‘So Benvenuto,’ he cried, ‘seeing how fortune has saved us from the first storm, don’t tempt her again or she’ll desert us.’
‘If that’s how you want it,’ I replied, ‘I’m satisfied too.’
Then I turned to Pagolo and Ascanio and said: ‘Spur your horses on. We’ll ride to Staggia without stopping, then we’ll be safe.’
The wounded Milanese cried: ‘God damn all our sins! That’s the only reason I’ve been wounded – because yesterday as there wasn’t anything else to eat I had a little broth.’
For all our trials and tribulations we were forced to laugh a little at this fool and the nonsense he was talking. We spurred on our horses and left Cherubino and the Milanese to follow on at their leisure.
Meanwhile the dead postmaster’s sons ran to the Duke of Melfi,217 and begged for some light horsemen to overtake and capture us. The Duke, knowing that we were the Cardinal of Ferrara’s men, refused to give them the horsemen and also refused them permission to pursue us.
In the meantime we reached Staggia and safety. On arrival we found a doctor – the best they had in the town – and had Pagolo examined. The wound was only skin deep and there was no call for anxiety. So we ordered dinner. Meanwhile Cherubino and that fool of a Milanese appeared on the scene. He kept calling down curses on men who started brawls, and he complained that he was excommunicated, because on that holy morning he hadn’t been able to say a single Our Father. He was an ugly-looking devil, and nature had given him a large mouth, which the wound he received had made a couple of inches larger. What with his prattling Milanese jargon and the silly things he was saying, he sounded so funny that instead of lamenting our bad luck we couldn’t help laughing at every word he said.
The doctor began sewing up his wound and had already made three stitches when he told him to hold off for a while, since he didn’t want him to sew his mouth up altogether, out of spite. He took hold of a spoon and said that he wanted enough of his mouth left open to let the spoon in, so that he would be able to get home to his own people alive. What he was saying and the way he kept wagging his head was so comic that instead of moaning about our bad luck we never stopped laughing. And so, laughing all the way, we went on to Florence.
We dismounted outside my poor sister’s house, where she and my brother-in-law gave us a wonderfully affectionate welcome. Cherubino and the Milanese went about their business. We stayed in Florence for four days, and by the time we left Pagolo had recovered. It was wonderful how whenever we talked about that idiotic Milanese we were forced to laugh as much as our other troubles had made us cry: so we kept laughing and crying at the same time. Pagolo recovered without any difficulty; then we set off for Ferrara, and we found that the Cardinal himself had not yet arrived there.
He had heard about all our mishaps and to express his sympathy he said: ‘All I pray God is that He allows me to bring you safe and sound to the King whom I’ve promised you to.’
He gave me rooms in Ferrara in one of his own palaces, a beautiful place called Belfiore just by the city walls. And he placed at my disposal all I needed for my work. But then he prepared to leave for France without me, and when he saw how much I was upset by this he said:
‘Benvenuto, all that I’m doing is for your own good, because I want to make quite certain, before taking you away from Italy, of what you are going to do in France. Meanwhile, press on as hard as you can with that bowl and jug of mine, and I’ll leave my steward instructions to let you have all you need.’
So he went on his way, leaving me very disgruntled and thinking more than once of clearing off altogether. The only thing that kept me there was the fact that he had freed me from Pope Paul: as for the rest, he left me very dissatisfied, and what he had done was to my great loss. All the same I persuaded myself that the kindness he had shown deserved my gratitude, and I decided that I would wait patiently and see how things turned out. I set to work, with my two young men helping me, and began to make considerable progress on the bowl and jug.
The air where we were lodging happened to be very unhealthy, and so, as summer was approaching, we all became rather unwell. While we were indisposed we went round inspecting the estate. It was very extensive and a mile of open ground was left completely wild. A host of indigenous peacocks were breeding there, just like wild birds. When I discovered this I charged my gun with a certain noiseless powder, and then used to lie in wait for the young birds. By killing one every other day I provided an abundant supply of nourishing food, and the result was that we soon got rid of our sickness. We spent those few months working happily, pushing on with the bowl and jug which demanded a great deal of time.
