Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini Part 30

Note 1. In the year 1552, when Piero Strozzi acted as general for the French King, Henri II., against the Spaniards. The war ended in the capitulation of Siena in 1555. In 1557 it was ceded by Philip II. to Cosimo de? Medici.

Note 2. These artists, with the exception of pasqualino, are all known to us in the conditions described by Cellini. Francesco da San Gallo was the son of Giuliano, and nephew of Antonio da San Gallo.

Lx.x.xVI

THERE was on guard at the gate of Prato a certain Lombard captain; he was a truculent and stalwart fellow, of incredibly coa.r.s.e speech, whose presumption matched his utter ignorance. This man began at once to ask me what I was about there. I politely exhibited my drawings, and took infinite pains to make him understand my purpose. The rude brute kept rolling his head, and turning first to one side and then to the other, s.h.i.+fting himself upon his legs, and twirling his enormous moustachios; then he drew his cap down over his eyes and roared out: ?Zounds! deuce take it! I can make nothing of this rigmarole.? At last the animal became so tiresome that I said: ?Leave it then to me, who do understand it,? and turned my shoulders to go about my business. At this he began to threaten me with his head, and, setting his left hand on the pommel of his sword, tilted the point up, and exclaimed: ?Hullo, my master! you want perhaps to make me cross blades with you?? I faced round in great fury, for the man had stirred my blood, and cried out: ?It would be less trouble to run you through the body than to build the bastion of this gate.? In an instant we both set hands to our swords, without quite drawing; for a number of honest folk, citizens of Florence, and others of them courtiers, came running up. The greater part of them rated the captain, telling him that he was in the wrong, that I was a man to give him back as good as I got, and that if this came to the Duke?s ears, it would be the worse for him. Accordingly he went off on his own business, and I began with my bastion.

After setting things in order there, I proceeded to the other little gate of Arno, where I found a captain from Cesena, the most polite, well-mannered man I ever knew in that profession. He had the air of a gentle young lady, but at need he could prove himself one of the boldest and bloodiest fighters in the world. This agreeable gentleman observed me so attentively that he made me bashful and self-conscious; and seeing that he wanted to understand what I was doing, I courteously explained my plans. Suffice it to say, that we vied with each other in civilities, which made me do far better with this bastion than with the other.

I had nearly finished the two bastions when an inroad of Piero Strozzi?s people struck such terror into the countryfolk of Prato that they began to leave it in a body, and all their carts, laden with the household goods of each family, came crowding into the city. The number of them was so enormous, cart jostling with cart, and the confusion was so great, that I told the guards to look out lest the same misadventure should happen at this gate as had occurred at the gates of Turin; for if we had once cause to lower the portcullis, it would not be able to perform its functions, but must inevitably stick suspended upon one of the waggons. When that big brute of a captain heard these words, he replied with insults, and I retorted in the same tone. We were on the point of coming to a far worse quarrel than before. However, the folk kept us asunder; and when I had finished my bastions, I touched some score of crowns, which I had not expected, and which were uncommonly welcome. So I returned with a blithe heart to finish my Perseus.

Lx.x.xVII

DURING those days some antiquities had been discovered in the country round Arezzo. Among them was the Chimaera, that bronze lion which is to be seen in the rooms adjacent to the great hall of the palace. [1]

Together with the Chimaera a number of little statuettes, likewise in bronze, had been brought to light; they were covered with earth and rust, and each of them lacked either head or hands or feet. The Duke amused his leisure hours by cleaning up these statuettes himself with certain little chisels used by goldsmiths. It happened on one occasion that I had to speak on business to his Excellency; and while we were talking, he reached me a little hammer, with which I struck the chisels the Duke held, and so the figures were disengaged from their earth and rust. In this way we pa.s.sed several evenings, and then the Duke commissioned me to restore the statuettes. He took so much pleasure in these trifles that he made me work by day also, and if I delayed coming, he used to send for me. I very often submitted to his Excellency that if I left my Perseus in the daytime, several bad consequences would ensue.

The first of these, which caused me the greatest anxiety, was that, seeing me spend so long a time upon my statue, the Duke himself might get disgusted; which indeed did afterwards happen. The other was that I had several journeymen who in my absence were up to two kinds of mischief; first, they spoilt my piece, and then they did as little work as possible. These arguments made his Excellency consent that I should only go to the palace after twenty-four o?clock.

