XCIX

WHEN we had crossed the mountains of the Simplon, we came to a river

near a place called Indevedro. [1] It was broad and very deep, spanned

by a long narrow bridge without ramparts. That morning a thick white

frost had fallen; and when I reached the bridge, riding before the rest,

I recognised how dangerous it was, and bade my servants and young men

dismount and lead their horses. So I got across without accident, and

rode on talking with one of the Frenchmen, whose condition was that of a

gentleman. The other, who was a scrivener, lagged a little way behind,

jeering the French gentleman and me because we had been so frightened by

nothing at all as to give ourselves the trouble of walking. I turned

round, and seeing him upon the middle of the bridge, begged him to come

gently, since the place was very dangerous. The fellow, true to his

French nature, cried out in French that I was a man of poor spirit, and

that there was no danger whatsoever. While he spoke these words and

urged his horse forward, the animal suddenly slipped over the bridge,

and fell with legs in air close to a huge rock there was there. Now God

is very often merciful to madmen; so the two beasts, human and equine,

plunged together into a deep wide pool, where both of them went down

below the water. On seeing what had happened, I set off running at full

speed, scrambled with much difficulty on to the rock, and dangling over

from it, seized the skirt of the scrivener’s gown and pulled him up, for

he was still submerged beneath the surface. He had drunk his bellyful of

water, and was within an ace of being drowned. I then, beholding him out

of danger, congratulated the man upon my having been the means of

rescuing his life. The fellow to this answered me in French, that I had

done nothing; the important things to save were his writings, worth many

scores of crowns; and these words he seemed to say in anger, dripping

wet and spluttering the while. Thereupon, I turned round to our guides,

and ordered them to help the brute, adding that I would see them paid.

One of them with great address and trouble set himself to the business,

and picked up all the fellow’s writings, so that he lost not one of

them: the other guide refused to trouble himself by rendering any

assistance.

I ought here to say that we had made a purse up, and that I performed

the part of paymaster. So, when we reached the place I mentioned, and

had dined, I drew some coins from the common purse and gave them to the

guide who helped to draw him from the water. Thereupon the fellow called

out that I might pay them out of my own pocket; he had no intention of

giving the man more than what had been agreed on for his services as

guide. Upon this I retorted with insulting language. Then the other

guide, who had done nothing, came up and demanded to be rewarded also. I

told him that the one who had borne the cross deserved the recompense.

He cried out that he would presently show me a cross which should make

me repent. I replied that I would light a candle at that cross, which

should, I hoped, make him to be the first to weep his folly. The village

we were in lay on the frontier between Venice and the Germans. So the

guide ran off to bring the folk together, and came, followed by a crowd,

with a boar-spear in his hand. Mounted on my good steed, I lowered the

barrel of my arquebuse, and turning to my comrades, cried: “At the first

shot I shall bring that fellow down; do you likewise your duty, for

these are highway robbers, who have used this little incident to

contrive our murder.” The innkeeper at whose house we had dined called

one of the leaders, an imposing old man, and begged him to put a stop to

the disorder, saying: “This is a most courageous young man; you may cut

him to pieces, but he will certainly kill a lot of you, and perhaps will

escape your hands after doing all the mischief he is able.” So matters

calmed down: and the old man, their leader, said to me: “Go in peace;

you would not have much to boast of against us, even if you had a

hundred men to back you.” I recognised the truth of his words, and had

indeed made up my mind to die among them; therefore, when no further

insults were cast at me, I shook my head and exclaimed: “I should

certainly have done my utmost to prove I am no statue, but a man of

flesh and spirit.” Then we resumed our journey; and that evening, at the

first lodging we came to, settled our accounts together. There I parted

for ever from that beast of a Frenchman, remaining on very friendly

terms with the other, who was a gentleman. Afterwards I reached Ferrara,

with my three horses and no other company.

Having dismounted, I went to court in order to pay my reverence to the

Duke, and gain permission to depart next morning for Loreto. When I had

waited until two hours after nightfall, his Excellency appeared. I

kissed his hands; he received me with much courtesy, and ordered that

water should be brought for me to wash my hands before eating. To this

compliment I made a pleasant answer: “Most excellent lord, it is now

more than four months that I have eaten only just enough to keep life

together; knowing therefore that I could not enjoy the delicacies of

your royal table, I will stay and talk with you while your Excellency is

supping; in this way we shall both have more pleasure than if I were to

sup with you.” Accordingly, we entered into conversation, and prolonged

it for the next three hours. At that time I took my leave, and when I

got back to the inn, found a most excellent meal ready; for the Duke had

sent me the plates from his own banquet, together with some famous wine.

Having now fasted two full hours beyond my usual hour for supping, I

fell to with hearty appetite; and this was the first time since four

months that I felt the power or will to eat.

Note 1. Probably the Doveria in the Valdivedro.

C

LEAVING Ferrara in the morning, I went to Santa Maria at Loreto; and

thence, having performed my devotions, pursued the journey to Rome.

There I found my most faithful Felice, to whom I abandoned my old shop

with all its furniture and appurtenances, and opened another, much

larger and roomier, next to Sugherello, the perfumer. I thought for

certain that the great King Francis would not have remembered me.

Therefore I accepted commissions from several noblemen; and in the

meanwhile began the bason and jug ordered by the Cardinal Ferrara. I had

a crowd of workmen, and many large affairs on hand in gold and silver.

Now the arrangement I had made with that Perugian workman [1] was that

he should write down all the monies which had been disbursed on his

account, chiefly for clothes and divers other sundries; and these,

together with the costs of travelling, amounted to about seventy crowns.

We agreed that he should discharge the debt by monthly payments of three

crowns; and this he was well able to do, since he gained more than eight

through me. At the end of two months the rascal decamped from my shop,

leaving me in the lurch with a mass of business on my hands, and saying

that he did not mean to pay me a farthing more. I was resolved to seek

redress, but allowed myself to be persuaded to do so by the way of

justice. At first I thought of lopping off an arm of his; and assuredly

I should have done so, if my friends had not told me that it was a

mistake, seeing I should lose my money and perhaps Rome too a second

time, forasmuch as blows cannot be measured, and that with the agreement

I held of his I could at any moment have him taken up. I listened to

their advice, though I should have liked to conduct the affair more

freely. As a matter of fact, I sued him before the auditor of the

Camera, and gained by suit; in consequence of that decree, for which I

waited several months, I had him thrown into prison. At the same time I

was overwhelmed with large commissions; among others, I had to supply

all the ornaments of gold and jewels for the wife of Signor Gierolimo

Orsino, father of Signor Paolo, who is now the son-in-law of our Duke

Cosimo. [2] These things I had nearly finished; yet others of the

greatest consequence were always coming in. I employed eight

work-people, and worked day and night together with them, for the sake

alike of honour and of gain.

Note 1. In his 'Ricordi' Cellini calls the man Girolamo Pascucci.

Note 2. He was Duke of Bracciano, father of Duke Paolo, who married

Isabella de’ Medici, and murdered her before his second marriage with

Vittoria Accoramboni. See my 'Renaissance in Italy,' vol. vi.