gain entrance to the Louvre?"
"Your name will be given at the gates, with orders to introduce you to
my presence."
Cellini bowed, and with Pagolo and Ascanio, escorted the king and court
to the street. At the door he knelt and kissed the king's hand.
"Sire," he said with deep feeling, "you have heretofore saved me from
captivity, perhaps from death, through the intervention of Monseigneur
de Montluc; you have overwhelmed me with wealth, you have honored my
poor studio with your presence; but far more than all this, Sire, is the
fact, and I know not how to thank you that it is so, that you so
magnificently anticipate all my dreams. We ordinarily work only for a
chosen few scattered through the centuries, but I shall have, had the
signal honor of finding a living judge, always present, always
enlightened. Until now I have been only the workman of the future;
permit me henceforth to call myself your Majesty's goldsmith."
"My workman, my goldsmith, my artist, and my friend, Benvenuto, if the
last title seems to you no more deserving of contempt than the others.
Adieu, or rather, _au revoir_."
It is needless to say that all the princes and nobles followed the
example set by the king, and loaded Cellini with flattery and offers of
friendship.
When all were gone, and Benvenuto was left alone in the courtyard with
his pupils, they thanked him, Ascanio effusively, Pagolo with something
very like constraint.
"Nay, do not thank me, my children, it's not worth while. But look you,
if you do in truth consider yourselves under any obligation to me, I
wish, since this subject of conversation was introduced to-day, to ask a
service at your hands; it relates to something which I have very much at
heart. You heard what I said to the king apropos of Catherine, and what
I said to him truly expressed the deepest feeling of my heart. The child
is necessary to my life, my friends; to my life as an artist, because,
as you know, her services as a model are offered so freely and joyously;
to my life as a man, because I think that she loves me. I pray you,
therefore, although she is beautiful, and although you are young, as she
also is, do not let your thoughts rest upon Catherine; there are enough
other lovely girls in the world. Do not tear my heart, do not insult my
affection by casting bold glances upon my Scozzone; nay, rather watch
over her in my absence, and advise her as if you were her brothers. I
conjure you, observe my wishes herein, for I know myself and my feeling
in this matter, and I swear before God, that if I should discover aught
amiss, I would kill her and her accomplice."
"Master," said Ascanio, "I respect you as my master, and I love you as
my father; have no fear."
"Blessed Jesus!" cried Pagolo, clasping his hands, "may God preserve me
from thinking of such an infamous action! Do I not know that I owe
everything to you, and would it not be a crime thus to abuse your sacred
confidence in me, and to repay your benefactions by such dastardly
treachery?"
"Thanks, my friends," said Benvenuto, pressing their hands. "I have
perfect faith in you, and I am content. Now, Pagolo, return to your
work, for I have promised the seal at which you are working to M. de
Villeroi for to-morrow; while Ascanio and myself pay a visit to the
estate which our gracious king has bestowed upon us, and of which we
will take possession on Sunday next, peaceably or by force."
Then he turned to Ascanio.
"Come, Ascanio," said he, "let us go and see if this Nesle habitation,
which seemed to you so eligible in its external aspect, has internal
appointments corresponding to its reputation."
Before Ascanio had time to offer any observation, Benvenuto, with a
parting glance over the studio to see if every workman was in his place,
and a light tap upon Scozzone's plump, rosy cheek, passed his arm
through his pupil's, drew him toward the door, and went out with him.
VI
TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT
They had taken hardly ten steps in the street, when they met a man of
some fifty years, rather short of stature, but with a handsome, mobile
countenance.
"I was about to call upon you, Benvenuto," said the new arrival, whom
Ascanio saluted with respect, mingled with veneration, and whose hand
Benvenuto cordially grasped.
"Is your business of importance, my dear Francesco?" said the goldsmith.
"In that case, I will return with you; or was it for no other purpose
than a friendly call? In that case, come with us."
"It was to proffer you some friendly advice, Benvenuto."
"I will gladly listen. Advice is always a good thing to receive when it
is proffered by a friend."
"But that which I have to give you is for no other ear than yours."
"This youth is another myself, Francesco; say on."
"I would already have done so, had I thought that I ought to do it,"
replied Benvenuto's friend.
"Pardon, master," said Ascanio, discreetly moving apart.