I had now conciliated the affection of his Excellency to such an extent, that every evening when I came to him he treated me with greater kindness. About this time the new apartments were built toward the lions; [2] the Duke then wis.h.i.+ng to be able to retire into a less public part of the palace, fitted up for himself a little chamber in these new lodgings, and ordered me approach to it by a private pa.s.sage. I had to pa.s.s through his wardrobe, then across the stage of the great hall, and afterwards through certain little dark galleries and cabinets. The d.u.c.h.ess, however, after a few days, deprived me of this means of access by having all the doors upon the path I had to traverse locked up. The consequence was that every evening when I arrived at the palace, I had to wait a long while, because the d.u.c.h.ess occupied the cabinets for her personal necessities. [3] Her habit of body was unhealthy, and so I never came without incommoding her. This and other causes made her hate the very sight of me. However, nothwithstanding great discomforts and daily annoyances, I persevered in going. The Duke?s orders, meanwhile, were so precise, that no sooner did I knock at those doors, than they were immediately opened, and I was allowed to pa.s.s freely where I chose.

The consequence was that occasionally, while walking noiselessly and unexpectedly through the private rooms, I came upon the d.u.c.h.ess at a highly inconvenient moment. Bursting then into such a furious storm of rage that I was frightened, she cried out: ?When will you ever finish mending up those statuettes? Upon my word, this perpetual going and coming of yours has grown to be too great a nuisance.? I replied as gently as I could: ?My lady and sole mistress, I have no other desire than to serve you loyally and with the strictest obedience. This work to which the Duke has put me will last several months; so tell me, most ill.u.s.trious Excellency, whether you wish me not to come here any more.

In that case I will not come, whoever calls me; nay, should the Duke himself send for me, I shall reply that I am ill, and by no means will I intrude again.? To this speech she made answer: ?I do not bid you not to come, nor do I bid you to disobey the Duke; but I repeat that your work seems to me as though it would never be finished.?

Whether the Duke heard something of this encounter, or whatever the cause was, he began again as usual. Toward twenty-four o?clock he sent for me; and his messenger always spoke to this effect: ?Take good care, and do not fail to come, for the Duke is waiting for you.? In this way I continued, always with the same inconveniences, to put in an appearance on several successive evenings. Upon one occasion among others, arriving in my customary way, the Duke, who had probably been talking with the d.u.c.h.ess about private matters, turned upon me in a furious anger. I was terrified, and wanted to retire. But he called out: ?Come in, friend Benvenuto; go to your affairs; I will rejoin you in a few moments.?

While I was pa.s.sing onward, Don Garzia, then quite a little fellow, plucked me by the cape, and played with me as prettily as such a child could do. The Duke looked up delighted, and exclaimed: ?What pleasant and friendly terms my boys are on with you!?

Note 1. Now in the Uffizzi.

Note 2. Lions from a very early period had always been kept in part of the Palazzo Vecchio.

Note 3. 'Alle sue comodita.'

Lx.x.xVIII

WHILE I was working at these bagatelles, the Prince, and Don Giovanni, and Don Arnando, and Don Garzia kept always hovering around me, teasing me whenever the Duke?s eyes were turned. [1] I begged them for mercy?s sake to hold their peace. They answered: ?That we cannot do.? I told them: ?What one cannot is required of no one! So have your will! Along with you!? At this both Duke and d.u.c.h.ess burst out laughing.

Another evening, after I had finished the small bronze figures which are wrought into the pedestal of Perseus, that is to say, the Jupiter, Mercury, Minerva, and Danae, with the little Perseus seated at his mother?s feet, I had them carried into the room where I was wont to work, and arranged them in a row, raised somewhat above the line of vision, so that they produced a magnificent effect. The Duke heard of this, and made his entrance sooner than usual. It seems that the person who informed his Excellency praised them above their merit, using terms like ?far superior to the ancients,? and so forth; wherefore the Duke came talking pleasantly with the d.u.c.h.ess about my doings. I rose at once and went to meet them. With his fine and truly princely manner he received me, lifting his right hand, in which he held as superb a pear-graft as could possibly be seen. ?Take it, my Benvenuto!? he exclaimed; ?plant this pear in your garden.? To these words I replied with a delighted gesture: ?O my lord, does your most ill.u.s.trious Excellency really mean that I should plant it in the garden of my house?

