The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini

by Benvenuto Cellini

  When the Duke was informed that my Perseus was ready for exhibition one day he came along to see it. He showed very plainly how satisfied he was, but turning to some noblemen who were with him his Excellency said:

  ‘For all that the work strikes us as being very beautiful it still has to please the people. So, my dear Benvenuto, before you give it the finishing touches I wonder if you would do me the favour of opening the screen, a little, for half a day, so that it can be seen from my piazza. Then we shall be able to hear what the people think of it. After all, there’s surely a great difference between seeing it enclosed like this and seeing it fully revealed.’

  In answer to this I said humbly: ‘I must assure you, my lord, it will look twice as fine. How can your Excellency forget that you have seen it in my garden, where it was displayed in a wide space and looked so impressive that Bandinello came to see it through the garden of the Innocenti, and for all his malicious, evil nature he was compelled to praise it, even he, who never spoke well of anyone in his life. I know that your Excellency trusts in him only too much.’

  At this he twisted his lips rather irritably but all the same said in an agreeable voice:

  ‘Do it, Benvenuto, just to give me a little satisfaction.’

  Then he went away and I began to see about uncovering it. But there was still some gold missing, and it needed varnishing here and there and a number of other things, so I could not help grumbling and complaining, cursing the wretched day that ever saw me come to Florence. By now I was well aware of the great loss I had ensured for myself by leaving France, and I could not see any grounds for hope as far as serving this prince of mine in Florence was concerned. All the way through, from beginning to end, everything I had done had turned out to my loss and disadvantage. It was with these misgivings that I revealed the statue the following day.

  And then, as God would have it, as soon as it was shown, the people praised it with such unrestrained enthusiasm that I was given some consolation. They never left off attaching verses to the posts of the doors, where I had some curtaining so that I could give the finishing touches. I know that on that day, when it was on show for a few hours, more than twenty sonnets, all praising my statue to the skies, were attached to the posts. After I had covered it up again, every day a host of sonnets were attached there, and with them Latin and Greek verses as well, since it was vacation for the University of Pisa and all the celebrated professors and scholars rivalled each other in what they wrote.

  But what pleased me more than anything else, and gave me hopes of establishing better relations with the Duke, was the fact that my fellow artists, that is the sculptors and painters, also rivalled each other in singing its praises. In this connexion I especially valued the opinion of the talented painter, Jacopo da Pontormo,331 and more than his, that of his excellent pupil, the painter Bronzino.332 Not content with having attached several sonnets to the posts, he also sent me some, through his lad Sandrino,333 to my house; these were so eloquently written, in his incomparably beautiful style, that they helped to console me. So I covered the statue up again and bent all my energies to the task of finishing it.

  The Duke knew about the compliments that had been showered on me by the excellent artists of Florence after they had glimpsed the statue, but all the same he remarked:

  ‘I am very glad that Benvenuto has been given this little measure of satisfaction: it will be the cause of his finishing the work the way it’s wanted with more diligence and speed. But he mustn’t imagine that it will get the same reception when it has been completely revealed and can be seen from every side. More than likely this will emphasize all the defects that there are – and many that there aren’t. So he must prepare to be patient.’

  Now these were the words that Bandinello had spoken to the Duke, citing the works of Andrea del Verrocchio,334 who had made that fine bronze of Christ and St Thomas which is displayed on the façade of Orsanmichele, and also a number of other works, even the divine Michelangelo Buonarroti’s marvellous David which he said only looked impressive from the front. Then he mentioned the infinite number of scornful sonnets that had been written about his own Hercules and Cacus, and he began abusing the Florentines.

  The Duke, who put too much trust in him, had been prompted by him to say what he did, and his Excellency was certain that what Bandinello said would come to pass, since the envious beast never left off speaking evil. On one occasion among many when that scoundrel of an agent Bernardo happened to be present, in an effort to back up what Bandinello was saying he remarked to the Duke:

  ‘You know, my lord, making large statues is a very different kettle of fish from making small ones: I don’t mean to say that he hasn’t done a good job on the small statues, but you’ll find that he hasn’t succeeded with the other.’

  He mixed this nasty abuse with a great deal more, behaving like the tale-bearer he was and telling a mountain of lies.

  Then, as pleased my immortal and glorious Lord and God, I put the final touches to the statue: and one Thursday morning I completely uncovered it.335 It was not yet full day, but immediately such a vast crowd of people gathered round that it would have been impossible to number them. They all began praising it unanimously, and rivalling each other with their tributes. The Duke was standing at one of the lower windows of the palace, above the door, and so, half-hidden inside the window, he heard everything that was said about the statue. After listening there for several hours he rose to his feet with great animation and joy, and turning to his Messer Sforza he said:

  ‘Sforza, go and find Benvenuto and tell him he has made me far happier than I expected, and tell him I’ll reward him in a way that he’ll find astonishing. He’s not to worry about anything.’

  Messer Sforza carried me this wonderful message and I was tremendously encouraged, both because of his good news and because all that day the people kept pointing out to me now this and now that detail of the statue as something splendid and new.

