I WENT off in the direction of Santa Maria Novella, and stumbling up
against Fra Alessio Strozzi, whom by the way I did not know, I entreated
this good friar for the love of God to save my life, since I had
committed a great fault. He told me to have no fear; for had I done
every sin in the world, I was yet in perfect safety in his little cell.
After about an hour, the Eight, in an extraordinary meeting, caused one
of the most dreadful bans which ever were heard of to be published
against me, announcing heavy penalties against who should harbour me or
know where I was, without regard to place or to the quality of my
protector. My poor afflicted father went to the Eight, threw himself
upon his knees, and prayed for mercy for his unfortunate young son.
Thereupon one of those Radical fellows, shaking the crest of his twisted
hood, stood up and addressed my father with these insulting words: [1]
“Get up from there, and begone at once, for to-morrow we shall send your
son into the country with the lances.” [2] My poor father had still the
spirit to answer: “What God shall have ordained, that will you do, and
not a jot or little more.” Whereto the same man replied that for certain
God had ordained as he had spoken. My father said: “The thought consoles
me that you do not know for certain;” and quitting their presence, he
came to visit me, together with a young man of my own age, called Pierro
di Giovanni Landi-we loved one another as though we had been brothers.
Under his mantle the lad carried a first-rate sword and a splendid coat
of mail; and when they found me, my brave father told me what had
happened, and what the magistrates had said to him. Then he kissed me on
the forehead and both eyes, and gave me his hearty blessing, saying:
“May the power of goodness of God be your protection;” and reaching me
the sword and armour, he helped me with his own hands to put them on.
Afterwards he added: “Oh, my good son, with these arms in thy hand thou
shalt either live or die.” Pier Landi, who was present, kept shedding
tears; and when he had given me ten golden crowns, I bade him remove a
few hairs from my chin, which were the first down of my manhood. Frate
Alessio disguised me like a friar and gave me a lay brother to go with
me. [3] Quitting the convent, and issuing from the city by the gate of
Prato, I went along the walls as far as the Piazza di San Gallo. Then I
ascended the slope of Montui, and in one of the first houses there I
found a man called Il Grassuccio, own brother to Messer Benedetto da
Monte Varchi. [4] I flung off my monk’s clothes, and became once more a
man. Then we mounted two horses, which were waiting there for us, and
went by night to Siena. Grassuccio returned to Florence, sought out my
father, and gave him the news of my safe escape. In the excess of his
joy, it seemed a thousand years to my father till he should meet the
member of the Eight who had insulted him; and when he came across the
man, he said: “See you, Antonio, that it was God who knew what had to
happen to my son, and not yourself?” To which the fellow answered: “Only
let him get another time into our clutches!” And my father: “I shall
spend my time in thanking God that He has rescued him from that fate.”
Note 1. 'Un di queli arrovellati scotendo la cresto dello arronzinato
cappuccio.' See above, p. 31. The democrats in Cellini’s days were
called at Florence 'Arrabbiati' or 'Arrovellati.' In the days of
Savonarola this nickname had been given to the ultra-Medicean party or
Palleschi.
Note 2. 'Lanciotti.' There is some doubt about this word. But it clearly
means men armed with lances, at the disposal of the Signory.
Note 3. 'Un converso,' an attendant on the monks.
Note 4. Benedetto da Monte Varchi was the celebrated poet, scholar, and
historian of Florence, better known as Varchi. Another of his brothers
was a physician of high repute at Florence. They continued throughout
Cellini’s life to live on terms of intimacy with him.