?Yes,? he said, ?in the garden of the house which belongs to you. Have you understood me?? I thanked his Excellency, and the d.u.c.h.ess in like manner, with the best politeness I could use.

After this they both took seats in front of the statues, and for more than two hours went on talking about nothing but the beauties of the work. The d.u.c.h.ess was wrought up to such an enthusiasm that she cried out: ?I do not like to let those exquisite figures be wasted on the pedestal down there in the piazza, where they will run the risk of being injured. I would much rather have you fix them in one of my apartments, where they will be preserved with the respect due to their singular artistic qualities.? I opposed this plan with many forcible arguments; but when I saw that she was determined I should not place them on the pedestal where they now stand, I waited till next day, and went to the palace about twenty-two o?clock. Ascertaining that the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess were out riding, and having already prepared the pedestal, I had the statues carried down, and soldered them with lead into their proper niches. Oh, when the d.u.c.h.ess knew of this, how angry she was! Had it not been for the Duke, who manfully defended me, I should have paid dearly for my daring. Her indignation about the pearls, and now again about this matter of the statues, made her so contrive that the Duke abandoned his amus.e.m.e.nts in our workshop. Consequently I went there no more, and was met again with the same obstructions as formerly whenever I wanted to gain access to the palace.

Note 1. The Prince was Don Francesco, then aged twelve; Don Giovanni was ten, Don Garzia was six, and Don Ferdinando four.

Lx.x.xIX

I RETURNED to the Loggia, [1] whither my Perseus had already been brought, and went on putting the last touches to my work, under the old difficulties always; that is to say, lack of money, and a hundred untoward accidents, the half of which would have cowed a man armed with adamant.

However, I pursued my course as usual; and one morning, after I had heard ma.s.s at San Piero Scheraggio, that brute Bernardone, broker, worthless goldsmith, and by the Duke?s grace purveyor to the mint, pa.s.sed by me. No sooner had he got outside the church than the dirty pig let fly four cracks which might have been heard from San Miniato. I cried: ?Yah! pig, poltroon, donkey! is that the noise your filthy talents make?? and ran off for a cudgel. He took refuge on the instant in the mint; while I stationed myself inside my housedoor, which I left ajar, setting a boy at watch upon the street to warn me when the pig should leave the mint. After waiting some time, I grew tired, and my heat cooled. Reflecting, then, that blows are not dealt by contract, and that some disaster might ensue, I resolved to wreak my vengeance by another method. The incident took place about the feast of our San Giovanni, one or two days before; so I composed four verses, and stuck them up in an angle of the church where people go to ease themselves.

The verses ran as follows:--

?Here lieth Bernardone, a.s.s and pig,

Spy, broker, thief, in whom Pandora planted

All her worst evils, and from thence transplanted

Into that brute Buaccio?s carca.s.s big.? 2

Both the incident and the verses went the round of the palace, giving the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess much amus.e.m.e.nt. But, before the man himself knew what I had been up to, crowds of people stopped to read the lines and laughed immoderately at them. Since they were looking towards the mint and fixing their eyes on Bernardone, his son, Maestro Baccio, taking notice of their gestures, tore the paper down with fury. The elder bit his thumb, shrieking threats out with that hideous voice of his, which comes forth through his nose; indeed he made a brave defiance. 3

Note 1. That is, the Loggia de? Lanzi, on the great piazza of Florence, where Cellini?s statue still stands.

Note 2. If I understand the obscure lines of the original, Cellini wanted to kill two birds with one stone by this epigram--both Bernardone and his son Baccio. But by Buaccio he generally means Baccio Bandinelli.

Note 3. To bite the thumb at any one was, as students of our old drama know, a sign of challenge or provocation.

XC

WHEN the Duke was informed that the whole of my work for the Perseus could be exhibited as finished, he came one day to look at it. His manner showed clearly that it gave him great satisfaction; but afterwards he turned to some gentlemen attending him and said: ?Although this statue seems in our eyes a very fine piece, still it has yet to win the favour of the people. Therefore, my Benvenuto, before you put the very last touches on, I should like you, for my sake, to remove a part of the scaffolding on the side of the piazza, some day toward noon, in order that we may learn what folk think of it. There is no doubt that when it is thrown open to s.p.a.ce and light, it will look very differently from what it does in this enclosure.? I replied with all humility to his Excellency: ?You must know, my lord, that it will make more than twice as good a show. Oh, how is it that your most ill.u.s.trious Excellency has forgotten seeing it in the garden of my house? There, in that large extent of s.p.a.ce, it showed so bravely that Bandinello, coming through the garden of the Innocents to look at it, was compelled, in spite of his evil and malignant nature, to praise it, he who never praised aught or any one in all his life! I perceive that your Excellency lends too ready an ear to that fellow.? When I had done speaking, he smiled ironically and a little angrily; yet he replied with great kindness: ?Do what I ask, my Benvenuto, just to please me.?

