing not to add to my uneasiness and to the harm I had already taken,
I made show of being in good spirits. While this was happening, Messer
Giovanni had ordered dinner, and we all of us sat down to eat in
company. I remembered that Messer Lodovico da Fano, Messer Antonio
Allegretti, Messer Giovanni Greco, all of them men of the finest
scholarship, and Messer Annibal Caro, who was then quite young, were
present. At table the conversation turned entirely upon my act of
daring. They insisted on hearing the whole story over and over again
from my apprentice Cencio, who was a youth of superlative talent,
bravery, and extreme personal beauty. Each time that he described my
truculent behaviour, throwing himself into the attitudes I had assumed,
and repeating the words which I had used, he called up some fresh detail
to my memory. They kept asking him if he had been afraid; to which he
answered that they ought to ask me if I had been afraid, because he felt
precisely the same as I had.
All this chattering grew irksome to me; and since I still felt strongly
agitated, I rose at last from table, saying that I wanted to go and get
new clothes of blue silk and stuff for him and me; adding that I meant
to walk in procession after four days at the feast of Our Lady, and
meant Cencio to carry a white lighted torch on the occasion. Accordingly
I took my leave, and had the blue cloth cut, together with a handsome
jacket of blue sarcenet and a little doublet of the same; and I had a
similar jacket and waistcoat made for Cencio.
When these things had been cut out, I went to see the Pope, who told me
to speak with Messer Ambruogio; for he had given orders that I should
execute a large piece of golden plate. So I went to find Messer
Ambruogio, who had heard the whole of the affair of the Bargello, and
had been in concert with my enemies to bring me back to Rome, and had
scolded the Bargello for not laying hands on me. The man excused himself
by saying that he could not do so in the face of the safe-conduct which
I held. Messer Ambruogio now began to talk about the Pope’s commission,
and bade me make drawings for it, saying that the business should be put
at once in train. Meanwhile the feast of Our Lady came round. Now it is
the custom for those who get a pardon upon this occasion to give
themselves up to prison; in order to avoid doing which I returned to the
Pope, and told his Holiness that I was very unwilling to go to prison,
and that I begged him to grant me the favour of a dispensation. The Pope
answered that such was the custom, and that I must follow it. Thereupon
I fell again upon my knees, and thanked him for the safe-conduct he had
given me, saying at the same time that I should go back with it to serve
my Duke in Florence, who was waiting for me so impatiently. On hearing
this, the Pope turned to one of his confidential servants and said: “Let
Benvenuto get his grace without the prison, and see that his 'moto
proprio' is made out in due form.” As soon as the document had been
drawn up, his Holiness signed it; it was then registered at the Capitol;
afterwards, upon the day appointed, I walked in procession very
honourably between two gentlemen, and so got clear at last.
Note 1. Possibly Bernardino Lilii of Todi.
LXXXIV
FOUR days had passed when I was attacked with violent fever attended by
extreme cold; and taking to my bed, I made my mind up that I was sure to
die. I had the first doctors of Rome called in, among whom was Francesco
da Norcia, a physician of great age, and of the best repute in Rome. [1]
I told them what I believed to be the cause of my illness, and said that
I had wished to let blood, but that I had been advised against it; and
if it was not too late, I begged them to bleed me now. Maestro Francesco
answered that it would not be well for me to let blood then, but that if
I had done so before, I should have escaped without mischief; at present
they would have to treat the case with other remedies. So they began to
doctor me as energetically as they were able, while I grew daily worse
and worse so rapidly, that after eight days the physicians despaired of
my life, and said that I might be indulged in any whim I had to make me
comfortable. Maestro Francesco added: “As long as there is breath in
him, call me at all hours; for no one can divine what Nature is able to
work in a young man of this kind; moreover, if he should lose
consciousness, administer these five remedies one after the other, and
send for me, for I will come at any hour of the night; I would rather
save him than any of the cardinals in Rome.”
Every day Messer Giovanni Gaddi came to see me two or three times, and
each time he took up one or other of my handsome fowling-pieces, coats
of mail, or swords, using words like these: “That is a handsome thing,
that other is still handsomer;” and likewise with my models and other
trifles, so that at last he drove me wild with annoyance. In his company
came a certain Matio Franzesi [2] and this man also appeared to be
waiting impatiently for my death, not indeed because he would inherit
anything from me, but because he wished for what his master seemed to
have so much at heart.
