The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini Part 8

Note 3. That is, the Pantheon.

Note 4. Bandini bears a distinguished name in Florentine annals. He served Duke Alessandro in affairs of much importance; but afterwards he betrayed the interests of his master, Duke Cosimo, in an emba.s.sy to Charles V in 1543. It seems that he had then been playing into the hands of Filippo Strozzi, for which offence he pa.s.sed fifteen years in a dungeon. See Varchi and Segni; also Montazio?s 'Prigionieri del Mastio di Volterra,' cap. vii.

Note 5. This was the Pope?s hint to Cellini that he was aware of the murder he had just committed.

LII

THE POPE had sent me all those precious stones, except the diamond, which was p.a.w.ned to certain Genoese bankers for some pressing need he had of money. The rest were in my custody, together with a model of the diamond. I had five excellent journeymen, and in addition to the great piece, I was engaged on several jobs; so that my shop contained property of much value in jewels, gems, and gold and silver. I kept a s.h.a.ggy dog, very big and handsome, which Duke Alessandro gave me; the beast was capital as a retriever, since he brought me every sort of birds and game I shot, but he also served most admirably for a watchdog. It happened, as was natural at the age of twenty-nine, that I had taken into my service a girl of great beauty and grace, whom I used as a model in my art, and who was also complaisant of her personal favours to me. Such being the case, I occupied an apartment far away from my workmen?s rooms, as well as from the shop; and this communicated by a little dark pa.s.sage with the maid?s bedroom. I used frequently to pa.s.s the night with her; and though I sleep as lightly as ever yet did man upon this earth, yet, after indulgence in s.e.xual pleasure, my slumber is sometimes very deep and heavy.

So it chanced one night: for I must say that a thief, under the pretext of being a goldsmith, had spied on me, and cast his eyes upon the precious stones, and made a plan to steal them. Well, then, this fellow broke into the shop, where he found a quant.i.ty of little things in gold and silver. He was engaged in bursting open certain boxes to get at the jewels he had noticed, when my dog jumped upon him, and put him to much trouble to defend himself with his sword. The dog, unable to grapple with an armed man, ran several times through the house, and rushed into the rooms of the journeymen, which had been left open because of the great heat. When he found they paid no heed to his loud barking, he dragged their bed-clothes off; and when they still heard nothing, he pulled first one and then another by the arm till he roused them, and, barking furiously, ran before to show them where he wanted them to go.

At last it became clear that they refused to follow; for the traitors, cross at being disturbed, threw stones and sticks at him; and this they could well do, for I had ordered them to keep all night a lamp alight there; and in the end they shut their rooms tight; so the dog, abandoning all hope of aid from such rascals, set out alone again on his adventure. He ran down, and not finding the thief in the shop, flew after him. When he got at him, he tore the cape off his back. It would have gone hard with the fellow had he not called for help to certain tailors, praying them for G.o.d?s sake to save him from a mad dog; and they, believing what he said, jumped out and drove the dog off with much trouble.

After sunrise my workmen went into the shop, and saw that it had been broken open and all the boxes smashed. They began to scream at the top of their voices: ?Ah, woe is me! Ah, woe is me!? The clamour woke me, and I rushed out in a panic. Appearing thus before them, they cried out: ?Alas to us! for we have been robbed by some one, who has broken and borne everything away!? These words wrought so forcibly upon my mind that I dared not go to my big chest and look if it still held the jewels of the Pope. So intense was the anxiety, that I seemed to lose my eyesight, and told them they themselves must unlock the chest, and see how many of the Pope?s gems were missing. The fellow were all of them in their shirts; and when, on opening the chest, they saw the precious stones and my work with them, they took heart of joy and shouted: ?There is no harm done; your piece and all the stones are here; but the thief has left us naked to the shirt, because last night, by reason of the burning heat, we took our clothes off in the shop and left them here.?

