AFTER we had been one day in Italy, the Count Galeotto della Mirandola
joined us. He was travelling by post; and stopping where we were, he
told me that I had done wrong to leave France; I ought not to journey
forwards, for, if I returned at once, my affairs would be more
prosperous than ever. On the other hand, if I persisted in my course, I
was giving the game up to my enemies, and furnishing them with
opportunities to do me mischief. By returning I might put a stop to
their intrigues; and those in whom I placed the most confidence were
just the men who played most traitorously. He would not say more than
that he knew very well all about it; and, indeed, the Cardinal of
Ferrara had now conspired with the two rogues I left in charge of all my
business. Having repeated over and over again that I ought absolutely to
turn back, he went onward with the post, while I, being influenced by my
companions, could not make my mind up to return. My heart was sorely
torn asunder, at one moment by the desire to reach Florence as quickly
as I could, and at another by the conviction that I ought to regain
France. At last, in order to end the fever of this irresolution, I
determined to take the post for Florence. I could not make arrangements
with the first postmaster, but persisted in my purpose to press forward
and endure an anxious life at Florence. 1
I parted company with Signor Ippolito Gonzaga, who took the route for
Mirandola, while I diverged upon the road to Parma and Piacenza. In the
latter city I met Duke Pier Luigi upon the street, who stared me in the
face, and recognised me. [2] Since I knew him to have been the sole
cause of my imprisonment in the castle of St. Angelo, the sight of him
made my blood boil. Yet being unable to escape from the man, I decided
to pay him my respects, and arrived just after he had risen from table
in the company of the Landi, who afterwards murdered him. On my
appearance he received me with unbounded marks of esteem and affection,
among which he took occasion to remark to the gentlemen present that I
was the first artist of the world in my own line, and that I had been
for a long while in prison at Rome. Then he turned to me and said: “My
Benvenuto, I was deeply grieved for your misfortune, and knew well that
you were innocent, but could not do anything to help you, In short, it
was my father, who chose to gratify some enemies of yours, from whom,
moreover, he heard that you had spoken ill of him. I am convinced this
was not true, and indeed I was heartily sorry for your troubles.” These
words he kept piling up and repeating until he seemed to be begging my
pardon. Afterwards he inquired about the work I had been doing for his
Most Christian Majesty; and on my furnishing him with details, he
listened as attentively and graciously as possible. Then he asked if I
had a mind to serve him. To this I replied that my honour would not
allow me to do so; but that if I had completed those extensive works
begun for the King, I should be disposed to quit any great prince merely
to enter his Excellency’s service.
Hereby it may be seen how the power and goodness of God never leave
unpunished any sort or quality of men who act unjustly toward the
innocent. This man did what was equivalent to begging my pardon in the
presence of those very persons who subsequently took revenge on him for
me and many others whom he had massacred. Let then no prince, however
great he be, laugh at God’s justice, in the way that many whom I know
are doing, and who have cruelly maltreated me, as I shall relate at the
proper time. I do not write these things in any worldly spirit of
boasting, but only to return thanks to God, my deliverer in so many
trials. In those too which daily assail me, I always carry my complaint
to Him, and call on Him to be my defender. On all occasions, after I
have done my best to aid myself; if I lose courage and my feeble forces
fail, then is the great might of God manifested, which descends
unexpectedly on those who wrongfully injure their neighbours, or neglect
the grave and honourable charge they have received from Him.
Note 1. The text here is obscure. The words 'venire a tribulare' might
mean “to get, by any means, however inconvenient, to Florence.” I have
chosen another interpretation in the text, as more consonant with the
Italian idiom. For Cellini’s use of 'tribulare' or 'tribolare,' see lib.
i. 112, 'andando a tribolare la vita tua.'
Note 2. Pier Luigi Farnese was not formally invested with the Duchy of
Parma and Piacenza until September 1545. Cellini, therefore, gives him
this title as Duke of Castro. He was assassinated on September 10, 1547.
The Landi, among other noblemen of the duchy, took part in a conspiracy
which had its ground in Pier Luigi’s political errors no less than in
his intolerable misgovernment and infamous private life.