The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini

by Benvenuto Cellini

  I immediately handed the vases over to him, though two of them were mine, together with the silver and everything else. I was taking them to the Cardinal of Ferrara’s abbey at Lyons: although I was accused of intending to take them to Italy, everyone knows that it’s impossible to take out money or gold or silver without very special permission. So one can imagine whether I could take out those three big vases272 which, with their cases, needed a mule to carry them. True enough, seeing that they were very beautiful and worth a great deal, I was worried in case the King died, since I had certainly left him in a very poor state.

  I said to myself: ‘If such a thing were to happen I would know they were in the Cardinal’s possession, and so I can’t lose them.’

  Anyhow, what happened was that I sent back the mule, with the vases and other important things, and the following morning in the company I mentioned I set out on the next stage of the journey. I never once found it possible to stop sighing and weeping. But sometimes I drew comfort from God, praying to Him:

  ‘Almighty God, You possess the truth, and You know that this journey of mine is only so that I can bring help to six poor, unhappy young girls and to my own sister, their mother. True, they have a father, but he is so very old and his trade earns him nothing. They could so easily be ruined. So in doing this pious work, I rely for help and guidance on Your Divine Majesty.’

  This was the only relief I had on my journey.

  One day when we found ourselves a day’s distance from Lyons (it was nearly two hours before sunset), we heard the crackling of thunder and noticed how very clear the sky was: I was a bow’s shot in front of my companions. After the thunder we heard such a tremendous, fearful noise reverberating in the skies that I was convinced it must be the Day of Judgement. I paused for a while, and there was a fall of hail, without a drop of water. The hail was bigger than pellets shot from a blow-pipe, and when it hit me was very painful: little by little its size increased, till it was like the bullets from a crossbow. Realizing that my horse was terrified out of his wits, I turned round and galloped back furiously till I met up with my companions, who being frightened like me had taken shelter in a pinewood. The hail-stones grew to the size of large lemons. I sang a Miserere and while I was praying to God in this devout way a hail-stone fell that was so large that it smashed a very thick branch from the pine under which I thought I was safe; another fall of stones crashed on to the head of my horse, which staggered as if to fall; and one of them struck me, though not directly or I would have been killed.

  In the same way one of them fell on poor old Lionardo Tedaldi who, as he was kneeling down like me, was forced on to his hands. At this, seeing that the branch could no longer protect me and that one must do something else as well as saying the Miserere, I hurriedly began to gather up my clothes over my head. To Lionardo, who was screaming for Jesus to rescue him, I said that Jesus would help him if he helped himself. I found it more difficult looking after him than after myself. The storm continued some while, and then stopped: we had all been given a pounding, but we remounted our horses as best we could and rode on towards our next stopping-place, showing each other the scratches and bruises we had received. Then a mile in front we found a spectacle of ruin so much greater than our own misfortune that it defies description.

  All the trees were stripped and smashed; all the animals around had been killed, as well as a good number of shepherds. We saw a mass of stones which were so large that it was impossible to get both your hands round them. So we reckoned that we had escaped lightly and realized that our calling on God and singing Misereres had afforded us better protection than we would have got from our own efforts. So, giving thanks to God, the next day we pushed on to Lyons, and there we stayed put for a week. When the week was up we carried on with our journey thoroughly refreshed, and passed through the mountains very pleasantly. On the other side, as some small items of luggage I had with me had somewhat strained my horses, I bought a little pony.

  After we had been a day in Italy we were joined by Count Galeotto della Mirandola, who was travelling in the post. He stopped at the place where we were and told me that I had been wrong to leave and that I should go no farther, because if I went back straight away things would go better than ever for me. But if I went on, he said, I was leaving the field to my enemies, and they had every opportunity for doing me harm. On the other hand, if I returned at once I would frustrate the plot that they had formed against me. Those in whom I had most trust, he said, were the ones who were betraying me. He would only tell me what he knew for certain, and that the Cardinal of Ferrara had entered into a conspiracy with the two rogues I had left to look after all my affairs.

  The young lord kept on insisting that I should return at all costs. Then he joined the post and carried on with his journey, and I myself, because of my companions, also decided to go forward. I was in two minds as to whether to head straight for Florence or to go back to France: I was so distraught and undecided that in the end I resolved to join the post and arrive at Florence without delay. I had made no arrangement to travel with the first post; and then I made a firm decision to go and suffer in Florence.

  I parted company with Signor Ippolito Gonzaga, who took the road for Mirandola while I went towards Parma and Piacenza, and after I had arrived at Piacenza I met Duke Pier Luigi in one of the streets. He stared at me very hard and recognized me. Knowing that it was entirely because of him that I had suffered so much in Castel Sant’Angelo, in Rome, I nearly choked when I saw him: but, as I saw no way of slipping through his hands, I decided to go and visit him. I appeared on the scene just after he had risen from eating: he had with him those men of the Landi family who afterwards killed him. When I joined his Excellency the man gave me an incredibly affectionate welcome. Among other things, as he was talking to the people who were present he said that I was at the very top of my profession and that for a long time I had been imprisoned in Rome.

