Note 2. 'Vedendo il bello.'
Note 3. This document exists, and is dated July 15, 1544. See 'Bianchi,'
p. 585.
XLI
IN the meantime I brought my silver Jupiter to completion, together with
its gilded pedestal, which I placed upon a wooden plinth that only
showed a very little; upon the plinth I introduced four little round
balls of hard wood, more than half hidden in their sockets, like the nut
of a crossbow. They were so nicely arranged that a child could push the
statue forward and backwards, or turn it round with ease. Having
arranged it thus to my mind, I went with it to Fountainebleau, where the
King was then residing.
At that time, Bologna, of whom I have already said so much, had brought
from Rome his statues, and had cast them very carefully in bronze. I
knew nothing about this, partly because he kept his doings very dark,
and also because Fontainebleau is forty miles distant from Paris. On
asking the King where he wanted me to set up my Jupiter, Madame
d’Etampes, who happened to be present, told him there was no place more
appropriate than his own handsome gallery. This was, as we should say in
Tuscany, a loggia, or, more exactly, a large lobby; it ought indeed to
be called a lobby, because what we mean by loggia is open at one side.
The hall was considerably longer than 100 paces, decorated, and very
rich with pictures from the hand of that admirable Rosso, our Florentine
master. Among the pictures were arranged a great variety of sculptured
works, partly in the round, and partly in bas-relief. The breadth was
about twelve paces. Now Bologna had brought all his antiques into this
gallery, wrought with great beauty in bronze, and had placed them in a
handsome row upon their pedestals; and they were, as I have said, the
choicest of the Roman antiquities. Into this same gallery I took my
Jupiter; and when I saw that grand parade, so artfully planned, I said
to myself: “This is like running the gauntlet; [1] now may God assist
me.” I placed the statue, and having arranged it as well as I was able,
waited for the coming of the King. The Jupiter was raising his
thunderbolt with the right hand in the act to hurl it; his left hand
held the globe of the world. Among the flames of the thunderbolt I had
very cleverly introduced a torch of white wax. Now Madame d’Etampes
detained the King till nightfall, wishing to do one of two mischiefs,
either to prevent his coming, or else to spoil the effect of my work by
its being shown off after dark; but as God has promised to those who
trust in Him, it turned out exactly opposite to her calculations; for
when night came, I set fire to the torch, which standing higher than the
head of Jupiter, shed light from above and showed the statue far better
than by daytime.
At length the King arrived; he was attended by his Madame d’Etampes, his
son the Dauphin and the Dauphiness, together with the King of Navarre
his brother-in-law, Madame Marguerite his daughter, [2] and several
other great lords, who had been instructed by Madame d’Etampes to speak
against me. When the King appeared, I made my prentice Ascanio push the
Jupiter toward his Majesty. As it moved smoothly forwards, my cunning in
its turn was amply rewarded, for this gentle motion made the figure seem
alive; the antiques were left in the background, and my work was the
first to take the eye with pleasure. The King exclaimed at once: “This
is by far the finest thing that has ever been seen; and I, although I am
an amateur and judge of art, could never have conceived the hundredth
part of its beauty.” The lords whose cue it was to speak against me, now
seemed as though they could not praise my masterpiece enough. Madame
d’Etampes said boldly: “One would think you had no eyes! Don’t you see
all those fine bronzes from the antique behind there? In those consists
the real distinction of this art, and not in that modern trumpery.” Then
the King advanced, and the others with him. After casting a glance at
the bronzes, which were not shown to advantage from the light being
below them, he exclaimed: “Whoever wanted to injure this man has done
him a great service; for the comparison of these admirable statues
demonstrates the immeasurable superiority of his work in beauty and in
art. Benvenuto deserves to be made much of, for his performances do not
merely rival, but surpass the antique.” In reply to this, Madame
d’Etampes observed that my Jupiter would not make anything like so fine
a show by daylight; besides, one had to consider that I had put a veil
upon my statue to conceal its faults. I had indeed flung a gauze veil
with elegance and delicacy over a portion of my statue, with the view of
augmenting its majesty. This, when she had finished speaking, I lifted
from beneath, uncovering the handsome genital members of the god; then
tore the veil to pieces with vexation. She imagined I had disclosed
those parts of the statue to insult her. The King noticed how angry she
was, while I was trying to force some words out in my fury; so he wisely
spoke, in his own language, precisely as follows: “Benvenuto, I forbid
you to speak; hold your tongue, and you shall have a thousand times more
wealth than you desire.” Not being allowed to speak, I writhed my body
in a rage; this made her grumble with redoubled spite; and the King
departed sooner than he would otherwise have done, calling aloud,
however, to encourage me: “I have brought from Italy the greatest man
who ever lived, endowed with all the talents.”
Note 1. 'Questo si e come passare in fra le picche.'
Note 2. Born 1523. Married Emmanuele Filiberto, Duke of Savoy, in 1559.
Died 1574.