When the Duke had left, I gave orders to have the screen removed. Yet some trifles of gold, varnish, and various other little finis.h.i.+ngs were still wanting; wherefore I began to murmur and complain indignantly, cursing the unhappy day which brought me to Florence. Too well I knew already the great and irreparable sacrifice I made when I left France; nor could I discover any reasonable ground for hope that I might prosper in the future with my prince and patron. From the commencement to the middle and the ending, everything that I had done had been performed to my great disadvantage. Therefore, it was with deep ill-humour that I disclosed my statue on the following day.

Now it pleased G.o.d that, on the instant of its exposure to view, a shout of boundless enthusiasm went up in commendation of my work, which consoled me not a little. The folk kept on attaching sonnets to the posts of the door, which was protected with a curtain while I gave the last touches to the statue. I believe that on the same day when I opened it a few hours to the public, more than twenty were nailed up, all of them overflowing with the highest panegyrics. Afterwards, when I once more shut it off from view, every day brought sonnets, with Latin and Greek verses; for the University of Pisa was then in vacation, and all the doctors and scholars kept vying with each other who could praise it best. But what gratified me most, and inspired me with most hope of the Duke?s support, was that the artists, sculptors and painters alike, entered into the same generous compet.i.tion. I set the highest value on the eulogies of that excellent painter Jacopo Pontormo, and still more on those of his able pupil Bronzino, who was not satisfied with merely publis.h.i.+ng his verses, but sent them by his lad Sandrino?s hand to my own house. [1] They spoke so generously of my performance, in that fine style of his which is most exquisite, that this alone repaid me somewhat for the pain of my long troubles. So then I closed the screen, and once more set myself to finis.h.i.+ng my statue.

Note 1. Jacopo Carrucci da Pantormo was now an old man. He died in 1558, aged sixty-five years. Angelo Allori, called Il Bronzino, one of the last fairly good Florentine painters, won considerable distinction as a writer of burlesque poems. He died in 1571, aged sixty-nine years. We possess his sonnets of the perseus.

XCI

THE GREAT compliments which this short inspection of my Perseus had elicited from the n.o.ble school of Florence, though they were well known to the Duke, did not prevent him from saying: ?I am delighted that Benvenuto has had this trifling satisfaction, which will spur him on to the desired conclusion with more speed and diligence. Do not, however, let him imagine that, when his Perseus shall be finally exposed to view from all sides, folk in general will be so lavish of their praises. On the contrary, I am afraid that all its defects will then be brought home to him, and more will be detected than the statue really has. So let him arm himself with patience.? These were precisely the words which Bandinello had whispered in the Duke?s ears, citing the works of Andrea del Verrocchio, who made that fine bronze of Christ and S. Thomas on the front of Orsammichele; at the same time he referred to many other statues, and dared even to attack the marvellous David of divine Michel Agnolo Buonarroti, accusing it of only looking well if seen in front; finally, he touched upon the mult.i.tude of sarcastic sonnets which were called forth by his own Hercules and Cacus, and wound up with abusing the people of Florence. Now the Duke, who was too much inclined to credit his a.s.sertions, encouraged the fellow to speak thus, and thought in his own heart that things would go as he had prophesied, because that envious creature Bandinello never ceased insinuating malice. On one occasion it happened that the gallows bird Bernardone, the broker, was present at these conversations, and in support of Bandinello?s calumnies, he said to the Duke: ?You must remember, prince, that statues on a large scale are quite a different dish of soup from little figures.

I do not refuse him the credit of being excellent at statuettes in miniature. But you will soon see that he cannot succeed in that other sphere of art.? To these vile suggestions he added many others of all sorts, plying his spy?s office, and piling up a mountain of lies to boot.