It was about then that the Duke of Ferrara came to terms218 with Pope Paul of Rome about some long-standing matters of dispute between them concerning Modena and certain other cities. As the Church had a right to them the Duke had to spend a great deal of money in order to obtain peace. I believe that it amounted to more than three hundred thousand ducats of the Camera. At that time the Duke had as his treasurer an old man called Girolamo Giliolo, who had been brought up by his father, Duke Alfonso. The old fellow could not bear the thought of so much money being lost to the Pope, and he used to roam the streets complaining that the Duke’s father, Alfonso, would have used the money to capture Rome rather than have let the Pope set eyes on it: and he could not be persuaded to pay it out. In the end the Duke compelled him to make the payment, and as a result he had such a fierce attack of dysentery that he nearly died.
While he was ill the Duke sent for me and ordered me to make his portrait. I did it on a round piece of black stone, about the size of a little dinner plate. The Duke took great pleasure in my work, as well as in the many pleasant conversations we had together; and this meant that very often he would sit for his portrait for at least four or five hours, and several times he made me have supper with him. The portrait of his head was finished in a week and then he ordered me to do the reverse. The design for this showed Peace, represented by a woman with a torch in her hand, setting alight a pile of weapons. I showed her with an extremely joyful and graceful expression, wearing very light drapery. Under her feet I depicted the figure of Fury, in despair, heavily laden with chains and affliction. I took great pains to perfect this work, and it brought me a great deal of honour.
The Duke could not leave off saying how satisfied he was; and he gave me the inscription for the head and the reverse. The one for the reverse read: Pretiosa in conspectu Domini, meaning that peace had cost a mint of money.
While I was working on the reverse for the medal219 the Cardinal had written saying that I should prepare to leave as the King had sent for me, and adding that his next letter would give details about all he had promised me. I had my bowl and jug safely packed up, since I had already shown them to the Duke.
The Cardinal’s affairs were looked after by a Ferrarese gentleman called Messer Alberto Bendedio; this man had a grave ailment which meant that he had been completely confined to his house for twelve years. One day he sent for me in a tremendous hurry, saying that I must join the post straight away and present myself to the King, who had been insistently asking for me in the belief that I was in France. The Cardinal had excused himself by saying that I was a little ill and that I was staying at an abbey of his in Lyons, but that he would summon me to his Majesty without delay. So he insisted that I should hurry up and travel with the post as quickly as possible.
This Alberto was a very upright man, but he had an arrogant nature that his illness had made intolerable. As I said, he ordered me to get ready immediately and set off with the post. My comment on this was that my art was not carried on in the post, and that if I had to go I intended to travel in easy stages, and take with me Ascanio and Pagolo, the assistants I had brought from Rome. What was more, I added, I wanted a servant on horseback to look after my needs, and as much money as would be necessary.
The sick old fellow came back with a very high-handed reply, to the effect that it was for the s
ons of dukes to travel in the way I had described, but only for them. I retorted that the sons of my profession went about in the manner I had told him, that since I had never been the son of a duke I had no idea how they travelled, and that if he was going to pour such fantastic speeches into my ear I would refuse to go at all. Seeing that the Cardinal had broken his word to me, I said, and that I had been treated to such abuse, I was quite determined never to get involved with the Ferrarese. Then I turned my back on him, and, to the sounds of my complaints and his threats, I walked away.
I went to the Duke in order to let him have the finished medal. He received me with incomparable warmth and courtesy, and he had already told his Messer Girolamo Giliolo that, as a reward for my labours, he was to obtain a diamond ring worth two hundred crowns and give it to the chamberlain, Fiaschino, who was to hand it to me. This was done. One hour after nightfall, on the evening of the day that I had handed over the medal, Fiaschino brought me a ring with a very imposing diamond and recited this message on behalf of the Duke:
‘In remembrance of his Excellency, may this diamond adorn the unique hand of an artist who has done such fine work.’