Recovering my senses, I thanked G.o.d, and said: ?Go and get yourselves new suits of clothes; I will pay when I hear at leisure how the whole thing happened.? What caused me the most pain, and made me lose my senses, and take fright-so contrary to my real nature-was the dread lest peradventure folk should fancy I had trumped a story of the robber up to steal the jewels. It had already been paid to Pope Clement by one of his most trusted servants, and by others, that is, by Francesco del Nero, Zana de? Biliotti his accountant, the Bishop of Vasona, and several such men: [1] ?Why, most blessed Father, do you confide gems of that vast value to a young fellow, who is all fire, more pa.s.sionate for arms than for his art, and not yet thirty years of age?? The Pope asked in answer if any one of them knew that I had done aught to justify such suspicions. Whereto Francesco del Nero, his treasurer, replied: [2] ?No, most blessed Father, because he has not as yet had an opportunity.

?Whereto the Pope rejoined: ?I regard him as a thoroughly honest man; and if I saw with my own eyes some crime he had committed, I should not believe it.? This was the man who [3] caused me the greatest torment, and who suddenly came up before my mind.

After telling the young men to provide themselves with fresh clothes, I took my piece, together with the gems, setting them as well as I could in their proper places, and went off at once with them to the Pope.

Francesco del Nero had already told him something of the trouble in my shop, and had put suspicions in his head. So then, taking the thing rather ill than otherwise, he shot a furious glance upon me, and cried haughtily: ?What have you come to do here? What is up?? ?Here are all your precious stones, and not one of them is missing.? At this the Pope?s face cleared, and he said: ?So then, you?re welcome.? I showed him the piece, and while he was inspecting it, I related to him the whole story of the thief and of my agony, and what had been my greatest trouble in the matter. During this speech, he oftentimes turned round to look me sharply in the eyes; and Francesco del Nero being also in the presence, this seemed to make him half sorry that he had not guessed the truth. At last, breaking into laughter at the long tale I was telling, he sent me off with these words: ?Go, and take heed to be an honest man, as indeed I know that you are.?

Note 1. Of these people, we can trace the Bishop of Vasona. He was Girolamo Schio or Schedo, a native of Vicenza, the confidential agent and confessor of Clement VII., who obtained the See of Vaison in the county of Avignon in 1523, and died at Rome in 1533. His successor in the bishopric was Tomaso Cortesi, the Datary, mentioned above.

Note 2. Varchi gives a very ugly account of this man, Francesco del Nero, who was nicknamed the 'Cra del Piccadiglio,' in his History of Florence, book iii. ?In the whole city of Florence there never was born, in my belief, a man of such irreligion or of such sordid avarice.?

Giovio confirms the statement.

Note 3. 'Questo fu quello che.' This may be neuter: 'This was the circ.u.mstance which.'

LIII

I WENT on working a.s.siduously at the b.u.t.ton, and at the same time laboured for the Mint, when certain pieces of false money got abroad in Rome, stamped with my own dies. They were brought at once to the Pope, who, hearing things against me, said to Giacopo Balducci, the Master of the Mint, ?Take every means in your power to find the criminal; for we are sure that Benvenuto is an honest fellow.? That traitor of a master, being in fact my enemy, replied: ?Would G.o.d, most blessed Father, that it may turn out as you say; for we have some proofs against him.? Upon this the Pope turned to the Governor of Rome, and bade him see he found the malefactor. During those days the Pope sent for me, and leading cautiously in conversation to the topic of the coins, asked me at the fitting moment: ?Benvenuto, should you have the heart to coin false money?? To this I replied that I thought I could do so better than all the rascals who gave their minds to such vile work; for fellows who practice lewd trades of that sort are not capable of earning money, nor are they men of much ability. I, on the contrary, with my poor wits could gain enough to keep me comfortably; for when I set dies for the Mint, each morning before dinner I put at least three crowns into my pocket; this was the customary payment for the dies, and the Master of the Mint bore me a grudge, because he would have liked to have them cheaper; so then, what I earned with G.o.d?s grace and the world?s, sufficed me, and by coining false money I should not have made so much.

