From the library of 
 Frank Simpson 
 

 t 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 BENVENUTO CELLINI 
 
 VOLUME THE FIRST 
 
^ b(j 
 
 1.S . 
 
 ■i 
 
 ^m. 
 
Henvenuto CeMini. 
 
THE LIFE OF 
 
 Benvenuto Cellini 
 
 Betulp STransilatelJ into dijjlisi!) lip 
 JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS 
 
 Second Edition 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 
 VOLUME THE FIRST 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 SCRIBNER & WELFORD 
 
 743 & 745 BROADWAY 
 
 1888 
 
 7 S 88 
 
 'y. 1 
 
THE J. PA!!L r^TTY P.' 
 
 •RI^UM LIBRARY 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I. 
 
 The translator of an autobiography, especially if it be 
 a long one like Cellini's, or like Eousseau's Confes- 
 sions, enjoys very special opportunities for becoming 
 acquainted with the mind and temper of its writer. No 
 other method of study, however conscientious, can be 
 compared in this particular respect with the method of 
 translation ; in no other way is it possible to get such 
 knowledge of a man's mental and emotional habits, to 
 judge the value of his accent and intonation so accur- 
 ately, or to form by gradual and subtle processes so 
 sympathetic a conception of his nature. The translator 
 is obliged to live for weeks and months in close com- 
 panionship with his author. He must bend his own 
 individuality to the task of expressing what is charac- 
 teristic in that of another. He tastes and analyses 
 every turn of phrase in order to discover its exact sig- 
 nificance. He taxes the resources of his own language, 
 so far as these may be at his command, to reproduce the 
 most evasive no less than the most salient expressions 
 of the text before him. In the case even of a poem or 
 a dissertation, he ought, upon this method, to arrive at 
 more precise conclusions than the student who has only 
 been a reader. But when the text is a self-revelation, 
 when it is a minute and voluminous autobiography, he 
 
vi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 will have done little short of living himself for awhile 
 into the personality of another. Supposing him at the 
 same time to be possessed of any discernment, he will 
 be able afterwards to speak of the man whose spirit he 
 has attempted to convey, with the authority of one 
 who has learned to know him iiitus et in cute — bones, 
 marrow, flesh, and superficies. Nor is the translator 
 exposed to the biographer's weakness for overvaluing 
 his subject. He pretends to no discoveries, has taken 
 no brief for or against the character it is his duty to 
 reproduce, has set up no full-length portrait on the 
 literary easel, to be painted by the aid of documents, 
 and with a certain preconceived conception of pictorial 
 harmony. In so far as it is possible to enter into 
 personal intercourse with any one whose voice we have 
 not heard, whose physical influences we have not been 
 affected by, in whose living presence we have not 
 thought, and felt, and acted, in so far the translator 
 of a book like Cellini's Memoirs or Rousseau's Confes- 
 sions can claim to be familiar and intimate with its 
 author. 
 
 II. 
 
 I have recently put myself into these very confidential 
 relations with Cellini, having made the completely new 
 English version of his autobiography to which the 
 following pages serve as introduction. I think that I 
 am therefore justified in once more handling a some- 
 what hackneyed subject, and in rectifying what I have 
 previously published concerning it.^ 
 
 A book which the great Goethe thought worthy of 
 translating into German with the pen of Faust and 
 ^ Henaissance in Italy, vol. iii. ch. viii. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Vll 
 
 Wilhelm Meister, a book which Auguste Comte placed 
 upon his very limited list for the perusal of reformed 
 humanity, is one with which we have the right to be 
 occupied, not once or twice, but over and over again. 
 It cannot lose its freshness. What attracted the 
 encyclopgedic minds of men so different as Comte and 
 Goethe to its pages still remains there. This attractive 
 or compulsive quality, to put the matter briefly, is the 
 flesh and blood reality of Cellini's self-delineation. A 
 man stands before us in his Memoirs unsophisticated, 
 unembellished, with all his native faults upon him, and 
 with all his potent energies portrayed in the veracious 
 manner of Velasquez, with bold strokes and animated 
 play of light and colour. No one was less introspective 
 than this child of the Italian Renaissance. No one was 
 less occupied with thoughts about thinking or with the 
 presentation of psychological experience. Vain, ostenta- 
 tious, self-laudatory, and self-engrossed as Cellini was, 
 he never stopped to analyse himself He attempted no 
 artistic blending of Diclitung und Wahrheit ; the word 
 " confessions " could not have escaped his lips ; a Journal 
 Intime would have been incomprehensible to his fierce, 
 virile spirit. His autobiogi-aphy is the record of action 
 and passion. Suffering, enjoying, enduring, working 
 with restless activity; hating, loving, hovering from 
 place to place as impulse moves him ; the man presents 
 himself dramatically by his deeds and spoken words, 
 never by his ponder ings or meditative broodings. It 
 is this healthy externality which gives its great charm 
 to Cellini's self-portrayal and renders it an imperishable 
 document for the student of human nature. 
 
 In addition to these solid merits, his life, as Horace 
 Walpole put it, is "more amusing than any novel." 
 We have a real man to deal with — a man so realistically 
 
viii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 brought before us that we seem to hear him speak and 
 see him move ; a man, moreover, whose eminently 
 characteristic works of art in a great measure still 
 survive among us. Yet the adventures of this potent 
 human actuality will bear comparison with those of 
 Gil Bias, or the Comte de Monte Oristo, or Quentin 
 Durward, or Les Trois Mousquetaires, for their variety 
 and ever-pungent interest. 
 
 In point of language, again, Cellini possesses an advan- 
 tage which places him at least upon the level of the most 
 adroit romance-writers. Unspoiled by literary training, 
 he wrote precisely as he talked, with all the sharp wit 
 of a born Florentine, heedless of grammatical construc- 
 tion, indifferent to rhetorical effects, attaining unsurpass- 
 able vividness of narration by pure simplicity. He was 
 greatly helped in gaining the peculiar success he has 
 achieved by two circumstances ; first, that he dictated 
 nearly the whole of his Memoirs to a young amanuensis; 
 secondly, that the distinguished academical writer to 
 whose correction he submitted them refused to spoil their 
 ingenuous grace by alterations or stylistic improvements. 
 While reading his work, therefore, we enjoy something 
 of that pleasure which draws the folk of Eastern lands 
 to listen to the recitation of Arabian Nights' enter- 
 tainments. 
 
 III. 
 
 But what was the man himself? It is just this 
 question which I have half promised to answer, imply- 
 ing that, as a translator, I have some special right to 
 speak upon the topic. 
 
 Well, then : I seem to know Cellini first of all as a 
 man possessed by intense, absorbing egotism ; violent, 
 
INTRODUCTION. ix 
 
 arrogant, self-assertive, passionate ; conscious of great 
 gifts for art, physical courage, and personal address. 
 Without having read a line of Machiavelli, he had 
 formed the same ideal of virtu or manly force of char- 
 acter as the author of The Prince. To be self-reliant 
 in all circumstances ; to scheme and strike, if need be, 
 in support of his opinion or his right; to take the law 
 into his own hands for the redress of injury or insult : 
 this appeared to him the simple duty of an honourable 
 man. But he had nothing of the philosopher's calm, 
 the diplomatist's prudence, the general's strategy, or 
 the courtier's self-restraint. On the contrary, he pos- 
 sessed the temperament of a born artist, blent in almost 
 equal proportions with that of a born bravo. Through- 
 out the whole of his tumultuous career these two strains 
 contended in his nature for mastery. Upon the verge 
 of fifty- six, when a man's blood has generally cooled, we 
 find that he was released from prison on bail, and bound 
 over to keep the peace for a year with some enemy 
 whose life was probably in danger ; and when I come 
 to speak about his homicides, it will be obvious that he 
 enjoyed killing live men quite as much as casting bronze 
 statues. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Both the artist and the bravo were characteristic and 
 typical products of the Italian Renaissance. The genius 
 of the race expressed itself at that epoch even more 
 saliently in the fine arts than in scholarship or literature. 
 At the same time the conditions of society daring what 
 I have elsewhere called "the Age of the Despots" 
 favoured the growth of lawless adventurers, who made 
 a practice of violence and lived by murder. Now these 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 two prominent types of the nation and the period were 
 never more singularly combined than in Cellini. He 
 might stand as a full-blown specimen of either. Sen- 
 sitive, impulsive, rash of speech, hasty in action, with 
 the artist's susceptibility and the bravo's heat of blood, 
 he injured no one more than himself by his eccentri- 
 cities of temper. Over and over again did he ruin 
 excellent prospects by some piece of madcap folly. Yet 
 there is no trace in any of his writings that he ever laid 
 his misadventures to the proper cause. He consis- 
 tently poses as an injured man, whom malevolent 
 scoundrels and malignant stars conspired to persecute. 
 Nor does he do this with any bad faith. His belief in 
 himself remained as firm as adamant, and he candidly 
 conceived that he was under the special providence of 
 a merciful and loving God, who appreciated his high 
 and virtuous qualities. 
 
 On one occasion, after a more than customary out- 
 break of violent speech, the Lucchese ambassador 
 remarked to his patron, Cosimo de' Medici, " That 
 Benvenuto of yours is a terrible man ! " " Yes," 
 answered the Duke, " he is far more terrible than you 
 imagine. Well were it for him if he were a little less 
 so, for then he would have possessed much which he 
 now lacks." ^ Cellini reports this speech with satis- 
 faction ; he is proud to be called terrible — a word which 
 then denoted formidable vehemence.^ On another occa- 
 sion he tells us how Pope Paul III. was willing to 
 
 ^ Vita di Benvenuto Cellini, lib. ii. ch. c. 
 
 ^ Compare the following passage from a memorandum written by 
 Cellini : " Mi fu risposto da un gran gentilhuomo di corte, il quale non 
 mi disse alti'o se non che io ero un terribile huomo; e repricandani 
 piti volte questo nome di terribile, io gli risposi che i terribli si erano 
 quegli strumenti che si empierano di incenso sol per honorare Iddio." — 
 Trattali, dsc, p. xlii. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xi 
 
 pardon him for an outrageous murder committed in 
 the streets of Eome. One of the Pope's gentlemen 
 submitted that this was showing unseasonable clemency. 
 "You do not understand the matter as well as I do," 
 replied his Holiness. "I must inform you that men 
 like Benvenuto, unique in their profession, are not 
 bound by the laws." ^ That sentence precisely paints 
 Cellini's own conception of himself; and I believe that 
 something to the like effect may really have been spoken 
 by Pope Paul. Certainly our artist's frequent homi- 
 cides and acts of violence were condoned by great 
 princes, who wished to avail themselves of his excep- 
 tional ability. Italian society admired the bravo almost 
 as much as Imperial Rome admired the gladiator ; it 
 also assumed that genius combined with force of char- 
 acter released men from the shackles of ordinary morality. 
 These points are so clear to any student of the sixteenth 
 century that I need not here enlarge upon them. It 
 is only necessary to keep them steadily in mind while 
 forming an estimate of Cellini's temperament and con- 
 duct ; at the same time we must not run to the conclu- 
 sion that people of his stamp were common, even at 
 that time, in Italy. We perceive plainly from his self- 
 complacent admissions that the peculiar hybrid between 
 the gifted artist and the man of blood which he exhibited 
 was regarded as something not quite normal. 
 
 V. 
 
 Such being the groundwork of Cellini's nature, it 
 follows as a necessary consequence that his self-conceit 
 was prodigious. Each circumstance of his life appeared 
 
 ^ Vita di Benvenuto Cellini, lib. i. cb. Ixxiv. 
 
xii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 to him a miracle. Great thougli his talents were, he 
 vastly overrated them, and set a monstrously exagger- 
 ated value on his works of art. The same qualities 
 made him a fierce and bitter rival : he could not believe 
 that any one with whom he came into collision had the 
 right to stand beside him. This did not prevent him 
 from being a clear-sighted and impartial critic. His 
 admiration for Michel Angelo Buonarroti amounted to 
 fanaticism. He properly appreciated Eaphael, and gave 
 the just amount of praise to Sansovino, Primaticcio, 
 and Rosso — three artists with whom he was not on 
 the best of terms. Nor will any one deny that his 
 unfavourable estimates of Bandinelli and Ammanati 
 were justified. Indeed, contemporaries acknowledged 
 the wholesomeness of his sound, outspoken criticism. 
 When Vasari's abominable frescoes on the cupola of 
 the Florentine cathedral were exposed to view, the 
 witty Lasca wrote as follows : — 
 
 " Pur fra color, che son di vita privi, 
 Vivo vorrei Benvenuto Cellini, 
 Che senza alcun ritegno o barbezzale 
 Delle cose malfatte dicea male, 
 E la cupola al mondo singolare 
 Non si potea di lodar mai saziare ; 
 E la solea chiaraare, 
 Alzandola alle stelle, 
 La maraviglia delle cose belle : 
 Certo non capirebbe or nella pelle, 
 In tal giiisa dipintala veggendo ; 
 E saltando e correndo e fulininando, 
 S' andrebbe querelando, 
 E per tutto gridando ad alta voce, 
 Giorgin d' Arezzo metterebbe in croce." ^ 
 
 ^ " Fain would I recall to life Benvenuto Cellini, who without re- 
 serve or restraint spoke evil of things ill done ; he used to exalt our 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 VI. 
 
 In spite of his vehemence and passion, Cellini had 
 not depth or tenacity of feeling. His amours were 
 numerous, but volatile and indiscriminate. As a 
 friend he seems to have been somewhat uncertain ; 
 not treacherous, but wayward. Hospitable indeed and 
 generous he proved himself by his conduct toward 
 Italians in Paris, and by his thorough-going kindness 
 for the Sputasenni family in Florence. Still, if any- 
 thing, either in love or comradeship, crossed his 
 humour, he sacrificed emotion to vanity. Like many 
 egotistical people, he extended the affection he felt for 
 himself to the members of his immediate family. On 
 the whole, he was a good and dutiful son, although he 
 caused his poor old father great uneasiness by running 
 away from home, because one of his sisters had given 
 his new suit of clothes to his only brother. For this 
 brother, a brave soldier of the same stormy sort as 
 Benvenuto, he entertained at the same time, and 
 always, a really passionate love. The young man, 
 named Cecchino, assassinated a constable in the streets 
 of Eome, and was wounded in the squabble which 
 ensued. He died of the wound ; but though the officer 
 who fired his arquebuse had done this only in self- 
 defence, Benvenuto tracked him down one night and 
 murdered him. Not a syllable of remorse escapes his 
 lips. Men like himself and Cecchino had the right to 
 
 cupola with indefatigable praise as something unique in the world ; he 
 called it the miracle of beauteous masterpieces. Assuredly that man 
 would jump out of his skin with rage to see it thus bedaubed ; leaping 
 and running and fulminating, he would go about the city uttering his 
 indignation at the top of his voice, and would crucify this little George 
 of Arezzo." 
 
xiv INTEODUCTION. 
 
 slay; and if their opponents managed to checkmate 
 such virtuous fellows, they must be punished. The 
 best recorded actions of Cellini concern his conduct 
 toward a sister and six daughters, for whose sake he 
 quitted a splendid situation in France, and whom he 
 supported by his industry at Florence ; yet he does not 
 boast about this sustained and unselfish exercise of 
 domestic piety. He was, finally, much attached to his 
 legitimate children, though almost brutally indifferent 
 about a natural daughter whom he left behind in 
 Paris. 
 
 VII. 
 
 The religious feelings of this singular personage de- 
 serve to be considered. They were indisputably sincere, 
 and I have no doubt that Cellini turned, as he asserts, 
 in all his difficulties with hearty faith to God. But, 
 like the majority of Italians in his age, he kept religion 
 as far apart from morality as can be. His God was not 
 the God of holiness, chastity, and mercy, but the fetish 
 who protected him and understood him better than 
 ungrateful men. He was emphatically, moreover, the 
 God who " aids such folk as aid themselves " — a phrase 
 frequently used in these Memoirs. The long and pain- 
 ful imprisonment which Cellini endured without just 
 cause in the Castle of S. Angelo made a deep and, to 
 some extent, a permanent impression on his mind. He 
 read the Bible and composed psalms, was visited by 
 angels and blessed with consolatory visions. About 
 the truth of these experiences there is no doubt. The 
 man's impressible, imaginative nature lent itself to 
 mysticism and spiritual exaltation no less readily than 
 to the delirium of homicidal excitement. He was just 
 
INTRODUCTION. xv 
 
 as inclined to see lieaven opened when dying of misery 
 in a dungeon as to " see red," if I may use that French 
 term, when he met an enemy upon the burning squares 
 of Eome in summer. The only difference was, that in 
 the former case he posed before himself as a martyr 
 gifted with God's special favour, in the latter as a 
 righteous and wronged hero, whose hand and dagger 
 God would guide. There was nothing strange in this 
 mixture of piety and murder. The assassin of Loren- 
 zino de' Medici — whose short narrative, by the way, 
 reads like a chapter of Cellini's Memoirs — relates how, 
 while he was running drenched with blood through 
 Venice after the event, he took refuge in a crowded 
 church, and fervently commended himself to the Divine 
 protection. Homicide, indeed, was then considered a 
 venial error, and several incidents might be cited from 
 this autobiography proving that men devoted to the 
 religious life screened murderers red-handed after the 
 commission of what we should regard not merely as 
 criminal, but also as dastardly deeds of violence. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Among Cellini's faults I do not reckon either base- 
 ness or lying. He was not a rogue, and he meant to 
 be veracious. This contradicts the commonplace and 
 superficial view of his character so flatly that I must 
 support my opinion at some length. Of course, I shall 
 not deny that a fellow endowed with such overweening 
 self-conceit, when he comes to write about himself, will 
 set down much which cannot be taken entirely on 
 trust. His personal annals will never rank as historical 
 material with the Venetian Despatches, however in- 
 
I ;', 
 
 1 i 
 
 xvi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 valuable the student of manners may find them. Men 
 of his stamp are certain to exaggerate their own merits, 
 and to pass lightly over things not favourable to the 
 ideal they present. But this is very different from 
 lying ; and of calculated mendacity Cellini stands almost 
 universally accused. I believe that view to be mistaken. 
 So far as I have learned to know him, so far as I 
 have caught his accent and the intonation of his utter- 
 ance, I hold him for a most veracious man. His veracity 
 was not of the sort which is at present current. It 
 had no hypocrisy or simulation in it, but a lai'ge dose 
 of vainglory with respect to his achievements, and a 
 trifle of suppression with respect to matters which he 
 thought unworthy of his fame. Otherwise, he is quite 
 transparent after his own fashion — the fashion, that is 
 to say, of the sixteenth century, when swaggering and 
 lawlessness were in vogue, which must be distinguished 
 from the fashion of the nineteenth century, when modesty 
 and order are respectable. 
 
 IX. 
 
 What I have called the accent and the intonation of 
 Cellini strikes genuinely upon my ear in the opening 
 sentences of a letter to Benedetto Varchi. It should 
 be premised that this distinguished historian, pQet, and 
 critic was an intimate friend of the great artist, who 
 sent him his autobiography in MS. to read. " It gives 
 me pleasure to hear from your worship," writes Cellini, 
 " that you like the simple narrative of my life in its 
 present rude condition better than if it were filed and 
 retouched by the hand of others, in which case the 
 exact accuracy with which I have set all things down 
 
INTRODUCTION. xvii 
 
 might not be so apparent as it is. In truth, I have 
 been careful to relate nothing whereof I had a doubtful 
 memory, and have confined myself to the strictest truth, 
 omitting numbers of extraordinary incidents out of which 
 another writer would have made great capital." In a 
 second letter to Varchi he describes himself as " bad 
 at dictating, and worse at composing." He clearly 
 thought that his imperfect grammar and plebeian style 
 were more than compensated by the sincerity and 
 veracity of his narration. 
 
 X. 
 
 His own attitude with regard to truth can well be 
 studied in the somewhat comic episode of the Duchess 
 of Tuscany's pearls.^ She was anxious to coax her 
 husband into buying some pearls for her, and entreated 
 Cellini to tell a fib or two in their favour for her sake. 
 " Now," says Cellini, " I have always been the devoted 
 friend of truth and the enemy of lies ; yet I undertook 
 the oflice, much against my will, for fear of losing the 
 good graces of so great a princess." Accordingly, he 
 went with " those confounded pearls " to the Duke, and 
 having once begun to lie, exaggerated his falsehoods so 
 clumsily that he raised suspicion. The Duke at last 
 begged him, as he was an honest man, to say what he 
 really thought. This appeal upset him : " I blushed up 
 to the eyes, which filled with tears ; " and on the instant 
 he made a clean breast of the whole matter, losing 
 thereby the favour of the Duchess, who had been shown 
 in an unpleasing light to her lord and master. The 
 minute account he has left of all his negotiations for 
 
 ^ Vita, lib. ii. ch. Ixxxiii. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
xviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the payment of the Perseus prove in like manner that 
 the one thing Cellini could not do was to gain his ends 
 bj artifice and underhand transactions. On the con- 
 trary, he blurted out the bitter truth, as he conceived 
 it, in hot blood, and clamoured with egregious presump- 
 tion for what his vanity demanded. Not lying, not art- 
 fulness, but arrogance and overweening self-importance 
 are the vices of his character. 
 
 XI. 
 
 His portrait is drawn in this light by contempo- 
 raries. Vasari describes him as " in all his doings of 
 high spirit, proud, lively, very quick to act, and for- 
 midably vehement ; a person who knew only too well 
 how to speak his mind to princes." Bembo, Caro, 
 Martelli, Varchi, speak of him always in terms which 
 would be quite inapplicable to a rogue or a liar. During 
 his imprisonment in S. Angelo, Annibale Caro, who 
 had known him well for several years, wrote thus to 
 his friend Luca Martini : " I have still some hope for 
 Benvenuto, unless his own temper should do him mis- 
 chief, for that is certainly extravagant. Since he was 
 in prison, he has never been able to refrain from saying 
 things in his odd way, which, in my opinion, makes the 
 Prince (Pier Luigi Farnese) uneasy as to what he may 
 do or utter in the future. These follies, far more than 
 any crime he has committed in the past, now compromise 
 his safety." That passage strongly corroborates the view 
 I have presented of Cellini's character. I might quote 
 another letter written by Niccolo Martelli to Benvenuto 
 in France. It begins by paying a tribute to his " dis- 
 tinguished talents and gracious nature," saying that 
 
INTRODUCTION. xix 
 
 any favours lie may receive at the French court will not 
 be equal to his merits, " both as a rare goldsmith and 
 admirable draughtsman, and also as a man of liberal 
 and open conversation with his fellows, free-handed not 
 only to artists and friends, but also to all who seek him 
 out ; esteeming mighty cardinals no more than noble 
 spirits in a humble station, which is really worthy of a 
 nature so generous as yours." These phrases might 
 pass for merely complimentary, did they not so exactly 
 confirm Cellini's own narrative. They give us good 
 reason to believe that what he spoke about himself was 
 the truth. 
 
 XII. 
 
 In the next place I will adduce the opinions of two 
 Italian critics who have been occupied with Cellini's 
 autobiography. Antonio Cocchi, its first editor (Naples, 
 1730), says in his preface: "I will not conceal my 
 belief that there are some things scattered through his 
 narrative in blame of contemporaries to which we ought 
 to lend a somewhat doubting ear. It is not that the 
 author was not an impassioned friend of truth, but he 
 may have accepted vague reports or yielded to con- 
 jectures." This admission is too cautious. It is cer- 
 tain that Cellini wrote his Memoirs in no critical spirit ; 
 and what Cocchi calls " his habit of excessive frankness, 
 his harsh manners, readiness to take affront, and im- 
 placable hatreds," betrayed him into great unfairness 
 when dealing with people whom he disliked. This does 
 not, however, imply of necessity that he fabricated false- 
 hoods ao-ainst the folk he could not tolerate. Truth is ever 
 a more trenchant weapon than mendacity in most cases. 
 When Aretino, that unscrupulous gladiator of the pen. 
 
XX INTEODUCTIOK 
 
 was asked how men miglit best speak evil of their 
 neighbours, he replied : " By telling the truth — by telling 
 the truth." And Cellini understood with keen sagacity 
 this force of plain unvarnished statement. I take it 
 that the most disagreeable things he said of Paul III., 
 of Luigi Pulci, of Baccio Bandinelli, and of Giorgio 
 Vasari were crude verities. The manners of the period 
 and his method of narration justify this conclusion. 
 
 Taking a wider sweep and survey of this subject, 
 Baretti sums up the impression left upon his mind by 
 Cellini's self-portraiture thus : " He has painted him- 
 self as brave as a French grenadier, as vindictive as a 
 viper, superstitious to the last degree, full of eccentricity 
 and caprice ; a pleasant companion among friends, but 
 not susceptible of affectionate attachments ; rather loose 
 in sexual relations, a bit of a traitor without being 
 aware of it ; slightly tainted with spite and envy, a 
 braggart and vain without suspecting himself to be 
 such ; a madcap who firmly believed he was wise, cir- 
 cumspect, and prudent. Fully persuaded that he was 
 a hero, he dashed this picture of himself upon the 
 canvas without a thought of composition or reflection, 
 just as his fiery and rapid fancy prompted. We derive 
 from it something of the same pleasure which we feel 
 in contemplating a terrible wild beast who cannot get 
 near enough to hurt us." 
 
 XIII. 
 
 After these general considerations upon the limits 
 within which Cellini's veracity may be trusted, I pass 
 to some particulars that have been always challenged 
 in his statements. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxi 
 
 Upon the very first pages of the book we are met 
 with an astounding legend relating to the foundation 
 and the name of Florence. Having shown familiarity 
 with previous speculations on the subject, he rejects all 
 other hypotheses in favour of a pure myth, by which 
 the origin of the city is referred to an imaginary 
 ancestor of his own, Fiorino da Oellino, a captain in 
 the army of Julius Caesar. It is needless to say that 
 there is no ground whatever for the legend ; and we 
 can hardly believe that Cellini thought it would impose 
 on any one's credulity. That it flattered his own vanity 
 is certain ; and I suspect from his way of introducing 
 it that the story formed part of some domestic gossip 
 regarding his ancestry which he had heard in boyhood. 
 Many of the so-called Norman pedigrees of our aristo- 
 cracy used to begin with fables hardly less ridiculous. 
 To call this one of Cellini's lies would be as absurd as 
 to deny that it confirms our belief in his childish self- 
 conceit and uncritical habit of mind. 
 
 A more important piece of boasting is usually cast 
 in his teeth. He tells us how he went, upon the 6th 
 of May 1527, to the ramparts of Rome at the moment 
 when the assault of the Imperial troops was being 
 hotly pressed, and how he slew a captain with a well- 
 directed musket-shot. This captain, as he afterwards 
 learned, was the Constable of Bourbon. Now there is 
 nothing to prove whether he did or did not shoot the 
 Constable. He only mentions the fact himself on hear- 
 say, and when he enumerated his past services before 
 the judges who sent him to prison in 1538 he did not 
 mention this feat.^ That he wounded the Prince of 
 Orange by the discharge of a culverin from the Castle 
 of S. Angelo has never been disputed. Indeed, it is 
 
 ^ Vita, lib. i. ch. ciii. 
 
 •^ 
 
x.vii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 quite certain tliat he performed more tlian yeoman's 
 duty as a gunner all through the period of the sack 
 of Rome. In consequence of his excellent soldiership, 
 Orazio Baglioni offered him the captaincy of a band in 
 the army he was collecting for the defence of Florence. 
 Now Bourbon had been shot dead in the assault of 
 Rome upon that foggy morning, and Cellini had cer- 
 tainly discharged his arquebuse from the ramparts. 
 Always posing as a hero in his own eyes, he was 
 gratified to obtain some colour for the supposition that 
 one of his unerring balls had done the deed. If it were 
 possible to put his thoughts about this event into a 
 syllogism, it would run as follows : " Somebody shot 
 Bourbon ; I shot somebody ; being what I am, I am 
 inclined to think the somebody I shot was Bourbon." 
 
 Many of the odd things related by Cellini can be 
 classified as things which really took place, like the 
 accident of the scorpion and the tremendous hailstorm 
 he encountered in the neighbourhood of Lyons. Others 
 may be referred to eommon superstition. I will choose 
 the instance of the salamander, which has often been 
 brought up against him. Here he only informs us that 
 his father gave him a good box on the ears, in order 
 that he might not forget the occasion when he saw 
 something in a wood-fire which his father took for a 
 salamander. 
 
 Not a few of the most striking of his presumed lies 
 turn out, upon inspection, like those of Herodotus, to 
 be simply the best evidence of his veracity. That is to 
 say, when we examine them we find that he had been 
 recording actual phenomena with more than usual 
 powers of observation, but without the power of scien- 
 tifically accounting for them. Being vividly conscious 
 of the fact as he observed it, and at the same time 
 
 ^^a^^ 
 
 mtmm 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 subject to a wrong metliod of interpretation, lie un- 
 consciously proved his veracity by accurately describ- 
 ing what he saw, and then referring it to such causes 
 as were current at his epoch. I will select two examples 
 bearing on this point ; both shall be recorded in his 
 own words. 
 
 The first relates to a portent in the heavens, which 
 he regarded as a sign sent for some fateful warning. 
 After relating how he and his friend Felice had been 
 shooting all day on the Roman Campagna, he proceeds 
 as follows : ^ — " We mounted and rode rapidly towards 
 Rome ; and when we reached a certain gently rising 
 ground — night then had fallen — looking in the direc- 
 tion of Florence, both with one breath exclaimed in 
 the utmost astonishment, ' Oh, God of heaven ! what 
 is that great thing one sees there over Florence ? ' 
 It resembled a huge beam of fire, which sparkled 
 and gave out extraordinary lustre. I said to Felice, 
 ' Assuredly we shall hear to-morrow that something of 
 vast importance has happened in Florence.' " In effect, 
 they did hear that Alessandro de' Medici had been 
 murdered by his cousin Lorenzino. Yet, meanwhile, 
 Cellini has left a striking, though brief, picture of the 
 aurora boreal is which he happened to have noticed. 
 
 The second of these examples is more curious and 
 far more confirmatory of his truth. After those half- 
 delirious experiences in the dungeon of S. Angelo, 
 when he saw visions and thought that angels minis- 
 tered to his sick body, he fancied himself under God's 
 special guidance. As a sign of this peculiar grace, he 
 relates the following circumstance : ^ — " Since that time 
 till now an aureole of glory (marvellous to relate) has 
 rested on my head. This is visible to every sort of men 
 
 ^ Vita, lib. i. ch. Ixxxix. ^ Ibid., ch. cxxviii. 
 
xxiv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 to whom I have chosen to point it out ; but these have 
 been very few. This halo can be observed above my 
 shadow in the morning, from the rising of the sun for 
 about two hours, and far better when the grass is 
 drenched with dew. It is also visible at evening about 
 sunset. I became aware of it in France, at Paris ; for 
 the air in those countries is so much freer from mist 
 that one can see it there far better manifested than in 
 Italy, mists being far more frequent among us. How- 
 ever, I am always able to see it, and to show it to 
 others, but not so well as in the country I have men- 
 tioned." Critics have taken for granted that this is a 
 mere piece of audacious mendacity meant to glorify 
 himself, whereas it is really the record of a very accu- 
 rate but misinterpreted observation. Any one who 
 walks abroad in grassy places when the light is low, 
 as at sunrise or at sunset, can satisfy himself that his 
 shadow cast on dewy sward is surrounded with a rim 
 of glory like a lunar rainbow. But if he goes with 
 companions, he will not see their shadows encircled 
 with the same light, because his own body is the point 
 which focusses the diffused rays.^ He, therefore, might 
 
 ■* On the appearance of this passage in the Fortnightly Review for 
 January, I received a communication from H. D. Pearsall, Esq., of 
 3 Cursitor Street, expressing some interest in my account of Cellini's 
 aureole. He says : — " I observed the phenomenon some years ago in 
 India, and the attendant circumstances were such as you mention. It 
 is curious, as illustrating the want of observation of most people, that 
 I have never yet met with any one but yourself who had observed it.'' 
 In explanation of the aureole he adds : — " It appeared to me that the 
 cause was simply the reflection of the direct rays of the sun from the 
 wet surface of the blades of grass. The reason why a spectator at one 
 side cannot see it would, therefore, not be that the illuminated person's 
 body focussed the diffused rays, but simply the direct consequence of the 
 law of reflection of light (angle of incidence wangle of refraction), so 
 that the reflected rays would reach the eye of the object, but not that 
 
 ■BtfHI 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxv 
 
 vreW imagine that the aureole is given to himself alone; 
 and, in order to exhibit it, he must make his comrade 
 take a place behind him, where the halo becomes at 
 once visible to both. Long before I attended to the 
 above passage in Cellini, I noticed this phenomenon, and 
 pointed it out to friends, finding that some of them 
 were too deficient in powers of observation to perceive 
 it, while others at once recognised the singular and 
 beautiful effect. What makes the example interesting 
 for the light it casts on Cellini's habit of mind is that 
 he starts by saying the aureole surrounds his head, and 
 then very ingenuously proceeds to tell us that it only 
 surrounds the shadow of his head at certain times and 
 in certain places. Those times and places are jusfc 
 what the experience of one who has observed the same 
 phenomena would lead him to expect. Again, he sets 
 up a false theory to explain why he could see it better 
 in France than in Italy. It is not that there is more 
 mist in the latter than the former country, but that 
 low-lying humidity of atmosphere and heavy dews on 
 deep grass are favourable to the production of the 
 
 of any person jit a little distance to one side. The aureole never 
 extended lower than my shoulder, evidently for the same reason," This 
 explanation is so obviously superior to that suggested by my own vague 
 and unscientific phrase in the text, that I am grateful for the per- 
 mission to report it in Mr. Pearsall's own words. It is worth adding, 
 perhaps, that when the object finds himself at a considerable distance 
 from the reflecting surface of wet grass, as when, for instance, he is 
 driving in a carriage above a grassj' meadow, the aureole will extend 
 somewhat lower than his shoulder. This I have observed. 
 
 [Since this note was first published, a friend has pointed out to me a 
 passage in Thoreau's Walden, at the beginning of the article named 
 Babcr Farm, which shows that Thoreaii had observed the phenomenon 
 I have described, and, like me, had connected his observation with 
 Cellini's Memoirs. This confirmatory evidence gives me pleasure, and 
 I am glad to report it.— J. A. S.] 
 
 MOM 
 
 Mt 
 
xxvi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 appearance, and these conditions may be met with 
 more frequently in a country like France than in the 
 provinces of Middle Italy. It was upon the Alpine 
 meadows, where I am now writing, at the season of 
 early autumn frosts, that I first noticed it ; and I can 
 predict with some confidence when it is pretty certain 
 to be reproduced. In my opinion, the very hesitancies 
 of Cellini in this test-passage are undesigned corrobo- 
 rations of his general veracity. A man who deliberately 
 invents something to glorify himself and mystify the 
 world does not go about his work in this fashion. He 
 does not describe a natural phenomenon so exactly that 
 all the limiting conditions, which he regarded as inex- 
 plicable imperfections in the grace conferred upon him, 
 shall confirm the truth of his observation. 
 
 A similar line of reasoning might be adopted with 
 regard to the extraordinary night-scene in the Coliseum. 
 Cellini went thither, firmly believing in ghosts and 
 fiends, in order to raise devils, with a necromancer. A 
 bonfire was lighted and drugs were cast upon the coals, 
 which rolled forth volumes of murky smoke. In the 
 smoke legions of demons appeared. Imagination and 
 the awe-inspiring influences of the place, even if we 
 eliminate a possible magic-lantern among the conjuror's 
 appurtenances, are enough to account for what Cellini 
 saw. He was credulous, he was superstitious ; he was 
 readily exalted to the fever-point of delirium (as in the 
 case of Charon, who obsessed him during his Roman 
 illness, the visions of S. Angelo when his leg was 
 broken, and the apparition of the gravedigger during 
 his short fever on the night of casting Perseus) ; but 
 there is nothing in his confidences to make us suppose 
 that the phantasmagoria of the Coliseum was a deliberate 
 invention. 
 
 iiifl 
 
 mm^m 
 
IKTRODUCTION. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The most convincing proofs of Cellini's trustworthi- 
 Eiess are not, however, to be sought in these minor 
 clletails. I find them far stronger and far more abun- 
 dlant in the vast picture-gallery of historical portraits 
 which he has painted. Parini, while tracing the sali- 
 e;nt qualities of his autobiography, remarked : " He is 
 pjeculiarly admirable in depicting to the life by a few 
 Sialient touches the characters, passions, personal pecu- 
 liarities, movements, and habits of the people with whom 
 ke came in contact." 
 
 Only one who has made himself for long years familiar 
 with the history of Cellini's period can appreciate the 
 extraordinary vividness and truth of Cellini's delinea- 
 tion. Without attempting to do more than record his 
 recollection of what happened to himself in commerce 
 with men of all sorts, he has dramatised the great folk of 
 histories, chronicles, and diplomatic despatches exactly 
 as our best authorities in their more colourless and 
 cautious style present them to our fancy. He enjoyed 
 the advantages of the alcove and the ante-chamber ; 
 and without abusing these in the spirit of a Voltaire or 
 a valet, he has greatly added to our conception of Clement 
 VII., Paul III., Francis I., and Cosimo de' Medici, 
 Grand Duke of Tuscany. Clement driven to his wits' 
 end for cash during the sack of Eome ; Paul granting 
 favours to a cardinal at the end of a copious repast, 
 when wine was in his head ; Francis interrupting the 
 goldsmiths in their workshop at the Petit Nesle ; 
 Cosimo indulging in horse-play with his bufibon Ber- 
 nardone — these detach themselves, as living person- 
 ages, against the grey historic background. Yet the 
 
 ^m 
 
xxviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 same great people, on more ceremonious occasions, or 
 in the common transactions of life, talk, move, and act 
 precisely as we learn to know them from the most 
 approved documentary sources. Take, for example, the 
 singular interview between Paul III. and the Marquis 
 del Vasto, which Cellini interrupted, and when he was 
 used by the former to exhaust the patience of the 
 Spanish envoy.^ Our authorities tell us much about the 
 fox-like shifty nature of the Pope ; and we know that, 
 precisely at this moment, he was eager to preserve his 
 own neutrality between the courts of France and Spain. 
 Cellini, thinking only of his personal affairs, withdraws 
 the curtain from a scene which we feel at once to be the 
 very truth and inner life of history. 
 
 It was not only in dealing with the greatest actors 
 on the world's stage that Cellini showed this keen 
 fidelity to fact. His portraits of the bestial Pier Luigi 
 Farnese, of the subtle and bizarre Lorenzino de' Medici, 
 of the Ferrarese minister Giliolo, of the Florentine 
 majordomo Ricci, of the proud Comte de St. Paul, 
 correspond exactly to what we learn otherwise about 
 them, adding slight significant touches from private 
 information. Madame D'Etarapes and the Duchess 
 Eleanora of Tuscany move across his pages as they 
 lived, the one with the vivacity of a king's insolent 
 mistress, the other with the somewhat sickly and yet 
 kindly grandeur of the Spanish consort to an astute 
 Italian prince. Lesser folk, with whom we are equally 
 acquainted through their writings or biographical 
 notices, appear in crowds upon a lower plane. Bembo, 
 in his dignified retreat at Padua ; Torrigiano, swagger- 
 ing about the Florentine workshops ; Giulio Romano, 
 leading the debauched society of Ptoman artists ; Maitre 
 
 ^ Vita., lib. i. ch. xcii. 
 
 MMtt* 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I^oux, in his Parisian magnificence ; Alamanni, the 
 3i umane and gentle nobleman of letters ; Sansovino, 
 expanding at ease in Venetian comfort ; old Michel 
 A.ngelo, with his man Urbino, in their simple Eoman 
 dwelling ; Bandinelli, blustering before the Duke of 
 riorence in a wordy duel with Cellini, which Vasari 
 also has reported — all these, and how many more 
 besides, are portrayed with an evident reality, which 
 corresponds in each particular to the man as he is 
 otherwise revealed to us by independent evidence. 
 Ytet Cellini had no intention of describing such folk 
 for our benefit. As they happened to cross his life, so 
 lie sketched them with sharp, pungent quill-strokes, 
 always thinking more about his own affairs than their 
 personality. Nothing inspires a firmer confidence in 
 his accuracy as an observer and his veracity as a 
 narrator than the undesigned corroboration given to 
 his portraits by masses of external and less vivid testi- 
 mony. 
 
 This forces me to accept as genuine many of those 
 powerful and humorous descriptions of character which 
 we cannot check. How true to life is the history of 
 young Luigi Pulci, who came to grief in Rome, after 
 wasting exceptional talents in disgraceful self-indul- 
 gence ! That episode reads like a pi^ce justificative 
 in illustration of Aretino's Dialogo delle Corti. The 
 story too of the mad Castellan of S. Angelo, who 
 thought he was a bat, deserves like credence. The 
 ruffianly postmaster at Siena, shot dead by Cellini in 
 a quarrel ; the Milanese simpleton who entreated the 
 sargeon, while sewing up a wound in his mouth, not 
 to close the whole orifice out of spite ; the incomparable 
 dilettante at Ferrara, Alfonso de' Trotti, who made 
 sach a fool of himself about some old models from 
 
XXX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Cellini's vases; Tribolo, the quaking coward; Busbacca, 
 the lying courier ; Cellini's father, with his fixed idea 
 about Benvennto's flute - playing ; Ascanio and his 
 sweetheart hidden in the head of the great statue of 
 Mars at Paris — hundreds of such rapidly traced silhou- 
 ettes, with all the force of life and all the comicality 
 of satiric genius, cross these pages and enliven them 
 at every turn. We have faith in their veracity, 
 partly because they correspond to human nature in 
 the times which Cellini knew, and partly because his 
 descriptions of character, when verified by external 
 evidence, are found so faithful. 
 
 XV. 
 
 The trustworthiness of Cellini's Memoirs might be 
 submitted to yet another test. Numerous details, as, 
 for instance, the episode of his brother's death and 
 what he says about Foiano's starvation in S. Angelo, 
 are supported by Varchi's History of Florence. His 
 own private memoranda and official petitions to the 
 Duke of Florence confirm the main records of his life 
 in that city. The French letters of naturalisation and 
 the deed conferring on him the lordship of Le Petit 
 Nesle are in existence. Signer Bertolotti's and the 
 Marchese Campori's researches have established the 
 accuracy of his narrative regarding his life in Eome and 
 his relations to the Cardinal of Ferrara.^ But it would 
 occupy too much space to pursue this line of investiga- 
 tion with the scrupulous thoroughness, without which 
 such arguments are unconvincing. Enough has perhaps 
 
 ^ Benvemito Cellini a Jtoma, (tc. Arch. Stor. di Roma, iSy $. Notizie 
 inediie delle rdazioni tra il Cardincde Jpp. d'Este e B, C, Modena, 1862. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxxi 
 
 been said in this place upon the topic of the man's 
 veracity. What I have attempted to demonstrate is, 
 tih.at he did not mean to lie, and that we possess strong 
 confirmatory testimony to the truth of his statements 
 a,nd the accuracy of his observation. This does not 
 inmply that a man of his violent passions and egregious 
 v'a,nity is always to be trusted, either when he praises 
 hiis own performance or depreciates his sworn foes. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 A different class of problems have to be faced when 
 w-e seek to estimate how far Cellini can be justly called 
 either a rogue or a villain. I have admitted in my 
 general review of his character that he was capable of 
 suppressing portions of the truth respecting matters 
 which involved his own ideal of a manly reputation ; 
 although I am inclined to trust his narrative on all 
 points openly related. 
 
 Now there are two important passages in his life 
 which might be challenged as imperfectly explained by 
 him, and which are therefore ex hypothesi suspicious. 
 The first of these is the long imprisonment in S. 
 Angelo at Eome ; the second is his final departure 
 from France, 
 
 The account which Cellini gives of the former 
 episode is that he had been calumniated to Pope Paul 
 III., and had furthermore incurred the hatred of Pier 
 Luigi Farnese.^ At the same time he states that his 
 first examination before judges turned upon a charge 
 of having stolen crown jewels amounting to eighty 
 thousand ducat.s, while employed to melt their settings 
 
 ^ Lib. i. chaps. Ixxv. xcii. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 down for Clement VII.^ It seems that a Perugian 
 workman in Cellini's employ informed against him ; 
 and Pier Luigi obtained from his Papal father a grant 
 of this value when it should be recovered. Cellini 
 successfully disposed of the accusation by appealing to 
 the books of the Apostolic Camera, upon which all the 
 articles belonging to the regalia were duly inscribed. 
 He also asked what he could have done with so large 
 a sum as eighty thousand ducats.^ Upon this point it 
 is worth noticing that when Cellini made his nuncupa- 
 tory will some months previous to this imprisonment, 
 he possessed nothing at all approaching to the amount 
 of eighty thousand ducats.^ Also, he relates how he 
 confessed, during the lifetime of Pope Clement, to 
 having kept back a small quantity of gold-filings in 
 the Castle of S. Angelo, for which act he received 
 plenary Papal absolution.* It seems, therefore, certain 
 that Cellini cleared himself before the judges of this 
 charge of peculation ; and nothing more was subse- 
 quently said about it. 
 
 Yet there remains some difficulty in understanding 
 why he was kept so long in prison after the voracious 
 Pier Luigi found that no articles of value could be ex- 
 tracted from him. Are we to believe that Paul III. 
 remained obdurate in his resentment merely because 
 some courtiers told him that Cellini had been laughing 
 at the Pope behind his back ? That is by no means 
 either impossible or improbable, knowing as we do what 
 acts of tyranny a Pope was capable of perpetrating. 
 Varchi, for example, writing his History of Florence 
 under Medicean influence for a Medicean Grand Duke, 
 relates how the last great Medicean Pope, Clement 
 
 •* Lib. i. chap. ci. 
 ^ Ibid,, chap. Ixxxiv. 
 
 2 Ibid., chap. ciii. 
 * Ibid., chap, xliii. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 VII., caused a political antagonist, Fra Foiano, to be 
 starved in the Castle of S. Angelo by daily reducing his 
 ratfciions till the wretch expired of vermin and famine. 
 Now Alessandro Farnese, Pope Paul HI., was in some 
 waiys worse and more dangerous than any of those pre- 
 vioius Pontiffs. He owed his first advancement to his 
 sist.er's shame ; for Giulia la Bella had been the mistress 
 of Pope Alexander VI. During his early manhood he 
 underwent imprisonment in the Castle of S. Angelo for 
 forgery while holding public offices of trust. He was, 
 in f"act, a survivor from the most worldly and most law- 
 les.s days of the Roman Church. But when he obtained 
 the tiara public opinion had begun to undergo a change. 
 Paul III. could not play the part of a Delia Rovere or 
 Borgia openly before the world. His hands, in the new 
 age dawning over Europe, were tied ; the natural move- 
 memts of his youthful years were checked ; the quality 
 he chiefly cultivated was craft. That did not, however, 
 prevent him from being stiff-necked and tyrannical 
 when he could indulge his humour. His bastard, Pier 
 Luigi, Duke of Parma, who was eventually murdered 
 by his outraged subjects, is acknowledged to have been 
 a low rascal of infamous habits. A pair of such people 
 were quite capable of keeping Cellini in prison out of 
 spite and obstinacy. Moreover, we have already learned 
 from Caro's correspondence that well-informed persons 
 in Rome ascribed his prolonged detention to the incor- 
 rigible violence of his language rather than to any past 
 offences. 
 
 With regard to Cellini's final removal from France, 
 a good deal might be said. He informs us that domestic 
 circumstances obliged hira to revisit his native town 
 of Florence. His only sister was married to an aged 
 husband with failing health, who earned nothing for 
 
 VOL. L c 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the family. This couple had six daughters, and Cellini 
 not unreasonably feared that the girls might fall into 
 bad ways unless they were provided for.^ With char- 
 acteristic recklessness, he left the land of his adoption 
 before he had properly squared accounts with King 
 Francis, On the journey from Paris to Lyons something 
 happened which might raise suspicion. Messengers 
 followed our artist, and obliged him to give up three 
 pieces of silver plate and some bullion on the King's 
 account. Cellini asserts that he intended to deposit 
 these valuables at Lyons in an abbey of his old patron 
 the Cardinal of Ferrara, before he left the country. He 
 argues with much show of reason that it would have 
 been impossible to convey a whole mule-load of precious 
 metal out of France under the then strict laws regard- 
 ing exportation. There were farther circumstances con- 
 nected with the King's health at that period which 
 made him unwilling to abandon so much property in 
 Paris under the charge of two Italian workmen. Francis, 
 in the year 1545, was already sinking into premature 
 decrepitude, and his life could not be reckoned on. 
 Cellini's story is therefore plausible and intelligible 
 euough. We know, besides, that he subsequently lost 
 all the effects which he left behind at Paris ; nor have 
 we any reason to doubt that Francis was satisfied 
 with the lengthy statement which he transmitted from 
 Florence.^ Yet the narrative of his departure has ex- 
 posed him to a charge of peculation or of seriously 
 involved accounts in his transactions with the King. 
 I am not aware that sinister light has been thrown upon 
 this matter from French archives. On the contrary, 
 we know that Francis, who sincerely liked him, wanted 
 Cellini to return. What is more, we possess a le:ter 
 
 ^ Lib. ii. chap. I, ^ See Plon, Benvenuio Cellini, p. 67. 
 
INTEODUCTION. xxxv 
 
 written by Duke Cosimo to Caterina de' Medici in 
 
 I S47) the year of her husband's accession to the French 
 
 throne, recommending Benvenuto to his royal cousin, 
 
 an(d expressly setting forth the reasons why the artist 
 
 had left Paris.^ " He came back to this country," says 
 
 the Grand Duke, " in order that his nieces might 
 
 benefit by his talents and assistance ; and I am no less 
 
 plea.sed by this mark of dutiful regard for his family 
 
 than by the beauty of his works." For some reason or 
 
 another, Cellini does not appear to have used this letter. 
 
 Still, twelve years afterwards, the Queen of France again 
 
 req^uired his services. Henri II. died in 1559, and in 
 
 1562 his widow had not yet erected her husband's 
 
 monument. At the latter date her envoy to Florence, 
 
 Baccio del Bene, invited Cellini to complete the work, 
 
 which had been begun by Daniele da Volterra.^ Whether 
 
 he did not care to go, being old and having recently 
 
 married, or whether, as he says, the Duke refused him 
 
 leave, cannot be decided. It is only certain that he 
 
 never returned to France. 
 
 These two episodes are, it seems to me, the two most 
 dubious passages in Cellini's life — those, I mean, upon 
 which a charge of roguery might most plausibly be 
 founded. In the matter of the Pope's jewels he stands 
 acquitted ; but scrupulous critics may still perhaps 
 trace a mystery in the circumstances which attended 
 his quitting the service of King Francis. It is hardly 
 necessary here to refer to a sentence passed on him 
 in 1548 for selling garnets under the pretence that 
 they were rubies.^ The facts are not sufficiently estab- 
 lished. 
 
 ' Bianchi, p. 588. ^ Lib. ii. chap. cxii. 
 
 ^ See Mabelliiii, BcUe Rime di B. C, p. 104, and Montazio, I jiriyio- 
 nieri del Mastio di Vulkrra, p. 200, note. 
 
 
INTKODUCTION. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 After roguery we come now to the question of villainy 
 and violence. When Benvenuto was first captured by 
 the Eoman authorities, they tried, as I have already 
 shown, to convict him on a charge of stealing court 
 jewels. In the course of his interrogation, " that catch- 
 poll of a governor " said to him : " And yet you have 
 murdered several men ! " ^ This had nothing to do 
 with the prisoner's accusation ; but it had, perhaps, 
 something to do with the attitude of his judges ; and 
 so, I imagine, has it a great deal to do with the opinion 
 people of the present day will form of him. It is 
 certain that Cellini himself was not wholly indifferent 
 to his homicides ; for when he thought his throat was 
 going to be cut in Torre di Nona, the memory of them 
 weighed upon his conscience.^ At that moment he had 
 assassinated two men in Eome upon the open streets, 
 namely, the constable who caused his brother's death, 
 and a goldsmith called Pompeo. He had thrice risked 
 the commission of wholesale slaughter, once in Florence, 
 once in Rome, and thirdly at Ferrara ; but these quarrels 
 resulted in no bloodshed. It does not appear that he 
 had killed anybody else, although he severely wounded 
 a man named Ser Benedetto in a sudden fit of rage.^ 
 
 So far, then, according to his own admission, Cellini 
 had only two clear murders on his mind in 1538. 
 Possibly he forgot a few of less importance, for his 
 memory was not always trustworthy about trifles. For 
 instance, when he baptized an illegitimate daughter 
 at Paris in 1543, he calmly remarked : " This was the 
 
 ^ Lib. i. chap. ciii. ^ Ibid., chap. cxv. 
 
 ^ Ibid., chap. Ixvi, 
 
INTRODUCTIOX. 
 
 first child I ever had, so far as I remember." ^ After- 
 wards, he made up to some extent for any previous 
 omi.ssions ; for he informs us with circumstantial details 
 how he killed the postmaster at Siena, and how he 
 disabled two of his enemies at Paris, carving them 
 about the legs and arms with his sword, in order to 
 avoid a homicide and display his skill at fence.^ 
 
 Bloodshed, accordingly, played a prominent part in 
 Benvenuto's life experiences ; and those who are best 
 acquainted with him know that it was hardly his fault 
 if this feature is not more prominent in their records. 
 Paolo Micceri and Baccio Bandinelli, for example, 
 owed their narrow escape from assassination less to his 
 forbearance than to their own want of pluck.^ At this 
 point, then, it is necessary to advance some arguments 
 in kis defence. In the first place, it will be noticed 
 that he speaks with pride and imperturbability about 
 these murderous exploits. Whatever ceremony of phrase 
 he used in describing his departure from Paris, there is 
 nothing of this sort when he comes to relate the details 
 of a homicide. All is candid and above board upon 
 these occasions, except when he exhibits a slight sense 
 of shame at being obliged to waylay his brother's 
 slaver.* The causes of this good conscience are not far 
 to seek. I have already stated that murder at that 
 epoch passed for a merely venial error. It was then 
 esteemed the duty of a vigorous human being to assert 
 his honour by taking the lives of men who had insulted 
 or wronged him in his own judgment, or the lives of 
 sisters and wives who had disgraced his family. The 
 universal records of the age support this statement ; and 
 long after Cellini's death theological casuists defended 
 
 ^ Lib. ii. chap, xxxvii. 
 ^ Ibid., chaps. Ixvi. xxxiii. 
 
 ^ Ibid., chaps, iv. xxviii. 
 * Lib. i. chap. li. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 homicide on both these counts, arguing that honour 
 was a man's life, and that an assault upon his honour 
 was equivalent to an assault with violence upon his 
 person. They justified murder when the member of a 
 religious order vindicated its reputation. They j ustified 
 infanticide when a girl sought to defend her good 
 repute. The casuists did but formulate social customs 
 too prevalent to be suppressed, with the pious view of 
 keeping men whom we call criminals within the pale of 
 Holy Church. Small blame was it then to Cellini if 
 he practised what the doctors preached ! His acts of 
 violence fell under what were then considered honourable 
 categories. He speaks with satisfaction about them, 
 because he plumed himself on their commission, and 
 reckoned upon gaining credit with society. This curious 
 self-complacency reaches its climax in some lines ad- 
 dressed to Bandinelli, who had cast Cellini's murders in 
 his teeth. Cellini answered : " At any rate, the men I 
 have killed do not shame me so much as your bad statues 
 shame you ; for the earth covers my victims, whereas 
 yours are exposed to the view of the world." Little did 
 he imagine how he would be arraigned, after the lapse 
 of full three centuries, by English criticasters for what, : 
 at the very worst, he reckoned splendid crimes ! Mean- 
 while an enormous mass of historical evidence remains 
 to cast explanatory light upon his singular illusion .^ 
 
 It is harder to extenuate Cellini's action upon two 
 occasions when he killed nobody, but indulged an in- 
 fei'nal instinct of revenge. On the first of these occa- 1 
 sions, an innkeeper somewhere near Chioggia crossed 
 his humour about the proper way of paying the host's 
 bill,^ Having paid it overnight, our friend managed to 
 
 1 See my Renaissance in Italy, vol. vi. chaps, v. vi. 
 
 2 Lib. i. chap. Ixxix, 
 
INTRODUCTIOX. xxxix 
 
 slice the man's new beds up with his knife next morn- 
 ing, and decamped, after doing more than fifty crowns' 
 worth of damage. The second is one I cannot here 
 conveniently deal with. It involves the whole episode 
 of Caterina and Paolo Micceri in Paris, over which 
 biographers of Cellini would willingly draw a veil, and 
 the details of which are such as to justify their reticence 
 before the respectable English public.^ The only defence 
 which might be urged for Cellini at this point is the 
 one which Dante used in self-exculpation after break- 
 ing faith with Fra Alberigo on that hideous glacier 
 in the lowest pit of hell.^ In other words, it is neces- 
 sary to invoke the principle that rogues should be 
 unmercifully paid out in their own coin of roguery. 
 But this argument will hardly serve to excuse either 
 Cellini's brutalities or Dante's malice. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The revolting episode of Cellini's dealings with Cate- 
 rina suggests another aspect of his character which 
 must be lightly touched on. Not even a professed 
 apologist can deny that he was reckless in the indul- 
 gence of his sensual appetites. We 'have no evidence 
 that he ever felt the gentler emotions of love for a 
 woman. Perhaps his passion for Angelica comes nearest 
 to a tender or romantic sentiment ; but the grotesque 
 ending of that adventure deprives it of all dignity. On 
 the other hand, women of loose life play a large part in 
 his Memoirs ; and it is clear that he changed mistresses 
 with indiscriminate facility. There is, moreover, reason 
 
 ^ Lib. ii. chaps, xxix.-xxxv. 
 
 ^ Divina Commedia, Inferno, xxxiii. 109-150. 
 
xl INTRODUCTION. 
 
 to believe tliat he was not free from the darker lusts 
 which deformed Florentine society in that epoch.'^ The 
 loves to which he yielded were animal, licentious, almost 
 brutal ; determined to some extent by an artist's feel- 
 ing for beauty, but controlled by no moral sense and 
 elevated by no spiritual enthusiasm. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Passing now from the man to the writer and the 
 artist, we have first to regard Cellini as the composer 
 of one of the world's three or four best autobiographies, 
 and next as the most eminent exponent of the later 
 Italian Renaissance in craftsmanship of several kinds. 
 
 It would be superfluous to quote authorities upon 
 the high esteem in which the Memoirs are held, both 
 for their style and matter, by Italians. Baretti's 
 emphatic eulogy can hardly be called exaggerated : 
 " The Life of Benvenuto Cellini, written by himself in 
 the pure and unsophisticated idiom of the Tlorentine 
 people, surpasses every book in our literature for the 
 delight it affords the reader." 
 
 In truth, without multiplying passages of panegyric, 
 I am confident that every one who may have curiously 
 studied Italian history and letters will pronounce this 
 book to be at one and the same time the most perfect 
 extant monument of vernacular Tuscan prose, and also 
 
 1 Of course he loudly protests his innocence. But his precipitate 
 flight after the affair of Cencio (lib. ii. chap. Ixi.) is suspicious. So is 
 the language used by Bandinelli in his altercation with Cellini (ib. 
 chap. Ixx. ). It must also be added that he was imprisoned in 1556 on 
 a charge of unnatural vice. See Mabellini (Delle Rime di B. C., pp- 
 106, 129) on this point. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 xli 
 
 the most complete and lively source of information we 
 possess regarding manners, customs, ways of feeling, 
 and modes of acting in the sixteenth century. Those 
 who have made themselves thoroughly familiar with 
 Cellini's Memoirs, possess the substance of that many- 
 sided epoch in the form of an epitome. It is the first 
 book which a student of the Italian Renaissance should 
 handle in order to obtain the right direction for his 
 more minute researches. It is the last book to which 
 he should return at the close of his exploratory voyages. 
 At the commencement he will find it invaluable for 
 placing him at the exactly proper point of view. At 
 the end he will find it no less invaluable for testing and 
 verifying the conclusions he has drawn from various 
 sources and a wide circumference of learning. From 
 the pages of this book the Genius of the Renaissance, 
 incarnate in a single personality, leans forth and speaks 
 to us. Nowhere else, to my mind, whether in the 
 frescoes of the Sistine Chapel or on Palladian palace 
 fronts, in Ariosto's cantos or in Machiavelli's disserta- 
 tions, do we find the full character of the epoch so 
 authentically stamped. That is because this is no work 
 of art or of reflection, but the plain utterance of a man 
 who lived the whole life of his age, who felt its thirst 
 for glory, who shared its adoration of the beautiful, who 
 blent its paganism and its superstitions, who represented 
 its two main aspects of exquisite sensibility to form and 
 almost brutal ruffianism. We must not expect from 
 Cellini the finest, highest, purest accents of the Renais- 
 sance. He does not, as an artist, transport us into the 
 heavens of Michel Angelo and Tintoretto. He has 
 nothing of Ariosto's golden melody or Tasso's romantic 
 love-chant. He cannot wield Aretino's lash or Machia- 
 velli's jicalpel of analysis. But his Memoirs enable us 
 
xlii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 to comprehend how those rarer products of the Italian 
 genius at a certain point of evolution were related to 
 the common stuff of human nature in the race at large. 
 For students of that age he is at once more and less 
 than his illustrious contemporaries ; less, inasmuch as 
 he distinguished himself by no stupendous intellectual 
 qualities ; more, inasmuch as he occupied a larger sphere 
 than each of them singly. He touched the life of that 
 epoch at more points than any person who has left 
 a record of his doings. He was the first goldsmith of 
 his time^ an adequate sculptor, a restless traveller, an 
 indefatigable workman, a Bohemian of the purest water, 
 a turbulent bravo, a courtier and companion of princes ; 
 finally, a Florentine who used his native idiom with 
 incomparable vivacity of style. These qualities com- 
 bined in a single personality, strongly marked by 
 specific characteristics, yet peculiar to the sixteenth 
 century in Italy, render him unique as a guide through 
 the labyrinth of that brilliant but perplexing epoch. 
 
 XX. 
 
 The literary merits of Cellini's autobiography demand 
 a passing notice. Notwithstanding the plebeian simpli- 
 city of his language, he has described some scenes with 
 a dramatic vigour and a richness of colouring rarely to 
 be found upon the pages of romance or history. Among 
 these I would call attention to the Roman banquet, 
 during which Diego, dressed magnificently like a woman, 
 won the homage of assembled artists ; to the conjura- 
 tion in the Coliseum ; Cecchino's deathbed ; Benvenuto's 
 vision of the sun while lying sick and hopeless in his 
 dungeon ; the phantom of Charon which haunted him 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 xliii 
 
 throughout a Kngering fever; tlie exhibition of his 
 Jupiter in the great gallery of Fontainebleau ; the 
 Parisian law-court ; and the long episode of his casting 
 the bronze Perseus, His memory was so tenacious that 
 he could present the incidents of bygone years, with all 
 their circumstances, just as though his eye were on the 
 object. Without conscious effort he communicates the 
 atmosphere, the local colour, the specific feeling of each 
 place he visited. Ferrara has a different note from 
 Florence, Eome from Paris, in his narrative. Yet it is 
 •clear that he never took thought about word-painting. 
 'The literary result is not attained by external touches 
 of description, but by the vigorous reproduction of a 
 multitude of impressions made upon his eagerly obser- 
 vant nature. This quality of vivid vision makes itself 
 peculiarly felt in the narrative of his dangerous passage 
 across the Lake of Wallenstadt.^ Here every detail 
 contributes to the presentation of a specifically Swiss 
 landscape — the steep and cavernous cliffs of the Chur- 
 firsten, the dreary rain beating upon precipitous lawns 
 and hanging fir- woods, the night-watchman in the town 
 of Glarus, the sudden breaking of a glorious day upon 
 the Lake of Ziirich, and then the little city of Zlirieh 
 itself — cittd maravigliosa puliia quanto un gioicllo. 
 
 Having already touched upon his power of portrait- 
 painting with the pen, I need not return to that topic. ^ 
 It should, however, be remarked that his method of 
 sketching men resembles his treatment of things and 
 places. There is very little of description. The char- 
 acters present themselves so vividly before our eyes 
 because they were so clearly visible to Cellini's mind 
 while writing, because he so firmly seized what was 
 
 ^ Lib. i, chaps, xcv.-xcvii. 
 
 See above, p. xxviii. 
 
xliv 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 to him essential in their personalities, and so power- 
 fully communicated the impression made upon his 
 sensibilities by contact with them. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Cellini's autobiography might also be studied from 
 the side of humour. Many passages remind us of the 
 Florentine Novelle, notably of the old tale entitled II 
 Grasso Legnaiuolo, and of Lasca's stories about Pilucca 
 and his mischievous companions. Take, for example, 
 the episode of his quarrel with Bernardone, and the 
 burlesque revenge with which he chastised that fellow's 
 coarseness.^ The same note of Florentine bizarrerie 
 distinguishes the less agreeable incident in the tavern 
 near Ohioggia.^ Again, how racy, how native to the 
 soil, is that altercation between Cellini and the old hag 
 in a deserted street of the plague- stricken city ! ^ 
 While posing as a hero, he was able to see the humorous 
 side of himself also. This is shown in the passage 
 where he relates how his good-natured housekeeper 
 bantered him.* But it is enough to have indicated these 
 aspects of the Memoirs. The charm of the whole book 
 very largely consists in a vivacity and elasticity of 
 narrative style, which passes from grave to gay, from 
 passion to mirth, from the serious occupations of the 
 artist to the light amusements of the man of pleasure, 
 without perceptible transitions, the author's own intense 
 individuality pervading and connecting each successive 
 mood. 
 
 ^ Lib. ii. chap. Ixxxix, 
 8 Lib. i. chap. xl. 
 
 ^ Lib. i. chap. Ixxix. 
 * Lib. ii, chap. Ixsvii. 
 
INTKODUCTIOK 
 
 xlv 
 
 XXII. 
 
 After reviewing Cellini's autobiography, it should be 
 mentioned that he appeared in his own lifetime as an 
 author.^ He published two treatises : one upon the 
 goldsmith's art, describing its several processes in 
 detail ; another upon sculpture, with special reference 
 to bronze-foundry. These dissertations are of the 
 highest value for students of Renaissance craftsman- 
 ship, at a time when the experience of centuries had 
 been condensed in the practice and principles of a first- 
 rate master. They rank, moreover, as excellent specimens 
 of sound Italian style applied to the purpose of techni- 
 cal exposition.2 In the next place, we possess the frag- 
 ments of a discourse on Architecture, and a short defence 
 of Sculpture against Painting, from which numerous 
 details regarding the artist's works and theories can be 
 derived. 
 
 Cellini, like every Florentine of many-sided genius, 
 was also ambitious of making his mark as a poet. Some 
 specimens of his compositions will be found translated 
 in the following pages ; and a collection has recently 
 been formed of his scattered verses.^ As might be 
 guessed, they are not the productions of a literary 
 master ; yet they confirm our opinion of his singularly 
 
 ^ The prose works and collected poems may best be studied in 
 Milanesi's edition (Florence, Le Monnier, 1857). Mabellini's little 
 book, Belle Rime cli B, C. (Roma, Paravia, 1885), deserves careful 
 attention for its patient and subtle analysis of Cellini's verses, 
 
 ^ We have good reason to suppose that they were re-written by a 
 man of letters before going to press. Signer Milanesi believes that 
 Gherardo Spini performed this office for the author. See his Trattati, 
 tfcc, Florence, Le Monnier, 1857, p. xvii. 
 