  Then he turned to me and said: ‘Benvenuto, my dear friend, I was very upset over your sufferings. I knew that you were innocent, and I could do nothing to help you, since my father was determined to satisfy some enemies of yours who had even given him to understand that you had been backbiting him. I was certain that there was no truth in this, and I grieved very much for you.’

  He went on and on in this strain to such an extent that it seemed as if he was asking for my forgiveness. Afterwards he asked me about all the work I had done for the Most Christian King: and when I was telling him about it he listened attentively, providing the most gracious audience imaginable. Then he asked me if I would serve him. To this I replied that my honour would not allow me to do so, though if I had left all the important works of art I had begun for the great King in a finished state I would rather serve his Excellency than any other great lord.

  Let me say here how the power of God is such that no man – no matter who he is – who inflicts injustice and wrong on the innocent is left unpunished. This man, in effect, begged my pardon, in the presence of those who shortly after avenged me and all the many others who had been treacherously oppressed by him: so no lord, however great he is, should make a mockery of God’s justice, as is done by some I know, who, as I shall describe when the time comes, have behaved brutally towards me.

  There is no motive of worldliness in my writing down these affairs of mine; all I want to do is to give thanks to God for rescuing me from so many great afflictions. In the trials by which I am continually afflicted I appeal to Him, I call on His protection and commend myself to Him. And always, after I have relied on myself as much as possible, when I begin to falter and my feeble strength is insufficient, straight away God’s great power reveals itself: it acts unexpectedly on those who sinfully oppress others and on those who misuse the great and honourable duties God has laid upon them.

  I went back to the inn where I found that the Duke had sent me a vast quantity of very excellent food and drink. I ate with a keen appetite; then I mounted my horse and set off towards Flo
rence. When I arrived I found there my sister and her six young daughters, ranging from one who was ready for a husband to one who was still at nurse. Her husband, who as a result of certain events in the town no longer worked at his trade, was there with her.

  Over a year before I had sent back some jewels and some gold ornaments made in France, which were worth more than two thousand ducats; and I had brought with me some more, worth about a thousand crowns. I discovered that although all the time I had been giving them four gold crowns a month, they also regularly made an income out of selling some of my jewellery day by day. But that brother-in-law of mine was such an upright man that for fear of arousing my anger – and seeing that the money I sent him by way of a free allowance was not enough – he had pawned nearly all he had in the world, letting himself be eaten up by interest rather than touch the money which was not really his. By this I recognized how honest he was, and I determined to do more for him and I also intended to make provision for all his daughters before I left Florence.

  At that time our Duke of Florence was at Poggio a Caiano, a place ten miles distant from Florence: it was the month of August, 1545. I went there to find him, with the sole purpose of paying my proper respects, seeing that I too was a Florentine citizen and my forefathers had been great friends of the House of Medici, and I more than any of them loved Duke Cosimo.273

  As I said, I went to Poggio only to pay my respects and without the slightest intention of staying with him, as turned out to be God’s will, who orders all things for the best. When I encountered the Duke he greeted me with tremendous affection, and then he and the Duchess274 asked me about the work I had done for the King: I was only too pleased to tell him the whole story. After I had finished he said that he had understood as much and that I had spoken the truth; then he added with a gesture of sympathy:

  ‘What a small reward for all your great and wonderful toil! My dear Benvenuto, if you were to do something for me I would reward you in a way very different from the way that King, whom your good nature makes you praise so much, has done.’

  At this I went on to mention the great obligations I was under to his Majesty, who had rescued me from such unjust imprisonment and then given me the chance to do more splendid work than any craftsman of my kind had ever been able to undertake. While I was talking in this fashion the Duke twisted and turned and looked as if he could not wait for me to finish. When I did finish he said: ‘If you do some work for me, I’ll treat you so generously that I imagine you’ll be astonished: provided your work pleases me, and of that I have no doubt at all.’

  Then I, poor wretch, in my eagerness to show the splendid Florentine school275 that since my departure I had been engaged far more than it imagined on other branches of art, said in reply that I would be only too pleased to make him a great statue, either in marble or bronze, for that fine piazza of his. He answered that all he wanted as my first work for him was a Perseus; he had been wanting this for a long time, and he begged me to make him a little model of it.

  I gladly set to work on the model and in a few weeks I had finished it. It was about a cubit in height, in yellow wax, properly finished, and beautifully made with great care and skill.276 The Duke came to Florence, but several days passed before I had an opportunity of showing him the model, and it seemed just as if he had never seen or known me. As a result I was beginning to feel very downcast about my relations with him. But then one day after dinner, when I had brought it with me into his wardrobe, he came to inspect it, along with the Duchess and a few other noblemen. It pleased him as soon as he had set eyes on it, and he began praising it extravagantly. This rather led me to hope that he knew something about the matter. After he had studied it a good while, becoming more and more delighted, he said:

  ‘My dear Benvenuto, if you produce a large work which is as excellent as this little model it will be the finest work on the piazza.’

  ‘Your Excellency,’ I replied, ‘there are works on the piazza277 by the great Donatello, and by the marvellous Michelangelo, and those two men have proved themselves the greatest artists since the time of the ancients. But as your Most Illustrious Excellency is very enthusiastic about my model let me say that I have it in me to produce a work that will be three times better still.’