"Very well; go alone whither I purposed going with you, dear boy," said
Benvenuto; "as you know, when you have seen a thing it is as if I had
myself seen it. Look most carefully into every detail: see if the studio
will have a good light, if the courtyard will be a convenient place for
a furnace, and if it will be possible to separate our workshop from that
of the other apprentices. Do not forget the tennis-court."
With that Benvenuto passed his arm through the stranger's, waved his
hand to Ascanio, and returned to the studio, leaving the young man
standing in the middle of Rue Saint-Martin.
In very truth there was in the commission intrusted to him by his master
more than enough to embarrass Ascanio. His embarrassment was by no means
slight, even when Benvenuto proposed that they should make the visit of
inspection in company. Judge, then, what it became when he found himself
confronted with the prospect of making it all alone. He had watched
Colombe two Sundays without daring to follow her, had followed her on
the third without daring to accost her, and now he was to present
himself at her home; and for what purpose? To examine the Hôtel de
Nesle, which Benvenuto proposed, by way of pastime, to take from
Colombe's father on the following Sunday, willy-nilly.
It was a false position for anybody; it was terrible for a lover.
Fortunately it was a long distance from Rue Saint-Martin to the Hôtel
de Nesle. Had it been only a step or two, Ascanio would not have taken
them; but it was a half-league, so he started.
Nothing so familiarizes one with danger as to be separated from it by
a considerable time or distance. To all strong minds and happy
dispositions, reflection is a powerful auxiliary. Ascanio belonged to
the latter class. In those days it was not fashionable to be disgusted
with life before one had fairly entered upon it. All the impulses were
ingenuous and ingenuously expressed,--joy by laughter, sorrow by tears.
Affectation was a thing almost unknown, in life as in art, and a comely
youth of twenty was in no wise ashamed in those days to confess that he
was happy.
But in all Ascanio's embarrassment there was a certain amount of joy. He
had not expected to see Colombe again until the following Sunday, and he
was to see her that very day. Thus he had gained six days, and six days
of waiting are, as everybody knows, six centuries according to a lover's
reckoning.
And so, as he approached his destination, the affair became more simple
in his eyes. He it was, to be sure, who had advised Benvenuto to ask the
king for the Hôtel de Nesle for his studio, but could Colombe take it
ill of him that he had desired to be near her? This installation of the
Florentine goldsmith in the old palace of Amaury could not, it was true,
be carried out without interference with Colombe's father, who looked
upon it as his own; but would any real injury be inflicted upon Messire
Robert d'Estourville when he did not occupy it? Moreover, there were a
thousand ways in which Benvenuto could pay for his occupancy;--a chased
cup for the provost, a necklace for his daughter (and Ascanio would
undertake to make the necklace), might, and undoubtedly would, in that
artistic age, make the rough places smooth. Ascanio had seen grand
dukes, kings, and popes ready to give their coronets, sceptres, or
tiaras as the price of one of the marvellous examples of his master's
art. After all, then, supposing that matters should take that course,
Messire Robert would eventually be in Master Benvenuto's debt; for
Master Benvenuto was so generous that, if Messire Robert showed a
disposition to be courteous and compliant, Ascanio was certain that he,
Master Benvenuto, would deal right royally with him.
By the time he reached the end of Rue Saint-Martin, Ascanio looked upon
himself as a messenger of peace, chosen by the Lord to maintain
harmonious relations between two powers.
And yet, notwithstanding that conviction, Ascanio was not sorry--surely
lovers are strange creatures--to lengthen his journey by ten minutes,
and instead of crossing the Seine by boat, he walked the whole length of
the quays, and crossed by the Pont aux Moulins. It may be that he chose
that road because it was the same he had taken the evening before when
following Colombe.
Whatever his motive for making the detour, he finally found himself in
front of the Hôtel de Nesle in about twenty minutes.
But when he saw the little ogive door that he must pass through, when he
saw the turrets of the lovely little Gothic palace boldly raising their
heads above the wall, when he thought that behind those jalousies, half
closed because of the heat, was his beautiful Colombe, the whole
card-house of happy dreams which he had built on the road vanished like
the structures one sees in the clouds, and which the wind overturns with
one blow of its wing; he found himself face to face with reality, and
reality did not seem to him the most reassuring thing in the world.
