Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini Vol 1 — Chapters 57-61

LVII

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

” That beast of a Cardinal sent for me after eight days, bidding me bring the piece up.

On this I went to him without the piece.

No sooner had I shown my face, than he called out: “Where is that onion-stew of yours?

[1] Have you got it ready?

” I answered: “O most reverend Monsignor, I have not got my onion-stew ready, nor shall I make it ready, unless you give me onions to concoct it with.

” At these words the Cardinal, who looked more like a donkey than a man, turned uglier by half than he was naturally; and wanting at once to cut the matter short, cried out: “I’ll send you to a galley, and then perhaps you’ll have the grace [2] to go on with your labour.

” The bestial manners of the man made me a beast too; and I retorted: “Monsignor, send me to the galleys when I’ve done deeds worthy of them; but for my present laches, I snap my fingers at your galleys: and what is more, I tell you that, just because of you, I will not set hand further to my piece.

Don’t send for me again, for I won’t appear, no, not if you summon me by the police.

” After this, the good Cardinal tried several times to let me know that I ought to go on working, and to bring him what I was doing to look at.

I

only told his messengers: “Say to Monsignor that he must send me onions, if he wants me to get my stew ready.

” Nor gave I ever any other answer;

so that he threw up the commission in despair.

Note 1. 'Cipollata.'

Literally, a show of onions and pumpkins;

metaphorically, a mess, gallimaufry.

Note 2. 'Arai di grazia di.'

I am not sure whether I have given the right shade of meaning in the text above.

It may mean: 'You will be permitted.'

LVIII

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

He was in the hottest rage imaginable, and bade me come upon the instant with my piece.

I obeyed.

Now, while the Pope was staying at Bologna, I had suffered from an attack of inflammation in the eyes, so painful that I scarce could go on living for the torment; and this was the chief reason why I had not carried out my work.

The trouble was so serious that I expected for certain to be left without my eyesight; and I had reckoned up the sum on which I could subsist, if I were blind for life.

Upon the way to the Pope, I turned over in my mind what I should put forward to excuse myself for not having been able to advance his work.

I

thought that while he was inspecting the chalice, I might tell him of my personal 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 infirmidy has blinded me, am I bound to go on working?

” He retorted: “You saw well enough to make your way hither, and I don’t believe one word of what you say.

” I answered, for I noticed he had dropped his voice a little: “Let your Holiness inquire of your physician, and you will find the truth out.

” He said: “So ho!

softly; at leisure we shall hear if what you say is so.

” Then, perceiving that he was willing to give me hearing, I added: “I am convinced that the only cause of this great trouble which has happened to me is Cardinal Salviati; for he sent to me immediately after your holiness’ departure, and when I presented myself, he called my work a stew of onions, and told me he would send me to complete it in a galley; and such was the effect upon me of his knavish words, that in my passion I felt my face in flame, and so intolerable a heat attacked my eyes that I could not find my own way home.

Two days afterwards, cataracts fell on both my eyes; I quite lost my sight, and after your holiness’ departure I have been unable to work at all.

” Rising from my knees, I left the presence without further license.

It was afterwards reported to me that the Pope has said: “One can give commissions, but not the prudence to perform them.

I did not tell the Cardinal to go so brutally about this business.

[1] If it is true that he is suffering from his eyes, of which I shall get information through my doctor, one ought to make allowance for him.

” A great gentleman, intimate with the Pope, and a man of very distinguished parts, happened to be present.

He asked who I was, using terms like these: “Most blessed Father, pardon if I put a question.

I have seen you yield at one and the same time to the hottest anger I ever observed, and then to the warmest compassion; so I beg your Holiness to tell me who the man is; for if he is a person worthy to be helped, I can teach him a secret which may cure him of that infirmity.

” The Pope replied: “He is the greatest artist who was ever born in his own craft; one day, when we are together, I will show you some of his marvellous works, and the man himself to boot; and I shall be pleased if we can see our way toward doing something to assist him.

” Three days after this, the Pope sent for me after dinnertime, 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 looking at it, that he had never seen a more stupendous 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.

Note 1. 'Che mettessi tanta mazza.'

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 six-pences, 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 according to their methods, but derived no benefit.

At last, then, I resolved on taking the wood, against the advice of the first physicians in Rome; [1] and I took it with the most scrupulous discipline and rules of abstinence that could be thought of; and after a few days, I perceived 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 I took if 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 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 working; both the chalice and the Mint had certainly as much of my attention as was due to them and to myself.

Note 1. That is, Guiacum, called by the Italians 'legno santo.'

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 suspended 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 permission 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 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 candlestick, 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 understand 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.

[1] 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 Rome, 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.

[2] I

replied that 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 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 flour?

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 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 indisposed 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.

[3] 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.

Note 1. The word I have translated 'pyxes' is 'ciborii,' vessels for holding the Eucharist.

Note 2. The Master of the Wardrobe was at that time Giovanni Aleotti.

I

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.

Note 3. Vasari mentions a Girolamo Fagiuoli, who flourished at this period but calls him a Bolognese.

LXI

AFTER the lapse of three days, on a Thursday, there came to me two favourite Chamberlains of his Holiness; 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 hath 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: “O 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 my actions.

Now that it is thy will that I should go to prison, with all my heart I thank thee for this dispensation.

” Thereat I turned round to the two Chamberlains, and addressed them 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 Il Magalotto.

[1] When I reached him (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 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 up 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 four 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.

Likewise, 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 threats do not frighten 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 merchants 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.

Note 1. Gregorio Magalotti was a Roman.

The Procurator-Fiscal was 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.