XCII

NOW it pleased my glorious Lord and immortal G.o.d that at last I brought the whole work to completion: and on a certain Thursday morning I exposed it to the public gaze. [1] Immediately, before the sun was fully in the heavens, there a.s.sembled such a mult.i.tude of people that no words could describe them. All with one voice contended which should praise it most. The Duke was stationed at a window low upon the first floor of the palace, just above the entrance; there, half hidden, he heard everything the folk were saying of my statue. After listening through several hours, he rose so proud and happy in his heart that he turned to his attendant, Messer Sforza, and exclaimed: ?Sforza, go and seek out Benvenuto; tell him from me that he has delighted me far more than I expected: say too that I shall reward him in a way which will astonish him; so bid him be of good courage.?

In due course, Messer Sforza discharged this glorious emba.s.sy, which consoled me greatly. I pa.s.sed a happy day, partly because of the Duke?s message, and also because the folk kept pointing me out as something marvellous and strange. Among the many who did so, were two gentlemen, deputed by the Viceroy of Sicily [2] to our Duke on public business. Now these two agreeable persons met me upon the piazza: I had been shown them in pa.s.sing, and now they made monstrous haste to catch me up; then, with caps in hand, they uttered an oration so ceremonious, that it would have been excessive for a Pope. I bowed, with every protestation of humility. They meanwhile continued loading me with compliments, until at last I prayed them, for kindness? sake, to leave the piazza in my company, because the folk were stopping and staring at me more than at my Perseus. In the midst of all these ceremonies, they went so far as to propose that I should come to Sicily, and offered to make terms which should content me. They told me how Fra Giovan Agnolo de? Servi [3] had constructed a fountain for them, complete in all parts, and decorated with a mult.i.tude of figures; but it was not in the same good style they recognised in Perseus, and yet they had heaped riches on the man. I would not suffer them to finish all their speeches, but answered: ?You give me much cause for wonder, seeking as you do to make me quit the service of a prince who is the greatest patron of the arts that ever lived; and I too here in my own birthplace, famous as the school of every art and science! Oh, if my soul?s desire had been set on lucre, I could have stayed in France, with that great monarch Francis, who gave me a thousand golden crowns a year for board, and paid me in addition the price of all my labour. In his service I gained more than four thousand golden crowns the year.?

With these and such like words I cut their ceremonies short, thanking them for the high praises they had bestowed upon me, which were indeed the best reward that artists could receive for their labours. I told them they had greatly stimulated my zeal, so that I hoped, after a few years were pa.s.sed, to exhibit another masterpiece, which I dared believe would yield far truer satisfaction to our n.o.ble school of Florence. The two gentlemen were eager to resume the thread of their complimentary proposals, whereupon I, lifting my cap and making a profound bow, bade them a polite farewell.

Note 1. April 27, 1554.

Note 2. Don Juan de Vega.

Note 3. Giovanni Angelo Montorsoli entered the Order of the Servites in 1530. This did not prevent him from plying his profession of sculptor.

The work above alluded to is the fountain at Messina.

XCIII

WHEN two more days had pa.s.sed, and the chorus of praise was ever on the increase, I resolved to go and present myself to the Duke, who said with great good-humour: ?My Benvenuto, you have satisfied and delighted me; but I promise that I will reward you in such wise as will make you wonder; and I tell you that I do not mean to delay beyond to-morrow.? On hearing this most welcome a.s.surance, I turned all the forces of my soul and body to G.o.d, fervently offering up thanks to Him. At the same moment I approached the Duke, and almost weeping for gladness, kissed his robe.

Then I added: ?O my glorious prince, true and most generous lover of the arts, and of those who exercise them! I entreat your most ill.u.s.trious Excellency to allow me eight days first to go and return thanks to G.o.d; for I alone know what travail I have endured, and that my earnest faith has moved Him to a.s.sist me. In grat.i.tude for this and all other marvellous mercies, I should like to travel eight days on pilgrimage, continually thanking my immortal G.o.d, who never fails to help those who call upon Him with sincerity.? The Duke then asked me where I wished to go. I answered: ?To-morrow I shall set out for Vallombrosa, thence to Camaldoli and the Ermo, afterwards I shall proceed to the Bagni di Santa Maria, and perhaps so far as Sestile, because I hear of fine antiquities to be seen there. [1] Then I shall retrace my steps by San Francesco della Vernia, and, still with thanks to G.o.d, return light-hearted to your service.? The Duke replied at once with cheerful kindness: ?Go and come back again, for of a truth you please me; but do not forget to send a couple of lines by way of memorandum, and leave the rest to me.?