 ^ See Milanesi's edition of the Trattati, cited above. 
 
xlvi 
 
 INTEODUCTIO^^, 
 
 keen and stringent personality. Having received no 
 education in letters, Cellini never learned to write 
 grammatically. His poetry suffers naturally more than 
 his prose from awkward incoherences. He rhymed 
 with difficulty ; frequently tripped in rhythm and 
 accent ; and affected such far-fetched conceits and 
 violent images that a large portion of his sonnets are 
 unintelligible. Of these defects he was fully conscious, 
 speaking with modest humour of his hoschereccia Musa, 
 or untutored rustic inspiration. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Cellini has, finally, to be estimated as an artist in the 
 narrower sense of that word. While approaching this 
 part of our subject, it is worth remembering that he 
 showed in boyhood a strong predilection for the arts of 
 design. His father longed to make him a musician ; 
 but though the lad became a skilful flute-player, he 
 displayed the strongest aversion to this exercise of his 
 talents. On the other hand, his love for drawing and 
 his inborn mastery over technical processes of all kinds 
 made themselves so manifest, that no doubt remained 
 about his real vocation. Like nearly all the greatest 
 Florentine artists before him, sculptors, painters, archi- 
 tects, and engravers, he was put at an early age to the 
 goldsmith's trade. Oreficeria, as then understood, formed 
 an epitome of all the plastic arts.^ The young gold- 
 
 1 Of this relation of Oreficerki to the other arts Cellini himself was 
 fully conscious. He writes as follows : " L' arte dell' orefice, per essere 
 maggior arte di tutte." — Trattati, p. 277- 
 
 He speaks of architecture, sculpture, and painting as "sorelle 
 carnali " of oreficeria. — Ibid., p. 6. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xlvii 
 
 smith did not merely learn how to work in precious 
 metals and to set jewels. He was bound to become 
 acquainted with the mysteries of brassfoundry, the 
 methods of hammering iron, the secrets of chiselling 
 steel for medals and casting dies. He had to make 
 himself an expert draughtsman, to study anatomy, to 
 model from the nude, and to acquire familiarity with 
 antique masterpieces. Enamelling and niello formed 
 special branches of his craft ; nor could architecture be 
 neglected, because he was often called upon to fashion 
 tabernacles, and to execute large works in gold or silver 
 which resembled buildings by their intricacy of design. 
 During the course of this apprenticeship he gained 
 further insight into numerous subordinate processes, 
 such as modelling in wax or stucco, baking terra-cotta, 
 preparing foils for gems. He studied the qualities of 
 precious stones and pearls. He handled every instru- 
 ment, from the hammer of the gold-beater and the 
 chisel of the stone-cutter down to the engraver's burin 
 and the palette of paste-mixers. He had to be as ready 
 at the anvil or the furnace as at the more delicate opera- 
 tions of wire-drawing and filigree manipulation. From 
 the workshop of a master-goldsmith the apprentice went 
 forth able to select his own particular branch of industry. 
 Meanwhile it must not be forgotten that, so long as he 
 remained a goldsmith, he was forced to work in minia- 
 ture. His many technical accomplishments were em- 
 ployed chiefly in producing articles of plate, jewel- 
 lery, and costly furniture. This made him, while he 
 continued in the trade, a servant of popular caprice 
 and fashion, which varied with the change of seasons. 
 Those world-famous masters who, like Ghirlandajo, 
 Donatello, and Brunelleschi, won glory by their subse- 
 quent achievements in painting, sculpture, and archi- 
 
xlviii 
 
 INTEODUCTION. 
 
 tecture, devoted themselves to special studies in the 
 higher arts soon after their prentice- days were over. 
 This was not the case with Cellini. He continued to 
 be a goldsmith in the strict sense of that term until he 
 had completed his fortieth year. This fact has to be 
 taken into account when we criticise his serious efforts 
 in statuary. 
 
 It does not appear that during his early manhood 
 Cellini felt any inclination to abandon the craft which 
 he had chosen in boyhood. Perhaps Nature had not 
 gifted him with those imperative instincts which force 
 some artists to become sculptors or painters. Perhaps 
 the large admixture of the bravo and the pleasure- 
 seeker in his character prevented him from applying 
 to intellectual studies, and from using his technical 
 acquirements as a stepping-stone toward nobler under- 
 takings. It would indeed seem as though he was 
 naturally formed to be a goldsmith, but that ambition 
 led him at an advanced period of life to rival men who 
 had already made their mark in sculpture. At any 
 rate, he exercised his eminent artistic faculties through 
 more than half his lifetime in the humbler trade, earn- 
 ing much money by his undisputed excellence, spend- 
 ing it freely, and forming no plans for the future. In 
 this way he became an adept in all the technicalities of 
 plastic art ; but the heart and soul and vigour of the 
 man found vent through other channels. In 1527, for 
 instance, we know that he was upon the point of throw- 
 ing up his profession and accepting a captaincy under 
 Orazio Baglioni. The bravo and the soldier kept dis- 
 puting with the artist in his nature. Meanwhile he 
 never relaxed his efforts to become the most expert and 
 inventive goldsmith of his time. The defects which 
 are apparent in his more ambitious works, and which I 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 xlix 
 
 s.liall have to point out shortly, may be ascribed to this 
 ciomposite temper and to this prolonged contentment 
 with a subordinate branch of industry. He had the 
 qualities of a consummate craftsman, not those of an 
 imaginative artist, who is led irresistibly to dedicate 
 his life with all its energies to the ideal. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Few of Benvenuto's masterpieces in jewellery and 
 goldsmith's work survive.-^ Artists who aspire to im- 
 mortality should shun the precious metals. The same 
 fate has probably befallen Cellini's handiwork as befell 
 the jewels he took to pieces in the Castle of S. 
 Angelo. Critics have blamed his callousness on that 
 occasion ; but he knew well that it is of no use to waste 
 a sigh over things in their nature so ephemeral as gold 
 and silver settings. Still, some authentic pieces of his 
 workmanship may be inspected in the collections of 
 Florence, Vienna, Paris, Munich, and Saxe-Coburg- 
 Gotha. Perhaps the most interesting are the golden 
 salt-cellar at Vienna and the medallions of Clement 
 VII. and Alessandro de' Medici, since these are minutely 
 described for us in his Memoirs. 
 
 In technical excellence, as regards all processes of 
 handling, chasing, and engi'aving, setting and mount- 
 ing precious stones, enamelling metals, and adapting 
 ingenious designs with bold invention to the special 
 purpose of the object, these rare remnants of Cellini's 
 
 ^ The exhaustive work of M. Eugene Plon, Benvenuto Cellini, Orfevre, 
 Medailleur, Sculptcur, Paris, 1883, contains a complete catalogue of 
 authentic and doubtful pieces. 
 
 VOL. I. d 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 art defy competition. It must, however, be admitted 
 that, even while working on a small scale, he displayed 
 more manual dexterity and more ornamental luxuriance 
 than any of the higher intellectual gifts. The man, 
 as he stands revealed in his autobiography, was lack- 
 ing in reserve, in delicacy, in fineness of emotion, 
 in what the Germans call Innigkeit, in elevation of 
 soul and imaginative purity. The very qualities which 
 render his life-history dramatic prove the externality of 
 his nature, the violence and almost coarseness of his 
 temperament, the absence of poetry, reflection, reverie, 
 and spiritual atmosphere in his whole being. We 
 are not, therefore, surprised to find that his artistic 
 work, in spite of its prodigious skill, fecundity of 
 invention, energy, and thoroughness of execution, is 
 deficient in depth, deficient in sweetness, deficient in 
 true dignity and harmony, deficient in those suggestive 
 beauties which inspire a dream and waken sympathy 
 in the beholder. 
 
 Shortcomings of this kind in the moral and intel- 
 lectual elements of art were not peculiar to Cellini. 
 They mark nearly the whole productions of his epoch. 
 Only at Venice did the really grand style survive in the 
 painting of Titian, Veronese, and Tintoretto. Michel 
 Angelo indeed was yet alive in 1543, the year when 
 Benvenuto essayed works on a large scale in sculpture ; 
 but Michel Angelo's greatest achievements belonged 
 to the past. Giulio Komano retained something of 
 the sacred fire which animated his master Eaphael's 
 pictures. His vigorous but coarse and soulless frescoes 
 may be properly compared with Cellini's statuary. 
 Meanwhile, the marbles of Bandinelli and Ammanati, 
 the manneristic productions of Montelupo and Mon- 
 torsoli, the slovenly performances of Vasari, the cold 
 
INTRODUCTION. li 
 
 and vacuous paintings of Bronzino, reveal even a lower 
 spiritual vitality. The lamp of plastic art liad burned 
 low in Italy. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 When Cellini left the sphere of jewellery and gold- 
 smith's work, that emptiness of emotional and moral 
 intention on which I have been dwelling became even 
 more apparent. It was during his second visit to 
 France, in the year 1543, that he aspired to be a 
 sculptor in the strict sense of the word. At Paris he 
 began to cast statues on a large scale in bronze, and to 
 design colossal works combining statuary and archi- 
 tecture. Of the clay models for the fountain at Fon- 
 tainebleau, with its gigantic Mars, so minutely described 
 in his autobiography, nothing, so far as I am aware, is 
 now extant. But we still possess the Nymph, which 
 was transferred from Fontainebleau by Henry II. to 
 Diane de Poitier's country-seat at Anet, and thence 
 removed to the galleries of the Louvre, where it may 
 now be seen. The defects of this recumbent figure are 
 obvious. Though it might pass muster on a candle- 
 stick, the model, expanded to something over life-size, 
 reveals a fatal want of meaning. The vacant features, 
 the defective physical structure, and the inert pose of 
 this nude woman are not compensated by the success 
 of Benvenuto's casting, which is indeed remarkable. 
 All the bad points of the later Florentine school appear 
 here — a preposterous elongation of the body, an affected 
 attenuation of the joints and extremities, and a com- 
 plete absence of expression. 
 
lii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 It was not perhaps Cellini's fault that, having worked 
 till past forty as a goldsmith, he should fail to produce 
 an ideal statue at the first attempt. We ought rather 
 to note with admiration his industry in the pursuit of 
 this new aim, and the progress he afterwards made 
 under great difficulties at Florence. His sojourn at 
 Paris in the service of King Francis somewhat spoiled 
 him as a man, but powerfully stimulated his energies 
 as an artist. After his return to Italy, he was always 
 more or less discontented with his lot ; but he never 
 ceased to be ambitious. From that last period of his 
 active life (i545-i559) ^^Q eminent specimens of 
 sculptor's work remain. One of these is the large 
 bronze bust of Duke Cosimo, now to be seen in the 
 Palazzo del Bargello at Florence. It is an unsympa- 
 thetic and heavy piece of portraiture, but true to the 
 character of the model. A second is the bust of Bindo 
 Altoviti in the Palazzo Altoviti at Kome. Another is 
 the antique statue in the Uffizzi, restored by Benvenuto 
 for a Ganymede. He had to supply the head, arms, and 
 part of the legs of this fragment. The marble, so far as 
 I remember, is well wrought, but the motive of the re- 
 stored figure shows a misconception of classical art. 
 The boy's head, to begin with, is like some wax block 
 in a barber's window — expressionless, simpering, and 
 crisply curled. Then, instead of lifting the cup for Jove 
 to drink from, this Florentine Ganymede teases a fawn- 
 ing eagle at his side by holding up a goldfinch for the 
 royal bird to peck at. Before speaking of the Perseus, 
 which is Cellini's masterpiece, I must allude to his 
 Crucifix in white marble. This he esteemed one of his 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 liii 
 
 best productions, and we have abundant evidence to 
 prove that folk in Florence were of his opinion. It still 
 exists in the Escorial, whither the Grand Duke sent it 
 as a present to Philip II. of Spain. Not having seen 
 the Crucifix, I can pass no judgment on its artistic 
 quality or value as a piece of Christian sculpture. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Cellini's most substantial title to fame rests, and must 
 always rest, upon his Perseus, that dramatic bronze so 
 superbly placed upon its pedestal in the Loggia de' Lanzi, 
 fronting the great piazza of Florence. Until quite 
 recently this statue stood in close proximity to Michel 
 Angelo's David. It still challenges comparison with 
 Donatello's Judith, the Hercules and Cacus of Bandi- 
 nelli, Ammanati's Neptune, and Gian Bologna's Rape of 
 the Sabines, Surrounded by these earlier and contem- 
 porary performances of the Florentine school, the Perseus 
 holds its own with honour. It lacks, indeed, the severe 
 pregnancy and sombre reserve of Donatello's style. It 
 misses the athletic simplicity and massive strength of 
 Michel Angelo's hero. But it has something of fascina- 
 tion, a bravura brilliancy, a sharpness of technical pre- 
 cision, a singular and striking picturesqueness, which 
 the works of those elder masters want. Far above 
 Gian Bologna's academical group of two naked men 
 and a naked woman, above the blatant incapacity of 
 Bandinelli and the dull pomposity of Ammanati, the 
 Perseus soars into a region of authentic, if not pure or 
 
 ^ The fine engraving of this crucifix in Plon's book (planche xx.) 
 suggests that Cellini aimed at a realistic representation of physical 
 exhaustion. 
 
liv 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 sublime, inspiration. No one who has seen it once will 
 forget that ornate figure of the demigod, triumphant in 
 his stately" pose above the twisted corpse of the decapi- 
 tated Gorgon. 
 
 Much might be urged in depreciation of Cellini's 
 Perseus. Contrary to the traditions of later Florentine 
 design, the hero's body is too thick, his limbs too coarse, 
 and his head too large for statuesque dignity. Why 
 this should be so tempts our curiosity; for the small 
 wax model made by Cellini, and now preserved among 
 several precious relics of like sort in the Palazzo del 
 Bargello, exhibits the same figure with longer and 
 slimmer proportions. There the Perseus stands as light 
 and airy as Gian Bologna's Mercury, without any loss of 
 his superhuman vigour. I have sometimes indulged 
 the conjecture that Benvenuto deliberately shortened 
 and thickened his statue with the view of working it in 
 bronze. We know that he was anxiously preoccupied 
 with the problem of casting the whole figure in such 
 wise that the liquid, metal should fill all parts of the 
 mould, from the upraised head of Medusa to the talaria 
 and feet of Perseus, at one jet. He succeeded in this 
 tour de force of technical dexterity. But possibly he 
 sacrificed the grace and elevation of his own conception 
 to the ambition of the craftsman. Be this as it may, 
 the first defect to notice in the Perseus is this of physical 
 vulgarity. Then the face is comparatively vacant of 
 expression, though less so than with many of the master's 
 works. Next, the helmet is surcharged with ornament, 
 and the torso displays many meaningless muscular details. 
 But after these criticisms have been made, the group — 
 that is, the conquering hero and the prostrate Gorgon — ■ 
 remains one of the most attractive products of modern 
 statuary. We discern in it the last spark of genuine 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Iv 
 
 Italian Renaissance inspiration.^ It is Still instinct with 
 the fire and bizarre force of Florentine genius. 
 
 The pedestal has been, not altogether unjustly, blamed 
 for being too small for the statue it supports. In pro- 
 portion to the mass of bronze above it, this elaborately 
 decorated base is slight and overloaded with super- 
 fluous details. Yet I do not feel sure that Cellini might 
 not have pleaded something in self-defence against our 
 criticism. No one thinks of the pedestal when he has 
 once caught sight of Perseus. It raises the demigod 
 in air; and that suffices for the sculptor's purpose. 
 Afterwards, when our minds are satiated with the 
 singular conception so intensely realised by the endur- 
 ing art of bronze, we turn in leisure moments to the 
 base on which the statue rests. Our fancy plays among 
 those masks and cornucopias, those goats and female 
 Satyrs, those little snuff-box deities, and t]ie wayward 
 bas-relief beneath them. There is much to amuse, if 
 not to instruct or inspire us there. 
 
 Although the Perseus may not be a great work of 
 plastic design, worthy of sculpture in its best periods, 
 it can never cease to be the most characteristic product 
 of the vehement, ambitious artist's soul which throbbed 
 in the writer of Cellini's Memoirs. It remains the final 
 effort of Florentine genius upon the wane, striking a 
 last blow for the ideals, mistaken, perchance, but man- 
 fully pursued, which Florence followed through the seve- 
 ral stages of the Eenaissance. 
 
 ^ The works of Jean Boullogne of Douai, commonly called Gian 
 Bo'ogna, which are somewhat later in date than Cellini's, ought perhaps 
 to have been mentioned as exceptions in the sentence above. 
 
Ivi 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Cellini's autobiography circulated in MS. and was 
 frequently copied before its first committal to the press 
 in 1730. The result is that the extant MSS. differ 
 considerably in their readings, and that the editions, 
 of which I am acquainted with six, namely, those of 
 Cocchi, Carpani, Tassi, Molini, Bianchi, and Oaraerini, 
 have by no means equal value.^ The one to be gene- 
 rally recommended is that of Signor B. Bianchi, founded 
 upon the preceding edition of Molini. Tassi and 
 Molini, I must state, were the first editors to avail 
 themselves of the original or parent codex, while Bianchi 
 
 ^ I. Antonio Cocchi's edition was printed at Naples in 1730, with 
 the date Colonia. 2. Gio, Palamede Carpani's was printed in three 
 vols, at Milan, Soc. Tip. de' Classici Italiani, in 1806. 3. Francesco 
 Tassi's appeared at Florence, Guglielmo Piatti, in three vols., 1829. 4. 
 Giuseppe Molini's appeared at Florence, Tipogr. all' insegna di Dante, 
 in two vols., 1832. This edition had been preceded by a duodecimo 
 text published by Molini on the 30th of December 1830, simultaneously 
 with Tassi's above mentioned. When Molini compared Tassi's text 
 with the Laurentian MS., he saw that there was room for a third edition 
 (that of 1832), more exact than either. 5. B. Bianchi's appeared at 
 Florence, Le Monnier, one vol., 1852. 6. That of Eugenio Camerini, 
 Milan, Sonzogno, 1886, is a popular reprint, with an introduction and 
 some additional notes. The text which I have principally used is 
 Bianchi's. I may here take occasion to explain that the notes appended 
 to my translation have to a large extent been condensed from the 
 annotations of Carpani's, Tassi's, and Molini's editions, with some 
 additional information derived from Bianchi, Camerini, and the valu- 
 able French work of Plon {B. C, Or/evre, Medailleur, Sculpteur, Paris, 
 1883). A considerable number of notes have been supplied by myself, 
 partly upon details respecting the Italian text, and partly upon points 
 connected with hi.story and technical artistic processes. It does not 
 seem necessary, after this acknowledgment, to refer each item to the 
 original sources which have been successively incorporated into a 
 variorum commentary on the Memoirs, or to indicate the portion I can 
 claim for my own researches. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Ivii 
 
 compared Molini's printed text throughout with the 
 autograph. This authoritative MS. belongs to the 
 Laurentian collection in Florence. It was written for 
 tlie most part by Michele di Goro Vestri, the youth 
 whom Cellini employed as his amanuensis ; in some 
 parts also by himself, and again by a second amanu- 
 ensis. Perhaps we owe its abrupt and infelicitous con- 
 clusion to the fact that Benvenuto disliked the trouble 
 of writing with his own hand. From notes upon the 
 codex, it appears that this was the MS. submitted to 
 Benedetto Varchi in 1 5 59. It once belonged to Andrea, 
 the son of Lorenzo Cavalcanti. His son, Lorenzo Caval- 
 canti, gave it to the poet Eedi, who used it as a testo di 
 lingua for the Delia Oruscan vocabulary. Subsequently 
 it passed into the hands of the booksellers, and was 
 bought by L. Poirot, who bequeathed it, on his death 
 in 1825, to the Laurentian Library.^ 
 
 The autobiography has been translated into German 
 by Goethe, into French by Leopold Leclanche, and into 
 English by Nugent and Eoscoe. The German version, 
 I need hardly say, is an excellent piece of pure and solid 
 style; and, for the most part, I have found it reproduce 
 the meaning of the original with fidelity. The French, 
 which appeared subsequently to a version of Vasari by 
 the same translator, displays a more intimate familiarity 
 with sixteenth-century Italian than Goethe's ; but it 
 is sometimes careless, especially toward the conclusion, 
 showing that the writer did not always choose to follow 
 Cellini in his redundancies of phrase. Of the English 
 version which bears the name of Thomas Eoscoe, son 
 to the distinguished author of the Lives of Lorenzo de' 
 Medici and Leo X., 1 am unable to speak very highly. 
 
 ^ See Tassi, vol. i. pp. xix.-xxiv. ; and Molini, vol. i. pp. vi.-ix., for 
 th.e history of this MS. 
 
Iviii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 It has the merit of a sound old-fashioned style, but it is 
 grossly inaccurate ; the unintentional misunderstand- 
 ings of the text are innumerable, and the translator has 
 felt himself at liberty to omit or to misrepresent whole 
 passages which he deemed unfit for ears and eyes 
 polite. Since my excuse for offering a new translation 
 to the English public rests upon the deficiencies of 
 Roscoe, I must be permitted to point out a few of his 
 errors in this place. 
 
 To begin with, although Mr. E,oscoe in his preface 
 declares that he has adhered closely to the original text 
 published by Molini, he deals unscrupulously with some 
 important passages. For example, he blurs the incident 
 of Faustina and her waiting-maid recorded in Book i. 
 chap. xxix. He suppresses the episode of Paolo Micceri 
 and Caterina in Book ii. chaps, xxx., xxxiii.-xxxv. 
 He confuses the story of Cencio and La Gambetta in 
 Book ii. chap. Ixi. It is true that he might defend his 
 action on the score that these passages are unedifying 
 and offensive; but he ought to have indicated the 
 nature and extent of his modifications and omissions. 
 Personally, I am of opinion that if a book is worth 
 translating, it ought to be set forth at full. Upon this 
 principle I have made my own version, feeling that it 
 is not right to defraud English readers of any insight 
 into the conditions of society in the sixteenth century, 
 or of any insight into the character of Cellini him- 
 self, which these Memoirs may afford. Here, however, 
 there is room for various judgments ; and some critics 
 may maintain that Roscoe chose the more expedient 
 method. 
 
 Upon the point of accuracy, on the other hand, all 
 competent judges will be agreed. I therefore proceed 
 to select a few test-passages which will show how little 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 lix 
 
 Roscoe's translation is to be relied upon. In each case 
 I will first copy the Italian, next add a literal version, 
 and finally give Eoscoe's words : — 
 
 Questo cartone fa la prima bella opera che Michel Agnolo 
 inostr5 delle maravigliose sue virtii, e lo fece a gara con un altro 
 che lo faceva. {Bianchi, p. 22.) 
 
 This cartoon was the first fine work of art which Michel 
 Agnolo displayed in proof of his marvellous talents, and he made 
 it in competition with another draughtsman (i.e., Lionardo da 
 Vinci). 
 
 This cartoon was the first in which Michel Agnolo displayed 
 his extraordinary abilities ; as he made this and another, which 
 were to adorn the hall. (Jtoscoe, p. 21.) ^ 
 
 II. 
 
 Perche vedevo continuamente i fatti del divino Michel Agnolo 
 . . . e da quella mai mi sono ispiccato. {Bianchi, p. 23.) 
 
 Because I had perpetually before my eyes the works of the 
 divine Michel Agnolo . . . and from it I have never swerved. 
 
 Because I had seen the works of the divine|^Michel Agnolo . . . 
 and never once lost sight of it. (Roscoe, p. 23.) 
 
 III. 
 
 Cosi ci legammo i grembiuli indietro. (Bianchi, p. 25.) 
 
 So we tied our aprons behind our backs. 
 
 So we buckled on our knapsacks. (Roscoe, p. 25.) 
 
 IV. 
 
 Mi preg6, che io facessi di sorte che lui P avessi a' sua di. 
 (Bianchi, p. loi.) 
 
 Hebe 
 lifetime. 
 
 Requested me to endeavour to please him hy my execution. 
 
 ^ I quote from Bohn's edition, London, 1850. The italics are mine. 
 
Ix 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Me ne andai dalli destri del mastio. (Bianchi, p. 239.) 
 I went toward the latrines of the fortress. 
 I Avent and got out %ipon the right side of the tower. (Roscoe, 
 p. 248.) 
 
 VI. 
 
 Perche io ho considerate che in quella vostra forma e entrato 
 pill roba che '1 suo dovere. {Bianchi, p. 322.) 
 
 For I have reflected that more metal entered that mould of 
 yours than it could properly hold. 
 
 For I have taken into consideration that there has been a 
 greater consumption of metal upon this work than should have been. 
 {Roscoe, p. 323.) 
 
 VII. 
 
 Se io avessi veduto mettervi nella forma 1' anima, con una sola 
 parola io v' arei insegnato che la figura sarebbe venuta benissimo. 
 (Bianchi, p. 323.) 
 
 If I had seen you placing your block inside the mould, I could 
 with one word have taught you how the figure would have come 
 out to perfection. 
 
 If I had but instructed you with a single word, the figure 
 would have come out admirably. (Roscoe, p. 323.) 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Mandato a I' Elba. (Bianchi, p. 421.) 
 
 Sent to the island of Elba. 
 
 Sent to the Elbe. (Roscoe, p. 413.) 
 
 IX. 
 
 La qual cosa non credette mai nessuno di questi pratici di 
 quella arte. (Bianchi, p. 421.) 
 
 Which none of the masters versed in that art believed to be 
 possible. 
 
 And do not imagine that every common artist could have done as 
 much. (Roscoe, p. 413.) 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Ixi 
 
 E' bisognava fare molto maggiore la fornace, dove io arei potuto 
 fare un rame di gitto, grosso quanto io ho la gamba, e con quella 
 gravezza di metallo caldo per forza ve 1' arei fatto andare ; dove 
 il mio ramo die va insino a' piedi quelle sei braccia clie io dico, 
 nou e grosso •pih che dua dita. Imper6 e' non portava 1 pregio 
 {Bianchi, p. 423.) 
 
 I must have made the furnace much larger, in which case I 
 might have constructed a conduit as thick as my leg, and so by 
 the weight of the molten metal I could have forced it down ; 
 whereas, my pipe, which runs the six cubits I have stated to the 
 statue's feet, is not thicker than two inches. However, it was 
 not worth the trouble and. expense. 
 
 I must then have made the furnace much bigger, to he able to 
 cast a piece of brass as thick as my leg, and with that weight of 
 hot metal I should have made it come out by force ; whereas, my 
 brass, which goes down to the feet six cubits, as I mentioned 
 before, is not above two inches thick. Therefore it was not worth 
 your notice. {Roscoe, p. 415.) 
 
 XL 
 
 Io feci una manica. (Bianchi, p. 424.) 
 
 I made a funnel-shaped furnace. 
 
 I made a sort offence. (Roscoe, p. 416.) 
 
 XII. 
 
 Dare nelle spine. (Bianchi, p. 426.) 
 
 Drive in the plugs. 
 
 Pour out the hot metal. (Roscoe, p. 41 7-) 
 
 XIII. 
 
 II principe e Don Giovanni. (Bianchi, p. 450.) 
 The Prince (or Duke's eldest son) and Don Giovanni. 
 The princes, Don Giovanni, &c. (Roscoe, p. 437.) 
 
Ixii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 E diceva male di questo popolo. (Bianchi, p. 455.) 
 And lie spoke abusively of that people of Florence. 
 And all the ill that was said of him by the populace. {Roscoe, 
 p. 441.) 
 
 XV. 
 
 lo ne feci un poco di mal giudizio, ma io non immaginavo 
 nulla di quello che mi avvenne. {Bianchi, p. 481.) 
 
 I drew a somewhat bad conclusion from his hint ; but I did 
 not in the least picture to myself what was going to happen 
 to me. 
 
 I was guiltij of an error in judgment, hut was not at all mistaken 
 in ivhat happened to me. {Boscoe, p. 467.) 
 
 XVI. 
 
 A voi e' dunno tutte le stoviglie. (Bianchi, p. 483.) 
 To you they give all the crockery. 
 They give you napkins. (Roscoe, p. 469.) 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Io sentendomi ardere il sesso. (Bianchi, p. 483.) 
 
 I, feeling my seat burn. 
 
 I felt my brain all on fire. (Roscoe, p. 469.) 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Importava la maggior gabella j e che egli non mancherebbe. 
 (Bianchi, p. 490.) 
 
 It (the lease) involved the highest tax, and that he would not 
 fail of his word. 
 
 The farm would produce more, and could not possibly fail. 
 (Roscoe, p. 475.) 
 
 I have selected these few instances at random, when 
 I might have culled the like by handfiils. But I may 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Ixiii 
 
 furthermore add that Eoscoe is hardly less negligent in 
 translating the Italian of Cellini's commentators. Thus 
 ■we read on page 265 this version of a note by Carpani : 
 '^' He was under apprehension of leing flayed alive" 
 Carpani wrote scannato, which means having his throat 
 cut.^ It remains in the last place to be remarked that 
 Hoscoe is not excused by having followed bad readings 
 of the original or incomplete authorities. His transla- 
 tion (dated, in its second edition, January i, 1847) 
 appeared after the labours of Carpani, Tassi, and 
 Molini, and professes on the title-page to be " collated 
 with the new text of Giuseppe Molini." 
 
 I have now shown reason why a new translation of 
 Cellini's autobiography in our language is not a super- 
 fluity. At the same time, after severely criticising my 
 predecessor, I disclaim the pretension that my own 
 version will be found impeccable. There are many 
 passages which it is extremely hard for an Italian even, 
 versed in the old dialect of Tuscany, to understand. 2 
 This is due in a great measure to Cellini's colloquial 
 style, and to the involved constructions occasioned by 
 his impetuous flow of utterance in dictation, but also to 
 his habitual use of familiar terms regarding life and 
 art, the exact significance of which can now be hardly 
 reproduced. Furthermore, I may add that it is no easy 
 matter to avoid slips while working through so long a 
 narrative in prose, and aiming at a certain uniformity 
 of diction. 
 
 The truth is, that to translate Cellini's Memoirs taxes 
 all the resources of the English language. It is, in the 
 first place, well-nigh impossible to match that vast voca- 
 
 ^ Carpani, vol. i. p. 423. 
 See Molini's preface to his edition, vol. i. p. x. 
 
Ixiv 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 bulary of vulgar phrases and technical terminology. 
 Some of Cellini's most vivid illustrations owe their 
 pungency and special colouring to customs which have 
 long passed out of current usage. Many of his most 
 energetic epigrams depend for their effect upon a spon- 
 taneous employment of contemporary Florentine slang. 
 Not a few of his most striking descriptions lose their 
 value without the precise equivalents for works of art 
 or handicraft or armoury now obsolete. In the next 
 place, his long-winded and ungrammatical periods, his 
 suspended participles, his vehemently ill-conjugated 
 verbs, his garrulous anacolutha and passionate aposio- 
 peseSj his ingenious recourse to repeated pronouns and 
 reiterated adverbs for sustaining a tottering sentence, 
 his conversational resumption of the same connective 
 phrases, his breathless and fiery incoherence following 
 short incisive clauses of a glittering and trenchant 
 edge, all these peculiarities, dependent on the man's 
 command of his vernacular and his untutored talent for 
 expression, offer stumbling-blocks at every turn to the 
 translator who wishes to preserve something of the tone 
 of the original while presenting a continuous discourse 
 to modern readers. The almost impossible task has 
 to be attempted of reproducing the efiect of heedless 
 animated talking. 
 
 My own system has been to adopt a compromise 
 between such literal rendering as might have made the 
 English version not only unpalatable, but almost unin- 
 telligible, and such elaborate recasting of the original 
 as would have preserved the sense at a regrettable 
 sacrifice of character and vivacity. I may here notice 
 that Cellini appears, at the commencement of his 
 undertaking, to have been' more tentative, more in- 
 volved in diction, than he afterwards became ; in fact, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Ixv 
 
 he only gradually formed his style. Therefore I have 
 suffered the earlier sections of my version to retain a 
 certain stiffness, which relaxes by degrees until the 
 style of the translator is in its turn fashioned. 
 
 PREFATORY NOTE TO SECOND EDITION. 
 
 After the lapse of less than three months a second 
 edition of this book was called for, proving that it had 
 found favour with the public both in England and 
 America. Some few typographical errors are rectified 
 in the new edition ; and I have translated the original 
 sonnet which Cellini prefixed to his autobiography 
 With these exceptions, no alterations of any import- 
 ance have been made. The reception granted to my 
 part of the work by numerous critics and reviewers 
 emboldens me to think that the translation is not in 
 need of immediate revision. 
 
 JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS. 
 
 Davos Platz, Fth. \i 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 BENVENUTO CELLINI 
 
M 
 
 This tale of my sore-troubled life I write, 
 
 To THANK THE GOD OF NATURE, WHO CONVEYED 
 
 My soul to ME, AND WITH SUCH CARE HATH STAYED 
 
 That divers noble deeds I've brought to light. 
 
 'TwAS He subdued my cruel fortune's spite : 
 Life glory virtue measureless hath made 
 Such grace worth beauty be through me displayed 
 That few can rival, none surpass me quite. 
 
 Only it grieves me when I understand 
 
 What precious time in vanity I've spent — 
 
 The wind it beareth man's frail thoughts away. 
 
 Yet, since remorse avails not, I'm content, 
 As ERST I came, welcome to go one day. 
 Here in the Flower of this fair Tuscan land. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 I. 
 
 All men of wliatsoever quality they be, who have done 
 anything of excellence, or which may properly resemble 
 excellence, ought, if they are persons of truth and 
 honesty, to describe their life with their own hand ; but 
 they ought not to attempt so fine an enterprise till they 
 have passed the age of forty. This duty occurs to my 
 own mind, now that I am travelling beyond the term 
 of fifty- eight years, and am in Florence, the city of my 
 birth. Many untoward things can I remember, such 
 as happen to all who live upon our earth; and from 
 those adversities I am now more free than at any pre- 
 viovis period of my career — nay, it seems to me that 
 I enjoy greater content of soul and health of body than 
 ever I did in bygone years. I can also bring to mind 
 some pleasant goods and some inestimable evils, which, 
 when I turn my thoughts backward, strike terror in 
 me, and astonishment that I should have reached this 
 age of fifty-eight, wherein, thanks be to God, I am still 
 travelling prosperously forward. 
 
 II. 
 
 It is true that men who have laboured with some 
 show of excellence, have already given knowledge of 
 
 VOL. I. A 
 
LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 themselves to the world ; and this alone ought to suffice 
 them ; I mean the fact that they have proved their man- 
 hood and achieved renown. Yet one must needs live 
 like others ; and so in a work like this there will always 
 be found occasion for natural bragging, which is of 
 divers kinds, and the first is that a man should let others 
 know he draws his lineage from persons of worth and 
 most ancient origin. 
 
 I am called Benvenuto Cellini, son of Maestro Gio- 
 vanni, son of Andrea, son of Cristofano Cellini; my 
 mother was Madonna Elisabetta, daughter to Stefano 
 Granacci ; both parents citizens of Florence. It is found 
 written in chronicles made by our ancestors of Florence, 
 men of old time and of credibility, even as Giovanni 
 Villani writes, that the city of Florence was evidently 
 built in imitation of the fair city of Kome ; and cer- 
 tain remnants of the Colosseum and the Baths can 
 yet be traced. These things are near Santa Croce. 
 The Capitol was where is now the Old Market. The 
 Eotonda is entire, which was made for the temple of 
 Mars, and is now dedicated to our Saint John. That 
 thus it was, can very well be seen, and cannot be denied ; 
 but the said buildings are much smaller than those of 
 Kome. He who caused them to be built, they say, was 
 Julius Cassar, in concert with some noble Komans, who, 
 when Fiesole had been stormed and taken, raised a city 
 in this place, and each of them took in hand to erect 
 one of these notable edifices. 
 
 Julius C£esar had among his captains a man of 
 highest rank and valour, who was called Fiorino of 
 Cellino, which is a village about two miles distant from 
 Monte Fiascone. Now this Fiorino took up his quarters 
 under the hill of Fiesole, on the ground where Florence 
 now stands, in order to be near the river Arno, and for 
 
BOOK FIRST. 3 
 
 the convenience of the troops. All those soldiers and 
 others who had to do with the said captain, used then 
 to say : " Let us go to Fiorenze ; " as well because the 
 said captain was called Fiorino, as also because the 
 place he had chosen for his quarters was by nature very 
 rich in flowers. Upon the foundation of the city, there- 
 fore, since this name struck Julius Ctesar as being fair 
 a.nd apt, and given by circumstance, and seeing further- 
 more that flowers themselves bring good augury, he 
 appointed the name of Florence for the town. He 
 wished besides to pay his valiant captain this compli- 
 ment ; and he loved him all the more for having drawn 
 him from a very humble place, and for the reason that 
 so excellent a man was a creature of his own. The 
 name that learned inventors and investigators of such 
 etymologies adduce, as that Florence is flowing at the 
 Arno, cannot hold ; seeing that Eome is flowing at the 
 Tiber, Ferrargb is flowing at the Po, Lyons is flowing at 
 the Soane, Paris is flowing at the Seine, and yet the 
 names of all these towns are different, and have come 
 to them by other ways.^ 
 
 Thus then we find ; and thus we believe that we are 
 descended from a man of worth. Furthermore, we find 
 that there are Cellinis of our stock in Ravenna, that 
 most ancient town of Italy, where too are plenty of 
 gentle folk. In Pisa also there are some, and I have 
 discovered them in many parts of Christendom ; and 
 in this state also the breed exists, men devoted to the 
 
 ^ He is alluding to the name Flucnzia, which some antiquaries of 
 his day thought to have been the earliest name of the city, derived from 
 its being near Arno fluente. I have translated the vfoxd jluente in the 
 text literally, though of course it signifies "situated on a flowing river." 
 I need not call attention to the apocryphal nature of Cellini's own 
 derivation from the name of his supposed ancestor. 
 
4 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 profession of arms ; for not many years ago a young 
 man, called Luca Cellini, a beardless youth, fought with 
 a soldier of experience and a most valorous man, named 
 Trancesco da Vicorati, who had frequently fought before 
 in single combat. This Luca, by his own valour, with 
 sword in hand, overcame and slew him, with such 
 bravery and stoutness that he moved the folk to wonder, 
 who were expecting quite the contrary issue ; so that 
 I glory in tracing my descent from men of valour. 
 
 As for the trifling honours which I have gained for 
 my house, under the well-known conditions of our pre- 
 sent ways of living, and by means of my art, albeit 
 the same are matters of no great moment, I will relate 
 these in their proper time and place, taking much more 
 pride in having been born humble and having laid 
 some honourable foundation for my family, than if I 
 had been born of great lineage and had stained or over- 
 clouded that by my base qualities. So then I will 
 make a beginning by saying how it pleased God I 
 should be born. 
 
 III. 
 
 My ancestors dwelt in Val d' Ambra, where they 
 owned large estates, and lived like little lords, in retire- 
 ment, however, on account of the then contending 
 factions. They were all men devoted to arms and of 
 notable bravery. In that time one of their sons, the 
 younger, who was called Cristofano, roused a great feud 
 with certain of their friends and neighbours. Now the 
 heads of the families on both sides took part in it, and 
 the fire kindled seemed to them so threatening that 
 their houses were like to perish utterly ; the elders upon 
 this consideration, in concert with my own ancestors, 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 5 
 
 removed Cristofano ; aud the other youth with whom 
 the quarrel began was also sent away. They sent their 
 young man to Siena. Oar folk sent Cristofano to 
 Florence ; and there they bought for him a little house 
 in Via Ohiara, close to the convent of S. Orsola, and 
 they also purchased for him some very good property 
 near the Ponte a Eifredi. The said Cristofano took wife 
 iu Florence, and had sons and daughters ; and when all 
 the daughters had been portioned off, the sons, after 
 their father's death, divided what remained. The house 
 in Via Chiara with some other trifles fell to the share 
 of one of the said sons, who had the name of Andrea. 
 He also took wife, and had four male children. The 
 first was called Girolamo, the second Bartolommeo, the 
 third Giovanni, who was afterwards my father, and the 
 fourth Francesco. This Andrea Cellini was very well 
 versed in architecture, as it was then practised, and 
 lived by it as his trade. Giovanni, who was my father, 
 paid more attention to it than any of the other bi'others. 
 And since Vitruvius says, amongst other things, that 
 one who wishes to practise that art well must have 
 something of music and good drawing, Giovanni, when 
 he had mastered drawing, began to turn his mind to 
 music, and together with the theory learned to play 
 most excellently on the viol and the flute ; and being a 
 person of studious habits, he left his home but seldom. 
 They had for neighbour in the next house a man 
 called Stefano Granacci, who had several daughters, 
 all of them of remarkable beauty. As it pleased God, 
 Giovanni noticed one of these girls who was named 
 Elisabetta ; and she found such favour with him that 
 he asked her in marriage. The fathers of both of them 
 being well acquainted through their close neighbour- 
 hood, it was easy to make this match up ; and each 
 
LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 thouglit that he had very well arranged his affairs. First 
 of all the two good old nien agreed upon the marriage ; 
 then they began to discuss the dowry, which led to a 
 certain amount of friendly difference ; for Andrea said 
 to Stefano : " My son Giovanni is the stoutest youth of 
 Florence, and of all Italy to boot, and if I had wanted 
 earlier to have him married, I could have procured one 
 of the largest dowries which folk of our rank get in 
 Florence;" whereupon Stefano answered: "You have 
 a thousand reasons on your side; but here am I with 
 five daughters and as many sons, and when my reckon- 
 ing is made, this is as much as I can possibly afford." 
 Giovanni, who had been listening awhile unseen by 
 them, suddenly broke in and said : " O my father, I 
 have sought and loved that girl and not their money. 
 Ill-luck to those who seek to fill their pockets by the 
 dowry of their wife ! As you have boasted that I am a 
 fellow of such parts, do you not think that I shall be 
 able to provide for my wife and satisfy her needs, even 
 if I receive something short of the portion you would 
 like to get ? Now I must make you understand that 
 the woman is mine, and you may take the dowry for 
 yourself." At this Andrea Cellini, who was a man of 
 rather awkward temper, grew a trifle angry ; but after 
 a few days Giovanni took his wife, and never asked for 
 other portion with her. 
 
 They enjoyed their youth and wedded love through 
 eighteen years, always greatly desiring to be blessed 
 with children. At the end of this time Giovanni's wife 
 miscarried of two boys through the unskilfulness of the 
 doctors. Later on she was again with child, and gave 
 birth to a girl, whom they called Cosa, after the mother 
 of my father.! At the end of two years she was once 
 
 ^ Cosa is Florentine for Niccolosa. 
 
BOOK FIEST. 7 
 
 more with child; and inasmuch as those longings to 
 which pregnant women are subject, and to which they 
 pay much attention, were now exactly the same as those 
 of her former pregnancy, they made their minds up that 
 she would give birth to a female as before, and agreed 
 to call the child Reparata, after the mother of my 
 mother. It happened that she was delivered on a 
 night of All Saints, following the feast-day, at half- 
 past four precisely, in the year 1500.^ The midwife, 
 who knew that they were expecting a girl, after she 
 had washed the baby and wrapped it in the fairest 
 white linen, came softly to my father Giovanni, and 
 said : " I am bringing you a fine present, such as you 
 did not anticipate," My father, who was a true philo- 
 sopher, was walking up and down, and answered : 
 " What God gives me is always dear to me ; " and when 
 he opened the swaddling clothes, he saw with his own 
 eyes the unexpected male child. Joining together the 
 palms of his old hands, he raised them with his eyes to 
 God, and said : " Lord, I thank thee with my whole 
 heart ; this gift is very dear to me ; let him be Welcome." 
 All the persons who were there asked him joyfully what 
 name the child should bear. Giovanni would make no 
 other answer than "Let him be Welcome — Benvenuto;'"'^ 
 and so they resolved, and this name was given me at 
 Holy Baptism, and by it I still am living with the 
 grace of God. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Andrea Cellini was yet alive when I was about three 
 
 ^ The hour is reckoned, according to the old Italian fashion, from 
 sunset of one day to sunset of the next — twenty-four hours. 
 "^ Benvenuto means Welcome. 
 
8 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 years old, and he had passed his hundredth. One day 
 they had been altering a certain conduit pertaining to a 
 cistern, and there issued from it a great scorpion unper- 
 ceived by them, which crept down from the cistern to 
 the ground, and slank away beneath a bench. I saw it, 
 and ran up to it, and laid my hands upon it. It was 
 so big that when I had it in my little hands, it put out 
 its tail on one side, and on the other thrust forth both 
 its mouths.^ They relate that I ran in high joy to my 
 grandfather, crying out : " Look, grandpapa, at my pretty 
 little crab." When he recognised that the creature was 
 a scorpion, he was on the point of falling dead for the 
 great fear he had and anxiety about me. He coaxed 
 and entreated me to give it him; but the more he 
 begged, the tighter I clasped it, crying and saying I 
 would not give it to any one. My father, who was also 
 in the house, ran up when he heard my screams, and 
 in his stupefaction could not think how to prevent the 
 venomous animal from killing me. Just then his eyes 
 chanced to fall upon a pair of scissors ; and so, while 
 soothing and caressing me, he cut its tail and mouths 
 off. Afterwards, when the great peril had been thus 
 averted, he took the occurrence for a good augury. 
 
 When I was about five years old my father happened 
 to be in a basement-chamber of our house, where they 
 had been washing, and where a good fire of oak-logs 
 was still burning ; he had a viol in his hand, and was 
 playing and singing alone beside the fire. The weather 
 was very cold. Happening to look into the fire, he 
 spied in the middle of those most burning flames a 
 little creature like a lizard, which was sporting in the 
 core of the intensest coals. Becoming instantly aware 
 
 ^ The word is hocche, so I have translated it by mouths. But Cellini 
 clearly meant the gaping claws of the scorpion. 
 
BOOK FIKST. 9 
 
 of what the thing was, he had my sister and me called, 
 and pointing it out to us children, gave me a great box 
 on the ears, which caused me to howl and weep with 
 all my might. Then he pacified me good-humouredly, 
 and spoke as follows : " My dear little boy, I am not 
 striking you for any wrong that you have done, but 
 only to make you remember that that lizard which you 
 see in the fire is a salamander, a creature which has 
 never been seen before by any one of whom we have 
 credible information," So saying he kissed me and 
 gave me some pieces of money. 
 
 My father began teaching me to play upon the flute 
 and sing by note ; but notwithstanding I was of that 
 tender age when little children are wont to take pastime 
 in whistles and such toys, I had an inexpressible dislike 
 for it, and played and sang only to obey him. My 
 father in those times fashioned wonderful organs with 
 pipes of wood, spinets the fairest and most excellent 
 which then could be seen, viols and lutes and harps of 
 the most beautiful and perfect construction. He was 
 an engineer, and had marvellous skill in making instru- 
 ments for lowering bridges and for working mills, and 
 other machines of that sort. In ivory he was the first 
 who wrought really well. But after he had fallen in 
 love with the woman who was destined to become my 
 mother — perhaps what brought them together was that 
 little flute, to which indeed he paid more attention than 
 was proper — he was entreated by the fifers of the Signory 
 to play in their company. Accordingly he did so for 
 some time to amuse himself, until by constant impor- 
 
lO 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 tunity they induced him to become a memiber of their 
 band. Lorenzo de' Medici and Piero his son, who had 
 a great liking for him, perceived later on that he was 
 devoting himself wholly to the fife, and was neglecting 
 his fine engineering talent and his beautiful art.^ So 
 they had him removed from that post. My father took 
 this very ill, and it seemed to him that they had done 
 him a great despite. Yet he immediately resumed his 
 art, and fashioned a mirror, about a cubit in diameter, 
 out of bone and ivory, with figures and foliage of great 
 finish and grand design. The mirror was in the form 
 of a wheel. In the middle was the looking-glass; 
 around it were seven circular pieces, on which were the 
 Seven Virtues, carved and joined of ivory and black 
 bone. The whole mirror, together with the Virtues, 
 was placed in equilibrium, so that when the wheel 
 turned, all the Virtues moved, and they had weights at 
 their feet which kept them upright. Possessing some 
 acquaintance with the Latin tongue, he put a legend in 
 Latin round his looking-glass, to this effect — " Whither- 
 soever the wheel of Fortune turns, Virtue stands firm 
 upon her feet : " 
 
 Rota sum : semper, quoquo me verto, stat Virtus. 
 
 A little while after this, he obtained his place again 
 among the fifers. Although some of these things 
 happened before I was born, my familiarity with them 
 has moved me to set them down here. In those days 
 the musicians of the Signory were all of them members 
 of the most honourable trades, and some of them be- 
 
 ^ The Medici here mentioned were Lorenzo the Magnificent, and his 
 son Pietro, who was expelled from Florence in the year 1494. He 
 never returned, but died in the river Garigliano in 1504. 
 
BOOK FIRST. II 
 
 longed to the greater guilds of silk and wool ; ^ and that 
 was the reason why nay father did not disdain to follow 
 this profession, and his chief desire with regard to me 
 was always that I should become a great performer on 
 the flute. I for my part felt never more discontented 
 than when he chose to talk to me about this scheme, 
 and to tell me that, if I liked, he discerned in me such 
 aptitudes that I might become the best man in the 
 world. 
 
 YI. 
 
 As I have said, my father was the devoted servant 
 and attached friend of the house of Medici ; and when 
 Piero was banished, he entrusted him with many affairs 
 of the greatest possible importance. Afterwards, when 
 the magnificent Piero Soderini was elected, and my 
 father continued in his office of musician, Soderini, 
 perceiving his wonderful talent, began to employ him 
 in many matters of great importance as an engineer.^ 
 So long as Soderini remained in Florence, he showed 
 the utmost goodwill to my father ; and in those days, I 
 being still of tender age, my father had me carried, and 
 made me perform upon the flute ; I used to play treble 
 in concert with the musicians of the palace before the 
 Signory, following my notes; and a beadle used to 
 carry me upon his shoulders. The Gonfalonier, that 
 is, Soderini, whom I have already mentioned, took much 
 
 ^ In the Middle Ages the burghers of Florence were divided into indus- 
 trial guilds, called the Greater and the Lesser Arts. The former took pre- 
 cedence of the latter, both in political importance and in social esteem. 
 
 ^ Piero Soderini was elected Gonfalonier of the Florentine Republic 
 for life in the year 1502. After nine years of government, he was 
 banished, and when he died, Machiavelli wrote the famous sneering 
 epitaph upon him. See Renaissance in Italy, vol. i. p. 297. 
 
13 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 pleasure in making me cliatter, and gave me comfits, 
 and was wont to say to my father : " Maestro Giovanni, 
 beside music, teach the boy those other arts which do 
 you so much honour." To which my father answered : 
 " I do not wish him to practise any art but playing and 
 composing ; for in this profession I hope to make him 
 the greatest man of the world, if God prolongs his life." 
 To these words one of the old counsellors made answer : 
 " Ah ! Maestro Giovanni, do what the Gonfalonier tells 
 you ! for why should he never become anything more 
 than a good musician ? " 
 
 Thus some time passed, until the Medici returned.^ 
 When they arrived, the Cardinal, who afterwards became 
 Pope Leo, received my father very kindly. During their 
 exile the scutcheons which were on the palace of the 
 Medici had had their balls erased, and a great red cross 
 painted over them, which was the bearing of the Com- 
 mune.2 Accordingly, as soon as they returned, the red 
 cross was scratched out, and on the scutcheon the red 
 balls and the golden field were painted in again, and 
 finished with great beauty. My father, who possessed 
 a simple vein of poetry, instilled in him by nature, 
 together with a certain touch of prophecy, which was 
 doubtless a divine gift in him, wrote these four verses 
 under the said arms of the Medici, when they were 
 uncovered to the view : — 
 
 These arms, which have so long from sight been laid 
 Beneath the holy cross, that symbol meek, 
 Now lift their glorious glad face, and seek 
 
 With Peter's sacred cloak to be arrayed. 
 
 ^ This was in 1512, when Lorenzo's two sons, Giuliano and Giovanni 
 (afterwards Pope Leo X. ), came back through the aid of a Spanish 
 army, after the great battle at Ravenna. 
 
 ^ The Medicean arms were "or, six pellets gules, three, two, and one." 
 The Florentine Commune bore, "argent a cross gules." 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 13 
 
 This epigram was read by all Florence. A few days 
 afterwards Pope Julius II. died. The Cardinal de' 
 Medici went to Rome, and was elected Pope against 
 the expectation of everybody. He reigned as Leo X., 
 that generous and great soul. My father sent him his 
 four prophetic verses. The Pope sent to tell him to 
 come to Rome; for this would be to his advantage. 
 But he had no will to go ; and so, in lieu of reward, his 
 place in the palace was taken from him by Jacopo 
 Salviati, npon that man's election as Gonfalonier. ^ 
 This was the reason why I commenced goldsmith ; 
 after which I spent part of my time in learning that 
 art, and part in playing, much against my will. 
 
 VII. 
 
 When my father spoke to me in the way I have above 
 described, I entreated him to let me draw a certain fixed 
 number of hours in the day ; all the rest of my time I 
 would give to music, only with the view of satisfying 
 his desire. Upon this he said to me : "So then, you 
 take no pleasure in playing ? " To which I answered, 
 " No ; " because that art seemed too base in comparison 
 with what I had in my own mind. My good father, 
 driven to despair by this fixed idea of mine, placed me 
 in the workshop of Cavaliere Bandinello's father, who 
 was called Michel Agnolo, a goldsmith from Pinzi di 
 Monte, and a master excellent in that craft.^ He had 
 
 ^ Cellini makes a mistake here. Salviati married a daughter of 
 Lorenzo de' Medici, and obtained great influence in Florence ; but we 
 have no record of his appointment to the office of Gonfalonier. 
 
 ^ Baccio Bandinello, the sculptor, and a great rival of Cellini's, as 
 will appear in the ensuing pages, was born in 1487, and received the 
 honour of knighthood from Clement VII. and Charles V. Posterity 
 
14 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 no distinction of birth whatever, but was the son of a 
 charcoal-seller. This is no blame to Bandinello, who 
 has founded the honour of the family — if only he had 
 done so honestly ! However that may be, I have no 
 cause now to talk about him. After I had stayed there 
 some days, my father took me away from Michel Agnolo, 
 finding himself unable to live without having me always 
 under his eyes. Accordingly, much to my discontent, I 
 remained at music till I reached the age of fifteen. If I 
 were to describe all the wonderful things that happened 
 to me up to that time, and all the great dangers to my 
 own life which I ran, I should astound my readers ; but, 
 in order to avoid prolixity, and having very much to 
 relate, I will omit these incidents. 
 
 When I reached the age of fifteen, I put myself, 
 against my father's will, to the goldsmith's trade with 
 a man called Antonio, son of Sandro, known commonly 
 as Marcone the goldsmith. He was a most excellent 
 craftsman and a very good fellow to boot, high-spirited 
 and frank in all his ways. My father would not let 
 him give me wages like the other apprentices; for 
 having taken up the study of this art to please myself, 
 he wished me to indulge my whim for drawing to the 
 full. I did so willingly enough ; and that honest master 
 of mine took marvellous delight in my performances. 
 He had an only son, a bastard, to whom he often gave 
 his orders, in order to spare me. My liking for the art 
 was so great, or, I may truly say, my natural bias, both 
 one and the other, that in a few months I caught up 
 the good, nay, the best young craftsmen in our business, 
 and began to reap the fruits of my labours. I did not, 
 
 has confirmed Cellini's opinion of Bandinello as an artist ; for his works 
 are coarse, pretentious, and incapable of giving pleasure to any person 
 of refined intelligence. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 15 
 
 however, neglect to gratify my good father from time 
 to time by playing on the flute or cornet. Each time 
 he heard me, I used to make his tears fall accompanied 
 with deep-drawn sighs of satisfaction. My filial piety 
 often made me give him that contentment, and induced 
 me to pretend that I enjoyed the music too. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 At that time I had a brother, younger by two years, 
 a youth of extreme boldness and fierce temper. He 
 afterwards became one of the great soldiers in the school 
 of that marvellous general Giovannino de' Medici, father 
 of Duke Cosimo.^ The boy was about fourteen, and I 
 two years older. One Sunday evening, just before 
 nightfall, he happened to find himself between the 
 gate San Gallo and the Porta a Pinti ; in this quarter 
 he came to duel with a young fellow of twenty or there- 
 abouts. They both had swords; and my brother dealt 
 BO valiantly that, after having badly wounded him, he 
 was upon the point of following up his advantage. 
 There was a great crowd of people present, among 
 whom were many of the adversary's kinsfolk. Seeing 
 that the thing was going ill for their own man, they 
 put hand to their slings, a stone from one of which hit 
 my poor brother in the head. He fell to the ground 
 at once in a dead faint. It so chanced that I had been 
 upon the spot alone, and without arms ; and I had done 
 
 ^ Cellini refers to the famous Giovanni delle Bande Nere, who was 
 killed in an engagement in Lombardy in November 1526 by the Impe- 
 rialist troops marching to the sack of Rome. His son Cosimo, after 
 tlie murder of Duke Alessandro, established the second Medicean 
 dynasty in Florence. 
 
i6 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 my best to get my brother out of the fray by calling to 
 him: "Make off; you have done enough." Meanwhile, 
 as luck would have it, he fell, as I have said, half dead 
 to earth. I ran up at once, seized his sword, and stood 
 in front of him, bearing the brunt of several rapiers and 
 a shower of stones. I never left his side until some 
 brave soldiers came from the gate San Gallo and rescued 
 me from the raging crowd; they marvelled much, the 
 while, to find such valour in so young a boy. 
 
 Then I carried my brother home for dead, and it was 
 only with great difficulty that he came to himself again. 
 When he was cured, the Eight, who had already con- 
 demned our adversaries and banished them for a term 
 of years, sent us also into exile for six months at a 
 distance of ten miles from Florence.^ I said to my 
 brother : " Come along with me ; " and so we took leave 
 of our poor father; and instead of giving us money, 
 for he had none, he bestowed on us his blessing. I 
 went to Siena, wishing to look up a certain worthy 
 man called Maestro Francesco Castoro. On another 
 occasion, when I had run away from my father, I went 
 to this good man, and stayed some time with him, work- 
 ing at the goldsmith's trade until my father sent for me 
 back. Francesco, when I reached him, recognised me 
 at once, and gave me work to do. While thus occupied, 
 he placed a house at my disposal for the whole time of 
 my sojourn in Siena. Into this I moved, together with 
 my brother, and applied myself to labour for the space 
 of several months. My brother had acquired the rudi- 
 ments of Latin, but was still so young that he could 
 not yet relish the taste of virtuous employment, but 
 passed his time in dissipation. 
 
 ^ The Eight, or Gli Otto, were a magistracy in Florence with cog- 
 nisance of matters affecting the internal peace of the city. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 17 
 
 IX. 
 
 The Cardinal de' Medici, who afterwards became Pope 
 Clement VII., had us recalled to Florence at the entreaty 
 of my father.^ A certain pupil of my father's, moved by 
 his own bad nature, suggested to the Cardinal that he 
 ought to send me to Bologna, in order to learn to play 
 well from a great master there. The name of this 
 master was Antonio, and he was in truth a worthy man 
 in the musician's art. The Cardinal said to my father 
 that, if he sent me there, he would give me letters of 
 recommendation and support. My father, dying with 
 joy at such an opportunity, sent me off; and I being 
 eager to see the world, went with good grace. 
 
 When I reached Bologna, I put myself under a certain 
 Maestro Ercole del PifFero, and began to earn some- 
 thing by my trade. In the meantime I used to go every 
 day to take my music-lesson, and in a few weeks made 
 considerable progress in that accursed art. However, 
 I made still greater in my trade of goldsmith ; for the 
 Cardinal having given me no assistance, I went to live 
 with a Bolognese illuminator who was called Scipione 
 Cavalletti (his house was in the street of our Lady del 
 Baraccan) ; and while there I devoted myself to draw- 
 ing and working for one Graziadio, a Jew, with whom 
 I earned considerably. 
 
 At the end of six months I returned to Florence, 
 
 ^ This Cardinal and Pope was Giulio, a natural son of Giuliano, 
 Lorenzo de' Medici's brother, who had been killed in the Pazzi conspi- 
 racy, year 1478. Giulio lived to become Pope Clement VII., to suffer 
 the sick of Rome in 1527, and to make the concordat with Charles V. 
 at Bclogna in 1529-30, which settled for three centuries the destiny of 
 Italy, We shall hear much more of him from Cellini in the course of 
 this r.arrative. 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
i3 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 where that fellow Pierino, who had been my father's 
 pupil, was greatly mortified by my return. To please 
 my father, I went to his house and played the cornet 
 and the flute with one of his brothers, who was named 
 Girolamo, several years younger than the said Piero, a 
 very worthy young man, and quite the contrary of his 
 brother. On one of those days my father came to Piero's 
 house to hear us play, and in ecstasy at my performance 
 exclaimed : " I shall yet make you a marvellous musi- 
 cian against the will of all or any one who may desire 
 to pi'eveut me." To this Piero answered, and spoke the 
 truth : " Your Benvenuto will get much more honour 
 and profit if he devotes himself to the goldsmith's trade 
 than to this piping." These words made my father so 
 angry, seeing that I too had the same opinion as Piero, 
 that he flew into a rage and cried out at him : " Well 
 did I know that it was you, you who put obstacles in 
 the way of my cherished wish ; you are the man who 
 had me ousted from my place at the palace, paying me 
 back with that black ingratitude which is the usual 
 recompense of great benefits. I got you promoted, and 
 you have got me cashiered ; I taught you to play with 
 all the little art you have, and you are preventing my 
 son from obeying me ; but bear in mind these words of 
 prophecy : not years or months, I say, but only a few 
 weeks will pass before this dirty ingratitude of yours 
 shall plunge you into ruin," To these words answered 
 Pierino and said : " Maestro Giovanni, the majority of 
 men, when they grow old, go mad at the same time ; 
 and this has happened to you. I am not astonished at 
 it, because most liberally have you squandered all your 
 property, without reflecting that your children had need 
 of it. I mind to do just the opposite, and to leave ray 
 children so much that they shall be able to succour 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 19 
 
 yours." To this my father answered : " No bad tree 
 ever bore good fruit ; quite the contrary ; and I tell you 
 further that you are bad, and that your children will 
 be mad and paupers, and will cringe for alms to my 
 virtuous and wealth}^ sons." Thereupon we left the 
 house, muttering words of anger on both sides. I had 
 taken my father's part; and when we stepped into 
 the street together, I told him I was quite ready to 
 take vengeance for the insults heaped on him by that 
 scoundrel, provided you permit me to give myself up 
 to the art of design. He answered : " My dear son, I 
 too in my time was a good draughtsman ; but for re- 
 creation, after such stupendous labours, and for the love 
 of me who am your father, who begat you and brought 
 you up and implanted so many honourable talents in you, 
 for the sake of recreation, I say, will not you promise 
 sometimes to take in hand your flute and that seductive 
 cornet, and to play upon them to your heart's content, 
 inviting the delight of music ? " I promised I would 
 do so, and very willingly for his love's sake. Then my 
 good father said that such excellent parts as I possessed 
 would be the greatest vengeance I could take for the 
 insults of his enemies. 
 
 Not a whole month had been completed after this 
 scene, before the man Pierino happened to be building 
 a vault in a house of his, which he had in the Via dello 
 Studio ; and being one day in a ground-floor room above 
 the vault which he was making, together with much 
 company around him, he fell to talking about his old 
 master, my father. While repeating the words which 
 he had said to him concerning his ruin, no sooner had 
 they escaped his lips than the floor where he was stand- 
 ing (either because the vault had been badly built, or 
 rather through the sheer mightiness of God, who does 
 
20 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 Bot always pay on Saturday) suddenly gave way. Some 
 of the stones and bricks of the vault, which fell with 
 him, broke both his legs. The friends who were with 
 him, remaining on the border of the broken vault, took no 
 harm, but were astounded and full of wonder, especially 
 because of the prophecy which he had just contemptu- 
 ously repeated to them. When my father heard of this, 
 he took his sword, and went to see the man. There, in 
 the presence of his father, who was called Niccolaio 
 da Yolterra, a trumpeter of the Signory, he said : " O 
 Piero, my dear pupil, I am sorely grieved at your mis- 
 chance ; but if you remember, it was only a short time 
 ago that I warned you of it ; and as much as I then 
 said will come to happen between your children and 
 mine." Shortly afterwards, the ungrateful Piero died 
 of that illness. He left a wife of bad character and one 
 son, who after the lapse of some years came to me to 
 beg for alms in Piome. I gave him something, as well 
 because it is my nature to be charitable, as also because 
 I recalled with tears the happy state which Pierino held 
 when my father spake those words of prophecy, namely, 
 that Pierino's children should live to crave succour from 
 his own virtuous sons. Of this perhaps enough is now 
 said ; but let none ever laugh at the prognostications of 
 any worthy man whom he has wrongfully insulted ; be- 
 cause it is not he who speaks, nay, but the very voice of 
 God through him. 
 
 X. 
 
 All this while I worked as a goldsmith, and was able 
 to assist my good father. His other son, my brother 
 Cecchino, had, as I said before, been instructed in the 
 rudiments of Latin letters. It was our father's wish 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 2r 
 
 to make me, the elder, a great musician and composer, 
 and him, the younger, a great and learned jurist. He 
 could not, however, put force upon the inclinations of 
 OTur nature, which directed me to the arts of design, 
 and my brother, who had a fine and graceful person, to 
 the profession of arms. Cecchino, being still quite a lad, 
 was retm'ning from his first lesson in the school of the 
 stupendous Giovannino de' Medici. On the day when 
 he reached home, I happened to be absent; and he, 
 being in want of proper clothes, sought out our sisters, 
 who, unknown to my father, gave him a cloak and 
 doublet of mine, both new and of good quality. I ought 
 to say that, beside the aid I gave ray father and my 
 excellent and honest sisters, I had bought those hand- 
 some clothes out of my own savings. When I found 
 I had been cheated, and my clothes taken from me, 
 and my brother from whom I should have recovered 
 them was gone, I asked my father why he suffered so 
 great a wrong to be done me, seeing that I was always 
 ready to assist him. He replied that I was his good 
 son, but that the other, whom he thought to have lost, 
 had been found again ; also that it was a duty, nay, a 
 precept from God Himself, that he who hath should 
 give to him who hath not; and that for his sake I 
 ought to bear this injustice, for God would increase me 
 in all good things. I, like a youth without experience, 
 retorted on my poor afflicted parent ; and taking the 
 miserable remnants of my clothes and money, went 
 toward a gate of the city. As I did not know which 
 gate would start me on the road to Rome, I arrived at 
 Lucca, and from Lucca reached Pisa. 
 
 When I came to Pisa (I was about sixteen years of 
 age at the time), I stopped near the middle bridge, by 
 what is called the Fish-stone, at the shop of a gold- 
 
LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLIXI. 
 
 smitli, and began attentively to watch what the master 
 was about.^ He asked me who I was, and what was 
 my profession. I told him that I worked a little in the 
 same trade as his own. This worthy man bade me 
 come into his shop, and at once gave me work to do, 
 and spoke as follows: "Your good appearance makes 
 me believe you are a decent honest youth," Then he 
 told me out gold, silver, and gems; and when the first 
 day's work was finished, he took me in the evening to 
 his house, where he dwelt respectably with his hand- 
 some wife and children. Thinking of the grief which my 
 good father might be feeling for me, I wrote him that 
 I was sojourning with a very excellent and honest man, 
 called Maesti'o Ulivieri della Chiostra, and was working 
 with him at many things of beauty and importance. 
 I bade him be of good cheer, for that I was bent on 
 learning, and hoped by my acquirements to bring him 
 back both profit and honour before long. My good 
 father answered the letter at once in words like these : 
 " My son, the love I bear you is so great, that if it were 
 not for the honour of our family, which above all things 
 I regard, I should immediately have set off for you ; for 
 indeed it seems like being without the light of my 
 eyes, when I do not see you daily, as I used to do. I 
 will make it my business to complete the training of 
 my household up to virtuous honesty ; do you make it 
 yours to acquire excellence in your art ; and I only wish 
 you to remember these four simple words, obey them, 
 and never let them escape your memory : 
 
 In whatever house you be, 
 Steal not, and live honestly." 
 
