I HAD formed the resolution, as I said a short while back, to go toward
France; partly because I saw that the Pope did not hold me in the same
esteem as formerly, my faithful service having been besmirched by lying
tongues; and also because I feared lest those who had the power might
play me some worse trick. So I was determined to seek better fortune in
a foreign land, and wished to leave Rome without company or license. On
the eve of my projected departure, I told my faithful friend Felice to
make free use of all my effects during my absence; and in the case of my
not returning; left him everything I possessed. Now there was a Perugian
workman in my employ, who had helped me on those commissions from the
Pope; and after paying his wages, I told him he must leave my service.
He begged me in reply to let him go with me, and said he would come at
his own charges; if I stopped to work for the King of France, it would
certainly be better for me to have Italians by me, and in particular
such persons as I knew to be capable of giving me assistance. His
entreaties and arguments persuaded me to take him on the journey in the
manner he proposed. Ascanio, who was present at this debate, said, half
in tears: “When you took me back, I said I wished to remain with you my
lifetime, and so I have it in my mind to do.” I told him that nothing in
the world would make me consent; but when I saw that the poor lad was
preparing to follow on foot, I engaged a horse for him too, put a small
valise upon the crupper, and loaded myself with far more useless baggage
than I should otherwise have taken. 1
From home I travelled to Florence, from Florence to Bologna, from
Bologna to Venice, and from Venice to Padua. There my dear friend
Albertaccio del Bene made me leave the inn for his house; and next day I
went to kiss the hand of Messer Pietro Bembo, who was not yet a
Cardinal. [2] He received me with marks of the warmest affection which
could be bestowed on any man; then turning to Albertaccio, he said: “I
want Benvenuto to stay here, with all his followers, even though they be
a hundred men; make then your mind up, if you want Benvenuto also, to
stay here with me, for I do not mean elsewise to let you have him.”
Accordingly I spent a very pleasant visit at the house of that most
accomplished gentleman. He had a room prepared for me which would have
been too grand for a cardinal, and always insisted on my taking my meals
beside him. Later on, he began to hint in very modest terms that he
should greatly like me to take his portrait. I, who desired nothing in
the world more, prepared some snow-white plaster in a little box, and
set to work at once. The first day I spent two hours on end at my
modelling, and blocked out the fine head of that eminent man with so
much grace of manner that his lordship was fairly astounded. Now, though
he was a man of profound erudition and without a rival in poetry, he
understood nothing at all about my art; this made him think that I had
finished when I had hardly begun, so that I could not make him
comprehend what a long time it took to execute a thing of that sort
thoroughly. At last I resolved to do it as well as I was able, and to
spend the requisite time upon it; but since he wore his beard short
after the Venetian fashion, I had great trouble in modelling a head to
my own satisfaction. However, I finished it, and judged it about the
finest specimen I had produced in all the points pertaining to my art.
Great was the astonishment of Messer Pietro, who conceived that I should
have completed the waxen model in two hours and the steel in ten, when
he found that I employed two hundred on the wax, and then was begging
for leave to pursue my journey toward France. This threw him into much
concern, and he implored me at least to design the reverse for his
medal, which was to be a Pegasus encircled with a wreath of myrtle. I
performed my task in the space of some three hours, and gave it a fine
air of elegance. He was exceedingly delighted, and said: “This horse
seems to me ten times more difficult to do than the little portrait on
which you have bestowed so much pains. I cannot understand what made it
such a labour.” All the same, he kept entreating me to execute the piece
in steel, exclaiming: “For Heaven’s sake, do it; I know that, if you
choose, you will get it quickly finished.” I told him that I was not
willing to make it there, but promised without fail to take it in hand
wherever I might stop to work.
While this debate was being carried on I went to bargain for three
horses which I wanted on my travels; and he took care that a secret
watch should be kept over my proceedings, for he had vast authority in
Padua; wherefore, when I proposed to pay for the horses, which were to
cost five hundred ducats, their owner answered: “Illustrious artist, I
make you a present of the three horses.” I replied: “It is not you who
give them me; and from the generous donor I cannot accept them, seeing I
have been unable to present him with any specimen of my craft.” The good
fellow said that, if I did not take them, I should get no other horses
in Padua, and should have to make my journey on foot. Upon that I
returned to the magnificent Messer Pietro, who affected to be ignorant
of the affair, and only begged me with marks of kindness to remain in
Padua. This was contrary to my intention, for I had quite resolved to
set out; therefore I had to accept the three horses, and with them we
began our journey.
Note 1. He left Rome, April 1, 1537.
Note 2. I need hardly say that this is the Bembo who ruled over Italian
literature like a dictator from the reign of Leo X. onwards. He was of a
noble Venetian house; Paul III. made him Cardinal in 1539. He died, aged
seventy-seven, in 1547.