Which human eye before has never done.
One solitary sparrow there I found
And cried, to hear it sing so tunefully:
‘This means I live, but you go underground!’
I sang and wrote my plea for liberty,
Asked help and pardon from my God alone,
Since I knew how my eyes fell lifelessly.
Tiger or bear, or lion, or wolf: not one
Of these thirsts more for blood than he,
A viper with more venom there is none.
This cruel captain skilled in robbery,
The greatest rascal of a wicked troop;
But I’ll speak softer, words betraying me.
If you have seen rapacious police-hounds swoop
Intent on theft into a poor man’s home
Rifling his holy shrines in search of loot,
You know how on that August day did roam
The mob that led me to a harsher tomb:
‘November – scattered, and their curses come.’
I heard a trumpet with a sound like doom;
With all revealed, I told them what it meant,
My rashness forced on me by darkest gloom.
And then, frustrated in bewilderment,
A powdered diamond they would have me eat,
With my sure murder as their fixed intent.
But first I made him taste, that wicked cheat
Who brought my food: it was to him I said:
‘This action cannot be Durante’s feat.’
Before this, all my thoughts to God I sped
Beseeching Him to pardon me my wrong,
And Miserere prayed, with lowered head.
My grief was softened; then with mind more strong
To God my soul I rendered willingly
To take to that kingdom for which I long.
An Angel sent from God came gloriously
Bearing a palm; who then with joyful face
Promised to lengthen my mortality.
‘By harsh war, God,’ he said, ‘will crush the race
Of all your enemies: and then your mirth
Will once again abound. You’ll rest in grace
With Him who rules the heavens and the earth.’
I remained in the Cardinal of Ferrara’s palace; everyone thought very highly of me and I was visited more often than ever before. They all marvelled at how I had made my escape and was still alive after suffering so many indescribable misfortunes. While I was getting my breath back, and trying to recover my skill, I very much enjoyed rewriting the Capitolo. Then to help recover my strength I decided to go on a journey and enjoy the open air for a few days. My good friend, the Cardinal, gave me some horses, along with his consent, and I set off with two young Romans: one of them was a craftsman following the same trade as myself, unlike his friend who came along to keep me company.
I left Rome and made my way towards Tagliacozzo in the hope of finding my pupil, Ascanio, there; and when I arrived I found Ascanio himself, together with his father and brothers and sisters and stepmother. It is impossible to convey how well I was looked after and how affectionately they treated me. Then after two days I started back towards Rome, taking Ascanio with me. On the way we began discussing matters of art, with the result that I was burning to get back to the city and begin work again. When we did arrive I immediately prepared to start work, and first of all I rescued a silver bowl that I had begun for the Cardinal before I was imprisoned. Along with it I had also begun work on an exquisite little jug, but this together with a host of other very valuable objects was stolen from me.
I set Pagolo to work on the bowl: at the same time I made a fresh start on the jug. I made the design with figures both in the round and in low relief, and the bowl was designed likewise, with figures in full relief and fishes in low relief. The work was so rich and so perfectly arranged that everyone who saw it was astonished at the force and ingenuity of the design, and at the neatness of my young men’s craftsmanship.
At least twice a day the Cardinal used to come and pass some of his time with me. He would bring Luigi Alamanni and Gabriello Cesano213 along with him, and we spent many pleasant hours together. Even though I had a great deal on my hands he kept loading me with new work; and he commissioned me to make his pontifical seal. This seal was as large as the hand of a twelve-year-old boy; I cut two scenes on it, in low relief, each of which told a story. One showed St John, preaching in the desert; and the other, St Ambrose, on horseback and with a whip in his hand, driving the Arians away. This showed such force and excellence of design and such neat workmanship that everyone said that I had surpassed the great Lautizio, who specialized in this kind of work. In fact the Cardinal used to compare it with great self-satisfaction to the seals which had been made for the other cardinals of Rome and which were nearly all from the hand of Lautizio.