 ^ The Fish -stone, or Pietra del Pesce, was the market on the quay 
 where the fish brought from the sea up the Arno to Pisa used to be sold. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 23 
 
 XI. 
 
 This letter fell into the hands of my master 
 Ulivieri, and he read it unknown to me. Afterwards 
 he avowed that he had read it, and added : " So then, 
 my Benvenuto, your good looks did not deceive me, 
 as a letter from your father which has come into my 
 hands gives me assurance, which proves him to be a 
 man of notable honesty and worth. Consider yourself 
 then to be at home here, and as though in your own 
 father's house." 
 
 While I stayed at Pisa, I went to see the Campo 
 Santo, and there I found many beautiful fragments of 
 antiquity, that is to say, marble sarcophagi. In other 
 parts of Pisa also I saw many antique objects, which I 
 diligently studied whenever I had days or hours free 
 from the labour of the workshop. My master, who 
 took pleasure in coming to visit me in the little room 
 which he had allotted me, observing that I spent all 
 my time in studious occupations, began to love me 
 like a father. I made great progress in the one year 
 that I stayed there, and completed several fine and 
 valuable things in gold and silver, which inspired me 
 with a resolute ambition to advance in my art. 
 
 My father, in the mean while, kept writing piteous 
 entreaties that I should return to him ; and in every 
 letter bade me not to lose the music he had taught me 
 with such trouble. On this, I suddenly gave up all 
 wish to go back to him ; so much did I hate that 
 accursed music ; and I felt as though of a truth I were 
 in paradise the whole year I stayed at Pisa, where I 
 never played the flute. 
 
 At the end of the year my master Ulivieri had occa- 
 
24 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 sion to go to Florence, in order to sell certain gold and 
 silver sweepings which he had ; ^ and inasmuch as the 
 bad air of Pisa had given me a touch of fever, I went 
 with the fever hanging still about me, in my master's 
 company, back to Florence, There my father received 
 him most affectionately, and lovingly prayed him, un- 
 known by me, not to insist on taking me again to Pisa. 
 I was ill about two months, during which time my 
 father had me most kindly treated and cured, always 
 repeating that it seemed to him a thousand years till I 
 got well again, in order that he might hear me play a 
 little. But when he talked to me of music, with his 
 fingers on my pulse, seeing he had some acquaintance 
 with medicine and Latin learning, he felt it change so 
 much if he approached that topic, that he was often 
 dismayed and left my side in tears. When I perceived 
 how greatly he was disappointed, I bade one of my 
 sisters bring me a flute ; for though the fever never left 
 me, that instrument is so easy that it did not hurt 
 me to play upon it-; and I used it with such dexterity 
 of hand and tongue that my father, coming suddenly 
 upon me, blessed me a thousand times, exclaiming that 
 while I was away from him I had made great progress, 
 as he thought ; and he begged me to go forwards, and 
 not to sacrifice so fine an accomplishment. 
 
 XII. 
 
 When I had recovered my health, I returned to my 
 old friend Marcone, the worthy goldsmith, who put me 
 in the way of earning money, with which I helped my 
 
 ^ I have translated spazzature by sweepings. It means all refuse of 
 the precious metals left in the goldsmith's trays. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 2? 
 
 father and our houseliold. About that time there came 
 to Florence a sculptor named Piero Torrigiani;^ he 
 arrived from England, where he had resided many 
 years ; and being intimate with my master, he daily 
 visited his house ; and when he saw my drawings and 
 the things which I was making, he said : " I have come 
 to Florence to enlist as many young men as I can ; for 
 I have undertaken to execute a great work for my king, 
 and want some of my own Florentines to help me. Now 
 your method of working and your designs are worthy 
 rather of a sculptor than a goldsmith; and since I have 
 to turn out a great piece of bronze, I will at the same 
 time turn you into a rich and able artist." This man had 
 a splendid person and a most arrogant spirit, with the 
 air of a great soldier more than of a sculptor, especially 
 in regard to his vehement gestures and his resonant 
 voice, together with a habit he had of knitting his 
 brows, enough to frighten any man of courage. He 
 kept talking every day about his gallant feats among 
 those beasts of Englishmen. 
 
 In course of conversation he happened to mention 
 Michel Agnolo Buonarroti, led thereto by a drawing I 
 had made from a cartoon of that divinest painter.^ 
 This cartoon was the first masterpiece which Michel 
 
 ^ Torrigiani worked in fact for Henry VIII., and his monument to 
 Henry VII. still exists in the Lady Chapel of Westminster Abbey. 
 From England he went to Spain, where he modelled a statue of the 
 Virgin for a great nobleman. Not receiving the pay he expected, he 
 broke his work to pieces ; for which act of sacrilege the Inquisition 
 sent him to prison, where he starved himself to death in 1522. Such 
 at least is the legend of his end. 
 
 ^ The cartoons to which Cellini here alludes were made by Michel 
 Angelo and Lionardo for the decoration of the Sala del Gran Consiglio 
 in the Palazzo Vecchio at Florence. Only the shadows of them remain 
 to this day ; a part of Michel Angelo's, engraved by Schiavonetti, and a 
 transcript by Rubens from Lionai'do's, called the Battle of the Standard. 
 
26 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 Agnolo exhibited, in proof of his stupendous talents. 
 He produced it in competition with another painter, 
 Lionardo da Vinci, who also made a cartoon; and both 
 were intended for the council-hall in the palace of the 
 Signory. They represented the taking of Pisa by the 
 Florentines ; and our admirable Lionardo had chosen 
 to depict a battle of horses, with the capture of some 
 standards, in as divine a style as could possibly be 
 imagined. Michel Agnolo in his cartoon portrayed a 
 number of foot-soldiers, who, the season being summer, 
 had gone to bathe in Arno. He drew them at the 
 very moment the alarm is sounded, and the men all 
 naked run to arms ; so splendid in their action that 
 nothing survives of ancient or of modern art which 
 touches the same lofty point of excellence ; and as I 
 have already said, the design of the great Lionardo 
 was itself most admirably beautiful. These two car- 
 toons stood, one in the palace of the Medici, the other 
 in the hall of the Pope. So long as they remained 
 intact, they were the school of the world. Though the 
 divine Michel Agnolo in later life finished that great 
 chapel of Pope Julius,^ he never rose half-way to the 
 same pitch of power ; his genius never afterwards 
 attained to the force of those first studies. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Now let us return to Piero Torrigiani, who, with 
 my drawing in his hand, spoke as follows : " This 
 Buonarroti and I used, when we were boys, to go into 
 the Church of the Carmine, to learn drawing from the 
 
 The Sistine Chapel in the Vatican. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 27 
 
 chapel of Masaccio.^ It was Buonarroti's habit to 
 banter all who were drawing there ; and one day, 
 among others, when he was annoying me, I got more 
 angry than usual, and clenching my fist, gave him 
 such a blow on the nose, that I felt bone and cartilage 
 go down like biscuit beneath my knuckles ; and this 
 mark of mine he will carry with him to the grave." ^ 
 These words begat in me such hatred of the man, 
 since I was always gazing at the masterpieces of the 
 divine Michel Agnolo, that although I felt a wish to 
 go with him to England, I now could never bear the 
 sight of him. 
 
 All the while I was at Florence, I studied the noble 
 manner of Michel Agnolo, and from this I have never 
 deviated. About that time I contracted a close and 
 familiar friendship with an amiable lad of my own age, 
 who was also in the goldsmith's trade. He was called 
 Francesco, son of Filippo, and grandson of Fra Lippo 
 Lippi, that most excellent painter.^ Through inter- 
 course together, such love grew up between us that, 
 day or night, we never stayed apart. The house where 
 he lived was still full of the fine studies which his 
 
 ^ The Chapel of the Carmine, painted in fresco by Masaccio and some 
 other artist, possibly Filippino Lippi, is still the most important monu- 
 ment of Florentine art surviving from the period preceding Raphael. 
 
 ^ The profile portraits of Michel Angelo Buonarroti confirm this story. 
 They show the bridge of his nose bent in an angle, as though it had 
 been broken. 
 
 * Fra Filippo Lippi was a Carmelite monk, whose frescoes at Prato 
 and Spoleto and oil-paintings in Florence and elsewhere are among the 
 most genial works of the Pre-raphaelite Renaissance. Vasari narrates 
 his love-adventures with Lucrezia Buti, and Robert Browning has 
 drawn a clever portrait of him in his " Men and Women." His son, 
 Filippo or Filippino, was also an able painter, some of whose best work 
 survives in the Strozzi Chapel of S. Maria Novella at Florence, and in 
 the Church of S. Maria Sopra Minerva at Rome. 
 
-28 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 father bad made, bound up in several books of drawings 
 by bis band, and taken from the best antiquities of 
 Rome. The sight of these things filled me with pas- 
 sionate enthusiasm ; and for two years or thereabouts 
 we lived in intimacy. At that time I fashioned a silver 
 bas-relief of the size of a little child's hand. It was 
 intended for the clasp to a man's belt ; for they were 
 then worn as large as that. I carved on it a knot of 
 leaves in the antique style, with figures of children and 
 other masks of great beauty. This piece I made in 
 the workshop of one Francesco Salimbene ; and on its 
 being exhibited to the trade, the goldsmiths praised 
 me as the best young craftsman of their art. 
 
 There was one Giovan Battista, surnamed II Tasso, 
 a wood-carver, precisely of my own age, who one day 
 said to me that if I was willing to go to Rome, he 
 should be glad to join me.^ Now we had this conver- 
 sation together immediately after dinner ; and I being 
 angry with my father for the same old reason of the 
 music, said to Tasso : " You are a fellow of words, not 
 deeds." He answered : " I too have come to anger with 
 my mother ; and if I had cash enough to take me to 
 Rome, I would not turn back to lock the door of that 
 wretched little workshop I call mine." To these words 
 I replied that if that was all that kept him in Flor- 
 ence I had money enough in my pockets to bring us 
 both to Rome. Talking thus and walking onwards, 
 we found ourselves at the gate San Piero Gattolini 
 without noticing that we had got there ; whereupon I 
 said : " Friend Tasso, this is God's doing that we have 
 reached this gate without either you or me noticing 
 
 •^ Tasso was an able artist, mentioned both by Vasari and Pietro 
 Aretino. He stood high in the favour of Duke Cosimo de' Medici, 
 who took his opinion on the work of other craftsmen. 
 
BOOK FIEST. 
 
 29 
 
 that we were there ; and now that I am here, it seems 
 to me that I have finished half the journey." And so, 
 being of one accord, we pursued our way together, say- 
 ing, " Oh, what will our old folks say this evening ? " 
 We then made an agreement not to think more about 
 them till we reached Eome. So we tied our aprons 
 behind our backs, and trudged almost in silence to Siena. 
 When we arrived at Siena, Tasso said (for he had hurt 
 his feet) that he would not go farther, and asked me 
 to lend him money to get back. I made answer : " I 
 should not have enough left to go forward ; you ought 
 indeed to have thought of this on leaving Florence ; 
 and if it is because of your feet that you shirk the 
 journey, we will find a return horse for Eome, which 
 will deprive you of the excuse." Accordingly I hired 
 a horse ; and seeing that he did not answer, I took my 
 way toward the gate of Eome. When he knew that I 
 was firmly resolved to go, muttering between his teeth, 
 and limping as well as he could, he came on behind me 
 very slowly and at a great distance. On reaching the 
 gate, I felt pity for my comrade, and waited for him, 
 and took him on the crupper, saying : " What would 
 our friends speak of us to-morrow, if, having left for 
 Rome, we had not pluck to get beyond Siena ? " Then 
 the good Tasso said I spoke the truth ; and as he was 
 a pleasant fellow, he began to laugh and sing ; and in 
 this way, always singing and laughing, we travelled 
 the whole way to Rome. I had just nineteen years 
 then, and so had the century. 
 
 When we reached Rome, I put myself under a mas- 
 ter, who was known as II Firenzuola. His name was 
 Giovanni, and he came from Firenzuola in Lombardy, 
 a most able craftsman in large vases and big plate of 
 that kind. I showed him part of the model for the 
 
30 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 clasp wliich I had made in Florence at Salimbene's. 
 It pleased him exceedingly ; and turning to one of his 
 journeymen, a Florentine called Giannotto Giannotti, 
 who had been several years with him, he spoke as 
 follows : " This fellow is one of the Florentines who 
 know something, and you are one of those who know 
 nothing." Then I recognised the man, and turned to 
 speak with him ; for before he went to Eome, we often 
 went to draw together, and had been very intimate 
 comrades. He was so put out by the words his master 
 flung at him, that he said he did not recognise me 
 or know who I was ; whereupon I got angry, and cried 
 out : "0 Giannotto, you who were once my friend — 
 for have we not been together in such and such places, 
 and drawn, and ate, and drunk, and slept in company 
 at 3^our house in the country ? I don't want you to 
 bear witness on my behalf to this worthy man, your 
 master, because I hope my hands are such that with- 
 out aid from you they will declare what sort of a fellow 
 I am." 
 
 XIV. 
 
 When I had thus spoken, Firenzuola, who was a man 
 of hot spirit and brave, turned to Giannotto and said to 
 him: " You vile rascal, aren't you ashamed to treat a 
 man who has been so intimate a comrade with you in 
 this way ? " And with the same movement of quick 
 feeling, he faced round and said to me : " Welcome to 
 my workshop ; and do as you have promised ; let your 
 hands declare what man you are." 
 
 He gave me a very fine piece of silver plate to work 
 on for a cardinal. It was a little oblong box, copied 
 from the porphyry sarcophagus before the door of the 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 31 
 
 Rotonda. Beside what I copied, I enriclied it with so 
 many elegant masks of my invention, that my master 
 went about showing it through the art, and boasting 
 that so good a piece of work had been turned out from 
 his shop.^ It was about half a cubit in size, and was so 
 constructed as to serve for a salt-cellar at table. This 
 was the first earning that I touched at Home, and part 
 of it I sent to assist my good father ; the rest I kept for 
 my own use, living upon it while I went about study- 
 ing the antiquities of Rome, until my money failed, 
 and I had to return to the shop for work. Battista del 
 Tasso, my comrade, did not stay long in Eome, but 
 went back to Florence. 
 
 After undertaking some new commissions, I took it 
 into my head, so soon as I had finished them, to change 
 my master ; I had indeed been worried into doing so by 
 a certain Milanese, called Pagolo Arsago.^ My first 
 master, Firenzuola, had a great quarrel about this with 
 Arsago, and abused him in my presence ; whereupon I 
 took up speech in defence of my new master. I said 
 that I was born free, and free I meant to live, and that 
 there was no reason to complain of him, far less of me, 
 since some few crowns of wages were still due to me ; 
 also that I chose to go, like a free journeyman, where it 
 pleased me, knowing I did wrong to no man. My new 
 master then put in with his excuses, saying that he had 
 not asked me to come, and that I should gratify him 
 by returning with Firenzuola. To this I replied that 
 
 ' Cellini's use of the word arte for the art or trade of goldsmiths cor- 
 responds to " the art " as used by English writers early in this century. 
 See Haydon's Autobiography, passim, 
 
 ^ The Italian is sobbillato, which might be also translated inveigled 
 or instigated. But Varchi, the contemporary of Cellini, gives this verb 
 the force of using pressure and boring on until somebody is driven to 
 do soniethincr. 
 
32 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 I was not aware of wronging the latter in any way, 
 and as I had completed his commissions, I chose to be 
 my own master and not the man of others, and that he 
 who wanted me must beg me of myself. Firenzuola 
 cried : " I don't intend to beg you of yourself; I have 
 done with you ; don't show yourself again upon my 
 premises." I reminded him of the money he owed me. 
 He laughed me in the face ; on which I said that if I 
 knew how to use my tools in handicraft as well as he 
 had seen, I could be quite as clever with my sword in 
 claiming the just payment of my labour. While we 
 were exchanging these words^ an old man happened to 
 come up, called Maestro Antonio, of San Marino. He 
 was the chief among the Koman goldsmiths, and had 
 been Firenzuola's master. Hearing what I had to say, 
 which I took good care that he should understand, he 
 immediately espoused my cause, and bade Firenzuola 
 pay me. The dispute waxed warm, because Firenzuola 
 was an admirable swordsman, far better than he was a 
 goldsmith. Yet reason made itself heard ; and I backed 
 my cause with the same spirit, till I got myself paid. 
 In course of time Firenzuola and I became friends, and 
 at his request I stood godfather to one of his children. 
 
 XV. 
 
 I went on working with Pagolo Arsago, and earned 
 a good deal of money, the greater part of which I 
 always sent to my good father. At the end of two 
 years, upon my father's entreaty, I returned to Florence, 
 and put myself once more under Francesco Salimbene, 
 with whom I earned a great deal, and took continual 
 pains to improve in my art. I renewed my intimacy 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 33 
 
 with Francesco di Filippo ; and though I was too much 
 given to pleasure, owing to that accursed music, I 
 never neglected to devote some hours of the day or 
 night to study. At that time I fashioned a silver 
 heart's-key (chiavaquore) , as it was then called. This 
 was a girdle three inches broad, which used to be 
 made for brides, and was executed in half relief with 
 some small figures in the round. It was a commission 
 from a man called RafFaello Lapaccini. I was very badly 
 paid ; but the honour which it brought me was worth 
 far more than the gain. I might have justly made by 
 it. Having at this time worked with many different 
 persons in Florence, I had come to know some worthy 
 men among the goldsmiths, as, for instance, Marcone, 
 my first master; but I also met with others reputed 
 honest, who did all they could to ruin me, and robbed 
 me grossly. When I perceived this, I left their com- 
 pany, and held them for thieves and blackguards. 
 One of the goldsmiths, called Giovanbattista Sogliani, 
 kindly accommodated me with part of his shop, which 
 stood at the side of the New Market near the Landi's 
 bank. There I finished several pretty pieces, and made 
 good gains, and was able to give my family much help. 
 This roused the jealousy of the bad men among my for- 
 mer masters, who were called Salvadore and Michele 
 Guasconti. In the guild of the goldsmiths they had 
 three big shops, and drove a thriving trade. On becom- 
 ing aware of their evil will against me, I complained 
 to certain worthy fellows, and remarked that they ought 
 to have been satisfied with the thieveries they prac- 
 tised on me under the cloak of hypocritical kindness 
 This coming to their ears, they threatened to make me 
 sorely repent of such words ; but I, who knew not what 
 the colour of fear was, paid them little or no heed. 
 VOL. I. c 
 
34 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 It chanced one day that I was leaning against a 
 shop of one of these men, who called out to me, and 
 began partly reproaching, partly bullying. I answered 
 that had they done their duty by me, I should have 
 spoken of them what one speaks of good and worthy 
 men ; but as they had done the contrary, they ought 
 to complain of themselves and not of me. While I was 
 standing there and talking, one of them, named Gher- 
 ardo Guasconti, their cousin, having perhaps been put 
 up to it by them, lay in wait till a beast of burden 
 went by.^ It was a load of bricks. When the load 
 reached me, Gherardo pushed it so violently on my 
 body that I was very much hurt. Turning suddenly 
 round and seeing him laughing, I struck him such a 
 blow on the temple that he fell down, stunned, like one 
 dead. Then I faced round to his cousins, and said : 
 " That's the way to treat cowardly thieves of your 
 sort ; " and when they wanted to make a move upon 
 me, trusting to their numbers, I, whose blood was now 
 well up, laid hands to a little knife I had, and cried : 
 " If one of you comes out of the shop, let the other run 
 for the confessor, because the doctor will have nothing 
 to do here." These words so frightened them that 
 not one stirred to help their cousin. As soon as I 
 had gone, the fathers and sons ran to the Eight, and 
 declared that I had assaulted them in their shops with 
 •sword in hand, a thing which had never yet been seen 
 
 1 The Italian is apposto che passassi una soma. The verb appostare 
 has the double meaning of lying in wait and arranging something 
 on purpose. Cellini's words may mean, caused a beast of burden to 
 pass by. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 35 
 
 in Florence. The magistrates had me summoned. I 
 appeared before them ; and they began to upbraid and 
 cry out upon me — partly, I think, because they saw 
 me in my cloak, while the others were dressed like 
 citizens in mantle and hood ; ^ but also because my 
 adversaries had been to the houses of those magistrates, 
 and had talked with all of them in private, while I, 
 inexperienced in such matters, had not spoken to any 
 of them, trusting in the goodness of my cause. I said 
 that, having received such outrage and insult from 
 Gherardo, and in my fury having only given him a box 
 on the ear, I did not think I deserved such a vehement 
 reprimand. I had hardly time to finish the word box, 
 before Prinzivalle della Stufa,^ who was one of the 
 Eight, interrupted me by saying : " You gave him a 
 blow, and not a box, on the ear." The bell was rung 
 and we were all ordered out, when Prinzivalle spoke 
 thus in my defence to his brother judges : "Mark, sirs, 
 the simplicity of this poor young man, who has accused 
 himself of having given a box on the ear, under the 
 impression that this is of less importance than a 
 blow ; whereas a box on the ear in the New Market 
 carries a fine of twenty-five crowns, while a blow costs 
 little or nothing. He is a young man of admirable 
 talents, and supports his poor family by his labour 
 in great abundance ; I would to God that our city had 
 plenty of this sort, instead of the present dearth of 
 them." 
 
 ^ Varchi says that a man who went about with only his cloak or 
 cape by daytime, if he were not a soldier, was reputed an ill-liver. 
 The Florentine citizens at this time still wore their ancient civil dress 
 of the long gown and hOod called lucco. 
 
 ^ This man was an ardent supporter of the Medici, and in 15 lo 
 organised a conspiracy in their favour against the Gonfalonier Soderini. 
 
36 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Among the magistrates were some Radical fellows 
 with turned-up hoods, who had been influenced by the 
 entreaties and the calumnies of my opponents, because 
 they all belonged to the party of Fra Girolamo; and 
 these men would have had me sent to prison and 
 punished without too close a reckoning.^ But the good 
 Prinzivalle put a stop to that. So they sentenced me 
 to pay four measures of flour, which were to be given 
 as alms to the nunnery of the Murate.^ I was called 
 in again ; and he ordered me not to speak a word 
 under pain of their displeasure, and to perform the 
 sentence they had passed. Then, after giving me 
 another sharp rebuke, they sent us to the chancellor; 
 I muttering all the while, "It was a slap and not a 
 blow," with which we left the Eight bursting with 
 laughter. The chancellor bound us over upon bail on 
 both sides ; but only I was punished by having to pay 
 the four measures of meal. Albeit just then I felt as 
 though I had been massacred, I sent for one of my 
 cousins, called Maestro Annibale, the surgeon, ftxther 
 of Messer Librodoro Librodori, desiring that he should 
 go bail for me.^ He refused to come, which made me 
 
 1 Cellini calls these magistrates arronzinati cappuccetti, a term corre- 
 sponding to our Roundheads. The democratic or anti-Medicean party 
 in Florence at that time, who adhered to the republican principles of 
 Fra Girolamo Savonarola, distinguished themselves by wearing the long 
 tails of their hoods twisted up and turned round their heads. Cellini 
 shows his Medicean sympathies by using this contemptuous term, and 
 by the honourable mention he makes of Prinzivalle della Stufa. 
 
 ^ A convent of closely immured nuns. 
 
 3 The word I have translated massacred above is assassinato. It 
 occurs frequently in Italian of this period, and indicates the extremity 
 of wrong and oiitrage. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 37 
 
 so angry, that, fuming with fury and swelling like an 
 asp, I took a desperate resolve. At this point one may 
 observe how the stars do not so much sway as force our 
 conduct. When I reflected on the great obligations 
 which this Annibale owed my family, my rage grew to 
 such a pitch that, turning wholly to evil, and being 
 also by nature somewhat choleric, I waited till the 
 magistrates had gone to dinner; and when I was alone, 
 and observed that none of their officers were watching 
 me, in the fire of my anger, I left the palace, ran to my 
 shop, seized a dagger, and rushed to the house of my 
 enemies, who were at home and shop together. I found 
 them at table ; and Gherardo, who had been the cause 
 of the quarrel, flung himself upon me. I stabbed him 
 in the breast, piercing doublet and jerkin through and 
 through to the shirt, without however grazing his flesh 
 or doing him the least harm in the world. When I 
 felt my hand go in, and heard the clothes tear, I 
 thought that I had killed him; and seeing him fall 
 terror-struck to earth, I cried : " Traitors, this day is 
 the day on which I mean to murder you all." Father, 
 mother, and sisters, thinking the last day had come, 
 threw themselves upon their knees, screaming out for 
 mercy with all their might ; but I perceiving that they 
 offered no resistance, and that he was stretched for 
 dead upon the ground, thought it too base a thing to 
 touch them. I ran storming down the staircase ; and 
 when I reached the street, I found all the rest of the 
 household, more than twelve persons ; one of them had 
 seized an iron shovel, another a thick iron pipe, one had 
 an anvil, some of them hammers, and some cudgels. 
 When I got among them, raging like a mad bull, I 
 flungr four or five to the earth, and fell down with them 
 myself, continually aiming my dagger now at one and 
 
38 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 now at another. Those who remained upright plied 
 both hands with all their force, giving it me with 
 hammers, cudgels, and anvil ; but inasmuch as God 
 does sometimes mercifully intervene, He so ordered 
 that neither they nor I did any harm to one another. 
 I only lost my cap, on which my adversaries seized, 
 though they had run away from it before, and struck 
 at it with all their weapons. Afterwards, they searched 
 among their dead and wounded, and saw that not a 
 single man was injured. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 I went off in the direction of Santa Maria Novella, 
 and stumbling up against Fra Alessio Strozzi, whom 
 by the way I did not know, I entreated this good friar 
 for the love of God to save my life, since I had com- 
 mitted a great fault. He told me to have no fear ; for 
 had I done every sin in the world, I was yet in perfect 
 safety in his little cell. 
 
 After about an hour, the Eight, in an extraordinary 
 meeting, caused one of the most dreadful bans which 
 ever were heard of to be published against me, announc- 
 ing heavy penalties against who should harbour me or 
 know where I was, without regard to place or to the 
 quality of my protector. My poor afflicted father went 
 to the Eight, threw himself upon his knees, and prayed 
 for mercy for his unfortunate young son. Thereupon 
 one of those Radical fellows, shaking the crest of his 
 twisted hood, stood up and addressed my father with 
 these insulting words : ^ " Get up from there, and 
 
 ^ Un di quclU arrovdlati scotendo la cresta dello arronzinato cappurcio. 
 See above p. 36. The democrats in Cellini's days were called at 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 39 
 
 begone at once, for to-morrow we shall send yonr son 
 into the country with the lances." ^ My poor father 
 had still the spirit to answer : " What God shall have 
 ordained, that will you do, and not a jot or tittle more." 
 Whereto the same man replied that for certain God 
 had ordained as he had spoken. My father said : 
 " The thought consoles me that you do not know for 
 certain;" and quitting their presence, he came to visit 
 me, together with a young man of my own age, called 
 Piero di Giovanni Landi — we loved one another as 
 though we had been brothers. 
 
 Under his mantle the lad carried a first-rate sword 
 and a splendid coat of mail ; and when they found me, 
 my brave father told me what had happened, and what 
 the magistrates had said to him. Then he kissed me 
 on the forehead and both eyes, and gave me his hearty 
 blessing, saying : " May the power and goodness of God 
 be your protection ; " and reaching me the sword and 
 armour, he helped me with his own hands to put them 
 on. Afterwards he added : " Oh, my good son, with 
 these arms in thy hand thou shalt either live or die." 
 Pier Landi, who was present, kept shedding tears ; and 
 when he had given me ten golden crowns, I bade him 
 remove a few hairs from my chin, which were the first 
 down of my manhood. Frate Alessio disguised me 
 like a friar and gave me a lay brother to go with me.^ 
 Quitting the convent, and issuing from the city by the 
 gate of Prato, I went along the walls as far as the 
 Piazza di San Gallo. Then I ascended the slope of 
 
 Florence Arrahhiati or Arrovdlati. In the days of Savonarola this 
 nickname had been given to the ultra-Medicean party or Palleschi. 
 
 ^ Lanciolti. There is some doubt about this word. But it clearly 
 means men armed with lances, at the disposal of the Signory. 
 
 - Un converso, an attendant on the monks. 
 
40 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 Montui, and in one of the first houses there I found a 
 man called II Grassuccio, own brother to Messer Bene- 
 detto da Monte Varchi.^ I flung off my monk's clothes, 
 and became once more a man. Then we mounted 
 two horses, which were waiting there for us, and went 
 by night to Siena. Grassuccio returned to Florence, 
 sought out my father, and gave him the news of my 
 safe escape. In the excess of his joy, it seemed a 
 thousand years to my father till he should meet that 
 member of the Eight who had insulted him ; and when 
 he came across the man, he said : " See you, Antonio, 
 that it was God who knew what had to happen to my 
 son, and not yourself? " To which the fellow answered : 
 " Only let him get another time into our clutches ! " 
 And my father : " I shall spend my time in thanking 
 God that He has rescued him from that fate." 
 
 Ill 
 
 XIX. 
 
 At Siena I waited for the mail to Home, which I 
 afterwards joined ; and when we passed the Paglia, we 
 met a courier carrying news of the new Pope, Clement 
 VII. Upon my arrival in Rome, I went to work in 
 the shop of the master-goldsmith Santi. He was dead ; 
 but a son of his carried on the business. He did not 
 work himself, but intrusted all his commissions to a 
 young man named Lucagnolo from lesi, a country 
 fellow, who while yet a child had come into Santi's 
 service. This man was short but well-proportioned, 
 
 ^ Benedetto da Monte Varchi was the celebrated poet, scholar, and 
 historian of Florence, better known as Varchi. Another of his brothers 
 was a physician of high repute at Florence. They continued through- 
 out Cellini's life to live on terms of intimacy with him. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 41 
 
 and was a more skilful craftsman than any one whom I 
 had met with up to that time ; remarkable for facility 
 and excellent in design. He executed large plate only ; 
 that is to say, vases of the utmost beauty, basons, and 
 such pieces.^ Having put myself to work there, I 
 began to make some candelabra for the Bishop of 
 Salamanca, a Spaniard.^ They were richly chased, so 
 far as that sort of work admits. A pupil of RafFaello 
 da Urbino called Gian Francesco, and commonly known 
 as II Fattore, was a painter of great ability ; and being 
 on terms of friendship with the Bishop, he introduced 
 me to his favour, so that I obtained many commis- 
 sions from that prelate, and earned considerable sums 
 of money. ^ 
 
 During that time I went to draw, sometimes in 
 Michel Agnolo's chapel, and sometimes in the house of 
 Agostino Chigi of Siena, which contained many incom- 
 parable paintings by the hand of that great master 
 Eaffaello.'^ This I did on feast-days, because the house 
 was then inhabited by Messer Gismondo, Agostino's 
 brother. They plumed themselves exceedingly when 
 they saw young men of my sort coming to study in 
 their palaces. Gismondo's wife, noticing my frequent 
 presence in that house — she was a lady as courteous as 
 
 ^ Cellini calls this grosseria. 
 
 - Don Francesco de Bobadilla. He came to Rome in 1517, was shut 
 up with Clement in the Castle of S. Angelo in 1527, and died in 1529 
 after his return to Spain. 
 
 '^ This painter, Gio. Francesco Penni, surnaraed II Fattore, aided 
 Raphael in his Roman frescoes and was much beloved by him. To- 
 gether with Giulio Romano he completed the imperfect Stanze of the 
 Vatican. 
 
 ■* Cellini here alludes to the Sistine Chapel and to the Villa Farnesina 
 in Trastevere, built by the Sienese banker, Agostino Chigi. It was 
 here that Raphael painted his Galatea and the whole fable of Cupid 
 and Psyche. 
 
42 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 could be, and of surpassing beauty — came up to me one 
 day, looked at my drawings, and asked me if I was a 
 sculptor or a painter ; to whom I said I was a gold- 
 smith. She remarked that I drew too well for a gold- 
 smith ; and having made one of her waiting-maids 
 bring a lily of the finest diamonds set in gold, she 
 showed it to me, and bade me value it. I valued it 
 at 800 crowns. Then she said that I had very nearly 
 hit the mark, and asked me whether I felt capable of 
 setting the stones really well. I said that I should 
 much like to do so, and began before her eyes to make 
 a little sketch for it, working all the better because of 
 the pleasure I took in conversing with so lovely and 
 agreeable a gentlewoman. When the sketch was finished, 
 another Roman lady of great beauty joined us ; she had 
 been above, and now descending to the ground-floor, 
 asked Madonna Porzia what she was doing there. She 
 answered with a smile : " I am amusing myself by 
 watching this worthy young man at his drawing; he 
 is as good as he is handsome." I had by this time 
 acquired a trifle of assurance, mixed, however, with some 
 honest bashfulness; so I blushed and said : "Such as I 
 am, lady, I shall ever be most ready to serve you." 
 The gentlewoman, also slightly blushing, said : " You 
 know well that I want you to serve me ; " and reaching 
 me the lily, told me to take it away ; and gave me 
 besides twenty golden crowns which she had in her 
 bag, and added : " Set me the jewel after the fashion 
 you have sketched, and keep for me the old gold in 
 which it is now set." On this the Roman lady observed : 
 " If I were in that young man's body, I should go off 
 without asking leave." Madonna Porzia replied that 
 virtues rarely are at home with vices, and that if I did 
 such a thing, I should strongly belie my good looks of 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 43 
 
 an honest man. Then turning round, she took the 
 Roman lady's hand, and with a pleasant smile said : 
 " Farewell, Benvenuto." I stayed on a short while at 
 the drawing I was making, which was a copy of a Jove 
 by Raffaello. When I had finished it and left the 
 house, I set myself to making a little model of wax, in 
 order to show how the jewel would look when it was 
 completed. This I took to Madonna Porzia, whom I 
 found with the same Roman lady. Both of them were 
 highly satisfied with my work, and treated me so kindly 
 that, being somewhat emboldened, I promised the jewel 
 should be twice as good as the model. Accordingly I 
 set hand to it, and in twelve days I finished it in the 
 form of a fleur-de-lys, as I have said above, ornamenting 
 it with little masks, children, and animals, exquisitely 
 enamelled, whereby the diamonds which formed the lily 
 were more than doubled in effect. 
 
 XX. 
 
 While I was working at this piece, Lucagnolo, of 
 whose ability I have before spoken, showed considerable 
 discontent, telling me over and over again that I might 
 acquire far more profit and honour by helping him to 
 execute large plate, as I had done at first. I made him 
 answer that, whenever I chose, I should always be 
 capable of working at great silver pieces ; but that 
 things like that on which I was now engaged were not 
 commissioned every day ; and beside their bringing no 
 less honour than large silver plate, there was also more 
 profit to be made by them. He laughed me in the face, 
 and said : " Wait and see, Benvenuto ; for by the time 
 that 3'ou have finished that work of yours, I will make 
 
44 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 haste to have finished this vase, which I took in hand 
 when you did the jewel; and then experience shall 
 teach you what profit I shall get from my vase, and 
 what you will get from your ornament." I answered 
 that I was very glad indeed to enter into such a com- 
 petition with so good a craftsman as he was, because 
 the end would show which of us was mistaken. Accord- 
 ingly both the one and the other of us, with a scornful 
 smile upon our lips, bent our heads in grim earnest to 
 the work, which both were now desirous of accomplish- 
 ing ; so that after about ten days, each had finished his 
 undertaking with great delicacy and artistic skill. 
 
 Lucagnolo's was a huge silver piece, used at the table 
 of Pope Clement, into which he flung away bits of bone 
 and the rind of divers fruits, while eating ; an object of 
 ostentation rather than necessity. The vase was adorned 
 with two fine handles, together with many masks, both 
 small and great, and masses of lovely foliage, in as 
 exquisite a style of elegance as could be imagined ; on 
 seeing which, I said it was the most beautiful vase that 
 ever I set eyes on. Thinking he had convinced me, 
 Lucagnolo replied : " Your work seems to me no less 
 beautiful, but we shall soon perceive the difference 
 between the two." So he took his vase and carried it 
 to the Pope, who was very well pleased with it, and 
 ordered at once that he should be paid at the ordinary 
 rate of such large plate. Meanwhile I carried mine to 
 Madonna Porzia, who looked at it with astonishment, 
 and told me I had far surpassed my promise. Then 
 she bade me ask for my reward, whatever I liked ; for 
 it seemed to her my desert was so great that if I craved 
 a castle she could hardly recompense me ; but since that 
 was not in her hands to bestow, she added laughing 
 that I must beg what lay within her power. I answered 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 4> 
 
 that the greatest reward I could desire for my labour 
 was to have satisfied her ladyship. Then, smiling in 
 my turn, and bowing to her, I took my leave, saying I 
 wanted no reward but that. She turned to the Roman 
 lady and said : " You see that the qualities we discerned 
 in him are companied by virtues, and not vices." They 
 both expressed their admiration, and then Madonna 
 Porzia continued : " Friend Benvenuto, have you never 
 heard it said that when the poor give to the rich, the 
 devil laughs ? " I replied : " Quite true ! and yet, in 
 the midst of all his troubles, I should like this time to 
 see him laugh ; " and as I took my leave, she said that 
 this time she had no will to bestow on him that favour. 
 When I came back to the shop, Lucagnolo had the 
 money for his vase in a paper packet ; and on my 
 arrival, he cried out : " Come and compare the price of 
 your jewel with, the price of my plate." I said that 
 he must leave things as they were till the next day, 
 because I hoped that even as my work in its kind 
 was not less excellent than his, so I should be able to 
 show him quite an equal price for it. 
 
 xxr. 
 
 On the day following, Madonna Porzia sent a major- 
 domo of hers to my shop, who called me out, and 
 putting into my hands a paper packet full of money 
 from his lady, told me that she did not choose the 
 devil should have his whole laugh out ; by which she 
 hinted that the money sent me was not the entire pay- 
 ment merited by my industry, and other messages were 
 added worthy of so courteous a lady. Lucagnolo, who 
 was burning to compare his packet with mine, burst 
 
46 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 into the sliop ; then in the presence of twelve journey- 
 men and some neighbours, eager to behold the result 
 of this competition, he seized his packet, scornfully 
 exclaiming " Ou ! ou ! " three or four times, while he 
 poured his money on the counter with a great noise. 
 They were twenty-five crowns in giulios; and he fancied 
 that mine would be four or five crowns di moneta} I 
 for my part, stunned and stifled by his cries, and by 
 the looks and smiles of the bystanders, first peeped 
 into my packet; then, after seeing that it contained 
 nothing but gold, I retired to one end of the counter, 
 and, keeping my eyes lowered and making no noise at 
 all, I lifted it with both hands suddenly above my head, 
 and emptied it like a mill-hopper.^ My coin was twice 
 as much as his ; which caused the onlookers, who had 
 fixed their eyes on me with some derision, to turn round 
 suddenly to him and say : " Lucagnalo, Benvenuto's 
 pieces, being all of gold and twice as many as yours, 
 make a far finer effect." I thought for certain that, 
 what with jealousy and what with shame, Lucagnolo 
 would have fallen dead upon the spot ; and though he 
 took the third part of my gain, since I was a journey- 
 man (for such is the custom of the trade, two-thirds 
 fall to the workman and one-third to the masters of 
 the shop), yet inconsiderate envy had more power in 
 him than avarice : it ought indeed to have worked 
 quite the other way, he being a peasant's son from lesi. 
 He cursed his art and those who taught it him, vowing 
 
 ^ Scudi di giuli and scudi di moneta The giulio was a silver coin 
 worth 56 Italian centimes. The scudi di moneta was worth 10 glulios. 
 Cellini was paid in golden crowns, which had a much higher value. 
 The scudo and the ducato at this epoch were reckoned at 7 lire, the lira 
 at 20 soldi. 
 
 " The packet was funnel-shaped, and Cellini poured the coins out 
 from the broad end. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 47 
 
 that thencefortli he would never woi'k at large plate, 
 but give his whole attention to those whoreson gewgaws, 
 since they were so well paid. Equally enraged on my 
 side, I answered that every bird sang its own note ; 
 that he talked after the fashion of the hovels he came 
 from ; but that I dared swear that I should succeed 
 with ease in making his lubberly lumber, while he 
 would never be successful in my whoreson gewgaws.^ 
 Thus I flung off in a passion, telling him that I would 
 soon show him that I spoke truth. The bystanders 
 openly declared against him, holding him for a lout, 
 as indeed he was, and me for a man, as I had proved 
 myself. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Next day, I went to thank Madonna Porzia, and told 
 her that her ladyship had done the opposite of what 
 she said she would ; for that while I wanted to make 
 the devil laugh, she had made him once more deny 
 God. We both laughed pleasantly at this, and she 
 gave me other commissions for fine and substantial 
 work. 
 
 Meanwhile, I contrived, by means of a pupil of 
 RafFaello da Urbino, to get an order from the Bishop 
 of Salamanca for one of those great water-vessels called 
 acquereccia^ which are used for ornaments to place on 
 sideboards. He wanted a pair made of equal size ; and 
 one of them he intrusted to Lucagnolo, the other to 
 me. Giovan Francesco, the painter I have mentioned, 
 gave us the design.^ Accordingly I set hand with 
 
 ^ The two slang phrases translated above are hordelleric and coglio- 
 neric. 
 
 '^ That is, II Fattore, See above, p. 41. 
 
48 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 marvellous good- will to this piece of plate, and was 
 accommodated with a part of his workshop by a 
 Milanese named Maestro Giovan Piero della Tacca. 
 Having made my preparations, I calculated how much 
 money I should need for certain affairs of my own, and 
 sent all the rest to assist my poor father. 
 
 It so happened that just when this was being paid 
 to him in Florence, he stumbled upon one of those 
 Eadicals who were in the Eight at the time when I 
 got into that little trouble there. It was the very 
 man who had abused him so rudely, and who swore 
 that I should certainly be sent into the country with 
 the lances. Now this fellow had some sons of very 
 bad morals and repute ; wherefore my father said to 
 him : " Misfortunes can happen to anybody, especially 
 to men of choleric humour when they are in the right, 
 even as it happened to my son ; but let the rest of his 
 life bear witness how virtuously I have brought him 
 up. Would God, for your well-being, that your sons 
 may act neither worse nor better toward you than mine 
 do to me. God rendered me able to bring them up 
 as I have done ; and where my own power could not 
 reach, 'twas He who rescued them, against your ex- 
 pectation, out of your violent hands." On leaving the 
 man, he wrote me all this story, begging me for God's 
 sake to practise music at times, in order that I might 
 not lose the fine accomplishment which he had taught 
 me with such trouble. The letter so overflowed with 
 expressions of the tenderest fatherly affection, that I 
 was moved to tears of filial piety, resolving, before he 
 died, to gratify him amply with regard to music. Thus 
 God grants us those lawful blessings which we ask in 
 prayer, nothing doubting. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 49 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 While I was pushing forward Salamanca's vase, I 
 had only one little boy as help, whom I had taken at 
 the entreaty of friends, and half against my own will, 
 to be my workman. He was about fourteen years of 
 age, bore the name of Paulino, and was son to a Roman 
 burgess, who lived upon the income of his property. 
 Paulino was the best-mannered, the most honest, and 
 the most beautiful boy I ever saw in my whole life. 
 His modest ways and actions, together with his super- 
 lative beauty and his devotion to myself, bred in me as 
 great an affection for him as a man's breast can hold. 
 This passionate love led me oftentimes to delight the 
 lad with music ; for I observed that his marvellous 
 features, which by complexion wore a tone of modest 
 melancholy, brightened up, and when I took my cornet, 
 broke into a smile so lovely and so sweet, that I do 
 not marvel at the silly stories which the Greeks have 
 written about the deities of heaven. Indeed, if my 
 boy had lived in those times, he would probably have 
 turned their heads still more.^ He had a sister, named 
 Faustina, more beautiful, I verily believe, than that 
 Faustina about whom the old books gossip so. Some- 
 times he took me to their vineyard, and, so far as I 
 could judge, it struck me that Paulino's good father 
 would have welcomed me as a son-in-law. This affair 
 led me to play more than I was used to do. 
 
 It happened at that time that one Giangiacomo of 
 Cesena, a musician in the Pope's band, and a very 
 excellent performer, sent word through Lorenzo, the 
 
 ^ Gli Arehbe fatti piu uscire de' ganylieri ; would have taken them still 
 more off the hinges. 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 trumpeter of Lucca, who is now in our Duke's service, 
 to inquire whether I was inclined to help them at the 
 Pope's Ferragosto, playing soprano with my cornet in 
 some motets of great beauty selected by them for that 
 occasion.^ Although I had the greatest desire to finish 
 the vase I had begun, yet, since music has a wondrous 
 charm of its own, and also because I wished to please 
 my old father, I consented to join them. During eight 
 days before the festival we practised two hours a day 
 together ; then on the first of August we went to the 
 Belvedere, and while Pope Clement was at table, we 
 played those carefully studied motets so well that his 
 Holiness protested he had never heard music more 
 sweetly executed or with better harmony of parts. He 
 sent for Giangiacomo, and asked him where and how 
 he had procured so excellent a cornet for soprano, and 
 inquired particularly who I was. Giangiacomo told 
 him my name in full. Whereupon the Pope said : " So, 
 then, he is the son of Maestro Giovanni ? " On being 
 assured I was, the Pope expressed his wish to have me 
 in his service with the other bandsmen. Giangiacomo 
 replied : " Most blessed Father, I cannot pretend for 
 certain that you will get him, for his profession, to 
 which he devotes himself assiduously, is that of a gold- 
 smith, and he works in it miraculously well, and earns 
 by it far more than he could do by playing." To this 
 the Pope added : " I am the better inclined to him now 
 that I find him possessor of a talent more than I ex- 
 pected. See that he obtains the same salary as the 
 rest of you ; and tell him from me to join my service, 
 and that I will find work enough by the day for him 
 to do in his other trade." Then stretching out his 
 
 ^ The Ferragosto or FeriiV August i was a festival upon the first of 
 
 Au'nist. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 51 
 
 hand, he gave him a hundred golden crowns of the 
 Camera in a handkerchief, and said : ^ " Divide these 
 so that he may take his share." 
 
 When Giangiacomo left the Pope, he came to us, and 
 related in detail all that the Pope had said ; and after 
 dividing the money between the eight of us, and giving 
 me my share, he said to me : " Now I am going to have 
 you inscribed among our company." I replied : " Let 
 the day pass ; to-morrow I will give my answer." 
 When I left them, I went meditating whether I ouo-ht 
 to accept the invitation, inasmuch as I could not but 
 suffer if I abandoned the noble studies of my art. The 
 following night my father appeared to me in a dream, 
 and begged me with tears of tenderest affection, for 
 God's love and his, to enter upon this engagement. 
 Methought I answered that nothing would induce me 
 to do so. In an instant he assumed so horrible an 
 aspect as to frighten me out of my wits, and cried : "If 
 you do not, you will have a father's curse ; but if you 
 do, may you be ever blessed by me ! " When I woke, 
 I ran, for very fright, to have myself inscribed. Then 
 I wrote to my old father, telling him the news, which 
 so affected him with extreme joy that a sudden fit ot 
 illness took him, and well-nigh brought him to death's 
 door. In his answer to my letter, he told me that he 
 too had dreamed nearly the same as I had. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Knowing now that I had gratified my father's honest 
 wish, I began to think that everything would prosper 
 with me to a glorious and honourable end. Accordingly, 
 ^ The Camera Apostolica was the Roman Exchequer. 
 
52 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 I set myself with indefatigable industry to the comple- 
 tion of the vase I had begun for Salamanca. That pre- 
 late was a very extraordinary man, extremely rich, but 
 difficult to please. He sent daily to learn what I was 
 doing ; and when his messenger did not find me at 
 home, he broke into fury, saying that he would take 
 the work out of my hands and give it to others to finish. 
 This came of my slavery to that accursed music. Still 
 I laboured diligently night and day, until, when I had 
 brought my work to a point when it could be exhibited, 
 I submitted it to the inspection of the Bishop, This so 
 increased his desire to see it finished, that I was sorry 
 I had shown it. At the end of three months I had it 
 ready, with little animals and foliage and masks, as 
 beautiful as one could hope to see. No sooner was it 
 done than I sent it by the hand of my workman, Paulino, 
 to show that able artist Lucagnolo, of whom I have 
 spoken above. Paulino, with the grace and beauty 
 which belonged to him, spoke as follows : " Messer 
 Lucagnolo, Benvenuto bids me say that he has sent to 
 show you his promises and your lumber, expecting in 
 return to see from you his gewgaws." This message 
 given, Lucagnolo took up the vase and carefully examined 
 it ; then he said to Paulino : " Fair boy, tell your master 
 that he is a great and able artist, and that I beg him to 
 be willing to have me for a friend, and not to engage 
 in aught else." The mission of that virtuous and 
 marvellous lad caused me the greatest joy; and then 
 the vase was carried to Salamanca, who ordered it to be 
 valued. Lucagnolo took part in the valuation, estimat- 
 ing and praising it far above my own opinion. Sala- 
 manca, lifting up the vase, cried like a true Spaniard : 
 " I swear by God that I will take as long in paying him 
 as he has lagged in making it." "When I heard this, I 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 S3 
 
 was exceedingly put out, and fell to cursing all Spain 
 and every one who wished well to it. 
 
 Amongst other beautiful ornaments, this vase had 
 a handle, made all of one piece, with most delicate 
 mechanism, which, when a spring was touched, stood 
 upright above the mouth of it. While the prelate 
 was one day ostentatiously exhibiting my vase to 
 certain Spanish gentlemen of his suite, it chanced that 
 one of them, upon Monsignor's quitting the room, 
 began roughly to work the handle, and as the gentle 
 spring which moved it could not bear his loutish 
 violence, it broke in his hand. Aware what mischief 
 he had done, he begged the butler who had charge of 
 the Bishop's plate to take it to the master who had 
 made it, for him to mend, and promised to pay what 
 price he asked, provided it was set to rights at once. 
 So the vase came once more into my hands, and I pro- 
 mised to put it forthwith in order, which indeed I did. 
 It was brought to me before dinner; and at twenty- 
 two o'clock the man who brought it returned, all in a 
 sweat, for he had run the whole way, Monsignor having 
 again asked for it to show to certain other gentle- 
 men.^ The butler, then, without giving me time to 
 utter a word, cried : " Quick, quick, bring the vase." 
 I, who wanted to act at leisure and not to give it up to 
 him, said that I did not mean to be so quick. The 
 serving-man got into such a rage that he made as 
 though he would put one hand to his sword, while 
 
 ^ The Italians reckoned time from sundown till sundown, counting 
 twenty-four hours. Twenty-two o'clock was therefore two hours before 
 nightfall. One hour of the night was one hour after nightfall, and so 
 forth. By this system of reckoning, it is clear that the hours varied 
 with the season of the year ; and unless we know the exact month in 
 which an event took place, we cannot translate any hour into terms of 
 our own system. 
 
54 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 with the other he threatened to break the shop open. 
 To this I put a stop at once with my own weapon, 
 using therewith spirited language, and saying : " I am 
 not going to give it you ! Go and tell Monsignor, your 
 master, that I want the money for my work before I 
 let it leave this shop." When the fellow saw he could 
 not obtain it by swaggering, he fell to praying me, as 
 one prays to the Cross, declaring that if I would only 
 give it up, he would take care I should be paid. These 
 words did not make me swerve from my purpose ; but 
 I kept on saying the same thing. At last, despairing 
 of success, he swore to come with Spaniards enough to 
 cut me in pieces. Then he took to his heels ; while 
 I, who inclined to believe partly in their murderous 
 attack, resolved that I would defend myself with cour- 
 age. So I got an admirable little gun ready, which I 
 used for shooting game, and muttered to myself: "He 
 who robs me of my property and labour may take my 
 life too, and welcome." While I was carrying on this 
 debate in my own mind, a crowd of Spaniards arrived, 
 led by their majordomo, who, with the headstrong 
 rashness of his race, bade them go in and take the vase 
 and give me a good beating. Hearing these words, I 
 showed them the muzzle of my gun, and prepared to fire, 
 and cried in a loud voice : " Renegade Jews, traitors, 
 is it thus that one breaks into houses and shops in our 
 city of Rome ? Come as many of you thieves as like, 
 an inch nearer to this wicket, and I'll blow all their 
 brains out with my gun." Then I turned the muzzle 
 toward their majordomo, and making as though I would 
 discharge it, called out : " And you big thief, who are 
 egging them on, I mean to kill you first." He clapped 
 spurs to the jennet he was riding, and took flight head- 
 long. The commotion we were making stirred np all 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 55 
 
 the neighbours, who came crowding round, together 
 with some Roman gentlemen who chanced to pass, and 
 cried : " Do but kill the renegades, and we will stand 
 by you." These words had the effect of frightening 
 the Spaniards in good earnest. They withdrew, and 
 were compelled by the circumstances to relate the 
 whole affair to Monsignor. Being a man of inordinate 
 haughtiness, he rated the members of his household, 
 both because they had engaged in such an act of 
 violence, and also because, having begun, they had not 
 gone through with it. At this juncture the painter, 
 who had been concerned in the whole matter, came in, 
 and the Bishop bade him go and tell me that if I did 
 not bring the vase at once, he would make mincemeat 
 of me ; ^ but if I brought it, he would pay its price 
 down. These threats were so far from terrifying me, 
 that I sent him word I was going immediately to lay 
 my case before the Pope. 
 
 In the meantime, his anger and my fear subsided ; 
 Avhereupon, being guaranteed by some Eoman noblemen 
 of high degree that the prelate would not harm me, 
 and having assurance that I should be paid, I armed 
 myself with a large poniard and my good coat of mail, 
 and betook myself to his palace, where he had drawn 
 up all his household. I entered, and Paulino followed 
 with the silver vase. It was just like passing through 
 the Zodiac, neither more nor less ; for one of them had 
 the face of the lion, another of the scorpion, a third of 
 the crab. However, we passed onward to the presence 
 of the rascally priest, who spouted out a torrent of such 
 language as only priests and Spaniards have at their 
 command. In return I never raised my eyes to look 
 at him, nor answered word for word. That seemed to 
 
 ^ Lit. "the largest piece left of me should be my ears." 
 
56 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 augment the fuiy of liis anger ; and causing paper to 
 be put before me, he commanded me to write an 
 acknowledgment to the effect that I had been amply 
 satisfied and paid in full. Then I raised my head, and 
 said I should be very glad to do so when I had received 
 the money. The Bishop's rage continued to rise ; 
 threats and recriminations were flung about ; but at 
 last the money was paid, and I wrote the receipt. Then 
 I departed, glad at heart and in high spirits. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 When Pope Clement heard the story — he had seen 
 the vase before, but it was not shown him as my work 
 — he expressed much pleasure and spoke warmly in my 
 praise, publicly saying that he felt very favourably 
 toward me. This caused Monsignor Salamanca to 
 repent that he had hectored over me ; and in order to 
 make up our quarrel, he sent the same painter to 
 inform me that he meant to give me large commissions. 
 I replied that I was willing to undertake them, but 
 that I should require to be paid in advance. This 
 speech too came to Pope Clement's ears, and made him 
 laugh heartily. Cardinal Cibo was in the presence, 
 and the Pope narrated to him the whole history 
 of my dispute with the Bishop.^ Then he turned 
 to one of his people, and ordered him to go on sup- 
 plying me with work for the palace. Cardinal Cibo 
 sent for me, and after some time spent in agree- 
 able conversation, gave me the order for a large vase, 
 
 ^ Innocenzio Cibo Malaspina, Archbishop of Genoa, and nephew 
 of Lorenzo de' Medici. He was a prelate of vast wealth and a great 
 patron of arts and letters. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 57 
 
 bigger than Salamanca's. I likewise obtained commis- 
 sions from Cardinal Oornaro, and many others of the 
 Holy College, especially Eidolfi and Salviati; they all 
 kept me well employed, so that I earned plenty of 
 money.^ 
 
 Madonna Porzia now advised me to open a shop of 
 my own. This I did ; and I never stopped working 
 for that excellent and gentle lady, who paid me exceed- 
 ing-ly well, and by whose means perhaps it was that I 
 came to make a jfigure in the world. 
 
 I contracted close friendship with Signor Gabbriello 
 Ceserino, at that time Gonfalonier of Eome, and exe- 
 cuted many pieces for him. One, among the rest, is 
 worthy of mention. It was a large golden medal to 
 wear in the hat. I engraved upon it Leda with her 
 swan ; and being very well pleased with the workman- 
 ship, he said he should like to have it valued, in order 
 that I might be properly paid. Now, since the medal 
 was executed with consummate skill, the valuers of the 
 trade set a far higher price on it than he had thought 
 of. I therefore kept the medal, and got nothing for 
 my pains. The same sort of adventures happened in 
 this case as in that of Salamanca's vase. But I shall 
 pass such matters briefly by, lest they hinder me from 
 telling things of greater importance. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Since I am writing my life, I must from time to 
 
 ' Marco Cornaro was a brother of Caterina, the Queen of Cyprus. 
 He obtained the hat in 1492. Niccolo Ridolfi was a nephew of Leo X. 
 Giovanni Salviati, the son of Jacopo mentioned above, p. 13, was also 
 a nephew of Leo X., who gave him the hat in 15 17. 
 
58 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 time diverge from my profession in order to describe 
 with brevity, if not in detail, some incidents which 
 have no bearing on my career as artist. On the morning 
 of Saint John's Day I happened to be dining with 
 several men of our nation, painters, sculptors, gold- 
 smiths, amongst the most notable of whom was Rosso 
 and Gianfrancesco, the pupil of Raffaello.^ I had 
 invited them without restraint or ceremony to the place 
 of our meeting ; and they were all laughing and joking, 
 as is natural when a crowd of men come together to 
 make merry on so great a festival. It chanced that a 
 light-brained swaggering young fellow passed by ; he 
 was a soldier of Rienzo da Ceri, who, when he heard 
 the noise that we were making, gave vent to a string 
 of opprobrious sarcasms upon the folk of Florence.^ I, 
 who was the host of those great artists and men of 
 worth, taking the insult to myself, slipped out quietly 
 without being observed, and went up to him. I ought 
 to say that he had a punk of his there, and was going 
 on with his stupid ribaldries to amuse her. When I 
 met him, I asked if he was the rash fellow who was 
 speaking evil of the Florentines. He answered at once: 
 " I am that man." On this I raised my hand, struck 
 him in the face, and said : " And I am this man." 
 
 ^ St. John's Day was the great Florentine festival, on which all the 
 Giiilds went in procession with pageants through the city. Of the 
 Florentine painter, II Rosso, or Maitre Roux, this is the first mention 
 by Cellini. He went to France in 1534, and died an obscure death 
 there in 1541. 
 
 ^ This Rienzo, Renzo, or Lorenzo da Ceri, was a captain of adven- 
 turers or Condottiere, who hired his mercenary forces to paymasters. 
 He defended Crema for the Venetians in 15 14, and conquered Urbino 
 for the Pope in 15 15. Afterwards he fought for the French in the 
 Italian wars. We shall hear more of him again during the sack of 
 Rome. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 59 
 
 Then we each of us drew our swords with spirit ; but 
 the fray had hardly begun when a crowd of persons 
 intervened, who rather took my part than not, hearing 
 and seeing that I was in the right. 
 
 On the following day a challenge to fight with him 
 was brought me, which I accepted very gladly, saying 
 that I expected to complete this job far quicker than 
 those of the other ai't I practised. So I went at once 
 to confer with a fine old man called Bevilacqua, who 
 was reputed to have been the first sword of Italy, 
 because he had fought more than twenty serious duels 
 and had always come off with honour. This excellent 
 man was a great friend of mine ; he knew me as an 
 artist, and had also been concerned as intermediary in 
 certain ugly quarrels between me and others. Accord- 
 ingly, when he had learned my business, he answered 
 with a smile : " My Benvenuto, if you had an affair 
 with Mars, I am sure you would come out with honour, 
 because through all the years that I have known you, 
 I have never seen you wrongfully take up a quarrel." 
 So he consented to be my second, and we repaired with 
 sword in hand to the appointed place; but no blood 
 was shed, for my opponent made the matter up, and I 
 came with much credit out of the affair. ^ I will not 
 add further particulars ; for though they would be very 
 interesting in their own way, I wish to keep both space 
 and words for my art, which has been my chief induce- 
 ment to write as I am doing, and about which I shall 
 have only too much to say. 
 
 The spirit of honourable rivalry impelled me to 
 attempt some other masterpiece, which should equal, 
 
 ^ The Italian, restando dal inio avversario, seems to mean that Cellini's 
 opponent proposed an accommodation, apologised, or stayed the duel at 
 a certain point. 
 
6o 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 i 
 
 or even surpass, tlie productions of that able craftsman, 
 Lucagnolo, whom I have mentioned. Still I did not 
 on this account neglect my own fine art of jewellery ; 
 and so both the one and the other wrought me much 
 profit and more credit, and in both of them I continued 
 to produce things of marked originality. There was at 
 that time in Eome a very able artist of Perugia named 
 Lautizio, who worked only in one department, where he 
 was sole and unrivalled throughout the world.^ You 
 must know that at Eome every cardinal has a seal, 
 upon which his title is engraved, and these seals are 
 made just as large as a child's hand of about twelve 
 years of age ; and, as I have already said, the cardinal's 
 title is engraved upon the seal together with a great 
 many ornamental figures. A well-made article of the 
 kind fetches a hundred, or more than a hundred crowns. 
 This excellent workman, like Lucagnolo, roused in nie 
 some honest rivalry, although the art he practised is far 
 remote from the other branches of gold-smithery, and 
 consequently Lautizio was not skilled in making any- 
 thing but seals. I gave my mind to acquiring his craft 
 also, although I found it very difficult ; and, unrepelled 
 by the trouble which it gave me, I went on zealously 
 upon the path of profit and improvement. 
 
 There was in Rome another most excellent craftsman 
 of ability, who was a Milanese named Messer Cara- 
 dosso.^ He dealt in nothing but little chiselled medals, 
 made of plates of metal, and such-like things. I have 
 seen of his some paxes in half relief, and some Christs 
 
 ^ See Cellini's Treatise Orificcria, cap. vi., for more particulars about 
 this artist. 
 
 - His real name was Ambrogio Foppa. The nickname Caradosso is 
 said to have stuck to him in consequence of a Spaniard calling him 
 Bear's-face in his own tongue. He struck Leo X.'s coins ; and we 
 possess some excellent medallion portraits by his hand. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 6i 
 
 a palm in length wrought of the thinnest golden plates, 
 so exquisitely done that I esteemed him the greatest 
 master in that kind I had ever seen, and envied him 
 more than all the rest together. There were also other 
 masters who worked at medals carved in steel, which 
 may be called the models and true guides for those 
 who aim at striking coins in the most perfect style. 
 All these divers arts I set myself with unflagging 
 industry to learn. 
 
 I must not omit the exquisite art of enamelling, in 
 which I have never know any one excel save a Floren- 
 tine, our countryman, called Amerigo.^ I did not 
 know him, but was well acquainted with his incompar- 
 able masterpieces. Nothing in any part of the world 
 or by any craftsman that I have seen, approached the 
 divine beauty of their workmanship. To this branch 
 too I devoted myself with all my strength, although 
 it is extremely difficult, chiefly because of the fire, 
 which, after long time and trouble spent in other pro- 
 cesses, has to be applied at last, and not unfrequently 
 brings the whole to ruin. In spite of its great diffi- 
 culties, it gave me so much pleasure that I looked upon 
 them as recreation ; and this came from the special 
 gift which the God of nature bestowed on me, that is 
 to say, a temperament so happy and of such excellent 
 parts that I was freely able to accomplish whatever it 
 pleased me to take in hand. The various departments 
 of art which I have described are very different one 
 from the other, so that a man who excels in one of 
 them, if he undertakes the others, hardly ever achieves 
 the same success ; whereas I strove with all my power to 
 become equally versed in all of them ; and in the proper 
 place I shall demonstrate that I attained my object. 
 
 ^ For him, consult Cellini's Orcficerla. 
 
62 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 I* 
 
 is 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 At that time, while I was still a young man of about 
 twenty-three, there raged a plague of such extraordinary 
 violence that many thousands died of it every day in 
 Rome. Somewhat terrified at this calamity, I began 
 to take certain amusements, as my mind suggested, and 
 for a reason which I will presently relate. I had formed 
 a habit of going on feast-days to the ancient buildings, 
 and copying parts of them in wax or with the pencil ; 
 and since these buildings are all ruins, and the ruins 
 house innumerable pigeons, it came into my head to 
 use my gun against these birds. So then, avoiding 
 all commerce with people, in my terror of the plague, 
 I used to put a fowling-piece on my boy Pagolino's 
 shoulder, and he and I went out alone into the ruins ; 
 and oftentimes we came home laden with a cargo of the 
 fattest pigeons. I did not care to charge my gun with 
 more than a single ball ; and thus it was by pure skill 
 in the art that I filled such heavy bags. I had a fowl- 
 ing-piece which I had made myself; inside and out it 
 was as bright as any mirror. I also used to make a 
 very fine sort of powder, in doing which I discovered 
 secret processes, beyond any which have yet been found ; 
 and on this point, in order to be brief, I will give but 
 one particular, which will astonish good shots of every 
 degree. This is, that when I charged my gun with 
 powder weighing one-fifth of the ball, it carried two 
 hundred paces point-blank. It is true that the great 
 delight I took in this exercise bid fair to withdraw me 
 from my art and studies ; yet in another way it gave 
 me more than it deprived me of, seeing that each time 
 I went out shooting I returned with greatly better 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 63 
 
 health, because the open air was a benefit to my con- 
 stitution. My natural temperament was melancholy, 
 and while I was taking these amusements, my heart 
 leapt up with joy, and I found that I could work better 
 and with far greater mastery than when I spent my 
 whole time in study and manual labour. In this way 
 my gun, at the end of the game, stood me more in profit 
 than in loss. 
 
 It was also the cause of my making acquaintance with 
 certain hunters after curiosities, who followed in the 
 track ^ of those Lombard peasants who used to come to 
 Rome to till the vineyards at the proper season. While 
 digging the ground, they frequently turned up antique 
 medals, agates, chrysoprases, cornelians, and cameos ; 
 also sometimes jewels, as, for instance, emeralds, sap- 
 phires, diamonds, and rubies. The peasants used to 
 sell things of this sort to the traders for a mere trifle ; 
 and I very often, when I met them, paid the latter 
 several times as many golden crowns as they had given 
 giulios for some object. Independently of the profit I 
 made by this traffic, which was at least tenfold, it 
 brought me also into agreeable relations with nearly all 
 the cardinals of Rome. I will only touch upon a few 
 . of the most notable and rarest of these curiosities. 
 There came into my hands, among many other frag- 
 ments, the head of a dolphin about as big as a good- 
 sized ballot-bean. Not only was the style of this head 
 extremely beautiful, but nature had here far surpassed 
 art ; for the stone was an emerald of such good colour, 
 that the man who bought it from me for tens of crowns 
 sold it again for hundreds after setting it as a finger- 
 ring. I will mention another kind of gem ; this was a 
 magnificent topaz ; and here art equalled nature ; it 
 
 ^ Stavano alle vdetle. Perhaps Z« 2/ in wait for. 
 