  Among the others were two noblemen who had been sent by the Viceroy of Sicily336 on a mission to our Duke. These two agreeable men came up to me in the piazza (I was pointed out to them as I was passing, and so they ran up furiously) and straight away, with their hats in their hands, they made me a ceremonious oration which would have been excessive even for a pope. I was as modest as possible, but they so overwhelmed me that I began to implore them both to be good enough to leave the piazza, since the onlookers were stopping to stare at me more than at my Perseus. In the middle of their effusion they carried their enthusiasm so far that they asked me to go to Sicily, promising terms that would suit me very well: they told me how Friar Giovanagnolo de’ Servi337 had made them a complete fountain, adorned with a number of little statues, and that they had made him a rich man, though his statues didn’t compare with the Perseus.

  I did not allow them to finish all they would have liked to say, but broke in with the remark:

  ‘I’m more than astonished that you should try and persuade me to leave such a unique lover of the arts as my prince, especially as I’m in my native town, the school of all genius. Believe me, if ever I had an appetite for great gain I could have stayed in France, in the service of that great King Francis, who gave me a thousand gold crowns for my upkeep, and as well as that paid me for all the work I did, so that every year I was handed over more than four thousand gold crowns: and I left in Paris the fruits of the past four years’ work.’

  With these and other remarks I cut their demonstrations short and thanked them for the high praise they had given me, which was the finest reward anyone who had created a fine work of art could ask for. I said that they had so increased in me the will to shine in my profession that I had every hope of exhibiting in a few years’ time another work which would please the splendid artists of Florence much more than the Perseus had done. The two noblemen wanted to carry on with their praises from where they had left off, but I raised my hat, bowed politely, and said good-bye.

  After I had let two days
pass by, with praise for the Perseus mounting all the time, I made up my mind to go and show myself to my lord Duke. With tremendous good will he said to me:

  ‘My dear Benvenuto, you have pleased and satisfied me; but I promise to satisfy you in such a way that will make you astonished, and what’s more I assure you that I don’t intend to wait beyond tomorrow.’

  When I received these splendid promises I immediately gave my whole soul and body in a moment to God, thanking Him from my heart; and at the very same moment I approached the Duke, and half crying with joy kissed his robe.

  Then I said: ‘My glorious lord, faithful and generous patron of the arts and of the men who labour on them, I beg your Most Illustrious Excellency to give me gracious permission to go off first of all for a week, so that I can give thanks to God: I know the tremendous toil it has cost me, and I know that my strong faith has moved God to help me. And in return for that, and for every other miracle He has performed to help me, I want to go on a week’s pilgrimage, to spend all my time thanking the immortal God who always assists those who call on Him with true devotion.’

  Then the Duke asked me where I wanted to go. I replied:

  ‘I shall leave tomorrow, and I shall go to Vallombrosa, and then to Camaldoli and to the Eremo; and from there I shall go as far as the Baths of Santa Maria,338 and perhaps Sestile, because I understand that there are some beautiful antiquities there. Afterwards I shall return by San Francesco della Vernia, and then – never ceasing to thank God – I shall return content to serve you.’

  Straight away the Duke said to me in a happy voice: ‘Go, and then come back to me, for I am really pleased with you: but leave me a couple of lines as a reminder, and then rely on me.’

  I at once wrote a few lines, in which I thanked his Excellency, and gave them to Messer Sforza, who handed them for me to the Duke. The Duke took them, and then gave them back to Sforza, saying:

  ‘Remember to show them to me every day, because if Benvenuto were to return and find that I had not fulfilled my promise I believe he’d kill me.’

  And so, with a laugh, his Excellency said that he was not to be allowed to forget. The Duke’s very words were reported to me that evening by Messer Sforza, who repeated them with a laugh and said that he was astonished at the great favour the Duke was showing me. Then he added very charmingly: ‘Go, Benvenuto, but come back again, though I envy you.’

  Invoking the name of God I left Florence, never ceasing to repeat psalms and prayers for the glory and honour of God during the entire journey, which proved extremely enjoyable since the summer weather was perfect and I was astonished and delighted at the beauty of the countryside I passed through, which I had never seen before. I had brought along as my guide one of my young workmen, called Cesare, who came from Bagno.339 So I was given a very affectionate welcome by his father and all his family, which included an old man of over seventy who was a really delightful person. He was Cesare’s uncle, a surgeon by profession, but he dabbled a little in alchemy. This good fellow pointed out to me that Bagno had a gold and silver mine, and he showed me many very beautiful features of the countryside, so that I thoroughly enjoyed my stay. In his own way he became very intimate with me, and then one day he said:

  ‘I mustn’t fail to tell you something that’s in my mind which would prove very useful if your Duke got wind of it. It’s this: near to Camaldoli there’s a pass so open that Piero Strozzi could not only make his way through but could also sack Poppi without any opposition.’

  And then, not content with having told me, he took a sheet of paper from his pocket showing a map of the whole country which the good old man had drawn so clearly that his information could be seen as very reliable. I took it from him, and straight away left Bagno and went back to Florence as fast as I could, returning by Prato Magno and San Francesco della Vernia. Then, pausing only to take off my riding-boots, I hurried to the palace. I was just by the Badia when I ran into the Duke who was coming along by the palace of the Podestà. As soon as he caught sight of me he welcomed me very graciously, though with an air of surprise, and said:

  ‘But why are you back so soon? I didn’t expect you for another week.’

