The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini

by Benvenuto Cellini

  As I said before, that admirable castellan let me roam at will throughout the castle, and even at night he did not lock me in like the others. He also allowed me to work at whatever I wanted, whether in gold or silver or wax. In fact for some weeks I had been working on a bowl that I was making for the Cardinal of Ferrara, but my imprisonment grew so tiresome that I became quite sick of what I was doing, and so to relieve the strain all I did was work on some little wax figures. The friar stole some of this wax, and with it he began getting the keys made in the way I had so thoughtlessly shown him. As friend and accomplice he had one of the castellan’s clerks, a Paduan called Luigi.

  But when he tried to get the keys made the locksmith betrayed them. As it happened the castellan used to come and inspect my room, and on one of these occasions, when he saw the kind of wax I was using, he recognized it. This led him to say that ‘although poor Benvenuto has suffered an outrageous wrong, he ought not to have treated me like this, especially as I showed him more kindness than I should have done’. He added that in future he would keep me strictly confined, and that he would never again do me the slightest favour.

  So he had me locked up, and it was all very unpleasant: especially in view of what some of his devoted servants said to me. They were very fond of me, in fact, but now they reproached me with all the kindness that the castellan had shown me, and called me ungrateful, untrustworthy, and faithless. One of these servants overstepped the mark with his insults, and knowing that I was innocent I retorted heatedly that I never failed to keep my word, that I would sacrifice my life to prove the truth of this, and that if he or anyone else continued to fling such insults at me I would call them to account for their lies.

  He found this attack so intolerable that he ran to the castellan’s room and returned with the wax and the model that had been made for the keys. As soon as I saw the wax I told him that we were both in the right, but that he should let me talk to the castellan, and I would explain to him the truth of the whole matter – which was much more important than they thought. The castellan sent for me at once, and I told him all that had happened. As a result he confined the friar more strictly; the friar denounced the clerk; and the clerk came near to being hanged. The castellan hushed the thing up, but it had already come to the ears of the Pope. However, he saved his clerk; and he allowed me the same freedom as before.

  When I saw the rigorous measures that were taken I began to think things over.

  ‘If there were another outburst like that,’ I said to myself, ‘and that man lost confidence in me, I would no longer regard myself as being under any obligation: I’d do a little hard thinking, and I’m sure that it would bring me more success than that rogue of a friar had.’

  After this I began to get them to bring me some new, coarse sheets and I did not send back the soiled ones. When my servants asked me for them, I told them to keep quiet about it, as I had given them to some of those poor soldiers, and if this were found out the unlucky fellows would risk being sent to the galleys. So my young men and servants – especially Felice – kept this business of the sheets a close secret. The next thing I did was to empty a mattress, and I was able to burn the straw because there was a fire-place in my cell where I could set light to it. Then I began to cut the sheets into strips, about a third of a cubit wide: and then, when I reckoned I had made enough to descend from the great height of the keep of Castel Sant’Angelo, I told my servants that I had given away all I wanted to, and that from now on they were to bring me better quality sheets and I would always return the soiled ones. The whole incident was forgotten.

  Cardinal Santiquattro199 and Cardinal Cornaro made my workmen and servants close down my shop, and they told me frankly that the Pope had not the slightest intention of letting me go, and that the great favours shown me by the King had done more harm than good. The last words that Monsignor di Morluc had said on behalf of the King had been that the Pope should hand me over to the ordinary court judges, and that if I had done wrong he could punish me, but that if I had not done wrong justice demanded that he should set me free. This had so enraged the Pope that he had made up his mind never to set me free. But I must say that the castellan helped me as much as possible.

  Meanwhile when my enemies saw that my workshop had been closed down not a day went past without their insulting and jeering at my servants and friends, who used to visit me in prison. On one of those occasions it happened that Ascanio, who was in the habit of coming to see me twice a day, asked me if he could have a jacket made for himself out of a blue satin cloak of my own that I never used: I had only once made use of it when I wore it in that procession. In reply I told him that neither the time nor the place was suitable for wearing such clothes. The young fellow was so hurt at my not giving him the wretched stuff that he said he wanted to go home to Tagliacozzo. I lost my temper and said that I would be glad to get rid of him; and he swore vehemently that he would never set eyes on me again. While we were arguing we were strolling round the keep of the castle. The castellan also happened to be taking a walk there, and when we ran into him Ascanio said:

  ‘I’m leaving you then – for ever!’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ I replied, ‘and that it is for ever. I shall tell the guards never to let you in here again.’

  Then I turned to the castellan and begged him urgently to order the guards never to let Ascanio through again.

  ‘My troubles are bad enough already,’ I said, ‘and this silly little peasant only comes to add to them: so I beg you, my lord, never let him in again.’

  The castellan was very upset at this, because he knew that Ascanio was wonderfully talented, and besides this the young man was so handsome that it seemed impossible for anyone to set eyes on him without immediately being greatly attracted towards him. The young fellow went away with tears in his eyes. He was carrying with him the little scimitar that he sometimes wore hidden under his clothes.