In addition to those two works the Cardinal ordered me to make the model for a salt-cellar, but he insisted on its being different from the usual kind. Luigi made a splendid speech, with the proposed salt-cellar as his theme; and then Gabriello Cesano in turn gave an eloquent description of how he envisaged it should be. The Cardinal listened to them very politely and was extremely pleased with the designs that these two men of letters had sketched for him with their words. Then he turned to me and said:
‘My dear Benvenuto, I’m so pleased with both of their designs – Luigi’s and Gabriello’s – that I wouldn’t know which of the two to pick. So, seeing that it’s you who have to execute it, I leave it to you.’
‘You know, my lords,’ I replied, ‘how important the sons of kings and emperors are, and you know how magnificently splendid and divine they appear. All the same, if you ask a poor humble shepherd whom he loves more deeply, those boys or his own sons, without any doubt at all he’ll answer that he loves his own sons more. Just so, I have a great love for the sons I create for my art. The first design I shall show you then, most reverend monsignor, my patron, will be my own work and invention. There are many things which appear beautiful when spoken about, but, when put to the test, don’t result in good work.’
Then I turned to those two great men of letters and added: ‘You have spoken, and I shall act.’
At this Messer Luigi Alamanni broke into a laugh, and then, very pleasantly, started making a brilliant little speech in praise of me: it suited him very well, since he was very handsome, had a well-proportioned body, and spoke with a charming voice. Messer Gabriello Cesano was quite the reverse, he was so ugly and disagreeable. So he spoke the same way as he looked.
The design Messer Luigi had envisaged when he was talking about it had been for a figure of Venus, together with one of Cupid, as well as a number of appropriate ornaments. Messer Gabriello had offered as his idea a model of Amphitrite, the wife of Neptune, along with Neptune’s Tritons, and many other things that were very fine to talk about but not to make.
Anyhow, I made an oval shape, a good deal more than half a cubit in size – in fact almost two-thirds – and on it I modelled two large figures, to represent the Sea embracing the Land. They were a good deal more than a palm in size, sitting with their legs entwined in the same way as certain long branches of the sea cut into the land. In the hand of the male figure, the Sea, I put a very richly ornamented ship, that could easily and conveniently take a good quantity of salt; underneath him I positioned the four sea-horses, and I placed the trident in his right hand. I represented the Land by a woman, whose beauty of form was such that it demanded all my skill and knowledge. She was beautiful and graceful, and by her hand I placed a richly ornamented temple; it was placed on the ground, and she rested her hand on it. I made this to hold the pepper. In her other hand I put a horn of plenty, adorned as exquisitely as I knew how. Beneath this goddess, on the part which was meant to be the earth, I grouped all those wonderfully beautiful animals that the earth produces. Corresponding to this, I fashioned for the Sea every kind of beautiful fish and shell that the small space could cont
ain. The rest of the oval I filled in with a host of rich designs.
Then I waited for the Cardinal. He came along with those two men of letters, and I brought out my wax model of the work.214 When he saw it, Messer Gabriello was the first to raise his voice and shout:
‘It would take more than ten men working all their lives to finish this work: and as for you, most reverend monsignor, you may want it, but you’ll never have it in your lifetime. Benvenuto wanted to show his children but he didn’t want to give them away as we did: we were talking about things that could be done and what he’s showing us simply can’t be done.’
At this Luigi Alamanni took my part, but the Cardinal said that he did not want to commit himself to such a great undertaking. Then I turned to them and said:
‘Most reverend monsignor, and learned gentlemen, I tell you this: I hope to complete this work for whoever is to have it, and you shall all see it finished a hundred times more elaborate than the model is. I trust there’s still plenty of time left to do much more ambitious things than this.’
The Cardinal replied angrily: ‘If you don’t make it for the King, to whom I’m taking you, I don’t think it can be made for anyone else.’
Then he showed me the letter containing a passage where the King wrote that he should return straight away, bringing Benvenuto with him. I lifted my hands to heaven and cried: ‘But oh, when will this “straight away” be?’