When day came I inspected the ring and found that the diamond was a miserably thin stone, worth perhaps ten crowns. Since I hardly thought that the splendid tribute paid me by the Duke could be associated with such a scrappy reward, seeing that the Duke reckoned he had given me cause for satisfaction, and guessing that this was the doing of that rascally treasurer of his, I gave the ring to a friend of mine to return to Fiaschino as best he could. The friend I used was Bernardo Saliti, and he did the job admirably.
Fiaschino came back to me straight away, shouting his head off that if the Duke knew I was returning in that way the gift he had so kindly given me he’d be mightily offended, and perhaps I would come to regret it. I replied that the ring his Excellency had given me was worth about ten crowns, and that the work I had done for him was worth more than two hundred. But, to show his Excellency that I appreciated his generous act, he had only to send me a ring of the sort that are worn for cramp (they come from England and are worth about a carlin) and I’d treasure it in remembrance of him as long as I lived. I would preserve it along with my recollection of the courteous message he had sent me because, I said, I reckoned that his Excellency’s great liberality had amply repaid me for my labours, whereas that miserable jewel insulted them.
These words upset the Duke so much that he sent for his treasurer and rated him far more severely than he had ever done before. Then he ordered me, under pain of his displeasure, not to leave Ferrara without letting him know. Finally he commanded his treasurer to present me with a diamond worth up to three hundred crowns. That miser of a man found one worth little more than sixty crowns and gave it out that it was worth much more than two hundred.
Meanwhile the Messer Alberto I was talking about came to his senses and provided me with everything I had asked for. I made up my mind that no matter what happened I would leave Ferrara that very day. But the Duke’s interfering chamberlain had arranged with Alberto that I shouldn’t get any horses on that day.
I had loaded a mule with a great deal of luggage, packing in with it the bowl and jug that I had made for the Cardinal. While I was doing this a Ferrarese gentleman called Messer Alfonso de’ Trotti came up.220 He was a very kind old man and passionately fond of beautiful things, but he was one of those people who are extremely hard to please and who if they ever happen to see something that pleases them are so impressed that they think they will never see anything as good again. Well, when this Messer Alfonso appeared on the scene, Alberto said:
‘I’m sorry you’ve arrived so late, because the bowl and jug that we’re sending to the Cardinal in France are already packed away.’
Alfonso replied that he did not mind at all; then he beckoned his servant and sent him to his house to fetch a jug that he had there, very exquisitely worked in white Faenza clay. While his servant was going and coming, Alfonso said to Alberto:
‘I’ll tell you why I don’t worry whether I see any more vases: the truth of the matter is that I once saw a silver antique vase that was so wonderfully beautiful that no human mind can imagine the like. So I don’t want to look at any other vase in case by doing so I spoil the marvellous impression I have of that one. This antique vase was shown secretly to a discriminating nobleman who went to Rome on some private business. Using a great sum of money as bait he bribed the fellow who was in charge of it and brought it back here, but he has it kept hidden carefully away in case the Duke gets to hear of it and he loses it altogether.’
While Alfonso was telling this long story he did not look at me though I was standing near, because he didn’t know me.
Meanwhile his precious clay model was brought to him, and he uncovered it with so much self-satisfaction and ostentatious self-deception that I turned to Messer Alberto and said:
‘What a stroke of luck for me to have seen it!’
At this Alfonso lost his temper and shouted rudely:
‘And who are you? You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
I retorted: ‘Now listen to me, and then we’ll see which of us really knows what he’s talking about.’
I turned to Alberto, who was an intelligent, serious-minded sort of man, and told him that it was copied from a little silver vessel, of such and such a weight, that I had made at such and such a time for that charlatan of a doctor, Jacomo da Carpi.
