WHEN eight days had come and gone, my amendment was so slight that life
itself became almost a burden to me; indeed I had been more than fifty
days in that great suffering. So I made my mind up, and prepared to
travel. My dear Felice and I went toward Florence in a pair of baskets;
[1] and as I had not written, when I reached my sister’s house, she wept
and laughed over me all in one breath. That day many friends came to see
me; among others Pier Landi, who was the best and dearest friend I ever
had. Next day there came a certain Niccolò da Monte Aguto, who was also
a very great friend of mine. Now he had heard the Duke say: “Benvenuto
would have done much better to die, because he is come to put his head
into a noose, and I will never pardon him.” Accordingly when Niccolò
arrived, he said to me in desperation: “Alas! my dear Benvenuto, what
have you come to do here? Did you not know what you have done to
displease the Duke? I have heard him swear that you were thrusting your
head into a halter.” Then I replied: “Niccolò, remind his Excellency
that Pope Clement wanted to do as much to me before, and quite as
unjustly; tell him to keep his eye on me, and give me time to recover;
then I will show his Excellency that I have been the most faithful
servant he will ever have in all his life; and forasmuch as some enemy
must have served me this bad turn through envy, let him wait till I get
well; for I shall then be able to give such an account of myself as will
make him marvel.”
This bad turn had been done me by Giorgetto Vassellario of Arezzo, [2]
the painter; perchance in recompense for many benefits conferred on him.
I had harboured him in Rome and provided for his costs, while he had
turned my whole house upside down; for the man was subject to a species
of dry scab, which he was always in the habit of scratching with his
hands. It happened, then, that sleeping in the same bed as an excellent
workman, named Manno, who was in my service, when he meant to scratch
himself, he tore the skin from one of Manno’s legs with his filthy
claws, the nails of which he never used to cut. The said Manno left my
service, and was resolutely bent on killing him. I made the quarrel up,
and afterwards got Giorgio into Cardinal de’ Medici’s household, and
continually helped him. For these deserts, then, he told Duke Alessandro
that I had abused his Excellency, and had bragged I meant to be the
first to leap upon the walls of Florence with his foes the exiles. These
words, as I afterwards learned, had been put into Vasari’s lips by that
excellent fellow, [3] Ottaviano de’ Medici, who wanted to revenge
himself for the Duke’s irritation against him, on account of the coinage
and my departure from Florence. I, being innocent of the crime falsely
ascribed to me, felt no fear whatever. Meanwhile that able physician
Francesco da Monte Varchi attended to my cure with great skill. He had
been brought by my very dear friend Luca Martini, who passed the larger
portion of the day with me. 4
Note 1. 'Un paio di ceste,' a kind of litter, here described in the
plural, because two of them were perhaps put together. I have thought it
best to translate the phrase literally. From a letter of Varchi to
Bembo, we learn that Cellini reached Florence, November 9, 1535.
Note 2. This is the famous Giorgio Vasari, a bad painter and worse
architect, but dear to all lovers of the arts for his anecdotic work
upon Italian artists.
Note 3. 'Galantuomo,' used ironically,
Note 4. Luca Martini was a member of the best literary society in his
days, and the author of some famous burlesque pieces.