So this Federigo Ginori came along to see me, told me what he wanted, and added that Michelangelo had praised me to the skies. I was to make a little wax model, while the splendid Michelangelo had promised a sketch. I was so inspired by what the great Michelangelo had said that I was eager to start work on the model without a minute’s delay. When I had finished it, a painter called Giuliano Bugiardini,73 who was a great friend of Michelangelo, brought me the sketch. I showed Giuliano my little wax model at the same time. It was completely different from the sketch, and the upshot was that Federigo, and Bugiardini as well, decided that I ought to work from the model.
So I started work on it. When the expert Michelangelo saw it he had nothing for me but tremendous praise. As I said before, there was a figure of Atlas cut on thin plate,74 with a crystal ball on his back to represent the sky. On the ball I had engraved the Zodiac against a background of lapis-lazuli. It was all unbelievably beautiful, and it was completed with a little motto underneath, which read: Summa tulisse juvat.
Federigo was satisfied with it and paid me very generously. At the same time, very often he used to bring along to my workshop Luigi Alamanni who was then at Florence and who was a friend of his. So through him, Luigi and I became close friends.
Then Pope Clement declared war on Florence. The city was put in a state of defence and the militia was organized in every quarter of the town. I had to serve as well. I equipped myself lavishly and mixed with the highest nobles in Florence; every single one of them seemed anxious to help with the defence, and, as usual, speeches were made in every district. Besides this the young men of Florence started to gather together more than before, and never spoke of anything but the war.
On one occasion, round about midday, a number of strapping young fellows, men from the most important families in Florence, were gathered together in my shop when a letter from Rome was handed to me. It had been sent by a man in Rome called Maestro Jacopino della Barca. His real name, in fact, was Jacopo dello Sciorina, but in Rome he was called della Barca because he owned a bark that provided a ferry-service on the Tiber between Ponte Sisto and Ponte Sant’ Angelo. This Jacopo was an intelligent man, as well as being a fluent and witty conversationalist. He had once been a designer for the tapestry-weavers in Florence, and he was now very friendly with Pope Clement, who loved to hear him talk. It seems that one day they were talking together and started to discuss the sack of Rome and the defence of the castle. As a result the Pope remembered me and began to sing my praises, adding that if he knew where I was he would love to have me with him again. Jacopo told him that I was in Florence, and so the Pope ordered him to write to me and ask me to return.
The letter was to the effect that I should enter Clement’s service again, and that it would be well worth my while. All the young men standing round were dying to know what was in it, and I had to keep it from them as best I could. Later on I wrote to Jacopo begging him not to send me letters in any circumstances, good or bad. This only made him more determined than ever. He wrote to me again, such an extravagant letter that if it had been discovered I would have found myself in very hot water. This time I was told, on behalf of the Pope, that I should set out for Rome at once, that he wanted to give me work of the greatest importance, and that if I wished to prosper I should drop everything without delay and not remain fighting against a Pope with a crowd of mad rebels.
When I read this letter I was completely terrified, so I went off to find my dear friend, Piero Landi, and as soon as he set eyes on me he asked what had happened to make me so agitated. I said that I could not possibly tell him what it was that had put me in such a state. All I begged him to do was to take my keys: he was to return the jewels and gold to such and such people – whose names he would find written down in my notebook; then he was to remove all my belongings from my house and look after them with his usual generosity; and in a few days he would learn where I was. This penetrating young man, perhaps half guessing what it was all about, said:
‘My dear brother, go away at once, and then write to me. And don’t worry a scrap about your things.’
That was just what I did. Piero Landi was the most faithful friend, the most wise, the most upright, the most discreet and the most lovable man I have ever known. I left Florence and went back to Rome; and I wrote to him from there.
As soon as I arrived in Rome 75 I looked up some of my old friends and was given a very affectionate welcome. I began work straight away, to make some money, without producing anything that is worth describing. A fine old goldsmith called Raffaello del Moro, who was thought very highly of in the guild and who was a very honest sort of man, asked me if I would like to work in his shop, as he had been commissioned to make some very important things which would bring in an excellent profit. I was only too glad to accept.
More than ten days had passed without my having gone to see Jacopo della Barca, when one day he ran into me on the off chance, gave me an enthusiastic welcome, and asked how long it was since I had arrived. I told him that it was about a fortnight. He took this news very badly and said that I was behaving very disrespectfully towards a pope who had already insisted on his writing to me three times. Having been even more annoyed than he was I choked back my anger and refused to say a word. Then Jacopo, who was quite a windbag, launched out into a speech and talked on and on till, when I saw he was exhausted, I broke in merely to say that he might take me to the Pope whenever he liked. He replied that any time would suit him, and I said that I too was always ready. Then he began to move in the direction of the palace and I went along with him. It was Maundy Thursday, by the way.
When we arrived at the Pope’s apartments, as he was well known and I was expected, we were admitted at once. The Pope was in bed with a slight illness, and he had with him Jacopo Salviati and the Archbishop of Capua. 76 As soon as the Pope set eyes on me he cheered up enormously; I kissed his feet, in as humble an attitude as possible, and then moved nearer to him, letting him see that I had something important to talk to him about.