Felice, my partner, was always at my side, rendering the greatest
services which it is possible for one man to give another. Nature in me
was utterly debilitated and undone; I had not strength enough to fetch
my breath back if it left me; and yet my brain remained as clear and
strong as it had been before my illness. Nevertheless, although I kept
my consciousness, a terrible old man used to come to my bedside, and
make as though he would drag me by force into a huge boat he had with
him. This made me call out to my Felice to draw near and chase that
malignant old man away. Felice, who loved me most affectionately, ran
weeping and crying: “Away with you, old traitor; you are robbing me of
all the good I have in this world.” Messer Giovanni Gaddi, who was
present, then began to say: “The poor fellow is delirious, and has only
a few hours to live.” His fellow, Mattio Franzesi, remarked: “He has
read Dante, and in the prostration of his sickness this apparition has
appeared to him” [3] then he added laughingly: “Away with you, old
rascal, and don’t bother our friend Benvenuto.” When I saw that they
were making fun of me, I turned to Messer Gaddi and said: “My dear
master, know that I am not raving, and that it is true that this old man
is really giving me annoyance; but the best that you can do for me would
be to drive that miserable Mattio from my side, who is laughing at my
affliction, afterwards if your lordship deigns to visit me again, let me
beg you to come with Messer Antonio Allegretti, or with Messer Annibal
Caro, or with some other of your accomplished friends, who are persons
of quite different intelligence and discretion from that beast.”
Thereupon Messer Giovanni told Mattio in jest to take himself out of his
sight for ever; but because Mattio went on laughing, the joke turned to
earnest, for Messer Giovanni would not look upon him again, but sent for
Messer Antonio Allegretti, Messer Ludovico, and Messer Annibal Caro. On
the arrival of these worthy men, I was greatly comforted, and talked
reasonably with them awhile, not however without frequently urging
Felice to drive the old man away. Messer Ludovico asked me what it was I
seemed to see, and how the man was shaped. While I portrayed him
accurately in words, the old man took me by the arm and dragged me
violently towards him. This made me cry out for aid, because he was
going to fling me under hatches in his hideous boat. On saying that last
word, I fell into a terrible swoon, and seemed to be sinking down into
the boat. They say that during that fainting-fit I flung myself about
and cast bad words at Messer Giovanni Gaddi, to wit, that he came to rob
me, and not from any motive of charity, and other insults of the kind,
which caused him to be much ashamed. Later on, they say I lay still like
one dead; and after waiting by me more than an hour, thinking I was
growing cold, they left me for dead. When they returned home, Mattio
Franzesi was informed, who wrote to Florence to Messer Benedetto Varchi,
my very dear friend, that they had seen me die at such and such an hour
of the night. When he heard the news, that most accomplished man and my
dear friend composed an admirable sonnet upon my supposed but not real
death, which shall be reported in its proper place.
More than three long hours passed, and yet I did not regain
consciousness. Felice having used all the remedies prescribed by Maestro
Francesco, and seeing that I did not come to, ran post-haste to the
physician’s door, and knocked so loudly that he woke him up, and made
him rise, and begged him with tears to come to the house, for he thought
that I was dead. Whereto Maestro Francesco, who was a very choleric man,
replied: “My son, of what use do you think I should be if I came? If he
is dead, I am more sorry than you are. Do you imagine that if I were to
come with my medicine I could blow breath up through his guts [4] and
bring him back to life for you?” But when he saw that the poor young
fellow was going away weeping, he called him back and gave him an oil
with which to anoint my pulses, and my heart, telling him to pinch my
little fingers and toes very tightly, and to send at once to call him if
I should revive. Felice took his way, and did as Maestro Francesco had
ordered. It was almost bright day when, thinking they would have to
abandon hope, they gave orders to have my shroud made and to wash me.
Suddenly I regained consciousness, and called out to Felice to drive
away the old man on the moment, who kept tormenting me. He wanted to
send for Maestro Francesco, but I told him not to do so, but to come
close up to me, because that old man was afraid of him and went away at
once. So Felice drew near to the bed; I touched him, and it seemed to me
that the infuriated old man withdrew; so I prayed him not to leave me
for a second.
