Nesle, the undertaking would not be accomplished without some
difficulty, thanks to the guard which was constantly maintained upon the
walls; and Ascanio had observed about the hotel all the indications of a
fortified post. If there should be an attack, there would be a defence;
and as the fortress seemed little disposed to capitulate, it was clear
that it must be taken by assault. It was at that decisive moment that
Ascanio's chivalrous nature might expect to find an opportunity to
display itself. There would be a battle, there would be a breach in the
walls to carry, and perhaps there would be a conflagration. Ah!
something of that sort was what he longed for! a conflagration most of
all,--a conflagration whereby Colombe's life would be endangered! Then
he would dart up the tottering staircases, among the burning rafters,
and over the crumbling walls. He would hear her voice calling for help;
he would seek her out, take her in his arms, dying and almost
unconscious, and bear her away to safety through the roaring sea of
flame, her heart against his, and inhaling her breath. Then, having
brought her safely through a thousand dangers, he would lay her at the
feet of her despairing father, who would reward his gallant conduct by
giving her to the man who had saved her life. Or else, as he bore her in
his arms over a frail plank thrown across the flaming chasm, his foot
would slip, and they would fall together and die in each other's arms,
their hearts blending in one last sigh, in a first and last kiss. This
latter alternative was not to be despised by one who had so little hope
in his heart as Ascanio; for next to the felicity of living for each
other, the greatest happiness is to die together.
Thus it will be seen that all our friends were passing through some very
agitated days and nights, with the exception of Benvenuto Cellini, who
seemed entirely to have forgotten his hostile designs upon the Hôtel de
Nesle, and of Scozzone, who knew nothing of them.
The whole week passed away thus, and Benvenuto Cellini, having worked
conscientiously throughout the six days that composed it, and having
almost completed the clay model of his Jupiter, donned his coat of mail
on the Saturday about five o'clock, buttoned his doublet over it, and,
bidding Ascanio accompany him, bent his steps toward the Hôtel de
Nesle. When they reached the spot, Cellini made the circuit of the
walls, spying out the weak spots, and meditating his plan of siege.
The attack offered more than one difficulty, as the provost had said to
his friend Marmagne, as Ascanio had informed his master, and as
Benvenuto was now able to see for himself. The Château de Nesle was
crenellated and machicolated, was defended by a double wall on the river
side, and furthermore by the city moats and ramparts on the side of the
Pré-aux-Clercs. It was one of those massive and imposing feudal
structures, which were equal to the task of defending themselves by
their mass alone, provided that the doors were securely fastened, and of
repelling without outside assistance the assaults of _tirelaines_ and
_larroneurs_, as they were called in those days, or of the king's men,
if need were. This was often the case at that interesting epoch, when
one was generally compelled to do police duty for himself.
Having made his reconnaissance according to all the ancient and modern
rules of strategy, and deeming it to be his duty to summon the place to
surrender before laying siege to it, he knocked at the little door by
which Ascanio had once entered. For him as for Ascanio the small window
opened; but it was the martial countenance of an archer, instead of that
of the pacific gardener, which appeared in the opening.
"What do you want?" the archer demanded of the stranger who dared to
knock at the door of the Hôtel de Nesle.
"To take possession of the hotel, which has been given to me, Benvenuto
Cellini," replied the goldsmith.
"Very good,--wait," rejoined the fellow, and he went at once to notify
Messire d'Estourville, as he had been ordered to do.
A moment later he returned, accompanied by the provost, who did not show
himself, but stood listening, with bated breath, in a corner, surrounded
by part of his garrison, in order to judge the better of the gravity of
the affair.
"We do not know what you mean," said the archer.
"If that be so," said Cellini, "hand this document to Messire le
Prévôt; it is a certified copy of the deed of gift." And he passed the
parchment through the window.
The sergeant disappeared a second time; but as he had simply to put out
his hand to hand the copy to the provost, the window opened again almost
immediately.
"Here is his answer," said the sergeant, passing through the bars the
parchment torn in pieces.
"Very good," rejoined Cellini with perfect tranquillity. "_Au revoir_."
He returned to his studio, highly gratified by the attention with which
Ascanio had followed his scrutiny of the place, and the young man's
judicious suggestions as to the _coup de main_ they were to attempt at
some time; and he assured his pupil that he would have made a
distinguished general, were it not that he was destined to become a
still more distinguished artist, which, in Cellini's view, was
infinitely preferable.
