MY ancestors dwelt in Val d’ Ambra, where they owned large estates, and
lived like little lords, in retirement, however, on account of the then
contending factions. They were all men devoted to arms and of notable
bravery. In that time one of their sons, the younger, who was called
Cristofano, roused a great feud with certain of their friends and
neighbours. Now the heads of the families on both sides took part in it,
and the fire kindled seemed to them so threatening that their houses
were like to perish utterly; the elders upon this consideration, in
concert with my own ancestors, removed Cristofano; and the other youth
with whom the quarrel began was also sent away. They sent their young
man to Siena. Our folk sent Cristofano to Florence; and there they
bought for him a little house in Via Chiara, close to the convent of S.
Orsola, and they also purchased for him some very good property near the
Ponte a Rifredi. The said Cristofano took wife in Florence, and had sons
and daughters; and when all the daughters had been portioned off, the
sons, after their father’s death, divided what remained. The house in
Via Chiara with some other trifles fell to the share of one of the said
sons, who had the name of Andrea. He also took wife, and had four male
children. The first was called Girolamo, the second Bartolommeo, the
third Giovanni, who was afterwards my father, and the fourth Francesco.
This Andrea Cellini was very well versed in architecture, as it was then
practised, and lived by it as his trade. Giovanni, who was my father,
paid more attention to it than any of the other brothers. And since
Vitruvius says, amongst other things, that one who wishes to practise
that art well must have something of music and good drawing, Giovanni,
when he had mastered drawing, began to turn his mind to music, and
together with the theory learned to play most excellently on the viol
and the flute; and being a person of studious habits, he left his home
but seldom.
They had for neighbour in the next house a man called Stefano Granacci,
who had several daughters, all of them of remarkable beauty. As it
pleased God, Giovanni noticed one of these girls who was named
Elisabetta; and she found such favour with him that he asked her in
marriage. The fathers of both of them being well acquainted through
their close neighbourhood, it was easy to make this match up; and each
thought that he had very well arranged his affairs. First of all the two
good old men agreed upon the marriage; then they began to discuss the
dowry, which led to a certain amount of friendly difference; for Andrea
said to Stefano: “My son Giovanni is the stoutest youth of Florence, and
of all Italy to boot, and if I had wanted earlier to have him married, I
could have procured one of the largest dowries which folk of our rank
get in Florence:” whereupon Stefano answered: “You have a thousand
reasons on your side; but here am I with five daughters and as many
sons, and when my reckoning is made, this is as much as I can possibly
afford.” Giovanni, who had been listening awhile unseen by them,
suddenly broke in and said: “O my father, I have sought and loved that
girl and not their money. Ill luck to those who seek to fill their
pockets by the dowry of their wife! As you have boasted that I am a
fellow of such parts, do you not think that I shall be able to provide
for my wife and satisfy her needs, even if I receive something short of
the portion you would like to get? Now I must make you understand that
the woman is mine, and you may take the dowry for yourself.” At this
Andrea Cellini, who was a man of rather awkward temper, grew a trifle
angry; but after a few days Giovanni took his wife, and never asked for
other portion with her.
They enjoyed their youth and wedded love through eighteen years, always
greatly desiring to be blessed with children. At the end of this time
Giovanni’s wife miscarried of two boys through the unskilfulness of the
doctors. Later on she was again with child, and gave birth to a girl,
whom they called Cosa, after the mother of my father. [1] At the end of
two years she was once more with child; and inasmuch as those longings
to which pregnant women are subject, and to which they pay much
attention, were now exactly the same as those of her former pregnancy,
they made their minds up that she would give birth to a female as
before, and agreed to call the child Reparata, after the mother of my
mother. It happened that she was delivered on a night of All Saints,
following the feast-day, at half-past four precisely, in the year 1500.
[2] The midwife, who knew that they were expecting a girl, after she had
washed the baby and wrapped it in the fairest white linen, came softly
to my father Giovanni and said: “I am bringing you a fine present, such
as you did not anticipate.” My father, who was a true philosopher, was
walking up and down, and answered: “What God gives me is always dear to
me;” and when he opened the swaddling clothes, he saw with his own eyes
the unexpected male child. Joining together the palms of his old hands,
he raised them with his eyes to God, and said “Lord, I thank Thee with
my whole heart; this gift is very dear to me; let him be Welcome.” All
the persons who were there asked him joyfully what name the child should
bear. Giovanni would make no other answer than “Let him be
Welcome-Benvenuto;” [3] and so they resolved, and this name was given me
at Holy Baptism, and by it I still am living with the grace of God.
Note 1. Cosa is Florentine for Niccolòsa.
Note 2. The hour is reckoned, according to the old Italian fashion, from
sunset of one day to sunset of the next-twenty-four hours.
Note 3. Benvenuto means Welcome.