The pope very well perceived my drift; and whereas he had formerly given orders that they should see I did not fly from Rome, he now told them to look well about and have no heed of me, seeing he was ill-disposed to anger me, and in this way run the risk of losing me. The officials who received these orders were certain clerks of the Camera, who made the proper search, as was their duty, and soon found the rogue. He was a stamper in the service of the Mint, named Cesare Macherone, and a Roman citizen. Together with this man they detected a metal-founder of the Mint. 1

Note 1. The word in Cellini is ovolatore di zecca.

LIV

ON that very day, as I was pa.s.sing through the Piazza Navona, and had my fine retriever with me, just when we came opposite the gate of the Bargello, my dog flew barking loudly inside the door upon a youth, who had been arrested at the suit of a man called Donnino (a goldsmith from Parma, and a former pupil of Caradosso), on the charge of having robbed him. The dog strove so violently to tear the fellow to pieces, that the constables were moved to pity. It so happened that he was pleading his own cause with boldness, and Donnino had not evidence enough to support the accusation; and what was more, one of the corporals of the guard, a Genoese, was a friend of the young man?s father. The upshot was that, what with the dog and with those other circ.u.mstances, they were on the point of releasing their prisoner. When I came up, the dog had lost all fear of sword or staves, and was flying once more at the young man; so they told me if I did not call the brute off they would kill him. I held him back as well as I was able; but just then the fellow, in the act of readjusting his cape, let fall some paper packets from the hood, which Donnino recognised as his property. I too recognised a little ring; whereupon I called out. ?This is the thief who broke into my shop and robbed it; and therefore my dog knows him;? then I loosed the dog, who flew again upon the robber. On this the fellow craved for mercy, promising to give back whatever he possessed of mine. When I had secured the dog, he proceeded to restore the gold and silver and the rings which he had stolen from me, and twenty-five crowns in addition. Then he cried once more to me for pity. I told him to make his peace with G.o.d, for I should do him neither good nor evil. So I returned to my business; and a few days afterwards, Cesare Macherone, the false coiner, was hanged in the Banchi opposite the Mint; his accomplice was sent to the galleys; the Genoese thief was hanged in the Campo di Fiore, while I remained in better repute as an honest man than I had enjoyed before.

LV

WHEN I had nearly finished my piece, there happened that terrible inundation which flooded the whole of Rome. [1] I waited to see what would happen; the day was well-nigh spent, for the clocks struck twenty-two and the water went on rising formidably. Now the front of my house and shop faced the Banchi, but the back was several yards higher, because it turned toward Monte Giordano; accordingly, bethinking me first of my own safety and in the next place of my honour, I filled my pockets with the jewels, and gave the gold-piece into the custody of my workmen, and then descended barefoot from the back-windows, and waded as well as I could until I reached Monte Cavallo. There I sought out Messer Giovanni Gaddi, clerk of the Camera, and Bastiano Veneziano, the painter. To the former I confided the precious stones, to keep in safety: he had the same regard for me as though I had been his brother.

A few days later, when the rage of the river was spent, I returned to my workshop, and finished the piece with such good fortune, through G.o.d?s grace and my own great industry, that it was held to be the finest masterpiece which had been ever seen in Rome. [2]

When then I took it to the Pope, he was insatiable in praising me, and said: ?Were I but a wealthy emperor, I would give my Benvenuto as much land as his eyes could survey; yet being nowadays but needy bankrupt potentates, we will at any rate give him bread enough to satisfy his modest wishes.? I let the Pope run on to the end of his rhodomontade, [3] and then asked him for a mace-bearer?s place which happened to be vacant. He replied that he would grant me something of far greater consequence. I begged his Holiness to bestow this little thing on me meanwhile by way of earnest. He began to laugh, and said he was willing, but that he did not wish me to serve, and that I must make some arrangement with the other mace-bearers to be exempted. He would allow them through me a certain favour, for which they had already pet.i.tioned, namely, the right of recovering their fees at law. This was accordingly done, and that mace-bearer?s office brought me in little less than 200 crowns a year. 4

Note 1. This took place on the 8th and 9th October, 1530.