XLII
I LEFT the Jupiter there, meaning to depart the next morning. Before I
took horse, one thousand crowns were paid me, partly for my salary, and
partly on account of monies I had disbursed. Having received this sum, I
returned with a light heart and satisfied to Paris. No sooner had I
reached home and dined with merry cheer, than I called for all my
wardrobe, which included a great many suits of silk, choice furs, and
also very fine cloth stuffs. From these I selected presents for my
workpeople, giving each something according to his own desert, down to
the servant-girls and stable-boys, in order to encourage them to aid me
heartily.
Being then refreshed in strength and spirits, I attacked the great
statue of Mars, which I had set up solidly upon a frame of
well-connected woodwork. [1] Over this there lay a crust of plaster,
about the eighth of a cubit in thickness, carefully modelled for the
flesh of the Colossus. Lastly, I prepared a great number of moulds in
separate pieces to compose the figure, intending to dovetail them
together in accordance with the rules of art; and this task involved no
difficulty.
I will not here omit to relate something which may serve to give a
notion of the size of this great work, and is at the same time highly
comic. It must first be mentioned that I had forbidden all the men who
lived at my cost to bring light women into my house or anywhere within
the castle precincts. Upon this point of discipline I was extremely
strict. Now may lad Ascanio loved a very handsome girl, who returned his
passion. One day she gave her mother the slip, and came to see Ascanio
at night. Finding that she would not take her leave, and being driven to
his wits’ ends to conceal her, like a person of resources, he hit at
last upon the plan of installing her inside the statue. There, in the
head itself, he made her up a place to sleep in; this lodging she
occupied some time, and he used to bring her forth at whiles with
secrecy at night. I meanwhile having brought this part of the Colossus
almost to completion, left it alone, and indulged my vanity a bit by
exposing it to sight; it could, indeed be seen by more than half Paris.
The neighbours, therefore, took to climbing their house-roofs, and
crowds came on purpose to enjoy the spectacle. Now there was a legend in
the city that my castle had from olden times been haunted by a spirit,
though I never noticed anything to confirm this belief; and folk in
Paris called it popularly by the name of Lemmonio Boreo. [2] The girl,
while she sojourned in the statue’s head, could not prevent some of her
movements to and fro from being perceptible through its eye-holes; this
made stupid people say that the ghost had got into the body of the
figure, and was setting its eyes in motion, and its mouth, as though it
were about to talk. Many of them went away in terror; others, more
incredulous, came to observe the phenomenon, and when they were unable
to deny the flashing of the statue’s eyes, they too declared their
credence in a spirit--not guessing that there was a spirit there, and
sound young flesh to boot.
Note 1. This was what he called the Colossus above, p. 310. He meant it
for the fountain of Fontainebleau. See p. 295.
Note 2. Properly, 'Le Moine Bourru,' the ghost of a monk dressed in
drugget ('bure'). Le Petit Nesle had a bad reputation on account of the
murders said to have been committed there in the fourteenth century by
Queen Jeanne, wife of Philip V.
XLIII
ALL this while I was engaged in putting my door together, with its
several appurtenances. As it is no part of my purpose to include in this
autobiography such things as annalists record, I have omitted the coming
of the Emperor with his great host, and the King’s mustering of his
whole army. [1] At the time when these events took place, his Majesty
sought my advice with regard to the instantaneous fortification of
Paris. He came on purpose to my house, and took me all round the city;
and when he found that I was prepared to fortify the town with
expedition on a sound plan, he gave express orders that all my
suggestions should be carried out. His Admiral was directed to command
the citizens to obey me under pain of his displeasure.
Now the Admiral had been appointed through Madame d’Etampes’ influence
rather than from any proof of his ability, for he was a man of little
talent. He bore the name of M. d’Annebault, which in our tongue is
Monsignor d’Aniballe; but the French pronounce it so that they usually
made it sound like Monsignore Asino Bue. [2] This animal then referred
to Madame d’Etampes for advice upon the matter, and she ordered him to
summon Girolamo Bellarmato without loss of time. [3] He was an engineer
from Siena, at that time in Dieppe, which is rather more than a day’s
journey distant from the capital. He came at once, and set the work of
fortification going on a very tedious method, which made me throw the
job up. If the Emperor had pushed forward at this time, he might easily
have taken Paris. People indeed said that, when a treaty of peace was
afterwards concluded, Madame d’Etampes, who took more part in it than
anybody else, betrayed the King. [4] I shall pass this matter over
without further words, since it has nothing to do with the plan of my
'Memoirs.' Meanwhile, I worked diligently at the door, and finished the
vase, together with two others of middling size, which I made of my own
silver. At the end of those great troubles, the King came to take his
ease awhile in Paris.
That accursed woman seemed born to be the ruin of the world. I ought
therefore to think myself of some account, seeing she held me for her
mortal enemy. Happening to speak one day with the good King about my
matters, she abused me to such an extent that he swore, in order to
appease her, he would take no more heed of me thenceforward than if he
had never set eyes upon my face. These words were immediately brought me
by a page of Cardinal Ferrara, called Il Villa, who said he had heard
the King utter them. I was infuriated to such a pitch that I dashed my
tools across the room and all the things I was at work on, made my
arrangements to quit France, and went upon the spot to find the King.