Straight away he made a sign with his hand, and Jacopo and the Archbishop moved some distance away from us. I at once began what I wanted to say:
‘Holy Father, from the time of the sack of Rome up to now I haven’t been able to confess or to receive communion, because no one will give me absolution. What has happened is this: when I melted down the gold and did all that work taking the jewels out of their setting your Holiness ordered Cavalierino to give me some small reward for my pains. But all I ever had from him was abuse. Now, when I went up to the room where I had melted down the gold I washed out the ashes and found about a pound and a half of gold there, in little grains like millet-seed. And as I hadn’t enough money to take me home respectably I decided to make use of these, and to pay you back when I had the chance. And here I am, at the feet of your Holiness, who is the true forgiver of sins. I beg you to give me your gracious permission to confess and receive communion, so that by the grace of your Holiness I may be restored to the grace of God.’
Then the Pope, sighing gently – perhaps he was thinking of all that he had suffered – said:
‘Benvenuto, I am certainly all that you say – I can absolve you from every fault you have been guilty of, and what is more I want to do so. So don’t be afraid to tell me everything, quite frankly. Even if what you had taken was worth as much as a whole tiara, I am more than ready to forgive you.’
‘Holy Father,’ I replied, ‘all I had was what I told you, and when I changed it at the Mint in Perugia it was not worth more than a hundred and forty ducats. I took the money and went to comfort my poor old father.’
The Pope said:
‘Your father proved himself as talented, upright, and good a man as ever was born, and you are exactly the same. I am very sorry that the money was so little. Such as you say it was, I make you a present of it, and I completely forgive you. Tell this to your confessor, if that is all you have done which concerns me. And then, after you’ve confessed and received co
mmunion, come and see me again, and it will be worth your while.’
When I had left, and Jacopo and the Archbishop had drawn near again, he spoke of me more highly than he could of anyone. He said that he had heard my confession and absolved me, and then he told the Archbishop of Capua that he should send for me, ask if there was anything else that troubled me, and give me complete absolution. He gave him complete authority to do this and, moreover, he was to treat me as kindly as he could.
While I was walking off with Jacopino he asked me out of great curiosity what the long conversation that I had had so secretly with the Pope was all about. He kept repeating this question, and in the end I said that I had no intention of telling him since it had nothing to do with him, and that he should stop asking me.
I did everything that had been arranged with the Pope; and then, when the two feast days were over, I went to see him. He received me even more affectionately than before, and he said:
‘If you had come to Rome a little sooner I would have asked you to remake those two tiaras of mine that we destroyed in the castle. But as they’re of no great value, apart from the jewels, I shall employ you instead on a very important work, where you’ll be able to show what you can do. This is the button for my cope. 77 I want it to be about as big as a small trencher – a third of a cubit – and just as round. The design is to be a figure of God the Father, in half relief, and in the middle I want you to set that big, beautifully-cut diamond, as well as a large number of other priceless gems. A man called Caradosso made a start on it, but he never finished it. I want you to finish the work quickly so that I can get some enjoyment out of it. So go off and make me a good design.’
He had all the jewels shown to me, and then I was away like a shot.
While Florence was being besieged, the Federigo Ginori for whom I had made the medal of Atlas died of consumption and the medal came into the hands of Luigi Alamanni, who shortly afterwards brought it in person and made a present of it, together with some of his finest writings, to the French King, Francis. 78 The King was tremendously pleased with the medal, and that brilliant man Luigi Alamanni told his Majesty something of the sort of man I was, as well as of my artistic talent. He praised me so highly, in fact, that the King showed that he would like very much to know me.
In the meantime I was working away, with all the diligence at my command, on the little model for the Pope’s button. I made it exactly the same size as the morse itself was to be. Many members of the goldsmith’s trade, who thought they could do it themselves, were extremely resentful about it. At the same time there was a certain Michele, who was very expert at engraving cornelians, who had come to Rome and been commissioned to repair the Pope’s two tiaras since he was also a very able jeweller and had a fine reputation. When I began work on the little model, Michele, who was an old man, was very surprised that I had not approached him for advice, seeing that he was a clever craftsman and well in with the Pope. In the end, realizing that I was not coming to him he came to me. He asked what I was doing, and I told him: ‘What the Pope gave me to do.’
Then he said that the Pope had commissioned him to supervise all the work done for his Holiness. My reply to this was that I would have to ask the Pope first, and then I would know what sort of answer to give him. He told me I would regret it, and he went off in a temper.
He got together with all the other members of the guild and when they had discussed the matter they agreed to leave it in Michele’s hands. His next cunning step was to obtain more than thirty different designs of the button from a number of expert draughtsmen. As he had access to the Pope’s ear, he came to an agreement with another jeweller, a Milanese called Pompeo, who was a great favourite of the Pope and related to the head Papal chamberlain, Traiano; 79 and the two of them – that is, Michele and Pompeo – began to tell the Pope that they had seen my model and that it seemed to them that I was not capable of such an elaborate piece of work.
