KNOWING now that I had gratified my father’s honest wish, I began to
think that everything would prosper with me to a glorious and honourable
end. Accordingly, I set myself with indefatigable industry to the
completion of the vase I had begun for Salamanca. That prelate was a
very extraordinary man, extremely rich, but difficult to please. He sent
daily to learn what I was doing; and when his messenger did not find me
at home, he broke into fury, saying that he would take the work out of
my hands and give it to others to finish. This came of my slavery to
that accursed music. Still I laboured diligently night and day, until,
when I had brought my work to a point when it could be exhibited, I
submitted it to the inspection of the Bishop. This so increased his
desire to see it finished that I was sorry I had shown it. At the end of
three months I had it ready, with little animals and foliage and masks,
as beautiful as one could hope to see. No sooner was it done than I sent
it by the hand of my workman, Paulino, to show that able artist
Lucagnolo, of whom I have spoken above. Paulino, with the grace and
beauty which belonged to him, spoke as follows: “Messer Lucagnolo,
Benvenuto bids me say that he has sent to show you his promises and your
lumber, expecting in return to see from you his gewgaws.” This message
given, Lucagnolo took up the vase, and carefully examined it; then he
said to Paulino: “Fair boy, tell your master that he is a great and able
artist, and that I beg him to be willing to have me for a friend, and
not to engage in aught else.” The mission of that virtuous and
marvellous lad caused me the greatest joy; and then the vase was carried
to Salamanca, who ordered it to be valued. Lucagnolo took part in the
valuation, estimating and praising it far above my own opinion.
Salamanca, lifting up the vase, cried like a true Spaniard: “I swear by
God that I will take as long in paying him as he has lagged in making
it.” When I heard this, I was exceedingly put out, and fell to cursing
all Spain and every one who wished well to it.
Amongst other beautiful ornaments, this vase had a handle, made all of
one piece, with most delicate mechanism, which, when a spring was
touched, stood upright above the mouth of it. While the prelate was one
day ostentatiously exhibiting my vase to certain Spanish gentlemen of
his suite, it chanced that one of them, upon Monsignor’s quitting the
room, began roughly to work the handle, and as the gentle spring which
moved it could not bear his loutish violence, it broke in his hand.
Aware what mischief he had done, he begged the butler who had charge of
the Bishop’s plate to take it to the master who had made it, for him to
mend, and promised to pay what price he asked, provided it was set to
rights at once. So the vase came once more into my hands, and I promised
to put it forthwith in order, which indeed I did. It was brought to me
before dinner; and at twenty-two o’clock the man who brought it
returned, all in a sweat, for he had run the whole way, Monsignor having
again asked for it to show to certain other gentlemen. [1] The butler,
then, without giving me time to utter a word, cried: “Quick, quick,
bring the vase.” I, who wanted to act at leisure and not to give up to
him, said that I did not mean to be so quick. The serving-man got into
such a rage that he made as though he would put one hand to his sword,
while with the other he threatened to break the shop open. To this I put
a stop at once with my own weapon, using therewith spirited language,
and saying: “I am not going to give it to you! Go and tell Monsignor,
your master, that I want the money for my work before I let it leave
this shop.” When the fellow saw he could not obtain it by swaggering, he
fell to praying me, as one prays to the Cross, declaring that if I would
only give it up, he would take care I should be paid. These words did
not make me swerve from my purpose; but I kept on saying the same thing.
At last, despairing of success, he swore to come with Spaniards enough
to cut me in pieces. Then he took to his heels; while I, who inclined to
believe partly in their murderous attack, resolved that I would defend
myself with courage. So I got an admirable little gun ready, which I
used for shooting game, and muttered to myself: “He who robs me of my
property and labour may take my life too, and welcome.” While I was
carrying on this debate in my own mind, a crowd of Spaniards arrived,
led by their major-domo, who, with the headstrong rashness of his race,
bade them go in and take the vase and give me a good beating. Hearing
these words, I showed them the muzzle of my gun, and prepared to fire,
and cried in a loud voice: “Renegade Jews, traitors, is it thus that one
breaks into houses and shops in our city of Rome? Come as many of you
thieves as like, an inch nearer to this wicket, and I’ll blow all their
brains out with my gun.” Then I turned the muzzle toward their
major-domo, and making as though I would discharge it, called out: “And
you big thief, who are egging them on, I mean to kill you first.” He
clapped spurs to the jennet he was riding, and took flight headlong. The
commotion we were making stirred up all the neighbours, who came
crowding round, together with some Roman gentlemen who chanced to pass,
and cried: “Do but kill the renegades, and we will stand by you.” These
words had the effect of frightening the Spaniards in good earnest. They
withdrew, and were compelled by the circumstances to relate the whole
affair to Monsignor. Being a man of inordinate haughtiness, he rated the
members of his household, both because they had engaged in such an act
of violence, and also because, having begun, they had not gone through
with it. At this juncture the painter, who had been concerned in the
whole matter, came in, and the Bishop bade him go and tell me that if I
did not bring the vase at once, he would make mincemeat of me; [2] but
if I brought it, he would pay its price down. These threats were so far
from terrifying me, that I sent him word I was going immediately to lay
my case before the Pope.
In the meantime, his anger and my fear subsided; whereupon, being
guaranteed by some Roman noblemen of high degree that the prelate would
not harm me, and having assurance that I should be paid, I armed myself
with a large poniard and my good coat of mail, and betook myself to his
palace, where he had drawn up all his household. I entered, and Paulino
followed with the silver vase. It was just like passing through the
Zodiac, neither more nor less; for one of them had the face of the lion,
another of the scorpion, a third of the crab. However, we passed onward
to the presence of the rascally priest, who spouted out a torrent of
such language as only priests and Spaniards have at their command. In
return I never raised my eyes to look at him, nor answered word for
word. That seemed to augment the fury of his anger; and causing paper to
be put before me, he commanded me to write an acknowledgment to the
effect that I had been amply satisfied and paid in full. Then I raised
my head, and said I should be very glad to do so when I had received the
money. The Bishop’s rage continued to rise; threats and recriminations
were flung about; but at last the money was paid, and I wrote the
receipt. Then I departed, glad at heart and in high spirits.
Note 1. The Italians reckoned time from sundown till sundown, counting
twenty-four hours. Twenty-two o’clock was therefore two hours before
nightfall. One hour of the night was one hour after nightfall, and so
forth. By this system of reckoning, it is clear that the hours varied
with the season of the year; and unless we know the exact month in which
an event took place, we cannot translate any hour into terms of our own
system.
Note 2. Lit., “the largest piece left of me should be my ears.”