When he had dined, I was shown into a room where I found his Majesty in
the company of a very few persons. After I had paid him the respects due
to kings, he bowed his head with a gracious smile. This revived hope in
me; so I drew nearer to his Majesty, for they were showing him some
things in my own line of art; and after we had talked awhile about such
matters, he asked if I had anything worth seeing at my house, and next
inquired when I should like him to come. I replied that I had some
pieces ready to show his Majesty, if he pleased, at once. He told me to
go home and he would come immediately.
Note 1. Toward the end of August 1544, the Imperial army advanced as far
as Epernay, within twenty leagues of Paris.
Note 2. 'I. e.,' ass-ox, 'Ane-et-bo.'
Note 3. Girolamo Bellarmati, a learned mathematicians and military
architect, banished from Siena for political reasons. He designed the
harbour of Havre.
Note 4. There is indeed good reason to believe that the King’s mistress,
in her jealousy of the Dauphin and Diane de Poitiers, played false, and
enabled the Imperialists to advance beyond Epernay.
XLIV
I WENT accordingly, and waited for the good King’s visit, who, it seems,
had gone meanwhile to take leave of Madame d’Etampes. She asked whither
he was bound, adding that she would accompany him; but when he informed
her, she told him that she would not go, and begged him as a special
favour not to go himself that day. She had to return to the charge more
than twice before she shook the King’s determination; however, he did
not come to visit me that day. Next morning I went to his Majesty at the
same hour; and no sooner had he caught sight of me, than he swore it was
his intention to come to me upon the spot. Going then, according to his
wont, to take leave of his dear Madame d’Etampes, this lady saw that all
her influence had not been able to divert him from his purpose; so she
began with that biting tongue of hers to say the worst of me that could
be insinuated against a deadly enemy of this most worthy crown of
France. The good King appeased her by replying that the sole object of
his visit was to administer such a scolding as should make me tremble in
my shoes. This he swore to do upon his honour. Then he came to my house,
and I conducted him through certain rooms upon the basement, where I had
put the whole of my great door together. Upon beholding it, the King was
struck with stupefaction, and quite lost his cue for reprimanding me, as
he had promised Madame d’Etampes. Still he did not choose to go away
without finding some opportunity for scolding; so he began in this wise:
“There is one most important matter, Benvenuto, which men of your sort,
though full of talent, ought always to bear in mind; it is that you
cannot bring your great gifts to light by your own strength alone; you
show your greatness only through the opportunities we give you. Now you
ought to be a little more submissive, not so arrogant and headstrong. I
remember that I gave you express orders to make me twelve silver
statues; and this was all I wanted. You have chosen to execute a
salt-cellar, and vases and busts and doors, and a heap of other things,
which quite confound me, when I consider how you have neglected my
wishes and worked for the fulfillment of your own. If you mean to go on
in this way, I shall presently let you understand what is my own method
of procedure when I choose to have things done in my own way. I tell
you, therefore, plainly: do your utmost to obey my commands; for if you
stick to your own fancies, you will run your head against a wall.” While
he was uttering these words, his lords in waiting hung upon the King’s
lips, seeing him shake his head, frown, and gesticulate, now with one
hand and now with the other. The whole company of attendants, therefore,
quaked with fear for me; but I stood firm, and let no breath of fear
pass over me.
XLV
WHEN he had wound up this sermon, agreed upon beforehand with his
darling Madame d’Etampes, I bent one leg upon the ground, and kissed his
coat above the knee. Then I began my speech as follows: “Sacred Majesty,
I admit that all that you have said is true. Only, in reply, I protest
that my heart has ever been, by day and night, with all my vital forces,
bent on serving you and executing your commands. If it appears to your
Majesty that my actions contradict these words, let your Majesty be sure
that Benvenuto was not at fault, but rather possibly my evil fate or
adverse fortune, which has made me unworthy to serve the most admirable
prince who ever blessed this earth. Therefore I crave your pardon. I was
under the impression, however, that your Majesty had given me silver for
one statue only; having no more at my disposal, I could not execute
others; so, with the surplus which remained for use, I made this vase,
to show your Majesty the grand style of the ancients. Perhaps you never
had seen anything of the sort before. As for the salt-cellar, I thought,
if my memory does not betray me, that your Majesty on one occasion
ordered me to make it of your own accord. The conversation falling upon
something of the kind which had been brought for your inspection, I
showed you a model made by me in Italy; you, following the impulse of
your own mind only, had a thousand golden ducats told out for me to
execute the piece withal, thanking me in addition for my hint; and what
is more, I seem to remember that you commended me highly when it was
completed. As regards the door, it was my impression that, after we had
chanced to speak about it at some time or other, your Majesty gave
orders to your chief secretary, M. Villerois, from whom the order passed
to M. de Marmagne and M. de la Fa, to this effect, that all these
gentlemen should keep me going at the work, and see that I obtained the
necessary funds. Without such commission I should certainly not have
been able to advance so great an undertaking on my own resources. As for
the bronze heads, the pedestal of Jupiter and other such-like things, I
will begin by saying that I cast those heads upon my own account, in
order to become acquainted with French clays, of which, as a foreigner,
I had no previous knowledge whatsoever. Unless I had made the
experiment, I could not have set about casting those large works. Now,
touching the pedestals, I have to say that I made them because I judged
them necessary to the statues. Consequently, in all that I have done, I
meant to act for the best, and at no point to swerve from your Majesty’s
expressed wishes. It is indeed true that I set that huge Colossus up to
satisfy my own desire, paying for it from my own purse, even to the
point which it has reached, because I thought that, you being the great
King you are, and I the trifling artist that I am, it was my duty to
erect for your glory and my own a statue, the like of which the ancients
never saw. Now, at the last, having been taught that God is not inclined
to make me worthy of so glorious a service, I beseech your Majesty,
instead of the noble recompense you had in mind to give me for my
labours, bestow upon me only one small trifle of your favour, and
therewith the leave to quit your kingdom. At this instant, if you
condescend to my request, I shall return to Italy, always thanking God
and your Majesty for the happy hours which I have passed in serving you.”
