AFTER taking some repose in Paris, I went to visit the painter Rosso,
who was in the King’s service. I thought to find in him one of the
sincerest friends I had in the world, seeing that in Rome I had done him
the greatest benefits which one man can confer upon another. As these
may be described briefly, I will not here omit their mention, in order
to expose the shamelessness of such ingratitude. While he was in Rome,
then, being a man given to back-biting, he spoke so ill of Raffaello da
Urbino’s works, that the pupils of the latter were quite resolved to
murder him. From this peril I saved him by keeping a close watch upon
him day and night. Again, the evil things said by Rosso against San
Gallo, [1] that excellent architect, caused the latter to get work taken
from him which he had previously procured for him from Messer Agnolo da
Cesi; and after this San Gallo used his influence so strenuously against
him that he must have been brought to the verge of starvation, had not I
pitied his condition and lent him some scores of crowns to live upon. So
then, not having been repaid, and knowing that he held employment under
the King, I went, as I have said, to look him up. I did not merely
expect him to discharge his debt, but also to show me favour and assist
in placing me in that great monarch’s service.
When Rosso set eyes on me, his countenance changed suddenly, and he
exclaimed: “Benvenuto, you have taken this long journey at great charges
to your loss; especially at this present time, when all men’s thoughts
are occupied with war, and not with the bagatelles of our profession.” I
replied that I had brought money enough to take me back to Rome as I had
come to Paris, and that this was not the proper return for the pains I
had endured for him, and that now I began to believe what Maestro
Antonio da San Gallo said of him. When he tried to turn the matter into
jest on this exposure of his baseness, I showed him a letter of exchange
for five hundred crowns upon Ricciardo del Bene. Then the rascal was
ashamed, and wanted to detain me almost by force; but I laughed at him,
and took my leave in the company of a painter whom I found there. This
man was called Sguazzella: [2] he too was a Florentine; and I went to
lodge in his house, with three horses and three servants, at so much per
week. He treated me very well, and was even better paid by me in return.
Afterwards I sought audience of the King, through the introduction of
his treasurer, Messer Giuliano Buonaccorti. [3] I met, however, with
considerable delays, owing, as I did not then know, to the strenuous
exertions Rosso made against my admission to his Majesty. When Messer
Giuliano became aware of this, he took me down at once to Fontana Bilio,
[4] and brought me into the presence of the King, who granted me a whole
hour of very gracious audience. Since he was then on the point of
setting out for Lyons, he told Messer Giuliano to take me with him,
adding that on the journey we could discuss some works of art his
Majesty had it in his head to execute. Accordingly, I followed the
court; and on the way I entered into close relations with the Cardinal
of Ferrara, who had not at that period obtained the hat. [5] Every
evening I used to hold long conversations with the Cardinal, in the
course of which his lordship advised me to remain at an abbey of his in
Lyons, and there to abide at ease until the King returned from this
campaign, adding that he was going on to Grenoble, and that I should
enjoy every convenience in the abbey.
When we reached Lyons I was already ill, and my lad Ascanio had taken a
quartan fever. The French and their court were both grown irksome to me,
and I counted the hours till I could find myself again in Rome. On
seeing my anxiety to return home, the Cardinal gave me money sufficient
for making him a silver bason and jug. So we took good horses, and set
our faces in the direction of Rome, passing the Simplon, and travelling
for some while in the company of certain Frenchmen; Ascanio troubled by
his quartan, and I by a slow fever which I found it quite impossible to
throw off. I had, moreover, got my stomach out of order to such an
extent, that for the space of four months, as I verily believe, I hardly
ate one whole loaf of bread in the week; and great was my longing to
reach Italy, being desirous to die there rather than in France.
Note 1. Antonio da San Gallo, one of the best architects of the later
Renaissance.
Note 2. A pupil of Andrea del Sarto, who went with him to France and
settled there.
Note 3. A Florentine exile mentioned by Varchi.
Note 4. Fontainebleau. Cellini always writes it as above.
Note 5. Ippolito d’Este, son of Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara; Archbishop of
Milan at the age of fifteen; Cardinal in 1539; spent a large part of his
life in France.