The next morning the sun rose in all his glory; Benvenuto had requested
his workmen to come to the studio, although it was Sunday, and not one
of them failed to appear.
"My children," said the master, "it is undoubtedly true that I engaged
you to work at the goldsmith's trade, and not to fight. But during the
two months that we have been together we have learned to know one
another so well that, in a serious emergency, I feel that I can count
upon you, as you all and always can count upon me. You know what I have
in contemplation: we are but poorly accommodated here, with but little
air and little space, and our elbows are too cramped to allow us to
undertake great works, or even to use the forge with any degree of
vigor. The king, in the presence of you all, deigned to bestow upon me a
larger and more commodious abode; but, as he has no leisure to bestow
upon trifling details, he left it to me to install myself therein. Now,
the present possessor does not choose to give over to me this property
which his Majesty has so generously presented to me; therefore we must
take it. The Provost of Paris, who retains possession in the face of his
Majesty's order, (it would seem that such things are of common
occurrence in this land,) does not know the man with whom he has to do;
as soon as I am refused, I demand; as soon as I am resisted, I take by
force. Are you disposed to assist me? I do not conceal from you that
there will be danger in so doing: there is a battle to be fought, there
are walls to be scaled, and other harmless amusements to be indulged in.
There is nothing to fear from the police or the patrol, because we act
by his Majesty's authority; but it may mean death, my children.
Therefore, let those who wish to go elsewhere do so without hesitation,
let those who wish to remain here not be ashamed to say as much; I ask
for none but bold and resolute hearts. If you leave me to go alone with
Pagolo and Ascanio, have no fear on our behalf. I know not how I shall
go to work; but I do know this, that I will not be disappointed for
that. But, by the blood of Christ! if you lend me your hearts and your
arms, as I hope you will, woe to the provost and the provostry. Now that
you are fully instructed in the matter, speak: will you follow me?"
They all shouted with one voice:--
"Anywhere, master; wherever you choose to lead us!"
"Bravo, my children! Then you are all in for the sport?"
"All!"
"Then let the tempest howl!" cried Benvenuto; "at last we are to have a
little diversion. I have been rusty long enough. Up, up, brave hearts
and swords! Ah! thank God! we are soon to give and receive a few lusty
blows! Look you, my dear boys, look you, my gallant friends, we must arm
ourselves, we must agree upon a plan; let them be ready to look to
themselves, and _vive la joie_! I will give you all that I possess in
the way of weapons, offensive and defensive, in addition to those that
are hanging on the wall, where every one can choose at will. Ah! what we
really need is a good culverin: but there's its value in arquebuses,
hackbuts, pikes, swords, and daggers; and there are coats of mail
galore, and cuirasses and helmets. Come, haste, haste, and let us dress
for the ball! the provost shall pay for the music!"
"Hurrah!" cried all his companions.
Thereupon the studio was the scene of a commotion, a tumult, wonderful
to look upon; the verve and enthusiasm of the master infected every
heart and every face. They tried on cuirasses, brandished swords, tested
the point of daggers, laughed and sang, as if a masquerade or festival
of some sort were in progress. Benvenuto ran hither and thither, handing
a boot to this one, buckling the belt of another, and feeling the blood
course hotly and freely through his veins, as if this were the life he
truly loved.
The workmen meanwhile indulged in jokes at one another's expense,
commenting freely upon the bellicose demeanor and awkward attitudes of
their fellows.
"Look, master!" cried one of them; "look at Simon-le-Gaucher,[4] putting
his sword on the same side as we! On the right, man! on the right!"
"See Jehan," retorted Simon, "holding his halberd as he'll hold his
cross when he's a bishop!"
"There's Pagolo putting on a double coat of mail!" said Jehan.
"Why not?" replied Pagolo. "Hermann the German is arraying himself like
a knight in the days of the Emperor Barbarossa!"
In fact, the youth referred to by the appellation of Hermann the German
(a somewhat pleonastic title, as his name alone was so distinctively
Germanic in sound as to indicate that its owner belonged to some one of
the circles of the Holy Empire),--Hermann, we say, had covered himself
from head to foot with iron, and resembled one of the gigantic statues
which the sculptors of that artistic age were accustomed to carve upon
tombs.