  As he left the castle, his face wet with tears, he ran into two of my worst enemies, the Perugian, Jeronimo, whom I’ve mentioned before, and a certain Michele: they were both goldsmiths. This Michele, who was a friend of that Perugian ruffian and an enemy of Ascanio’s, said:

  ‘What’s Ascanio crying for? Perhaps his father is dead? You know – his father is in the castle.’

  ‘He’s alive,’ shouted Ascanio, ‘but you’re going to die this instant.’

  Then he lifted his hand and aimed two blows with the scimitar, straight at his head. The first knocked him down, and with the second, though he was aiming at his head, Ascanio cut three fingers off his right hand. He lay stretched out as if dead. The Pope was at once informed of what had happened, and he said in a terrible fury:

  ‘Since the King wants him to be tried, go and tell him he has three days to prepare his case.’

  The Pope’s order was carried out at once; and then straight away that admirable castellan went along to the Pope and made it clear that I knew nothing of what had taken place, and that I had just driven Ascanio away. He defended me so skilfully that he averted that tremendous fury and saved my life. Ascanio fled home to Tagliacozzo, and from there he wrote to me begging forgiveness a thousand times, saying that he had been wrong to add to my troubles, but that if God allowed my release from prison he would never leave me again. I wrote back saying that he must carry on learning his trade, and that if God gave me my freedom I would certainly send for him.

  Every year the castellan used to be attacked by a disorder that sent him mad; and when it began to come on him he used to talk, or rather babble, without stop. And every year his delusions took a different form: one year he imagined that he was an oil-jar; another year he thought he was a frog, and went jumping about like a frog; another time he was convinced he was dead, and they had to bury him. Every year one or other of these delusions seized him. This time he began to imagine that he was a bat, and so when he was out walking every now and then he would give a high-pitched squeak like a bat and move his arms and body as if he wan
ted to fly. When they saw what was coming his doctors and his old servants offered him every pleasant distraction they could think of; and as they believed he was very fond of hearing me talk they were always coming in for me to keep him company.

  Sometimes the poor man would keep me four or five hours, without my once being allowed to let the conversation flag. I used to eat at his table, sitting opposite him, and he never left off talking himself and making me talk: but during these conversations I used to eat very well. As for him, poor fellow, he neither ate nor slept; and the result was that he wore me down till I was completely exhausted. Sometimes when I stared at him I saw a horrible look in his eyes, with one of them turned in a different direction from the other.

  He began to ask me if I had ever had a fancy to fly. I replied that I had tried to do, and done, all those things that men found most difficult; and as for flying, I said that the God of nature had endowed me with a body that was unusually agile and capable of running and leaping exceptional distances, and that I would be able to make use of the little skill I had in my hands, and so I certainly had it in me to fly.

  Then he started to question me as to how I would do it. I replied that when I considered what animals were able to fly, with the idea of imitating by art what they had from nature, there was none I could possibly imitate except the bat. As soon as the poor man heard me say bat, which tied up with the delusion he had fallen into that year, he started shrieking: ‘He’s right, he’s right! That’s it, that’s it!’

  Then he turned to me and said: ‘Benvenuto, if you were given the chance, would you be brave enough to fly?’

  I answered that if he would give me my freedom afterwards I was up to flying as far as Prati, on a pair of wings made of waxed linen.

  He replied: ‘And I’d have it in me to do the same: but as it happens the Pope has given me orders to guard you as carefully as if you were his own eyes; and I know you’re a clever enough devil to escape, so I’m going to confine you behind a hundred locks to prevent your running away from me.’

  At this I began to plead with him, reminding him that I could have escaped but that because I had given my word of honour I would never have broken faith with him. I begged him for the love of God, in view of all the kindness he had shown me, not to add a greater burden to what I was suffering already. While I was talking he gave strict orders that I was to be tied up and taken to a strongly-barred cell. Realizing that there was no help for it, I told him, in the presence of all his attendants, that he should lock me up carefully and guard me closely, because I would do all I could to escape. Then they led me away and confined me with the most elaborate precautions.

  After this I began to plan how I would have to make my escape. As soon as I saw myself shut in I went round examining the cell. When I thought I had found the way to get out I began to consider how I could descend from the great height of the keep, as that huge tall tower is called. I took my new sheets which, as I have already said, I had cut up and sewn securely together, and started to work out how much I would need to make the descent. When I had calculated the length I needed and got everything ready, I found a pair of pincers, which I had taken from a Savoyard who was one of the castle guards.200

  This fellow was in charge of the pipes and cisterns, and he also did woodwork as a hobby; he had several pairs of pincers, one of them very large and solid. Thinking that it would suit my purpose, I filched it from him and hid it inside the straw mattress. When the time came to make use of it, I began to try the nails that fastened the iron bands. As the door was a double one it was impossible to see where the nails were clinched; so when I tried to draw one out I found it very hard going. But in the end I succeeded. After I had drawn out this first nail, I tried to think what I should do to prevent it being noticed. Straight away I mixed a few rusty iron filings with a little wax, so that it was exactly the same colour as the heads of the long nails that I had extracted. Then, with the wax, I started to imitate the nail heads on the iron bands; and one by one I substituted a wax counterfeit for as many as I had drawn out.