When Maestro Francesco appeared, he said it was his dearest wish to save
my life, and that he had never in all his days seen greater force in a
young man than I had. Then he sat down to write, and prescribed for me
perfumes, lotions, unctions, plasters, and a heap of other precious
things. Meanwhile I came to life again by the means of more than twenty
leeches applied to my buttocks, but with my body bore through, bound,
and ground to powder. Many of my friends crowded in to behold the
miracle of the resuscitated dead man, and among them people of the first
importance.
In their presence I declared that the small amount of gold and money I
possessed, perhaps some eight hundred crowns, what with gold, silver,
jewels, and cash, should be given by my will to my poor sister in
Florence, called Mona Liperata; all the remainder of my property, armour
and everything besides, I left to my dearest Felice, together with fifty
golden ducats, in order that he might buy mourning. At those words
Felice flung his arms around my neck, protesting that he wanted nothing
but to have me as he wished alive with him. Then I said: “If you want me
alive, touch me as you did before, and threaten the old man, for he is
afraid of you.” At these words some of the folk were terrified, knowing
that I was not raving, but talking to the purpose and with all my wits.
Thus my wretched malady went dragging on, and I got but little better.
Maestro Francesco, that most excellent man, came four or five times a
day; Messer Giovanni Gaddi, who felt ashamed, did not visit me again. My
brother-in-law, the husband of my sister, arrived; he came from Florence
for the inheritance; but as he was a very worthy man, he rejoiced
exceedingly to have found me alive. The sight of him did me a world of
good, and he began to caress me at once, saying he had only come to take
care of me in person; and this he did for several days. Afterwards I
sent him away, having almost certain hope of my recovery. On this
occasion he left the sonnet of Messer Benedetto Varchi, which runs as
follows: 5
“Who shall, Mattio, yield our pain relief?
Who shall forbid the sad expense of tears?
Alas! ‘tis true that in his youthful years
Our friend hath flown, and left us here to grief.
“He hath gone up to heaven, who was the chief
Of men renowned in art’s immortal spheres;
Among the mighty dead he had no peers,
Nor shall earth see his like, in my belief.
O gentle sprite! if love still sway the blest,
Look down on him thou here didst love, and view
These tears that mourn my loss, not thy great good.
“There dost thou gaze on His beatitude
Who made our universe, and findest true
The form of Him thy skill for men expressed.”
Note 1. Francesco Fusconi, physician to Popes Adrian VI., Clement VII.,
and Paul III.
Note 2. Franzesi was a clever Italian poet. His burlesque Capitoli are
printed with those of Berni and others.
Note 3. 'Inferno,' iii., the verses about Charon.
Note 4. 'Io ali possa soffiare in culo.'
Note 5. This sonnet is so insipid, so untrue to Cellini’s real place in
art, so false to the far from saintly character of the man, that I would
rather have declined translating it, had I not observed it to be a good
example of that technical and conventional insincerity which was
invading Italy at this epoch. Varchi was really sorry to hear the news
of Cellini’s death; but for his genuine emotion he found spurious
vehicles of utterance. Cellini, meanwhile, had a right to prize it,
since it revealed to him what friendship was prepared to utter after his
decease.
LXXXV
MY sickness had been of such a very serious nature that it seemed
impossible for me to fling it off. That worthy man Maestro Francesco da
Norcia redoubled his efforts, and brought me every day fresh remedies,
trying to restore strength to my miserable unstrung frame. Yet all these
endeavours were apparently insufficient to overcome the obstinacy of my
malady, so that the physicians were in despair and at their wits’ ends
what to do. I was tormented by thirst, but had abstained from drinking
for many days according to the doctors’ orders. Felice, who thought he
had done wonders in restoring me, never left my side. That old man
ceased to give so much annoyance, yet sometimes he appeared to me in
dreams.
One day Felice had gone out of doors, leaving me under the care of a
young apprentice and a servant-maid called Beatrice. I asked the
apprentice what had become of my lad Cencio, and what was the reason why
I had never seen him in attendance on me. The boy replied that Cencio
had been far more ill than I was, and that he was even at death’s door.