The Cardinal said that I should have all my affairs in Rome cleared up and be quite ready within ten days.
When it was time for us to leave he gave me a fine handsome horse, which was called Tornon because it had been given him by the Cardinal of Tornon.215 My apprentices, Pagolo and Ascanio, were also provided with mounts.
The Cardinal divided his following, which was very large, into two. The more distinguished part he took with himself, going with it by way of the Romagna, in order to visit the shrine of Our Lady of Loreto and then go on to his home, Ferrara. The other part he directed by way of Florence. This was the more numerous, consisting in a whole host of people including the flower of his horsemen. He told me that if I wanted to travel safely I should go with him, for if not I’d be in danger of my life. I told his Eminence that I wanted to accompany him: but – such was the will of heaven – it pleased God to remind me of my poor sister, who had been so anxious and upset about my great misfortunes. I also remembered my cousins, who were nuns at Viterbo, one the abbess and the other the refectorer, so that between them they were in charge of the rich convent there. Seeing what grave anxiety I had caused them and how much they had prayed for me, I was firmly convinced that the prayers of those poor virgins had moved God to grant me my safety. So, bearing all this in mind, I decided to go by way of Florence: and although I could have set out, with my expenses paid, either in the company of the Cardinal or with the other part of his following, I determined to go by myself. I travelled in the company of a very famous clockmaker called Cherubino:216 he was a great friend of mine. We came together by chance and we travelled together very happily.
The three of us left Rome on our own on the Monday of Holy Week, and we met the company I mentioned at Monte Ruosi. As I had spread it around that I was going with the Cardinal I felt sure that none of my enemies would be looking out for me. However I came off badly at Monte Ruosi, for a band of well-armed men had been sent ahead of us to assault me. As God would have it, while we were at dinner, having found out that I wasn’t travelling in the Cardinal’s party they made their plans to attack. But at this point the Cardinal’s troop arrived, and so with a light heart I travelled safe in their company as far as Viterbo. From then on there was no fear of danger, especially as I rode a few miles ahead and the best men in the Cardinal’s train kept a close eye on me. Thanks to God I arrived safe and sound at Viterbo, where I was welcomed with the warmest affection by my cousins and the rest of the nuns.
I left Viterbo with the people I mentioned and we rode on our way, sometimes in front of and sometimes behind the Cardinal’s train. So on Maundy Thursday, two hours before nightfall, we found ourselves within travelling distance of Siena. There were some horses there waiting to be brought back to the city and the post officials were ready to hire them at a small charge to anyone who would take them back to the post-station at Siena. When I saw this I dismounted from my horse, Tornon, put my pillion and stirrups on one of the waiting horses, and gave a giulio to one of the postboys. I left my horse for the young men to bring after me, and without delay I set off in advance in order to arrive at Siena half an hour earlier, as I wanted to visit a friend of mine and see about some other business. Although I moved pretty fast, however, I didn’t race the horse. When I reached Siena I booked some good rooms at the inn, for five people, and got a serving-lad to lead the horse back to the post-station, which was outside the Camolliìa gate; but I forgot to remove my pillion and stirrups.
We spent the evening of Maundy Thursday very pleasantly, and then next morning – Good Friday – I remembered my stirrups and pillion. When I sent for them the postmaster said that he refused to return them since I had raced the horse. We exchanged messages, backwards and forwards, and he kept repeating that he wouldn’t return them, and he threw in some intolerable insults. The innkeeper where I was lodging said:
‘You’re getting off lightly if all he does is keep your pillion and stirrups.’
Then he added: ‘You know, he’s the most brutal fellow we’ve ever had in this city, and his two bold warlike sons are even worse. So buy what you want, and then go on your way without saying another word.’