64 LIFE or BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 was as large as a big hazel-nut, with the head of Minerva 
 in a style of inconceivable beauty. I remember yet 
 another precious stone, different from these ; it was a 
 cameo, engraved with Hercules binding Cerberus of the 
 triple throat ; such was its beauty and the skill of its 
 workmanshipj that our great Michel Agnolo protested 
 he had never seen anything so wonderful. Among 
 many bronze medals, I obtained one upon which was a 
 head of Jupiter. It was the largest that had ever been 
 seen ; the head of the most perfect execution ; and it 
 had on the reverse side a very fine design of some little 
 figures in the same style. I might enlarge at great 
 length on this curiosity ; but I will refrain for fear of 
 being prolix. 
 
 XXYIII. 
 
 As I have said above, the plague had broken out in 
 Home ; but though I must return a little way upon 
 my steps, I shall not therefore abandon the main path 
 of my history. There arrived in Kome a surgeon of 
 the highest renown, who was called Maestro Giacomo 
 da Carpi. ^ This able man, in the course of his other 
 practice, undertook the most desperate cases of the so- 
 called French disease. In Rome this kind of illness is 
 very partial to the priests, and especially to the richest 
 of them. When, therefore, Maestro Giacomo had made 
 his talents known, he professed to work miracles in the 
 treatment of such cases by means of certain fumiga- 
 
 ^ Giacomo Berengario da Carpi was, in fact, a great phj'sician, surgeon, 
 and student of anatomj'. He is said to have been the first to use 
 mercury in the cure of syphilis, a disease which was devastating Italy 
 after the year 1495. He amassed a large fortune, which, when he died 
 at Ferrara about 1530, he bequeathed to the Duke there. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 tions; but he only undertook a cure after stipulating 
 for his fees, which he reckoned not by tens, but by 
 hundreds of crowns. He was a great connoisseur in 
 the arts of design. Chancing to pass one day before 
 my shop, he saw a lot of drawings which I had laid 
 upon the counter, and among these were several designs 
 for little vases in a capricious style, which I had sketched 
 for my amusement. These vases were in quite a dif- 
 ferent fashion from any which had been seen up to that 
 date. He was anxious that I should finish one or two 
 of them for him in silver ; and this I did with the 
 fullest satisfaction, seeing they exactly suited my own 
 fancy. The clever surgeon paid me very well ; and yet 
 the honour which the vases brought me was worth a 
 hundred times as much ; for the best craftsmen in the 
 goldsmith's trade declared they had never seen anything 
 more beautiful or better executed. 
 
 No sooner had I finished them than he showed them 
 to the Pope ; and the next day following he betook 
 himself away from Rome. He was a man of much 
 learning-, who used to discourse wonderfully about 
 medicine. The Pope would fain have had him in his 
 service, but he replied that he would not take service 
 with anybody in the world, and that whoso had need of 
 him might come to seek him out. He was a person of 
 great sagacity, and did wisely to get out of Rome ; for 
 not many months afterwards, all the patients he had 
 treated grew so ill that they were a hundred times 
 worse off than before he came. He would certainly 
 have been murdered if he had stopped. He showed 
 my little vases to several persons of quality ; amongst 
 others, to the most excellent Duke of Ferrara, and pre- 
 tended that he had got them from a great lord in 
 Rome, by telling this nobleman that if he wanted to 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
66 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 "be cured, lie must give liim those two vases ; and that 
 the lord had answered that they were antique, and 
 besought him to ask for anything else which it might 
 be convenient for him to give, provided only he would 
 leave him those ; but, according to his own account. 
 Maestro Giacomo made as though he would not under- 
 take the cure, and so he got them. 
 
 I was told this by Messer Alberto Bendedio in 
 Ferrara, who with great ostentation showed me some 
 earthenware copies he possessed of them.^ Thereupon 
 I laughed, and as I said nothing, Messer Alberto 
 Bendedio, who was a haughty man, jQew into a rage 
 and said : " You are laughing at them, are you ? And 
 I tell you that during the last thousand j^ears there has 
 not been born a man capable of so much as copying 
 them." I then, not caring to deprive them of so 
 eminent a reputation, kept silence, and admired them 
 with mute stupefaction. It was said to me in Eome 
 by many great lords, some of whom were my friends, 
 that the work of which I have been speaking was in 
 their opinion of marvellous excellence and genuine 
 antiquity ; whereupon, emboldened by their praises, I 
 revealed that I had made them. As they would not 
 believe it, and as I wished to prove that I had spoken 
 truth, I was obliged to bring evidence and to make 
 new drawings of the vases ; for my word alone was 
 not enough, inasmuch as Maestro Giacomo had cun- 
 ningly insisted upon carrying off the old drawings 
 with him. By this little job I earned a fair amount 
 of money. 
 
 ^ See below, Book II. Chap, viii., for a full account of this incident 
 at Ferrara. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 67 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Tlie plague went dragging on for many months, but 
 I had as yet managed to keep it at bay ; for though 
 several of my comrades were dead, I survived in health 
 and freedom. Now it chanced one evening that an 
 intimate comrade of mine brought home to supper a 
 Bolognese prostitute named Faustina. She was a very 
 fine woman, but about thirty yeai's of age; and she 
 had with her a little serving-girl of thirteen or fourteen. 
 Faustina belonging to my friend, I would not have 
 touched her for all the gold in the world ; and though 
 she declared she was madly in love with me, I remained 
 steadfast in my loyalty. But after they had gone to 
 bed, I stole away the little serving-girl, who was quite 
 a fresh maid, and woe to her if her mistress had known 
 of it! The result was that I enjoyed a very pleasant 
 night, far more to my satisfaction than if I had passed 
 it with Faustina. I rose upon the hour of breaking 
 fast, and felt tired, for I had travelled many miles that 
 night, and was wanting to take food, when a crushing 
 headache seized me ; several boils appeared on my left 
 arm, together with a carbuncle which showed itself 
 just beyond the palm of the left hand where it joins 
 the wrist. Everybody in the house was in a panic ; 
 my friend, the cow and the calf, all fled. Left alone 
 there with my poor little prentice, who refused to 
 abandon me, I felt stifled at the heart, and made up 
 my mind for certain I was a dead man. 
 
 Just then the father of the lad went by, who was phy- 
 sician to the Cardinal lacoacci,^ and lived as member of 
 
 ^ Probably Doinenico lacobacci, who obtained the hat in 15 17. 
 
68 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 that prelate's household.^ The boy called out : " Come, 
 father, and see Benvenuto ; he is in bed with some 
 trifling indisposition," Without thinking what my 
 complaint might be, the doctor came up at once, and 
 when he had felt my pulse, he saw and felt what was 
 very contrary to his own wishes. Turning round to 
 his son, he said : " traitor of a child, you've ruined 
 me ; how can I venture now into the Cardinal's pre- 
 sence?" His son made answer: "Why, father, this 
 man my master is worth far more than all the cardinals 
 in Rome." Then the doctor turned to me and said : 
 " Since I am here, I will consent to treat you. But of 
 one thing only I warn you, that if you have enjoyed 
 a woman, you are doomed." To this I replied : " I 
 did so this very night." He answered : " With whom, 
 and to what extent ? " " I said : " Last night, and with 
 a girl in her earliest maturity." Upon this, perceiving 
 that he had spoken foolishly, he made haste to add : 
 " Well, considering the sores are so new, and have not 
 yet begun to stink, and that the remedies will be taken 
 in time, you need not be too much afraid, for I have 
 good hopes of curing you." When he had prescribed 
 for me and gone away, a very dear friend of mine, 
 call Giovanni Rigogli, came in, who fell to commise- 
 rating my great suffering and also my desertion by 
 ray comrade, and said : " Be of good cheer, my Ben- 
 venuto, for I will never leave your side until I see you 
 restored to health." I told him not to come too close, 
 since it was all over with me. Only I besought him to 
 be so kind as to take a considerable quantity of crowns, 
 Avhich were lying in a little box near my ' bed, and 
 when God had thought fit to remove me from this world, 
 
 ^ A sua provisione stava, i.e., he was in the Cardinal's regular pay. 
 2 Quanta, Perhaps we ought to read quando — ichen ? 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 69 
 
 to send tliem to my poor father, writing pleasantly to 
 him, in the way I too had done, so far as that appalling 
 season of the plague permitted.^ My beloved friend 
 declared that he had no intention whatsoever of leaving 
 me, and that come what might, in life or death, he 
 knew very well what was his duty toward a friend. 
 And so we went on by the help of God ; and the admir- 
 able remedies which I had used began to work a great 
 improvement, and I soon came well out of that dread- 
 ful sickness. 
 
 The sore was still open, with a plug of lint inside it 
 and a plaster above, when I went out riding on a little 
 wild pony. He' was covered with hair four fingers 
 long, and was exactly as big as a well-grown bear; 
 indeed he looked just like a bear. I rode out on him 
 to visit the painter Rosso, who was then living in the 
 country, toward Civita Yecchia, at a place of Count 
 Anguillara's, called Cervetera. I found my friend, 
 and he was very glad to see me ; whereupon I said : 
 " I am come to do to you that which you did to me so 
 many months ago." He burst out laughing, embraced 
 and kissed me, and begged me for the Count's sake to 
 keep quiet. I stayed in that place about a month, 
 with much content and gladness, enjoying good wines 
 and excellent food, and treated with the greatest kind- 
 ness by the Count ; every day I used to ride out alone 
 along the sea-shore, where I dismounted, and filled my 
 pockets with all sorts of pebbles, snail-shells, and sea- 
 shells of great rarity and beauty. 
 
 ^ Come ancora io avevo fatto secondo Vusanza che promettava quell' 
 arrabhiata stagione. I am not sure that I have given the right sense in 
 the text above. Leclanche interprets the words thus : " that I too had 
 fared according to the wont of that appalling season," i.e., had died of 
 the plague. But I think the version in my sense is more true both to 
 Italian and to Cellini's special style. 
 
•JO LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 On the last day (for after this I went there no more) 
 I was attacked by a band of men, who had disguised 
 themselves, and disembarked from a Moorish privateer. 
 When they thought that they had run me into a cer- 
 tain passage, where it seemed impossible that I should 
 escape from their hands, I suddenly mounted my 
 pony, resolved to be roasted or boiled alive at that 
 pass perilous, seeing I had little hope to evade one or 
 the other of these fates ; ^ but, as God willed, my pony, 
 who was the same I have described above, took an 
 incredibly wide jump, and brought me off in safety, 
 for which I heartily thanked God. I told the story to 
 the Count ; he ran to arms ; but we saw the galleys 
 setting out to sea. The next day following I went 
 back sound and with good cheer to Rome, 
 
 XXX. 
 
 The plague had by this time almost died out, so 
 that the survivors, when they met together alive, 
 rejoiced with much delight in one another's company. 
 This led to the formation of a club of painters, sculptors, 
 and goldsmiths, the best that were in. Rome ; and the 
 founder of it was a sculptor with the name of Michel 
 Agnolo.^ He was a Sienese and a man of great ability, 
 who could hold his own against any other workman in 
 that art; but, above all, he was the most amusing 
 comrade and the heartiest good fellow in the universe. 
 Of all the members of the club, he was the eldest, and 
 
 1 i.e., to escape either being drowned or shot. 
 
 2 This sculptor came to Rome with his compatriot Baldassare Peruzzi, 
 and was employed upon the monument of Pope Adrian VI., which he 
 executed with some help from Tribolo. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 71 
 
 yet tlie youngest from the strength and vigour of his 
 body. We often came together; at the very least 
 twice a week. I must not omit to mention that our 
 society counted Giulio Romano, the painter, and Gian 
 Francesco, both of them celebrated pupils of the mighty 
 Eaffaello da Urbino. 
 
 After many and many merry meetings, it seemed 
 good to our worthy president that for the following 
 Sunday we should repair to supper in his house, and 
 that each one of us should be obliged to bring with 
 him his crow (such was the nickname Michel Agnolo 
 gave to women in the club), and that whoso did not 
 bring one should be sconced by paying a supper to 
 the whole company. Those of us who had no familiarity 
 with women of the town, were forced to purvey them- 
 selves at no small trouble and expense, in order to 
 appear without disgrace at that distinguished feast of 
 artists. I had reckoned upon being well provided with 
 a young woman of considerable beauty, called Pantasilea, 
 who was very much in love with me ; but I was obliged 
 to give her up to one of my dearest friends, called II 
 Bachiacca, who on his side had been, and still was, 
 over head and ears in. love with her.^ This exchange 
 excited a certain amount of lover's anger, because the 
 lady, seeing I had abandoned her at Bachiacca's first 
 entreaty, imagined that I held in slight esteem the 
 great affection which she bore me. In course of time 
 a very serious incident grew out of this misunder- 
 standing, through her desire to take revenge for the 
 
 ^ There were two artists at this epoch surnamed Bachiacca, the twin 
 sons of Ubertino Verdi, called respectively Francesco and Antonio. 
 Francesco was an excellent painter of miniature oil-pictures ; Antonio 
 the first embroiderer of his age. The one alluded to here is probably 
 Francesco. 
 
72 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 affront I had put upon lier; wliereof I sliall speak 
 hereafter in the proper place. 
 
 Well, then, the hour was drawing nigh when we 
 had to present ourselves before that company of men 
 of genius, each with his own crow ; and I was still 
 unprovided ; and yet I thought it would be stupid to 
 fail of such a madcap bagatelle ; ^ but what particularly 
 weighed upon my mind was that I did not choose to 
 lend the light of my countenance in that illustrious 
 sphere to some miserable plume-plucked scare-crow. 
 All these considerations made me devise a pleasant 
 trick, for the increase of merriment and the diffusion 
 of mirth in our society. 
 
 Having taken this resolve, I sent for a stripling of 
 sixteen years, who lived in the next house to mine ; 
 he was the son of a Spanish coppersmith. This young 
 man gave his time to Latin studies, and was very 
 diligent in their pursuit. He bore the name of Diego, 
 had a handsome figure, and a complexion of marvellous 
 brilliancy ; the outlines of his head and face were far 
 more beautiful than those of the antique Antinous : I 
 had often copied them, gaining thereby much honour 
 from the works in which I used them. The youth had 
 no acquaintances, and was therefore quite unknown ; 
 dressed very ill and negligently ; all his affections 
 being set upon those wonderful studies of his. After 
 bringing him to my house, I begged him to let me 
 array him in the woman's clothes which I had caused 
 to be laid out. He readily complied, and put them on 
 at once, while I added new beauties to the beauty of 
 his face by the elaborate and studied way in which I 
 dressed his hair. In his ears I placed two little rings, 
 
 ^ Mancare di una si pazza cosa. The pazza cosa may be the supper- 
 party or the cornacchia. 
 
 iSnAltfl 
 
 ■pr 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 11 
 
 set with two large and fair pearls : the rings were 
 broken ; they only clipped his ears, which looked as 
 though they had been pierced. Afterwards I wreathed 
 his throat with chains of gold and rich jewels, and 
 ornamented his fair hands with rings. Then I took 
 him in a pleasant manner by one ear, and drew him be- 
 fore a great looking-glass. The lad, when he beheld him- 
 self, cried out with a burst of enthusiasm : " Heavens ! 
 is that Diego ? " I said : " That is Diego, from whom 
 until this day I never asked for any kind of favour ; 
 but now I only beseech Diego to do me pleasure in 
 one harmless thing ; and it is this — I want him to 
 come in those very clothes to supper with the company 
 of artists whereof he has often heard me speak." The 
 young man, who was honest, virtuous, and wise, checked 
 his enthusiasm, bent his eyes to the ground, and stood 
 for a short while in silence. Then with a sudden move 
 he lifted up his face and said : " With Benvenuto I 
 will go ; now let us start." 
 
 I wrapped his head in a large kind of napkin, which 
 is called in Rome a summer-cloth; and when we 
 reached the place of meeting, the company had already 
 assembled, and everybody came forward to greet me. 
 Michel Agnolo had placed himself between Giulio and 
 Giovan Francesco. I lifted the veil from the head of 
 my beauty ; and then Michel Agnolo, who, as I have 
 already said, was the most humorous and amusing 
 fellow in the world, laid his two hands, the one on 
 Giulio's and the other on Gian Francesco's shoulders, 
 and pulling them with all his force, made them bow 
 down, while he, on his knees upon the floor, cried out 
 for mercy, and called to all the folk in words like these : 
 " Behold ye of what sort are the angels of paradise ! for 
 though tbey are called angels, here shall ye see that 
 
74' 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 they are not all of the male gender, 
 loud voice he added : 
 
 Then with a 
 
 " All gel beauteous, angel best, 
 Save me thou, make thou me blest." 
 
 Upon this my charming creature laughed, and lifted 
 the right hand and gave him a papal benediction, with 
 many pleasant words to boot. So Michel Agnolo stood 
 up, and said it was the custom to kiss the feet of the 
 Pope and the cheeks of angels ; and having done 
 the latter to Diego, the boy blushed deeply, which 
 immensely enhanced his beauty. 
 
 When this reception was over, we found the whole 
 room full of sonnets, which every man of us had made 
 and sent to Michel Agnolo. My lad began to read 
 them, and read them all aloud so gracefully, that his 
 infinite charms were heightened beyond the powers of 
 language to describe. Then followed conversation and 
 witty sayings, on which I will not enlarge, for that is 
 not my business ; only one clever word must be men- 
 tioned, for it was spoken by that admirable painter 
 Giulio, who, looking round with meaning ^ in his eyes 
 on the bystanders, and fixing them particularly upon 
 the women, turned to Michel Agnolo and said : " My 
 dear Michel Agnolo, your nickname of crow very well 
 suits those ladies to-day, though I vow they are some- 
 what less fair than crows by the side of one of the most 
 lovely peacocks which fancy could have painted." 
 
 When the banquet was served and ready, and we 
 were going to sit down to table, Giulio asked leave to 
 be allowed to place us. This being granted, he took 
 
 ^ Virtuosamente. Cellini uses the word virtuoso in many senses, but 
 always more with reference to intellectual than moral qualities. It 
 denotes genius, artistic ability, masculine force, &c. 
 
BOOK FIEST. 75 
 
 tlie women by the hand, and arranged them all upon 
 the inner side, with my fair in the centre ; then he 
 placed all the men on the outside and me in the middle, 
 saying there was no honour too great for my deserts. 
 As a background to the women, there was spread an 
 espalier of natural jasmines in fall beauty,^ which set 
 off their charms, and especially Diego's, to such great 
 advantage, that words would fail to describe the effect. 
 Then we all of us fell to enjoying the abundance of our 
 host's well-furnished table. The supper was followed 
 by a short concert of delightful music, voices joining 
 in harmony with instruments ; and forasmuch as they 
 were singing and playing from the book, my beauty 
 begged to be allowed to sing his part. He performed 
 the music better than almost all the rest, which so 
 astonished the company that Giulio and Michel Agnolo 
 dropped their earlier tone of banter, exchanging it for 
 well-weighed terms of sober heart-felt admiration. 
 
 After the music was over, a certain Aurelio Ascolano, 
 remarkable for his gift as an improvisatory poet, began 
 to extol the women in choice phrases of exquisite 
 compliment. While he was chanting, the two girls 
 who had my beauty between them never left off chat- 
 tering. One of them related how she had gone wrong ; 
 the other asked mine how it had happened with her, 
 and who were her friends, and how long she had been 
 settled in Eome, and many other questions of the kind. 
 It is true that, if I chose to describe such laughable 
 episodes, I could relate several odd things which then 
 
 ^ Un tessuto di gclsumini naturali e hellissimi. Tessuto is properly 
 something woven, a fabric ; and I am not sure whether Cellini does not 
 mean that the ladies had behind their backs a tapestry representing 
 jasmines in a natural manner. 
 
 ^ Probably Eurialo d'Ascoli, a friend of Caro, Molza, Aretino. 
 
76 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 •I 
 
 I 
 
 occurred through Pantasilea's jealousy on my account ; 
 but since they form no part of my design, I pass them 
 briefly over. At last the conversation of those loose 
 women vexed my beauty, whom we had christened 
 Pomona for the nonce ; and Pomona, wanting to escape 
 from their silly talk, turned restlessly upon her chair, 
 first to one side and then to the other. The female 
 brought by Giulio asked whether she felt indisposed. 
 Pomona answered, yes, she thought she was a month 
 or so with child ; this gave them the opportunity of 
 feeling her body and discovering the real sex of the 
 supposed woman. Thereupon they quickly withdrew 
 their hands and rose from table, uttering such gibing 
 words as are commonly addressed to young men of 
 eminent beauty. The whole room rang with laughter 
 and astonishment, in the midst of which Michel Agnolo, 
 assuming a fierce aspect, called out for leave to inflict 
 on me the penance he thought fit. When this was 
 granted, he lifted me aloft amid the clamour of the 
 company, crying : " Long live the gentleman ! long 
 live the gentleman ! " and added that this was the 
 punishment I deserved for having played so fine a 
 trick. Thus ended that most agreeable supper-party, 
 and each of us returned to his own dwelling at the 
 close of day. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 It would take too long to describe in detail all the 
 many and divers pieces of work which I executed for a 
 great variety of men. At present I need only say that 
 I devoted myself with sustained diligence and industry 
 to acquiring mastery in the several branches of art 
 which I enumerated a short while back. And so I 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 17 
 
 went on labouring incessantly at all of tliem ; but since 
 no opportunity has presented itself as yet for describing 
 my most notable performances, I shall wait to report 
 them in their proper place before very long. The 
 Sienese sculptor, Michel Agnolo, of whom I have re- 
 cently been speaking, was at that time making the 
 monument of the late Pope Adrian. Giulio Romano 
 went to paint for the Marquis of Mantua. The other 
 members of the club betook themselves in dijBferent 
 directions, each to his own business ; so that our com- 
 pany of artists was well-nigh altogether broken up. 
 
 About this time there fell into my hands some little 
 Turkish poniards ; the handle as well as the blade of 
 these daggers was made of iron, and so too was the 
 sheath. They were engraved by means of iron imple- 
 ments with foliage in the most exquisite Turkish style, 
 very neatly filled in with gold. The sight of them 
 stirred in me a great desire to try my own skill in that 
 branch, so different from the others which I practised ; 
 and finding that I succeeded to my satisfaction, I 
 executed several pieces. Mine were far more beautiful 
 and more durable than the Turkish, and this for divers 
 reasons. One was that I cut my grooves much deeper 
 and with wider trenches in the steel ; for this is not 
 usual in Turkish work. Another was that the Turkish 
 arabesques are only composed of arum leaves with a few 
 small sunflowers ; ^ and though these have a certain 
 grace, they do not yield so lasting a pleasure as the 
 patterns which we use. It is true that in Italy we have 
 several different ways of designing foliage ; the Lom- 
 bards, for example, construct very beautiful patterns by 
 copying the leaves of briony and ivy in exquisite curves, 
 which are extremely agreeable to the eye ; the Tuscans 
 
 ^ Gichcro, arum maculatum, and clizia, the sunflower. 
 
78 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 and the Komans make a better choice, because they 
 imitate the leaves of the acanthus, commonly called 
 bear's-foot, with its stalks and flowers, curling in divers 
 wavy lines ; and into these arabesques one may excel- 
 lently well insert the figures of little birds and different 
 animals, by which the good taste of the artist is displayed. 
 Some hints for creatures of this sort can be observed in 
 nature among the wild flowers, as, for instance, in snap- 
 dragons and some few other plants, which must be 
 combined and developed with the help of fanciful ima- 
 ginings by clever draughtsmen. Such arabesques are 
 called grotesques by the ignorant. They have obtained 
 this name of grotesques among the moderns through 
 being found in certain subterranean caverns in Kome 
 by students of antiquity ; which caverns were formerly 
 chambers, hot-baths, cabinets for study, halls, and 
 apartments of like nature. The curious discovering 
 them in such places (since the level of the ground has 
 gradually been raised while they have remained below, 
 and since in Eome these vaulted rooms are commonly 
 called grottoes), it has followed that the word grotesque 
 is applied to the patterns I have mentioned. But this 
 is not the right term for them, inasmuch as the ancients, 
 who delighted in composing monsters out of goats, 
 cows, and horses, called these chimerical hybrids by 
 the name of monsters; and the modern artificers of 
 whom I spoke, fashioned from the foliage which they 
 copied monsters of like nature; for these the proper 
 name is therefore monsters, and not grotesques. Well, 
 then, I designed patterns of this kind, and filled them 
 in with gold, as I have mentioned ; and they were far 
 more pleasing to the eye than the Turkish. 
 
 It chanced at that time that I lighted upon some jars 
 or little antique urns filled with ashes, and among the 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 79 
 
 ashes were some iron rings inlaid with, gold (for the 
 ancients also used that art), and in each of the rings 
 was set a tiny cameo of shell. On applying to men of 
 learning, they told me that these rings wei'e worn as 
 amulets by folk desirous of abiding with mind unshaken 
 in any extraordinary circumstance, whether of good or 
 evil fortune. Hereupon, at the request of certain 
 noblemen who were my friends, I undertook to fabricate 
 some trifling rings of this kind ; but I made them of 
 refined steel ; and after they had been well engraved 
 and inlaid with gold, they produced a very beautiful 
 effect ; and sometimes a single ring brought me more 
 than forty crowns, merely in payment for my labour. 
 
 It was the custom at that epoch to wear little golden 
 medals, upon which every nobleman or man of quality 
 had some device or fancy of his own engraved ; and 
 these were worn in the cap. Of such pieces I made 
 very many, and found them extremely difficult to work. 
 I have already mentioned the admirable craftsman Cara- 
 dosso, who used to make such ornaments ; and as there 
 were more than one figure on each piece, he asked at 
 least a hundred gold crowns for his fee. This being so 
 — not, however, because his prices were so high, but 
 because he worked so slowly — I began to be employed 
 by certain noblemen, for whom, among other things, I 
 made a medal in competition with that great artist, 
 and it had four figures, upon which I had expended an 
 infinity of labour. These men of quality, when they 
 compared my piece with that of the famous Caradosso, 
 declared that mine was by far the better executed and 
 more beautiful, and bade me ask what I liked as the 
 reward of my trouble ; for since I had given them such 
 perfect satisfaction, they wished to do the like by me. 
 I replied that my greatest reward and what I most 
 
8o 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 desired was to have rivalled the masterpieces of so 
 eminent an artist; and that if their lordships thought 
 I had, I acknowledged myself to be most amply rewarded. 
 With this I took my leave, and they immediately sent 
 me such a very liberal present, that I was well con- 
 tent ; indeed there grew in me so great a spirit to 
 do well, that to this event I attribute what will after- 
 wards be related of my progress. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 I shall be obliged to digress a little from the history 
 of my art, unless I were to omit some annoying incidents 
 which have happened in the course of my troubled 
 career. One of these, which I am about to describe, 
 brought me into the greatest risk of my life. I have 
 already told the story of the artists' club, and of the 
 farcical adventures which happened owing to the woman 
 whom I mentioned, Pantasilea, the one who felt for me 
 that false and fulsome love. She was furiously enraged 
 because of the pleasant trick by which I brought Diego 
 to our banquet, and she swore to be revenged on me. 
 How she did so is mixed up with the history of a young 
 man called Luigi Pulci, who had recently come to 
 Eome. He was the son of one of the Pulcis, who had 
 been beheaded for incest with his daughter ; and the 
 youth possessed extraordinary gifts for poetry together 
 with sound Latin scholarship ; he wrote well, was grace- 
 ful in manners, and of surpassing personal beauty ; he 
 had just left the service of some bishop, whose name I 
 do not remember, and was thoroughly tainted with a 
 very foul disease. While he was yet a lad and living 
 in Florence, they used in certain places of the city to 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 8 1 
 
 meet together during the nights of summer on the 
 public streets ; and he, ranking among the best of the 
 improvisatori, sang there. His recitations were so 
 admirable, that the divine Michel Agnolo Buonarroti, 
 that prince of sculptors and of painters, went, wherever 
 he heard that he would be, with the greatest eagerness 
 and delight to listen to him. There was a man called 
 Piloto, a goldsmith, very able in his art, who, together 
 with myself, joined Buonarroti upon these occasions.^ 
 Thus acquaintance sprang up between me and Luigi 
 Pulci ; and so, after the lapse of many years, he came, 
 in the miserable plight which I have mentioned, to 
 make himself known to me again in Rome, beseeching 
 me for God's sake to help him. Moved to compassion 
 by his great talents, by the love of my fatherland, and 
 by my own natural tenderness of heart, I took him into 
 my house, and had him medically treated in such wise 
 that, being but a youth, he soon regained his health. 
 While he was still pursuing his cure, he never omitted 
 his studies, and I provided him with books according 
 to the means at my disposal. The result was that 
 Luigi, recognising the great benefits he had received 
 from me, oftentimes with words and tears returned me 
 thanks, protesting that if God should ever put good 
 fortune in his way, he would recompense me for my 
 kindness. To this I replied that I had not done for 
 him as much as I desired, but only what I could, and 
 that is was the duty of human beings to be mutually 
 serviceable. Only I suggested that he should repay 
 
 ^ Piloto, of whom we shall hear more hereafter, was a prominent 
 figure in the Florentine society of artists, and a celebrated practical joker. 
 Vasari says that a young man of whom he had spoken ill murdered 
 him. Lasca's Novelle, Le Cene, should be studied by those who seek 
 an insight into this curious Bohemia of the sixteenth century. 
 VOL. I. F 
 
82 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 the service I had rendered him by doing likewise to 
 some one who might have the same need of him as 
 he had had of me. 
 
 The young man in question began to frequent the 
 Court of Rome, where he soon found a situation, and 
 enrolled himself in the suite of a bishop, a man of 
 eighty years, who bore the title of Gurgensis.^ This 
 bishop had a nephew called Messer Giovanni : he was 
 a nobleman of Venice ; and the said Messer Giovanni 
 made show of marvellous attachment to Luigi Pulci's 
 talents; and under the pretence of these talents, he 
 brought him as familiar to himself as his own flesh and 
 blood. Luigi having talked of me, and of his great 
 obligations to me, with Messer Giovanni, the latter 
 expressed a wish to make my acquaintance. Thus then 
 it came to pass, that when I had upon a certain even- 
 ing invited that woman Pantasilea to supper, and had 
 assembled a company of men of parts who were my 
 friends, just at the moment of our sitting down to table, 
 Messer Giovanni and Luigi Pulci arrived, and after 
 some complimentary speeches, they both remained to 
 sup with us. The shameless strumpet, casting her 
 eyes upon the young man's beauty, began at once to 
 lay her nets for him ; perceiving which, when the 
 supper had come to an agreeable end, I took Luigi 
 aside, and conjured him, by the benefits he said he 
 owed me, to have nothing whatever to do with her. 
 To this he answered: "Good heavens, Benvenuto! do 
 you then take me for a madman ? " I rejoined : " Not 
 for a madman, but for a young fellow ; " and I swore to 
 him by God: "I do not give that woman the least 
 
 ^ Girolamo Balbo, of the noble Venetian family, Bishop of Gurck, iu 
 Carinthla. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 83 
 
 thought ; but for jour sake I should be sorry if through 
 her you came to break your neck." Upon these words 
 he vowed and prayed to God, that, if ever he but spoke 
 with her, he might upon the moment break his neck. 
 I think the poor lad swore this oath to God with all his 
 heart, for he did break his neck, as I shall presently 
 relate. Messer Giovanni showed signs too evident of 
 loving him in a dishonourable way; for we began to 
 notice that Luigi had new suits of silk and velvet every 
 morning, and it was known that he abandoned himself 
 altogether to bad courses. He neglected his fine 
 talents, and pretended not to see or recognise me, 
 because I had once rebuked him, and told him he 
 was giving his soul to foul vices, which would make 
 him break his neck, as he had vowed. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Now Messer Giovanni bought his favourite a very 
 fine black horse, for which he paid 150 crowns. The 
 beast was admirably trained to hand, so that Luigi 
 could go daily to caracole around the lodgings of that 
 prostitute Pantasilea. Though I took notice of this, I 
 paid it no attention, only remarking that all things 
 acted as their nature prompted ; and meanwhile I gave 
 my whole mind to my studies. It came to pass one 
 Sunday evening that we were invited to sup together 
 with the Sienese sculptor, Michel Agnolo, and the time 
 of the year was summer. Bachiacca, of whom I have 
 already spoken, was present at the party ; and he had 
 brought with him his old flame, Pantasilea. When we 
 were at table, she sat between me and Bachiacca ; but 
 in the very middle of the banquet she rose, and excused 
 
84 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 herself upon the pretext of a natural need, saying she 
 would speedily return. We, meanwhile, continued 
 talking very agreeably and supping ; but she remained 
 an unaccountably long time absent. It chanced that, 
 keeping my ears open, 1 thought I heard a sort of sub- 
 dued tittering in the street below. I had a knife in 
 hand, which I was using for my service at the table. 
 The window was so close to where I sat, that, by merely 
 rising, I could see Luigi in the street, together with 
 Pantasilea ; and I heard Luigi saying : " Oh, if that 
 devil Benvenuto only saw us, shouldn't we just catch 
 it ! " She answered : " Have no fear ; only listen to 
 the noise they're making ; we are the last thing they're 
 thinking of." At these words, having made them both 
 well out, I leaped from the window, and took Luigi by 
 the cape ; and certainly I should then have killed him 
 with the knife I held, biit that he was riding a white 
 horse, to which he clapped spurs, leaving his cape in 
 my grasp, in order to preserve his life. Pantasilea took 
 to her heels in the direction of a neighbouring church. 
 The company at supper rose immediately, and came 
 down, entreating me in a body to refrain from putting 
 myself and them to inconvenience for a strumpet. I 
 told them that I should not have let myself be moved 
 on her account, but that I was bent on punishing the 
 infamous young man, who showed how little he regarded 
 me. Accordingly I would not yield to the remon- 
 strances of those ingenious and worthy men, but took 
 my sword, and went alone toward Prati : — the house 
 where we were supping, I should say, stood close to the 
 Castello gate, which led to Prati. ^ Walking thus upon 
 
 1 The Porta Castello was the gate called after the Castle of S. 
 Angelo. Prati, so far as I can make out, was an open space between 
 the Borgo and the Bridge of S. Angelo. In order to get inside Rome 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 85 
 
 tlie road to Prati, I had not gone far before tlie sun 
 sank, and I re-entered Rome itself at a slow pace. 
 Night had fallen ; darkness had come on ; but the gates 
 of Rome were not yet shut. 
 
 Toward two hours after sunset, I walked along Pan- 
 tasilea's lodging, with the intention, if Luigi Pulci 
 were there, of doing something to the discontent of 
 both. When I heard and saw that no one but a poor 
 servant-girl called Canida was in the house, I went to 
 put away my cloak and the scabbard of my sword, and 
 then returned to the house, which stood behind the 
 Banchi on the river Tiber. Just opposite stretched a 
 garden belonging to an innkeeper called Eomolo. It 
 was enclosed by a thick hedge of thorns, in which 
 I hid myself, standing upright, and waiting till the 
 woman came back with Luigi. After keeping watch 
 awhile there, my friend Bachiacca crept up to me ; 
 whether led by his own suspicions or by the advice of 
 others, I cannot say. In a low voice he called out to 
 me: "Gossip" (for so we used to name ourselves for 
 fun) ; and then he prayed me for God's love, using the 
 words which follow, with tears in the tone of his voice : 
 "Dear gossip, I entreat you not to injure that poor 
 girl ; she at least has erred in no wise in this matter — 
 no, not at all." When I heard what he was saying, 
 I replied : " If you don't take yourself off now, at this 
 first word I utter, I will bring my sword here down 
 upon your head." Overwhelmed with fright, my poor 
 gossip was suddenly taken ill with the colic, and with- 
 drew, to ease himself apart; indeed, he could not but 
 obey the call. There was a glorious heaven of stars, 
 
 itself, Cellini had to pass a second gate. His own lodging and Pan- 
 tasilea's house were in the quarter of the Bianchi, where are now the 
 Via Giulia and Via de' Banchi Vecchi. 
 
86 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 whicli shed good light to see by. All of a sudden I 
 was aware of the noise of many horses; they were 
 coming toward me from the one side and the other. 
 It turned out to be Luigi and Pantasilea, attended by 
 a certain Messer Benvegnato of Perugia, who was cham- 
 berlain to Pope Clement, and followed by four doughty 
 captains of Perugia, with some other valiant soldiers 
 in the flower of youth : altogether reckoned, there were 
 more than twelve swords. When I understood the 
 matter, and saw not how to fly, I did my best to crouch 
 into the hedge. But the thorns pricked and hurt me, 
 goading me to madness like a bull ; and I had half 
 resolved to take a leap and hazard my escape. Just 
 then Luigi, with his arm round Pantasilea's neck, was 
 heard crying : " I must kiss you once again, if only 
 to insult that traitor Benvenuto." At that moment, 
 annoyed as I was by the prickles, and irritated by the 
 young man's words, I sprang forth, lifted my sword on 
 high, and shouted at the top of my voice : " You are 
 all dead folk ! " My blow descended on the shoulder 
 of Luigi ; but the satyrs who doted on him, had steeled 
 his person round with coats of mail and such-like vil- 
 lainous defences; still the stroke fell with crushing 
 force. Swerving aside, the sword hit Pantasilea full 
 in nose and mouth. Both she and Luigi grovelled on 
 the ground, while Bachiacca, with his breeches down 
 to heels, screamed out and ran away. Then I turned 
 upon the others boldly with my sword ; and those valiant 
 fellows, hearing a sudden commotion in the tavern, 
 thought there was an army coming of a hundred men ; 
 and though they drew their swords with spirit, yet two 
 horses which had taken fright in the tumult cast them 
 into such disorder that a couple of the best riders were 
 thrown, and the remainder took to flight. I, seeing 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 87 
 
 that the affair was turning out well for me, ran as 
 quickly as I could, and came off with honour from the 
 engagement, not wishing to tempt fortune more than 
 was my duty. During this hurly-burly, some of the 
 soldiers and captains wounded themselves with their 
 own arms ; and Messer Benvegnato, the Pope's cham- 
 berlain, was kicked and trampled by his mule. One of 
 the servants also, who had drawn his sword, fell down 
 together with his master, and wounded him badly in 
 the hand. Maddened by the pain, he swore louder 
 than all the rest in his Perugian jargon, crying out : 
 " By the body of God, I will take care that Benvegnato 
 teaches Benvenuto how to live." He afterwards com- 
 missioned one of the captains who were with him (braver 
 perhaps than the others, but with less aplomb, as being 
 but a youth) to seek me out. The fellow came to visit 
 me in the place of my retirement ; that was the palace 
 of a great Neapolitan nobleman, who had become 
 acquainted with me in my art, and had besides taken 
 a fancy to me because of my physical and mental apti- 
 tude for fighting, to which my lord himself was per- 
 sonally well inclined. So, then, finding myself made 
 much of, and being precisely in my element, I gave 
 such answer to the captain as I think must have made 
 him earnestly repent of having come to look me up. 
 After a few days, when the wounds of Luigi, and the 
 strumpet, and the rest were healing, this great Nea- 
 politan nobleman received overtures from Messer Ben- 
 vegnato ; for the prelate's anger had cooled, and he 
 proposed to ratify a peace between me and Luigi and 
 the soldiers, who had personally no quarrel with me, 
 and only wished to make my acquaintance. Accord- 
 ingly my friend the nobleman replied that he would 
 bring me where they chose to appoint, and that he 
 
LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 was very willing to effect a reconciliation. He stipu- 
 lated that no words sliould be bandied about on either 
 side, seeing that would be little to their credit ; it was 
 enough to go through the form of drinking together 
 and exchanging kisses ; he for his part undertook to 
 do the talking, and promised to settle the matter to 
 their honour. This arrangement was carried out. On 
 Thursday evening my protector took me to the house 
 of Messer Benvegnato, where all the soldiers who had 
 been present at that discomfiture were assembled, and 
 already seated at table. My nobleman was attended 
 by thirty brave fellows, all well armed ; a circumstance 
 which Messer Benvegnato had not anticipated. When 
 we came into the hall, he walking first, I following, he 
 spake to this eifect : " God save you, gentlemen ; we 
 have come to see you, I and Benvenuto, whom I love 
 like my own brother; and we are ready to do whatever 
 you propose." Messer Benvegnato, seeing the hall fill 
 with such a crowd of men, called out : "It is only 
 peace, and nothing else, we ask of you." Accordingly 
 he promised that the governor of Eome and his catch- 
 poles should give me no trouble. Then we made peace, 
 and I returned to my shop, where I could not stay an 
 hour without that Neapolitan nobleman either coming 
 to see me or sending for me. 
 
 Meanwhile Luigi Pulci, having recovered from his 
 wound, rode every day upon the black horse which was 
 so well trained to heel and bridle. One day, among 
 others, after it had rained a little, and he was making 
 his horse curvet just before Pantasilea's door, he slipped 
 and fell, with the horse upon him. His right leg was 
 broken short off in the thigh ; and after a few days he 
 died there in Pantasilea's lodgings, discharging thus 
 the vow he registered so heartily to Heaven. Even so 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 may it be seen that God keeps account of the good and 
 the bad, and gives to each one what he merits. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 The whole world was now in warfare.^ Pope Clement 
 had sent to get some troops from Giovanni de' Medici, 
 and when they came, they made such disturbances in 
 Rome, that it was ill living in open shops.^ On this 
 account I retired to a good snug house behind the 
 Banchi, where I worked for all the friends I had ac- 
 quired. Since I produced few things of much import- 
 ance at that period, I need not waste time in talking 
 about them. I took much pleasure in music and 
 amusements of the kind. On the death of Giovanni 
 de' Medici in Lombardy, the Pope, at the advice of 
 Messer Jacopo Salviati, dismissed the five bands he had 
 engaged ; and when the Constable of Bourbon knew 
 there were no troops in Rome, he pushed his army with 
 the utmost energy up to the city. The whole of Rome 
 upon this flew to arms. I happened to be intimate 
 with Alessandro, the son of Piero del Bene, who, at the 
 time when the Colonnesi entered Rome, had requested 
 me to guard his palace.^ On this more serious occasion, 
 
 ^ War had broken out in 1521 between Charles V. and Francis I., 
 which disturbed all Europe and involved the States of Italy in serious 
 complications. At the moment when this chapter opens, the Imperialist 
 army under the Constable of Bourbon was marching upon Rome in 1527. 
 
 ^ These troops entered Rome_in October 1526. They were disbanded 
 in March 1527. 
 
 ^ Cellini here refers to the attack made upon Rome by the great 
 Ghibelline house of Colonna, led by their chief captain, Pompeo, in 
 September 1526. They took possession of the city and drove Clement 
 into the Castle of S. Angelo, where they forced him to agree to terms 
 
90 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 therefore, he prayed me to enlist fifty comrades for the 
 protection of the said house, appointing me their captain, 
 as I had been when the Colonnesi came. So I collected 
 fifty young men of the highest courage, and we took up 
 our quarters in his palace, with good pay and excellent 
 appointments. 
 
 Bourbon's army had now arrived before the walls of 
 Eome, and Alessandro begged me to go with him to 
 reconnoitre. So we went with one of the stoutest 
 fellows in our company ; and on the way a youth called 
 Cecchino della Casa joined himself to us. On reaching 
 the walls by the Campo Santo, we could see that 
 famous army, which was making every effort to enter 
 the town. Upon the ramparts where we took our 
 station, several young men were lying killed by the 
 besiegers; the battle raged there desperately, and 
 there was the densest fog imaginable. I turned to 
 Alessandro and said : " Let us go home as soon as we 
 can, for there is nothing to be done here; you see the 
 enemies are mounting, and our men are in flight." 
 Alessandro, in a panic, cried : " Would God that we 
 had n-ever come here ! " and turned in maddest haste 
 to fly. I took him up somewhat sharply with these 
 words : " Since you have brought me here, I must 
 perform some action worthy of a man ; " and directing 
 my arquebuse where I saw the thickest and most 
 serried troop of fighting men, I aimed exactly at one 
 whom I remarked to be higher than the rest : the fog 
 prevented me from being certain whether he was on 
 horseback or on foot. Then I turned to Alessandro 
 
 favouring the Imperial cause. It was customary for Roman gentlemen 
 to hire bravi for the defence of their palaces when any extraordinary 
 disturbance was expected, as, for example, upon the vacation of the 
 Papal Chair. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 91 
 
 and Cecchino, and bade them discharge their arque- 
 buses, showing them how to avoid being hit by the 
 besiegers. When we had fired two rounds apiece, I 
 crept cautiously up to the wall, and observing among 
 the enemy a most extraordinary confusion, I discovered 
 afterwards that one of our shots had killed the Constable 
 of Bourbon ; and from what I subsequently learned, he 
 was the man whom I had first noticed above the heads 
 of the rest.^ 
 
 Quitting our position on the ramparts, we crossed 
 the Campo Santo, and entered the city by St, Peter's ; 
 then coming out exactly at the church of Santo Agnolo, 
 we got with the greatest difficulty to the great gate of 
 the castle ; for the generals Kenzo di Ceri and Orazio 
 Baglioni were wounding and slaughtering everybody 
 who abandoned the defence of the walls. ^ By the time 
 we had reached the great gate, part of the foemen had 
 already entered Rome, and we had them in our rear. 
 The castellan had ordered the portcullis to be lowered, 
 in order to do which they cleared a little space, and 
 this enabled us four to get inside. On the instant 
 that I entered, the captain Pallone de' Medici claimed 
 me as being of the Papal household, and forced me to 
 
 ^ All historians of the sack of Rome agree in saying that Bourbon 
 was shot dead while placing ladders against the outworks near the shop 
 Cellini mentions. But the honour of firing the arquebuse which 
 brought him down cannot be assigned to any one in particular. Very 
 different stories were current on the subject. See Gregorovius, Stadt 
 Rom, vol. viii. p. 522. 
 
 - For Reuzo di Ceri see above, p. 58. Orazio Baglioni, of the semi- 
 princely Perugian family, was a distinguished Condottiere. He sub- 
 sequently obtained the captaincy of the Bande Nere, and died fighting 
 near Naples in 1528. Orazo murdered several of his cousins in order 
 to acquire the lordship of Perugia. His brother Malatesta undertook 
 to defend Florence in the siege of 1530, and sold the city by treason to 
 Clement. 
 
92 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 abandon Alessandro, whicli I had to do, much against 
 my will. I ascended to the keep, and at the same 
 instant Pope Clement came in through the corridors 
 into the castle ; he had refused to leave the palace of 
 St. Peter earlier, being unable to believe that his 
 enemies would effect their entrance into E,ome.^ Hav- 
 ing got into the castle in this way, I attached myself 
 to certain pieces of artillery, which were under the 
 command of a bombardier called Giuliano Fiorentino. 
 Leaning there against the battlements, the unhappy 
 man could see his poor house being sacked, and his 
 wife and children outraged ; fearing to strike his own 
 folk, he dared not discharge the cannon, and flinging 
 the burning fuse upon the ground, he wept as though 
 his heart would break, and tore his cheeks with both 
 his hands.^ Some of the other bombardiers were behav- 
 ing in like manner; seeing which, I took one of the 
 matches, and got the assistance of a few men who were 
 not overcome by their emotions. I aimed some swivels 
 and falconets at points where I saw it would be useful, 
 and killed with them a good number of the enemy. 
 Had it not been for this, the troops who poured into 
 Rome that morning, and were marching straight upon 
 the castle, might possibly have entered it with ease, 
 because the artillery was doing them no damage. I 
 
 1 Giovio, in his Life of the Cardinal Prospero Colonna, relates how 
 he accompanied Clement in his flight from the Vatican to the castle. 
 While passing some open portions of the gallery, he threw his violet 
 mantle and cap of a Monsignore over the white stole of the Pontiff, for 
 fear he might be shot at by the soldiers in the streets below. 
 
 ^ The short autobiography of Raffaello da Montelupo, a man in many 
 respects resembling Cellini, confirms this part of our author's narrative. 
 It is one of the most interesting pieces of evidence regarding what 
 went on inside the castle during the sack of Rome. Montelupo was 
 also a gunner, and commanded two pieces. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 93 
 
 went on firing under the eyes of several cardinals and 
 lords, who kept blessing me and giving me the heartiest 
 encouragement. In my enthusiasm I strove to achieve 
 the impossible ; let it suffice that it was I who saved 
 the castle that morning, and brought the other bom- 
 bardiers back to their duty.^ I worked hard the whole 
 of that day ; and when the evening came, while the 
 army was marching into Eome through the Trastevere, 
 Pope Clement appointed a great Eoman nobleman 
 named Antonio Santacroce to be captain of all the 
 gunners. The first thing this man did was to come to 
 me, and having greeted me with the utmost kindness, 
 he stationed me with five fine pieces of artillery on the 
 highest point of the castle, to which the name of the 
 Angel specially belongs. This circular eminence goes 
 round the castle, and surveys both Prati and the town 
 of Rome. The captain put under my orders enough 
 men to help in managing my guns, and having seen 
 me paid in advance^ he gave me rations of bread and 
 a little wine, and begged me to go forward as I had 
 begun. I was perhaps more inclined by nature to the 
 profession of arms than to the one I had adopted, and 
 I took such pleasure in its duties that I discharged 
 them better than those of my own art. Night came,, 
 the enemy had entered Rome, and we who were in the 
 castle (especially myself, who have always taken plea- 
 sure in extraordinary sights) stayed gazing on the 
 indescribable scene of tumult and conflagration in the 
 streets below. People who were anywhere else but 
 where we were, could not have formed the least imagi- 
 nation of what it was, I will not, however, set myself 
 
 1 This is an instance of Cellini's exaggeration. He did more than 
 yeoman's service, no doubt. But we cannot believe that, without him, 
 the castle would have been taken. 
 
94 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 to describe that tragedy, but will content myself with 
 continuing the history of my own life and the circum- 
 stances which properly belong to it. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 During the course of my artillery practice, which I 
 never intermitted through the whole month passed by 
 us beleagured in the castle, I met with a great many 
 very striking accidents, all of them worthy to be 
 related. But since I do not care to be too prolix, or to 
 exhibit myself outside the sphere of my profession, I 
 will omit the larger part of them, only touching upon 
 those I cannot well neglect, which shall be the fewest 
 in number and the most remarkable. The first which 
 comes to hand is this : Messer Antonio Santacroce had 
 made me come down from the Angel, in order to fire 
 on some houses in the neighbourhood, where certain of 
 our besiegers had been seen to enter. While I was 
 firing, a cannon-shot reached me, which hit the angle 
 of a battlement, and carried off enough of it to be the 
 cause why I sustained no injury. The whole mass 
 struck me in the chest and took my breath away. I 
 lay stretched upon the ground like a dead man, and 
 could hear what the bystanders were saying. Among 
 them all, Messer Antonio Santacroce lamented greatly, 
 exclaiming : " Alas, alas ! we have lost the best defender 
 that we bad." Attracted by the uproar, one of my 
 comrades ran up ; he was called Gianfrancesco, and 
 was a bandsman, but was far more naturally given to 
 medicine than to music. On the spot he flew off, 
 crying for a stoop of the very best Greek wine. Then 
 he made a tile red-hot, and cast upon it a good handful 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 95 
 
 of wormwood; after which he sprinkled the Greek 
 wine ; and when the wormwood was well soaked, he 
 laid it on my breast, just where the bruise was visible 
 to all. Such was the virtue of the wormwood that I 
 immediately regained my scattered faculties. I wanted 
 to begin to speak, but could not; for some stupid 
 soldiers had filled my mouth with earth, imagining 
 that by so doing they were giving me the sacrament ; 
 and indeed they were more like to have excommuni- 
 cated me, since I could with difiiculty come to myself 
 again, the earth doing me more mischief than the blow. 
 However, I escaped that danger, and returned to the 
 rage and fury of the guns pursuing my work there with 
 all the ability and eagerness that I could summon. 
 
 Pope Clement, bythis, had sent to demand assistance 
 from the Duke of Urbino, who was with the troops of 
 Venice ; he commissioned the envoy to tell his Excel- 
 lency that the Castle of S. Angelo would send up every 
 evening three beacons from its summit, accompanied 
 by three discharges of the cannon thrice repeated, and 
 that so long as this signal was continued, he might 
 take for granted that the castle had not yielded. I 
 was charged with lighting the beacons and firing the 
 guns for this purpose ; and all this while I pointed my 
 artillery by day upon the places where mischief could 
 be done. The Pope, in consequence, began to regard 
 me with still greater favour, because he saw that I 
 discharged my functions as intelligently as the task 
 demanded. Aid from the Duke of Urbino never came ; 
 on which, as it is not my business, I will make no 
 further comment.^ 
 
 1 Francesco Maria della Rovere, Duke of Urbino, commanded a 
 considerable army as general of the Church, and was now acting for 
 Venice, Why he affected no diversion while the Imperial troops were 
 
 iiiiiiiiiiiii^ 
 
96 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 While I was at work upon that diabolical task of 
 mine, there came from time to time to watch me 
 some of the cardinals who were invested in the castle ; 
 and most frequently the Cardinal of Eavenna and the 
 Cardinal de' Gaddi.^ I often told them not to show 
 themselves, since their nasty red caps gave a fair mark 
 to our enemies. From neighbouring buildings, such 
 as the Torre de' Bini, we ran great peril when they 
 were there ; and at last I had them locked off, and 
 gained thereby their deep ill-will. I frequently re- 
 ceived visits also from the general, Orazio Baglioni, 
 who was very well affected toward me. One day while 
 he was talking with me, he noticed something going 
 forward in a drinking-place outside the Porta di Cas- 
 tello, which bore the name of Baccanello. This tavern 
 had for sign a sun painted between two windows, of 
 a bright red colour. The windows being closed, 
 Signor Orazio concluded that a band of soldiers were 
 carousing at table just between them and behind the 
 sun. So he said to me : " Benvenuto, if you think that 
 you could hit that wall an ell's breadth from the 
 sun with your demi-cannon here, I believe you would 
 
 marching upon E-ome, and why he delayed to relieve the city, was 
 never properly explained. Folk attributed his impotent conduct partly 
 to a natural sluggishness in warfare, and partly to his hatred for the 
 house of Medici. Leo X. had deprived him of his dukedom, and given 
 it to a Medicean prince. It is to this that Cellini probably refers in 
 the cautious phrase which ends the chapter. 
 
 1 Benedetto Accolti of Arezzo, Archbishop of Ravenna in 1524, 
 obtained the hat in 1527, three days before the sack of Rome. He was 
 a distinguished man of letters. Niccolo Gaddi was created Cardinal on 
 the same day as Accolti, We shall hear more of him in Cellini's pages. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 97 
 
 be doing a good stroke of business, for there is a great 
 commotion there, and men of much importance must 
 probably be inside the house." I answered that I felt 
 quite capable of hitting the sun in its centre, but that 
 a- barrel full of stones, which was standing close to the 
 muzzle of the gun, might be knocked down by the 
 shock of the discharge and the blast of the artillery. 
 He rejoined : " Don't waste time, Benvenuto. In the 
 first place, it is not possible, where it is standing, that 
 the cannon's blast should bring it down ; and even if it 
 were to fall, and the Pope himself was underneath, the 
 mischief would not be so great as you imagine. Fire, 
 then, only fire ! " Taking no more thought about it, I 
 struck the sun in the centre, exactly as I said I should. 
 The cask was dislodged, as 1 predicted, and fell pre- 
 cisely between Cardinal Farnese and Messer Jacopo 
 Salviati.^ It might very well have dashed out the 
 brains of both of them, except that just at that very 
 moment Farnese was reproaching Salviati with having 
 caused the sack of Eome, and while they stood apart 
 from one another to exchange opprobrious remarks, my 
 gabion fell without destroying them. When he heard 
 the uproar in the court below, good Signer Orazio 
 dashed off in a hurry ; and I, thrusting my neck for- 
 ward where the cask had fallen, heard some people 
 saying : " It would not be a bad job to kill that 
 gunner ! " Upon this I turned two falconets toward 
 the staircase, with mind resolved to let blaze on the 
 first man who attempted to come up. The household 
 of Cardinal Farnese must have received orders to go 
 and do me some injury ; accordingly I prepared to 
 receive them, with a lighted match in hand. Recog- 
 
 ^ Alessandro Farnese, Dean of the Sacred College, and afterwards 
 Pope Paul III. Of Giacopo Salviati we have already heard, p. 13. 
 VOL. I. a 
 
98 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 nising some who were approacliing, I called out : " You 
 lazy lubbers, if you don't pack off from there, and if but 
 a man's child among you dares to touch the staircase, 
 I have got two cannon loaded, which will blow you 
 into powder. Go and tell the Cardinal that I was act- 
 ing at the order of superior officers, and that what we 
 have done and are doing is in defence of them priests,^ 
 and not to hurt them." They made away ; and then 
 came Signer Orazio Baglioni, running. I bade him 
 stand back, else I'd murder him ; for I knew very well 
 who he was. He drew back a little, not without a 
 certain show of fear, and called out : " Benvenuto, I am 
 your friend ! " To this I answered : " Sir, come up, 
 but come alone, and then come as you like." The 
 general, who was a man of mighty pride, stood still a 
 moment, and then said angrily : " I have a good mind 
 not to come up again, and to do quite the opposite of 
 that which I intended toward you." I replied that just 
 as I was put there to defend my neighbours, I was 
 equally well able to defend myself too. He said that 
 he was coming alone ; and when he arrived at the top 
 of the stairs, his features were more discomposed than 
 I thought reasonable. So I kept my hand upon my 
 sword, and stood eyeing him askance. Upon this he 
 began to laugh, and the colour coming back into his 
 face, he said to me with the most pleasant manner : 
 " Friend Benvenuto, I bear you as great love as I have 
 it in my heart to give ; and in God's good time I will 
 render you proof of this. Would to God that you had 
 killed those two rascals ; for one of them is the cause of 
 all this trouble, and the day perchance will come when 
 the other will be found the cause of something even 
 worse." He then begged me, if I should be asked, not 
 
 ^ Loro freti. Perhaps their priests. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 99 
 
 to say that he was with me when I fired the gun ; and 
 for the rest bade me be of good cheer. The commotion 
 which the affair made was enormous, and lasted a lonsf 
 while. However, I will not enlarge upon it further, 
 only adding that I was within an inch of revenging my 
 father on Messer Jacopo Salviati, who had grievously 
 injured him, according to my father's frequent com- 
 plaints. As it was, unwittingly I gave the fellow a 
 great fright. Of Farnese I shall say nothing here, 
 because it will appear in its proper place how well it 
 would have been if I had killed him. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 I pursued my business of artilleryman, and every 
 day performed some extraordinary feat, whereby the 
 credit and the favour I acquired with the Pope was 
 something indescribable. There never passed a day 
 but what I killed one or another of our enemies in the 
 besieging army. On one occasion the Pope was walk- 
 ing round the circular keep,^ when he observed a 
 Spanish Colonel in the Pratij he recognised the man 
 by certain indications, seeing that this officer had 
 formerly been in his service; and while he fixed his 
 eyes on him, he kept talking about him. I, above by 
 the Angel, knew nothing of all this, but spied a fellow 
 down there, busying himself about the trenches with 
 a javelin in his hand; he was dressed entirely in rose- 
 colour; and so, studying the worst that I could do 
 against him, I selected a gerfalcon which I had at 
 hand ; it is a piece of ordnance larger and longer than a 
 
 ^ The Mastio or main body of Hadrian's Mausoleum, which was con- 
 verted into a fortress during the Middle Ages. 
 
loo LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 swivel, and about the size of a demi-culverin. This I 
 emptied, and loaded it again with a good charge of 
 fine powder mixed with the coarser sort ; then I aimed 
 it exactly at the man in red, elevating prodigiously, 
 because a piece of that calibre could hardly be expected 
 to carry true at such a distance. I fired, and hit my 
 man exactly in the middle. He had trussed his sword 
 in front,^ for swagger, after a way those Spaniards 
 have; and my ball, when it struck him, broke upon 
 the blade, and one could see the fellow cut in two fair 
 halves. The Pope, who was expecting nothing of this 
 kind, derived great pleasure and amazement from the 
 sight, both because it seemed to him impossible that 
 one should aim and hit the mark at such a distance, 
 and also because the man was cut in two, and he could 
 not comprehend how this should happen. He sent for 
 me, and asked about it. I explained all the devices 
 I had used in firing ; but told him that why the man 
 was cut in halves, neither he nor I could know. Upon 
 my bended knees I then besought him. to give me"^ the 
 pardon of his blessing for that homicide, and for all the 
 others I had committed in the castle in the service of 
 the Church. Thereat the Pope, raising his hand, and 
 making a large open sign of the cross upon my face, 
 told me that he blessed me, and that he gave me pardon 
 for all murders I had ever perpetrated, or should ever 
 perpetrate, in the service of the Apostolic Church. 
 When I left him, I went aloft, and never stayed from 
 firing to the utmost of my power ; and few were the 
 shots of mine that missed their mark. My drawing, 
 and my fine studies in my craft, and my charming art 
 of music, all were swallowed up in the din of that 
 
 ^ S'aveva mcsso la sjpada dinanzi. Perhaps was bearing his sword in 
 front of him. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 artillery ; and if I were to relate in detail all the 
 splendid things I did in that infernal work of cruelty, 
 I should make the world stand by and wonder. But, 
 not to be too prolix, I will pass them over. Only I 
 must tell a few of the most remarkable, which are, as it 
 were, forced in upon me. 
 
 To begin then : pondering day and night what I 
 could render for my own part in defence of Holy 
 Church, and having noticed that the enemy changed 
 guard and marched past through the great gate of 
 Santo Spirito, which was within a reasonable range, I 
 thereupon directed my attention to that spot ; but, 
 having to shoot sideways, I could not do the damage 
 that I wished, although I killed a fair percentage 
 every day. This induced our adversaries, when they 
 saw their passage covered by my guns, to load the roof 
 of a certain house one night with thirty gabions, which 
 obstructed the view I formerly enjoyed. Taking better 
 thought than I had done of the whole situation, I now 
 turned all my five pieces of artillery directly on the 
 gabions, and waited till the evening hour, when they 
 changed guard. Our enemies, thinking they were safe, 
 came on at greater ease and in a closer body than usual ; 
 whereupon I set fire to my blow-pipes.^ Not merely 
 did I dash to pieces the gabions which stood in my 
 way ; but, what was better, by that one blast I 
 slaughtered more than thirty men. In consequence of 
 this manoeuvre, which I repeated twice, the soldiers 
 were thrown into such disorder, that being, moreover, 
 encumbered with the spoils of that great sack, and some 
 of them desirous of enjoying the fruits of their labour, 
 they oftentimes showed a mind to mutiny and take 
 themselves away from Rome. However, after coming 
 
 1 Soffioni, the cannon being like tubes to blow a fire up. 
 
102 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 to terms with their valiant captain, Gian di Urbino,'^ 
 they were ultimately compelled, at their excessive 
 inconvenience, to take another road when they changed 
 guard. It cost them three miles of march, whereas 
 before they had but half a mile. Having achieved this 
 feat, I was entreated with prodigious favours by all the 
 men of quality who were invested in the castle. This 
 incident was so important that I thought it well to 
 relate it, before finishing the history of things outside 
 my art, the which is the real object of my writing; 
 forsooth, if I wanted to ornament my biography with 
 such matters, I should have far too much to tell. 
 There is only one more circumstance which, now that 
 the occasion offers, I propose to record. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 I shall skip over some intervening circumstances, 
 and tell how Pope Clement, wishing to save the tiaras 
 and the whole collection of the great jewels of the 
 Apostolic Camera, had me called, and shut himself up 
 together with me and the Cavalierino in a room alone.^ 
 This Cavalierino had been a groom in the stable of 
 Filippo Strozzi ; he was French, and a person of the 
 lowest birth ; but being a most faithful servant, the 
 
 ^ Thid captain was a Spaniard, who played a very considerable figure 
 in the war, distinguishing himself at the capture of Genoa and the 
 battle of Lodi in 1522, and afterwards acting as Lieutenant-General to 
 the Prince of Orange. He held Naples against Orazio Baglioni in 1528, 
 and died before Spello in 1529. 
 
 2 This personage cannot be identified. The Filippo Strozzi men- 
 tioned as having been his master was the great opponent of the Medicean 
 despotism, who killed himself in prison after the defeat of Montemurlo 
 in 1539. He married in early life a daughter of Picro de' Medici. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 103 
 
 Pope iiad made him very rich, and confided in him Hke 
 himself. So the Pope, the Cavaliere, and I, being shut 
 up together, they laid before me the tiaras and jewels 
 of the regalia ; and his Holiness ordered me to take all 
 the gems out of their gold settings. This I accordingly 
 did ; afterwards I wrapt them separately up in bits of 
 paper, and we sewed them into the linings of the Pope's 
 and the Cavaliere's clothes. Then they gave me all the 
 gold, which weighed about two hundred pounds, and 
 bade me melt it down as secretly as I was able. I went 
 up to the Angel, where I had my lodging, and could 
 lock the door so as to be free from interruption. There 
 I built a little draught-furnace of bricks, with a largish 
 pot, shaped like an open dish, at the bottom of it ; and 
 throwing the gold upon the coals, it gradually sank 
 through and dropped into the pan. While the furnace 
 was working, I never left off watching how to annoy 
 our enemies ; and as their trenches were less than a 
 stone's-throw right below us, I was able to inflict con- 
 siderable damage on them with some useless missiles,^ 
 of which there were several piles, forming the old 
 munition of the castle. I chose a swivel and a falconet, 
 which were both a little damaged in the muzzle, and 
 filled them with the projectiles I have mentioned. 
 When I fired my guns, they hurtled down like mad, 
 occasioning all sorts of unexpected mischief in the 
 trenches. Accordingly I kept these pieces always 
 going at the same time that the gold was being melted 
 down ; and a little before vespers I noticed some one 
 coming along the margin of the trench on mule-back. 
 The mule was trotting very quickly, and the man was 
 talking to the soldiers in the trenches. I took the 
 precaution of discharging my artillery just before he 
 
 ^ Passatojacci, 
 
I04 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 came immediately opposite ; and so, making a good cal- 
 culation, I hit my mark. One of the fragments struck 
 him in the face ; the rest were scattered on the mule, 
 which fell dead, A tremendous uproar rose up from the 
 trench ; I opened fire with my other piece, doing them 
 great hurt. The man turned out to be the Prince of 
 Orange, who was carried through the trenches to a cer- 
 tain tavern in the neighbourhood, whither in a short 
 while all the chief folk of the army came together. 
 
 When Pope Clement heard what I had done, he sent 
 at once to call for me, and inquired into the circum- 
 stance. I related the whole, and added that the man 
 must have been of the greatest consequence, because 
 the inn to which they carried him had been immediately 
 filled by all the chiefs of the army, so far at least as I 
 could judge. The Pope, with a shrewd instinct, sent 
 for Messer Antonio Santacroce, the nobleman who, as I 
 have said, was chief and commander of the gunners. 
 He bade him order all us bombardiers to point our 
 pieces, which were very numerous, in one mass upon 
 the house, and to discharge them all together upon the 
 signal of an arquebuse being fired. He judged that if 
 we killed the generals, the army, which was already 
 almost on the point of breaking up, would take to flight. 
 God perhaps had heard the prayers they kept continu- 
 ally making, and meant to rid them in this manner of 
 those impious scoundrels. 
 
 We put our cannon in order at the command of 
 Santacroce, and waited for the signal. But when 
 Cardinal Orsini^ became aware of what was going 
 forward, he began to expostulate with the Pope, pro- 
 
 1 Franciotto Orsini was educated in the household of his kinsman 
 Lorenzo de' Medici. He followed the profession of arms, and married ; 
 but after losing his wife took orders, and received the hat in 15 17. 
 