Felice had given them orders not to speak to me of this. On hearing the
news, I was exceedingly distressed; then I called the maid Beatrice, a
Pistojan girl, and asked her to bring me a great crystal water-cooler
which stood near, full of clear and fresh water. She ran at once, and
brought it to me full; I told her to put it to my lips, adding that if
she let me take a draught according to my heart’s content, I would give
her a new gown. This maid had stolen from me certain little things of
some importance, and in her fear of being detected, she would have been
very glad if I had died. Accordingly she allowed me twice to take as
much as I could of the water, so that in good earnest I swallowed more
than a flask full. [1] I then covered myself, and began to sweat, and
fell into a deep sleep. After I had slept about an hour, Felice came
home and asked the boy how I was getting on. He answered: “I do not
know. Beatrice brought him that cooler full of water, and he has drunk
almost the whole of it. I don’t know now whether he is alive or dead.”
They say that my poor friend was on the point of falling to the ground,
so grieved was he to hear this. Afterwards he took an ugly stick and
began to beat the serving-girl with all his might, shouting out: “Ah!
traitress, you have killed him for me then?” While Felice was cudgelling
and she screaming, I was in a dream; I thought the old man held ropes in
his hand, and while he was preparing to bind me, Felice had arrived and
struck him with an axe, so that the old man fled exclaiming: “Let me go,
and I promise not to return for a long while.” Beatrice in the meantime
had run into my bedroom shrieking loudly. This woke me up, and I called
out: “Leave her alone; perhaps, when she meant to do me harm, she did me
more good than you were able to do with all your efforts. She may indeed
have saved my life; so lend me a helping hand, for I have sweated; and
be quick about it.” Felice recovered his spirits, dried and made me
comfortable; and I, being conscious of a great improvement in my state,
began to reckon on recovery.
When Maestro Francesco appeared and saw my great improvement, and the
servant-girl in tears, and the prentice running to and fro, and Felice
laughing, all this disturbance made him think that something
extraordinary must have happened, which had been the cause of my
amendment. Just then the other doctor, Bernardino, put in his
appearance, who at the beginning of my illness had refused to bleed me.
Maestro Francesco, that most able man, exclaimed: “Oh, power of Nature!
She knows what she requires, and the physicians know nothing.” That
simpleton, Maestro Bernardino, made answer, saying: “If he had drunk
another bottle he would have been cured upon the spot.” Maestro
Francesco da Norcia, a man of age and great authority, said: “That would
have been a terrible misfortune, and would to God that it may fall on
you!” Afterwards he turned to me and asked if I could have drunk more
water. I answered: “No, because I had entirely quenched my thirst.” Then
he turned to Maestro Bernardino, and said: “Look you how Nature has
taken precisely what she wanted, neither more nor less. In like manner
she was asking for what she wanted when the poor young man begged you to
bleed him. If you knew that his recovery depended upon his drinking two
flasks of water, why did you not say so before? You might then have
boasted of his cure.” At these words the wretched quack sulkily
departed, and never showed his face again.
Maestro Francesco then gave orders that I should be removed from my room
and carried to one of the hills there are in Rome. Cardinal Cornaro,
when he heard of my improvement, had me transported to a place of his on
Monte Cavallo. The very evening I was taken with great precautions in a
chair, well wrapped up and protected from the cold. No sooner had I
reached the place than I began to vomit, during which there came from my
stomach a hairy worm about a quarter of a cubit in length: the hairs
were long, and the worm was very ugly, speckled of divers colours,
green, black, and red. They kept and showed it to the doctor, who said
he had never seen anything of the sort before, and afterwards remarked
to Felice: “Now take care of your Benvenuto, for he is cured. Do not
permit him any irregularities; for though he has escaped this time,
another disorder now would be the death of him. You see his malady has
been so grave, that if we had brought him the extreme unction, we might
not have been in time. Now I know that with a little patience and time
he will live to execute more of his fine works.” Then he turned to me
and said: “My Benvenuto, be prudent, commit no excesses, and when you
are quite recovered, I beg you to make me a Madonna with your own hand,
and I will always pay my devotions to it for your sake.” This I promised
to do, and then asked him whether it would be safe for me to travel so
far as to Florence. He advised me to wait till I was stronger, and till
we could observe how Nature worked in me.
Note 1. 'Un fiasco,' holding more than a quart. |
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