‘He was the fellow,’ I said, ‘who came to Rome and stayed there six months, daubing scores of poor gentlemen and noblemen with one of his ointments and fleecing them of many thousands of ducats. It was then that I made him this vase and another, different one. He paid me very meanly for both of them, and now all the unfortunate wretches he treated are miserable cripples. I count it a very great honour that my works should be so highly esteemed by rich lords like yourselves, but I assure you that over the years I’ve tried as hard as I can to improve my skill, and as a result I think that the vase I’m taking to France is much more worthy of the King and the Cardinal than the one that belonged to that quack of yours.’
When I had said this that Alfonso was so impatient to see the bowl and jug that he looked as if he might drop down dead any minute: but I stuck to my refusal. After we had argued for a while, he said that he would go and see the Duke and get his Excellency to make me show it. Then Alberto Bendedio, who was, as I’ve said, a very high-handed man, broke in with:
‘You will see it before you leave us, Messer Alfonso; and there’ll be no need to use the Duke’s influence.’
At these words I went off, leaving Ascanio and Pagolo to show it to them. Pagolo told me afterwards that I had been praised to the skies. Alfonso then wanted to strike up a friendship with me; and it seemed an eternity before I would be able to leave Ferrara and get away from them all. All the good I had got out of the place had been the company of Cardinal Salviati and the Cardinal of Ravenna and of some very talented musicians there, but of no one else. The natives of Ferrara are very avaricious people, and they enjoy robbing others as much as they can: they’re all the same.
Two hours before nightfall Fiaschino arrived and handed me the diamond worth about sixty crowns, the one I mentioned. With a sour face and as briefly as he could he told me that I should wear the ring for his Excellency’s sake.
I replied: ‘And so I shall.’
Then, while he was still there, I placed my foot in the stirrup and cleared off on my journey. He noted my action and words and reported them to the Duke, who lost his temper and would have moved heaven and earth to bring me back.
That evening, trotting all the way, I pushed on more than ten miles: the next day, when I had left Ferrarese territory, I cheered up tremendously, seeing that, except for the peacocks I had eaten which had restored my health, I hadn’t derived any good from the place. We took the Mont Cenis route, avoiding the city of Milan, because of the qualms I had, and then we arrived safe and sound at Lyons. There were
four of us altogether, myself, Pagolo and Ascanio, and a servant; and we had four very good horses. After we had reached Lyons we stayed there for a few days, waiting for the muleteer who was bringing the silver bowl and jug and the rest of our luggage. We had lodgings in the abbey belonging to the Cardinal. When the muleteer arrived we put all our belongings into a little cart and sent them off to Paris. Then we set off towards Paris, running into some trouble on the way but nothing very serious.
We found the King’s court at Fontainebleau, where we presented ourselves to the Cardinal who immediately found us quarters; and for that night we were very comfortably placed. Next morning the little cart arrived. We secured our belongings, and when the Cardinal heard of this he told the King, who at once wanted to see me. I went to his Majesty, taking the bowl and jug with me, and when I entered his presence I kissed his knee and he received me very graciously. I thanked his Majesty for having freed me from prison, saying that a prince such as his Majesty, a man of his unique goodness, was bound to liberate men who had some talent, and especially innocent men like me, and that such generous deeds were written down in God’s book, ranking higher than anything else.
That good King listened till I had finished, behaving with great courtesy, and interposing a few words typical of his fine nature. When I had come to an end he took the bowl and jug and said:
‘I am certain that such beautiful work was never known to the ancients: I well remember having seen all the best works done by the finest craftsmen of all Italy, but I never saw any that moved me more than this.’
The King said this to the Cardinal of Ferrara, in French, and he added a number of other even more complimentary remarks. Then he turned to me and said in Italian:
‘Benvenuto, spend a few days enjoying yourself, set your mind at rest and have a good time. Meanwhile we shall plan how to let you have all you need to start on some fine work for us.’
The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini Page 32