 IMtariMNIlii 
 
BOOK FIRST. 105 
 
 testing that the thing by no means ought to happen, 
 seeing they "were on the point of concluding an accom- 
 modation, and that if the generals were killed, the 
 rabble of the troops without a leader would storm the 
 castle and complete their utter ruin. Consequently they 
 could by no means allow the Pope's plan to be carried 
 out. The poor Pope, in despair, seeing himself assas- 
 sinated both inside the castle and without, said that 
 he left them to arrange it. On this, our orders were 
 countermanded ; but I, who chafed against the leash ,^ 
 when I knew that they were coming round to bid me 
 stop from firing, let blaze one of my demi-cannons, and 
 struck a pillar in the courtyard of the house, around 
 which I saw a crowd of people clustering. This shot 
 did such damage to the enemy that it was like to have 
 made them evacuate the house. Cardinal Orsini was 
 absolutely for having me hanged or put to death ; but 
 the Pope took up my cause with spirit. The high 
 words that passed between them, though I well know 
 what they were, I will not here relate, because I make 
 no profession of writing history. It is enough for me 
 to occupy myself with my own affairs. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 After I had melted down the gold, I took it to the 
 Pope, who thanked me cordially for what I had done, 
 and ordered the Cavalierino to give me twenty-five 
 crowns, apologising to me for his inability to give me 
 more. A few days afterwards the articles of peace 
 were signed. I went with three hundred comrades in 
 the train of Signer Orazio Baglioni toward Perugia ; 
 
 ^ lo che non potevo stare alle mosse. 
 
io6 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 and there lie" wished to make me captain of the com- 
 pany, but I was unwilling at the moment, saying 
 that I wanted first to go and see my father, and to 
 redeem the ban which was still in force against me at 
 Florence. Signor Orazio told me that he had been 
 appointed general of the Florentines ; and Ser Pier 
 Maria del Lotto, the envoy from Florence, was with 
 him, to whom he specially recommended me as his 
 man.i 
 
 In course of time I came to Florence in the company 
 of several comrades. The plague was raging with 
 indescribable fury. When I reached home, I found 
 my good father, who thought either that I must have 
 been killed in the sack of Eome, or else that I should 
 come back to him a beggar. However, I entirely 
 defeated both these expectations ; for I was alive, with 
 plenty of money, a fellow to wait on me, and a good 
 horse. My joy on greeting the old man was so intense, 
 that, while he embraced and kissed me, I thought that 
 I must die upon the spot. After I had narrated all 
 the devilries of that dreadful sack, and had given him 
 a good quantity of crowns which I had gained by my 
 soldiering, and when we had exchanged our tokens of 
 affection, he went off to the Eight to redeem my ban. 
 It so happened that one of those magistrates who 
 sentenced me, was now again a member of the board. 
 It was the very man who had so inconsiderately told 
 my father he meant to march me out into the country 
 with the lances. My father took this opportunity of 
 addressing him with some meaning words, in order to 
 
 ^ Pier Maria di Lotto of S. Miniato was notary to the Florentine 
 Signoria. He collected the remnants of the Bande Nere, and gave 
 them over to Orazio Baglioni, who contrived to escape from S. Angelo 
 in safety to Perugia. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 107 
 
 mark his revenge, relying on the favour which Orazio 
 Baglioni showed me. 
 
 Matters standing thus, I told my father how Signor 
 Orazio had appointed me captain, and that I ought to 
 begin to think of enlisting my company. At these 
 words the poor old man was greatly disturbed, and 
 begged me for God's sake not to turn my thoughts to 
 such an enterprise, although he knew I should be fit 
 for this or yet a greater business, adding that his other 
 son, my brother, was already a most valiant soldier, 
 and that I ought to pursue the noble art in which I 
 had laboured so many years and with such diligence of 
 study. Although I promised to obey him, he reflected, 
 like a man of sense, that if Signor Orazio came to Flor- 
 ence, I could not withdraw myself from military service, 
 partly because I had passed my word, as well as for 
 other reasons. He therefore thought of a good expe- 
 dient for sending me away, and spoke to me as follows : 
 " Oh, my dear son, the plague in this town is raging 
 with immitigable violence, and I am always fancying 
 you will come home infected with it. I remember, 
 when I was a young man, that I went to Mantua, 
 where I was very kindly received, and stayed there 
 several years. I pray and command you, for the love 
 of me, to pack off and go thither ; and I would have 
 you do this to-day rather than to-morrow." 
 
 XL. 
 
 I had always taken pleasure in seeing the world ; 
 and having never been in Mantua, I went there very 
 willingly. Of the money I had brought to Florence, 
 I left the greater part with my good father, promising 
 
io8 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 to help him wherever I might be, and confiding him 
 to the care of my elder sister. Her name was Cosa ; 
 and since she never cared to marry, she was admitted 
 as a nun in Santa Orsola ; but she put off taking the 
 veil, in order to keep house for our old father, and to 
 look after my younger sister, who was married to one 
 Bartolommeo, a surgeon. So then, leaving home with 
 my father's blessing, I mounted my good horse, and 
 f rode off on it to Mantua. 
 
 It would take too long to describe that little journey 
 in detail. The whole world being darkened over with 
 plague and war, I had the greatest difficulty in reaching 
 Mantua. However, in the end, I got there, and looked 
 about for work to do, which I obtained from a Maestro 
 Niccolo of Milan, goldsmith to the Duke of Mantua. 
 Having thus settled down to work, I went after two 
 days to visit Messer Giulio Romano, that most excellent 
 painter, of whom I have already spoken, and my very 
 good friend. He received me with the tenderest caresses, 
 and took it very ill that I had not dismounted at his 
 house. He was living like a lord, and executing a 
 great work for the Duke outside the city gates, in a 
 place called Del Te. It was a vast and prodigious 
 undertaking, as may still, I suppose, be seen by those 
 who go there.^ 
 
 Messer Giulio lost no time in speaking of me to the 
 Duke in terms of the warmest praise.^ That Prince 
 commissioned me to make a model for a reliquary, to 
 hold the blood of Christ, which they have there, and 
 say was brought them by Longinus. Then he turned 
 
 1 This is the famous Palazzo del Te, outside the walls of Mantua. It 
 still remains the chief monument of Giulio Romano's versatile genius. 
 
 ^ Federigo Gonzaga was at this time Marquis of Mantua. Charles V. 
 erected his fief into a duchy in 1530. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 109 
 
 to Giulio, bidding him supply me with a design for it. 
 To this Giulio replied : " My lord, Benvenuto is a man 
 who does not need other people's sketches, as your 
 Excellency will be very well able to judge when you 
 shall see his model." I set hand to the work, and 
 made a drawing for the reliquary, well adapted to con- 
 tain the sacred phial. Then I made a little waxen 
 model of the cover. This was a seated Christ, support- 
 ing his great cross aloft with the left hand, while he 
 seemed to lean against it, and with the fingers of his 
 right hand he appeared to be opening the wound in 
 his side. When it was finished, it pleased the Duke 
 so much that he heaped favours on me, and gave me 
 to understand that he would keep me in his service 
 with such appointments as should enable me to live in 
 affluence. 
 
 Meanwhile, I had paid my duty to the Cardinal his 
 brother, who begged the Duke to allow me to make 
 the pontifical seal of his most reverend lordship.^ This 
 I began; but while I was working at it I caught a 
 quartan fever. During each access of this fever I was 
 thrown into delirium, when I cursed Mantua and its 
 master and whoever stayed there at his own liking. 
 These words were reported to the Duke by the Milanese 
 goldsmith, who had not omitted to notice that the Duke 
 wanted to employ me. When the Prince heard the 
 ravings of my sickness, he flew into a passion against 
 me ; and I being out of temper with Mantua, our bad 
 feeling was reciprocal. The seal was finished after 
 
 ^ Ercole Gonzaga, created Cardinal in 1527. After the death of his 
 brother, Duke Federigo, he governed Mantua for sixteen years as regent 
 for his nephews, and became famous as a patron of arts and letters. He 
 died at Trento in 1563 while presiding over the Council there, in the 
 pontificate of Pius IV. 
 
no 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 four months, together with several other little pieces 
 I made for the Duke under the name of the Cardinal. 
 His Reverence paid me well, and bade me return to 
 Eome, to that marvellous city where we had made 
 acquaintance. 
 
 I quitted Mantua with a good sum of crowns, and 
 reached Governo, where the most valiant general 
 Giovanni had been killed.^ Here I had a slight re- 
 lapse of fever, which did not interrupt my journey, and 
 coming now to an end, it never returned on me again. 
 When I arrived at Florence, I hoped to find my dear 
 father, and knocking at the door, a humpbacked woman 
 in a fury showed her face at the window ; she drove me 
 off with a torrent of abuse, screaming that the sight of 
 me was a consumption to her. To this misshapen hag 
 I shouted : '"' Ho ! tell me, cross-grained hunchback, is 
 there no other face to see here but your ugly visage ? " 
 " No, and bad luck to you." Whereto I answered in a 
 loud voice : " In less than two hours may it ^ never vex 
 us more ! " Attracted by this dispute, a neighbour put 
 her head out, from whom I learned that my father and 
 all the people in the house had died of the plague. As 
 I had partly guessed it might be so, my grief was not 
 so great as it would otherwise have been. The woman 
 afterwards told me that only my sister Liperata had 
 escaped, and that she had taken refuge with a pious 
 lady named Mona Andrea de' Bellacci.^ 
 
 I took my way from thence to the inn, and met by 
 accident a very dear friend of mine, Giovanni Rigogli. 
 Dismounting at his house, we proceeded to the piazza, 
 
 1 Giovanni de' Medici, surnamed Delle Bande Nere. 
 
 2 i.e., your ugly visage. 
 
 3 Carpani states that between May and November 1527 about 40,000 
 persons died of plague in Florence, 
 
BOOK FIRST. Ill 
 
 where I received intelligence that my brother was alive, 
 and went to find him at the house of a friend of his 
 called Bertino Aldobrandini. On meeting, we made 
 demonstrations of the most passionate affection ; for he 
 had heard that I was dead, and I had heard that he 
 was dead; and so our joy at embracing one another 
 was extravagant. Then he broke out into a loud fit of 
 laughter, and said : " Come, brother, I will take you 
 where I'm sure you'd never guess! You must know 
 that I have given our sister Liperata away again in 
 marriage, and she holds it for absolutely certain that 
 you are dead." On our way we told each other all the 
 wonderful adventures we had met with ; and when we 
 reached the house where our sister dwelt, the surprise 
 of seeing me alive threw her into a fainting fit, and she 
 fell senseless in my arms. Had not my brother been 
 present, her speechlessness and sudden seizure must 
 have made her husband imagine I was some one 
 different from a brother — as indeed at first it did. 
 Cecchino, however, explained matters, and busied him- 
 self in helping the swooning woman, who soon came 
 to. Then, after shedding some tears for father, sister, 
 husband, and a little son whom she had lost, she began 
 to get the supper ready ; and during our merry meet- 
 ing all that evening we talked no more about dead 
 folk, but rather discoursed gaily about weddings. 
 Thus, then, with gladness and great enjoyment we 
 brought our supper-party to an end. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 On the entreaty of my brother and sister, I remained 
 at Florence, though my own inclination led me to 
 
112 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 return to Eome. Tlie dear friend, also, who had helped 
 me in some of my earlier troubles, as I have narrated 
 (I mean Piero, son of Giovanni Landi) — he too advised 
 me to make some stay in Florence ; for the Medici 
 were in exile, that is to say, Signor Ippolito and Signor 
 Alessandro, who were afterwards respectively Cardinal 
 and Duke of Florence; and he judged it would be well 
 for me to wait and see what happened.^ 
 
 At that time there arrived in Florence a Sienese, 
 called Girolamo Marretti, who had lived long in Turkey 
 and was a man of lively intellect. He came to my 
 shop, and commissioned me to make a golden medal to 
 be worn in the hat. The subject was to be Hercules 
 wrenching the lion's mouth. While I was working at 
 this piece, Michel Agnolo Buonarroti came oftentimes 
 to see it. I had spent infinite pains upon the design, 
 so that the attitude of the figure and the fierce passion 
 of the beast were executed in quite a different style 
 from that of any craftsman who had hitherto attempted 
 such groups. This, together with the fact that the 
 special branch of art was totally unknown to Michel 
 Agnolo, made the divine master give such praises to my 
 work that I felt incredibly inspired for further effort. 
 However, I found little else to do but jewel-setting; and 
 though I gained more thus than in any other way, yet 
 I was dissatisfied, for I would fain have been employed 
 
 ^ I may remind my readers that the three Medici of the ruling house 
 were now illegitimate. Clement VII. was the bastard son of Giuliano, 
 brother of Lorenzo the Magnificent. Ippolito, the Cardinal, was the 
 bastard of Giuliano, Duke of Nemours, son of Lorenzo the Magnificent. 
 Alessandro was the reputed bastard of Lorenzo, Duke of Urbino, grand- 
 son of Lorenzo the Magnificent. Alessandro became Duke of Florence, 
 and after poisoning his cousin Cardinal Ippolito, was murdered by a 
 distant cousin, Lorenzino de' Medici. In this way the male line of 
 Lorenzo the M.agnificent was extinguished. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 113 
 
 upon some higher task than that of setting precious 
 stones. 
 
 Just then I met with Federigo Ginori, a young man 
 of a very lofty spirit. He had lived some years in 
 Naples, and being endowed with great charms of person 
 and presence, had been the lover of a Neapolitan prin- 
 cess. He wanted to have a medal made, with Atlas 
 bearing the world upon his shoulders, and applied to 
 Michel Agnolo for a design. Michel Agnolo made this 
 answer : " Go and find out a young goldsmith named 
 Benvenuto ; he will serve you admirably, and certainly 
 he does not stand in need of sketches by me. How- 
 ever, to prevent your thinking that I want to save 
 myself the trouble of so slight a matter, I will gladly 
 sketch you something ; but meanwhile speak to Ben- 
 venuto, and let him also make a model ; he can then 
 execute the better of the two designs." Federigo 
 Ginori came to me, and told me what he wanted, adding 
 thereto how Michel Agnolo had praised me, and how 
 he had suggested I should make a waxen model while 
 he undertook to supply a sketch. The words of that 
 great man so heartened me, that I set myself to work 
 at once with eagerness upon the model ; and when I 
 had finished it, a painter who was intimate with Michel 
 Agnolo, called Giuliano Bugiardini, brought me the 
 drawing of Atlas.i On the same occasion I showed 
 Giuliano my little model in wax, which was very 
 different from Michel Agnolo's drawing ; and Federigo, 
 in concert with Bugiardini, agreed that I should work 
 upon my model. So I took it in hand, and when 
 Michel Agnolo saw it, he praised me to the skies. 
 
 1 This painter was the pupil of Bertoldo, a man of simple manners 
 'and of some excellence in his art. The gallery at Bologna has a fine 
 specimen of his painting. Michel Agnolo delighted in his society. 
 VOL, I. H 
 
114 LIFE OF BEN VENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 This was a figure, as I have said, chiselled on a plate 
 of gold ; Atlas had the heaven upon his back, made out 
 of a crystal ball, engraved with the zodiac upon a field 
 of lapis-lazuli. The whole composition produced an 
 indescribably fine effect ; and under it ran the legend 
 Summa tulisse juvat} Federigo was so thoroughly 
 well pleased that he paid me very liberally. Aluigi 
 Alamanni was at that time in Florence. Federigo 
 Ginori, who enjoyed his friendship, brought him often 
 to my workshop, and through this introduction we 
 became very intimate together.- 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Pope Clement had now declared war upon the city 
 of Florence, which thereupon was put in a state of 
 defence ; and the militia being organised in each quarter 
 of the town, I too received orders to serve in my turn. 
 I provided myself with a rich outfit, and went about 
 with the highest nobility of Florence, who showed a 
 unanimous desire to fight for the defence of our liberties. 
 Meanwhile the speeches which are usual upon such 
 occasions were made in every quarter ; ^ the young men 
 met together more than was their wont, and everywhere 
 we had but one topic of conversation. 
 
 It happened one day, about noon, that a crowd of 
 tall men and lusty young fellows, the first in the city, 
 
 ^ Cellini says Summam. 
 
 ^ This was the agreeable didactic poet Luigi Alamanni, who had to 
 fly from Florence after a conspiracy against Cardinal Giulio de' Medici 
 ill 1522. He could never reconcile himself to the Medicean tyranny, 
 and finally took refuge in France, where he was honoured by Frangois 
 I. He died at Amboise in 1556. 
 
 ^ Fecesi quelle orazioni. It may mean "the prayers weie offered up." 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 It: 
 
 were assembled in my workshop, when a letter from 
 Rome was put into my hands. It came from a man 
 called Maestro Giacopino della Barca. His real name 
 was Giacopo della Sciorina, but they called him della 
 Barca in Eome, because he kept a ferry-boat upon the 
 Tiber between Poute Sisto and Ponte Santo Agnolo. 
 He was a person of considerable talent, distinguished 
 by his pleasantries and striking conversation, and he 
 had formerly been a designer of patterns for the cloth- 
 weavers in Florence. This man was intimate with the 
 Pope, who took great pleasure in hearing him talk. 
 Being one day engaged in conversation, they touched 
 upon the sack and the defence of the castle. This 
 brought me to the Pope's mind, and he spoke of me 
 in the very highest terms, adding that if he knew 
 where I was, he should be glad to get me back. 
 Maestro Giacopo said I was in Florence ; whereupon 
 the Pope bade the man write and tell me to return to 
 him. The letter I have mentioned was to the effect that 
 I should do well if I resumed the service of Clement, 
 and that this was sure to turn out to my advantage. 
 
 The young men who were present were curious to 
 know what the letter contained ; wherefore I concealed 
 it as well as I could. Afterwards I wrote to Maestro 
 Giacopo, begging him by no means, whether for good 
 or evil, to write to me again. He however grew more 
 obstinate in his officiousness, and wrote me another 
 letter, so extravagantly worded, that if it had been 
 seen, I should have got into serious trouble. The 
 substance of it was that the Pope required me to come 
 at once, wanting to employ me on work of the greatest 
 consequence ; also that if I wished to act aright, I 
 ought to throw up everything, and not to stand against 
 a Pope in the party of those hare-brained Eadicals. 
 
ii6 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLIKI. 
 
 This letter, when I read it, put me in such a fright, 
 that I went to seek my dear friend Piero Landi. 
 Directly he set eyes on me, he asked what accident 
 had happened to upset me so. I told my friend that 
 it was quite impossible for me to explain what lay 
 tipon my mind, and what was causing me this trouble ; 
 only I entreated him to take the keys I gave him, and 
 to return the gems and gold in my drawers to such 
 and such persons, whose names he would find inscribed 
 upon my memorandum-book ; next, I begged him to 
 pack up the furniture of my house, and keep account 
 of it with his usual loving-kindness ; and in a few days 
 he should hear where I was. The prudent young man, 
 guessing perhaps pretty nearly how the matter stood, 
 replied : " My brother, go your ways quickly ; then 
 write to me, and have no further care about your 
 things." I did as he advised. He was the most loyal 
 friend, the wisest, the most worthy, the most discreet, 
 the most affectionate that I have ever known. I left 
 Florence and went to Eome, and from there I wrote 
 to him.^ 
 
 XLIIT. 
 
 Upon my arrival in Eome, I found several of my 
 former friends, by whom I was very well received and 
 
 ^ Cellini has been severely taxed for leaving Florence at this juncture 
 and taking service under Pope Clement, the oppressor of her liberties. 
 His own narrative admits some sense of shame. Yet we should remem- 
 ber that he never took any decided part in politics, and belonged to a 
 family of Medicean sympathies. His father served Lorenzo and Piero ; 
 his brother was a soldier of Giovanni delle Bande Nere and Duke 
 Alessandro. Many most excellent Florentines were convinced that the 
 Medicean government was beneficial ; and an artist had certainly more 
 to expect from it than from the Republic. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 117 
 
 kindly entertained. No time was lost before I set 
 myself to work at things which brought me profit, but 
 were not notable enough to be described. There was 
 a fine old man, a goldsmith, called Eafiaello del Moro, 
 who had considerable reputation in the trade, and was 
 to boot a very worthy fellow. He begged me to consent 
 to enter his workshop, saying he had some commissions 
 of importance to execute, on which high profits might 
 be looked for; so I accepted his proposal with good-will. 
 
 More than ten days had elapsed,' and I had not 
 presented myself to Maestro Giacopino della Barca. 
 Meeting me one day by accident, he gave me a hearty 
 welcome, and asked me how long I had been in Rome. 
 When I told him I had been there about a fortnight, 
 he took it very ill, and said that I showed little esteem 
 for a Pope, who had urgently compelled him to write 
 three times for me. I, who had taken his persist- 
 ence in the matter still more ill, made no reply, but 
 swallowed down my irritation. The man, who suffered 
 from a flux of words, began one of his long yarns, and 
 went on talking, till at the last, when I saw him tired 
 out, I merely said that he might bring me to the Pope 
 when he saw fit. He answered that any time would do 
 for him ; and I, that I was always ready. So we took our 
 way toward the palace. It was a Maundy Thursday; and 
 when we reached the apartments of the Pope, he being 
 known there and I expected, we were at once admitted. 
 
 The Pope was in bed, suffering from a slight indis- 
 position, and he had with him Messer Jacopo Salviati 
 and the Archbishop of Capua.i When the Pope set 
 
 ^ Nicholas Schomberg, a learned Dominican and disciple of Savon- 
 arola, made Archbishop of Capua in 1520. He was a faithful and able 
 minister of Clement. Paul III. gave him the hat in 1535, and he died 
 in 1537- 
 
 ittiilialMttiiiiiiiiiiii^^ 
 
n8 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 eyes on me, he was exceedingly glad. I kissed his 
 feet, and then, as humbly as I could, drew near to 
 him, and let him understand that I had things of 
 consequence to utter. On this he waved his hand, and 
 the two prelates retired to a distance from us. I began 
 at once to speak : " Most blessed Father, from the 
 time of the sack up to this hour, I have never been 
 able to confess or to communicate, because they refuse 
 me absolution. The case is this. When I melted 
 down the gold and worked at the unsetting of those 
 jewels, your Holiness ordered the Cavalierino to give 
 me a modest reward for my labours, of which I received 
 nothing, but on the contrary he rather paid me with 
 abuse. When then I ascended to the chamber where 
 I had melted down the gold, and washed the ashes, I 
 found about a pound and a half of gold in tiny grains 
 like millet-seeds; and inasmuch as I had not money 
 enough to take me home respectably, I thought I 
 would avail myself of this, and give it back again when 
 opportunity should offer. Now I am here at the feet 
 of your Holiness, who is the only true confessor. I 
 entreat you to do me the favour of granting me indul- 
 gence, so that I may be able to confess and communicate, 
 and by the grace of your Holiness regain the grace 
 of my Lord God." Upon this the Pope, with a scarcely 
 perceptible sigh, remembering perhaps his former trials, 
 spoke as follows : " Benvenuto, I thoroughly believe 
 what you tell me ; it is in my power to absolve you of 
 any unbecoming deed you may have done, and, what 
 is more, I have the will. So, then, speak out with 
 frankness and perfect confidence ; for if you had taken 
 the value of a whole tiara, I am quite ready to pardon 
 you." Thereupon I answered : " I took nothing, most 
 blessed Father, but what I have confessed : and this 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 119 
 
 did not amount to the value of 140 ducats, for that was 
 the sura I received from the Mint in Perugia, and with 
 it I went home to comfort my poor old father." The 
 Pope said : " Your father has been as virtuous, good, 
 and worthy a man as was ever born, and you have not 
 degenerated from him. I am very sorry that the 
 money was so little; but such as you say it was, I 
 make you a present of it, and give you my full pardon. 
 Assure your confessor of this, if there is nothing else 
 upon your conscience which concerns me. Afterwards, 
 when you have confessed and communicated, you shall 
 present yourself to me again, and it will be to your 
 advantage." 
 
 When I parted from the Pope, Messer Giacopo and 
 the Archbishop approached, and the Pope spoke to 
 them in the highest terms imaginable about me ; he 
 said that he had confessed and absolved me ; then he 
 commissioned the Archbishop of Capua to send for me 
 and ask if I had any other need beyond this matter, 
 giving him full leave to absolve me amply, and bidding 
 him, moreover, treat me with the utmost kindness. 
 
 While I was walking away with Maestro Giacopino, 
 he asked me very inquisitively what was the close 
 and lengthy conversation I had had with his Holiness. 
 After he had repeated the question more than twice, 
 I said that I did not mean to tell him, because they 
 were matters with which he had nothing to do, and 
 therefore he need not go on asking me. Then I went 
 to do what had been agreed on with the Pope ; and 
 after the two festivals were over, I again presented 
 myself before his Holiness. He received me even 
 better than before, and said : " If you had come a little 
 earlier to Rome, I should have commissioned you to 
 restore my two tiaras, which were pulled to pieces in 
 
126 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 the castle. These, however, with the exception of the 
 gems, are objects of little artistic interest ; so I will 
 employ you on a piece of the very greatest conse- 
 quence, where you will be able to exhibit all your 
 talents. It is a button for my priest's cope, which has 
 to be made round like a trencher, and as big as a little 
 trencher, one-third of a cubit wide. Upon this I want 
 you to represent a God the Father in half-relief, and 
 in the middle to set that magnificent big diamond, 
 which you remember, together with several other gems 
 of the greatest value. Caradosso began to make me 
 one, but did not finish it ; I want yours to be finished 
 quickly, so that I may enjoy the use of it a little while. 
 Go, then, and make me a fine model." He had all the 
 jewels shown me, and then I went oflflike a shot^ to set 
 myself to work. 
 
 XLiy. 
 
 During the time when Florence was besieged, Fede- 
 rigo Ginori, for whom I made that medal of Atlas, died 
 of consumption, and the medal came into the hands 
 of Messer Luigi Alamanni, who, after a little while, 
 took it to present in person to Francis, king of France, 
 accompanied by some of his own finest compositions. 
 The King was exceedingly delighted with the gift ; 
 whereupon Messer Luigi told his Majesty so much 
 about my personal qualities, as well as my art, and 
 spoke so favourably, that the King expressed a wish 
 to know me. 
 
 Meanwhile I pushed my model for the button for- 
 ward with all the diligence I could, constructing it 
 exactly of the size which the jewel itself was meant to 
 
 ^ Affusolato. Lit. straight as a spindle. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 121 
 
 have. In the trade of the goldsmiths it roused con- 
 siderable jealousy among those who thought that they 
 were capable of matching it. A certain Micheletto 
 had just come to Home ; ^ he was very clever at engrav- 
 ing cornelians, and was, moreover, a most intelligent 
 jeweller, an old man and of great celebrity. He had 
 been employed upon the Pope's tiaras ; and while I 
 was working at my model, he wondered much that I had 
 not applied to him, being as he was a" man of intelli- 
 gence and of large credit with the Pope. At last, when 
 he saw that I was not coming to him, he came to me, 
 and asked me what I was about. " What the Pope 
 has ordered me," I answered. Then he said : " The 
 Pope has commissioned me to superintend everything 
 which is being made for his Holiness." I only replied 
 that I would ask the Pope, and then should know what 
 answer I ought to give him. He told me that I should 
 repent, and departing in anger, had an interview with 
 all the masters of the art ; they deliberated on the 
 matter, and charged Michele with the conduct of the 
 whole affair. As was to be expected from a person of 
 his talents, he ordered more than thirty drawings to be 
 made, all differing in their details, for the piece the 
 Pope had commissioned. 
 
 Having already access to his Holiuess's ear, he took 
 into his counsel another jeweller, named Pompeo, a 
 Milanese, who was in favour with the Pope, and related 
 to Messer Traiano, the first chamberlain of the court; - 
 these two together, then, began to insinuate that they 
 had seen my model, and did not think me up to a work 
 of such extraordinary import. The Pope replied that 
 he would also have to see it, and that if he then found 
 
 1 Vasari calls this eminent engraver of gems Michelino. 
 ^ Messer Traiano Alicorno. 
 
LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 me unfit for the purpose, he should look around for one 
 who was fit. Both of them put in that they had 
 several excellent designs ready ; to which the Pope 
 made answer, that he was very pleased to hear it, but 
 that he did not care to look at them till I had completed 
 my model ; afterwards, he would take them all into 
 consideration at the same time. 
 
 After a few days I finished my model, and took it to 
 the Pope one morning, when Messer Traiano made me 
 wait till he had sent for Micheletto and Pompeo, bidding 
 them make haste and bring their drawings. On their 
 arrival we were introduced, and Micheletto and Pompeo 
 immediately unrolled their papers, which the Pope 
 inspected. The draughtsmen who had been employed 
 were not in the jeweller's trade, and therefore knew 
 nothing about giving their right place to precious 
 stones; and the jewellers, on their side, had not shown 
 them how ; for I ought to say that a jeweller, when he 
 has to work with figures, must of necessity understa.nd 
 design, else he cannot produce anything worth looking 
 at : and so it turned out that all of them had stuck that 
 famous diamond in the middle of the breast of God the 
 Father. The Pope, who was an excellent connoisseur, 
 observing this mistake, approved of none of them ; and 
 when he had looked at about ten, he flung the rest 
 down, and said to me, who was standing at a distance : 
 " Now show me your model, Benvenuto, so that I may 
 see if you have made the same mistake as those fellows," 
 I came forward, and opened a little round box ; where- 
 upon one would have thought that a light from heaven 
 had struck the Pope's eyes. He cried aloud : " If you 
 had been in my own body, you could not have done it 
 better, as this proves. Those men there have found 
 the right way to bring shame upon themselves ! " A 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 123 
 
 crowd of great lords pressing round, the Pope pointed 
 out the difference between my model and the drawings. 
 When he had sufficiently commended it, the others 
 standing terrified and stupid before him, he turned to 
 me and said : " I am only afraid of one thing, and that 
 is of the utmost consequence. Friend Benvenuto, wax 
 is easy to work in ; the real difficulty is to excute this 
 in gold." To those words I answered without a 
 moment's hesitation : '* Most blessed Father, if I do 
 not work it ten times better than the model, let it be 
 agreed beforehand that you pay me nothing." When 
 they heard this, the noblemen made a great stir, crying 
 out that I was promising too much. Among them was 
 an eminent philosopher, who spoke out in my favour : 
 " From the fine physiognomy and bodily symmetry 
 which I observe in this young man, I predict that he 
 will accomplish what he says, and think that he will 
 even go beyond it." The Pope put in : " And this is 
 my opinion also." Then he called his chamberlain, 
 Messer Traiano, and bade him bring five hundred 
 golden ducats of the Camera. 
 
 While we were waiting for the money, the Pope 
 turned once more to gaze at leisure on the dexterous 
 device I had employed for combining the diamond with 
 the figure of God the Father. I had put the diamond 
 exactly in the centre of the piece ; and above it God 
 the Father was shown seated, leaning nobly in a side- 
 ways attitude,! which made a perfect composition, and 
 did not interfere with the stone's effect. Lifting his 
 right hand, he was in the act of giving the benediction. 
 Below the diamond I had placed three children, who, 
 with their arms upraised, were supporting the jewel, 
 
 ^ In un ccrto bel modo svolto. That means : turned aside, not 
 fronting the spectator. 
 
124 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 One of them, in the middle, was in full relief, the other 
 two in half-relief. All round I set a crowd of cherubs, 
 in divers attitudes, adapted to the other gems. A 
 mantle undulated to the wind around the figure of the 
 Father, from the folds of which cherubs peeped out; 
 and there were other ornaments besides which made a 
 very beautiful effect. The work was executed in white 
 stucco on a black stone. When the money came, the 
 Pope gave it me with his own hand, and begged me in 
 the most winning terms to let him have it finished 
 in his own days, adding that this should be to my 
 advantage. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 I took the money and the model home, and was in 
 the utmost impatience to begin my work. After I had 
 laboured diligently for eight days, the Pope sent word 
 by one of his chamberlains, a very great gentleman of 
 Bologna, that I was to come to him and bring what I 
 had got in hand. On the way, the chamberlain, who 
 was the most gentle-mannered person in the Roman 
 court, told me that the Pope not only wanted to see 
 what I was doing, but also intended to intrust me with 
 another task of the highest consequence, which was, in 
 fact, to furnish dies for the money of the Mint ; and 
 bade me arm myself beforehand with the answer I 
 should give ; in short, he wished me to be prepared, 
 and therefore he had spoken. When we came into the 
 presence, I lost no time in exhibiting the golden plate, 
 upon which I had as yet carved nothing but my figure 
 of God the Father ; but this, though only in the rough, 
 displayed a grander style than that of the waxen model. 
 The Pope regarded it with stupefaction, and exclaimed : 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 125 
 
 " From this moment forward I will believe everything 
 you say." Then loading me with marks of favour, he 
 added : " It is my intention to give you another com- 
 mission, which, if you feel competent to execute it, I 
 shall have no less at heart than this, or more." He 
 proceeded to tell me that he wished to make dies for 
 the coinage of his realm, and asked me if I had 
 ever tried my hand at such things, and if I had the 
 courage to attempt them. I answered that of courage 
 for the task I had no lack, and that I had seen how 
 dies were made, but that I had not ever made any. 
 There was in the presence a certain Messer Tommaso, 
 of Prato, his Holiness's Datary ; ^ and this man, being 
 a friend of my enemies, put in : " Most blessed Father, 
 the favours you are showering upon this young man 
 (and he by nature so extremely overbold) are enough to 
 make him promise you a new world. You have already 
 given him one great task, and now, by adding a greater, 
 you are like to make them clash together." The Pope, 
 in a rage, turned round on him, and told him to mind 
 his own business. Then he commanded me to make 
 the model for a broad doubloon of gold, upon which he 
 wanted a naked Christ with his hands tied, and the 
 inscription Ecce Homo ; the reverse was to have a Pope 
 and Emperor in the act together of propping up a 
 cross which seemed to fall, and this legend : Unus 
 spiritus et ttna fides erat in eis. 
 
 After the Pope had ordered this handsome coin, 
 Bandinello the sculptor came up ; he had not yet been 
 
 -• His full name was Tommaso Cortese. The Papal Datario was the 
 chief secretary of the office for requests, petitions, and patents. His 
 title was derived from its being his duty to affix the Datum Romce to 
 documents. The fees of this office, which was also called Datario, 
 brought in a large revenue to the Papacy. 
 
i26 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENQTO CELLINI. 
 
 made a knight ; and, with his wonted presumption 
 muffled up in ignorance, said : " For these goldsmiths 
 one must make drawings for such fine things as that." 
 I turned round upon him in a moment, and cried out 
 that I did not want his drawings for my art, but that 
 I hoped before very long to give his art some trouble 
 by my drawings. The Pope expressed high satisfac- 
 tion at these words, and turning to me said : " Go then, 
 my Benvenuto, aad devote yourself with spirit to my 
 service, and do not lend an ear to the chattering of 
 these silly fellows." 
 
 So I went off, and very quickly made two dies of 
 steel ; then I stamped a coin in gold, and one Sunday 
 after dinner took the coin and the dies to the Pope, 
 who, when he saw the piece, was astonished and 
 greatly gratified, not only because my work pleased 
 him excessively, but also because of the rapidity with 
 which I had performed it. For the further satisfaction 
 and amazement of his Holiness, I had brought with me 
 all the old coins which in former times had been made 
 by those able men who served Popes Giulio and Leo ; 
 and when I noticed that mine pleased him far better, 
 I drew forth from my bosom a patent,^ in which I 
 prayed for the post of stamp-master ^ in the Mint. This 
 place was worth six golden crowns a month, in addition 
 to the dies, which were paid at the rate of a ducat for 
 three by the Master of the Mint. The Pope took my 
 patent and handed it to the Datary, telling him to lose 
 no time in dispatching the business. The Datary 
 began to put it in his pocket, saying : " Most blessed 
 Father, your Holiness ought not to go so fast; these 
 
 ^ Moto propio. Cellini confuses his petition with the instrument, 
 which he had probably drawn up ready for signature. 
 
 '■' Maestro delle stampe della zecca, i.e., the artist who made the dies. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 127 
 
 are matters which deserve some reflection," To this 
 the Pope replied : " I have heard v^hat you have got 
 to say ; give me here that patent." He took it, and 
 signed it at once with his own hand; then, giving it 
 back, added : " Now, you have no answer left; see that 
 you dispatch it at once, for this is my pleasure ; and 
 Benvenuto's shoes are worth more than the eyes of 
 all those other blockheads." So, having thanked his 
 Holiness, I went back, rejoicing above measure, to my 
 work. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 I was still working in the shop of Raffaello del Moro. 
 This worthy man had a very beautiful young daughter, 
 with regard to whom he had designs on me; and I, 
 becoming partly aware of his intentions, was very 
 willing ; but, while indulging such desires, I made no 
 show of them : on the contrary, I was so discreet in my 
 behaviour that I made him wonder. It so happened 
 that the poor girl was attacked by a disorder in her 
 right hand, which ate into the two bones belonging to 
 the little finger and the next.^ Owing to her father's 
 carelessness, she had been treated by an ignorant 
 quack-doctor, who predicted that the poor child would 
 be crippled in the whole of her right arm, if even 
 nothing worse should happen. When I noticed the 
 dismay of her father, I begged him not to believe all 
 that this ignorant doctor had said. He replied that 
 he had no acquaintance with physicians or with 
 surgeons, and entreated me, if I knew of one, to bring 
 him to the house.^ I sent at once for a certain Maestro 
 
 ^ Gssicina che seguitano it dito, &c. Probably metacarpal bones, 
 ^ Che gnenc avviasse. 
 
128 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 Giacomo of Perugia, a mau of great skill in surgery, 
 who examined the poor girl.i She was dreadfully 
 frightened, through having gained some inkling of the 
 quack's predictions ; whereas, my intelligent doctor 
 declared that she would suffer nothing of consequence, 
 and would be very well able to use her right hand ; also 
 that though the two last fingers must remain some- 
 what weaker than the others, this would be of no incon- 
 venience at all to her. So he began his treatment; 
 and after a few days, when he was going to extract a 
 portion of the diseased bones, her father called for me, 
 and begged me to be present at the operation. Maestro 
 Giacomo was using some coarse steel instruments ; and 
 when I observed that he was making little way and at 
 the same time was inflicting severe pain on the patient, 
 I begged him to stop and wait half a quarter of an 
 hour for me. I ran into the shop, and made a little 
 scalping-iron of steel, extremely thin and curved ; it 
 cut like a razor. On my return, the surgeon used it, 
 and began to work with so gentle a hand that she felt 
 no pain, and in a short while the operation was over. 
 In consequence of this service, and for other reasons, the 
 worthy man conceived for me as much love, or more, as 
 he had for two male children ; and in the meanwhile he 
 attended to the cure of his beautiful young daughter. 
 
 I was on terms of the closest intimacy with one 
 Messer Giovanni Gaddi, who was a clerk of the Camera, 
 and a great connoisseur of the arts, although he had 
 no practical acquaintance with any.^ In his household 
 
 1 Giacomo Rastelli was a native of Rimini, but was popularly known 
 as of Perugia, since he had resided long in that city. He was a famous 
 surgeon under several Popes until the year 1566, when he died at Rome, 
 aged seventy-five, 
 
 ^ Giovanni Gaddi of the Florentine family was passionately attached 
 to men of art and letters. Yet he seems to have been somewhat dis- 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 129 
 
 were a certain Messer Giovanni, a Greek of eminent 
 learning, Messer Lodovico of Fane, no less distinguished 
 as a man of letters, Messer Antonio AUegretti, and 
 Messer Annibale Caro,^ at that time in his early man^ 
 hood. Messer Bastiano of Venice, a most excellent 
 painter, and I were admitted to their society; and 
 almost every day we met together in Messer Giovanni's 
 company.^ 
 
 Being aware of this intimacy, the worthy goldsmith 
 Raffaello said to Messer Giovanni : " Good sir, you 
 know me ; now I want to marry my daughter to Ben- 
 venuto, and can think of no better intermediary than 
 your worship. So I am come to crave your assistance, 
 and to beg you to name for her such dowry from my 
 estate as you may think suitable." The light-headed 
 man hardly let my good friend finish what he had to 
 say, before he put in quite at random : " Talk no more 
 abont it, Raffaello ; you are farther from your object 
 than January from mulberries." The poor man, utterly 
 discouraged, looked about at once for another husband 
 for his girl; while she and the mother and all the 
 family lived on in a bad humour with me. Since I did 
 not know the real cause of this — I imagined they were 
 
 agreeable in personal intercourse ; for even Annibale Caro, who owed 
 much to his patronage and lived for many years in his house, never 
 became attached to him. We shall see how he treated Cellini during 
 a fever. 
 
 ^ Some poems of Allegretti's survive. He was a man of mark in the 
 literary society of the age. Giovanni Greco may have been a Giovanni 
 Vergezio, who presented Duke Cosimo with some Greek characters of 
 exquisite finish. Lodovico da Fano is mentioned as an excellent Latin 
 scholar. Annibale Caro was one of the most distinguished writers of 
 Italian prose and verse in the later Renaissance. He spent the latter 
 portion of his life in the service of the Farnesi. 
 
 ^ Messer Bastiano is the celebrated painter Sebastian del Piombo, 
 born 1485, died 1547. 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
130 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 paying me with bastard coin for the many kindnesses 
 I had shown them — I conceived the thought of opening 
 a workshop of my own in their neighbourhood. Messer 
 Giovanni told me nothing till the girl was married, 
 which happened in a few months. 
 
 Meanwhile, I laboured assiduously at the work I 
 was doing for the Pope, and also in the service of the 
 Mint; for his Holiness had ordered another coin, of 
 the value of two carlins, on which his own portrait was 
 stamped, while the reverse bore a figure of Christ upon 
 the waters, holding out his hand to S. Peter, with this 
 inscription Quare dahitasti ? My design won such 
 applause that a certain secretary of the Pope, a man of 
 the greatest talent, called II Sanga,^ was moved to 
 this remark : " Your Holiness can boast of having a 
 currency superior to any of the ancients in all their 
 glory." The Pope replied : " Benvenuto, for his part, 
 can boast of serving an emperor like me, who is able 
 to discern his merit." I went on at my great piece in 
 gold, showing it frequently to the Pope, who was 
 very eager to see it, and each time expressed greater 
 admiration. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 My brother, at this period, was also in Rome, serv- 
 ing Duke Alessandro, on whom the Pope had recently 
 conferred the Duchy of Penna. This prince kept in 
 his service a multitude of soldiers, worthy fellows, 
 brought up to valour in the school of that famous 
 
 1 Battista Sanga, a Roman, secretary to Gianmatteo Giberti, the 
 good Archbishop of Verona, and afterwards to Clement VII. He was 
 a o-reat Latinist, and one of those ecclesiastics who earnestly desired a 
 reform of the Church. He died, poisoned, at an early age. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 131 
 
 general Giovanni de' Medici ; and among these was my 
 brother, whom the Duke esteemed as highly as the 
 bravest of them. One day my brother went after 
 dinner to the shop of a man called Baccino della Croce 
 in the Banchi, which all those men-at-arms frequented. 
 He had flung himself upon a settee, and was sleeping. 
 Just then the guard of the Bargello passed by ; ^ they 
 were taking to prison a certain Captain Cisti, a Lombard, 
 who had also been a member of Giovanni's troop, but 
 was not in the service of the Duke. The captain, 
 Cattivanza degli Strozzi, chanced to be in the same 
 shop ; ^ and when Cisti caught sight of him, he whis- 
 pered : " I was bringing you those crowns I owed ; if 
 you want them, come for them before they go with me 
 to prison." Now Cattivanza had a way of putting his 
 neighbours to the push, not caring to hazard his own 
 person. So, finding there around him several young 
 fellows of the highest daring, more eager than apt for 
 so serious an enterprise, he bade them catch up 
 Captain Cisi and get the money from him, and if the 
 guard resisted, overpower the men, provided they had 
 pluck enough to do so. 
 
 The young men were but four, and all four of them 
 
 ' The Bargello was the chief constable or sheriff in Italian towns. 
 I shall call him Bargello always in my translation, since any English 
 equivalent would be misleading. He did the rough work of policing 
 the city, and was consequently a mark for all the men of spirit who dis- 
 liked being kept in order. Giovio, in his Life of Cardinal Pompeo 
 Colonna, quite gravely relates how it was the highest ambition of young 
 Romans of spirit to murder the Bargello. He mentions, in particular, 
 a certain Pietro Margano, who had acquired great fame and popularity 
 by killing the Bargello of his day, one Cencio, in the Campo di Fiore. 
 This man became an outlaw, and was favourably received by Cardinal 
 Colonna, then at war with Clement VII. 
 
 ^ His baptismal name was Bernardo. Cattivanza was a nickname. 
 He fought bravely for Florence in the siege. 
 
132 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 without a beard. The first was called Bertino Aldo- 
 brandi, another Anguillotto of Lucca ; I cannot recall 
 the names of the rest. Bertino had been trained like 
 a pupil by my brother ; and my brother felt the most 
 unbounded love for him. So then, off dashed the four 
 brave lads, and came up with the guard of the Bargello 
 — upwards of fifty constables, counting pikes, arque- 
 buses, and two-handed swords. After a few words they 
 drew their weapons, and the four boys so harried the 
 guard, that if Captain Cattivanza had but shown his 
 face, without so much as drawing, they would certainly 
 have put the whole pack to flight. But delay spoiled 
 all ; for Bertino received some ugly wounds and fell ; 
 at the same time, Anguillotto was also hit in the right 
 arm, and being unable to use his sword, got out of the 
 fray as well as he was able. The others did the same. 
 Bertino Aldobrandi was lifted from the ground seriously 
 injured. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 While these things were happening, we were all at 
 table ; for that morning we had dined more than an 
 hour later than usual. On hearing the commotion, one 
 of the old man's sons, the elder, rose from table to 
 go and look at the scuffle. He was called Giovanni; 
 and I said to him : " For Heaven's sake, don't go ! 
 In such matters one is always certain to lose, while 
 there is nothing to be gained." His father spoke to 
 like purpose : " Pray, my son, don't go ! " But the 
 lad, without heeding any one, ran down the stairs. 
 Reaching the Banchi, where the great scrimmage was, 
 and seeing Bertino lifted from the ground, he ran 
 towards home, and met my brother Cecchino on the 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 133 
 
 way, who asked what was the matter. Though some 
 of the bystanders signed to Giovanni not to tell Cec- 
 chino, he cried out like a madman how it was that 
 Bertino Aldobrandi had been killed by the guard. My 
 poor brother gave vent to a bellow which might have 
 been heard ten miles away. Then he turned to Gio- 
 vanni : " Ah me ! but could you tell me which of those 
 men killed him for me ? " ^ Giovanni said, yes, that 
 it was a man who had a big two-handed sword, with 
 a blue feather in his bonnet. My poor brother rushed 
 ahead, and having recognised the homicide by those 
 signs, he threw himself with all his dash and spirit 
 into the middle of the band, and before his man could 
 turn on guard, ran him right through the guts, and 
 with the sword's hilt thrust him to the ground. Then 
 he turned upon the rest with such energy and daring, 
 that his one arm was on the point of putting the whole 
 band to flight, had it not been that, while wheeling 
 round to strike an arquebusier, this man fired in self- 
 defence, and hit the brave unfortunate young fellow 
 above the knee of his right leg. While he lay stretched 
 upon the ground, the constables scrambled off in dis- 
 order as fast as they were able, lest a pair to my brother 
 should arrive upon the scene. 
 
 Noticing that the tumult was not subsiding, I too 
 rose from table, and girding on my sword — for every- 
 body wore one then — I went to the bridge of Sant' 
 Agnolo, where I saw a group of several men assembled. 
 Qn my coming up and being recognised by some of 
 them, they gave way before me, and showed me what 
 I least of all things wished to see, albeit I made mighty 
 
 ^ Oime, saprestimi tu dire che di qiielli me Vim rawto ? The me is so 
 emphatic, that, though it makes poor English, I have preserved it in 
 U)y version. 
 
134 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 haste to view tlie sight. On the instant I did not 
 know Cecchino, since he was wearing a different suit 
 of clothes from that in which I had lately seen him. 
 Accordingly, he recognised me first, and said : " Dearest 
 brother, do not be upset by my grave accident ; it is 
 only what might be expected in my profession : get me 
 removed from here at once, for I have but few hours to 
 live." They had acquainted me with the whole event 
 while he was speaking, in brief words befitting such 
 occasion. So I answered : " Brother, this is the greatest 
 sorrow and the greatest trial that could happened to 
 me in the whole course of my life. But be of good 
 cheer; for before you lose sight of him who did the 
 mischief, you shall see yourself revenged by my hand." 
 Our words on both sides were to the purport, but of 
 the shortest. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 The guard was now about fifty paces from us ; for 
 Maffio, their officer, had made some of them turn back to 
 take up the corporal my brother killed. Accordingly, I 
 quickly traversed that short space, wrapped in my cape, 
 which I had tightened round me, and came up with 
 Maffio, whom I should most certainly have murdered, 
 for there were plenty of people round, and I had wound 
 my way among them. With the rapidity of lightning, I 
 had half drawn my sword from the sheath, when 
 Berlinghier Berlinghieri, a young man of the greatest 
 daring and my good friend, threw himself from behind 
 upon my arms ; he had four other fellows of like kidney 
 with him, who cried out to Maffio : " Away with you, 
 for this man here alone was killing you ! " He asked : 
 " Who is he ? " and they answered : " Own brother to 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 13: 
 
 the man you see there." AVithout waiting to hear 
 more, he made haste for Torre di Nona ; ^ and they 
 said : " Benvenuto, we prevented you against your will, 
 but did it for your good ; now let us go to succour him 
 w^ho must die shortly." Accordingly, we turned and 
 went back to my brother, whom I had at once conveyed 
 into a house. The doctors who were called in consul- 
 tation, treated him with medicaments, but could not 
 decide to amputate the leg, which might perhaps have 
 saved him. 
 
 As soon as his wound had been dressed, Duke Ales- 
 sandro appeared and most affectionately greeted him. 
 My brother had not as yet lost consciousness ; so he 
 said to the duke : " My. lord, this only grieves me, that 
 your Excellency is losing a servant than whom you 
 may perchance find men more valiant in the profession 
 of arms, but none more lovingly and loyally devoted to 
 your service than I have been." The Duke bade him 
 do all he could to keep alive ; for the rest, he well 
 knew him to be a man of worth and courage. He then 
 turned to his attendants, ordering them to see that the 
 brave young fellow wanted for nothing. 
 
 When he was gone, my brother lost blood so copi- 
 ously, for nothing could be done to stop it, that he 
 went off his head, and kept raving all the following 
 night, with the exception that ouce, when they wanted 
 to give him the communion, he said : " You would 
 have done well to confess me before ; now it is im- 
 possible that I should receive the divine sacrament in 
 this already ruined frame ; it will be enough if I partake 
 of it by the divine virtue of the eyesight, whereby it 
 shall be transmitted into my immortal soul, which only 
 
 ^ The Torre di Nona was one of the principal prisons in Rome, used 
 especially for criminals condemned to death. 
 
136 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 prays to Him for mercy and forgiveness." Having 
 spoken thus, the host was elevated ; but he straightway 
 relapsed into the same delirous ravings as before, pour- 
 ing forth a torrent of the most terrible frenzies and 
 horrible imprecations that the mind of man could 
 imagine ; nor did he cease once all that night until the 
 day broke. 
 
 When the sun appeared above our horizon, he turned 
 to me and said : " Brother, I do not wish to stay here 
 longer, for these fellows will end by making me do 
 something tremendous, which may cause them to re- 
 pent of the annoyance they have given me." Then he 
 kicked out both his legs — the injured limb we had 
 enclosed in a very heavy box — and made as though he 
 would fling it across a horse's back. Turning his face 
 round to me, he called out thrice — " Fai-ewell, fare- 
 well ! " and with the last word that most valiant spirit 
 passed away. 
 
 At the proper hour, toward nightfall, I had him 
 buried with due ceremony in the church of the Floren- 
 tines ; and afterwards I erected to his memory a very 
 handsome monument of marble, upon which I caused 
 trophies and banners to be carved. I must not omit to 
 mention that one of his friends had asked him who the 
 man was that had killed him, and if he could recognise 
 him ; to which he answered that he could, and gave his 
 description. My brother, indeed, attempted to prevent 
 this coming to my ears ; but I got it very well im- 
 pressed upon my mind, as will appear in the sequel.^ 
 
 ^ Varchi, in his Storia Fiorentina, lib. xi., gives a short account of 
 Cecchino Cellini's death in Rome, mentioning also Bertino Aldobrandi, 
 in the attempt to revenge whom he lost his life. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 137 
 
 Returning to the monument, I should relate that 
 certain famous men of letters, who knew my brother, 
 composed for me an epitaph, telling me that the noble 
 young man deserved it. The inscription ran thus : — 
 
 ^^ Francisco Cellino Florentino, qui quod in teneris annis ad 
 loannem Medicem ducem phcres victorias retulit et signifer fuit, 
 facile documentwn dedit quantce fortitudinis et consilii vir futurus 
 erat, ni crudelis fati archibuso transfossus, quinto cetatis lustrojacerei, 
 Benvenutus f rater posuit. Obiit die :s.x.Yn Maii MD.XXIX." 
 
 He was twenty- five years of age; and since the 
 soldiers called him Cecchino del Piffero,^ his real name 
 being Giovanfrancesco Cellini, I wanted to engrave the 
 former, by which he was commonly known, under the 
 armorial bearings of our family. This name then I 
 had cut in fine antique characters, all of which were 
 broken save the first and last. I was asked by the 
 learned men who had composed that beautiful epitaph, 
 wherefore I used these broken letters ; and my answer 
 was, because the marvellous framework of his body was 
 spoiled and dead ; and the reason why the first and last 
 remained entire was, that the first should symbolise the 
 great gift God had given him, namely, of a human soul, 
 inflamed with his divinity, the which hath never broken, 
 while the second represented the glorious renown of his 
 brave actions. The thought gave satisfaction, and 
 several persons have since availed themselves of my 
 device. Close to the name I had the coat of us Cellini 
 carved upon the stone, altering it in some particulars. 
 In Ravenna, which is a most ancient city, there exist 
 
 ^ That is, Frank, the Fifer's son. 
 
138 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 Cellini of our name in the quality of very honourable 
 gentry, wlio bear a lion rampant or upon a field of 
 azure, holding a lily gules in his dexter paw, with a 
 label in chief and three little lilies or.^ These are the 
 true arms of the Cellini. My father showed me a 
 shield as ours which had the paw only, together with 
 the other bearings ; but I should prefer to follow those 
 of the Cellini of Ravenna, which I have described above. 
 Now to return to what I caused to be engraved upon 
 my brother's tomb : it was the lion's paw, but instead 
 of a lily, I made the lion hold an axe, with the field of 
 the scutcheon quartered ; and I put the axe in solely 
 that I mig'ht not be unmindful to reveng-e him. 
 
 LT. 
 
 I went on applying myself with the utmost diligence 
 upon the gold-work for Pope Clement's button. He 
 was very eager to have it, and used to send for me two 
 or three times a week, in order to inspect it ; and his 
 delight in the work always increased. Often would 
 he rebuke and scold me, as it were, for the great grief 
 in which my brother's loss had plunged me ; and one 
 day, observing me more downcast and out of trim than 
 was proper, he cried aloud : " Benvenuto, oh ! I did 
 not know that you were mad. Have you only just 
 learned that there is no remedy against death ? One 
 would think that you were trying to run after him." 
 When I left the presence, I continued working at the 
 
 ^ I believe Cellini meant here to write "on a chief argent a label of 
 four points, and three lilies gules." He has tricked the arms thus in a 
 MS. of the Palatine Library. See Leclanch^, p. 103, see also Piatti, 
 vol. i. p. 233, and Plon, p. 2. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 139 
 
 jewel and the dies 1 for the Mint ; but I also took to 
 watching the arquebusier who shot my brother, as 
 though he had been a girl I was in love with. The 
 man had formerly been in the light cavalry, but after- 
 wards had joined the arquebusiers as one of the Bar- 
 gello's corporals ; and what increased my rage was 
 that he had used these boastful words : " If it had not 
 been for me, who killed that brave young man, the least 
 trifle of delay would have resulted in bis putting us all 
 to flight with great disaster." When I saw that the 
 fever caused by always seeing him about was depriving 
 me of sleep and appetite, and was bringing me by 
 degrees to sorry plight, I overcame my repugnance to 
 so low and not quite praiseworthy an enterprise, and 
 made my mind up one evening to rid myself of the 
 torment. The fellow lived in a house near a place 
 called Torre Sanguigua, nest door to the lodging of 
 one of the most fashionable courtesans in Eome, named 
 Signora Antea. It had just struck twenty-four, and 
 he was standing at the house-door, with his sword in 
 hand, having risen from supper. With great address 
 I stole up to him, holding a large Pistojan dagger,'^ and 
 dealt him a back-handed stroke, with which I meant 
 to cut his head clean off"; but as he turned round very 
 suddenly, the blow fell upon the point of his left 
 shoulder and broke the bone. He sprang up, dropped 
 his sword, half-stunned with the great pain, and took 
 to flight. I followed after, and in four steps caught 
 him up, when I lifted my dagger above his head, which 
 he was holding very low, and hit him in the back 
 exactly at the juncture of the nape-bone and the neck. 
 
 ^ Ferri. I have translated this word dies ; but it seems to mean all 
 the coining instruments, stampe or conii being the dies proper. 
 2 Pugnal pistolese : it came in time to mean a cutlass. 
 
140 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 The poniard entered this point so deep into the bone, 
 that, though I used all my strength to pull it out, I 
 was not able. For just at that moment four soldiers 
 with drawn swords sprang out from Antea's lodging, 
 and obliged me to set hand to my own sword to defend 
 my life. Leaving the poniard then, I made off, and 
 fearing I might be recognised, took refuge in the 
 palace of Duke Alessandro, which was between Piazza 
 Navona and the Eotunda.^ On my arrival, I asked to 
 see the Duke ; who told me that, if I was alone, I need 
 only keep quiet and have no further anxiety, but go 
 on working at the jewel which the Pope had set his 
 heart on, and stay eight days indoors. He gave this 
 advice the more securely, because the soldiers had now 
 arrived who interrupted the completion of my deed ; 
 they held the dagger in their hand, and were relating 
 how the matter happened, and the great trouble they 
 had to pull the weapon from the neck and head-bone 
 of the man, whose name they did not know. Just then 
 Giovan Bandini came up, and said to them : ^ " That 
 poniard is mine, and I lent it to Benvenuto, who was 
 bent on revenging his brother." The soldiers were 
 profuse in their expressions of regret at having inter- 
 rupted me, although my vengeance had been amply 
 satisfied. 
 
 More than eight days elapsed, and the Pope did not 
 send for me according to his custom. Afterwards he 
 
 ^ That is, the Pantheon. 
 
 - 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 embassy 
 to Charles V. in 1543. It seems that he had then been playing into 
 the hands of Filippo Strozzi, for which offence he passed fifteen years 
 in a dungeon. See Varchi and Segni ; also Montazio's Pritjionieri del 
 Mastio di Volterra, cap. vii. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 141 
 
 summoned me through his chamberlain, the Bolognese 
 nobleman I have already mentioned, who let me, in his 
 own modest manner, understand that his Holiness 
 knew all, but was very well inclined toward me, and 
 that I had only to mind my work and keep quiet. 
 When we reached the presence, the Pope cast so 
 menacing a glance towards me, that the mere look of 
 his eyes made me tremble. Afterwards, upon examin- 
 ing my work, his countenance cleared, and he began 
 to praise me beyond measure, saying that I had done 
 a vast amount in a short time. Then, looking me 
 straight in the face, he added : " Now that you are 
 cured, Benvenuto, take heed how you live." ^ I, 
 who understood his meaning, promised that I would. 
 Immediately upon this, I opened a very fine shop in 
 the Banchi, opposite RafFaello, and there I finished 
 the jewel after the lapse of a few months. 
 
 Lll. 
 
 The Pope had sent me all those precious stones, 
 except the diamond, which was pawned 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 journey- 
 men, 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 shaggy 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 
 
 ^ This was the Pope's hint to Cellini that he was aware of the murder 
 he had just committed. 
 
142 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 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 passage with the maid's bedroom. I used fre- 
 quently to pass the night with her ; and though I sleep 
 as lightly as ever yet did man upon this earth, yet, 
 after indulgence in sexual 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 quantity 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 bedclothes 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 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 143 
 
 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 God'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 fellows 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 God, 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 
 
 AattttiiailiiiJiiiil 
 
144 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 pain, and made me lose my senses, and take fright — so 
 contrary to my real nature — was the dread lest per- 
 ad vent are folk should fancy I had trumped a story of 
 the robber up to steal the jewels. It had already been 
 said to Pope Clement by one of his most trusted ser- 
 vants, and by others, that is, by Francesco del Nero, 
 Zana de' Biliotti his accountant, the Bishop of Vasona, 
 and several such men : ^ " Why most blessed Father, 
 do you confide gems of that vast value to a young 
 fellow, who is all fire, more passionate 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 : ^ " No, most 
 blessed Father, because he has not as yet had an oppor- 
 tunity." 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^ 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 
 
 ^ 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 Tommaso Cortesi, the Datary, mentioned above. 
 
 ^ Varchi gives a very ugly account of this man, Francesco del Nerc, 
 who was nicknamed the Crd 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 iireligion or of such sordid avarice." Giovio con- 
 firms the statement. 
 
 ■^ Questofu qucUo die. This may be neuter : Tlds was the circum- 
 stance which. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 M5 
 
 places, and went off at once with tliem 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 other- 
 wise 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." 
 
 LIII. 
 
 I went on working assiduously at the button, 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 
 God, most blessed Father, that it may turn out as you 
 say ; for we have some proofs against him." Upon this 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
146 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 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 conver- 
 sation 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 practise 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 com- 
 fortably ; for when I set dies for the Mint, each morn- 
 ing 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 God'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 ofiicials 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.i 
 
 ^ The word in Cellini is ovolatore di xecca. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 147 
 
 LIV. 
 
 On that very day as I was passing 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 Cara- 
 dosso), 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 Don- 
 nino had not evidence enough to support the accusa- 
 tion ; 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 circumstances, 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 pro- 
 perty. 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 
 
148 
 
 LIFE OF BEN VENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 more to me for pity. I told him to make his peace 
 with God, for I should do him neither good nor evil. 
 So I returned to my business ; and a few days after- 
 wards, 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. 
 
 LY. 
 
 When I had nearly finished my piece, there happened 
 that terrible inundation which flooded the whole of 
 Eome.^ 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 God's 
 grace and my own great industry, that it was held to 
 \ This took place on the 8th and 9th October 1530. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 149 
 
 be the finest masterpiece whicli had been ever seen in 
 Rome.^ 
 
 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,^ 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-bearer's 
 to be exempted. He would allow them through me a 
 certain favour, for which they had already petitioned, 
 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 two hundred crowns a 
 year.3 
 
 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 
 
 ^ This famous masterpiece was preserved in the Castle of S. Angelo 
 during the Papal Government of Rome. It was brought out on Christ- 
 mas, Easter, and S. Peter's days. 
 
 2 Quella sua smania di parole. 
 
 ^ 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. 
 
LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 drawing and model for the piece. The latter was con- 
 structed 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 termi- 
 nation of the last piece, said to me : " That post in the 
 Piombo is worth more than eight hundred crowns a 
 year, so that if I gave it you, you would spend your 
 time in scratching your paunch,^ 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 
 nobler 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 
 
 ^ G r attar e il cor po, which I have translated scratch your paunch, is 
 equivalent to twirl your thumbs. 
 
BOOK FIEST. 
 
 ^51 
 
 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's own words. 
 Follow the example of Pope Giulio's illustrious 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 assiduously 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 gave the place to this ingenious person 
 Bastiano. Some time or other you will be able to 
 bestow on Benvenuto a good thing, perhaps more suit- 
 able to him than this would be." Then the Pope, turn- 
 ing 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." ^ 
 
 ' 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 Seb.astiano del 
 
152 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 The following evening, two hours after sundown, 
 I met Messer Bartolommeo Yalori^ at the corner ot 
 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 ray 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 auda- 
 cious 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.^ That right worthy 
 fellow came daily to visit me, and always gave me some 
 
 Piombo. When the latter obtained it, he neglected his art and gave 
 himself up to "scratching his paunch," as Cellini predicted. 
 
 1 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. 
 
 2 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 1524. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 153 
 
 kindly word, wliich I returned. The time was drawing 
 nigh now for the Pope to travel toward Bologna ; ^ 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, goon 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. 
 
 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 ? ^ 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 
 
 ^ On November 18, 1532, Clement went to meet Charles V. at 
 Bologna, where, in 1529, he had already given him the Imperial crown. 
 
 ^ Cipollata. Literally, a show of onions and pumpkins ; metaphori- 
 cally, a mess, gallimaufry. 
 
 .__^_|^__g|W||g| 
 
154 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI, 
 
 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 ^ to go on with your labour." The bestial 
 manners of the man made me a beast too ; and I re- 
 torted : '' 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. 
 
 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 
 
 ^ Aral di grazia di. I am not sure whether I have given the right 
 shade of meaning in the text above. It may mean : You tvill be per- 
 mitted. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 15: 
 
 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 embarrassments. However, I was 
 unable to do so ; for when I arrived in the presence, he 
 broke out coarsely at me : " Come here with your work ; 
 is it finished ? " I displayed it ; and his temper rising, 
 he exclaimed : " In God'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 infirmity has blinded me, am I bound to go on work- 
 
 ing 
 
 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 
 
156 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 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's 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 
 passion I felt my face inflame, 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's 
 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 had 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. ^ 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 compassion : so I beg your Holi- 
 ness 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 
 
 ^ Che mettessi tanta mazza. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 157 
 
 own craft ; one day, when we are togetlier, I will show 
 you some of his marvellous works, and the man him- 
 self to boot ; and I shall be pleased if we can see our 
 way toward doing something to assist him." Three 
 days after this, the Pope sent for me after dinner-time, 
 and I found that great noble in the presence. On my 
 arrival, the Pope had my cope-button brought, and I 
 in the meantime drew forth my chalice. The nobleman 
 said, on look at it, that he had never seen a more stu- 
 pendous piece of work. When the button 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. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 It was true indeed that I had got the sickness ; but 
 I believe I caught it from that fine young servant-girl 
 whom I was keeping when my house was robbed. The 
 French disease, for it was that, remained in me more 
 than four months dormant before it showed itself, and 
 then it broke out over my whole body at one instant. 
 It was not like what one commonly observes, but 
 covered my flesh with certain blisters, of the size of 
 
158 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 sixpences, and rose-coloured. The doctors would not 
 call it the French disease, albeit I told them why I 
 thought it was that, I went on treating myself accord- 
 ing to their methods, but derived no benefit. At last, 
 then, I resolved on taking the wood, against the advice 
 of the first physicians in Eonie ; ^ and I took it with 
 the most scrupulous discipline and rules of abstinence 
 that could be thought of; and after a few days, I per- 
 ceived in me a great amendment. The result was that 
 at the end of fifty days I was cured and as sound as a 
 fish in the water. 
 