  At this there was no little argument, because the Duke kept saying that he was quite expert on the matter and that he was perfectly aware of what could be done. So I told him that what I produced would settle both his doubts and the argument, and that I would certainly achieve for him something that would be far greater than I promised: but, I said, he must provide me with the means to do so, since I could not provide him with the great work I had promised unless he did. His Excellency answered that I should petition him for the amount I needed, and that I should give in detail all I required; then, he said, he would see to it that my petition was granted in full. Certainly, if I had been astute enough to secure by contract all that I needed in my work I would not have had all the trouble that came to me through my own fault; for he was tremendously insistent on having the work done and on making the arrangements. But not realizing that this lord behaved more like a merchant than a duke, it was as with a duke rather than a merchant that I dealt with him.

  I made my petitions, and his Excellency responded very liberally.

  In them I said: ‘Most rare patron, the real petition and the real agreement do not consist in these words or in these documents, they depend on how far I succeed in doing the work as I promised: and if I do succeed, then I am certain that your Most Illustrious Excellency will remember only too well all that you promised me.’

  His Excellency was delighted with these words, and with the way I acted and expressed myself; and both he and the Duchess heaped favours on me to an unimaginable extent.

  I was extremely anxious to start work, and so I told his Excellency that I was in need of a house where I could accommodate myself and my furnaces, some for the work to be done in clay or bronze and others, separate, for the work in gold and silver. I said that I knew he understood how eager I was to serve him in these branches of my art, and that I needed suitable rooms to do so. And in order that his Excellency might see how keen I was to serve him, I added, I had already found the house that suited my purpose, and it was in a locality that I found very attractive. And as I did not want to trouble his Excellency for money or anything else before he had seen my work, I begged him to buy me the house with two jewels that I had brought from France, and to keep them till I earned the house by the work of my own hands. These jewels had been beautifully set by my workmen, following my own designs. When he had examined them for some time he said to me encouragingly, in a way that filled me with false hope:

  ‘Take your jewels, Benvenuto: I want you, not them, and you shall have your house for nothing.’

  Then he wrote a rescript278 under my petition which I have always kept; the rescript read as follows: ‘Let the house be seen, and let it be ascertained whose it is to sell, and the price that is asked, for we desire to please Benvenuto.’

  I imagined that with this rescript I was sure of the house, seeing I was convinced that my work would be much more pleasing than I had promised. His Excellency had afterwards given express orders to a certain majordomo of his, who was called Ser Pier Francesco Riccio.279 He was from Prato and had acted as some sort of tutor for the Duke. I spoke to this beast and told him about what I needed, how there was a kitchen-garden by the house where I wanted to build a workshop. Straight away he handed my business over to a contractor, a lean, harsh man called Lattanzio Gorini.280 As the devil would have it, this little pipsqueak, with his spidery hands and tiny gnat’s voice, had stones, and sand, and lime brought along: he was as quick about it as a snail and sufficient quantities were delivered to build a pigeon-house, though with some difficulty.

  I began to despair at the crawling pace that things were going at, but I said to myself: ‘Sometimes little beginnings lead to great ends.’ And besides this I found cause for hope
in the fact that the Duke had thrown away so many thousands of ducats on some abortive works of sculpture from the hand of that beast of a blockhead Bandinello. So I cheered up a little, and gave that Lattanzio Gorini a poke in the backside to make him get a move on; it was just like shouting at a collection of lame donkeys led by a blind boy.

  In the face of all these difficulties, and then using my own money, I had marked out the site for the shop and cleared away the trees and vines. In my usual way I carried on with the project energetically and forcefully. In other matters I was in the hands of the carpenter Tasso, a very good friend of mine. I got him to construct some wooden frames in order to make a start on the great Perseus. This Tasso was a superb artist, in my opinion the best ever in his own craft. But besides this he was a pleasant, happy man, and every time I went to see him he used to greet me with a laugh and a snatch of song, in falsetto. I was already well on the road to despair, because there was news that in France my affairs were going badly, and at the same time I put little hope in my chances at Florence because of the tepid way they were proceeding; but he forced me into listening to at least half of his little song, and in the end I used to find myself cheering up in his company. I forced myself as much as possible to drive away some of my sombre thoughts.

  I had made a start on all the projects I mentioned, and had begun to make more energetic preparations for the building work (part of the lime was already used) when suddenly I was sent for by that majordomo. So I went along and, after his Excellency had had dinner, I found the majordomo in the Clock Hall.281 I greeted him very respectfully, but he replied very coldly, asked me who had installed me in the house, and demanded to know by what authority I had begun building on the site. He said he was astounded at my rash presumption. I replied to this that I had been installed by his Excellency, and that his lordship, in his Excellency’s name, had passed the order on to Lattanzio Gorini, that this Lattanzio had brought the stone, and the sand, and the lime, and had seen to what I wanted, saying that he had been commissioned by his lordship to do so. At this the brute attacked me more sharply than before and said that neither I nor any of the people I had mentioned were telling the truth. So then I lost my temper.