XLVI
THE KING stretched forth his own hands and raised me very graciously.
Then he told me that I ought to continue in his service, and that all
that I had done was right and pleasing to him. Turning to the lords in
his company, he spoke these words precisely: “I verily believe that a
finer door could not be made for Paradise itself.” When he had ceased
speaking, although his speech had been entirely in my favour, I again
thanked him respectfully, repeating, however, my request for leave to
travel; for the heat of my indignation had not yet cooled down. His
Majesty, feeling that I set too little store upon his unwonted and
extraordinary condescension, commanded me with a great and terrible
voice to hold my tongue, unless I wanted to incur his wrath; afterwards
he added that he would drown me in gold, and that he gave me the leave I
asked; and over and above the works he had commissioned, [1] he was very
well satisfied with what I had done on my account in the interval; I
should never henceforth have any quarrels with him, because he knew my
character; and for my part, I too ought to study the temper of his
Majesty, as my duty required. I answered that I thanked God and his
Majesty for everything; then I asked him to come and see how far I had
advanced the Great Colossus. So he came to my house, and I had the
statue uncovered; he admired it extremely, and gave orders to his
secretary to pay me all the money I had spent upon it, be the sum what
it might, provided I wrote the bill out in my own hand. Then he departed
saying: “Adieu, mon ami,” which is a phrase not often used by kings.
Note 1. The MSS. in this phrase vary, and the meaning is not quite
clear. According to one reading, the sense would be: “Though the works
he had commissioned were not yet begun.” But this involves an awkward
use of the word 'dipoi.'
XLVII
AFTER returning to his palace, he called to mind the words I had spoken
in our previous interview, some of which were so excessively humble, and
others so proud and haughty, that they caused him no small irritation.
He repeated a few of them in the presence of Madame d’Etampes and
Monsignor di San Polo, a great baron of France. [1] This man had always
professed much friendship for me in the past, and certainly, on that
occasion, he showed his good-will, after the French fashion, with great
cleverness. It happened thus: the King in the course of a long
conversation complained that the Cardinal of Ferrara, to whose care he
had entrusted me, never gave a thought to my affairs; so far as he was
concerned, I might have decamped from the realm; therefore he must
certainly arrange for committing me to some one who would appreciate me
better, because he did not want to run a farther risk of losing me. At
these words Monsieur de Saint Paul expressed his willingness to
undertake the charge, saying that if the King appointed him my guardian,
he would act so that I should never have the chance to leave the
kingdom. The King replied that he was very well satisfied, if only Saint
Paul would explain the way in which he meant to manage me. Madame sat by
with an air of sullen irritation and Saint Paul stood on his dignity,
declining to answer the King’s question. When the King repeated it, he
said, to curry favour with Madame d’Etampes: “I would hang that
Benvenuto of yours by the neck, and thus you would keep him for ever in
your kingdom.” She broke into a fit of laughter, protesting that I
richly deserved it. The King, to keep them company, began to laugh, and
said he had no objection to Saint Paul hanging me, if he could first
produce my equal in the arts; and although I had not earned such a fate,
he gave him full liberty and license. In this way that day ended, and I
came off safe and sound, for which may God be praised and thanked.
Note 1. Francois de Bourbon, Comte de Saint Paul, one of the chief
companions in arms and captains of Francois I.
XLVIII
THE KING had now made peace with the Emperor, but not with the English,
and these devils were keeping us in constant agitation. [1] His Majesty
had therefore other things than pleasure to attend to. He ordered Piero
Strozzi to go with ships of war into the English waters; but this was a
very difficult undertaking, even for that great commander, without a
paragon in his times in the art of war, and also without a paragon in
his misfortunes. Several months passed without my receiving money or
commissions; accordingly, I dismissed my work people with the exception
of the two Italians, whom I set to making two big vases out of my own
silver; for these men could not work in bronze. After they had finished
these, I took them to a city which belonged to the Queen of Navarre; it
is called Argentana, and is distant several days’ journey from Paris.