However, after a few moments of hesitation--hesitation which is the
harder to understand, in that he was absolutely alone upon the quay in
the intense heat--he realized that he must make up his mind to do
something. As there was nothing for him to do but find his way into the
hotel, he walked to the door and raised the knocker. But God only knows
when he would have let it fall, had not the door chanced to open at that
moment, bringing him face to face with a sort of Master Jacques, a man
about thirty years of age, half servant, half peasant. It was Messire
Robert d'Estourville's gardener.
Ascanio and the gardener mutually recoiled a step.
"What do you want?" said the gardener; "whom do you seek?"
Ascanio, thus compelled to go forward with his mission, summoned all his
courage, and replied bravely:--
"I desire to inspect the hotel."
"To inspect the hotel!" cried the gardener in amazement; "in whose
name?"
"In the king's name!" Ascanio replied.
"In the king's name!" cried the gardener. "Jesus-Dieu! does the king
intend to take it from us?"
"Perhaps so!"
"But what does it mean?"
"Pray understand, my friend," said Ascanio, with a self-possession upon
which he mentally congratulated himself, "that I have no explanation to
give you."
"True. With whom do you desire to speak?"
"Is Monsieur le Prévôt within?" inquired Ascanio, knowing perfectly
well that he was not.
"No, Monsieur; he is at the Châtelet."
"Indeed! Who takes his place in his absence?"
"His daughter is here; Mademoiselle Colombe."
Ascanio felt that he was blushing to his ears.
"And there is Dame Perrine, too," the gardener continued. "Does Monsieur
desire to speak with Dame Perrine or with Mademoiselle Colombe?"
This was a very simple question, surely, and yet it caused a terrible
conflict in Ascanio's mind. He opened his mouth to say that he wished to
see Mademoiselle Colombe, and yet it was as if the audacious words
refused to pass his lips, and he asked for Dame Perrine. The gardener,
who had no suspicion that his question, which seemed so simple to him,
had caused such a disturbance, bowed in token of obedience, and went
across the courtyard toward the door of the Petit-Nesle. Ascanio
followed him.
He had to cross a second courtyard, pass through a second door, then
cross a small flower garden, ascend a flight of steps, and traverse a
long gallery. At the end of the gallery the gardener opened the door and
said:--
"Dame Perrine, here is a young gentleman, who asks to inspect the hotel,
in the king's name."
With that he stood aside and made room for Ascanio, who took his place
in the doorway.
As he glanced into the room, a cloud passed before his eyes, and he
leaned against the door frame for support. A very simple, and yet
entirely unforeseen thing had happened; Dame Perrine was with Colombe,
and he found himself in the presence of both.
Dame Perrine was sitting at the spinning-wheel, spinning. Colombe was at
work at her embroidery frame. They raised their heads at the same
instant and looked toward the door.
Colombe instantly recognized Ascanio. She expected him, although her
reason told her that he was not likely to come. As for him, when he saw
the maiden's eyes raised to his face, although their expression was
infinitely soft and sweet, it seemed to him that he was dying.
The fact is, that he had anticipated a thousand difficulties, had
dreamed of a thousand obstacles to be surmounted before he could win his
way to his beloved. Those obstacles would have aroused all his energy
and strengthened his resolution; and lo! everything came about as
naturally and simply as if God, touched by the purity of his passion,
had smiled upon it and blessed it from the first. He found himself in
her presence when he was least expecting it, and of all the beautiful
speech he had prepared, the fervent eloquence of which was to amaze and
move her, he could not recall a phrase, a word, a syllable.
Colombe, for her part, sat motionless and dumb. The two pure-souled
young creatures, who, as if they had been already joined in wedlock in
heaven, felt that they belonged to one another, and who, when once their
lives had brought them close together, would thenceforth form, like
Salmacis and Hermaphrodite, but one existence, were terrified at their
first meeting, trembled, hesitated, and stood face to face unable to
find words.
Dame Perrine, half rising from her chair, and preparing to put aside her
spinning, was the first to break the silence.
"What did that blockhead Raimbault say?" cried the worthy duenna. "Did
you hear, Colombe?" As Colombe did not reply, she continued, walking
toward Ascanio: "What is your pleasure here, my young master? Why, God
forgive me!" she suddenly exclaimed, as she recognized the visitor,
"it's the gallant youth who so politely handed me the holy water at the
church door these last three Sundays! What is your pleasure, my handsome
friend?"
"I would be glad to speak with you," faltered Ascanio.