In reply to this the Pope said that he would have to see it as well, and then, if I was not up to it, he would look round for someone who was. Both of them said that they had several splendid designs that were already completed. The Pope replied that he was delighted to hear it but that he did not want to see them before I had finished my model; then he would judge them all together.
Within a few days I had put the last touches to the model, and one morning I took it along to show the Pope. Traiano made me wait while he hurriedly sent for Michele and Pompeo, telling them to bring their designs with them. When they arrived we were shown inside, and they immediately began to hold out their designs for the Pope to see. As it turned out, the draughtsmen, not being jewellers, had no idea how to set the gems, and the jewellers had not given them any instructions (and a jeweller must when he is introducing figures among his gems know how to draw, otherwise his work will be worthless). And so in all their designs that marvellous diamond had been placed in the middle of God the Father’s breast.
The Pope, whose judgement was very sound, saw what had happened and thought they were without merit. After he had inspected about ten of them he threw the rest on the floor, turned to me, who was standing on one side, and said:
‘Let me have a glance at your model, Benvenuto, so that I can see if you’ve made the same mistake as they have.’
I came forward and opened a little round box; the Pope’s eyes seemed to light up, and he cried out:
‘You wouldn’t have done it in any other way, even if you were my very self. The others couldn’t have thought up a better way of disgracing themselves.’
Then a great number of important noblemen flocked round, and the Pope pointed out to them the difference between my model and the other designs. He praised it to the skies, with those two standing terrified and dumbfounded in front of him, and then he turned to me and said:
‘I can only see one snag, Benvenuto, but it’s very important. It’s easy to work in wax; the real test comes when one has to work in gold.’
I answered him eagerly: ‘Holy Father, if it isn’t ten times better than my model, we’ll agree that I won’t be paid for it.’
At this there was an outcry from the noblemen present, and they protested that I was promising too much. But one of them, a very great philosopher, spoke in my favour.
‘From this young man’s physiognomy,’ he said, ‘and from his well-proportioned physique, I am certain of everything he promises, and more.’
‘And that’s why I think so too,’ added the Pope. Then he called his chamberlain, Traiano, and told him to fetch five hundred gold ducats of the Camera. While waiting for the money the Pope examined more carefully the excellent way I had fitted the diamond in with the figure of God the Father.
What I had done was to place the diamond exactly in the centre of the whole work, with the figure of God the Father, gracefully turning to one side, seated above it, and so the design was beautifully balanced, and the figure did not detract from the jewel. With His right hand raised, God the Father was giving a blessing; and beneath the jewel I had placed three cherubs, supporting the diamond with raised arms; the middle one was in full, and the other two in half relief. Round about I had designed a crowd of cherubs, beautifully arranged with the other gems. God the Father was draped in a flowing mantle, from which the other cherubs peeped out; and there were many other exquisite adornments, all enhancing this beautiful work. It was made in white stucco on black stone.
When the money was brought in the Pope handed it to me himself, and then, with great charm, begged me to do the work while he was still alive to enjoy it. He added that it would be well worth my while.
Off I went with the money and the model; and it seemed an eternity till I could begin.
I set to work at once, very diligently, and then at the end of a week the Pope sent word by his chamberlain – a very important Bolognese nobleman – that I was to bring him what I had done so far. On the way, this chamberlain, who was the best-mannered gentleman in all the court, told me that the Pope did
not so much want to see what I had done as give me another important commission. I was to make the dies for the money coined at the Mint of Rome. He told me that he thought he ought to warn me first so that I would have an answer ready for his Holiness.
When I came into the Pope’s presence I showed him the thin gold plate on which, so far, I had engraved only the figure of God the Father. But although it was only done roughly it was much more powerful than the little wax model. The Pope in fact was so flabbergasted that he cried out: ‘From now on I will believe anything you say.’
Then, after innumerable compliments, he added: ‘I want to set you working on something else which is even dearer to my heart than what you are doing now, if you feel you are up to it.’
Then he said that he was anxious to have some dies made for the Mint, asked me if I had ever made any and if I was confident enough to take the work on. I replied that I was willing and confident and that I had seen how they were made, though I had never made any myself.
Now a certain Tommaso da Prato,80 the Papal datary, was present at this interview; and being a close friend of my enemies he took it on himself to say:
‘Holy Father, you’re pouring so many favours on this young man, and he’s so anxious for them, that he’ll be only too ready to promise you a new world. You’ve already set him one great task, and you’re adding a greater one and the result will be that one will hinder the other.’
The Pope, who was really furious at this, turned on him and told him to mind his own business. Then he ordered me to design the model for a gold doubloon. He wanted the design to show the naked figure of Christ, with His hands bound, and the inscription: Ecce Homo. The reverse was to show the figures of a pope and an emperor, both of them holding upright a cross that was on the point of falling, with the inscription: Unus spiritus et una fides erat in eis.
The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini Page 12