[2] On arriving at this place, I found that the King was indisposed; and
the Cardinal of Ferrara told his Majesty that I was come. He made no
answer, which obliged me to stay several days kicking my heels. Of a
truth, I never was more uncomfortable in my life; but at last I
presented myself one evening and offered the two vases for the King’s
inspection. He was excessively delighted, and when I saw him in good
homier, I begged his Majesty to grant me the favour of permitting me to
travel into Italy; I would leave the seven months of my salary which
were due, and his Majesty might condescend to pay me when I required
money for my return journey. I entreated him to grant this petition,
seeing that the times were more for fighting than for making statues;
moreover, his Majesty had allowed a similar license to Bologna the
painter, wherefore I humbly begged him to concede the same to me. While
I was uttering these words the King kept gazing intently on the vases,
and from time to time shot a terrible glance at me; nevertheless, I went
on praying to the best of my ability that he would favour my petition.
All of a sudden he rose angrily from his seat, and said to me in
Italian: “Benvenuto, you are a great fool. Take these vases back to
Paris, for I want to have them gilt.” Without making any other answer he
then departed.
I went up to the Cardinal of Ferrara, who was present, and besought him,
since he had already conferred upon me the great benefit of freeing me
from prison in Rome, with many others besides, to do me this one favour
more of procuring for me leave to travel into Italy. He answered that he
should be very glad to do his best to gratify me in this matter; I might
leave it without farther thought to him, and even if I chose, might set
off at once, because he would act for the best in my interest with the
King. I told the Cardinal that since I was aware his Majesty had put me
under the protection of his most reverend lordship, if he gave me leave,
I felt ready to depart, and promised to return upon the smallest hint
from his reverence. The Cardinal then bade me go back to Paris and wait
there eight days, during which time he would procure the King’s license
for me; if his Majesty refused to let me go, he would without fail
inform me; but if I received no letters, that would be a sign that I
might set off with an easy mind.
Note 1. The peace of Crepy was concluded September 18, 1544. The English
had taken Boulogne four days earlier. Peace between France and England
was not concluded till June 7, 1546.
Note 2. Argentan, the city of the Duchy of Alencon. Margaret, it will be
remembered, had been first married to the Duc d’Alencon, and after his
death retained his fiefs.
XLIX
I OBEYED the Cardinal, and returned to Paris, where I made excellent
cases for my three silver vases, After the lapse of twenty days, I began
my preparations, and packed the three vases upon a mule. This animal had
been lent me for the journey to Lyons by the Bishop of Pavia, who was
now once more installed in my castle.
Then I departed in my evil hour, together with Signor Ippolito Gonzaga,
at that time in the pay of the King, and also in the service of Count
Galeotto della Mirandola. Some other gentlemen of the said count went
with us, as well as Lionardo Tedaldi, our fellow-citizen of Florence.
I made Ascanio and Pagolo guardians of my castle and all my property,
including two little vases which were only just begun; those I left
behind in order that the two young men might not be idle. I had lived
very handsomely in Paris, and therefore there was a large amount of
costly household furniture: the whole value of these effects exceeded
1500 crowns. I bade Ascanio remember what great benefits I had bestowed
upon him, and that up to the present he had been a mere thoughtless lad;
the time was now come for him to show the prudence of a man; therefore I
thought fit to leave him in the custody of all my goods, as also of my
honour. If he had the least thing to complain of from those brutes of
Frenchmen, he was to let me hear at once, because I would take post and
fly from any place in which I found myself, not only to discharge the
great obligations under which I lay to that good King, but also to
defend my honour. Ascanio replied with the tears of a thief and
hypocrite: “I have never known a father better than you are, and all
things which a good son is bound to perform for a good father will I
ever do for you.” So then I took my departure, attended by a servant and
a little French lad.
It was just past noon, when some of the King’s treasurers, by no means
friends of mine, made a visit to my castle. The rascally fellows began
by saying that I had gone off with the King’s silver, and told Messer
Guido and the Bishop of Pavia to send at once off after his Majesty’s
vases; if not, they would themselves despatch a messenger to get them
back, and do me some great mischief. The Bishop and Messer Guido were
much more frightened than was necessary; so they sent that traitor
Ascanio by the post off on the spot. He made his appearance before me
about midnight. I had not been able to sleep, and kept revolving sad
thoughts to the following effect: “In whose hands have I left my
property, my castle? Oh, what a fate is this of mine, which forces me to
take this journey! May God grant only that the Cardinal is not of one
mind with Madame d’Etampes, who has nothing else so much at heart as to
make me lose the grace of that good King.”
L
WHILE I was thus dismally debating with myself, I heard Ascanio calling
me. On the instant I jumped out of bed, and asked if he brought good or
evil tidings. The knave answered: “They are good news I bring; but you
must only send back those three vases, for the rascally treasurers keep
shouting, ‘Stop thief!’ So the Bishop and Messer Guido say that you must
absolutely send them back. For the rest you need have no anxiety, but
may pursue your journey with a light heart.” I handed over the vases
immediately, two of them being my own property, together with the silver
and much else besides. [1] I had meant to take them to the Cardinal of
Ferrara’s abbey at Lyons; for though people accused me of wanting to
carry them into Italy, everybody knows quite well that it is impossible
to export money, gold, or silver from France without special license.
Consider, therefore, whether I could have crossed the frontier with
those three great vases, which, together with their cases, were a whole
mule’s burden! It is certainly true that, since these articles were of
great value and the highest beauty, I felt uneasiness in case the King
should die, and I had lately left him in a very bad state of health;
therefore I said to myself: “If such an accident should happen, having
these things in the keeping of the Cardinal, I shall not lose them.”