 Some time afterwards I sought to mend my shattered 
 health, and with this view I betook myself to shooting 
 when the winter came in. That amusement, however, 
 led me to expose myself to wind and water, and to 
 staying out in marsh-lands ; so that, after a few days, 
 I fell a hundred times more ill than I had been before. 
 I put myself once more under doctors' orders, and 
 attended to their directions, but grew always worse. 
 When the fever fell upon me, I resolved on having 
 recourse again to the wood ; but the doctors forbade it, 
 saying that if I took it with the fever on me, I should 
 not have a week to live. However, I made my mind 
 up to disobey their orders, observed the same diet as I 
 had formerly adopted, and after drinking the decoction 
 four days, was wholly rid of fever. My health improved 
 enormously ; and while I was following this cure, I went 
 on always working at the models of the chalice. I 
 may add that, during the time of that strict abstinence, 
 I produced finer things and of more exquisite invention 
 than at any other period of my life. After fifty days 
 my health was re-established, and I continued with the 
 utmost care to keep it and confirm it. When at last 
 
 ^ That is, Guiacum, called by the Italians legno santo. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 159 
 
 I ventured to relax my rigid diet, I found myself as 
 wholly free from, those infirmities as though I had been 
 born again. Although I took pleasure in fortifying the 
 health I so much longed for, yet I never left off work- 
 ing; both the chalice and the Mint had certainly as 
 much of my attention as was due to them and to 
 myself. 
 
 LX. 
 
 It happened that Cardinal Salviati, who, as I have 
 related, entertained an old hostility against me, had 
 been appointed Legate to Parma. In that city a certain 
 Milanese goldsmith, named Tobbia, was taken up for 
 false coining, and condemned to the gallows and the 
 stake. Representations in his favour, as being a man 
 of great ability, were made to the Cardinal, who sus- 
 pended the execution of the sentence, and wrote to the 
 Pope, saying the best goldsmith in the world had come 
 into his hands, sentenced to death for coining false 
 money, but that he was a good simple fellow, who could 
 plead in his excuse that he had taken counsel with his 
 confessor, and had received, as he said, from him permis- 
 sion to do this. Thereto he added : " If you send for 
 this great artist to Rome, your Holiness will bring down 
 the overweening arrogance of your favourite Benvenuto, 
 and I am quite certain that Tobbia's work will please 
 you far more than his." The Pope accordingly sent for 
 him at once ; and when the man arrived, he made us 
 both appear before him, and commissioned each of us 
 to furnish a design for mounting an unicorn's horn, the 
 finest which had ever been seen, and which had been 
 sold for 17,000 ducats of the Camera. The Pope meant 
 to give it to King Francis ; but first he wished it richly 
 
 MliiiMiiiiliiiilliiii 
 
i6o 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 set in gold, and ordered us to make sketches for this 
 purpose. When they were finished, we took them to 
 the Pope. That of Tobbia was in the form of a candle- 
 stick, the horn being stuck in it like a candle, and at 
 the base of the piece he had introduced four little 
 unicorns' heads of a very poor design. When I saw the 
 thing, I could not refrain from laughing gently in my 
 sleeve. The Pope noticed this, and cried : " Here, show 
 me your sketch ! " It was a single unicorn's head, 
 proportioned in size to the horn. I had designed the 
 finest head imaginable ; for I took it partly from the 
 horse and partly from the stag, enriching it with 
 fantastic mane and other ornaments. Accordingly, no 
 sooner was it seen, than every one decided in my favour. 
 There were, however, present at the competition certain 
 Milanese gentlemen of the first consequence, who said : 
 "Most blessed Father, your Holiness is sending this 
 magnificent present into France ; please to reflect that 
 the French are people of no culture, and will not under- 
 stand the excellence of Benvenuto's work ; pyxes like 
 this one of Tobbia's will suit their taste well, and these 
 too can be finished quicker.^ Benvenuto will devote 
 himself to completing your chalice, and you will get 
 two pieces done in the same time ; moreover, this poor 
 man, whom you have brought to Kome, will have the 
 chance to be employed." The Pope, who was anxious 
 to obtain his chalice, very willingly adopted the advice 
 of the Milanese gentlefolk. 
 
 Next day, therefore, he commissioned Tobbia to 
 mount the unicorn's horn, and sent his Master of the 
 Wardrobe to bid me finish the chalice.^ I replied that 
 
 ^ The word I have translated pyxes is cihorii, vessels for holding the 
 Eucharist. 
 
 ^ The Master of the Wardrobe was at that time Giovanni Aleotti. I 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 i6i 
 
 I desired nothing in the world more than to complete 
 the beautiful work I had begun : and if the material 
 had been anything but gold, I could very easily have 
 done so by myself; but it being gold, his Holiness must 
 give me some of the metal if he wanted me to get 
 through with my work. To this the vulgar courtier 
 answered : " Zounds! don't ask the Pope for gold, unless, 
 you mean to drive him into such a fury as will ruin 
 you." I said : " Oh, my good lord, will your lordship 
 please to tell me how one can make bread without 
 Hour ? Even so without gold this piece of mine cannot 
 be finished." The Master of the Wardrobe, having an 
 inkling that I had made a fool of him, told me he 
 should report all I had spoken to his Holiness ; and this 
 he did. The Pope flew into a bestial passion, and swore 
 he would wait to see if I was so mad as not to finish it. 
 More than two months passed thus ; and though I had 
 declared I would not give a stroke to the chalice, I did 
 not do so, but always went on working with the greatest 
 interest. When he perceived I was not going to bring 
 it, he began to display real displeasure, and protested 
 he would punish me in one way or another. 
 
 A jeweller from Milan in the Papal service happened 
 to be present when these words were spoken. He was 
 called Pompeo, and was closely related to Messer 
 Trajano, the most favoured servant of Pope Clement. 
 The two men came, upon a common understanding, to 
 him and said : " If your Holiness were to deprive 
 Benvenuto of the Mint, perhaps he would take it into 
 his head to complete the chalice." To this the Pope 
 
 need hardly remind my readers that Guardaroba or wardrobe was the 
 apartment in a palace where arms, plate, furniture, and clothes were 
 stored. We shall find, when we come to Cellini's service under Duke 
 Cosimo, that princes spent much of their time in this place. 
 VOL. I. L 
 
l62 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 answered : '• No ; two evil things would happen : first, 
 I should be ill served in the Mint, which concerns me 
 greatly ; and secondly, I should certainly not get the 
 chalice." The two Milanese, observing the Pope indis- 
 posed towards me, at last so far prevailed that he 
 deprived me of the Mint, and gave it to a young 
 Perugian, commonly known as Fagiuolo.'^ Pompeo 
 came to inform me that his Holiness had taken my 
 place in the Mint away, and that if I did not finish the 
 chalice, he would deprive me of other things besides. 
 I retorted : " Tell his Holiness that he has deprived 
 himself and not me of the Mint, and that he will be 
 doing the same with regard to those other things of 
 which he speaks ; and that if he wants to confer the 
 post on me again, nothing will induce me to accept it." 
 The graceless and unlucky fellow went off like an arrow 
 to find the Pope and report this conversation ; he added 
 also something of his own invention. Eight days later, 
 the Pope sent the same man to tell me that he did 
 not mean me to finish the chalice, and wanted to have 
 it back precisely at the point to which I had already 
 brought it. I told Pompeo : " This thing is not like 
 the Mint, which it was in his power to take away ; but 
 five hundred crowns which I received belong to his 
 Holiness, and I am ready to return them ; the piece 
 itself is mine, and with it I shall do what I think best." 
 Pompeo ran off to report my speech, together with 
 some biting words which in my righteous anger I had 
 let fly at himself. 
 
 ^ Vasari mentions a Girolamo Fagiuoli, who floui'ished at this period, 
 but calls him a Bolognese. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 163 
 
 LXI. 
 
 After the lapse of three days, on a Thursday, there 
 came to me two favourite Chamberlains of his Holi- 
 ness ; one of them is alive now, and a bishop ; he was 
 called Messer Pier Giovanni, and was an officer of the 
 wardrobe ; the other could claim nobler birth, but his 
 name has escaped me. On arriving they spoke as 
 follows : " The Pope has sent us, Benvenuto ; and since 
 you have not chosen to comply with his request on easy 
 terms, his commands now are that either you should 
 give us up his piece, or that we should take you to 
 prison." Thereupon I looked them very cheerfully in 
 the face, replying : " My lords, if I were to give the 
 work to his Holiness, I should be giving what is mine 
 and not his, and at present I have no intention to make 
 him this gift. I have brought it far forward with great 
 labour, and do not want it to go into the hands of some 
 ignorant beast who will destroy it with no trouble." 
 While I spoke thus, the goldsmith Tobbia was standing 
 by, who even presumptuously asked me for the models 
 also of my work. "What I retorted, in words worthy of 
 such a rascal, need not here be repeated. Then, when 
 those gentlemen, the Chamberlains, kept urging me to 
 do quickly what I meant to do, I told them I was 
 ready. So I took my cape up, and before I left the 
 shop, I turned to an image of Christ, with solemn 
 reverence and cap in hand, praying as thus : " 
 gracious and undying, just and holy our Lord, all the 
 things thou doest are according to thy justice, which 
 hath no peer on earth. Thou knowest that I have 
 exactly reached the age of thirty, and that up to this 
 hour I was never threatened with a prison for any of 
 
164 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 my actions. Now that it is thy will that I should go to 
 prison, with all my heart I thank thee for this dispen- 
 sation." Thereat I turned round to the two Chamber- 
 lains, and addressed thera with a certain lowering look 
 I have : " A man of my quality deserved no meaner 
 catchpoles than your lordships : place me between 
 you, and take me as your prisoner where you like." 
 Those two gentlemen, with the most perfect manners, 
 burst out laughing, and put me between them ; and so 
 we went off, talking pleasantly, until they brought me 
 to the Governor of Rome, who was called II Magalotto.^ 
 When I reached hirh (and the Procurator-Fiscal was 
 with him, both waiting for me), the Pope's Chamberlains, 
 still laughing, said to the Governor : " We give up to 
 you this prisoner ; now see you take good care of him. 
 We are very glad to have acted in the place of your 
 agents ; for Benvenuto has told us that this being his 
 first arrest, he deserved no catchpoles of inferior station 
 than we are." Immediately on leaving us, they sought 
 the Pope ; and when they had minutely related the 
 whole matter, he made at first as though he would give 
 way to passion, but afterwards he put control upon 
 himself and laughed, because there were then in the 
 presence certain lords and cardinals, my friends, who 
 had warmly espoused my cause. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Governor and the Fiscal were at me, 
 partly bullying, partly expostulating, partly giving 
 advice, and saying it was only reason that a man who 
 ordered work from another should be able to withdraw 
 it at his choice, and in any way which he thought 
 best. To this I replied that such proceedings were not 
 
 ^ Gregorio Magalotti was a Roman. The Procurator- Fiscal ^Jvas then 
 Benedetto Valenti. Magalotti is said to have discharged his office with 
 extreme severity, and to have run great risks of his life in consequence. 
 
BOOK FIEST. 
 
 i6s 
 
 warranted by justice, neither could a Pope act thus; 
 for that a Pope is not of the same kind as certain petty 
 tyrant princes, who treat their folk as badly as they 
 can, without regard to law or justice; and so a Vicar 
 of Christ may not commit any of these acts of violence. 
 Thereat the Governor, assuming his police-court style 
 of threatening and bullying, began to say : " Benvenuto, 
 Benvenuto, you are going about to make me treat you 
 as you deserve." " You will treat me with honour and 
 courtesy, if you wish to act as I deserve." Taking me 
 np again, he cried : " Send for the work at once, and 
 don't wait for a second order." I responded : " My 
 lords, grant me the favour of being allowed to say fonr 
 more words in my defence." The Fiscal, who was a 
 far more reasonable agent of police than the Governor, 
 turned to him and said : " Monsignor, suppose we let 
 him say a hundred words, if he likes : so long as he 
 gives up the work, that is enough for us." I spoke : 
 " If any man you like to name had ordered a palace or 
 a house to be built, he could with justice tell the 
 master-mason : ' I do not want you to go on working 
 at my house or palace ; ' and after paying him his 
 labour, he would have the right to dismiss him. Like- 
 wise, if a nobleman gave commission for a jewel of a 
 thousand crowns' value to be set, when he saw that the 
 jeweller was not serving him according to his desire, 
 he could say : ' Give me back my stone, for I do not 
 want your work.' But in a case of this kind none of 
 those considerations apply ; there is neither house nor 
 jewel here ; nobody can command me further than that 
 I should return the five hundred crowns which I have 
 had. Therefore, monsignori, do everything you can 
 do ; for you will get nothing from me beyond the five 
 hundred crowns. Go and say this to the Pope. Your 
 
 ■ V^ JlKr^. «N 
 
 . An fit •■■■ ^ A-.ii' >*. •'*'^, ■ i- ■«■->,> -^. 
 
 
1 66 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 threats do not frigliten me at all ; for I am an honest 
 man, and stand in no fear of my sins." The Governor 
 and Fiscal rose, and said they were going to the Pope, 
 and should return with orders which I should soon learn 
 to my cost. So I remained there under guard. I 
 walked up and down a large hall, and they were about 
 three hours away before they came back from the Pope. 
 In that while the flower of our nation among the mer- 
 chants came to visit me, imploring me not to persist in 
 contending with a Pope, for this might be the ruin of 
 me. I answered them that I had made my mind up 
 quite well what I wished to do. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 No sooner had the Governor returned, together with 
 the Procurator, from the palace, than he sent for me, 
 and spoke to this effect : " Benvenuto, I am certainly 
 sorry to come back from the Pope with such commands 
 as I have received; you must either produce the chalice 
 on the instant, or look to your affairs." Then I replied 
 that " inasmuch as I had never to that hour believed a 
 holy Vicar of Christ could commit an unjust act, so I 
 should like to see it before I did believe it ; therefore do 
 the utmost that you can." The Governor rejoined : " I 
 have to report a couple of words more from the Pope to 
 you, and then I will execute the orders given me. He 
 says that you must bring your work to me here, and 
 that after I have seen it put into a box and sealed, I 
 must take it to him. He engages his word not to 
 break the seal, and to return the piece to you untouched. 
 But this much he wants to have done, in order to pre- 
 serve his own honour in the affair," In return to this 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 167 
 
 speech, I answered, laughing, that I would very will- 
 ingly give up my work in the way he mentioned, because 
 I should be glad to know for certain what a Pope's word 
 was really worth. 
 
 Accordingly, I sent for my piece, and having had it 
 sealed as described, gave it up to him. The Governor 
 repaired again to the Pope, who took the box, according 
 to what the Governor himself told me, and turned it 
 several times about. Then he asked the Governor if 
 he had seen the work ; and he replied that he had, and 
 that it had been sealed up in his presence, and added 
 that it had struck him as a very admirable piece. 
 Thereupon the Pope said : " You shall tell Benvenuto 
 that Popes have authority to bind and loose things of 
 far greater consequence than this ; " and while thus 
 speaking he opened the box with some show of anger, 
 taking off the string and seals with which it was done 
 up. Afterwards he paid it prolonged attention; and, 
 as I subsequently heard, showed it to Tobbia the gold- 
 smith, who bestowed much praise upon it. Then the 
 Pope asked him if he felt equal to producing a piece in 
 that style. On his saying yes, the Pope told him to 
 follow it out exactljT- ; then turned to the Governor 
 and said : " See whether Benvenuto will give it up ; 
 for if he does, he shall be paid the value fixed on it by 
 men of knowledge in this art ; but if he is really bent 
 on finishing it himself, let him name a certain time ; 
 and if you are convinced that he means to do it, let 
 him have all the reasonable accommodations he may 
 ask for." The Governor replied: "Most blessed Father, 
 I know the violent temper of this young man ; so let me 
 have authority to give him a sound rating after my own 
 fashion." The Pope told him to do what he liked with 
 words, though he was sure he would make matters worse; 
 
1 68 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 and if at last he could do nothing else, he must order me 
 to take the five hundred crowns to his jeweller, Pompeo. 
 The Governor returned, sent for me into his cabinet, 
 and casting one of his catchpole's glances, began to 
 speak as follows : " Popes have authority to loose and 
 bind the whole world, and what they do is immediately 
 ratified in heaven. Behold your box, then, which has 
 been opened and inspected by his Holiness." I lifted 
 up my voice at once, and said : " I thank God that now 
 I have learned and can report what the faith of Popes 
 is made of" Then the Governor launched out into 
 brutal bullying words and gestures ; but perceiving 
 that they came to nothing, he gave up his attempt as 
 desperate, and spoke in somewhat milder tones after 
 this wise : " Benvenuto, I am very sorry that you are 
 BO blind to your own interest ; but since it is so, go 
 and take the five hundred crowns, when you think fit, 
 to Pompeo." I took my piece up, went away, and 
 carried the crowns to Pompeo on the instant. It is 
 most likely that the Pope had counted on some want 
 of money or other opportunity preventing me from 
 bringing so considerable a sum at once, and was anxious 
 in this way to repiece the broken thread of my obedi- 
 ence. When then he saw Pompeo coming to him with 
 a smile upon his lips and the money in his hand, he 
 soundly rated him, and lamented that the affair had 
 turned out so. Then he said : " Go find Benvenuto in 
 his shop, and treat him with all the courtesies of which 
 your ignorant and brutal nature is capable, and tell him 
 that if he is willing to finish that piece for a reliquary 
 to hold the Corpus Domini when I walk in procession, 
 I will allow him the conveniences he wants in order to 
 complete it ; provided only that he goes on working." 
 Pompeo came to me, called me outside the shop, and 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 169 
 
 heaped on me the most mawkish caresses of a donkey,^ 
 reporting everything the Pope had ordered. I lost no 
 time in answering that " the greatest treasure I could 
 wish for in the world was to regain the favour of so 
 great a Pope,*which had been lost to me, not indeed 
 by my fault, but by the fault of my overwhelming ill- 
 ness and the wickedness of those envious men who take 
 pleasure in making mischief; and since the Pope has 
 plenty of servants, do not let him send you round again, 
 if you value your life . . . nay, look well to your safety. 
 I shall not fail, by night or day, to think and do every- 
 thing I can in the Pope's service ; and bear this well in 
 mind, that when you have reported these words to his 
 Holiness, you never in any way whatever meddle with 
 the least of my affairs, for I will make you recognise 
 your errors by the punishment they merit." The fellow 
 related everything to the Pope, but in far more brutal 
 terms than I had used ; and thus the matter rested for a 
 time, while I again attended to my shop and business. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 Tobbia the goldsmith meanwhile worked at the 
 setting and the decoration of the unicorn's horn. The 
 Pope, moreover, commissioned him to begin the chalice 
 upon the model he had seen in . mine. But when 
 Tobbia came to show him what he had done, he was 
 very discontented, and greatly regretted that he had 
 broken with me, blaming all the other man's works 
 and the people who had introduced them to him ; and 
 several times Baccino della Oroce came from him to 
 tell me that I must not neglect the reliquary. I 
 answered that I begged his Holiness to let me breathe 
 
 ^ Le p'lu isvenevole carezze d'asino. 
 
I70 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 a little after the great illness I had suffered, and from 
 which I was not as yet wholly free, adding that I 
 would make it clear to him that all the hours in which 
 I could work should be spent in his service. I had 
 indeed begun to make his portrait, and was executing 
 a medal in secret. I fashioned the steel dies for 
 stamping this medal in my own house ; while I kept 
 a partner in my workshop, who had been my prentice 
 and was called Felice. 
 
 At that time, as is the wont of young men, I had 
 fallen in love with a Sicilian girl, who was exceedingly 
 beautiful. On it becoming clear that she returned my 
 affection, her mother perceived how the matter stood, 
 and grew suspicious of what might happen. The 
 truth is that I had arranged to elope with the girl 
 for a year to Florence, unknown to her mother; but 
 she, getting wind of this, left Rome secretly one night, 
 and went off in the direction of Naples. She gave 
 out that she was gone by Civitk Vecchia, but she 
 really went by Ostia. I followed them to Civit^ 
 Vecchia, and did a multitude of mad things to dis- 
 cover her. It would be too long to narrate them all 
 in detail ; enough that I was on the point of losing 
 my wits or dying. After two months she wrote to me 
 that she was in Sicily, extremely unhappy. I mean- 
 while was indulging myself in all the pleasures man 
 can think of, and had engaged in another love affair, 
 merely to drown the memory of my real passion. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 It happened through a variety of singular accidents 
 that I became intimate with a vSicilian priest, who 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 171 
 
 was a man of very elevated genius and well instructed 
 in both Latin and Greek letters. In the course of 
 conversation one day we were led to talk about the 
 art of necromancy ; apropos of which I said : " Through- 
 out my whole life I have had the most intense desire 
 to see or learn something of this art." Thereto the 
 priest replied : " A stout soul and a steadfast must the 
 man have who sets himself to such an enterprise." 
 I answered that of strength and steadfastness of soul 
 I should have enough and to spare, provided I found 
 the opportunity. Then the priest said : "If you have 
 the heart to dare it, I will amply satisfy your curio- 
 sity." Accordingly we agreed upon attempting the 
 adventure. 
 
 The priest one evening made his preparations, and 
 bade me find a comrade, or not more than two. I 
 invited Vincenzio Romoli, a very dear friend of mine, 
 and the priest took with him a native of Pistoja, who 
 also cultivated the black art. We went together to 
 the Coliseum ; and there the priest, having arrayed 
 himself in necromancer's robes, began to describe 
 circles on the earth with the finest ceremonies that 
 can be imagined. I must say that he had made us 
 bring precious perfumes and fire, and also drugs of 
 fetid odour. When the preliminaries were completed, 
 he made the entrance into the circle ; and taking 
 us by the hand, introduced us one by one inside it. 
 Then he assigned our several functions; to the necro- 
 mancer, his comrade, he gave the pentacle to hold; 
 the other two of us had to look after the fire and the 
 perfumes; and then he began his incantations. This 
 lasted more than an hour and a half; when several 
 legions appeared, and the Coliseum was all full of 
 devils. I was occupied with the precious perfumes, 
 
 x-K 
 
17^ 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 and when the priest perceived in what numbers they 
 were present, he turned to me and said : " Benvenuto, 
 ask them something." I called on them to reunite me 
 with my Sicilian Angelica. That night we obtained 
 no answer; but I enjoyed the greatest satisfaction of 
 my curiosity in such matters. The necromancer said 
 that we should have to go a second time, and that I 
 should obtain the full accomplishment of my request ; 
 but he wished me to bring with me a little boy of pure 
 virginity. 
 
 I chose one of my shop-lads, who was about twelve 
 years old, and invited Vincenzio Romoli again ; and 
 we also took a certain Agnolino Gaddi, who was a very 
 intimate friend of both. When we came once more 
 to the place appointed, the necromancer made just the 
 same preparations, attended by the same and even more 
 impressive details. Then he introduced us into the 
 circle, which he had reconstructed with art more admir- 
 able and yet more wondrous ceremonies. Afterwards 
 he appointed my friend Vincenzio to the ordering of 
 the perfumes and the fire, and with him Agnolino 
 Gaddi. He next placed in my hand the pentacle, 
 which he bid me turn toward the points he indicated, 
 and under the pentacle I held the little boy, my work- 
 man. Now the necromancer began to utter those 
 awful invocations, calling by name on multitudes of 
 demons who are captains of their legions, and these 
 he summoned by the virtue and potency of God, the 
 Uncreated, Living, and Eternal, in phrases of the 
 Hebrew, and also of the Greek and Latin tongues ; 
 insomuch that in a short space of time the whole 
 Coliseum was full of a hundredfold as many as had 
 appeared upon the first occasion. Vincenzio Eomoli, 
 together with Agnolino, tended the fire and heaped on 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 1/3 
 
 quantities of precious perfumes. At tlie advice of the 
 necromancer, I again demanded to be reunited with 
 Angelica. The sorcerer turned to me and said : " Hear 
 you what they have replied ; that in the space of one 
 month you will be where she is ? " Then once more 
 he prayed me to stand firm by him, because the legions 
 were a thousandfold more than he had summoned, and 
 were the most dangerous of all the denizens of hell ; 
 and now that they had settled what I asked, it behoved 
 us to be civil to them and dismiss them gently. On 
 the other side, the boy, who was beneath the pentacle, 
 shrieked out in terror that a million of the fiercest 
 men were swarming round and threatening us. He 
 said, moreover, that four huge giants had appeared, 
 who were striving to force their way inside the circle. 
 Meanwhile the necromancer, trembling with fear, kept 
 doing his best with mild and soft persuasions to dis- 
 miss them. Vincenzio Romoli, who quaked like an 
 aspen leaf, looked after the perfumes. Though I was 
 quite as frightened as the rest of them, I tried to 
 show it less, and inspired them all with marvellous 
 courage ; but the truth is that I had given myself up 
 for dead when I saw the terror of the necromancer. 
 The boy had stuck his head between his knees, ex- 
 claiming : " This is how I will meet death, for we are 
 certainly dead men." Again I said to him : " These 
 creatures are all inferior to us, and what you see is 
 only smoke and shadow ; so then raise your eyes." 
 When he had raised them he cried out : " The whole 
 Coliseum is in flames, and the fire is advancing on 
 us ; " then covering his face with his hands, he groaned 
 again that he was dead, and that he could not endure 
 the sight longer. The necromancer appealed for my 
 support, entreating me to stand firm by him, and to 
 
174 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 have assafetida flung upon the coals ; so I turned to 
 Vincenzio Romoli, and told him to make the fumiga- 
 tion at once. While uttering these words I looked at 
 Agnolino Gaddi, whose eyes were starting from their 
 sockets in his terror, and who was more than half 
 dead, and said to him : " Agnolo, in time and place 
 like this we must not yield to fright, but do the utmost 
 to bestir ourselves ; therefore, np at once, and fling a 
 handful of that assafetida upon the fire." Agnolo, at 
 the moment when he moved to do this, let fly such a 
 volley from his breech, that it was far more effectual 
 than the assafetida.^ The boy, roused by that great 
 stench and noise, lifted his face a little, and hearino" 
 me laugh, he plucked up courage, and said the devils 
 were taking to flight tempestuously. So we abode 
 thus until the matin-bells began to sound. Then the 
 boy told us again that but few remained, and those 
 were at a distance. When the necromancer had con- 
 cluded his ceremonies, he put off" his wizard's robe, 
 and packed up a great bundle of books which he had 
 brought with him ; then, all together, we issued with 
 him from the circle, huddling as close as we could to 
 one another, especially the boy, who had got into the 
 middle, and taken the necromancer by his gown and 
 me by the cloak. All the while that we were going 
 toward our houses in the Banchi, he kept saying that 
 two of the devils he had seen in the Coliseum were 
 gamboling in front of us, skipping now along the roofs 
 and now upon the ground. The nBcromancer assured 
 me that, often as he had entered magic circles, he had 
 never met with such a serious affair as this. He also 
 tried to persuade me to assist him in consecrating a 
 book, by means of which we should extract immeasur- 
 
 ^ Fece una istrombazzata di coregge con tanta abundanzia di merda. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 175 
 
 able wealth, since we could call up fiends to show us 
 where treasures were, whereof the earth is full ; and 
 after this wise we should become the richest of man- 
 kind : love affairs like mine were nothing but vanities 
 and follies without consequence. I replied that if I 
 were a Latin scholar I should be very willing to do 
 what he suggested. He continued to persuade me by 
 arguing that Latin scholarship was of no importance, 
 and that, if he wanted, he could have found plenty of 
 good Latinists ; but that he had never met with a man 
 of soul so firm as mine, and that I ought to follow his 
 counsel. Engaged in this conversation, we reached 
 our homes, and each one of us dreamed all that night 
 of devils. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 As we were in the habit of meeting daily, the necro- 
 mancer kept urging me to join in his adventure. 
 Accordingly, I asked him how long it would take, and 
 where we should have to go. To this he answered that 
 we might get through with it in less than a month, and 
 that the most suitable locality for the purpose was the 
 hill country of Norcia ; ^ a master of his in the art had 
 indeed consecrated such a book quite close to Rome, at 
 a place called the Badia di Farfa ; but he had met with 
 some difficulties there, which would not occur in the 
 mountains of Norcia ; the peasants also of that district 
 are people to be trusted, and have some practice in 
 these matters, so that at a pinch they are able to render 
 valuable assistance. 
 
 ^ This district of the Central Apennines was always famous for 
 witches, poisoners, and so forth. The Farfa mentioned below is a 
 village of the Subine hills. 
 
176 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 This priestly sorcerer moved me so by liis persuasions 
 that I was well disposed to comply with his request ; 
 but I said I wanted first to finish the medals I was 
 making for the Pope. I had confided what I was doing 
 about them to him alone, begging him to keep my 
 secret. At the same time I never stopped asking him 
 if he believed that I should be reunited to my Sicilian 
 Angelica at the time appointed ; for the date was draw- 
 ing near, and I thought it singular that I heard nothing 
 about her. The necromancer told me that it was quite 
 certain I should find myself where she was, since the 
 devils never break their word when they promise, as 
 they did on that occasion; but he bade me keep my 
 eyes open, and be on the look-out against some accident 
 which might happen to me in that connection, and put 
 restraint upon myself to endure somewhat against my 
 inclination, for he could discern a great and imminent 
 danger in it : well would it be for me if I went with 
 him to consecrate the book, since this would avert the 
 peril that menaced me, and would make us both most 
 fortunate. 
 
 I was beginning to hanker after the adventure more 
 than he did ; but I said that a certain Maestro Giovanni 
 of Castel Bolognese had just come to Rome, very in- 
 genious in the art of making medals of the sort I made 
 in steel, and that I thirsted for nothing more than to 
 compete with him and take the world by storm with 
 some great masterpiece, which I hoped would annihilate 
 all those enemies of mine by the force of genius and not 
 the sword. ^ The sorcerer on his side went on urging : 
 
 ^ Gio. Bernard! had been in the Duke of Ferrara's service. Giovio 
 brought him to Rome, where he was patronised by the Cardinals Sal- 
 ■viati and De' Medici. He made a famous medal of Clement VII., and 
 was a Pontifical mace-bearer. He died at Faenza in 1555. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 177 
 
 " Nay, prithee, Benvennto, come with me and shun a 
 great disaster which I see impending over you." How- 
 ever I had made my mind up, come what would, to 
 finish my medal, and we were now approaching the end 
 of the month. I was so absorbed and enamoured by my 
 work that I thought no more about Angelica or any- 
 thiug of that kind, but gave my whole self up to it. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 It happened one day, close on the hours of vespers, 
 that I had to go at an unusual time for me from my 
 house to my workshop ; for I ought to say that the 
 latter was in the Banchi, while I lived behind the 
 Banchi, and went rarely to the shop ; all my business 
 there I left in the hands of my partner, Felice. Having 
 stayed a short while in the workshop, I remembered that 
 I had to say something to Alessandro del Bene. So I 
 arose, and when I reached the Banchi, I met a man 
 called Ser Benedetto, who was a great friend of mine. 
 He was a notary, born in Florence, son of a blind man 
 who said prayers about the streets for alms, and a 
 Sienese by race. This Ser Benedetto had been very 
 many years at Naples ; afterwards he had settled in 
 Eome, where he transacted business for some Sienese 
 merchants of the Chigi.^ My partner had over and 
 over again asked him for some monies which were due 
 for certain little rings confided to Ser Benedetto. That 
 very day, meeting him in the Banchi, he demanded his 
 money rather roughly, as his wont was. Benedetto 
 was walking with his masters, and they, annoyed by 
 the interruption, scolded him sharply, saying they 
 
 ^ The MS. has Figi ; but this is probably a mistake of the amanuensis 
 VOL. I. M 
 
178 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 would be served by somebody else, in order not to have 
 to listen to such barking. Ser Benedetto did the best 
 he could to excuse himself, swore that he had paid the 
 goldsmith, and said he had no power to curb the rage 
 of madmen. The Sienese took his words ill, and dis- 
 missed him on the spot. Leaving them, he ran like an 
 arrow to my shop, probably to take revenge upon 
 Felice, It chanced that just in the middle of the street 
 we met. I, who had heard nothing of the matter, 
 greeted him most kindly, according to my custom, to 
 which courtesy he replied with insults. Then what the 
 sorcerer had said flashed all at once upon my mind ; 
 arid bridling myself as well as I was able, in the way 
 he bade me, I answered : — " Good brother Benedetto, 
 don't fly into a rage with me, for I have done you no 
 harm, nor do I know anything about these affairs of 
 yours. Please go and finish what you have to do with 
 Felice. He is quite capable of giving you a proper 
 answer ; but inasmuch as I know nothing about it, you 
 are wrong to abuse me in this way, especially as you are 
 well aware that I am not the man to put up with insults." 
 He retorted that I knew everything, and that he was 
 the man to make me bear a heavier load than that, and 
 that Felice and I were two great rascals. By this time 
 a crowd had gathered round to hear the quarrel. Pro- 
 voked by his ugly words, I stooped and took up a lump 
 of mud — for it had rained — and hurled it with a quick 
 and unpremeditated movement at his face. He ducked 
 his head, so that the mud hit him in the middle of the 
 skull. There was a stone in it with several sharp angles, 
 one of which striking him, he fell stunned like a dead 
 man ; whereupon all the bystanders, seeing the great 
 quantity of blood, judged that he was really dead. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 179 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 While lie was still lying on tlie ground, and people 
 were preparing to carry him away, Pompeo the jeweller 
 passed by. The Pope had sent for him to give orders 
 about some jewels. Seeing the fellow in such a miser- 
 able plight, he asked who had struck him ; on which 
 they told him : — " Benvenuto did it, but the stupid 
 creature brought it down upon himself." No sooner 
 had Pompeo reached the Pope than he began to speak : 
 " Most blessed Father, Benvenuto has this very moment 
 murdered Tobbia; I saw it with my own eyes." On 
 this the Pope in a fury ordered the Governor, who was 
 in the presence, to take and hang me at once in the 
 place where the homicide had been committed, adding 
 that he must do all he could to catch me, and not 
 appear again before him until he had hanged me. 
 
 When I saw the unfortunate Benedetto stretched 
 upon the ground, I thought at once of the peril I was 
 in, considering the power of my enemies, and what 
 might ensue from this disaster. Making off, I took 
 refuge in the house of Messer Giovanni Gaddi, clerk 
 of the Camera, with the intention of preparing as soon 
 as possible to escape from Eome. He, however, advised 
 nie not to be in such a hurry, for it might turn out 
 perhaps that the evil was not so great as I imagined ; 
 and culling Messer Annibal Caro, who lived with him, 
 bade him go for information. 
 
 While these arrangements were being made, a 
 Roman gentleman appeared, who belonged to the 
 household of Cardinal de' Medici, and had been sent 
 by him.^ Taking Messer Giovanni and me apart, he 
 
 ^ Ippolito de' Medici was a Cardina, much against his natural inclina- 
 
i8o 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 told lis that the Cardinal had reported to him what the 
 Pope said, and that there was no way of helping me 
 out of the scrape ; it would be best for me to shun 
 the first fury of the storm by flight, and not to risk 
 myself in any house in Rome. Upon this gentleman's 
 departure, Messer Giovanni looked me in the face as 
 though he were about to cry, and said : " Ah me ! Ah 
 woe is me ! There is nothing I can do to aid you ! " I 
 replied : " By God's means, I shall aid myself alone ; 
 only I request you to put one of your horses at my 
 disposition." They had already saddled a black Turkish 
 horse, the finest and the best in Rome. I mounted 
 with an arquebuse upon the saddle-bow, wound up in 
 readiness to fire, if need were.-^ When I reached Ponte 
 Sisto, I found the whole of the Bargello's guard there, 
 both horse and foot. So, making a virtue of necessity, 
 I put my horse boldly to a sharp trot, and with God's 
 grace, being somehow unperceived by them, passed 
 freely through. Then, with all the speed I could, I 
 took the road to Palombara, a fief of my lord Giovan- 
 batista Savello, whence I sent the horse back to Messer 
 Giovanni, without, however, thinking it well to inform 
 him where I was.^ Lord Giovanbatista, after very kindly 
 entertaining me two days, advised me to remove and 
 go toward Naples till the storm blew over. So, pro- 
 viding me with company, he set me on the way to 
 Naples. 
 
 tion. When he went as Papal Legate to Hungary in 1532, he assumed 
 the airs and style of a Condottiere. His jealousy of his cousin Ales- 
 sandro led to hij untimely death by poison in 1535. 
 
 ^ The gun was an arquebuso a ruota, which had a wheel to cock it. 
 
 2 A village in the Sabina, north of Tivoli. Giov. Battista Savelli, 
 of a great Roman house, was a captain of cavalry in the Papal service 
 after 1530. In 1540 he entered the service of Duke Cosimo, and died 
 in 1553- 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 i8i 
 
 While travelling, I met a sculptor of my acquaint- 
 ance, who was going to San Germano to finish the 
 tomb of Piero de' Medici at Monte Cassino,^ His name 
 was Solosmeo, and he gave me the news that on the 
 very evening of the fray, Pope Clement sent one of his 
 chamberlains to inquire how Tobbia was getting on. 
 Finding him at work, unharmed, and without even 
 knowing anything about the matter, the messenger 
 went back and told the Pope, who turned round to 
 Pompeo and said : " You are a good-for-nothing rascal ; 
 but I promise you well that you have stirred a snake 
 up which will sting you, and serve you right ! " Then 
 he addressed himself to Cardinal de' Medici, and 
 commissioned him to look after me, adding that he 
 should be very sorry to let me slip through his fingers. 
 And so Solosmeo and I went on our way singing to- 
 ward Monte Cassino, intending to pursue our journey 
 thence in company toward Naples. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 When Solosmeo had inspected his affairs at Monte 
 Cassino, we resumed our journey ; and having come 
 within a mile of Naples, we were met by an innkeeper, 
 who invited us to his house, and said he had been at 
 
 ^ This sculptor was Antonio Solosmeo of Settignano. The monu- 
 ment erected to Piero de' Medici (drowned in the Garigliano, 1504) at 
 Monte Cassino is by no means a brilliant piece of Florentine art. Piero 
 was the exiled son of Lorenzo the Magnificent ; and the Medici, when 
 they regained their principality, erected this monument to his memory, 
 employing Antonio da San Gallo, Francesco da San Gallo, and a Nea- 
 politan, Mat teo de' Quar an ta. The work was begun in 1532. Solosmeo 
 appears from this passage in Cellini to have taken the execution of it 
 over. 
 
1 82 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 Florence many years with Carlo Ginori ; ^ adding, that 
 if we pnt up at his inn, he would treat us most kindly, 
 for the reason that we both were Florentines. We told 
 him frequently that we did not want to go to him. 
 However, he kept passing, sometimes in front and 
 sometimes behind, perpetually repeating that he would 
 have us stop at his hostelry. When this began to bore 
 me, I asked if he could tell me anything about a certain 
 Sicilian woman called Beatrice, who had a beautiful 
 daughter named Angelica, and both were courtesans. 
 Taking it into his head that I was jeering him, he cried 
 out : " God send mischief to all courtesans and such as 
 favour them ! " Then he set spurs to his horse, and 
 made off as though he was resolved to leave us. I felt 
 some pleasure at having rid myself in so fair a manner 
 of that ass of a innkeeper ; and yet I was rather the 
 loser than the gainer ; for the great love I bore Angelica 
 had come back to my mind, and while I was conversing, 
 not without some lover's sighs, upon this subject with 
 Solosmeo, we saw the man returning to us at a gallop. 
 When he drew up, he said : " Two or perhaps three 
 days ago a woman and a girl came back to a house in 
 my neighbourhood ; they had the names you mentioned, 
 but whether they are Sicilians I cannot say." I 
 answered : " Such power over me has that name of 
 Angelica, that I am now determined to put up at 
 your inn." 
 
 We rode on all together with mine host into the 
 town of Naples, and descended at his house. Minutes 
 seemed years to me till I had put my things in order, 
 which I did in the twinkling of an eye ; then I went to 
 the house, which was not far from our inn, and found 
 there my Angelica, who greeted me with infinite de- 
 
 ^ A Gonfalonier of the Republic in 1527. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 183 
 
 monstrations of the most unbounded passion. I stayed 
 with her from evenfall until the following morning, 
 and enjoyed such pleasure as I never had before or 
 since ; but while drinking deep of this delight, it 
 occurred to my mind how exactly on that day the 
 month expired, which had been prophesied within the 
 necromantic circle by the devils. So then let every 
 man who enters into relation with those spirits weigh 
 well the inestimable perils I have passed through ! 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 I happened to have in my purse a diamond, which I 
 showed about among the goldsmiths ; and though I 
 was but young my reputation as an able artist was so 
 well known even at Naples that they welcomed me 
 most warmly. Among others, I made acquaintance 
 with a most excellent companion, a jeweller, Messer 
 Domenico Fontana by name. This worthy man left 
 his shop for the three days that 1 spent in Naples, nor 
 ever quitted my company, but showed me many admir- 
 able monuments of antiquity in the city and its neigh- 
 bourhood. Moreover, he took me to pay my respects 
 to the Viceroy of Naples, who had let him know that 
 he should like to see me. "When I presented myself to 
 his Excellency, he received me with much honour ; ^ 
 and while we were exchanging compliments, the 
 diamond which I have mentioned caught his eye. He 
 made me show it him, and prayed me, if I parted with 
 it, to give him the refusal. Having taken back the 
 
 ^ The Spanish Viceroy was at this time Pietro Alvarez de Toledo, 
 Marquis of Villafranca, and uncle of the famous Duke of Alva. He 
 governed Naples for twenty years from 1532 onwards. 
 
LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 stone, I offered it again to his Excellency, adding that 
 the diamond and I were at his service. Then he said 
 that the diamond pleased him well, but that he should 
 be much better pleased if I were to stay with him ; he 
 would make such terms with me as would cause me to 
 feel satisfied. We spoke many words of courtesy on 
 both sides ; and then coming to the merits of the 
 diamond, his Excellency bade me without hesitation 
 name the price at which I valued it. Accordingly I 
 said that it was worth exactly two hundred crowns. 
 He rejoined that in his opinion I had not overvalued 
 it ; but that since I had set it, and he knew me for 
 the first artist in the world, it would not make the 
 same effect when mounted by another hand. To this 
 I said that I had not set the stone, and that it was not 
 well set ; its brilliancy was due to its own excellence ; 
 and that if I were to mount it afresh, I could make it 
 show far better than it did. Then I put my thumb- 
 nail to the angles of its facets, took it from the ring, 
 cleaned it up a little, and handed it to the Viceroy. 
 Delighted and astonished, he wrote me out a cheque ^ 
 for the two hundred crowns I had demanded. 
 
 When I returned to my lodging, I found letters from 
 the Cardinal de' Medici, in which he told me to come 
 back post-haste to Eome, and to dismount without 
 delay at the palace of his most reverend lordship. I 
 read the letter to my Angelica, who begged me with 
 tears of affection either to remain in Naples or to take 
 her with me. I replied that if she was disposed to come 
 with, me, I would give up to her keeping the two hun- 
 dred ducats I had received from the Viceroy. Her 
 mother perceiving us in this close conversation, drew 
 
 ^ Mi fece una polizza. A polizza was an order for money, practically 
 identical with our cheque. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 i8s 
 
 nigh and said : " Benvenuto, if you want to take my 
 daughter to Rome, leave me a sum of fifteen ducats, 
 to pay for my lying-in, and then I will travel after 
 you." I told the old harridan that I would very gladly 
 leave her thirty if she would give me my Angelica. 
 We made the bargain, and Angelica entreated me to 
 buy her a gown of black velvet, because the stuff was 
 cheap at Naples. I consented to everything, sent for 
 the velvet, settled its price and paid for it; then the 
 old woman, who thought me over head and ears in 
 love, begged for a gown of fine cloth for herself, as 
 well as other outlays for her sons, and a good bit more 
 money than I had offered. I turned to her with a 
 pleasant air and said : " My dear Beatrice, are you 
 satisfied with what I offered ? " She answered that she 
 was not ; thereupon I said that what was not enough 
 for her would be quite enough for me; and having 
 kissed Angelica, we parted, she with tears, and I with 
 laughter, and off at once I set for Rome. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 1 left Naples by night with my money in my pocket, 
 and this I did to prevent being set upon or murdered, 
 as is the way there ; but when I came to Selciata,^ 
 I had to defend myself with great address and bodily 
 prowess from several horsemen who came out to as- 
 sassinate me. During the following days, after leav- 
 ing Solosmeo at his work in Monte Oassino, I came 
 one morning to breakfast at the inn of Adanagni ; ^ 
 
 ^ Ponte a Selice, between Capua and Aversa. 
 
 2 Anagni, where Boniface VIII. was outraged to the death by the 
 French partisans of Philip le Bel. 
 
1 86 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 and wlien I was near tlie house, I shot some birds 
 with my arquebuse. An iron spike, which was in the 
 lock of my musket, tore my right hand. Though the 
 wound was not of any consequence, it seemed to be 
 so, because it bled abundantly. Going into the inn, 
 1 put my horse up, and ascended to a large gallery, 
 where I found a party of Neapolitan gentlemen just 
 upon the point of sitting down to table ; they had with 
 them a young woman of quality, the loveliest I ever 
 saw. At the moment when I entered the room, I was 
 followed by a very brave young serving-man of mine 
 holding a big partisan in his hand. The sight of us, 
 our arms, and the blood, inspired those poor gentle- 
 men with such terror, particularly as the place was 
 known to be a nest of murderers, that they rose from 
 table and called on God in a panic to protect them, I 
 began to laugh, and said that God had protected them 
 already, for that I was a man to defend them against 
 whoever tried to do them harm. Then I asked them 
 for something to bind up my wounded hand ; and the 
 charming lady took out a handkerchief richly em- 
 broidered with gold, wishing to make a bandage with 
 it. I refused; but she tore the piece in half, and in 
 the gentlest manner wrapt my hand up with her fingers. 
 The company thus having regained confidence, we 
 dined together very gaily ; and when the meal was 
 over, we all mounted and went off together. The 
 gentlemen, however, were not as yet quite at their 
 ease ; so they left me in their cunning to entertain 
 the lady, while they kept at a short distance be- 
 hind. I rode at her side upon a pretty little horse 
 of mine, making signs to my servant that he should 
 keep somewhat apart, which gave us the oppor- 
 tunity of discussing things that are not sold by the 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 187 
 
 apothecary.^ In this way I journeyed to Rome with 
 the greatest enjoyment I have ever had. 
 
 When I got to Rome, I dismounted at the palace of 
 Cardinal de' Medici, and having obtained an audience 
 of his most reverend lordship, paid my respects, and 
 thanked him warmly for my recall. I then entreated 
 him to secure me from imprisonment, and even from a 
 fine if that were possible. The Cardinal was very glad 
 to see me ; told me to stand in no fear ; then turned to 
 one of his gentlemen, called Messer Pier Antonio Pecci 
 of Siena, ordering him to tell the Bargello not to touch 
 me.^ He then asked him how the man was going on 
 whose head I had broken with the stone. Messer Pier 
 Antonio replied that he was very ill, and that he would 
 probably be even worse ; for when he heard that I was 
 coming back to Home, he swore he would die to serve 
 me an ill turn. When the Cardinal heard that, he 
 burst into a fit of laughter, and cried: "The fellow 
 could not have taken a better way than this to make 
 us know that he was born a Sienese." After that he 
 turned to me and said : " For our reputation and your 
 own, refrain these four or five days from going about 
 in the Banchi ; after that go where you like, and let 
 fools die at their own pleasure." 
 
 I went home and set myself to finishing the medal 
 which I had begun, with the head of Pope Clement 
 and a figure of Peace on the reverse. The figure was 
 a slender woman, dressed in very thin drapery, gathered 
 at the waist, with a little torch in her hand, which was 
 burning a heap of arms bound together like a trophy. 
 
 ^ i.e., private and sentimental. 
 
 ^ This Pecci passed into the service of Caterinade' Medici. In 1551 
 he schemed to withdraw Siena from the Spanish to the French cause, 
 and was declared a rebel. 
 
 . •*. -, ;-J. •• 
 
i88 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 In the background I had shown part of a temple, where 
 was Discord chained with a load of fetters. Eound 
 about it ran a legend in these words : Clauduntur belli 
 portm.'^ 
 
 During the time that I was finishing this medal, the 
 man whom I had wounded recovered, and the Pope 
 kept incessantly asking for me. I, however, avoided 
 visiting Cardinal de' Medici; for whenever I showed 
 my face before him, his lordship gave me some com- 
 mission of importance, which hindered me from work- 
 ing at my medal to the end. Consequently Messer 
 Pier Carnesecchi, who was a great favourite of the 
 Pope's, undertook to keep me in sight, and let me 
 adroitly understand how much the Pope desired my 
 services.^ I told him that in a few days I would 
 prove to his Holiness that his service had never been 
 neglected by me. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 Not many days had passed before, my medal being 
 finished, I stamped it in gold, silver, and copper. After 
 I had shown it to Messer Pietro, he immediately 
 introduced me to the Pope. It was on a day in April 
 after dinner, and the weather very fine ; the Pope was 
 in the Belvedere. After entering the presence, I put 
 my medals together with the dies of steel into his 
 hand. He took them, and recognising at once their 
 mastery of art, looked Messer Piero in the face and 
 
 ^ The medal was struck to celebrate the peace in Christendom be- 
 tween 1530 and 1536. 
 
 ^ Piero Carnesecchi was one of the martyrs of free thought in Italy. 
 He adopted Protestant opinions, and was beheaded and burned in 
 Rome, August 1567. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 189 
 
 said: "The ancients never had such medals made for 
 them as these." 
 
 While he and the others were inspecting them, 
 taking up now the dies and now the medals in their 
 hands, I began to speak as submissively as I was able : 
 " If a greater power had not controlled the working of 
 my inauspicious stars, and hindered that with which 
 they violently menaced me, your Holiness, without 
 your fault or mine, would have lost a faithful and 
 loving servant. It must, most blessed Father, be 
 allowed that in those cases where men are risking all 
 upon one throw, it is not wrong to do as certain poor 
 and simple men are wont to say, who tell us we must 
 mark seven times and cut once.^ Your Holiness will 
 remember how the malicious and lying tongue of my 
 bitter enemy so easily aroused your anger, that you 
 ordered the Governor to have me taken on the spot 
 and hanged ; but I have no doubt that when you had 
 become aware of the irreparable act by which you 
 would have wronged yourself, in cutting off from you a 
 servant such as even now your Holiness hath said he is, 
 I am sure, I repeat, that, before God and the world, 
 you would have felt no trifliug twinges of remorse. 
 Excellent and virtuous fathers, and masters of like 
 quality, ought not to let their arm in wrath descend 
 upon their sons and servants with such inconsiderate 
 haste, seeing that subsequent repentance will avail 
 them nothing. But now that God has overruled the 
 malign influences of the stars and saved me for your 
 Holiness, I humbly beg you another time not to let 
 yourself so easily be stirred to rage against me." 
 
 ^ Segnar sette e tagliar uno. A proverb derived possibly from fellinw 
 trees ; or, as some commentators interpret, from the points made by- 
 sculptors on their marble befoi-e they block the statue out 
 
 
190 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 The Pope had stopped from looking at the medals 
 and was now listening attentively to what I said. 
 There were many noblemen of the greatest consequence 
 present, which made him blush a little, as it were for 
 shame ; and not knowing how else to extricate himself 
 from this entanglement, he said that he could not 
 remember having given such an order. I changed the 
 conversation in order to cover his embarrassment. His 
 Holiness then began to speak again about the medals, 
 and asked what method I had used to stamp them so 
 marvellously, large as they were ; for he had never met 
 with ancient pieces of that size. We talked a little on 
 this subject ; but being not quite easy that I might not 
 begin another lecture sharper than the last, he praised 
 my medals, and said they gave him the greatest satis- 
 faction, but that he should like another reverse made 
 according to a fancy of his own, if it were possible to 
 stamp them with two different patterns. I said that it 
 was possible to do so. Then his Holiness commissioned 
 me to design the history of Moses when he strikes the 
 rock and water issues from it, with this motto : Ut hibat 
 ipopulus} At last he added : " Go, Benvenuto ; you 
 will not have finished it before I have provided for 
 your fortune." After I had taken leave, the Pope pro- 
 claimed before the whole company that he would give me 
 enough to live on wealthily without the need of labour- 
 ing for any one but him. So I devoted myself entirely 
 to working out this reverse with the Moses on it. 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 In the meantime the Pope was taken ill, and his 
 physicians thought the case was dangerous. Accord- 
 ^ The medal commemorated a deep well sunk by Clement at Orvieto. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 191 
 
 ingly my enemy began to be afraid of me, and engaged 
 some Neapolitan soldiers to do to me what lie was 
 dreadingf I mig-lit do to him.^ I had therefore much 
 trouble to defend my poor life. In course of time, 
 however, I completed the reverse ; and when I took it 
 to the Pope, I found him in bed in a most deplorable 
 condition. Nevertheless, he received me with the 
 greatest kindness, and wished to inspect the medals 
 and the dies. He sent for spectacles and lights, but 
 was unable to see anything clearly. Then he began to 
 fumble with his fingers at them, and having felt them 
 a short while, he fetched a deep sigh, and said to his 
 attendants that he was much concerned about me, but 
 that if God gave him back his health he would make it 
 all right. 
 
 Three days afterwards the Pope died, and I was left 
 with all my labour lost ; yet I plucked up courage, and 
 told myself that these medals had won me so much 
 celebrity, that any Pope who was elected would give 
 me work to do, and perad venture bring me better 
 fortune. Thus I encouraged and put heart into myself, 
 and buried in oblivion all the injuries which Pompeo 
 had done me. Then putting on my arms and girding 
 my sword, I went to San Piero, and kissed the feet of 
 the dead Pope, not without shedding tears. After- 
 wards I returned to the Banchi to look on at the 
 great commotion which always happens on such occa- 
 sions. 
 
 While I was sitting in the street with several of my 
 friends, Pompeo went by, attended by ten men very 
 well armed ; and when he came just opposite, he 
 
 1 The meaning of this is, that if Clement died, Cellini would have 
 had his opportunity of vengeance during the anarchy which followed a 
 vacancy of the Papal See. 
 
192 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 stopped, as tliougli about to pick a quarrel with myself. 
 My companions, brave and adventurous young men, 
 made signs to me to draw my sword ; but it flashed 
 through my mind that if I drew, some terrible mischief 
 might result for persons who were wholly innocent. 
 Therefore I considered that it would be better if I put 
 my life to risk alone. When Pompeo had stood there 
 time enough to say two Ave Maries, he laughed deri- 
 sively in my direction ; and going off, his fellows also 
 laughed and wagged their heads, with many other 
 insolent gestures. My companions wanted to begin 
 the fray at once ; but I told them hotly that I was 
 quite able to conduct ray quarrels to an end by myself, 
 and that I had no need of stouter fighters than I was ; 
 so that each of them might mind his business. My 
 friends were angry and went off muttering. Now 
 there was among them my dearest comrade, named 
 Albertaccio del Bene, own brother to Alessandro and 
 Albizzo, who is now a very rich man in Lyons. He 
 was the most redoubtable young man I ever knew, and 
 the most high-spirited, and loved me like himself ; and 
 insomuch as he was well aware that my forbearance had 
 not been inspired by want of courage, but by the most 
 daring bravery, for he knew me down to the bottom of 
 my nature, he took my words up and begged me to 
 favour him so far as to associate him with myself in all 
 I meant to do. I replied : " Dear Albertaccio, dearest 
 to me above all men that live, the time will very likely 
 come when you shall give me aid ; but in this case, if 
 you love me, do not attend to me, but look to your own 
 business, and go at once like our other friends, for now 
 there is no time to lose." These words were spoken in 
 one breath. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 193 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 In the meanwhile my enemies had proceeded slowly 
 toward Chiavica, as the place was called, and had arrived 
 at the crossing of several roads, going in different direc- 
 tions ; but the street in which Pompeo's house stood 
 was the one which leads straight to the Campo di Fiore. 
 Some business or other made him enter the apothecary's 
 shop which stood at the corner of Chiavica, and there 
 he stayed a while transacting it. I had just been told 
 that he had boasted of the insult which he fancied he 
 had put upon me ; but be that as it may, it was to his 
 misfortune ; for precisely when I came up to the corner, 
 he was leaving the shop, and his bravi had opened their 
 ranks and received him in their midst. I drew a little 
 dagger with a sharpened edge, and breaking the line 
 of his defenders, laid my hands upon his breast so 
 quickly and coolly, that none of them were able to pre- 
 vent me. Then I aimed to strike him in the face ; but 
 fright made him turn his head round ; and I stabbed 
 him just beneath the ear. I only gave two blows, for 
 he fell stone dead at the second. I had not meant to 
 kill him ; but as the saying goes, knocks are not dealt 
 by measure. With my left hand I plucked back the 
 dagger and with my right hand drew my sword to 
 defend my life. However, all those bravi ran up to 
 the corpse and took no action against me ; so I went 
 back alone through Strada Giulia, considering how 
 best to put myself in safety. 
 
 I had walked about three hundred paces, when Piloto 
 the goldsmith, my very good friend, came up and said : 
 " Brother, now that the mischief's done, we must see 
 to saving you." I replied : " Let us go to Albertaccio 
 
 VOL. I. X 
 
194 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 del Bene's house ; it is only a few minutes since I told 
 him I should soon have need of him." When we arrived 
 there, Albertaccio and I embraced with measureless 
 affection ; and soon the whole flower of the young men 
 of the Banchi, of all nations except the Milanese, came 
 crowding in ; and each and all made proffer of their 
 own life to save mine. Messer Luigi Rucellai also sent 
 with marvellous promptitude and courtesy to put his 
 services at my disposal, as did many other great folk 
 of his station ; for they all agreed in blessing my hands,^ 
 judging that Pompeo had done me too great and unfor- 
 givable an injury, and marvelling that I had put up with 
 him so long. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 Cardinal Cornaro, on hearing of the affair, dispatched 
 thirty soldiers, with as many partisans, pikes, and 
 arquebuses, to bring me with all due respect to his 
 quarters.^ This he did unasked ; whereupon I accepted 
 the invitation, and went off with them, while more than 
 as many of the young men bore me company. Mean- 
 while, Messer Traiano, Pompeo's relative and first cham- 
 berlain to the Pope, sent a Milanese of high rank to 
 Cardinal de' Medici, giving him news of the great crime 
 I had committed, and calling on his most reverend 
 lordship to chastise me. The Cardinal retorted on the 
 spot : " His crime would indeed have been great if he 
 had not committed this lesser one ; thank Messer 
 
 ^ Tutti d'accordo mi benedissono le mani. This is tantamount to 
 approving Cellini's handiwork in murdering Pompeo, 
 
 2 This was Francesco, brother to Cardinal Marco Cornaro. He 
 received the hat in 1528, while yet a layman, and the Bishopric of 
 Bresda in 1 531. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 195 
 
 Traiano from me for giving me this information of a 
 fact of which I had not heard before." Then he turned, 
 and in presence of the nobleman said to the Bishop 
 of Frulli,^ his gentleman and intimate acquaintance : 
 " Search diligently after my friend Benvenuto ; I want 
 to help and defend him ; and whoso acts against him 
 acts against myself." The Milanese nobleman went 
 back, much disconcerted, while the Bishop of Frulli 
 came to visit me at Cardinal Cornaro's palace. Pre- 
 senting himself to the Cardinal, he related how Cardinal 
 de' Medici had sent for Benvenuto, and wanted to be 
 his protector. Now Cardinal Cornaro, who had the 
 touchy temper of a bear, flew into a rage, and told the 
 Bishop he was quite as well able to defend me as Car- 
 dinal de' Medici. The Bishop, in reply, entreated to 
 be allowed to speak with me on some matters of his 
 patron which had nothing to do with the affair. Cor- 
 naro bade him for that day make as though he had 
 already talked with me. 
 
 Cardinal de' Medici was very angry. However, I 
 went the following night, without Cornaro's knowledge, 
 and under good escort, to pay him my respects. Then 
 I begged him to grant me the favour of leaving me 
 where I was, and told him of the great courtesy which 
 Cornaro had shown me ; adding that if his most reverend 
 lordship suffered me to stay, I should gain one friend 
 the more in my hour of need ; otherwise his lordship 
 might dispose of me exactly as he thought best. He 
 told me to do as I liked ; so I returned to Cornaro's 
 palace, and a few days afterwards the Cardinal Farnese 
 was elected Pope.^ 
 
 Alter he had put affairs of greater consequence in 
 
 ^ Forli. The Bishop was Bernardo de' Medici, 
 '^ Paul III., elected October 13, 1534. 
 
196 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 order, the new Pope sent for rae, saying tliat he did not 
 wish any one else to strike his coins. To these words 
 of his Holiness a gentleman very privately acquainted 
 with him, named Messer Latino Juvinale, made answer 
 that I was in hiding for a murder committed on the 
 person of one Pompeo of Milan, and set forth what could 
 be argued for my justification in the most favourable 
 terms.^ The Pope replied : "I knew nothing of Pom- 
 peo's death, but plenty of Benvenuto's provocation ; so 
 let a safe- conduct be at once made out for him, in order 
 that he may be placed in perfect security." A great 
 friend of Pompeo's, who was also intimate with the 
 Pope, happened to be there ; he was a Milanese, called 
 Messer Ambrogio.^ This man said : " In the first days 
 of your papacy it were not well to grant pardons of this 
 kind." The Pope turned to him and answered : " You 
 know less about such matters than I do. Know then 
 that men like Benvenuto, unique in their profession, 
 stand above the law ; and how far more he, then, who 
 received the provocation I have heard of ? " When my 
 safe-conduct had been drawn out, I began at once to 
 serve him, and was treated with the utmost favour. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 Messer Latino Juvinale came to call on me, and 
 gave me orders to strike the coins of the Pope. This 
 roused up all my enemies, who began to look about 
 how they should hinder me ; but the Pope, perceiving 
 
 ^ Latino Giovenale de' Manetti was a Latin poet and a man of 
 humane learning, much esteemed by his contemporaries. 
 
 ^ Ambrogio Recalcati, He was for many years the trusted secretary 
 and diplomatic agent of Paul III. 
 
FIEST BOOK. 
 
 197 
 
 their drift, scolded them, and insisted that I should go 
 on working. I took the dies in hand, designing a S. 
 Paul, surrounded with this inscription : Vas eledionis. 
 This piece of money gave far more satisfaction than the 
 models of my competitors ; so that the Pope forbade 
 any one else to speak to him of coins, since he wished 
 me only to have to do with them. This encouraged me 
 to apply myself with untroubled spirit to the task ; and 
 Messer Latino Juvinale, who had received such orders 
 from the Pope, used to introduce me to his Holiness. I 
 had it much at heart to recover the post of stamper to 
 the Mint ; but on this point the Pope took advice, and 
 then told me I must first obtain pardon for the homicide, 
 and this I should get at the holy Maries' day in August 
 through the Caporioni of Eome.^ I may say that it is 
 usual every year on this solemn festival to grant the 
 freedom of twelve outlaws to these officers. Meanwhile 
 he promised to give me another safe-conduct, which 
 should keep me in security until that time. 
 
 When my enemies perceived that they were quite 
 unable to devise the means of keeping me out of 
 the Mint, they resorted to another expedient. The 
 deceased Pompeo had left three thousand ducats as 
 dowry to an illegitimate daughter of his; and they 
 contrived that a certain favourite of Signer Pier Luigi, 
 the Pope's son, should ask her hand in marriage through 
 the medium of his master.^ Accordingly the match 
 came off; but this fellow was an insignificant country 
 
 ^ Le sante Mark. So the Feast of the Assumption is called at 
 Florence, because devotion is paid on that day to the various images 
 of the Virgin scattered through the town. The Caporioni of Rome 
 were, like aldermen, wardens of the districts into which the city was 
 divided. 
 
 2 Pier Luigi Farnese, Paul III.'s bastard, M'as successively created 
 Gonfaloniere of the Church, Duke of Castro, Marquis of Novara, and 
 
198 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 lad, who had been brought up by his lordship ; and, as 
 folk said, he got but little of the money, since his lord- 
 ship laid his hands on it and had the mind to use it. 
 Now the husband of the girl, to please his wife, begged 
 the prince to have me taken up ; and he promised to 
 do so when the first flush of my favour with the Pope 
 had passed away. Things stood so about two months, 
 the servant always suing for his wife's dower, the 
 master putting him off with pretexts, but assuring the 
 woman that he would certainly revenge her father's 
 murder. I obtained an inkling of these designs ; yet 
 I did not omit to present myself pretty frequently to 
 his lordship, who made show of treating me with great 
 distinction. He had, however, decided to do one or 
 other of two things — either to have me assassinated, 
 or to have me taken up by the Bargello. Accordingly 
 he commissioned a certain little devil of a Corsican 
 soldier in his service to do the trick as cleverly as he 
 could ; ^ and my other enemies, with Messer Traiano at 
 the head of them, promised the fellow a reward of one 
 hundred crowns. He assured them that the job would 
 be as easy as sucking a fresh egg. Seeing into their 
 plot, I went about with my eyes open and with good 
 attendance, wearing an under-coat and armlets of mail, 
 for which I had obtained permission. 
 
 The Corsican, influenced by avarice, hoped to gain 
 the whole sum of money without risk, and imagined 
 himself capable of carrying the matter through alone. 
 Consequently, one day after dinner, he had me sent for 
 in the name of Signor Pier Luigi. I went off at once. 
 
 finally Duke of Parma and Piacenza in 1545. He was murdered at 
 Parma by his own courtiers in 1547. He was a man of infamous habits, 
 quite unfit for the high dignities conferred on him. 
 ^ Che la facessi piii netta che poteva. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 199 
 
 because liis lordship had spoken of wanting to order 
 several big silver vases. Leaving my home in a hurry, 
 armed however as usual, I walked rapidly through 
 Strada Giulia toward the Palazzo Farnese, not expect- 
 ing to meet anybody at that hour of day. I had reached 
 the end of the street and was making toward the palace, 
 when, my habit being always to turn the corners wide, 
 I observed the Corsican get up and take his station in 
 the middle of the road. Being prepared, I was not in 
 the least disconcerted ; but kept upon my guard, and 
 slackening pace a little, drew nearer toward the wall, 
 in order to give the fellow a wide berth. He on his 
 side came closer to the wall, and when we were now 
 within a short distance of each other, I perceived by 
 his gestures that he had it in his mind to do me a 
 mischief, and seeing me alone thus, thought he should 
 succeed. Accordingly, I began to speak and said : 
 " Brave soldier, if it had been night, you might have 
 said you had mistaken me, but since it is fall day, you 
 know well enough who I am. I never had anything to 
 do with you, and never injured you, but should be well 
 disposed to do you service." He replied in a high- 
 spirited way, without, however, making room for me to 
 pass, that he did not know what I was saying. Then 
 I answered : "I know very well indeed what you want, 
 and what you are saying; but the job which you have 
 taken in hand is more dangerous and difficult than you 
 imagine, and may peradventure turn out the wrong way 
 for you. Remember that you have to do with a man 
 who would defend himself against a hundred ; and the 
 adventure you are on is not esteemed by men of courage 
 like yourself." Meanwhile I also was looking black as 
 thunder, and each of us had changed colour. Folk too 
 gathered round us, for it had become clear that our 
 
200 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 words meant swords and daggers. He then, not having 
 the spirit to lay hands on me, cried out: "We shall meet 
 another time." I answered : " I am always glad to meet 
 honest men and those who show themselves as such." 
 
