MANY weeks passed, but of me nothing more was spoken. This neglect drove
me half mad with despair. Now about that time the Queen of France sent
Messer Baccio del Bene to our Duke for a loan of money, which the Duke
very graciously supplied, as rumour went. Messer Baccio del Bene and I
had been intimate friends in former times; so when we renewed our
acquaintance in Florence, we came together with much mutual
satisfaction. In course of conversation he related all the favours shown
him by his most illustrious Excellency, and asked me what great works I
had in hand. In reply, I narrated the whole story of the Neptune and the
fountain, and the great wrong done me by the Duchess. He responded by
telling me how her Majesty of France was most eager to complete the
monument of her husband Henri II., and how Daniello da Volterra [1] had
undertaken a great equestrian statue in bronze, but the time had already
elapsed in which he promised to perform it, and that a multitude of the
richest ornaments were required for the tomb. If, then, I liked to
return to France and occupy my castle, she would supply me with all the
conveniences I could ask for, provided only I cared to enter her
service. These proposals he made on the part of the Queen. I told Messer
Baccio to beg me from the Duke; if his most illustrious Excellency was
satisfied, I should very willingly return to France. He answered
cheerfully: “We will travel back together!” and considered the affair
settled. Accordingly, next day, in course of conversation with the Duke,
he alluded to myself, declaring that if his Excellency had no objection,
the Queen would take me into her employ. The Duke replied without a
moment’s hesitation: “Benvenuto’s ability in his profession is known to
the whole world; but at the present time he does not care to go on
working.” Then they touched on other topics; and upon the day following
I called on Messer Baccio, who reported what had passed between them.
Then I lost all patience, and exclaimed: “Oh, me! His most illustrious
Excellency gave me nothing to do, while I was bringing to perfection one
of the most difficult master-pieces ever executed in this world; and it
stands me in more than two hundred crowns, which I have paid out of my
poverty! Oh, what could I not have done if his Excellency had but set me
to work! I tell you in pure truth, that they have done me a great
wrong!” The good-natured gentleman repeated to the Duke what I had
answered. The Duke told him we were joking, and that he wanted me for
his own service. The result was that in my irritation I more than once
made up my mind to make off without asking leave. However, the Queen
preferred to drop negotiations, in fear of displeasing the Duke; and so
I remained here, much to my regret.
Note 1. This painter is chiefly famous for his “Descent from the Cross”
in the Church of the Trinità de’ Monti at Rome. He died in 1566.