Well, to cut the story short, I sent back the mule with the vases, and
other things of importance; then, upon the following morning, I
travelled forward with the company I have already mentioned, nor could
I, through the whole journey, refrain from sighing and weeping.
Sometimes, however, I consoled myself with God by saying: “Lord God,
before whose eyes the truth lies open! Thou knowest that my object in
this journey is only to carry alms to six poor miserable virgins and
their mother, my own sister. They have indeed their father, but he is
very old, and gains nothing by his trade; I fear, therefore, lest they
might too easily take to a bad course of life. Since, then, I am
performing a true act of piety, I look to Thy Majesty for aid and
counsel.” This was all the recreation I enjoyed upon my forward journey.
We were one day distant from Lyons, and it was close upon the hour of
twenty-two, when the heavens began to thunder with sharp rattling claps,
although the sky was quite clear at the time. [2] I was riding a
cross-bow shot before my comrades. After the thunder the heavens made a
noise so great and horrible that I thought the last day had come; so I
reined in for a moment, while a shower of hail began to fall without a
drop of water. A first hail was somewhat larger than pellets from a
popgun, and when these struck me, they hurt considerably. Little by
little it increased in size, until the stones might be compared to balls
from a crossbow. My horse became restive with fright; so I wheeled
round, and returned at a gallop to where I found my comrades taking
refuge in a fir-wood. The hail now grew to the size of big lemons. I
began to sing a Miserere; and while I was devoutly uttering this psalm
to God, there fell a stone so huge that it smashed the thick branches of
the pine under which I had retired for safety. Another of the hailstones
hit my horse upon the head, and almost stunned him; one struck me also,
but not directly, else it would have killed me. In like manner, poor old
Lionardo Tedaldi, who like me was kneeling on the ground, received so
shrewd a blow that he fell grovelling upon all fours. When I saw that
the fir bough offered no protection, and that I ought to act as well as
to intone my Misereres, I began at once to wrap my mantle round my head.
At the same time I cried to Lionardo, who was shrieking for succour,
“Jesus! Jesus!” that Jesus would help him if he helped himself. I had
more trouble in looking after this man’s safety than my own. The storm
raged for some while, but at last it stopped; and we, who were pounded
black and blue, scrambled as well as we could upon our horses. Pursuing
the way to our lodging for the night, we showed our scratches and
bruises to each other; but about a mile farther on we came upon a scene
of devastation which surpassed what we had suffered, and defies
description. All the trees were stripped of their leaves and shattered;
the beasts in the field lay dead; many of the herdsmen had also been
killed; we observed large quantities of hailstones which could not have
been grasped with two hands. Feeling then that we had come well out of a
great peril, we acknowledged that our prayers to God and Misereres had
helped us more than we could have helped ourselves. Returning thanks to
God, therefore, we entered Lyons in the course of the next day, and
tarried there eight days. At the end of this time, being refreshed in
strength and spirits, we resumed our journey, and passed the mountains
without mishap. On the other side I bought a little pony, because the
baggage which I carried had somewhat overtired my horses.
Note 1. 'Con l’argento e ogni cosal.' These words refer perhaps to the
vases: 'the silver and everything pertaining to them.'
Note 2. 'E l’aria era bianchissima.' Perhaps this ought to be: 'and the
air blazed with lightnings.' Goethe takes it as I do above.
LI
AFTER we had been one day in Italy, the Count Galeotto della Mirandola
joined us. He was travelling by post; and stopping where we were, he
told me that I had done wrong to leave France; I ought not to journey
forwards, for, if I returned at once, my affairs would be more
prosperous than ever. On the other hand, if I persisted in my course, I
was giving the game up to my enemies, and furnishing them with
opportunities to do me mischief. By returning I might put a stop to
their intrigues; and those in whom I placed the most confidence were
just the men who played most traitorously. He would not say more than
that he knew very well all about it; and, indeed, the Cardinal of
Ferrara had now conspired with the two rogues I left in charge of all my
business. Having repeated over and over again that I ought absolutely to
turn back, he went onward with the post, while I, being influenced by my
companions, could not make my mind up to return. My heart was sorely
torn asunder, at one moment by the desire to reach Florence as quickly
as I could, and at another by the conviction that I ought to regain
France. At last, in order to end the fever of this irresolution, I
determined to take the post for Florence. I could not make arrangements
with the first postmaster, but persisted in my purpose to press forward
and endure an anxious life at Florence. 1
I parted company with Signor Ippolito Gonzaga, who took the route for
Mirandola, while I diverged upon the road to Parma and Piacenza. In the
latter city I met Duke Pier Luigi upon the street, who stared me in the
face, and recognised me. [2] Since I knew him to have been the sole
cause of my imprisonment in the castle of St. Angelo, the sight of him
made my blood boil. Yet being unable to escape from the man, I decided
to pay him my respects, and arrived just after he had risen from table
in the company of the Landi, who afterwards murdered him. On my
appearance he received me with unbounded marks of esteem and affection,
among which he took occasion to remark to the gentlemen present that I
was the first artist of the world in my own line, and that I had been
for a long while in prison at Rome. Then he turned to me and said: “My
Benvenuto, I was deeply grieved for your misfortune, and knew well that
you were innocent, but could not do anything to help you, In short, it
was my father, who chose to gratify some enemies of yours, from whom,
moreover, he heard that you had spoken ill of him. I am convinced this
was not true, and indeed I was heartily sorry for your troubles.” These
words he kept piling up and repeating until he seemed to be begging my
pardon. Afterwards he inquired about the work I had been doing for his
Most Christian Majesty; and on my furnishing him with details, he
listened as attentively and graciously as possible. Then he asked if I
had a mind to serve him. To this I replied that my honour would not
allow me to do so; but that if I had completed those extensive works
begun for the King, I should be disposed to quit any great prince merely
to enter his Excellency’s service.