 When we parted, I went to his lordship's palace, and 
 found he had not sent for me. When I returned to my 
 shop, the Corsican informed me, through an intimate 
 friend of his and mine, that I need not be on my guard 
 against him, since he wished to be my good brother ; 
 but that I ought to be much upon my guard against 
 others, seeing I was in the greatest peril, for folk of 
 much consequence had sworn to have my life. I sent 
 to thank him, and kept the best look-out I could. Not 
 many days after, a friend of mine informed me that 
 Signer Pier Luigi had given strict orders that I should 
 be taken that very evening. They told me this at 
 twenty ; whereupon I. spoke with some of my friends, 
 who advised me to be off at once. The order had been 
 given for one hour after sunset ; accordingly at twenty- 
 three I left in the post for Florence. It seems that 
 when the Corsican showed that he had not pluck enough 
 to do the business as he promised, Signer Pier Luigi on 
 his own authority gave orders to have me taken, merely 
 to stop the mouth of Pompeo's daughter, who was always 
 clamouring to know where her dower had gone to. 
 When he was unable to gratify her in this matter of 
 revenge on either of the two plans he had formed, he 
 bethought him of another, which shall be related in its 
 proper place. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 I reached Florence in due course, and paid my 
 respects to the Duke Alessandro, who greeted me with 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 201 
 
 extraordinary kindness and pressed me to remain in 
 his service. There was then at Florence a sculptor 
 called II Tribolino, and we were gossips, for I had 
 stood godfather to his son.^ In course of conversation 
 he told me that a certain Giacopo del Sansovino, his 
 first master, had sent for him ; and whereas he had 
 never seen Venice, and because of the gains he expected, 
 he was very glad to go there.^ On his asking me if 
 I had ever been at Venice, I said no ; this made him 
 invite me to accompany him, and I agreed. So then 
 I told Duke Alessandro that I wanted first to go to 
 Venice, and that afterwards I would return to serve 
 him. He exacted a formal promise to this effect, and 
 bade me present myself before I left the city. Next 
 day, having made my preparations, I went to take 
 leave of the Duke, whom I found in the palace of the 
 Pazzi, at that time inhabited by the wife and daughters 
 of Signer Lorenzo Cibo.^ Having sent word to his 
 Excellency that I wished to set off for Venice with 
 his good leave. Signer Cosimino de' Medici, now Duke 
 of Florence, returned with the answer that I must go 
 to Niccolo da Monte Aguto, who would give me fifty 
 
 ^ Niccolo de' Pericoli, a Florentine, who got the nickname of Tribolo 
 in his boyhood, was a sculptor of some distinction. He worked on the 
 bas-reliefs of San Petronio at Bologna, and helped Michel Agnolo da 
 Siena to execute the tomb of Adrian VI. at Rome. Afterwards he was 
 employed upon the sculpture of the Santa Casa at Loreto. He also 
 made some excellent bronze-work for the Medicean villas at Cestello 
 and Petraja. All through his life Tribolo served the Medici, and 
 during the siege of Florence in 1530 he constructed a cork model of 
 the town for Clement VII. Born 1485, died 1550. 
 
 ^ This is the famous Giacopo Tatti, who took his artist's surname 
 from his master, Andrea da Monte a Sansovino. His works at 
 Florence, Rome, and V^enice ai'e justly famous. He died in 1570, aged 
 ninety-three. 
 
 ^ A brother of the Cardinal, and himself Marquis of Massa. 
 
202 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 golden crowns, which his Excellency bestowed on me 
 in sign of his good-will, and afterwards I mnst return 
 to serve him. 
 
 I got the money from Niccolo, and then went to 
 fetch Tribolo, whom I found ready to start ; and he 
 asked me whether I had bound my sword. I answered 
 that a man on horseback about to take a journey ought 
 not to bind his sword. He said that the custom was 
 so in Florence, since a certain Ser Maurizio then held 
 office, who was capable of putting S. John the Baptist 
 to the rack for any trifling peccadillo.^ Accordingly 
 one had to carry one's sword bound till the gates were 
 passed. I laughed at this, and so we set oflF, joining 
 the courier to Venice, who was nicknamed II Lamen- 
 tone. In his company we travelled through Bologna, 
 and arrived one evening at Ferrara. There we halted 
 at the inn of the Piazza, while Lamentone went in 
 search of some Florentine exiles, to take them letters 
 and messages from their wives. The Duke had given 
 orders that only the courier might talk to them, and 
 no one else, under penalty of incurring the same ban- 
 ishment as they had. Meanwhile, since it was a little 
 past the hour of twenty-two, Tribolo and I went to see 
 the Duke of Ferrara come back from Belfiore, where he 
 had been at a jousting match. There we met a number 
 of exiles, who stared at us as though they wished to 
 make us speak with them. Tribolo, who was the most 
 timorous man that I have ever known, kept on saying : 
 " Do not look at them or talk to them, if you care to 
 go back to Florence." So we stayed, and saw the 
 Duke return ; afterwards, when we regained our inn, 
 
 1 Ser Maurizio was entitled Chancellor, but really superintended the 
 criminal magistracy of Florence. Varchi and Segni both speak of him 
 as harsh and cruel in the discharge of his office. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 203 
 
 we found Lamentone there. After nightfall there 
 appeared Niccolo Benintendi, and his brother Piero, 
 and another old man, whom I believe to have been 
 Jacopo Nardi,^ together with some young fellows, who 
 began immediately to ask the courier news, each man 
 of his own family in Florence.^ Tribolo and I kept at 
 a distance, in order to avoid speaking with them. 
 Afber they had talked a while with Lamentone, Niccolo 
 Benintendi^ said: "I know those two men there very 
 well; what's the reason they give themselves such 
 beastly airs, and will not talk to us ? " Tribolo kept 
 begging me to hold my tongue, while Lamentone told 
 them that we had not the same permission as he had. 
 Benintendi retorted it was idiotic nonsense, adding 
 " Pox take them," and other pretty flowers of speech. 
 Then I raised my head as gently as I could, and said : 
 " Dear gentlemen, you are able to do us serious injury, 
 while we cannot render you any assistance ; and though 
 you have flung words at us which we are far from 
 deserving, we do not mean on that account to get into 
 a rage with you." Thereupon old Nardi said that I 
 had spoken like a worthy young man as I was. But 
 Niccolo Benintendi sliouted : "I snap my fingers at 
 them and the Duke."^ I replied that he was in the 
 wrong toward us, since we had nothing to do with him 
 or his affairs. Old Nardi took our part, telling Benin- 
 tendi plainly that he was in the wrong, which made 
 him go on muttering insults. On this I bade him 
 
 1 Jacopo Nardi was the excellent historian of Florence, a strong 
 anti-Medicean partisan, who was exiled in 1530. 
 
 2 I have translated the word hrigata hy family above, because I find 
 Cellini in one of his letters alluding to his family as la mia brigatina. 
 
 ^ Niccolb Benintendi, who had been a member of the Eight in 1529, 
 was exiled by the Medici in 1530. 
 * The Florentine slang is Jo ho in culo loro e il duca. 
 
 *_g_^|^^^^g|^__. 
 
204 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 know that I could say and do things to him which he 
 would not like ; and therefore he had better mind his 
 business, and let us alone. Once more he cried out 
 that he snapped his fingers at the Duke and us, and 
 that we were all of us a heap of donkeys.-^ I replied 
 by giving him the lie direct and drawing my sword. 
 The old man wanting to be first upon the staircase, 
 tumbled down some steps, and all the rest of them 
 came huddling after him. I rushed onward, brandish- 
 ing my sword along the walls with fury, and shouting : 
 " I will kill you all ! " but I took good care not to do 
 them any harm, as I might too easily have done. In 
 the midst of this tumult the innkeeper screamed out ; 
 Lamentone cried, " For God's sake, hold ! " some of 
 them exclaimed, " Oh me, my head ! " others, " Let me 
 get out from here." In short, it was an indescribable 
 confusion ; they looked like a herd of swine. Then 
 the host came with a light, while I withdrew upstairs 
 and put my sword back in its scabbard. Lamentone 
 told Niccolo Benintendi that he had behaved very ill. 
 The host said to him : " It is as much as one's life is 
 worth to draw swords here ; and if the Duke were to 
 know of your brawling, he would have you hanged. I 
 will not do to you what you deserve ; but take care you 
 never show yourself again in my inn, or it will be the 
 worse for jon." Our host then came up to me, and 
 when I began to make him my excuses, he would not 
 sufier me to say a word, but told me that he knew I 
 was entirely in the right, and bade me be upon my 
 guard against those men upon my journey. 
 
 ^ Un monte di asini. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 205 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 After we bad supped, a barge-man appeared, and 
 offered to take us to Venice. I asked if be would let 
 us bave tbe boat to ourselves ; be was willing, and so 
 we made our bargain. In tbe morning we rose earl}', 
 and mounted our borses for tbe port, wbicb is a few 
 miles distant from Ferrara. On arriving tbere, we 
 found Niccolo Benintendi's brotber, witb tbree com- 
 rades, waiting for me. Tbey bad among tbem two 
 lances, and I bad bougbt a stout pike in Ferrara. 
 Being very well armed to boot, I was not at all 
 frigbtened, as Tribolo was, wbo cried : " God belp us ! 
 tbose fellows are waiting bere to murder us." Lameu- 
 tone turned to me and said : " Tbe best tbat you can 
 do is to go back to Ferrara, for I see tbat tbe affair is 
 likely to be ugly ; for Heaven's sake, Benvenuto, do 
 not risk tbe fury of tbese mad beasts." To wbicb I 
 replied: " Let us go forward, for God belps tbose wbo 
 bave tbe rigbt on tbeir side ; and you sball see bow I 
 will belp myself. Is not tbis boat engaged for us ? " 
 " Yes," said Lamentone. " Tben we will stay in it 
 witbout tbem, unless my manbood bas deserted ma" 
 I put spurs to my borse, and wben I was witbin fifty 
 paces, dismounted and marcbed boldly forward witb 
 my pike. Tribolo stopped bebind, all buddled up upon 
 bis borse, looking tbe very image of frost. Lamentone, 
 tbe courier, meanwbile, was swelling and snorting like 
 tbe wind. Tbat was bis usual babit ; but now be did 
 so more tban be was wont, being in doubt bow tbis 
 devilisb affair would terminate, Wben I reacbed tbe 
 boat, tbe master presented biraself and said tbat tbose 
 
2o6 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 Florentine gentlemen wanted to embark in it with us, 
 if I was willing. I answered : " The boat is engaged 
 for us and no one else, and it grieves me to the heart 
 that I am not able to have their company." At these 
 words a brave young man of the Magalotti family 
 spoke out : " Benvenuto, we will make you able to 
 have it." To which I answered : "If God and my 
 good cause, together with my own strength of body 
 and mind, possess the will and the power, you shall 
 not make me able to have what you say." So saying 
 I leapt into the boat, and turning my pike's point 
 against them, added : " I'll show you with this weapon 
 that I am not able." Wishing to prove he was in 
 earnest, Magalotti then seized his own and came to- 
 ward me. I sprang upon the gunwale and hit him 
 such a blow, that, if he had not tumbled backward, I 
 must have pierced his body. His comrades, in lieu of 
 helping him, turned to fly; and when I saw that I 
 could kill him, instead of striking, I said : " Get up, 
 brother ; take your arms and go away. I have shown 
 you that I cannot do what I do not want, and what I 
 had the power to do I have not chosen to do," Then 
 I called for Tribolo, the boatman, and Lamentone to 
 embark ; and so we got under way for Venice. When 
 we had gone ten miles on the Po, we sighted those 
 young men, who had got into a skiff and caught us 
 up ; and when they were alongside, that idiot Piero 
 Benintendi sang out to me : " Go thy ways this time, 
 Benvenuto ; we shall meet in Venice." " Set out be- 
 times then," I shouted, " for I am coming, and any 
 man can meet me where he lists." In due course we 
 arrived at Venice, when I applied to a brother of 
 Cardinal Oornaro, begging him to procure for me the 
 favour of being allowed to carry arms. He advised 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 207 
 
 me to do so without hesitation, saying that the worst 
 risk I ran was that I might lose my sword. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 Accordingly I girded on my sword, and went to 
 visit Jacopo del Sansovino, the sculptor, who had sent 
 for Tribolo. He received me most kindly, and invited 
 us to dinner, and we stayed with him. In course of 
 conversation with Tribolo, he told him that he had no 
 work to give him at the moment, but that he might 
 call again. Hearing this, I burst out laughing, and 
 said pleasantly to Sansovino : " Your house is too far 
 off from his, if he must call again." Poor Tribolo, all 
 in dismay, exclaimed: "I have got your letter here, 
 which you wrote to bid me come." Sansovino rejoined 
 that men of his sort, men of worth and genius, were 
 free to do that and greater things besides. Tribolo 
 shrugged up his shoulders and muttered : " Patience, 
 patience," several times. Thereupon, without regard- 
 ing the copious dinner which Sansovino had given me, 
 I took the part of my comrade Tribolo, for he was in 
 the right. All the while at table Sansovino had 
 never stopped chattering about his great achievements, 
 abusing Michel Agnolo and the rest of his fellow- 
 sculptors, while he bragged and vaunted himself to the 
 skies. This had so annoyed me that not a single 
 mouthful which I ate had tasted well ; but I refrained 
 from saying more than these two words : " Messer 
 Jacopo, men of worth act like men of worth, and men 
 of genius, who produce things beautiful and excellent, 
 shine forth far better when other people praise them 
 than when they boast so confidently of their own 
 
2o8 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 achievements." Upon this he and I rose from table 
 blowing off the steam of our choler. The same day, 
 happening to pass near the Rialto, I met Piero Benin- 
 tendi in the company of some men ; and perceiving 
 that they were going to pick a quarrel with me, I 
 turned into an apothecary's shop till the storm blew 
 over. Afterwards I learned that the young Magalotti, 
 to whom I showed that courtesy, had scolded them 
 roundly ; and thus the affair ended. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 A few days afterwards we set out on our return to 
 Florence. We lay one night at a place on this side 
 Chioggia, on the left hand as you go toward Ferrara. 
 Here the host insisted upon being paid before we went 
 to bed, and in his own way ; and when 1 observed that 
 it was the custom everywhere else to pay in the morn- 
 ing, he answered : " I insist on being paid overnight, 
 and in my own way." I retorted that men who wanted 
 everything their own way ought to make a world after 
 their own fashion, since things were differently managed 
 here. Our host told me not to go on bothering his 
 brains, because he was determined to do as he had 
 said. Tribolo stood trembling with fear, and nudged 
 me to keep quiet, lest they should do something worse 
 to us ; so we paid them in the way they wanted, and 
 afterwards we retired to rest. We had, I must admit, 
 the most capital beds, new in every particular, and as 
 clean as they could be. Nevertheless I did not get one 
 wink of sleep, because I kept on thinking how I could 
 revenge myself. At one time it came into my head to 
 set fire to his house ; at another to cut the throats of 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 209 
 
 four fine horses which he had in the stable. I saw well 
 enough that it was easy for me to do all this ; but I 
 could not see how it was easy to secure myself and my 
 companion. At last I resolved to put my things and 
 my comrade's on board the boat ; and so I did. When 
 the towing-horses had been harnessed to the cable, I 
 ordered the people not to stir before I returned, for I 
 had left a pair of slippers in my bedroom. Accordingly 
 I went back to the inn and called our host, who told me 
 he had nothing to do with us, and that we might go 
 to Jericho.^ There was a ragged stable-boy about, half 
 asleep, who cried out to me : " The master would not 
 move to please the Pope, because he has got a wench 
 in bed with him, whom he has been wanting this long 
 while." Then he asked me for a tip, and I gave him a 
 few Venetian coppers, and told him to make the barge- 
 man wait till I had found my slippers and returned. 
 I went upstairs, took out a little knife as sharp as a 
 razor, and cut the four beds that I found there into 
 ribbons. I had the satisfaction of knowing I had done 
 a damage of more than fifty crowns. Then I ran down 
 to the boat with some pieces of the bed-covers ^ in my 
 pouch, and bade the bargee start at once without delay. 
 We had not gone far before my gossip Tribolo said 
 that he had left behind some little straps belonging to 
 his carpet-bag, and that he must be allowed to go back 
 for them. I answered that he need not take thought 
 for a pair of little straps, since I could make him as 
 many big ones as he liked.^ He told me I was always 
 joking, but that he must really go back for his straps. 
 
 ^ E che noi andassimo al hordcUo. 
 
 2 Sarge. Saryia is interpreted sopraccoperta del letto. 
 
 3 The Italian for straps, corcgge, has a double meaning, upon which 
 Cellini plays. 
 
 VOL. I. O 
 
 •*• - A* ^ - Y ,^ ,»! 
 
2IO LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 Then he began ordering the bargee to stop, while I 
 kept ordering him to go on. Meanwhile I informed 
 my friend what kind of trick I had played our host, 
 and showed him specimens of the bed-covers and other 
 things, which threw him into such a quaking fright 
 that he roared out to the bargee : " On with you, on 
 with you, as quick as you can ! " and never thought 
 himself quite safe until we reached the gates of 
 Florence. 
 
 When we arrived there, Tribolo said : " Let us bind 
 our swords up, for the love of God ; and play me no 
 more of your games, I beg ; for all this while I've felt 
 as though my guts were in the saucepan." I made 
 answer : " Gossip Tribolo, you need not tie your sword 
 up, for you have never loosed it ; and this I said at 
 random, because I never once had seen him act the 
 man upon that journey. When he heard the remark, 
 he looked at his sword and cried out : " In God's name, 
 you speak true! Here it is tied, just as I arranged it 
 before I left my house." My gossip deemed that I 
 had been a bad travelling companion to him, because I 
 resented affronts and defended myself against folk who 
 would have done us injury. But I deemed that he had 
 acted a far worse part with regard to me by never com- 
 ing to my assistance at such pinches. Let him judge 
 between us who stands by and has no personal interest 
 in our adventures. 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 No sooner had I dismounted than I went to visit 
 Duke Alessandro, and thanked him greatly for his 
 present of the fifty crowns, telling his Excellency that 
 I was always ready to serve him according to my 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 211 
 
 abilities. He gave me orders at once to strike dies 
 for his coinage ; and the first I made was a piece of 
 forty soldi, with the Duke's head on one side and San 
 Cosimo and San Daraiano on the other.i This was in 
 silver, and it gave so much satisfaction that the Duke 
 did not hesitate to say they were the best pieces of 
 money in Christendom. The same said all Florence 
 and every one who saw them. Consequently I asked 
 his Excellency to make me appointments,^ and to grant 
 me the lodgings of the Mint. He bade me remain in 
 his service, and promised he would give me more than 
 I demanded. Meanwhile he said he had commissioned 
 the Master of the Mint, a certain Carlo Acciaiuoli, and 
 that I might go to him for all the money that I wanted. 
 This I found to be true ; but I drew my monies so 
 discreetly, that I had always something to my credit, 
 according to my account. 
 
 I then made dies for a giulio/'^ it had San Giovanni 
 in profile, seated with a book in his hand, finer in my 
 judgment than anything which I had done; and on 
 the other side were the armorial bearings of Duke 
 Alessandro. Next I made dies for half-giulios, on 
 which I struck the full face of San Giovanni in small. 
 This was the first coin with a head in fall face on so 
 thin a piece of silver that had yet been seen. The 
 difficulty of executing it is apparent only to the eyes of 
 such as are past-masters in these crafts. Afterwards 
 I made dies for the golden crowns ; this crown had a 
 
 ^ These were the special patrons of tlie Medicean family, being phy- 
 sician-saints. 
 
 ^ Che mi fermassi una provvisione. 
 
 ^ The giulio was a coin of 56 Italian centimes or 8 Tuscan crazle, 
 which in Florence was also called harile or gabellotto, because the sum 
 had to be paid as duty on a barrel of wine. 
 
212 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 cross upon one side with some little cherubim, and on 
 the other side his Excellency's arms. 
 
 When I had struck these four sorts, I begged the 
 Duke to make out my appointments and to assign me 
 the lodgings I have mentioned, if he was contented 
 with my service. He told me very graciously that he 
 was quite satisfied, and that he would grant me my 
 request. While we were thus talking, his Excellency 
 was in his wardrobe, looking at a remarkable little gun 
 that had been sent him out of Germany.^ When he 
 noticed that I too paid particular attention to this 
 pretty instrument, he put it in my hands, saying that 
 he knew how much pleasure I took in such things, and 
 adding that I might choose for earnest of his promises 
 an arquebuse to my own liking from the armoury, 
 excepting only this one piece ; he was well aware that 
 I should find things of greater beauty, and not less 
 excellent, there. Upon this invitation, I accepted with 
 thanks; and when he saw me looking round, he ordered 
 his Master of the Wardrobe, a certain Pretino of Lucca, 
 to let me take whatever I liked.^ Then he went away 
 with the most pleasant words at parting, while I re- 
 mained, and chose the finest and best arquebuse I ever 
 saw, or ever had, and took it back with me to home. 
 
 Two days afterward I brought some drawings which 
 his Excellency had commissioned for gold-work he 
 wanted to give his wife, who was at that time still in 
 Naples.^ I again asked him to settle my afiairs. Then 
 his Excellency told me that he should like me first to 
 execute the die of his portrait in fine style, as I li«.d 
 
 1 See above, p. 1 6 1, for the right meaning of wardrobe. 
 ^ Messer Francesco of Lucca, surnamed II Pretino. 
 3 Margaret of Austria, natural daughter to Charles V., was eventually 
 married in 1 536 to Alessandro de' Medici. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 213 
 
 done for Pope Clement. I began it in wax ; and the 
 Duke gave orders, while I was at work upon it, that 
 whenever I went to take his portrait, I should be 
 admitted. Perceiving that I had a lengthy piece of 
 business on my hands, I sent for a certain PietroPagolo 
 from Monte Bitondo, in the Roman district, who had 
 been with me from his boyhood in Rome.^ I found 
 him with one Bernardonaccio," a goldsmith, who did 
 not treat him well ; so I brought him away from there, 
 and taught him minutely how to strike coins from those 
 dies. Meanwhile, I went on making the Duke's por- 
 trait ; and oftentimes I found him napping after dinner 
 with that Lorenzino of his, who afterwards murdered 
 him, and no other company ; and much I marvelled 
 that a Duke of that sort showed such confidence about 
 his safety.^ 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 It happened at this time that Ottaviano de' Medici,* 
 who to all appearances had got the government of 
 everything in his own hands, favoured the old Master 
 of the Llint against the Duke's will. This man was 
 called Bastiano Cennini, an artist of the antiquated 
 
 ^ Pietro Pagolo Galleotti, much praised by Vasari for his artistic 
 skill. 
 
 ^ Perhaps Bernardo Sabatini. 
 
 3 This is the famous Tuscan Brutus who murdered Alessandro. He 
 was descended from Lorenzo de' Medici, the brother of Cosimo, Pater 
 Patrice, and the uncle of Lorenzo the Magnificent. 
 
 * This Ottaviano was not descended from either Cosimo or Lorenzo 
 de' Medici, but from an elder, though less illustrious, branch of the 
 great family. He married Francesca Salviati, the axmt of Duke 
 Cosimo. Though a great patron of the arts and an intimate friend of 
 M. A. Buonarroti, he was not popular, owing to his pride of place. 
 
214 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 scliool, and of little skill in his craft.^ Ottaviano 
 mixed his stupid dies with mine in the coinage of crown- 
 pieces. I complained of this to the Duke, who, when 
 he saw how the matter stood, took it very ill, and said 
 to me : '' Go, tell this to Ottaviano de' Medici, and 
 show him how it is." ^ I lost no time ; and when I had 
 pointed out the injury that had been done to my fine 
 coins, he answered, like the donkey that he was : "We 
 choose to have it so." I replied that it ought not to 
 be so, and that I did not choose to have it so. He 
 said : " And if the Duke likes to have it so ? " I 
 answered : " It would not suit me, for the thing is 
 neither just nor reasonable." He told me to take 
 myself off, and that I should have to swallow it in this 
 way, even if I burst. Then I returned to the Duke, 
 and related the whole unpleasant conversation between 
 Ottaviano de' Medici and me, entreating his Excellency 
 not to allow the fine coins which I had made for him to 
 be spoiled, and begging for permission to leave Florence. 
 He replied : " Ottaviano is too presuming ; you shall 
 have what you want ; for this is an injury offered to 
 myself." 
 
 That very day, which was a Thursday, I received 
 from Rome a full safe-conduct from the Pope, with advice 
 to go there at once and get the pardon of Our Lady's 
 feast in mid- August, in order that I might clear myself 
 from the penalties attaching to my homicide. I went 
 to the Duke, whom I found in bed, for they told me he 
 was suffering the consequence of a debauch. In little 
 more than two hours I finished what was wanted for 
 his waxen medal ; and when I showed it him, it pleased 
 him extremely. Then I exhibited the safe-conduct 
 
 1 Cellini praises this man, however, in the preface to the Oreftcerla. 
 - Mostragnene. This is perhaps equivalent to mostrcyjUelo, 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 2IS 
 
 sent me at the order of the Pope, and told him how his 
 Holiness had recalled me to execute certain pieces of 
 work ; on this account I should like to regain my 
 footing in the fair city of Eome, which would not 
 prevent my attending to his medal. The Duke made 
 answer half in anger: " Benvenuto, do as I desire: 
 stay here ; I will provide for your appointments, and 
 will give you the lodgings in the Mint, with much 
 more than you could ask for, because your requests are 
 only just and reasonable. And who do you think will 
 be able to strike the beautiful dies which you have 
 made for me ? " Then I said : " My lord, I have 
 thought of everything, for I have here a pupil of mine, 
 a young Roman whom I have taught the art ; he will 
 serve your Excellency very well till I return with your 
 medal finished, to remain for ever in your service. I 
 have in Rome a shop open, with journeymen and a 
 pretty business; as soon as I have got my pardon, I 
 will leave all the devotion of Rome ^ to a pupil of mine 
 there, and will come back, with your Excellency's good 
 permission, to you." During this conversation, the 
 Lorenzino de' Medici whom I have above mentioned 
 was present, and no one else. The Duke frequently 
 signed to him that he should join in pressing me to 
 stay ; but Lorenzino never said anything except : 
 •" Benvenuto, you would do better to remain where 
 you are." I answered that I wanted by all means to 
 regain my hold on Rome. He made no reply, but 
 continued eyeing the Duke with very evil glances. 
 When I had finished the medal to my liking, and shut 
 it in its little box, I said to the Duke : " My lord, pray 
 
 ' Tutta la divozione di Roma. It is not very clear what this exactly 
 means. Perhaps " all the affection and reverence I have for the city 
 of Rome," or merely " all my .ties in Rome." 
 
2l6 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 let me have your good-will, for I will make you a 
 much finer medal than the one I made for Pope 
 Clement. It is only reasonable that I should, since 
 that was the first I ever made. Messer Lorenzo here 
 will give me some exquisite reverse, as he is a person 
 learned and of the greatest genius." To these words 
 Lorenzo suddenly made answer : " I have been thinking 
 of nothing else but how to give you a reverse worthy 
 of his Excellency." The Duke laughed a little, and 
 looking at Lorenzo, said: "Lorenzo, you shall give 
 him the reverse, and he shall do it here and shall not 
 go away." Lorenzo took him up at once, saying : " I 
 will do it as quickly as I can, and I hope to do some- 
 thing that shall make the whole world wonder." The 
 Duke, who held him sometimes for a fool -and sometimes 
 for a coward, turned about in bed, and laughed at his 
 bragging words. I took my leave without further 
 ceremony, and left them alone together. The Duke, 
 who did not believe that I was really going, said 
 nothing further. Afterwards, when he knew that I 
 was gone, he sent one of his servants, who caught me 
 up at Siena, and gave me fifty golden ducats with a 
 message from the Duke that I should take and use 
 them for his sake, and should return as soon as possible ; 
 " and from Messer Lorenzo I have to tell you that he 
 is preparing an admirable reverse for that medal which 
 you want to make." I had left full directions to 
 Petro Pagolo, the Eoman above mentioned, how he 
 had to use the dies ; but as it was a very delicate 
 affair, he never quite succeeded in employing them. 
 I remained creditor to the Mint in a matter of 
 more than seventy crowns on account of dies supplied 
 by me. 
 
 *#!§' 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 217 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 On the journey to Eome I carried with me that 
 handsome arquebuse which the Duke gave me ; and 
 very much to my own pleasure, I used it several times 
 by the way, performing incredible feats by means of it. 
 The little house I had in Strada Giulia was not ready ; 
 so I dismounted at the house of Messer Giovanni Gaddi, 
 clerk of the Camera, to whose keeping I had committed, 
 on leaving Ilome, many of my arms and other things I 
 cared for. So I did not choose to alight at my shop, 
 but sent for Felice, my partner, and got him to put my 
 little dwelling forthwith into excellent order. The day 
 following, I went to sleep there, after well providing 
 myself with clothes and all things requisite, since I 
 intended to go and thank the Pope next morning. 
 
 I had two young serving - lads, and beneath my 
 lodgings lived a laundress who cooked extremely nicely 
 for me. That evening I entertained several friends at 
 supper, and having passed the time with great enjoy- 
 ment, betook myself, to bed. The night had hardly 
 ended, indeed it was more than an hour before day- 
 break, when I heard a furious knocking at the house- 
 door, stroke succeeding stroke without a moment's 
 pause. Accordingly I called my elder servant, Cencio ^ 
 (he was the man I took into the necromantic circle), 
 and bade him go and see who the madman was that 
 knocked so brutally at that hour of the night. While 
 Cencio was on this errand, I lighted another lamp, for 
 I always keep one by me at night ; then I made haste 
 to pass an excellent coat of mail over my shirt, and 
 above that some clothes which I caught up at random. 
 
 ^ i.e., Vincenzio Romoli. 
 
 '■'■ \ '' '!;-.*'".'"' ^.'-^ .-V'"^"-'^ "■ ■-*'"^t<? r^'r^-^^sv '"■'^ »• '■'i'' 
 
 -MA: 
 
:i8 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLIKI. 
 
 Cenico returned, exclaiming : " Heavens, master ! it is 
 the Bargello and all his guard ; and he says that if you 
 do not open at once, he will knock the door down. 
 They have torches, and a thousand things besides with 
 them ! " I answered : " Tell them that I am huddling 
 my clothes on, and will come out to them in my shirt." 
 Supposing it was a trap laid to murder me, as had before 
 been done by Signor Pier Luigi, I seized an excellent 
 dagger with my right hand, and with the left I took 
 the safe-conduct; then I ran to the back-window, which 
 looked out on gardens, and there I saw more than thirty 
 constables ; wherefore I knew that I could not escape 
 upon that side. I made the two lads go in front, and 
 told them to open the door exactly when I gave the 
 word to do so. Then taking up an attitude of defence, 
 with the dagger in my right hand and the safe-conduct 
 in my left, I cried to the lads : " Have no fear, but 
 open ! " The Bargello, Vittorio, and the officers sprang 
 inside at once, thinking they could easily lay hands 
 upon me ; but when they saw me prepared in that way 
 to receive them, they fell back, exclaiming : " We have 
 a serious job on hand here ! " Then I threw the safe- 
 conduct to them, and said : " Eead that ! and since 
 you cannot seize me, I do not mean that you shall 
 touch me." The Bargello upon this ordered some of 
 his men to arrest me, saying he would look to the 
 safe -conduct later. Thereat I presented my arms 
 boldly, calling aloud : " Let God defend the right ! 
 Either I shall escape your hands alive, or be taken a 
 dead corpse ! " The room was crammed with men ; 
 they made as though they would resort to violence ; I 
 stood upon my guard against them ; so that the Bargello 
 saw he would not be able to have me except in the way 
 I said. Accordingly he called his clerk, and while the 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 219 
 
 safe-conduct was being read, lie showed by signs two or 
 three times that he meant to have me secured by his 
 officers ; but this had no effect of shaking my deter- 
 mination. At last they gave up the attempt, threw my 
 safe-conduct on the ground, and went away without 
 their prize. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 When I returned to bed, I felt so agitated that I 
 could not get to sleep again. My mind was made up 
 to let blood as soon as day broke. However, I asked 
 advice of Messer Gaddi, and he referred to a wretched 
 doctor-fellow he employed,^ who asked me if I had been 
 frightened. Now, just consider what a judicious doctor 
 this was, after I had narrated an occurrence of that 
 gravity, to ask me such a question ! He was an empty 
 fribbler, who kept perpetually laughing about nothing 
 at all. Simpering and sniggering, then, he bade me 
 drink a good cup of Greek wine^ keep my spirits up, 
 and not be frightened. Messer Giovanni, however, said : 
 " Master, a man of bronze or marble might be frightened 
 in such circumstances. How much more one of flesh and 
 blood ! ''' The quack responded : " Monsignor, we are 
 not all made after the same pattern ; this fellow is no 
 man of bronze or marble, but of pure iron." Then he 
 gave one of his meaningless laughs, and putting his 
 fingers on my wrist, said : " Feel here ; this is not a 
 man's pulse, but a lion's or a dragon's." At this, I, 
 whose blood was thumping in my veins, probably far 
 beyond anything which that fool of a doctor had learned 
 from his Hippocrates or Galen, knew at once how serious 
 was my situation ; yet, wishing not to add to my uneasi- 
 
 ^ Possibly Bernardino Lilii of Todi. 
 
220 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 ness aud to the harm I had already taken, I made show 
 of being in good spirits. While this was happening, 
 Messer Giovanni had ordered dinner, and we all of us 
 sat down to eat in company. I remember that Messer 
 Lodovico da Fano, Messer Antonio Allegretti, Messer 
 Giovanni Greco, all of them men of the finest scholar- 
 ship, and Messer Annibal Caro, who was then quite 
 young, were present. At table the conversation turned 
 entirely upon my act of daring. They insisted on 
 hearing the whole story over and over again from my 
 apprentice Cencio, who was a youth of superlative 
 talent, bravery, and extreme personal beauty. Each 
 time that he described my truculent behaviour, throw- 
 inc; himself into the attitudes I had assumed, and 
 repeating the words which I had used, he called up 
 some fresh detail to my memory. They kept asking 
 him if he had been afraid ; to which he answered that 
 they ought to ask me if I had been afraid, because he 
 felt precisely the same as I had. 
 
 All this chattering grew irksome to me ; and since I 
 still felt strongly agitated, I rose at last from table, 
 saying that I wanted to go and get new clothes of blue 
 silk and stuff for him and me ; adding that I meant to 
 walk in procession after four days at the feast of Our 
 Lady, and meant Cencio to carry a white lighted torch 
 on the occasion. Accordingly I took my leave, and had 
 the blue cloth cut, together with a handsome jacket of 
 blue sarcenet and a little doublet of the same ; and I 
 had a similar jacket and waistcoat made for Cencio. 
 
 When these things had been cut out, I went to see 
 the Pope, who told me to speak with Messer Ambruogio ; 
 for he had given orders that I should execute a large 
 piece of golden plate. So I went to find Messer 
 Ambruogio, who had heard the whole of the affair of 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 22 1 
 
 the Bargello, and had been in concert with my enemies 
 to bring me back to Rome, and had scolded the Bargello 
 for not laying hands on me. The man excused himself 
 by saying that he could not do so in the face of the 
 safe-conduct which I held. Messer Ambruogio now 
 began to talk about the Pope's commission, and bade 
 me make drawings for it, saying that the business 
 should be put at once in train. Meanwhile the feast 
 of Our Lady came round. Now it is the custom for 
 those who get a pardon upon this occasion to give 
 themselves up to prison ; in order to avoid doing which 
 I returned to the Pope, and told his Holiness that I was 
 very unwilling to go to prison, and that I begged him 
 to grant me the favour of a dispensation. The Pope 
 answered that such was the custom, and that I must 
 follow it. Thereupon I fell again upon my knees, and 
 thanked him for the safe-conduct he had given me, 
 saying at the same time that I should go back with it 
 to serve my Duke in Florence, who was waiting for me 
 so impatiently. On hearing this, the Pope turned to 
 one of his confidential servants and said : " Let 
 Benvenuto get his grace without the prison, and see 
 that his moto 'proprio is made out in due form." As 
 soon as the document had been drawn up, his Holiness 
 signed it ; it was then registered at the Capitol ; after- 
 wards, upon the day appointed, I walked in procession 
 very honourably between two gentlemen, and so got 
 clear at last. 
 
 Lxxxiy. 
 
 Four days had passed when I was attacked with 
 violent fever attended by extreme cold ; and taking to 
 my bed, I made mv mind up that I was sure to die. 
 
222 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 I had the first doctors of Rome called in, among whom 
 was Francesco da Norcia, a physician of great age, 
 and of the best repute in Rome/ I told them what I 
 believed to be the cause of my illness, and said that I 
 had wished to let blood, but that I had been advised 
 against it ; and if it was not too late, I begged them to 
 bleed me now. Maestro Francesco answered that it 
 would not be well for rae to let blood then, but that if 
 I had done so before, I should have escaped without 
 mischief; at present they would have to treat the case 
 with other remedies. So they began to doctor me as 
 energetically as they were able, while I grew daily 
 worse and worse so rapidly, that after eight days the 
 physicians despaired of my life, and said that I might 
 be indulged in any whim I had to make me comfortable. 
 Maestro Francesco added : "As long as there is breath 
 in him, call me at all hours; for no one can divine 
 what Nature is able to work in a young. man of this 
 kind ; moreover, if he should lose consciousness, admini- 
 ster these five remedies one after the other, and send for 
 me, for I will come at any hour of the night ; I would 
 rather save him than any of the cardinals in Rome." 
 
 Every day Messer Giovanni Gaddi came to see me 
 two or three times, and each time he took up one or 
 other of my handsome fowling-pieces, coats of mail, or 
 swords, using words like these : " That is a handsome 
 thing, that other is still handsomer ; " and likewise with 
 my models and other trifles, so that at last he drove me 
 wild with annoyance. In his company came a certain 
 Mattio Franzesi ; ^ and this man also appeared to be 
 
 1 Francesco Fusconi, physician to Popes Adrian VI., Clement VII., 
 and Paul III. " 
 
 ^ Franzesi was a clever Italian poet. His burlesque Capitoli are 
 printed with those of Berni and others. 
 
EOOK FIRST. 
 
 waiting impatiently for my death, not indeed because 
 he would inherit anything from me, but because he 
 wished for what his master seemed to have so much at 
 heart. 
 
 Felice, my partner, was always at my side, rendering 
 the greatest services which it is possible for one man 
 to give another. Nature in me was utterly debilitated 
 and undone ; I had not strength enough to fetch my 
 breath back if it left me ; and yet my brain remained 
 as clear and strong as it had been before my illness. 
 Nevertheless, although I kept my consciousness, a 
 terrible old man used to come to my bedside, and make 
 as though he would drag me by force into a huge boat 
 he had with him. This made me call out to my Felice 
 to draw near and chase that malignant old man away. 
 Felice, who loved me most affectionately, ran weeping 
 and crying : " Away with you, old traitor ; you are rob- 
 bing me of all the good I have in this world." Messer 
 Giovanni Gaddi, who was present, then began to say : 
 " The poor fellow is delirious, and has only a few hours 
 to live." His fellow, Mattio Franzesi, remarked : " He 
 has read Dante, and in the prostration of his sickness 
 this apparition has appeared to him : " ^ then he added 
 laughingly : " Away with you, old rascal, and don't 
 bother our friend Benvenuto." When I saw that they 
 were making fun of me, I turned to Messer Gaddi and 
 said : " My dear master, know that I am not raving, 
 and that it is true that this old man is really giving 
 me annoyance; but the best that you can do for me 
 would be to drive that miserable Mattio from my side, 
 who is laughing at my affliction; afterwards if your 
 lordship deigns to visit me again, let me beg you to 
 come with Messer Antonio Allegretti, or with Messer 
 ^ Inferno, iii., the verses about Charon. 
 
224 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 Annibal Caro, or with some other of your accomplished 
 friends, who are persons of quite different intelligence 
 and discretion from that beast." Thereupon Messer 
 Giovanni told Mattio in jest to take himself out of his 
 sight for ever ; but because Mattio went on laughing, 
 the joke turned to earnest, for Messer Giovanni would 
 not look upon him again, but sent for Messer Antonio 
 Allegretti, Messer Ludovico, and Messer Annibal Caro. 
 On the arrival of these worthy men, I was greatly com- 
 forted, and talked reasonably with them awhile, not 
 however without frequently urging Felice to drive the 
 old man away. Messer Ludovico asked me what it was 
 I seemed to see, and how the man was shaped. While 
 I portrayed him accurately in words, the old man took 
 me by the arm and dragged me violently towards him. 
 This made me cry out for aid, because he was going to 
 fling me under hatches in his hideous boat. On saying 
 that last word, I fell into a terrible swoon, and seemed 
 to be sinking down into the boat. They say that during 
 that fainting-fit I flung myself about and cast bad 
 words at Messer Giovanni Gaddi, to wit, that he came 
 to rob me, and not from any motive of charity, and 
 other insults of the kind, which caused him to be much 
 ashamed. Later on, they say I lay still like one dead ; 
 and after waiting by me more than an hour, thinking 
 I was growing cold, they left me for dead. When they 
 returned home, Mattio Franzesi was informed, who 
 wrote to Florence to Messer Benedetto Varchi, my 
 very dear friend, that they had seen me die at such and 
 such an hour of the night. When he heard the news, 
 that most accomplished man and my dear friend com- 
 posed an admirable sonnet upon my supposed but not 
 real death, which shall be reported in its proper place. 
 More than three long hours passed, and yet I did 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 not regain consciousness. Felice having used all the 
 remedies prescribed by Maestro Francesco, and seeing 
 that I did not come to, ran post-haste to the physician's 
 door, and knocked so loudly that he woke him up, and 
 made him rise, and begged him with tears to come to 
 the house, for he thought that I was dead. Whereto 
 ]\Iaestro Francesco, who was a very choleric man, 
 replied : " My son, of what use do you think I should 
 be if I came ? If he is dead, I am more sorry than you 
 are. Do you imagine that if I were to come with my 
 medicine I could blow breath up through his guts^ 
 and bring him back to life for you ? " But when he saw 
 that the poor young fellow was going away weeping, 
 he called him back and gave him an oil with which to 
 anoint my pulses and my heart, telling him to pinch 
 my little fingers and toes very tightly, and to send at 
 once to call him if I should revive. Felice took his 
 way, and did as Maestro Francesco had ordered. It 
 was almost bright day when, thinking they would have 
 to abandon hope, they gave orders to have my shroud 
 made and to wash me. Suddenly I regained conscious- 
 ness, and called out to Felice to drive away the old 
 man on the moment, who kept tormenting me. He 
 wanted to send for Maestro Francesco, but I told him 
 not to do so, but to come close up to me, because that 
 old man was afraid of him and went away at once. So 
 Felice drew near to the bed; I touched him, and it 
 seemed to me that the infuriated old man withdrew ; 
 so I prayed him not to leave me for a second. 
 
 When Maestro Francesco appeared, he said it was 
 
 his dearest wish to save my life, and that he had never 
 
 in all his days seen greater force in a young man than 
 
 I had. Then he sat down to write, and prescribed for 
 
 ^ lo gli possa soffiare in ciilo. 
 
 VOL. I. P 
 
226 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 me perfumes, lotions, unctions, plasters, and a heap of 
 other precious things. Meanwhile I came to life again 
 by the means of more than twenty leeches applied to 
 my buttocks, but with my body bored through, bound, 
 and ground to powder. Many of my friends crowded 
 in to behold the miracle of the resuscitated dead man, 
 and among them people of the first importance. 
 
 In their presence I declared that the small amount 
 of gold and money I possessed, perhaps some eight 
 hundred crowns, what with gold, silver, jewels, and 
 cash, should be given by my will to my poor sister in 
 Florence, called Mona Liperata ; all the remainder of 
 my property, armour and everything besides, I left to 
 my dearest Felice, together with fifty golden ducats, in 
 order that he might buy mourning. At those words 
 Felice flung his arms around my neck, protesting that 
 he wanted nothing but to have me as he wished alive 
 with him. Then I said : " If you want me alive, touch 
 me as you did before, and threaten the old man, for he 
 is afraid of you." At these words some of the folk were 
 terrified, knowing that I was not raving, but talking to 
 the purpose and with all my wits. Thus my wretched 
 malady went dragging on, and I got but little better. 
 Maestro Francesco, that most excellent man, came four 
 or five times a day ; Messer Giovanni Gaddi, who felt 
 ashamed, did not visit me again. My brother-in-law, 
 the husband of my sister, arrived ; he came from 
 Florence for the inheritance; but as he was a very 
 worthy man, he rejoiced exceedingly to have found me 
 alive. The sight of him did me a world of good, and 
 he began to caress me at once, saying he had only 
 come to take care of me in person ; and this he did for 
 several days. Afterwards I sent him away, having 
 almost certain hope of my recovery. On this occasion 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 227 
 
 he left the sonnet of Messer Benedetto Varchi, which 
 runs as follows : ^ — 
 
 "Who shall, Mattio, yield our pain relief? 
 
 Who shall forbid the sad expense of tears ? 
 Alas ! 'tis true that in his youthful years 
 Our friend hath flown, and left us here to grief. 
 
 He hath gone up to heaven, who was the chief 
 Of men renowned in art's immortal spheres ; 
 Among the mighty dead he had no peers, 
 
 Nor shall earth see his like, in my belief. 
 
 gentle sprite ! if love still sway the blest, 
 
 Look down on him thou here didst love, and view 
 These tears that mourn my loss, not thy great good. 
 
 There dost thou gaze on His beatitude 
 Who made our universe, and findest true 
 The foi-m of Him thy skill for men expressed." 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 My sickness had been of such a very serious nature 
 that it seemed impossible for me to fling it off. That 
 worthy man Maestro Francesco da Norcia redoubled 
 his efforts, and brought me every day fresh remedies, 
 trying to restore strength to my miserable unstrung 
 frame. Yet all these endeavours were apparently in- 
 sufficient to overcome the obstinacy of my malady, so 
 
 1 This sonnet is so insipid, so untrue to Cellini's real place in art, so 
 false to the far from saintly character of the man, that I would rather 
 have declined translating it, had I not observed it to be a good example 
 of that technical and conventional insincerity which was invading Italy 
 at this epoch. Varchi was really sorry to hear the news of Cellini's 
 death ; but for his genuine emotion he found spurious vehicles of utter- 
 ance. Cellini, meanwhile, had a right to prize it, since it revealed to 
 him what friendship was prepared to utter after his decease. 
 
228 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 that the physicians were in despair and at their wits' 
 ends what to do. I was tormented by thirst, but had 
 abstained from drinking for many days according to 
 the doctors' orders. Felice, who thought he had done 
 wonders in restoring me, never left my side. That old 
 man ceased to give so much annoyance, yet sometimes 
 he appeared to me in dreams. 
 
 One day Felice had gone out of doors, leaving me 
 under the care of a young apprentice and a servant- 
 maid called Beatrice. I asked the apprentice what had 
 become of my lad Oencio, and what was the reason why 
 I had never seen him in attendance on me. The boy 
 replied that Cencio had been far more ill than I was 
 and that he was even at death's door. Felice had given 
 them orders not to speak to me of this. On hearing 
 the news, I was exceedingly distressed ; then I called 
 the maid Beatrice, a Pistojan girl, and asked her to 
 bring me a great crystal water-cooler which stood near 
 full of clear and fresh water. She ran at once, and 
 brought it to me full ; I told her to put it to my lips, 
 adding that if she let me take a draught according to 
 my heart's content, I would give her a new gown. 
 This maid had stolen from me certain little thino-s of 
 some importance, and in her fear of being detected, she 
 would have been very glad if I had died. Accordingly 
 she allowed me twice to take as much as I could of the 
 water, so that in good earnest I swallowed more than a 
 flask full.i I then covered myself, and began to sweat, 
 and fell into a deep sleep. After I had slept about an 
 hour, Felice came home and asked the boy how I was 
 getting on. He answered : " I do not know. Beatrice 
 brought him that cooler full of water, and he has drunk 
 almost the whole of it. I don't know now whether he 
 ^ Un fiasco, holding more than a quart. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 229 
 
 is alive or dead." They say that my poor friend was on 
 the point of falling to the ground, so grieved was he to 
 hear this. Afterwards he took an ugly stick and began 
 to beat the serving-girl with all his might, shouting 
 out : " Ah ! traitress, you have killed him for me 
 then ? " While Felice was cudgelling and she scream- 
 ing, I was in a dream ; I thought the old man held 
 ropes in his hand, and while he was preparing to bind 
 me, Felice had arrived and struck him with an axe, so 
 that the old man fled exclaiming : " Let me go, and I 
 promise not to return for a long while." Beatrice in 
 the meantime had run into my bedroom shrieking 
 loudly. This woke me up, and I called out : " Leave 
 her alone ; perhaps, when she meant to do me harm, 
 she did me more good than you were able to do with 
 all your efforts. She may indeed have saved my life ; 
 so lend me a helping hand, for I have sweated; and 
 be quick about it." Felice recovered his spirits, dried 
 and made me comfortable ; and I, being conscious of 
 a great improvement in my state, began to reckon on 
 recovery. 
 
 When Maestro Francesco appeared and saw my great 
 improvement, and the servant-girl in tears, and the 
 prentice running to and fro, and Felice laughing, all 
 this disturbance made him think that something extra- 
 ordinary must have happened, which had been the 
 cause of my amendment. Just then the other doctor, 
 Bernardino, put in his appearance, who at the begin- 
 ning of my illness had refused to bleed me. Maestro 
 Francesco, that most able man, exclaimed: "Oh, power 
 of Nature ! She knows what she requires, and the 
 physicians know nothing." That simpleton, Maestro 
 Bernardino, made answer, saying : " If he had drunk 
 another bottle he would have been cured upon the 
 
230 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 spot." Maestro Francesco da Norcia, a man of age 
 and great authority, said : " That would have been a 
 terrible misfortune, and would to God that it may fall 
 on you ! " Afterwards he turned to me and asked if 
 I could have drunk more water. I answered : " No, 
 because I had entirely quenched my thirst." Then he 
 turned to Maestro Bernardino, and said : " Look you 
 how Nature has taken precisely what she wanted, 
 neither more nor less. In like manner she was asking 
 for what she wanted when the poor young man begged 
 you to bleed him. If you knew that his recovery 
 depended upon his drinking two flasks of water, why 
 did you not say so before ? You might then have 
 boasted of his cure." At these words the wretched 
 quack sulkily departed, and never showed his face 
 again. 
 
 Maestro Francesco then gave orders that I should be 
 removed from my room and carried to one of the hills 
 there are in Rome. Cardinal Cornaro, when he heard 
 of my improvement, had me transported to a place of 
 his on Monte Oavallo. That very evening I was taken 
 with great precautions in a chair, well wrapped up and 
 protected from the cold. No sooner had I reached the 
 place than I began to vomit, during which there came 
 from my stomach a hairy worm about a quarter of a cubit 
 in length : the hairs were long, and the worm was very 
 ugly, speckled of divers colours, green, black, and red. 
 They kept and showed it to the doctor, who said he 
 had never seen anything of the sort before, and after- 
 wards remarked to Felice : " Now take care of your 
 Benvenuto, for he is cured. Do not permit him any 
 irregularities ; for though he has escaped this time, 
 another disorder now would be the death of him. You 
 see his malady has been so grave, that if we had 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 231 
 
 brought him the extreme unction, we might not have 
 been in time. Now I know that with a little patience 
 and time he will live to execute more of his fine works." 
 Then he turned to me and said : " My Benvenuto, be 
 prudent, commit no excesses, and when you are quite 
 recovered, I beg you to make me a Madonna with your 
 own hand, and I will always pay my devotions to it for 
 your sake." This I promised to do, and then asked 
 him whether it would be safe for me to travel so far as 
 to Florence. He advised me to wait till I was stronger, 
 and till we could observe how Nature worked in me. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 When eight days had come and gone, my amendment 
 was so slight that life itself became almost a burden to 
 me ; indeed I had been more than fifty days in that 
 great suffering. So I made my mind up, and prepared 
 to travel. My dear Felice and I went toward Florence 
 in a pair of baskets ; ^ and as I had not written, when 
 I reached my sister's house, she wept and laughed over 
 me all in one breath. That day many of my friends 
 came to see me ; among others Pier Landi, who was 
 the best and dearest friend I ever had. Next day there 
 came a certain Niccolo da Monte Aguto, who was also 
 a very great friend of mine. Now he had heard the 
 Duke say : " Benvenuto would have done much better 
 to die, because he is come to put his head into a noose, 
 and I will never pardon him." Accordingly when 
 
 ^ Un paio di ceste, a kind of litter, here described in the plural, be- 
 cause two of them were perhaps put together. I have thought it best 
 to translate the phrase literally. From a letter of Varchi to Bembo, 
 we learn that Cellini reached Florence, November 9, 1535. 
 
23: 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 Niccolo arrived, lie said to me in desperation : " Alas ! 
 my dear Benvenuto. what have you come to do here ? 
 Did you not know what you have done to displease the 
 Duke ? I have heard him swear that you were thrusting 
 your head into a halter." Then I replied : " Niccolo, 
 remind his Excellency that Pope Clement wanted to 
 do as much to me before, and quite as unjustly ; tell 
 him to keep his eye on me, and give me time to recover ; 
 then I will show his Excellency that I have been the 
 most faithful servant he will ever have in all his life ; 
 and forasmuch as some enemy must have served me 
 this bad turn through envy, let him wait till I get 
 well ; for I shall then be able to give such an account 
 of myself as will make him marvel." 
 
 This bad turn had been done me by Giorgetto 
 Vassellario of Arezzo/ the painter; perchance in re- 
 compense for many benefits conferred on him. I had 
 harboured him in Eome and provided for his costs, 
 while he had turned my whole house upside down ; for 
 the man was subject to a species of dry scab, which he 
 was always in the habit of scratching with his hands. 
 It happened, then, that sleeping in the same bed as 
 an excellent workman, named Manno, who was in my 
 service, when he meant to scratch himself, he tore the 
 skin from one of Manno's legs with his filthy claws, 
 the nails of which he never used to cut. The said 
 Manno left my service, and was resolutely bent on 
 killing him. I made the quarrel up, and afterwards 
 got Giorgio into Cardinal de' Medici's household, and 
 continually helped him. For these deserts, then, he 
 told Duke Alessandro that I had abused his Excellency, 
 
 ^ This is the famous Giorgio Vasari, a bad painter and worse architect, 
 but dear to all lovers of the arts for his anecdotic work upon Italian 
 artists. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 233 
 
 and had bragged I meant to be the first to leap upon 
 the walls of Florence with his foes the exiles. These 
 words, as I afterwards learned, had been put into 
 Vassari's lips by that excellent fellow^ Ottaviano de' 
 Medici, who wanted to revenge himself for the Duke's 
 irritation against him, on account of the coinage and 
 my departiTre from Florence. I, being innocent of the 
 crime falsely ascribed to me, felt no fear whatever. 
 Meanwhile that able physician Francesco da Monte 
 Varchi attended to my cure with great skill. He had 
 been brought by my very dear friend Luca Martini, who 
 passed the larger portion of the day with me.^ 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 Daring this while I had sent my devoted comrade 
 Felice back to Eome, to look after our business there. 
 When I could raise my head a little from the bolster, 
 which was at the end of fifteen days, although I was 
 unable to walk upon my feet, I had myself carried to 
 the palace of the Medici, and placed upon the little 
 upper terrace. There they seated me to wait until the 
 Duke went by. Many of my friends at court came up 
 to greet me, and expressed surprise that I had under- 
 gone the inconvenience of being carried in that way, 
 while so shattered by illness ; they said that I ought 
 to have waited till I was well, and then to have visited 
 the Duke. A crowd of them collected, all looking at 
 me as a sort of miracle ; not merely because they had 
 heard that I was dead, but far more because I had the 
 
 1 Galantuomo, nsed ironically. 
 
 ^ Luca Martini was a member of the best literally society in his days, 
 and the author of some famous burlesque pieces. 
 
234 LIFE OP BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 look of a dead man. Then publicly, before them all, I 
 said how some wicked scoundrel had told my lord the 
 Duke that I had bragged I meant to be the first to 
 scale his Excellency's walls, and also that I had abused 
 him personally ; wherefore I had not the heart to live 
 or die till I had purged myself of that infamy, and 
 found out who the audacious rascal was who had 
 uttered such calumnies against me. At these words 
 a large number of those gentlemen came round, ex- 
 pressing great compassion for me ; one said one thing, 
 one another, and I told them I would never go thence 
 before I knew who had accused me. At these words 
 Maestro Agostino, the Duke's tailor, made his way 
 through all those gentlemen, and said : " If that is 
 all you want to know, you shall know it at this very 
 moment." Giorgio the painter, whom I have mentioned, 
 happened just then to pass, and Maestro Agostino ex- 
 claimed : " There is the man who accused you ; now 
 you know yourself if it be true or not." As fiercely 
 as I could, not being able to leave my seat, I asked 
 Giorgio if it was true that he had accused me. ' He 
 denied that it was so, and that he had ever said any- 
 thing of the sort. Maestro Agostino retorted : " You 
 gallows-bird ! don't you know that I know it for most 
 certain ? " Giorgio made off as quickly as he could, 
 repeating that he had not accused me. Then, after a 
 short while, the Duke came by ; whereupon I had 
 myself raised up before his Excellency, and he halted. 
 I told him that I had come there in that way solely in 
 order to clear my character. The Dnke gazed at me, 
 and marvelled I was still alive ; afterwards he bade 
 me take heed to be an honest man and regain my 
 health. 
 
 When I reached home, Niccolo da Monte Aguto came 
 
BOOK FIRST. 235 
 
 to visit me, and told me that I had escaped one of the 
 most dreadful perils in the world, quite contrary to all 
 his expectations, for he had seen my ruin written with 
 indelible ink ; now I must make haste to get well, and 
 afterwards take French leave, because my jeopardy came 
 from a quarter and a man who was able to destroy me. 
 He then said, " Beware," and added : "What displeasure 
 have you given to that rascal Ottaviano de' Medici?" 
 I answered that I had done nothing to displease him, 
 but that he had inj ured me ; and told him all the 
 affair about the Mint. He repeated : " Get hence as 
 quickly as you can, and be of good courage, for you 
 will see your vengeance executed sooner than you ex- 
 pect." I paid the best attention to my health, gave 
 Pietro Pagolo advice about stamping the coins, and 
 then went off upon my way to Eome without saying 
 a word to the Duke or anybody else. 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 When I reached Rome, and had enjoyed the com- 
 pany of my friends awhile, I began the Duke's medal. 
 In a few days I finished the head in steel, and it was 
 the finest work of the kind which I had ever produced. 
 At least once every day there came to visit me a sort of 
 blockhead named Messer Francesco Soderini.^ When 
 he saw what I was doing, he used frequently to exclaim: 
 " Barbarous wretch ! you want then to immortalise that 
 ferocious tyrant! You have never made anything so 
 exquisite, which proves you our inveterate foe and their 
 devoted friend ; and yet the Pope and he have had it 
 twice in mind to hang you without any fault of yours. 
 
 1 He had been banished in 1530 as a foe to the Medicean house. 
 
236 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 That was the Father and the Son ; now beware of the 
 Holy Ghost." It was firmly believed that Duke Ales- 
 sandro was the son of Pope Clement. Messer Francesco 
 used also to say and swear by all his saints that, if he 
 could, he would have robbed me of the dies for that 
 medal. I responded that he had done well to tell me 
 so, and that I would take such care of them that he 
 should never see them more. 
 
 I now sent to Florence to request Lorenzino that he 
 would send me the reverse of the medal. Niccolo da 
 Monte Aguto, to whom I had written, wrote back, saying 
 that he had spoken to that mad melancholy philosopher 
 Lorenzino for it ; he had replied that he was thinking 
 night and day of nothing else, and that he would finish 
 it as soon as he was able. Nevertheless, I was not to 
 set my hopes upon his reverse, but I had better invent 
 one out of my own head, and when I had finished it, I 
 might bring it without hesitation to the Duke, for this 
 would be to my advantage. 
 
 I composed the design of a reverse which seemed to 
 me appropriate, and pressed the work forward to my 
 best ability. Not being, however^ yet recovered from 
 that terrible illness, I gave myself frequent relaxation 
 by going out on fowling expeditions with my friend 
 Felice. This man had no skill in my art ; but since 
 we were perpetually day and night together, everybody 
 thought he was a first-rate craftsman. This being so, 
 as he was a fellow of much humour, we used often to 
 laugh together about the great credit he had gained. 
 His name was Felice Guadagni (Gain), which made 
 him say in jest : " I should be called Felice Gain-little 
 if you had not enabled me to acquire such credit that I 
 can call myself Gain-much." I replied that there are 
 two ways of gaining : the first is that by which one 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 237 
 
 gains for one's self, the second that by which one gains 
 for others ; so I praised him much more for the second 
 than the first, since he had gained for me my life. 
 
 We often held such conversations ; but I remember 
 one in particular on the day of Epiphany, when we 
 were together near La Magliana. It was close upon 
 nightfall, and during the day I had shot a good number 
 of ducks and geese ; then, as I had almost made my 
 mind up to shoot no more that time, we were returning 
 briskly toward Eome. Calling to my dog by his name, 
 Barucco, and not seeing him in front of me, I turned 
 round and noticed that the well-trained animal was 
 pointing at some geese which had settled in a ditcli. 
 I therefore dismounted at once, got my fowling-piece 
 ready, and at a very long range brought two of them 
 down with a single ball. I never used to shoot with 
 more than one ball, and was usually able to hit my 
 mark at two hundred cubits, which cannot be done 
 by other ways of loading. Of the two geese, one was 
 almost dead, and the other, though badly wounded, was 
 flying lamely. My dog retrieved the one and brought 
 it to me ; but noticing that the other was diving down 
 into the ditch, I sprang forward to catch it. Trusting 
 to my boots, which came high up the leg, I put one 
 foot forward ; it sank in the oozy ground ; and so, 
 although I got the goose, the boot of my right leg was 
 full of water. I lifted my foot and let the water run 
 out ; then, when I had mounted, we made haste for 
 Eome. The cold, however, was very great, and I felt 
 my leg freeze, so that I said to Felice : " We must do 
 something to help this leg, for I don't know how to 
 bear it longer." The good Felice, without a word, leapt 
 from his horse, and gathering some thistles and bits of 
 stick, began to build a fire. I meanwhile was waiting, 
 
238 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 and put my hands among tlie breast-feathers of the 
 geese, and felt them very warm. So I told him not to 
 make the fire, but filled my boot with the feathers of the 
 goose, and was immediately so much comforted that I 
 regained vitality. 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 We mounted, and rode rapidly toward Rome; and 
 when we had reached a certain gently rising ground — 
 night had already fallen — looking in the direction of 
 Florence, both with one breath exclaimed in the utmost 
 astonishment : " God of heaven ! what is that great 
 thing one sees there over Florence ? " It resembled a 
 huge beam of fire, which sparkled and gave out extra- 
 ordinary lustre. 
 
 I said to Felice : " Assuredly we shall hear to-morrow 
 that something of vast importance has happened in 
 Florence." As we rode into Rome, the darkness was 
 extreme ; and when we came near the Banchi and our 
 own house, my little horse was going in an amble at a 
 furious speed. Now that day they had thrown a heap 
 of plaster and broken tiles in the middle of the road, 
 which neither my horse nor myself perceived. In his 
 fiery pace the beast ran up it ; but on coming down 
 upon the other side he turned a complete somersault. 
 He had his head between his legs, and it was only 
 through the power of God himself that I escaped un- 
 hurt. The noise we made brought the neighbours 
 out with lights ; but I had already jumped to my feet ; 
 and so, without remounting, I ran home, laughing to 
 have come unhurt out of an accident enough to break 
 my neck. 
 
 On entering the house, I found some friends of mine 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 239 
 
 tliere, to whom, while we were supping together, I 
 related the adventures of the day's chase and the dia- 
 bolical apparition of the fiery beam which we had seen. 
 They exclaimed : " What shall we hear to-morrow 
 which this portent has announced?" I answered: 
 " Some revolution must certainly have occurred in 
 Florence," So we supped agreeably ; and late the 
 next day there came the news to Rome of Duke Ales- 
 sandro's death. ^ Upon this many of my acquaintances 
 came to me and said : " You were right in conjectur- 
 ing that something of great importance had happened 
 at Florence." Just then Francesco Soderini appeared 
 jogging along upon a wretched mule he had, and laugh- 
 ing all the way like a madman. He said to me : " This 
 is the reverse of that vile tyrant's medal which your 
 Lorenzino de' Medici promised you." Then he added : 
 " You wanted to immortalise the dukes for us ; but we 
 mean to have no more dukes : " and thereupon he jeered 
 me, as though I had been the captain of the factions 
 which make dukes. Meanwhile a certain Baccio Bet- 
 tini,^ who had an ugly big head like a bushel, came up 
 and began to banter me in the same way about dukes, 
 calling out : " We have dis-duked them, and won't 
 have any more of them ; and you were for making them 
 immortal for us ! " with many other tiresome quips of 
 the same kind. I lost my patience at this nonsense, 
 and said to them : " You blockheads ! I am a poor 
 goldsmith, who serve whoever pays me; and you are 
 jeering me as though I were a party-leader. However, 
 this shall not make me cast in your teeth the insatiable 
 
 ^ Alessandro was murdered by his cousin Lorenzino at Florence on 
 the 5th of January 1537. 
 
 ^ Bettini was an intimate friend of Buonarroti and a considerable 
 patron of the arts. 
 
240 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 greediness, idiotcy, and good-for-nothingness of yonr 
 predecessors. But this one answer I will make to all 
 your silly railleries ; that before two or three days at 
 the longest have passed by, you will have another duke, 
 much worse perhaps than he who now has left you." ^ 
 
 The following day Bettini came to my shop and said : 
 " There is no need to spend money in couriers, for you 
 know things before they happen. What spirit tells 
 them to you ? " Then he informed me that Oosimo de' 
 Medici, the son of Signer Giovanni, was made Duke ; 
 but that certain conditions had been imposed at his 
 election, which would hold him back from kicking up 
 his heels at his own pleasure. I now had my oppor- 
 tunity for laughing at them, and saying : " Those men 
 of Florence have set a young man upon a mettlesome 
 horse ; next they have buckled spurs upon his heels, 
 and put the bridle freely in his hands, and turned him 
 out upon a magnificent field, full of flowers and fruits 
 and all delightful things ; next they have bidden him 
 not to cross certain indicated limits : now tell me, you, 
 who there is that can hold him back, whenever he has 
 but the mind to cross them ? Laws cannot be imposed 
 no him who is the master of the law." So they left me 
 alone, and gave me no further annoyance.^ 
 
 XO. 
 
 I now began to attend to my shop, and did some 
 business, not however of much moment, because I had 
 
 ^ This exchange of ironical compliments testifies to Cellini's strong 
 Medicean leanings, and also to the sagacity with which he judged the 
 political situation. 
 
 ^ Cellini only spoke the truth on this occasion ; for Cosimo soon 
 
BOOK- FIRST. 
 
 241 
 
 still to think about my health, which was not yet estab- 
 lished after that grave illness I had undergone. About 
 this time the Emperor returned victorious from his 
 expedition against Tunis, and the Pope sent for me to 
 take my advice concerning the present of honour it 
 was fit to give him.^ I answered that it seemed to me 
 most appropriate to present his Imperial Majesty with 
 a golden crucifix, for which I had almost finished an 
 ornament quite to the purpose, and which would confer 
 the highest honour upon his Holiness and me. I had 
 already made three little figures of gold in the round, 
 about a palm high; they were those which I had begun 
 for the chalice of Pope Clement, representing Paith, 
 Hope, and Charity. To these I added in wax what 
 was wanting for the basement of the cross. I carried 
 the whole to the Pope, with the Christ in wax, and 
 many other exquisite decorations which gave him com- 
 plete satisfaction. Before I took leave of his Holiness, 
 we had agreed on every detail, and calculated the price 
 of the work. 
 
 This was one evening four hours after nightfall, and 
 the Pope had ordered Messer Latino Juvenale to see 
 that I had money paid to me next morning. This 
 Messer Latino, who had a pretty big dash of the fool in 
 his composition, bethought him of furnishing the Pope 
 with a new idea, which was, however, wholly of his own 
 invention. So he altered everything which had been 
 arranged ; and next morning, when I went for the 
 money, he said with his usual brutal arrogance : " It is 
 
 kicked down the ladder which had lifted him to sovereignty, and 
 showed hinnself the absolute master of Florence. Cosimo was elected 
 Duke upon the 9th of January 1537. 
 