Benvenuto, although the physical strength of this redoubtable comrade
from beyond the Rhine had become proverbial in the studio, remarked that
he would be likely to experience some difficulty in moving, being so
completely encased, and that his usefulness would certainly be lessened
rather than increased. Hermann's only reply was to leap upon a table as
lightly as if he were clad in velvet, take down an enormous hammer, wave
it around his head, and strike the anvil three such terrific blows that
each of them drove it an inch into the ground. There was nothing to say
to such a reply; so Benvenuto waved his hand and nodded his head
respectfully in token of satisfaction.
Ascanio alone made his toilet apart from the others. He could not avoid
a feeling of uneasiness as to the results of the enterprise upon which
they were about to embark; for it might well be that Colombe would not
forgive him for attacking her father, especially if the struggle should
lead to some grave catastrophe, and he would find himself farther
removed from her heart, although nearer to her eyes.
Scozzone, half joyous, half anxious, wept one moment and laughed the
next. The change of location and the prospect of a battle were by no
means unpleasing to her, but as for blows and wounds, that was another
matter; the preparations for the combat made the frolicsome creature
dance for joy, but its possible results made the woman that was in her
tremble.
Benvenuto at last noticed her, smiling and weeping at the same time, and
he went to her side.
"Thou wilt remain here, Scozzone, with Ruperta," he said, "and prepare
lint for the wounded, and a good dinner for those who come safely
through it."
"Oh no, no!" cried Scozzone; "oh pray let me go with you! With you I
have courage enough to defy the provost and all his myrmidons, but alone
here with Ruperta I should die of anxiety and fear."
"Oh, I could never consent to that," replied Benvenuto; "it would
trouble me too much to think that some mishap might befall thee. Thou
wilt pray for us, dear child, while awaiting our return."
"Listen, Benvenuto," rejoined the maiden, as if struck by a sudden
thought, "you understand, of course, that I cannot endure the thought of
remaining quiet here while you are fighting yonder, wounded, perhaps
dying. But there is a way of satisfying both of us; instead of praying
for your safety here in the studio, I will go and pray in the church
nearest to the spot. In that way I shall be out of danger, and shall
know the result immediately, whether it be a victory or a defeat."
"Very well, so be it," replied Benvenuto; "it is understood, of course,
that we shall not go forth to kill others, or to be killed ourselves,
without first fulfilling the pious duty of listening to mass. We will go
together to the church of the Grands Augustins, which is nearer than any
other to the Hôtel de Nesle, and will leave thee there, little one."
These arrangements determined upon, and the preparations for the affray
at an end, they drank a glass of Burgundy to the success of their
enterprise. To their weapons, offensive and defensive, they added
hammers, tongs, ladders, and ropes, and left the studio, not after the
manner of an army corps, but two by two, at sufficiently long intervals
not to attract attention. It was not that a _coup de main_ was a more
unfrequent occurrence in those days than an _émeute_ or a change of
ministry in these days of ours; but, truth to say, it was not customary
to select the Sabbath day, or the hour of noon, for this sort of
diversion, and it required all Benvenuto's audacity, reinforced by his
consciousness that right was on his side, to venture upon such an
undertaking.
One after another our heroes arrived at the Grands Augustins, and,
having given their weapons and tools into the charge of the sacristan,
who was a friend of Simon-le-Gaucher, they entered the church to listen
devoutly to the blessed sacrifice of the mass, and to implore God's help
in exterminating as many archers as possible.
Truth compels us to state, however, that despite the gravity of the
impending crisis, despite his exemplary piety, and despite the
importance of the matters to which his prayers had reference, Benvenuto
had no sooner entered the church than his actions indicated that his
mind was upon something very different. His distraction was due to the
fact that just behind him, but on the other side of the nave, sat a
young girl reading from an illuminated missal,--a young girl so adorably
lovely that she might well have confused the thoughts of a saint, much
more of a sculptor. Under such circumstances the artist sadly interfered
with the devotions of the Christian. The gallant Cellini could not
resist the desire to have some one to join him in his admiration, and as
Catherine, who was at his left, would certainly have frowned upon his
inattention, he turned to Ascanio, who was at his right, with the
purpose of bidding him turn his eyes toward the lovely picture.
But Ascanio's eyes needed no bidding in that direction; from the moment
that he entered the church his gaze was riveted upon the maiden, and his
eyes never left her face.
Benvenuto, seeing that he was absorbed in contemplation of the same
object, simply nudged him with his elbow.
"Yes," said Ascanio; "yes, it is Colombe. O master, is she not
beautiful?"