"With me alone?" queried Dame Perrine coquettishly.
"With you--alone--"
As he made this reply Ascanio told himself that he was a consummate ass.
"Come this way, then, young man," said Dame Perrine, opening a door at
the side of the room, and signing to Ascanio to follow her.
Ascanio did as she bade him, but as he left the room he cast upon
Colombe one of those long, eloquent glances wherein lovers can say so
much, and which, however unintelligible they may be to indifferent
observers, are always understood at last by the person to whom they are
addressed. Colombe undoubtedly lost no portion of its meaning, for her
eyes, how she knew not, having met the youth's, she blushed
prodigiously, and when she felt that she was blushing, she cast her eyes
down upon her embroidery, and began to mangle a poor inoffensive flower.
Ascanio saw the blush, and, stopping abruptly, stepped toward Colombe;
but at that moment Dame Perrine turned and called him, and he was
compelled to follow her.
He had no sooner crossed the threshold of the door than Colombe dropped
her needle, let her arms fall beside her chair, threw back her head, and
breathed a long sigh, in which were mingled, by one of those
inexplicable miracles which the heart alone can perform, regret at
Ascanio's departure, and a sort of relief to feel that he was no longer
there.
The young man was very perceptibly in a bad humor; with Benvenuto, who
had given him such a strange commission to fulfil; with himself, for his
inability to take advantage of his opportunity; but most of all with
Dame Perrine, who was cruel enough to make him leave the room just when
Colombe's eyes seemed to bid him remain.
So it was that, when the duenna inquired as to the purpose of his visit,
Ascanio replied in a most deliberate manner, determined to be revenged
upon her for his own bungling:--
"The purpose of my visit, my dear Madame, is to beg you to show me the
Hôtel de Nesle from one end to the other."
"Show you the Hôtel de Nesle!" cried Dame Perrine; "why, in Heaven's
name, do you desire to see it?"
"To see if it will be convenient for us, if we shall be comfortable
here, and if it is worth while for us to leave our present quarters to
come and live here."
"What! come and live here! Pray have you hired the hotel of Monsieur le
Prévôt?"
"No, but his Majesty gives it to us."
"His Majesty gives it to you!" exclaimed Dame Perrine, more and more
amazed.
"Absolutely," replied Ascanio.
"To you?"
"Not precisely, my good woman, but to my master."
"And who is your master, if I may ask, young man? Some great foreign
nobleman, no doubt?"
"Better than that, Dame Perrine,--a great artist, come hither from
Florence, expressly to serve his Most Christian Majesty."
"Aha!" said the good woman, who did not understand very well; "what does
your master make?"
"What does he make? Why, he makes everything: rings to put on maidens'
fingers; ewers to put upon kings' tables; statues to place in the
temples of the gods; and in his leisure moments he besieges or defends
cities, as his caprice leads him to cause an emperor to tremble, or to
reassure a pope."
"Jésus Dieu!" cried Dame Perrine: "what is your master's name?"
"His name is Benvenuto Cellini."
"It's strange that I don't know that name," muttered the duenna; "what
is his profession?"
"He is a goldsmith."
Dame Perrine gazed wonderingly at Ascanio.
"A goldsmith!" she muttered, "a goldsmith! And do you fancy that
Monsieur le Prévôt will give up his palace like this to a--goldsmith?"
"If he doesn't give it up, we will take it."
"By force?"
"Even so."
"But your master will hardly dare to contend against Monsieur le
Prévôt, I trust."
"He has contended against three dukes and two popes."
"Jésus Dieu! Two popes! He's not a heretic surely?"
"He is as good a Catholic as you and I, Dame Perrine: have no fear on
that score; Satan is in no wise our ally. But in default of the devil,
we have the king on our side."
"So! but Monsieur le Prévôt has a more powerful protector than the
king."
"Whom has he, pray?"
"Madame d'Etampes."
"Then we are on equal terms," said Ascanio.
"But suppose Messire d'Estourville refuses?"
"Master Benvenuto will take."
"And suppose Messire d'Estourville shuts himself up here as in a
citadel?"
"Master Cellini will lay siege to it."
"Consider that the provost has twenty-four sergeants-at-arms."
"Master Benvenuto Cellini has ten apprentices: still we are on equal
terms, you see, Dame Perrine."