  ‘I’ve come back on your Excellency’s service,’ I replied. ‘I myself would have been only too glad to have spent a few days’ holiday in that lovely countryside.’

  ‘And what’s the good news?’ asked the Duke.

  ‘My lord,’ I replied, ‘I have matters of very grave importance to show and tell you about.’

  Then I went with him to the palace. When we arrived he led me into a private room where we were by ourselves. So I told him everything and showed him the little sketch-map, which he seemed very pleased to have. When I said that the situation must be remedied without delay the Duke pondered a little while and then answered:

  ‘I can tell you that we have made an agreement with the Duke of Urbino,340 and he is to look after that pass: but keep this to yourself.’

  Then, after he had shown me every mark of favour, I returned home.

  The next day I showed myself at the palace, and after we had conversed for a while the Duke said to me pleasantly: ‘Tomorrow I shall see to you without fail; so don’t worry.’

  Feeling perfectly confident I waited eagerly for the following day, and when at last it came I made my way to the palace. But, as always happens, one is given bad news more quickly than good, and so Messer Jacopo Guidi,341 his Excellency’s secretary, called me and, talking through his twisted mouth, said in a haughty voice: ‘The Duke says that you are to let me know what you want for your Perseus.’

  He held himself as stiff as a rod while saying this.

  I stood there speechless with astonishment. And then suddenly I replied that I never set a price on my work, and that this was not what his Excellency had promised me two days ago. At once, in an even louder voice, the fellow said that he gave me express orders from the Duke to say what I wanted under pain of falling into complete disgrace with his Excellency.

  The affectionate way his Illustrious Excellency had treated me had led me to expect something from him, and, what was more, I had been under the impression that I had won his favour entirely: especially since all I had ever asked had been to remain in his good books. And so this way of behaving – which was completely unexpected – made me furiously angry, above all because of the way the message was delivered to me by such a venomous toad. I said that even if the Duke were to give me ten thousand crowns it would not be enough; and if I had ever imagined that this was to be my reward, I added, I would never have stayed with him. At once the spiteful beast began to hurl insults at me, and I flung them back.

  The following day, when I came to the court to pay my respects, his Excellency beckoned to me and when I approached said angrily: ‘Cities and great palaces are built with tens of thousands of ducats.’

  I immediately replied that his Excellency would find any number of men who knew how to build cities and palaces, but as for making statues like my Perseus, I doubted whether he would find a single one in the whole world. Then straight away, without adding another word or anything, I made off.

  A few days later the Duchess sent for me and told me to leave her to settle the difference I had had with the Duke, since she thought she could arrange everything to my satisfaction. To these kind words I replied that the greatest reward I had ever asked for my labours had been the Duke’s favour, and that this was what his Most Illustrious Excellency had promised me: and I added that there was no need for me to put into their Excellencies’ hands what, from the first day I had begun to serve them, I had been only too glad to leave to them. And in addition I said that even if his Excellency gave me only an old Tuscan penny, worth about five farthings, I would reckon myself a happy and satisfied man, provided I remained in his good books. At this the Duchess, smiling a little, said to me: ‘Benvenuto, you would be well advised to do what I tell you.’

  Then she turned her back on me and went away. I had imagined that the
best thing for me would be to speak in the humble way I did, but as it turned out it was the worst thing I could have done because, despite the fact that she had that small grudge against me, her nature often prompted her to act generously.

  At that time I used to be very friendly with Girolimo degli Albizzi,342 who was commissary of his Excellency’s troops. One day or other he said to me:

  ‘By the way, Benvenuto, it would be wise to settle this quarrel of yours with the Duke, and I assure you that if you put your trust in me I’ll be able to arrange it, and I know what I’m talking about. With the Duke growing more and more annoyed you’re going to come a cropper. That will do for now – I can’t tell you everything.’

  Now as it happened, after the Duchess had spoken to me, someone – probably a rogue – said to me that he had heard that, for some reason or other, the Duke had remarked: ‘For two pins I’d throw the Perseus away, and then the whole dispute would be over and done with.’

  So being anxious as a result of that, I told Girolimo degli Albizzi that I put everything in his hands and that provided I retained the Duke’s favour I would agree to everything he did. Now this good-hearted fellow knew all about soldiering and he was especially skilled with the militia, who are all countrymen, but he didn’t appreciate sculpture at all, and so knew nothing at all about it. When he spoke to the Duke he said:

  ‘My lord, Benvenuto has put himself in my hands and has asked me to plead his cause with your Excellency.’

  ‘And I put myself in your hands as well,’ replied the Duke, ‘and I shall abide by your decision.’

  Then Girolimo wrote a very ingenious letter, greatly in my favour, in which he stated that the Duke should pay me three thousand five hundred crowns, in gold, and that this was not the price of my fine achievement but was to be a contribution towards my upkeep and a way of enabling me to say I was satisfied. I was to be satisfied first of all; and then he added a number of other considerations, all designed to settle the price.