WHILE I was pushing forward Salamanca’s vase, I had only one little boy
as help, whom I had taken at the entreaty of friends, and half against
my own will, to be my workman. He was about fourteen years of age, bore
the name of Paulino, and was son to a Roman burgess, who lived upon the
income of his property. Paulino was the best-mannered, the most honest,
and the most beautiful boy I ever saw in my whole life. His modest ways
and actions, together with his superlative beauty and his devotion to
myself, bred in me as great an affection for him as a man’s breast can
hold. This passionate love led me oftentimes to delight the lad with
music; for I observed that his marvellous features, which by complexion
wore a tone of modest melancholy, brightened up, and when I took my
cornet, broke into a smile so lovely and so sweet, that I do not marvel
at the silly stories which the Greeks have written about the deities of
heaven. Indeed, if my boy had lived in those times, he would probably
have turned their heads still more. [1] He had a sister, named Faustina,
more beautiful, I verily believe, than that Faustina about whom the old
books gossip so. Sometimes he took me to their vineyard, and, so far as
I could judge, it struck me that Paulino’s good father would have
welcomed me as a son-in-law. This affair led me to play more than I was
used to do.
It happened at that time that one Giangiacomo of Cesena, a musician in
the Pope’s band, and a very excellent performer, sent word through
Lorenzo, the trumpeter of Lucca, who is now in our Duke’s service, to
inquire whether I was inclined to help them at the Pope’s Ferragosto,
playing soprano with my cornet in some motets of great beauty selected
by them for that occasion. [2] Although I had the greatest desire to
finish the vase I had begun, yet, since music has a wondrous charm of
its own, and also because I wished to please my old father, I consented
to join them. During eight days before the festival we practised two
hours a day together; then on the first of August we went to the
Belvedere, and while Pope Clement was at table, we played those
carefully studied motets so well that his Holiness protested he had
never heard music more sweetly executed or with better harmony of parts.
He sent for Giangiacomo, and asked him where and how he had procured so
excellent a cornet for soprano, and inquired particularly who I was.
Giangiacomo told him my name in full. Whereupon the Pope said: “So,
then, he is the son of Maestro Giovanni?” On being assured I was, the
Pope expressed his wish to have me in his service with the other
bandsmen. Giangiacomo replied: “Most blessed Father, I cannot pretend
for certain that you will get him, for his profession, to which he
devotes himself assiduously, is that of a goldsmith, and he works in it
miraculously well, and earns by it far more than he could do by
playing.” To this the Pope added: “I am the better inclined to him now
that I find him possessor of a talent more than I expected. See that he
obtains the same salary as the rest of you; and tell him from me to join
my service, and that I will find work enough by the day for him to do in
his other trade.” Then stretching out his hand, he gave him a hundred
golden crowns of the Camera in a handkerchief, and said: [3] “Divide
these so that he may take his share.”
When Giangiacomo left the Pope, he came to us, and related in detail all
that the Pope had said; and after dividing the money between the eight
of us, and giving me my share, he said to me: “Now I am going to have
you inscribed among our company.” I replied: “Let the day pass;
to-morrow I will give my answer.” When I left them, I went meditating
whether I ought to accept the invitation, inasmuch as I could not but
suffer if I abandoned the noble studies of my art. The following night
my father appeared to me in a dream, and begged me with tears of
tenderest affection, for God’s love and his, to enter upon this
engagement. Methought I answered that nothing would induce me to do so.
In an instant he assumed so horrible an aspect as to frighten me out of
my wits, and cried: “If you do not, you will have a father’s curse; but
if you do, may you be ever blessed by me!” When I woke, I ran, for very
fright, to have myself inscribed. Then I wrote to my old father, telling
him the news, which so affected him with extreme joy that a sudden fit
of illness took him, and well-nigh brought him to death’s door. In his
answer to my letter, he told me that he too had dreamed nearly the same
as I had.
Note 1. 'Gli Arebbe fatti più uscire de’ gangheri;' would have taken
them still more off the hinges.
Note 2. Lit., “the largest piece left of me should be my ears.”
Note 3. The Camera Apostolica was the Roman Exchequer.