"But Messire d'Estourville is personally a sturdy fighter. At the
tournament which took place at the time of the marriage of François I.,
he was one of the challengers, and all those who dared measure swords
with him were unhorsed."
"Ah well! Dame Perrine, then he is just the man for Benvenuto, who has
never met his match, and who, like Messire d'Estourville, always
unhorses his adversaries. But there is this difference between them: a
fortnight afterward, they who have encountered your provost are on their
legs again in good health and spirits, while they who have my master to
deal with never raise their heads again, and three days after are dead
and buried."
"Evil will come of this! evil will come of this!" muttered Dame Perrine.
"Young man, they say that fearful things are done in cities taken by
assault."
"Have no fear on that head, Dame Perrine," rejoined Ascanio with a
smile. "You will have to do with generous conquerors."
"What I mean, my dear child," said Dame Perrine, who was not sorry
perhaps, to secure a friend among the besiegers, "is that I fear there
may be bloodshed; for, so far as your proximity to us is concerned, you
will understand that it cannot fail to be very agreeable to us, since
society is somewhat scanty in this accursed desert to which Messire
d'Estourville has consigned his daughter and myself, like two wretched
nuns, although neither she nor I have taken the vows, thank God! It isn't
good for man to be alone, so saith Holy Writ, and when Holy Writ
mentions man, woman is included. Is not that your opinion, young man?"
"That goes without saying."
"And we are entirely alone, and therefore very doleful in this vast
habitation."
"Why, do you receive no visitors here?" Ascanio asked.
"Jésus Dieu! it's worse than if we were nuns, as I told you. Nuns have
parents at least, and friends who come and talk to them through the
grating. They have the refectory where they can assemble and talk
together. It's not very diverting, I know, but it's something
nevertheless. But we have only Messire le Prévôt, who comes from time
to time to lecture his daughter for growing too lovely, I think,--it's
her only crime, poor child,--and to scold me because I don't watch her
closely enough,--God save the mark! when she doesn't see a living soul
in the world except myself, and, aside from what she says to me, doesn't
open her mouth except to pray. I beg you, therefore, young man, not
to say to any one that you have been admitted here, that you have
inspected the Grand-Nesle under my guidance, or that you talked with us
for an instant at the Petit-Nesle."
"What!" cried Ascanio, "after our visit to the Grand-Nesle, I am to
return with you to the Petit? In that case I shall--" He checked
himself, realizing that his joy was carrying him too far.
"I think it would not be courteous, young man, after presenting
yourself, as you did, to Mademoiselle Colombe, who is the mistress of
the house in her father's absence, and after asking to speak with me
alone,--I do not think it would be courteous, I say, to leave the Hôtel
de Nesle without taking leave of her. But if you prefer not to do so,
you are quite at liberty, as you know, to go into the street directly
from the Grand-Nesle, which has its own exit."
"No, no, no indeed!" cried Ascanio, eagerly. "Peste! I flatter myself,
Dame Perrine, that I have been as well brought up as anybody on earth,
and that I know what good breeding requires in one's treatment of
ladies. But, let us do what we have to do, Dame Perrine, without a
moment's delay, for I am in very great haste."
Indeed, now that Ascanio knew that he was to return by way of the
Petit-Nesle he was in a great hurry to be done with the Grand. And as
Dame Perrine was terribly afraid of being surprised by the provost when
she least expected it, she had no inclination to delay Ascanio! so she
took down a bunch of keys from behind a door, and walked on before him.
Let us, in company with Ascanio, east a hasty glance at this Hôtel de
Nesle, where the principal scenes of our narrative will be laid.
The Hôtel, or rather the Séjour de Nesle, as it was more commonly
called at that time, occupied, as our readers already know, the site on
the left bank of the Seine, on which the Hôtel de Nevers was
subsequently built, to be in its turn succeeded by the Mint and the
Institute. It was the last building in Paris toward the southwest, and
beyond its walls nothing could be seen save the city moat, and the
verdant lawns of the Pré-aux-Clercs. It was built by Amaury, Lord of
Nesle in Picardie, toward the close of the eighth century. Philippe le
Bel bought it in 1308 and made it his royal residence. In 1520 the Tour
de Nesle, of bloody and licentious memory, was separated from it, when
the quay, the bridge over the moat, and the Porte de Nesle were
constructed, and thenceforth the grim tower stood alone upon the river
bank, like a sinner doing penance.