 ^ Cellini returns to the year 1535) when Charles V. arrived in 
 November from Tunis. 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
242 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 our part to invent, and yours to execute ; before I left 
 the Pope last night we thought of something far 
 superior." To these first words I answered, without 
 allowing him to proceed farther : " Neither you nor 
 the Pope can think of anything better than a piece 
 in which Christ plays a part ; so you may go on 
 with your courtier's nonsense till you have no more 
 to say." 
 
 Without uttering one word, he left me in a rage, and 
 tried to get the work given to another goldsmith. 
 The Pope, however, refused, and sent for me at once, 
 and told me I had spoken well, but that they wanted to 
 make use of a Book of Hours of Our Lady, which was 
 marvellously illuminated, and had cost the Cardinal de' 
 Medici more than two thousand crowns. They thought 
 that this would be an appropriate present to the Empress, 
 and that for the Emperor they would afterwards make 
 what I had suggested, which was indeed a present 
 worthy of him; but now there was no time to lose, 
 since the Emperor was expected in Eome in about a 
 month and a half He wanted the book to be enclosed in 
 a case of massive gold, richly worked, and adorned with 
 jewels valued at about six thousand crowns. Accord- 
 ingly, when the jewels and the gold were given me, I 
 began the work, and driving it briskly forward, in a 
 few days brought it to such beauty that the Pope was 
 astonished, and showed me the most distinguished signs 
 of favour, conceding at the same time that that beast 
 Juvenale should have nothing more to do with me. 
 
 I had nearly brought my work to its completion when 
 the Emperor arrived, and numerous triumphal arches 
 of great magnificence were erected in his honour. He 
 entered Pome with extraordinary pomp, the description 
 of which I leave to others, since I mean to treat of those 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 243 
 
 things only which concern myself.^ Immediately after 
 his arrival, he gave the Pope a diamond which he had 
 bought for twelve thousand crowns. This diamond the 
 Pope committed to my care, ordering me to make a ring 
 to the measure of his Holiness's finger; but first he 
 wished me to bring the book in the state to which I had 
 advanced it. I took it accordingly, and he was highly 
 pleased with it ; then he asked my advice concerning the 
 apology which could be reasonably made to the Emperor 
 for the unfinished condition of my work. I said that 
 my indisposition would furnish a sound excuse, since his 
 Majesty, seeing how thin and pale I was, would very 
 readily believe and accept it. To this the Pope replied 
 that he approved of the suggestion, but that I should 
 add on the part of his Holiness, when I presented the 
 book to the Emperor, that I made him the present of 
 myself. Then he told me in detail how I had to behave, 
 and the words I had to say. These words I repeated 
 to the Pope, asking him if he wished me to deliver them 
 in that way. He replied : " You would acquit yourself 
 to admiration if you had the courage to address the 
 Emperor as you are addressing me." Then I said that 
 I had the courage to speak with far greater ease and 
 freedom to the Emperor, seeing that the Emperor was 
 clothed as I was, and that I should seem to be speaking 
 to a man formed like myself; this was not the case 
 when I addressed his Holiness, in whom I beheld a 
 far superior deity, both by reason of his ecclesiastical 
 adornments, which shed a certain aureole about him, 
 and at the same time because of his Holiness's dignity 
 of venerable age ; all these things inspired in me more 
 awe than the Imperial Majesty. To these words the 
 
 The entry into Rome took place April 6, 1536. 
 
244 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 Pope responded : " Go, my Benvenuto ; you are a man 
 of ability ; do us honour, and it will be well for you." 
 
 XCI. 
 
 The Pope ordered out two Turkish horses, which had 
 belonged to Pope Clement, and were the most beautiful 
 that ever came to Christendom. Messer Durante,^ his 
 Chamberlain, was bidden to bring them through the 
 lower galleries of the palace, and there to give them to 
 the Emperor, repeating certain words which his Holi- 
 ness dictated to him. We both went down together, 
 and when we reached the presence of the Emperor, the 
 horses made their entrance through those halls with so 
 much spirit and such a noble carriage that the Emperor 
 and every one were struck with wonder. Thereupon 
 Messer Durante advanced in so graceless a manner, and 
 delivered his speech with so much of Brescian lingo, 
 mumbling his words over in his mouth, that one never 
 saw or heard anything worse; indeed the Emperor 
 could not refrain from smiling at him. I meanwhile 
 had already uncovered my piece; and observing that 
 the Emperor had turned his eyes towards me with a 
 very gracious look, I advanced at once and said : 
 " Sacred Majesty, our most holy Father, Pope Paolo, 
 sends this book of the Virgin as a present to your 
 Majesty, the which is written in a fair clerk's hand, and 
 illuminated by the greatest master who ever professed 
 that art ; and this rich cover of gold and jewels is un- 
 finished, as you here behold it, by reason of my illness : 
 wherefore his Holiness, together with the book, presents 
 
 1 Messer Durante Duranti, Prefect of the Camera under Paul III., 
 who gave him the hat in 1544, and the Bishopric of Brescia afterwards. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 245 
 
 me also, and attaches me to your Majesty in order that 
 I may complete the work ; nor this alone, but every- 
 thing which you may have it in your mind to execute, 
 so long as life is left me, will I perform at your service." 
 Thereto the Emperor responded : " The book is accept- 
 able to me, and so are you ; but I desire yon to com- 
 plete it for me in Rome ; when it is finished, and you 
 are restored to health, bring it me and come to see me." 
 Afterwards, in course of conversation, he called me by 
 my name, which made me wonder, because no words had 
 been dropped in which my name occurred ; and he said 
 that he had seen that fastening of Pope Clement's cope, 
 on which I had wrought so many wonderful figures. 
 We continued talking in this way a whole half hour, 
 touching on divers topics artistic and agreeable ; then, 
 since it seemed to me that I had acquitted myself with 
 more honour than I had expected, I took the occasion 
 of a slight lull in the conversation to make my bow and 
 to retire. The Emperor was heard to say : " Let five 
 hundred golden crowns be given at once to Benvenuto." 
 The person who brought them up asked who the Pope's 
 man was who had spoken to the Emperor. Messer 
 Durante came forward and robbed me of my five hun- 
 dred crowns. I complained to the Pope, who told me 
 not to be uneasy, for he knew how everything had 
 happened, and how well I had conducted myself in 
 addressing the Emperor, and of the money I should 
 certainly obtain my share. 
 
 XCIT. 
 
 When I returned to my shop, I set my hand with 
 diligence to finishing the diamond ring, concerning 
 
246 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 whicli the four first jewellers of Rome were sent to 
 consult with me. This was because the Pope had been 
 informed that the diamond had been set by the first 
 jeweller of the world in Venice ; he was called Maestro 
 Miliano Targhetta ; and the diamond being some- 
 what thin, the job of setting it was too diflBcult to 
 be attempted without great deliberation, I was well 
 pleased to receive these four jewellers, among whom 
 was a man of Milan called Gaio. He was the most 
 presumptuous donkey in the world, the one who knew 
 least, and who thought he knew most ; the others were 
 very modest and able craftsmen. In the presence of 
 us all this Gaio began to talk, and said : " Miliano's 
 foil should be preserved, and to do that, Benvenuto, 
 you shall doff your cap ;^ for just as giving diamonds 
 a tint is the most delicate and difficult thing in the 
 jeweller's art, so is Miliano the greatest jeweller that 
 ever lived, and this is the most difficult diamond to 
 tint." I replied that it was all the greater glory for 
 me to compete with so able a master in such an ex- 
 cellent profession. Afterwards I turned to the other 
 jewellers and said : " Look here ! I am keeping Miliano's 
 foil, and I will see whether I can improve on it with 
 some of my own manufacture; if not, we will tint it 
 with the same you see here." That ass Gaio exclaimed 
 that if I made a foil like that he would gladly doff his 
 cap to it. To which I replied : " Supposing then I 
 make it better, it will deserve two bows." " Certainly 
 so," said he ; and I began to compose my foils. 
 
 I took the very greatest pains in mixing the tints, 
 the method of doing which I will explain in the proper 
 
 ■' In the Oreficcria Cellini gives an account of how these foils were 
 made and applied. They were composed of paste, and coloured so as 
 to enhance the effect of precious stones, particularly diamonds. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 247 
 
 place.^ It is certain that the diamond in question 
 offered more difficulties than any others which before 
 or afterwards have come into my hands, and Miliano's 
 foil was made with true artistic skill. However, that 
 did not dismay me ; but having sharpened my wits up, 
 I succeeded not only in making something quite as 
 good, but in exceeding it by far. Then, when I saw 
 that I had surpassed him, I went about to surpass 
 myself, aiid produced a foil by new processes which 
 was a long way better than what I had previously 
 made. Thereupon I sent for the jewellers; aud first I 
 tinted the diamond with Miliano's foil ; then I cleaned 
 it well and tinted it afresh with my own. When I 
 showed it to the jewellers, one of the best among them, 
 who was called Raffael del Moro, took the diamond in 
 his hand and said to Gaio : " Benvenuto has outdone 
 the foil of Miliano." Gaio, unwilling to believe it, took 
 the diamond and said : " Benvenuto, this diamond is 
 worth two thousand ducats more than with the foil of 
 Miliano." I rejoined : " Now that I have surpassed 
 ..Miliano, let us see if I can surpass myself. Then I 
 begged them to wait for me a while, went up into a 
 little cabinet, and having tinted the diamond anew un- 
 seen by them, returned and showed it to the jewellers. 
 Gaio broke out at once : " This is the most marvellous 
 thing that I have ever seen in the course of my whole 
 lifetime. The stone is worth upwards of eighteen 
 thousand crowns, whereas we valued it at barely twelve 
 thousand." The other jewellers turned to him and said : 
 " Benvenuto is the glory of our art, and it is only due 
 that we should doff our caps to him and to his foils." 
 Then Gaio said : " I shall go and tell the Pope, and I 
 mean to procure for him one thousand golden crowns 
 ^ Orcficeria, cap, i. 
 
248 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 for the setting of this diamond." Accordingly he 
 hurried to the Pope and told him the whole story ; 
 whereupon his Holiness sent three times on that day 
 to see if the ring was finished. 
 
 At twenty-three o'clock I took the ring to the palace ; 
 and since the doors were always open to me, I lifted 
 the curtain gently, and saw the Pope in pi-ivate audience 
 with the Marchese del Guasto.^ The Marquis must 
 have been pressing something on the Pope which he 
 was unwilling to perform ; for I heard him say : "I 
 tell you, no ; it is my business to remain neutral, and 
 nothing else." I was retiring as quickly as I could, 
 when the Pope himself called me back; so I entered 
 the room, and presented the diamond ring, upon which 
 he drew me aside, and the Marquis retired to a distance. 
 While looking at the diamond, the Pope whispered to 
 me : " Benvenuto, begin some conversation with me 
 on a subject which shall seem important, and do not 
 stop talking so long as the Marquis remains in this 
 room." Then he took to walking up and down ; and 
 the occasion making for my advantage, I was very 
 glad to discourse with him upon the methods I had 
 used to tint the stone. The Marquis remained stand- 
 ing apart, leaning against a piece of tapestry ; and now 
 he balanced himself about on one foot, now on the 
 other. The subject I had chosen to discourse upon 
 was of such importance, if fully treated, that I could 
 have talked about it at least three hours. The Pope 
 was entertained to such a degree that he forgot the 
 annoyance of the Marquis standing there. I seasoned 
 what I had to say with that part of natural philosophy 
 
 ^ Alfonson d'Avalos, successor and heir to the famous Ferdinando 
 d'Avalos, Marquis of Pescara. He acted for many years as Spanish 
 Viceroy of Milan. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 249 
 
 which belongs to our profession ; and so having spoken 
 for near upon a hour, the Marquis grew tired of wait- 
 ing, and went off fuming. Then the Pope bestowed 
 on me the most familiar caresses which can be imagined, 
 and exclaimed : " Have patience, my dear Benvenuto, 
 for I will give you a better reward for your virtues 
 than the thousand crowns which Gaio tells me your 
 work is worth." 
 
 On this I took my leave ; and the Pope praised me 
 in the presence of his household, among whom was the 
 fellow Latino Juvenale, whom I have previously men- 
 tioned. This man, having become my enemy, assidu- 
 ously strove to do me hurt ; and noticing that the Pope 
 talked of me with so much affection and warmth, he 
 put in his word : " There is no doubt at all that Ben- 
 venuto is a person of very remarkable genius; but 
 while every one is naturally bound to feel more good- 
 will for his own countrymen than for others, still one 
 ought to consider maturely what language it is right 
 and proper to use when speaking of a Pope. He has 
 had the audacity to say that Pope Clement indeed was 
 the handsomest sovereign that ever reigned, and no less 
 gifted ; only that luck was always against him : and 
 he says that your Holiness is quite the opposite ; that 
 the tiara seems to weep for rage upon your head ; that 
 you look like a truss of straw with clothes on, and that 
 there is nothing in you except good luck." These 
 words, reported by a man who knew most excellently 
 how to say them, had such force that they gained credit 
 with the Pope. Far from having uttered them, such 
 things had never come into my head. If the Pope 
 could have done so without losing credit, he would 
 certainly have taken fierce revenge upon me ; but 
 being a man of great tact and talent, he made a show 
 
-50 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 of turning it off with a laugh. Nevertheless he har- 
 boured in his heart a deep vindictive feeling against 
 me, of which I was not slow to be aware, since I had 
 no longer the same easy access to his apartments as 
 formerly, but found the greatest difficulty in procuring 
 audience. As I had now for many years been familiar 
 with the manners of the Roman court, I conceived that 
 some one had done me a bad turn ; and on making 
 dexterous inquiries, I was told the whole, but not the 
 name of my calumniator. I could not imagine who the 
 man was; had I but found him out, my vengeance 
 would not have been measured by troy weight.^ 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 I went on working at my book, and when I had 
 finished it I took it to the Pope, who was in good truth 
 unable to refrain from commending it greatly. I 
 begged him to send me with it to the Emperor, as 
 he had promised. He replied that he would do what 
 he thought fit, and that I had performed ray part of 
 the business. So he gave orders that I should be well 
 paid. These two pieces of work, on which I had spent 
 upwards of two months, brought me in five hundred 
 crowns : for the diamond I was paid one hundred and 
 fifty crowns and no more ; the rest was given me for 
 the cover of the book, which, however, was worth more 
 than a thousand, being enriched with multitudes of 
 figures, arabesques, enamellings, and jewels. I took 
 what I could get, and made my mind up to leave Rome 
 without permission. The Pope meanwhile sent my 
 book to the Emperor by the hand of his grandson, 
 
 ^ lo ne arei fatte vendette a misura di carhone. 
 
BOOK FIEST. 
 
 Signer Sforza.-^ Upon accepting it, the Emperor ex- 
 pressed great satisfaction, and immediately asked for 
 me. Young Signor Sforza, who had received his in- 
 structions, said that I had been prevented by illness 
 from coming. All this was reported to me. 
 
 My preparations for the journey into France were 
 made ; and I wished to go alone, but was unable on 
 account of a lad in my service called Ascanio. He was 
 of very tender age, and the most admirable servant in 
 the world. When I took him, he had left a former 
 master, named Francesco, a Spaniard and a goldsmith. 
 I did not much like to take him, lest I should get into 
 a quarrel with the Spaniard, and said to Ascanio : "I 
 do not want to have you, for fear of offending your 
 master," He contrived that his master should write 
 me a note informing me that I was free to take him. 
 So he had been with me some months ; and since he 
 came to us both thin and pale of face, we called him 
 " the little old man ; " indeed I almost thought he was 
 one, partly because he was so good a servant, and 
 partly because he was so clever that it seemed unlikely 
 he should have such talent at thirteen years, which he 
 affirmed his age to be. Now to go back to the point 
 from which I started, he improved in person during 
 those few months, and gaining in flesh, became the 
 handsomest youth in Rome. Being the excellent 
 servant which I have described, and showing marvel- 
 lous aptitude for our art, I felt a warm and fatherly 
 affection for him, and kept him clothed as if he had 
 been my own son. When the boy perceived the 
 improvement he had made, he esteemed it a good piece 
 
 ^ Sforza Sforza, son of Bosio, Count of Santa Fiore, and of Costanza 
 Farnese, the Pope's natural daughter. He was a youth of sixteen at 
 this epoch. 
 
2,2 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 of luck that he had come into my hands ; and he used 
 frequently to go and thank his former master, who had 
 been the cause of his prosperity. Now this man had a 
 handsome young woman to wife, who said to him : 
 " Surgetto " (that was what they called him when he 
 lived with them), " what have you been doing to 
 become so handsome ? " Ascanio answered : " Madonna 
 Francesca, it is my master who has made me so hand- 
 some, and far more good to boot." In her petty spite- 
 ful way she took it very ill that Ascanio should speak 
 so ; and having no reputation for chastity, she con- 
 trived to caress the lad more perhaps than was quite 
 seemly, which made me notice that he began to visit 
 her more frequently than his wont had been. 
 
 One day Ascanio took to beating one of our little 
 shopboys, who, when I came home from out of doors, 
 complained to me with tears that Ascanio had knocked 
 him about without any cause. Hearing this, I said to 
 Ascanio : " With cause or without cause, see you never 
 strike any one of my family, or else I'll make you feel 
 how I can strike myself." He bandied words with me, 
 which made me jump on him and give him the severest 
 drubbing with both fists and feet that he had ever felt. 
 As soon as he escaped my clutches, he ran away with- 
 out cape or cap, and for two days I did not know where 
 he was, and took no care to find him. After that time 
 a Spanish gentleman, called Don Diego, came to speak 
 to me. He was the most generous man in the world. 
 I had made, and was making, some things for him, 
 which had brought us well acquainted. He told me 
 that Ascanio had gone back to his old master, and 
 asked me, if I thought it proper, to send him the cape 
 and cap which I had given him. Thereupon I said 
 that Francesco had behaved badly, and like a low- 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 253 
 
 bred fellow ; for if lie had told me, when Ascanio first 
 came back to him, that he was in his house, I should 
 very willingly have given him leave ; but now that he 
 had kept him two days without informing me, I w^as 
 resolved he should not have him ; and let him take 
 care that I do not set eyes upon the lad in his house- 
 This message was reported by Don Diego, but it only 
 made Francesco laugh. The next morning I saw 
 Ascanio working at some trifles in wire at his master's 
 side. As I was passing he bowed to me, and his 
 master almost laughed me in the face. He sent again 
 to ask through Don Diego whether I would not give 
 Ascanio back the clothes he had received from me ; but 
 if not, he did not mind, and Ascanio should not want 
 for clothes. When I heard this, I turned to Don Diego 
 and said : " Don Diego, sir, in all your dealings you 
 are the most liberal and worthy man I ever knew ; but 
 that Francesco is quite the opposite of you; he is nothing 
 better than a worthless and dishonoured renegade. Tell 
 him from me that if he does not bring Ascanio here 
 himself to my shop before the bell for vespers, I will 
 assuredly kill him ; and tell Ascanio that if he does not 
 quit that house at the hour appointed for his master, I 
 will treat him much in the same way." Don Diego 
 made no answer, but went and inspired such terror in 
 Francesco that he knew not what to do with himself. 
 Ascanio meanwhile had gone to find his father, who 
 had come to Rome from Tagliacozzo, his birthplace ; 
 and this man also, when he heard about the row, advised 
 Francesco to bring Ascanio back to me. Francesco said 
 to Ascanio : " Go on your own account, and your father 
 shall go with you." Don Diego put in : " Francesco, 
 I foresee that something very serious will happen ; you 
 know better than I do what a man Benvenuto is ; take 
 
254 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 the lad back courageously, and I will come with you." 
 I had prepared myself, and was pacing up and down 
 the shop waiting for the bell to vespers ; my mind was 
 made up to do one of the bloodiest deeds which I had 
 ever attempted in my life. Just then arrived Don Diego, 
 Francesco, Ascanio, and his father, whom I did not 
 know. When Ascanio entered, I gazed at the whole 
 company with eyes of rage, and Francesco, pale as 
 death, began as follows : " See here, I have brought 
 back Ascanio, whom I kept with me, not thinking that 
 I should offend you." Ascanio added humbly : "Master, 
 pardon me ; I am at your disposal here, to do whatever 
 you shall order." Then I said : " Have you come to 
 work out the time you promised me ? " He answered 
 yes, and that he meant never to leave me. Then I 
 turned and told the shopboy he had beaten to hand 
 him the bundle of clothes, and said to him : " Here are 
 all the clothes I gave you ; take with them your dis- 
 charge, and go where you like." Don Diego stood 
 astonished at this, which was quite the contrary of 
 what he had expected ; while Ascanio with his father 
 besought me to pardon and take him back. On my 
 asking who it was who spoke for him, he said it was 
 his father ; to whom, after many entreaties, I replied : 
 " Because you are his father, for your sake I will take 
 him back." 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 I had formed the resolution, as I said a short while 
 back, to go toward France ; partly because I saw that 
 the Pope did not hold me in the same esteem as 
 formerly, my faithful service having been besmirched 
 by lying tongues ; and also because I feared lest those 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 255 
 
 who had the power might play me some worse trick. 
 So I was determined to seek better fortune in a foreign 
 landj and wished to leave Rome without company or 
 license. On the eve of my projected departure, I told 
 my faithful friend Felice to make free use of all my 
 effects during my absence ; and in the case of my not 
 returning, left him everything I possessed. Now there 
 was a Perugian workman in my employ, who had 
 helped me on those commissions from the Pope ; and 
 after paying his wages, I told him he must leave my 
 service. He begged me in reply to let him go with 
 me, and said he would come at his own charges; if I 
 stopped to work for the King of France, it would 
 certainly be better for me to have Italians by me, and 
 in particular such persons as I knew to be capable of 
 giving me assistance. His entreaties and arguments 
 persuaded me to take him on the journey in the 
 manner he proposed. A'scanio, who was present at 
 this debate, said, half in tears : " When you took me 
 back, I said I wished to remain with you my lifetime, 
 and so I have it in my mind to do." I told him that 
 nothing in the world would make me consent ; but when 
 I saw that the poor lad was preparing to follow on foot, 
 I engaged a horse for him too, put a small valise upon 
 the crupper, and loaded myself with far more useless 
 baggage than I should otherwise have taken. ^ 
 
 From Pome I travelled to Florence, from Florence 
 to Bologna, from Bologna to Venice, and from Venice 
 to Padua. There my dear friend Albertaccio del Bene 
 made me leave the inn for his house ; and next day I 
 went to kiss the hand of Messer Pietro Bembo, who 
 was not yet a Cardinal.- He received me with marks 
 
 1 He left Rome, April i, 1537. 
 
 ^ I need hardly say that this is the Bembo who ruled over Italian 
 
2;6 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 of the warmest affection wliicli could be bestowed on 
 any man ; then turning to Albertaccio, he said : " I 
 want Benvenuto to stay here, with all his followers, 
 even though they be a hundred men ; make then your 
 mind up, if you want Benvenuto also, to stay here with 
 me, for I do not mean elsewise to let you have him," 
 Accordingly I spent a very pleasant visit at the house 
 of that most accomplished gentleman. He had a room 
 prepared for me which would have been too grand for 
 a cardinal, and always insisted on my taking my meals 
 beside him. Later on, he began to hint in very modest 
 terms that he should greatly like me to take his 
 portrait. I, who desired nothing in the world more, 
 prepared some snow-white plaster in a little box, and 
 set to work at once. The first day I spent two hours 
 on end at my modelling, and blocked out the fine head 
 of that eminent man with so much grace of manner 
 that his lordship was fairly astounded. Now, though 
 he was a man of profound erudition and without a rival 
 in poetry, he understood nothing at all about my art ; 
 this made him think that I had finished when I had 
 hardly began, so that I could not make him compre- 
 hend what a long time it took to execute a thing of 
 that sort thoroughly. At last I resolved to do it as 
 well as I was able, and to spend the requisite time 
 upon it ; but since he wore his beard short after the 
 Venetian fashion, I had great trouble in modelling a 
 head to my own satisfaction. However, I finished it, 
 and judged it about the finest specimen I had produced 
 in all the points pertaining to my art. Great was the 
 astonishment of Messer Pietro, who conceived that I 
 
 literature like a dictator from the reign of Leo X. onwards. He was 
 of a noble Venetian house ; Paul III, made him Cardinal in 1539. 
 He died, aged seventy-seven, in 1547. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 257 
 
 shoulcl have completed the waxen model in two hours 
 and the steel in ten, when he found that I employed 
 two hundred on the wax, and then was begging for 
 leave to pursue my journey toward France. This 
 threw him into much concern, and he implored me at 
 least to design the reverse for his medal, which was to 
 be a Pegasus encircled with a wreath of myrtle. I 
 performed my task in the space of some three hours, 
 and gave it a fine air of elegance. He was exceedingly 
 delighted, and said : " This horse seems to me ten 
 times more difficult to do than the little portrait on 
 which you have bestowed so much pains. I cannot 
 understand what made it such a labour." All the 
 same, he kept entreating me to execute the piece in 
 steel, exclaiming : " For Heaven's sake, do it ; I know 
 that, if you choose, you will get it quickly finished." 
 I told him that I was not willing to make it there, 
 but promised without fail to take it in hand wherever 
 I might stop to work. 
 
 While this debate was being carried on I went to 
 bargain for three horses which I wanted on my travels ; 
 and he took care that a secret watch should be kept 
 over my proceedings, for he had vast authority in 
 Padua ; wherefore, when I proposed to pay for the 
 horses, which were to cost five hundred ducats, their 
 owner answered : " Illustrious artist, I make you a 
 present of the three horses." I replied : " It is not 
 you who give them me ; and from the generous donor 
 I cannot accept them, seeing I have been unable to 
 present him with any specimen of my craft." The 
 good fellow said that, if I did not take them, I should 
 get no other horses in Padua, and should have to make 
 my journey on foot. Upon that I returned to the 
 magnificent Messer Pietro, who affected to be ignorant 
 
 VOL. I. R 
 
258 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 of the affair, and only begged me with marks of kind- 
 ness to remain in Padma. This was contrary to my 
 intention, for 1 had quite resolved to set out ; therefore I 
 had to accept the three horses, and with them we began 
 our journey. 
 
 XCV. 
 
 I chose the route through the Grisons, all other 
 passes being unsafe on account of war. We crossed 
 the mountains of the Alba and Berlina ; it was the 
 8th of May, and the snow upon them lay in masses.^ 
 At the utmost hazard of our lives we succeeded in 
 surmounting those two Alpine ridges ; and when they 
 had been traversed, we stopped at a place which, if I 
 remember rightly, is called Yaldista. There we took 
 up quarters, and at nightfall there arrived a Florentine 
 courier named Busbacca, I had heard him mentioned 
 as a man of character and able in his profession, but I 
 did not know that he had forfeited that reputation by 
 his rogueries. When he saw me in the hostelry, he 
 addressed me by my name, said he was going on busi- 
 ness of importance to Lyons, and entreated me to lend 
 him money for the journey. I said I had no money 
 to lend, but that if he liked to join me, I would pay 
 his expenses as far as Lyons. The rascal wept, and 
 wheedled me with a long story, saying : " If a poor 
 courier employed on affairs of national consequence has 
 fallen short of money, it is the duty of a man like you 
 to assist him," Then he added that he was carrying 
 
 1 I have retained Cellini's spelling of names upon this journey. He 
 passed the Bernina and Albula mountains, descended the valley of the 
 Rhine to Wallenstadt, travelled by Weesen and probably Glarus to 
 Lachen and Zurich, thence to Solothurn, Lausanne, Geneva, Lyons. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 259 
 
 things of the utmost importance from Messer Filippo 
 Strozzi ; ^ and showing me a leather case for a cup he 
 had with him, whispered in my ear that it held a 
 goblet of silver which contained jewels to the value of 
 many thousands of ducats, together with letters of vast 
 consequence, sent by Messer Filippo Strozzi. I told 
 him that he ought to let me conceal the jewels about 
 his own person, which would be much less dangerous 
 than carrying them in the goblet ; he might give that 
 up to me, and, its value being probably about ten 
 crowns, I would supply him with twenty-five on the 
 security. To these words the courier replied that he 
 would go with me, since he could not do otherwise, for 
 to give up the goblet would not be to his honour. 
 
 Accordingly we struck the bargain so ; and taking 
 horse next morning, came to a lake between Valdistate 
 and Vessa ; it is fifteen miles long when one reaches 
 Vessa. On beholding the boats upon that lake I 
 took fright ; because they are of pine, of no great size 
 and no great thickness, loosely put together, and not 
 even pitched. If I had not seen four German gentle- 
 men, with their four horses, embarking in one of the 
 same sort as ours, I should never have set my foot in 
 it ; indeed I should far more likely have turned tail ; 
 but when I saw their hare-brained recklessness, I took 
 it into my head that those German waters would not 
 drown folk, as ours do in Italy. However, my two 
 young men kept saying to me : " Benvenuto, it is surely 
 dangerous to embark in this craft with four horses." 
 I replied : " You cowards, do you not observe how 
 those four gentlemen have taken boat before us, and 
 
 ' Filippo Strozzi was leader of the anti-Medicean party, now in exile. 
 He fell into the hands of Duke Cosimo on the ist of August in this 
 year, 1537. 
 
26o 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLIKI. 
 
 are going on their way with laughter ? If this were 
 wine, as indeed 'tis water, I should say that they were 
 going gladly to drown themselves in it ; but as it is 
 but water, I know well that they have no more pleasure 
 than we have in drowning there." The lake was fifteen 
 miles long and about three broad ; on one side rose a 
 mountain very tall and cavernous, on the other some 
 flat land and grassy. When we had gone about four 
 miles, it began to storm upon the lake, and our oars- 
 men asked us to help in rowing ; this we did awhile. 
 I made gestures and directed them to land us on the 
 farther shore; they said it was not possible, because 
 there was not depth of water for the boat, and there 
 were shoals there, which would make it go to pieces 
 and drown us all ; and still they kept on urging us to 
 help them. The boatmen shouted one to the other, call- 
 ing for assistance. When I saw them thus dismayed, 
 my horse being an intelligent animal, I arranged the 
 bridle on his neck and took the end of the halter with 
 my left hand. The horse, like most of his kind, being 
 not devoid of reason, seemed to have an instinct of my 
 intention ; for having turned his face towards the fresh 
 grass, I meant that he should swim and draw me after 
 him. Just at that moment a great wave broke over 
 the boat. Ascanio shrieked out : " Mercy, my father ; 
 save me," and wanted to throw himself upon my neck. 
 Accordingly, I laid hand to my little dagger, and told 
 them to do as I had shown them, seeing that the 
 horses would save their lives as well as I too hoped 
 to escape with mine by the same means; but that if 
 he tried to jump on me, I should kill him. So we 
 went forward several miles in this great peril of our 
 lives. 
 
BOOK FIEST. 
 
 261 
 
 XCVI. 
 
 When we had reached the middle of the lake, we 
 found a little bit of level ground where we could land, 
 and I saw that those four German gentlemen had 
 already come to shore there; but on our wishing to 
 disembark, the boatmen would hear nothing of it. 
 Then I said to my young men : " Now is the time to 
 show what stuff we are made off; so draw your swords, 
 and force these fellows to put us on shore." This we 
 did, not however without difficulty, for they offered a 
 stubborn resistance. When at last we got to land, we 
 had to climb that mountain for two miles, and it was 
 more troublesome than getting up a ladder. I was com- 
 pletely clothed in mail, with big boots, and a gun in 
 my hand ; and it was raining as though the fountains 
 of the heavens were opened. Those devils, the German 
 gentlemen, leading their little horses by the bridle, 
 accomplished miracles of agility ; but our animals were 
 not up to the business, and we burst with the fatigue of 
 making them ascend that hill of difficulty. We had 
 climbed a little way, when Ascanio's horse, an excel- 
 lent beast of Hungarian race, made a false step. He 
 was going a few paces before the courier Busbacca, to 
 whom Ascanio had given his lance to carry for him. 
 Well, the path was so bad that the horse stumbled, and 
 went on scrambling backwards, without being able to 
 regain his footing, till he stuck upon the point of the 
 lance, which that rogue of a courier had not the wit to 
 keep out of his way. The weapon passed right through 
 his throat ; and when my other workman went to help 
 him, his horse also, a black-coloured animal, slipped 
 towards the lake, and held on by some shrub which 
 
262 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 oiFered but a slight support. This horse was carrying 
 a pair of saddle-bags, which contained all my money 
 and other valuables. I cried out to the young man to 
 save his own life, and let the horse go to the devil. 
 The fall was more than a mile of precipitous descent 
 above the waters of the lake. Just below the place 
 our boatmen had taken up their station ; so that if the 
 horse fell, he would have come precisely on them. I 
 was ahead of the whole company, and we waited to see 
 the horse plunge headlong ; it seemed certain that he 
 must go to perdition. During this I said to my young 
 men : " Be under no concern ; let us save our lives, and 
 give thanks to God for all that happens. I am only 
 distressed for that poor fellow Busbacca, who tied his 
 goblet and his jewels to the value of several thousands 
 of ducats on the horse's saddle-bow, thinking that the 
 safest place. My things are but a few hundred crowns, 
 and I am in no fear whatever, if only I get God's pro- 
 tection." Then Busbacca cried out : " I am not sorry 
 for my own loss, but for yours." " Why," said I to 
 him, " are you sorry for my trifles, and not for all that 
 property of yours ? " He answered : " I will tell you in 
 God's name ; in these circumstances and at the point 
 of peril we have reached, truth must be spoken. I 
 know that yours are crowns, and are so in good sooth ; 
 but that case in which I said I had so many jewels and 
 other lies, is all full of caviare." On hearing this I 
 could not hold from laughing ; my young men laughed 
 too ; and he began to cry. The horse extricated itself 
 by a great effort when we had given it up for lost. 
 So then, still laughing, we summoned our forces, and 
 bent ourselves to making the ascent. The four German 
 gentlemen, having gained the top before us, sent down 
 some folk who gave us aid. Thus at length we reached 
 
BOOK FIEST. 
 
 263 
 
 our lodging in the wilderness. Here, being wet to the 
 skin, tired out, and famished, we were most agreeably 
 entertained ; we dried ourselves, took rest, and satisfied 
 our hunger, while certain wild herbs were applied to 
 the wounded horse. They pointed out to us the plant 
 in question, of which the hedges were full ; and we 
 were told that if the wound was kept continually 
 plugged with its leaves, the beast would not only re- 
 cover, but would serve us just as if it had sustained 
 no injury. We proceeded to do as they advised. Then 
 having thanked those gentlemen, and feeling ourselves 
 entirely refreshed, we quitted the place, and travelled 
 onwards, thanking God for saving us from such great 
 perils. 
 
 XCVII. 
 
 We reached a town beyond Vessa, where we passed 
 the uight, and heard a watchman through all the hours 
 singing very agreeably ; for all the houses of that city 
 being built of pine wood, it was the watchman's only 
 business to warn folk against fire. Busbacca's nerves 
 had been quite shaken by the day's adventures ; ac- 
 cordingly, each hour when the watchman sang, he 
 called out in his sleep : " Ah God, I am drowning ! " 
 That was because of the fright he had had ; and besides, 
 he had got drunk in the evening, because he would sit 
 boozing with all the Germans who were there ; and 
 sometimes he cried : '' I am burning," and sometimes : 
 " I am drowning ; " and at other times he thought he 
 was in hell, and tortured with that caviare suspended 
 round his throat. 
 
 This night was so amusing, that it turned all our 
 troubles into laughter. In the morning we rose with 
 
264 
 
 LIFE OF BENYENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 very fine weather, and went to dine in a smiling little 
 place called Lacca. Here we obtained excellent enter- 
 tainment, and then engaged guides, who were returning 
 to a town called Surich. The guide who attending us 
 went along the dyked bank of a lake ; there was no other 
 road ; and the dyke itself was covered with water, so 
 that the reckless fellow slipped, and fell together with 
 his horse beneath the water. I, who was but a few 
 steps behind him, stopped my horse, and waited to see 
 the donkey get out of the water. Just as if nothing 
 had happened, he began to sing again, and made signs 
 to me to follow. I broke away upon the right hand, 
 and got through some hedges, making my young men 
 and Busbacca take that way. The guide shouted in 
 German that if the folk of those parts saw me they 
 would put me to death. However, we passed forward, 
 and escaped that other storm. 
 
 So we arrived at Surich, a marvellous city, bright 
 and polished like a little gem. There we rested a 
 whole day, then left betimes one morning, and reached 
 another fair city called Solutorno. Thence we came to 
 Usanna, from Usanna to Ginevra, from Ginevra to 
 Lione, always singing and laughing. At Lione I 
 rested four days, and had much pleasant intercourse 
 with some of my friends there ; I was also repaid what 
 I had spent upon Busbacca ; afterwards I set out upon 
 the road to Paris. This was a delightful journey, except 
 that when we reached Palissa ^ a band of venturers 
 tried to murder us,^ and it was only by great courage 
 and address that we ffot free from them. From that 
 
 ^ La Palice. 
 
 ^ Cellini in the narrative of his second French journey, explains that 
 these venturieri were a notable crew of very daring brigands in the 
 Lyonese province. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 265 
 
 point onward we travelled to Paris without tlie least 
 trouble in the world. Always singing and laughing, 
 we arrived safely at our destination. 
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 After taking some repose in Paris, I went to visit 
 the painter Rosso, who was in the King's service. I 
 thought to find in him one of the sincerest friends I 
 had in the world, seeing that in Rome I had done him 
 the greatest benefits which one man can confer upon 
 another. As these may be described briefly, I will not 
 here omit their mention, in order to expose the shame- 
 lessness of such ingratitude. While he was in Rome, 
 then, being a man given to backbiting, he spoke so ill 
 of Raflfaello da Urbino's works, that the pupils of the 
 latter were quite resolved to murder him. From this 
 peril I saved him by keeping a close watch upon him 
 day and night. Again, the evil things said by Rosso 
 against San Gallo,^ that excellent architect, caused the 
 latter to get work taken from him which he had pre- 
 viously procured for him from Messer Agnolo da 
 Cesi ; and after this San Gallo used his influence so 
 strenuously against him that he must have been 
 brought to the verge of starvation, had not I pitied his 
 condition and lent him some scores of crowns to live 
 upon. So then, not having been repaid, and knowing 
 that he held employment under the King, I went, as I 
 have said, to look him up. I did not merely expect him 
 to discharge his debt, but also to show me favour and 
 assist in placing me in that great monarch's service. 
 
 1 Antonio da San Gallo, one of the best architects of the later 
 Renaissance. 
 
266 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 When Eosso set eyes on me, his countenance changed 
 suddenly, and he exclaimed : " Benvenuto, you have 
 taken this long journey at great charges to your loss ; 
 especially at this present time, when all men's thoughts 
 are occupied with war, and not with the bagatelles of 
 our profession." I replied that I had brought money 
 enough to take me back to Rome as I had come to 
 Paris, and that this was not the proper return for the 
 pains I had endured for him, and that now I began to 
 believe what Maestro Antonio da San Gallo said of 
 him. When he tried to turn the matter into jest on 
 this exposure of his baseness, I showed him a letter of 
 exchange for five hundred crowns upon Ricciardo del 
 Bene. Then the rascal was ashamed, and wanted to 
 detain me almost by force ; but I laughed at him, and 
 took my leave in the company of a painter whom I 
 found there. This man was called Sguazzella : ^ he too 
 was a Florentine ; and I went to lodge in his house, 
 with three horses and three servants, at so much per 
 week. He treated me very well, and was even better 
 paid by me in return. 
 
 Afterwards I sought audience of the King, through 
 the introduction of his treasurer, Messer Giuliano 
 Buonaccorti.'^ I met, however, with considerable 
 delays, owing, as I did not then know, to the strenuous 
 exertions Rosso made against my admission to his 
 Majesty. When Messer Giuliano became aware of 
 this, he took me down at once to Fontana Bilio,^ 
 and brought me into the presence of the King, who 
 granted me a whole hour of very gracious audience. 
 
 ^ A pupil of Andrea del Sarto, who went with him to France and 
 settled there. 
 
 ^ A Florentine exile mentioned by Varchi. 
 
 ^ Fontainebleau. Ctllini always writes it as above. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 267 
 
 Since lie was then on the point of setting out for 
 Lyons, he told Messer Giuliano to take me with him, 
 adding that on the journey we could discuss some 
 works of art his Majesty had it in his head to execute. 
 Accordingly, I followed the court ; and on the way I 
 entered into close relations with the Cardinal of 
 Ferrara, who had not at that period obtained the hat.-^ 
 Every evening I used to hold long conversations with 
 the Cardinal, in the course of which his lordship ad- 
 vised me to remain at an abbey of his in Lyons, and 
 there to abide at ease until the King returned from 
 this campaign, adding that he was going on to 
 Grenoble, and that I should enjoy every convenience 
 in the abbey. 
 
 When we reached Lyons I was already ill, and my 
 lad Ascanio had taken a quartan fever. The French 
 and their court were both grown irksome to me, and 
 I counted the hours till I could find myself again in 
 Rome. On seeing my anxiety to return home, the 
 Cardinal gave me money sufficient for making him a 
 silver bason and jug. So we took good horses, and set 
 our faces in the direction of Rome, passing the Simplon, 
 and travelling for some while in the company of certain 
 Frenchmen ; Ascanio troubled by his quartan, and I 
 by a slow fever which I found it quite impossible to 
 throw off. I had, moreover, got my stomach out of 
 order to such an extent, that for the space of four 
 months, as I verily believe, I hardly ate one whole 
 loaf of bread in the week ; and great was my longing 
 to reach Italy, being desirous to die there rather than 
 in France. 
 
 ^ Ippolito d'Este, son of Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara ; Archbishop of 
 Milan at the age of fifteen ; Cardinal in 1539 ; spent a large part of 
 his life in France, 
 
263 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 When we liad crossed the mountains of the Simplon, 
 we came to a river near a place called Indevedro.^ It 
 was broad and very deep, spanned by a long narrow 
 bridge without ramparts. That morning a thick white 
 frost had fallen ; and when I reached the bridge, riding 
 before the rest, I recognised how dangerous it was, and 
 bade my servants and young men dismount and lead 
 their horses. So I got across without accident, and 
 rode on talking with one of the Frenchmen, whose 
 condition was that of a gentleman. The other, who 
 w^as a scrivener, lagged a little way behind, jeering 
 the French gentleman and me because we had been so 
 frightened by nothing at all as to give ourselves the 
 trouble of walking. I turned round, and seeing him 
 upon the middle of the bridge, begged him to come 
 gently, since the place was very dangerous. The 
 fellow, true to his French nature, cried out in French 
 that I was a man of poor spirit, and that there was no 
 danger whatsoever. While he spoke these words and 
 urged his horse forward, the animal suddenly slipped 
 over the bridge, and fell with legs in air close to a 
 huge rock there was there. Now God is very often 
 merciful to madmen ; so the two beasts, human and 
 equine, plunged together into a deep wide pool, where 
 both of them went down below the water. On seeing 
 what had happened, I set off running at full speed, 
 scrambled with much difficulty on to the rock, and 
 dangling over from it, seized the skirt of the scrivener's 
 gown and pulled him up, for he was still submerged 
 beneath the surface. He had drunk his bellyful of 
 
 ^ Probably the Doveiia in the Valdivedro. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 269 
 
 water, and was within an ace of being drowned. I 
 then, beholding him out of danger, congratulated the 
 man upon my having been the means of rescuing his 
 life. The fellow to this answered me in French, that 
 I had done nothing ; the important things to save 
 were his writings, worth many scores of crowns ; and 
 these words he seemed to say in anger, dripping wet 
 and spluttering the while. Thereupon, I turned round 
 to our guides, and ordered them to help the brute, add- 
 ing that I would see them paid. One of them with 
 great address and trouble set himself to the business, 
 and picked up all the fellow's writings, so that he lost 
 not one of them ; the other guide refused to trouble 
 himself by rendering any assistance. 
 
 I ought here to say that we had made a purse up, 
 and that I performed the part of paymaster. So, when 
 we reached the place I mentioned, and had dined, I 
 drew some coins from the common purse and gave them 
 to the guide who helped to draw him from the water. 
 Thereupon the fellow called out that I might pay them 
 out of my own pocket ; he had no intention of giving 
 the man more than what had been agreed on for his 
 services as guide. Upon this I retorted with insulting 
 language. Then the other guide, who had done nothing, 
 came up and demanded to be rewarded also. I told him 
 that the one who had borne the cross deserved the 
 recompense. He cried out that he would presently 
 show me a cross which should make me repent. I 
 replied that I would light a candle at that cross, which 
 should, I hoped, make him to be the first to weep his 
 folly. The village we were in lay on the frontier 
 between Venice and the Germans. So the guide ran 
 off to bring the folk together, and came, followed by a 
 crowd, with a boar-spear in his hand. Mounted on my 
 
I \ 
 
 270 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 good steed, I lowered the barrel of my arquebuse, and 
 turning to my comrades, cried : "At tbe first shot I 
 shall bring that fellow down ; do you likewise your 
 duty, for these are highway robbers, who have used this 
 little incident to contrive our murder." The innkeeper 
 at whose house we had dined called one of the leaders, 
 an imposing old man, and begged him to put a stop to 
 the disorder, saying : " This is a most courageous young 
 man ; you may cut him to pieces, but he will certainly 
 kill a lot of you, and perhaps will escape your hands 
 after doing all the mischief he is able." So matters 
 calmed down : and the old man, their leader, said to 
 me : " Go in peace; you would not have much to boast 
 of against us, even if you had a hundred men to back 
 you." I recognised the truth of his words, and had 
 indeed made up my mind to die among them ; there- 
 fore, when no further insults were cast at me, I shook 
 my head and exclaimed : " I should certainly have done 
 my utmost to prove I am no statue, but a man of flesh 
 and spirit." Then we resumed our journey ; and that 
 evening, at the first lodging we came to, settled our 
 accounts together. There I parted for ever from that 
 beast of a Frenchman, remaining on very friendly terms 
 with the other, who was a gentleman. Afterwards I 
 reached Ferrara, with my three horses and no other 
 company. 
 
 Having dismounted, I went to court in order to pay 
 my reverence to the Duke, and gain permission to 
 depart next morning for Loreto. When I had waited 
 until two hours after nightfall, his Excellency appeared. 
 I kissed his ha'nds ; he received me with much courtesy, 
 and ordered that water should be brought for me to wash 
 my hands before eating. To this compliment I made a 
 pleasant answer : " Most excellent lord, it is now more 
 
BOOK FIEST. 271 
 
 than four months that I have eaten only just enough 
 to keep life together ; knowing therefore that I could 
 not enjoy the delicacies of your royal table, I will stay 
 and talk with you while your Excellency is supping ; 
 in this way we shall both have more pleasure than if I 
 were to sup with you." Accordingly, we entered into 
 conversation, and prolonged it for the next three hours. 
 At that time I took my leave, and when I got back to 
 the inn, found a most excellent meal ready; for the 
 Duke had sent me the plates from his own banquet, 
 together with some famous wine. Having now fasted 
 two fall hours beyond my usual hour for supping, I fell 
 to with hearty appetite ; and this was the first time since 
 four months that I felt the power or will to eat. 
 
 C. 
 
 Leaving Ferrara in the morning, I went to Santa 
 Maria at Loreto; and thence, having performed my devo- 
 tions, pursued the journey to Rome. There I found my 
 most faithful Felice, to whom I abandoned my old shop 
 with all its furniture and appurtenances, and opened 
 another, much larger and roomier, next to Sugherello, 
 the perfumer. I thought for certain that the great King 
 Francis would not have remembered me. Therefore I 
 accepted commissions from several noblemen; and in 
 the meanwhile began the bason and jug ordered by the 
 Cardinal of Ferrara. I had a crowd of workmen, and 
 many large affairs on hand in gold and silver. 
 
 Now the arrangement I had made with that Peru- 
 gian workman ^ was that he should write down all the 
 monies which had been disbursed on his account, 
 ■^ In his Ricordi Cellini calls the man Girolamo Pascucci. 
 
 
272 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 chiefly for clotlies and divers other sundries; and 
 these, together with the costs of travelling, amounted 
 to about seventy crowns. We agreed that he should 
 discharge the debt by monthly payments of three 
 crowns ; and this he was well able to do, since he 
 gained more than eight through me. At the end of 
 two months the rascal decamped from my shop, leaving 
 me in the lurch with a mass of business on my hands, 
 and saying that he did not mean to pay me a farthing 
 more. I was resolved to seek redress, but allowed 
 myself to be persuaded to do so by the way of justice. 
 At first I thought of lopping off an arm of his ; and 
 assuredly I should have done so, if my friends had not 
 told me that it was a mistake, seeing I should lose my 
 money and perhaps Rome too a second time, forasmuch 
 as blows cannot be measured, and that with the agree- 
 ment I held of his I could at any moment have him 
 taken up. I listened to their advice, though I should 
 have liked to conduct the affair more freely. As a 
 matter of fact, I sued him before the auditor of the 
 Camera, and gained my suit; in consequence of that 
 decree, for which I waited several months, I had him 
 thrown into prison. At the same time I was over- 
 whelmed with large commissions ; among others, I had 
 to supply all the ornaments of gold and jewels for the 
 wife of Signer Gierolimo Orsino, father of Signer Paolo, 
 who is now the son-in-law of our Duke Cosimo.^ These 
 things I had nearly finished ; yet others of the greatest 
 consequence were always coming in. I employed eight 
 work-people, and worked day and night together with 
 them, for the sake alike of honour and of gain. 
 
 1 He was Duke of Bracciano, father of Duke Paolo, who married 
 Isabella de' Medici, and murdered her before his second marriage with 
 Vittoria Accoramboni. See my Renaissance in Italy, vol. vi. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 273 
 
 CI. 
 
 While I was engaged in prosecuting my affairs with 
 so much vigour, there arrived a letter sent post-haste to 
 me by the Cardinal of Ferrara, which ran as follows : — 
 
 " Benvenuto, our dear friend, — During these last days 
 the most Christian King here made mention of you, and 
 said that he should like to have you in his service. 
 Whereto I answered that you had ^promised me, whenever 
 I sent for you to serve his Majesty, that you would come 
 at once. His Majesty then ansioered : ' It is my will 
 that provision for his journey, according to his merits, 
 should he sent him ; ' and immediately ordered his 
 Admiral to make me out an order for one thousand 
 golden crowns upon the treasurer of the Excheqiier. The 
 Cardinal de^ Gaddi, who was present at this conversation, 
 advanced immediately, and told his Majesty that it was 
 not necessary to make these dispositions, seeing that he 
 had sent you money enough, and that you were already 
 on the journey. If then, as I think probable, the facts 
 are quite contrary to those assertions of Cardinal Gaddi, 
 reply to me without delay upon the receipt of this letter ; 
 for I will undertake to gather up the fallen thread, and 
 have the promised money given you by this magnanimous 
 King." 
 
 Now let the world take notice, and all the folk that 
 dwell on it, what power malignant stars with adverse 
 fortune exercise upon us human beings ! I had not 
 spoken twice in my lifetime to that little simpleton of 
 a Cardinal de' Gaddi ; nor do I think that he meant by 
 
 VOL. I. s 
 
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274 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 this bumptiousness of his to do me any harm, but only, 
 through light-headedness and senseless folly, to make 
 it seem as though he also held the affairs of artists, 
 whom the King was wanting, under his own personal 
 supervision, just as the Cardinal of Ferrara did. But 
 afterwards he was so stupid as not to tell me anything 
 at all about the matter ; elsewise, it is certain that my 
 wish to shield a silly mannikin from reproach, if only 
 for our country's sake, would have made me find out 
 some excuse to mend the bungling of his foolish self- 
 conceit. 
 
 Immediately upon the receipt of Cardinal Ferrara's 
 letter, I answered that about Cardinal de' Gaddi I 
 knew absolutely nothing, and that even if he had 
 made overtures of that kind to me, I should not have 
 left Italy without informing his most reverend lord- 
 ship. I also said that I had more to do in Rome 
 than at any previous time ; but that if his Most Chris- 
 tian Majesty made sign of wanting me, one word of 
 his, communicated by so great a prince as his most 
 reverend lordship, would suffice to make me set off 
 upon the spot, leaving all other concerns to take their 
 chance. 
 
 After I had sent my letter, that traitor, the Perugian 
 workman, devised a piece of malice against me, which 
 succeeded at once, owing to the avarice of Pope Paolo 
 da Parnese, but also far more to that of his bastard, 
 who was then called Duke of Castro.^ The fellow in 
 question informed one of Signer Pier Luigi's secretaries 
 that, having been with me as workman several years, 
 he was acquainted with all my affairs, on the strength 
 of which he gave his word to Signor Pier Luigi that I 
 
 He had been invested with the Duchy of Castro in 1537. 
 
BOOK FIKST. 
 
 27- 
 
 was worth more than eighty thousand ducats, and that 
 the greater part of this property consisted in jewels, 
 which jewels belonged to the Church, and that I had 
 stolen them in Castel Sant' Agnolo during the sack of 
 Rome, and that all they had to do was to catch me on 
 the spot with secrecy. 
 
 It so happened that I had been at work one morn- 
 ing, more than three hours before daybreak, upon the 
 trousseau of the bride I mentioned ; then, while my 
 shop was being opened and swept out, I put my cape 
 on to go abroad and take the air. Directing my steps 
 along the Strada Giulia, I turned into Chiavica, and at 
 this corner Orespino, the Bargello, with all his con- 
 stables, made up to me, and said : " You are the Pope's 
 prisoner," I answered : " Crespino, you have mistaken 
 your man." " No," said Orespino, " you are the artist 
 Benvenuto, and I know you well, and I have to take 
 you to the Castle of Sant' Angelo, where lords go, and 
 men of accomplishments, your peers." Upon that four 
 of his under- officers rushed on me, and would have 
 seized by force a dagger which I wore, and some rings 
 I carried on my finger ; but Crespino rebuked them : 
 " Not a man of you shall touch him : it is quite enough 
 if you perform your duty, and see that he does not 
 escape me." Then he came up, and begged me with 
 words of courtesy to surrender my arms. While I was 
 engaged in doing this, it crossed my mind that exactly 
 on that very spot I had assassinated Pompeo. They 
 took me straightway to the castle, and locked me in an 
 upper chamber in the keep. This was the first time 
 that I ever smelt a prison up to the age I then had of 
 thirty-seven years. 
 
276 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 CII. 
 
 Signer Pier Luigi, tlie Pope's son, had well con- 
 sidered the large sum for which I stood accused ; so 
 he begged the reversion of it from his most holy father, 
 and asked that he might have the money made out to 
 himself. The Pope granted this willingly, adding that 
 he would assist in its recovery. Consequently, after 
 having kept me eight whole days in prison, they sent 
 me up for examination, in order to put an end if 
 possible to the affair. I was summoned into one of 
 the great halls of the papal castle, a place of much 
 dignity. My examiners were, first, the Governor of 
 Rome, called Messer Benedetto Conversini of Pistoja,^ 
 who afterwards became Bishop of Jesi ; secondly, the 
 Procurator-Fiscal whose name I have forgotten ; ^ and, 
 thirdly, the judge in criminal cases, Messer Benedetto 
 da Cagli. These three men began at first to question 
 me in gentle terms, which afterwards they changed to 
 words of considerable harshness and menace, apparently 
 because I said to them ; " My lords, it is more than 
 half an hour now since you have been pestering me 
 with questions about fables and such things, so that 
 one may truly say you are chattering or prattling ; by 
 chattering I mean talking without reason, by prattling 
 I mean talking nonsense : therefore I beg you to tell 
 me what it really is you want of me, and to let me 
 hear from your lips reasonable speech, and not jabber- 
 ings or nonsense." In reply to these words of mine, 
 the Governor, who was a Pistojan, could no longer 
 
 ^ Bishop of Forlimpopoli in 1537, and of Jesi in 1540, 
 2 Benedetto Valenti. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 277 
 
 disguise his furious temper, and began : " You talk 
 very confidently, or rather far too arrogantly ; but let 
 me tell you that I will bring your pride down lower 
 than a spaniel by the words of reason you shall hear 
 from me ; these will be neither jabberings nor nonsense, 
 as you have it, but shall form a chain of arguments to 
 answer which you will be forced to tax the utmost of 
 your wits." Then he began to speak as follows : " We 
 know for certain that you were in Rome at the time 
 when this unhappy city was subject to the calamity of 
 the sack ; at that time you were in this Castle of Sant' 
 Angelo, and were employed as bombardier. Now since 
 you are a jeweller and goldsmith by trade, Pope Clement, 
 being previously acquainted with you, and having by 
 him no one else of your profession, called you into his 
 secret counsels, and made you unset all the jewels of 
 his tiaras, mitres, and rings; afterwards, having confi- 
 dence in you, he ordered you to sew them into his 
 clothes. While thus engaged, you sequestered, un- 
 known to his Holiness, a portion of them, to the value 
 of eighty thousand crowns. This has been told us by 
 one of your workmen, to whom you disclosed the 
 matter in your braggadocio way. Now, we tell you 
 frankly that you must find the jewels, or their value in 
 money : after that we will release you." 
 
 cm. 
 
 When I heard these words, I could not hold from 
 bursting into a great roar of laughter ; then, having 
 laughed a while, I said : " Thanks be to God that on 
 this first occasion, when it has pleased His Divine 
 Majesty to imprison me, I should not be imprisoned 
 
278 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 for some folly, as tlie wont is usually with young men. 
 If what you say were the truth, I run no risk of having 
 to submit to corporal punishment, since the authority 
 of the law was suspended during that season. Indeed, 
 I could excuse myself by saying that, like a faithful 
 servant, I had kept back treasure to that amount for 
 the sacred and holy Apostolic Church, waiting till I 
 could restore it to a good Pope, or else to those who 
 might require it of me ; as, for instance, you might, if 
 this were verily the case." When I had spoken so far, 
 the furious Governor would not let me conclude my 
 argument, but exclaimed in a burst of rage: "Inter- 
 pret the affair as you like best, Benvenuto ; it is enough 
 for us to have found the property which we had lost ; 
 be quick about it, if you do not want us to use other 
 measures than words." Then they began to rise and 
 leave the chamber ; but I stopped them, crying out : 
 " My lords, my examination is not over ; bring that to 
 an end, and go then where you choose." They resumed 
 their seats in a very angry temper, making as though 
 they did not mean to listen to a word I said, and at the 
 same time half relieved/ as though they had discovered 
 all they wanted to know. I then begun my speech, to 
 this effect : " You are to know, my lords, that it is now 
 some twenty years since I first came to Rome, and I 
 liave never been sent to prison here or elsewhere." On 
 this that catchpoll of a Governor called out : " And yet 
 you have killed men enough here ! " I replied : " It is 
 you that say it, and not I ; but if some one came to 
 kill you, priest as you are, you would defend yourself, 
 and if you killed him, the sanctity of law would hold 
 you justified. Therefore let me continue my defence, 
 
 1 SoUevati. It may mean half-risen from their seats. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 279 
 
 if you wish to report the case to the Pope, and to judge 
 me fairly. Once more I tell you that I have been a 
 sojourner in this marvellous city Rome for nigh on 
 twenty years, and here I have exercised my art in 
 matters of vast importance. Knowing that this is the 
 seat of Christ, I entertained the reasonable belief that 
 when some temporal prince sought to inflict on me a 
 mortal injury, I might have recourse to this holy chair 
 and to this Vicar of Christ, in confidence that he would 
 surely uphold my cause. Ah me ! whither am I now 
 to go? What prince is there who will protect me 
 from this infamous assassination? Was it not your 
 business, before you took me up, to find out what I 
 had done with those eighty thousand ducats ? Was it 
 not your duty to inspect the record of the jewels, which 
 have been carefully inscribed by this Apostolic Camera 
 through the last five hundred years ? If you had dis- 
 covered anything missing on that record, then you 
 ought to have seized all my books together with myself. 
 I tell you for a certainty that the registers, on which 
 are written all the jewels of the Pope and the regalia, 
 must be perfectly in order ; you will not find there 
 missing a single article of value which belonged to 
 Pope Clement that has not been minutely noted. The 
 one thing of the kind which occurs to me is this : When 
 that poor man Pope Clement wanted to make terms 
 with those thieves of the Imperial army, who had 
 robbed Rome and insulted the Church, a certain Cesare 
 Iscatinaro, if I rightly remember his name, came to 
 negotiate with him ; ^ and having nearly concluded the 
 
 * Gio. Bartolommeo di Gattinara. Raflfaello da Montelupo, in his 
 Autobiography, calls him Cattinaro, aud relates how " when he came 
 one day into the castle to negotiate a treaty, he was wounded in the 
 arm by one of our arquebusiers," This confinns what follows above. 
 
LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 agreement, the Pope in his extremity, to show the man 
 some mark of favour, let fall a diamond from his finger, 
 which was worth about four thousand crowns, and when 
 Iscatinaro stooped to pick it up, the Pope told him to 
 keep it for his sake. I was present at these transac- 
 tions ; and if the diamond of which I speak be missing, 
 I have told you where it went ; but I have the firmest 
 conviction that you will find even this noted upon the 
 register. After this you may blush at your leisure for 
 having done such cruel injustice to a man like me, 
 who has performed so many honourable services for 
 the apostolic chair. I would have you to know that, 
 but for me, the morning when the Imperial troops 
 entered the Borgo, they would without let or hindrance 
 have forced their way into the castle. It was I who, 
 unrewarded for this act, betook myself with vigour to 
 the guns which had been abandoned by the cannoneers 
 and soldiers of the ordnance. I put spirit into my 
 comrade Raffaello da Montelupo, the sculptor, who 
 had also left his post and hid himself all frightened in 
 a corner, without stirring foot or finger ; I woke his 
 courage up, and he and I alone together slew so many 
 of the enemies that the soldiers took another road. I 
 it was who shot at Iscatinaro when I saw him talking 
 to Pope Clement without the slightest mark of rever- 
 ence, nay, with the most revolting insolence, like the 
 Lutheran and infidel he was. Pope Clement upon this 
 had the castle searched to find and hang the man who 
 did it. I it was who wounded the Prince of Orange in 
 the head down there below the trenches of the castle. 
 Then, too, how many ornaments of silver, gold, and 
 jewels, how many models and coins, so beautiful and so 
 esteemed, have I not made for Holy Church ! Is this 
 then the presumptuous priestly recompense you give 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 281 
 
 a man who has served and loved you with such loyalty, 
 with such mastery of art? Oh, go and report the 
 whole that I have spoken to the Pope ; go and tell 
 him that his jewels are all in his possession ; that I 
 never received from the Church anything but wounds 
 and stonings at that epoch of the sack ; that I never 
 reckoned upon any gain beyond some small remunera- 
 tion from Pope Paolo, which he had promised me. Now 
 at last I know what to think of his Holiness and you 
 his Ministers." 
 
 While I was delivering this speech, they sat and 
 listened in astonishment. Then exchanging glances 
 one with the other, and making signs of much surprise, 
 they left me. All three went together to report what 
 I had spoken to the Pope. The Pope felt some shame, 
 and gave orders that all the records of the jewels should 
 be diligently searched. When they had ascertained 
 that none were missing, they left me in the castle 
 without saying a word more about it. Signor Pier 
 Luigi felt also that he had acted ill ; and to end the 
 affair, they set about to contrive my death. 
 
 CIV. 
 
 During the agitations of this time which I have just 
 related, King Francis received news of how the Pope 
 was keeping me in prison, and with what injustice. He 
 had sent a certain gentleman of his, named Monsignor 
 di Morluc, as his ambassador to Rome ; ^ to him there- 
 
 ^ Jean de Montluc, brother of the celebrated Marshal, Bishop of 
 Valence, a friend of Margaret of Navarre, and, like her, a protector of 
 the Huguenots. He negotiated the election of the Duke of Anjou to 
 the throne of Poland. 
 
282 
 
 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 fore he now wrote, claiming me from the Pope as the 
 man of his Majesty. The Pope was a person of extra- 
 ordinary sense and ability, but in this affair of mine he 
 behaved weakly and unintelligently ; for he made answer 
 to the King's envoy that his Majesty need pay me no 
 attention, since I was a fellow who gave much trouble 
 by fighting ; therefore he advised his Majesty to leave 
 me alone, adding that he kept me in prison for homi- 
 cides and other devilries which I had played. To this 
 the King sent answer that justice in his realm was 
 excellently maintained; for even as his Majesty was 
 wont to shower rewards and favours upon men of parts 
 and virtue, so did he ever chastise the troublesome. 
 His Holiness had let me go, not caring for the service 
 of the said Benvenuto, and the King, when he saw him 
 in his realm, most willingly adopted him ; therefore he 
 now asked for him in the quality of his own man. Such 
 a demand was certainly one of the most honourable 
 marks of favour which a man of my sort could desire ; 
 yet it proved the source of infinite annoyance and hurt 
 to me. The Pope was roused to such fury by the jealous 
 fear he had lest I should go and tell the whole world 
 how infamously I had been treated, that he kept revolv- 
 ing ways in which I might be put to death without 
 injury to his own credit. 
 
 The castellan of Sant' Angelo was one of our Floren- 
 tines, called Messer Giorgio, a knight of the Ugolini 
 family.^ This worthy man showed me the greatest 
 courtesy, and let me go free about the castle on parole. 
 He was well aware how greatly I had been wronged ; 
 and when I wanted to give security for leave to walk 
 about the castle, he replied that though he could not 
 
 ^ It is only known of this man that he was a Knight of Jerusalem, 
 and had been Commendatore of Prato in 151 1. 
 
BOOK FIRST. 
 
 283 
 
 take that, seeing the Pope set too much importance 
 upon my affair, yet he would frankly trust my word, 
 because he was informed by every one what a worthy 
 man I was. So I passed my parole, and he granted me 
 conveniences for working at my trade, I then, reflecting 
 that the Pope's anger against me must subside, as well 
 because of my innocence as because of the favour shown 
 me by the King, kept my shop in Rome open, while 
 Ascanio, my prentice, came to the castle and brought 
 me things to work at. I could not indeed do much, 
 feeling myself imprisoned so unjustly; yet I made a 
 virtue of necessity, and bore my adverse fortune with 
 as light a heart as I was able. 
 
 I had secured the attachment of all the guards and 
 many soldiers of the castle. Now the Pope used to 
 come at times to sup there, and on those occasions no 
 watch was kept, but the place stood open like an 
 ordinary palace. Consequently, while the Pope was 
 there, the prisoners used to be shut up with great pre- 
 cautions; none such, however, were taken with me, 
 who had the license to go where I liked, even at those 
 times, about its precincts. Often then those soldiers 
 told me that I ought to escape, and that they would 
 aid and abet me, knowing as they did how greatly I 
 had been wronged. I answered that I had given my 
 parole to the castellan, who was such a worthy man, 
 and had done me such kind ofiices. One very brave 
 and clever soldier used to say to me : " My Benvenuto, 
 you must know that a prisoner is not obliged, and 
 cannot be obliged, to keep faith, any more than aught 
 else which befits a free man. Do what I tell you ; 
 escape from that rascal of a Pope and that bastard his 
 son, for both are bent on having your life by villainy." 
 I had, however, made my mind up rather to lose my life 
 
284 LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 than to break tiie promise I had given that good man 
 the castellan. So I bore the extreme discomforts of 
 my situation, and had for companion of misery a 
 friar of the Palavisina house, who was a very famous 
 preacher.^ 
 
 ^ Cellini meats Pallavicini. Nothing seems to be known about him, 
 except that his imprisonment is mentioned in a letter of Care's under 
 date 1540. 
 
 END OF VOL, I. 
 
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