I did in fact buy a pair of stirrups, but I thought that if I spoke in a friendly way I’d get my fine pillion back again. Besides, I was well horsed, well armed with a coat of mail and gauntlets, and I had a splendid arquebus slung across the saddle; so despite the innkeeper’s saying how brutal that mad beast was I wasn’t the slightest bit afraid. I had also accustomed my young men to wear mail coats and sleeves and I had every confidence in the young Roman, who while we were in Rome had never, as far as I could see, left his off; while Ascanio, young as he was, also used to wear them.
Anyhow, seeing that it was Good Friday I reckoned that, as far as their madness was concerned, madmen would have the day off. We reached the Camollìa gate, and I recognized the postmaster when I saw him from the signs that had been given me, for he was blind in the left eye. I left my young men and travelling companions some way off, rode up to him, and said courteously:
‘Postmaster, if I assure you that I didn’t race your horse, why aren’t you good enough to give me back my pillion and stirrups?’
He replied exactly as I had been told he would, like a mad beast. At this I exclaimed:
‘What, aren’t you a Christian? Do you want both of us to cause scandal on a Good Friday?’
He said that he didn’t care a damn whether it was Good Friday or Bad Friday, and that if I didn’t clear off he’d knock me down – and my arquebus as well – with the halberd he had taken hold of. Hearing these violent words, an old Sienese gentleman made his way towards us. He was wearing an ordinary citizen’s clothes and he was returning from his Good Friday devotions. From a distance he had caught quite clearly the drift of my argument, and he took my part and began giving the postmaster a sound dressing-down. He told off the two sons for not behaving properly towards a passing stranger; he said that this was flying in God’s face and a disgrace to the city of Siena. The two young men shook their heads without saying anything and went inside the house. Their frenzied father, exasperated by what that fine old gentleman was saying, straight away started blaspheming shamefully, lowered his halberd, and swore that whatever happened he would murder me with it.
When I saw his brutal intention, in order to make him keep his distance, I made as if to point my gun at him. He came at me more furiously than ever. I was ready to defend myself, and I had the arquebus ready, but I hadn’t lowered it to the extent that it was pointing at him, and in fact it was pointing upwards; and then i
t went off by itself. The ball hit the arch of the doorway, glanced back, and struck him in the windpipe. He fell down dead; and then his two sons came rushing out. One of them armed himself from the stand they had there and the other seized his father’s halberd. Then they rushed on my young men. The one with the halberd attacked Pagolo, the Roman lad, striking him about the left breast; the other ran at a Milanese who was travelling with us. His face was stupid with fear: without success, he tried to save himself by crying out that he had nothing to do with me, and then he defended himself from the pike that was thrust at him with a little cane he had in his hand. But all this did not prevent his receiving a slight wound in the mouth.
Cherubino was in clerical dress, for although he was a first-rate clockmaker, as I said before, he also held some very profitable benefices from the Pope. Ascanio was well armed, and so unlike the Milanese he stood his ground. So he and Cherubino weren’t touched. As for me, I had clapped spurs to my horse and while I was galloping away I quickly prepared and loaded my gun; and then I turned back, almost choking with rage. I had been treating the matter as a joke, but now, I thought, it was time to take it seriously. Under the impression that my young lads had been killed I determined to die myself. But my horse had not galloped back far when I met them coming towards me and asked if they were hurt. Ascanio replied that Pagolo had been mortally wounded by a halberd.
‘Pagolo, my dear son,’ I said, ‘then the halberd pierced your coat of mail?’
‘No,’ he answered, ‘I packed it in my bag this morning.’
‘So coats of mail are worn in Rome to please the ladies, but when there’s danger and they have a purpose to serve they’re packed away? You deserve all you’ve got – and it’s your fault that I’m riding to my death as well.’
While I was saying this I continued to ride back recklessly along the road. Both he and Ascanio implored me for the love of God to save myself along with them, since I was certainly going to my death. Then I met Cherubino together with the wounded Milanese. He at once shouted out that no one had been hurt and that Pagolo had only been grazed, adding that the old postmaster lay dead, that his sons and a crowd of others were getting ready for us, and that we would certainly all be cut to pieces.
The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini Page 31