Note 2. This famous masterpiece was preserved in the Castle of S. Angelo during the Papal Government of Rome. It was brought out on Christmas, Easter, and S. Peter?s days.

Note 3. 'Quella sua smania di parole.'

Note 4. Cellini received this post among the Mazzieri (who walked like beadles before the Pope) on April 14, 1531. He resigned it in favour of Pietro Cornaro of Venice in 1535.

LVI

I CONTINUED to work for the Pope, executing now one trifle and now another, when he commissioned me to design a chalice of exceeding richness. So I made both drawing and model for the piece. The latter was constructed of wood and wax. Instead of the usual top, I fashioned three figures of a fair size in the round; they represented Faith, Hope, and Charity. Corresponding to these, at the base of the cup, were three circular histories in bas-relief. One was the Nativity of Christ, the second the Resurrection, and the third S. Peter crucified head downwards; for thus I had received commission. While I had this work in hand, the Pope was often pleased to look at it; wherefore, observing that his Holiness had never thought again of giving me anything, and knowing that a post in the Piombo was vacant, I asked for this one evening. The good Pope, quite oblivious of his extravagances at the termination of the last piece, said to me: ?That post in the Piombo is worth more than 800 crowns a year, so that if I gave it you, you would spend your time in scratching your paunch, [1] and your magnificent handicraft would be lost, and I should bear the blame.? I replied at once as thus: ?Cats of a good breed mouse better when they are fat than starving; and likewise honest men who possess some talent, exercise it to far n.o.bler purport when they have the wherewithal to live abundantly; wherefore princes who provide such folk with competences, let your Holiness take notice, are watering the roots of genius; for genius and talent, at their birth, come into this world lean and scabby; and your Holiness should also know that I never asked for the place with the hope of getting it. Only too happy I to have that miserable post of mace-bearer. On the other I built but castles in the air. Your Holiness will do well, since you do not care to give it me, to bestow it on a man of talent who deserves it, and not upon some fat ignoramus who will spend his time scratching his paunch, if I may quote your holiness? own words. Follow the example of Pope Giulio?s ill.u.s.trious memory, who conferred an office of the same kind upon Bramante, that most admirable architect.?

Immediately on finishing this speech, I made my bow, and went off in a fury. Then Bastiano Veneziano the painter approached, and said: ?Most blessed Father, may your Holiness be willing to grant it to one who works a.s.siduously in the exercise of some talent; and as your Holiness knows that I am diligent in my art, I beg that I may be thought worthy of it.? The Pope replied: ?That devil Benvenuto will not brook rebuke. I was inclined to give it him, but it is not right to be so haughty with a Pope. Therefore I do not well know what I am to do.? The Bishop of Vasona then came up, and put in a word for Bastiano, saying: ?Most blessed Father, Benvenuto is but young; and a sword becomes him better than a friar?s frock. Let your Holiness give the place to this ingenious person Bastiano. Some time or other you will be able to bestow on Benvenuto a good thing, perhaps more suitable to him than this would be.? Then the Pope turning to Messer Bartolommeo Valori, told him: ?When next you meet Benvenuto, let him know from me that it was he who got that office in the Piombo for Bastiano the painter, and add that he may reckon on obtaining the next considerable place that falls; meanwhile let him look to his behaviour, and finish my commissions.? [2]

The following evening, two hours after sundown, I met Messer Bartolommeo Valori [3] at the corner of the Mint; he was preceded by two torches, and was going in haste to the Pope, who had sent for him. On my taking off my hat, he stopped and called me, and reported in the most friendly manner all the messages the Pope had sent me. I replied that I should complete my work with greater diligence and application than any I had yet attempted, but without the least hope of having any reward whatever from the Pope. Messer Bartolommeo reproved me, saying that this was not the way in which one ought to reply to the advances of a Pope. I answered that I should be mad to reply otherwise-mad if I based my hopes on such promises, being certain to get nothing. So I departed, and went off to my business.