Hereby it may be seen how the power and goodness of God never leave
unpunished any sort or quality of men who act unjustly toward the
innocent. This man did what was equivalent to begging my pardon in the
presence of those very persons who subsequently took revenge on him for
me and many others whom he had massacred. Let then no prince, however
great he be, laugh at God’s justice, in the way that many whom I know
are doing, and who have cruelly maltreated me, as I shall relate at the
proper time. I do not write these things in any worldly spirit of
boasting, but only to return thanks to God, my deliverer in so many
trials. In those too which daily assail me, I always carry my complaint
to Him, and call on Him to be my defender. On all occasions, after I
have done my best to aid myself; if I lose courage and my feeble forces
fail, then is the great might of God manifested, which descends
unexpectedly on those who wrongfully injure their neighbours, or neglect
the grave and honourable charge they have received from Him.
Note 1. The text here is obscure. The words 'venire a tribulare' might
mean “to get, by any means, however inconvenient, to Florence.” I have
chosen another interpretation in the text, as more consonant with the
Italian idiom. For Cellini’s use of 'tribulare' or 'tribolare,' see lib.
i. 112, 'andando a tribolare la vita tua.'
Note 2. Pier Luigi Farnese was not formally invested with the Duchy of
Parma and Piacenza until September 1545. Cellini, therefore, gives him
this title as Duke of Castro. He was assassinated on September 10, 1547.
The Landi, among other noblemen of the duchy, took part in a conspiracy
which had its ground in Pier Luigi’s political errors no less than in
his intolerable misgovernment and infamous private life.
LII
WHEN I returned to my inn, I found that the Duke had sent me abundance
to eat and drink of very excellent quality. I made a hearty meal, then
mounted and rode toward Florence. There I found my sister with six
daughters, the eldest of whom was marriageable and the youngest still at
nurse. Her husband, by reason of divers circumstances in the city, had
lost employment from his trade. I had sent gems and French jewellery,
more than a year earlier, to the amount of about two thousand ducats,
and now brought with me the same wares to the value of about one
thousand crowns. I discovered that, whereas I made them an allowance of
four golden crowns a month, they always drew considerable sums from the
current sale of these articles. My brother-in-law was such an honest
fellow, that, fearing to give me cause for anger, he had pawned nearly
everything he possessed, and was devoured by interest, in his anxiety to
leave my monies untouched. It seems that my allowance, made by way of
charity, did not suffice for the needs of the family. When then I found
him so honest in his dealings, I felt inclined to raise his pension; and
it was my intention, before leaving Florence, to make some arrangement
for all of his daughters. 1
Note 1. Though this paragraph is confused, the meaning seems to be that
Cellini’s brother-in-law did not use the money which accrued from the
sale of jewellery, and got into debt, because his allowance was
inadequate, and he was out of work.]
LIII
THE DUKE OF FLORENCE at this time, which was the month of August 1545,
had retired to Poggio a Cajano, ten miles distant from Florence. Thither
then I went to pay him my respects, with the sole object of acting as
duty required, first because I was a Florentine, and next because my
forefathers had always been adherents of the Medicean party, and I
yielded to none of them in affection for this Duke Cosimo. As I have
said, then, I rode to Poggio with the sole object of paying my respects,
and with no intention of accepting service under him, as God, who does
all things well, did then appoint for me.
