BEFORE leaving home, I directed my workpeople to proceed according to
the method I had taught them. The reason of my journey was as follows. I
had made a life-sized bust in bronze of Bindo Altoviti, [1] the son of
Antonio, and had sent it to him at Rome. He set it up in his study,
which was very richly adorned with antiquities and other works of art;
but the room was not designed for statues or for paintings, since the
windows were too low, so that the light coming from beneath spoiled the
effect they would have produced under more favourable conditions. It
happened one day that Bindo was standing at his door, when Michel Agnolo
Buonarroti, the sculptor, passed by; so he begged him to come in and see
his study. Michel Agnolo followed, and on entering the room and looking
round, he exclaimed: “Who is the master who made that good portrait of
you in so fine a manner? You must know that that bust pleases me as
much, or even more, than those antiques; and yet there are many fine
things to be seen among the latter. If those windows were above instead
of beneath, the whole collection would show to greater advantage, and
your portrait, placed among so many masterpieces, would hold its own
with credit.” No sooner had Michel Agnolo left the house of Bindo than
he wrote me a very kind letter, which ran as follows: “My dear
Benvenuto, I have known you for many years as the greatest goldsmith of
whom we have any information; and henceforward I shall know you for a
sculptor of like quality. I must tell you that Master Bindo Altoviti
took me to see his bust in bronze, and informed me that you had made it.
I was greatly pleased with the work; but it annoyed me to notice that it
was placed in a bad light; for if it were suitably illuminated, it would
show itself to be the fine performance that it is.” This letter abounded
with the most affectionate and complimentary expressions towards myself;
and before I left for Rome, I showed it to the Duke, who read it with
much kindly interest, and said to me: “Benvenuto, if you write to him,
and can persuade him to return to Florence, I will make him a member of
the Forty-eight.” [2] Accordingly I wrote a letter full of warmth, and
offered in the Duke’s name a hundred times more than my commission
carried; but not wanting to make any mistake, I showed this to the Duke
before I sealed it, saying to his most illustrious Excellency: “Prince,
perhaps I have made him too many promises.” He replied: “Michel Agnolo
deserves more than you have promised, and I will bestow on him still
greater favours.” To this letter he sent no answer, and I could see that
the Duke was much offended with him.
Note 1. This man was a member of a very noble Florentine family. Born in
1491, he was at this epoch Tuscan Consul in Rome. Cellini’s bust of him
still exists in the Palazzo Altoviti at Rome.
Note 2. This was one of the three Councils created by Clement VII. in
1532, when he changed the Florentine constitution. It corresponded to a
Senate.