Messer Bartolommeo must have reported my audacious speeches to the Pope, and more perhaps than I had really said; for his Holiness waited above two months before he sent to me, and during that while nothing would have induced me to go uncalled for to the palace. Yet he was dying with impatience to see the chalice, and commissioned Messer Ruberto Pucci to give heed to what I was about. [4] That right worthy fellow came daily to visit me, and always gave me some kindly word, which I returned. The time was drawing nigh now for the Pope to travel toward Bologna; [5] so at last, perceiving that I did not mean to come to him, he made Messer Ruberto bid me bring my work, that he might see how I was getting on.

Accordingly, I took it; and having shown, as the piece itself proved, that the most important part was finished, I begged him to advance me five hundred crowns, partly on account, and partly because I wanted gold to complete the chalice. The Pope said: ?Go on, go on at work till it is finished.? I answered, as I took my leave, that I would finish it if he paid me the money. And so I went away.

Note 1. 'Grattare il corpo,' which I have translated scratch your paunch, is equivalent to 'twirl your thumbs.'

Note 2. The office of the Piombo in Rome was a bureau in which leaden seals were appended to Bulls and instruments of state. It remained for a long time in the hands of the Cistercians; but it used also to be conferred on laymen, among whom were Bremante and Sebastiano del Piombo.

When the latter obtained it, he neglected his art and gave himself up to ?scratching his paunch,? as Cellini predicted.

Note 3. Bartolommeo or Baccio Valori, a devoted adherent of the Medici, played an important part in Florentine history. He was Clement?s commissary to the Prince of Orange during the siege. Afterwards, feeling himself ill repaid for his services, he joined Filippo Strozzi in his opposition to the Medicean rule, and was beheaded in 1537, together with his son and a nephew.

Note 4. Roberto Pucci was another of the devoted Medicean partisans who remained true to his colours. He sat among the forty-eight senators of Alessandro, and was made a Cardinal by Paul III. in 1534.

Note 5. On November 18, 1532, Clement went to meet Charles V. at Bologna, where, in 1529, he had already given him the Imperial crown.

LVII

WHEN the Pope took his journey to Bologna, he left Cardinal Salviati as Legate of Rome, and gave him commission to push the work that I was doing forward, adding: ?Benvenuto is a fellow who esteems his own great talents but slightly, and us less; look to it then that you keep him always going, so that I may find the chalice finished on my return.?

That beast of a Cardinal sent for me after eight days, bidding me bring the piece up. On this I went to him without the piece. No sooner had I shown my face, than he called out: ?Where is that onion-stew of yours?

[1] Have you got it ready?? I answered: ?O most reverend Monsignor, I have not got my onion-stew ready, nor shall I make it ready, unless you give me onions to concoct it with.? At these words the Cardinal, who looked more like a donkey than a man, turned uglier by half than he was naturally; and wanting at once to cut the matter short, cried out: ?I?ll send you to a galley, and then perhaps you?ll have the grace [2] to go on with your labour.? The b.e.s.t.i.a.l manners of the man made me a beast too; and I retorted: ?Monsignor, send me to the galleys when I?ve done deeds worthy of them; but for my present laches, I snap my fingers at your galleys: and what is more, I tell you that, just because of you, I will not set hand further to my piece. Don?t send for me again, for I won?t appear, no, not if you summon me by the police.?

After this, the good Cardinal tried several times to let me know that I ought to go on working, and to bring him what I was doing to look at. I only told his messengers: ?Say to Monsignor that he must send me onions, if he wants me to get my stew ready.? Nor gave I ever any other answer; so that he threw up the commission in despair.

Note 1. 'Cipollata.' Literally, a show of onions and pumpkins; metaphorically, a mess, gallimaufry.

Note 2. 'Arai di grazia di.' I am not sure whether I have given the right shade of meaning in the text above. It may mean: 'You will be permitted.'

LVIII

THE POPE came back from Bologna, and sent at once for me, because the Cardinal had written the worst he could of my affairs in his despatches.