  I left the bands, each attached at the top and bottom by some of the nails that I had extracted and then cut short before replacing. When I put them back gently the nails just secured the iron bands in place. All this proved a very tricky business because every night the castellan used to dream that I had escaped, and as a result every now and then he had my cell inspected.

  The fellow who came to do this had the name and attitude of a typical policeman. He was called Bozza, and whenever he came he brought along with him another man, Giovanni, nicknamed Pedignone: he was a soldier, while Bozza was a servant. This Giovanni never once entered my cell without insulting me. He came from the Prato district where he had been in a chemist’s shop. Every evening he would inspect the hinges on the door and the entire cell, very carefully, and I used to say to him: ‘Have a good look, because I’ve made up my mind to escape no matter what happens.’

  These words made us bitter enemies. So I took great care to hide all my tools in my mattress – that is to say, my pincers, and a fine big dagger, and the other things of the same sort; they were all there, carefully hidden away. And I kept my strips concealed in the mattress as well. I used to sweep my room out myself as soon as it was daybreak; and, although I am naturally fond of cleanliness, at that time I was unusually meticulous. After cleaning up I used to make my bed very neatly and place some flowers on it. I had these brought to me by a certain Savoyard; he was in charge of the pipes and the cisterns, and he was also very keen on woodwork. And it was from him that I stole the pincers that I used to draw out the nails from their hinges.

  To get back to the bed: when Bozza and Pedignone came in, all I used to do was to tell them to keep themselves away from my bed so as not to dirty it and spoil it for me. Sometimes, when they used to touch the bed very lightly just to provoke me, I would shout:

  ‘You filthy cowards! I’ll grab one of your swords and give you a whack that you won’t forget in a hurry. Do you think you’re worthy to touch the bed of a man of my sort? I don’t mind risking my life, since I’ll have yours first. So leave me alone with my suffering and misery and don’t add any more burdens to the ones I have already, or else I’ll show you what a desperate man can be driven to.’

  They reported all this to the castellan, who gave them explicit orders never to go near my bed and not to wear swords when they came to see me; but otherwise, he said, they were to keep a close watch on me. When I had made sure about the bed I thought I had done everything, since the whole enterprise depended on that.

  One evening, it was a feast day, the castellan felt very ill-disposed and all his fantasies began to gain ground: all he would say was that he was a bat, and that if they heard that Benvenuto had flown away they should let him go too, because he would certainly be able to fly better than me by night, and so he would catch me up.

  He kept saying: ‘Benvenuto is a fake, but I’m a real bat: and as he’s been given me to guard, let me see to it and I’ll catch him.’

  He had been in this state for several nights, and he had utterly exhausted all his servants. I got to hear everything through various channels, especially through that Savoyard who was very friendly towards me. That evening, then, I made up my mind that I would escape at all costs. First, I prayed very devoutly to God: I asked His Divine Majesty to defend and help me in such a perilous undertaking. Then I got hold of everything that was necessary, and worked away all through the night.

  Two hours before daybreak, after tremendous efforts, I removed the iron bands: but the wooden door and the bolt offered such great resistance that I couldn’t open it. I had to cut into the wood, but eventually I succeeded. Then I picked up the strips, which I had wound round two pieces of wood, like thread round a bobbin, and went out towards the latrines of the keep. From there I caught sight of two tiles on the roof, and straight away jumped on to them without difficulty. I was wearing a white doublet, a pair of white stockings, and also a pair of tall boo
ts, into one of which I had slipped the dagger that I mentioned before. Then I took one end of the strips and tied it to a piece of ancient tile that was built into the wall of the keep: as it happened the tile jutted out a little, just under four fingers. I arranged the strip like a stirrup. After I had attached it to the tile, turning towards God I said:

  ‘Lord God, help me in this endeavour because, as You know, I have justice on my side, and I’m helping myself.’

  Then I let myself go, very, very gradually, letting my arms take the strain, till I reached the ground. There was no moonlight but the sky was brilliantly clear. When I reached the ground, I stared up at the great height I had descended so boldly; and then, thinking myself free, I moved away with a light heart.

  But I was mistaken, because the castellan had had built on that side two very high walls, to enclose a stable and poultry-yard; the place was closed by two heavy bolts on the outside. Seeing that it was impossible to get out, I was seized with fury. While I was pacing backwards and forwards, wondering what to do, I stumbled on a pole that was covered over with straw. With a great effort I propped it against the wall, and then, using all the strength in my arms, I climbed up it to the top. As the wall was sharply ridged I couldn’t muster enough strength to pull the pole up after me. So I decided to make use of one of the strips that I had wound round the second reel. I had left the other one attached to the keep. So, as I said, I took a length of the strip, tied it to the beam, and climbed down the wall. I was thoroughly exhausted and worn out, and as well as this I had torn the palms of my hands and they were bleeding. So I took a rest, and bathed my hands in my own urine. After a while, when I thought my strength had returned, I moved quickly on to the last wall that looks towards Prati: then I arranged my bundle of strips, intending to attach one end to a battlement so that I could descend this lesser height as I had done the greater one.