When I was introduced, the Duke received me very kindly; then he and the
Duchess put questions concerning the works which I had executed for the
King. [1] I answered willingly and in detail. After listening to my
story, he answered that he had heard as much, and that I spoke the
truth. Then he assumed a tone of sympathy, and added: “How small a
recompense for such great and noble masterpieces! Friend Benvenuto, if
you feel inclined to execute something for me too, I am ready to pay you
far better than that King of yours had done, for whom your excellent
nature prompts you to speak so gratefully.” When I understood his drift,
I described the deep obligations under which I lay to his Majesty, who
first obtained my liberation from that iniquitous prison, and afterwards
supplied me with the means of carrying out more admirable works than any
artist of my quality had ever had the chance to do. While I was thus
speaking, my lord the Duke writhed on his chair, and seemed as though he
could not bear to hear me to the end. Then, when I had concluded, he
rejoined: “If you are disposed to work for me, I will treat you in a way
that will astonish you, provided the fruits of your labours give me
satisfaction, of which I have no doubt.” I, poor unhappy mortal, burning
with desire to show the noble school [2] of Florence that, after leaving
her in youth, I had practised other branches of the art than she
imagined, gave answer to the Duke that I would willingly erect for him
in marble or in bronze a mighty statue on his fine piazza. He replied
that, for a first essay, he should like me to produce a Perseus; he had
long set his heart on having such a monument, and he begged me to begin
a model for the same. [3] I very gladly set myself to the task, and in a
few weeks I finished my model, which was about a cubit high, in yellow
wax and very delicately finished in all its details. I had made it with
the most thorough study and art. 4
The Duke returned to Florence, but several days passed before I had an
opportunity of showing my model. It seemed indeed as though he had never
set eyes on me or spoken with me, and this caused me to augur ill of my
future dealings with his Excellency. Later on, however, one day after
dinner, I took it to his wardrobe, where he came to inspect it with the
Duchess and a few gentlemen of the court. No sooner had he seen it than
he expressed much pleasure, and extolled it to the skies; wherefrom I
gathered some hope that he might really be a connoisseur of art. After
having well considered it for some time, always with greater
satisfaction, he began as follows: “If you could only execute this
little model, Benvenuto, with the same perfection on a large scale, it
would be the finest piece in the piazza.” I replied: “Most excellent my
lord, upon the piazza are now standing works by the great Donatello and
the incomparable Michel Angelo, the two greatest men who have ever lived
since the days of the ancients. [5] But since your Excellence encourages
my model with such praise, I feel the heart to execute it at least
thrice as well in bronze.” [6] No slight dispute arose upon this
declaration; the Duke protesting that he understood these matters
perfectly, and was quite aware what could be done. I rejoined that my
achievements would resolve his dubitations and debates; I was absolutely
sure of being able to perform far more than I had promised for his
Excellency, but that he must give me means for carrying my work out,
else I could not fulfil my undertaking. In return for this his
Excellency bade me formulate my demands in a petition, detailing all my
requirements; he would see them liberally attended to.
It is certain that if I had been cunning enough to secure by contract
all I wanted for my work, I should not have incurred the great troubles
which came upon me through my own fault. But he showed the strongest
desire to have the work done, and the most perfect willingness to
arrange preliminaries. I therefore, not discerning that he was more a
merchant than a duke, dealt very frankly with his Excellency, just as if
I had to do with a prince, and not with a commercial man. I sent in my
petition, to which he replied in large and ample terms. The memorandum
ran as follows: “Most rare and excellent my patron, petitions of any
validity and compacts between us of any value do not rest upon words or
writings; the whole point is that I should succeed in my work according
to my promise; and if I so succeed, I feel convinced that your most
illustrious Excellency will very well remember what you have engaged to
do for me.” This language so charmed the Duke both with my ways of
acting and of speaking that he and the Duchess began to treat me with
extraordinary marks of favour.
Note 1. This Duchess was Eleonora di Toledo, well known to us through
Bronzino’s portrait.
Note 2. This school was the Collegio dei Maestri di Belle Arti in
Florence, who had hitherto known of Cellini mainly as a goldsmith.
Note 3. Cosimo chose the subject of Perseus because it symbolised his
own victory over the Gorgon of tyrannicide and Republican partisanship.
Donatello’s Judith, symbolising justifiable regicide, and Michel
Angelo’s David, symbolising the might of innocent right against an
overbearing usurper, already decorated the Florentine piazza. Until
lately, both of these masterpieces stood together there with the Perseus
of Cellini.
Note 4. This is probably the precious model now existing in the Bargello
Palace at Florence, in many points more interesting than the completed
bronze statue under the Loggia de’ Lanzi.
Note 5. Donatello’s Judith and Holofernes; Michel Angelo’s David.
Note 6. It is difficult to give the exact sense of 'pertanto' and
'perche' in the text, but I think the drift of the sentence is rendered
above.
LIV
BEING now inflamed with a great desire to begin working, I told his
Excellency that I had need of a house where I could install myself and
erect furnaces, in order to commence operations in clay and bronze, and
also, according to their separate requirements, in gold and silver. I
knew that he was well aware how thoroughly I could serve him in those
several branches, and I required some dwelling fitted for my business.
In order that his Excellency might perceive how earnestly I wished to
work for him, I had already chosen a convenient house, in a quarter much
to my liking. [1] As I did not want to trench upon his Excellency for
money or anything of that sort, I had brought with me from France two
jewels, with which I begged him to purchase me the house, and to keep
them until I earned it with my labour. These jewels were excellently
executed by my workmen, after my own designs. When he had inspected them
with minute attention, he uttered these spirited words, which clothed my
soul with a false hope: “Take back your jewels, Benvenuto! I want you,
and not them; you shall have your house free of charges.” After this, he
signed a rescript underneath the petition I had drawn up, and which I
have always preserved among my papers. The rescript ran as follows:
'“Let the house be seen to, and who is the vendor, and at what price;
for we wish to comply with Benvenuto’s request.”' [2] I naturally
thought that this would secure me in possession of the house; being over
and above convinced that my performances must far exceed what I promised. |
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