He was in the hottest rage imaginable, and bade me come upon the instant with my piece. I obeyed. Now, while the Pope was staying at Bologna, I had suffered from an attack of inflammation in the eyes, so painful that I scarce could go on living for the torment; and this was the chief reason why I had not carried out my work. The trouble was so serious that I expected for certain to be left without my eyesight; and I had reckoned up the sum on which I could subsist, if I were blind for life.

Upon the way to the Pope, I turned over in my mind what I should put forward to excuse myself for not having been able to advance his work. I thought that while he was inspecting the chalice, I might tell him of my personal embarra.s.sments. However, I was unable to do so; for when I arrived in the presence, he broke out coa.r.s.ely at me: ?Come here with your work; is it finished?? I displayed it; and his temper rising, he exclaimed: ?In G.o.d?s truth I tell thee, thou that makest it thy business to hold no man in regard, that, were it not for decency and order, I would have thee chucked together with thy work there out of windows.?

Accordingly, when I perceived that the Pope had become no better than a vicious beast, my chief anxiety was how I could manage to withdraw from his presence. So, while he went on bullying, I tucked the piece beneath my cape, and muttered under my breath: ?The whole world could not compel a blind man to execute such things as these.? Raising his voice still higher, the Pope shouted: ?Come here; what say?st thou?? I stayed in two minds, whether or not to dash at full speed down the staircase; then I took my decision and threw myself upon my knees, shouting as loudly as I could, for he too had not ceased from shouting: ?If an infirmidy has blinded me, am I bound to go on working?? He retorted: ?You saw well enough to make your way hither, and I don?t believe one word of what you say.? I answered, for I noticed he had dropped his voice a little: ?Let your Holiness inquire of your physician, and you will find the truth out.? He said: ?So ho! softly; at leisure we shall hear if what you say is so.? Then, perceiving that he was willing to give me hearing, I added: ?I am convinced that the only cause of this great trouble which has happened to me is Cardinal Salviati; for he sent to me immediately after your holiness? departure, and when I presented myself, he called my work a stew of onions, and told me he would send me to complete it in a galley; and such was the effect upon me of his knavish words, that in my pa.s.sion I felt my face in flame, and so intolerable a heat attacked my eyes that I could not find my own way home. Two days afterwards, cataracts fell on both my eyes; I quite lost my sight, and after your holiness? departure I have been unable to work at all.?

Rising from my knees, I left the presence without further license. It was afterwards reported to me that the Pope has said: ?One can give commissions, but not the prudence to perform them. I did not tell the Cardinal to go so brutally about this business. [1] If it is true that he is suffering from his eyes, of which I shall get information through my doctor, one ought to make allowance for him.? A great gentleman, intimate with the Pope, and a man of very distinguished parts, happened to be present. He asked who I was, using terms like these: ?Most blessed Father, pardon if I put a question. I have seen you yield at one and the same time to the hottest anger I ever observed, and then to the warmest compa.s.sion; so I beg your Holiness to tell me who the man is; for if he is a person worthy to be helped, I can teach him a secret which may cure him of that infirmity.? The Pope replied: ?He is the greatest artist who was ever born in his own craft; one day, when we are together, I will show you some of his marvellous works, and the man himself to boot; and I shall be pleased if we can see our way toward doing something to a.s.sist him.? Three days after this, the Pope sent for me after dinnertime, and I found that great n.o.ble in the presence. On my arrival, the Pope had my cope-b.u.t.ton brought, and I in the meantime drew forth my chalice. The n.o.bleman said, on looking at it, that he had never seen a more stupendous piece of work. When the b.u.t.ton came, he was still more struck with wonder: and looking me straight in the face, he added: ?The man is young, I trow, to be so able in his art, and still apt enough to learn much.? He then asked me what my name was. I answered: ?My name is Benvenuto.? He replied: ?And Benvenuto shall I be this day to you. Take flower-de-luces, stalk, blossom, root, together; then decoct them over a slack fire; and with the liquid bathe your eyes several times a day; you will most certainly be cured of that weakness; but see that you purge first, and then go forward with the lotion.? The Pope gave me some kind words, and so I went away half satisfied.

Note 1. 'Che mettessi tanta mazza.'

LIX