It was indeed Colombe; her father, not anticipating an attack at high
noon, had given her permission, not without some reluctance, to go to
the Augustins to pray. Colombe, it is true, was very earnest in her
request, for it was the only consolation that remained to her. Dame
Perrine was by her side.
"Ah çà! who is Colombe?" was Benvenuto's very natural query.
"Ah! yes, you do not know her. Colombe is the daughter of the provost,
Messire d'Estourville himself. Is she not beautiful?" he said again.
"No," rejoined Benvenuto, "no, it's not Colombe. 'T is Hebe, Ascanio,
the goddess of youth; the Hebe whom my great King François has ordered
at my hands; the Hebe of whom I have dreamed, for whom I have prayed to
God, and who has come down from above in response to my prayer."
Regardless of the incongruity of the idea of Hebe reading her missal,
and pouring out her heart in prayer, Benvenuto continued his hymn to
beauty simultaneously with his devotion and his military plans: the
goldsmith, the Catholic, and the strategist predominated in his mind by
turns.
"Our Father who art in heaven--Look, Ascanio, what clean-cut, expressive
features!--Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in
heaven--How fascinatingly graceful the undulating outline of her
figure!--Give us this day our daily bread--And thou sayest that such a
lovely child is the daughter of that rascally provost whom I propose to
exterminate with my own hand?--And forgive us our trespasses, as we
forgive those who trespass against us--Even though I have to burn down
the Hôtel to do it--Amen!"
And Benvenuto crossed himself, having no doubt that he had just
concluded a most expressive rendering of the Lord's prayer.
The mass came to an end while he was still absorbed in these
heterogeneous ideas, which might seem somewhat profane in the case of a
man of different temperament at a different epoch, but which were
altogether natural in so reckless a nature as Cellini's, at a time when
Clement Marot was putting the seven penitential psalms into gallant
verse.
As soon as the _Ite, missa est_, was pronounced, Benvenuto and Catherine
exchanged a warm grasp of the hand. Then, while the girl, wiping away a
tear, remained on the spot where she was to await the result of the
combat, Cellini and Ascanio, their eyes still fixed upon Colombe, who
had not once looked up from her book, went with their companions to take
a drop of holy water; after which they separated, to meet in a deserted
_cul-de-sac_ about half-way from the church to the Hôtel de Nesle.
Catherine, in accordance with the prearranged plan, remained to the
celebration of high mass, as did Colombe and Dame Perrine, who had
simply arrived a little early, and had listened to the first service
only as a preparation for the more solemn ceremony to follow; nor had
they any reason to suspect that Benvenuto and his apprentices were upon
the point of cutting all the lines of communication with the house they
had so imprudently quitted.
IX
THRUST AND PARRY
The decisive moment had arrived. Benvenuto divided his men into two
detachments: one was to attempt, by every possible means, to force the
door of the Hôtel; the other was to cover the operations of the first,
and to keep from the walls, with arquebus shots or with their swords,
any of the besieged who might appear upon the battlements, or who might
attempt a sortie. Benvenuto took command of this last detachment in
person, and selected our friend Ascanio for his lieutenant. At the head
of the other he placed Hermann, the good-humored, gallant German, who
could flatten an iron bar with a hammer, and a man with his fist. He
chose for his second in command little Jehan, a rascal of fifteen years,
as active as a squirrel, mischievous as a monkey, and impudent as a
page, for whom the Goliath had conceived a very deep affection, for the
reason, doubtless, that the playful youngster was forever tormenting
him. Little Jehan proudly took his place beside his captain, to the
great chagrin of Pagolo, who in his double cuirass was not unlike the
statue of the Commandeur in the rigidity of his movements.
Having thus made his dispositions, and reviewed his men and inspected
their weapons for the last time, Benvenuto addressed a few words to the
brave fellows who were about to face danger, perhaps death, in his
cause, with such good will. Then he grasped each man's hand, crossed
himself devoutly, and cried, "Forward!"
The two parties at once took up their line of march, and, skirting the
Quai des Augustins, which was deserted at that hour in that spot, they
very soon arrived at the Hôtel de Nesle.
Thereupon Benvenuto, unwilling to attack his enemy without first going
through all the formalities prescribed by custom in such cases, went
forward alone, waving a white handkerchief at the end of his sword, to
the same small door as before, and knocked. As before, he was questioned
through the barred opening as to the object of his visit. Benvenuto
repeated the same formula, saying that he had come to take possession of
the château given him by the king. But he was less fortunate than on
the former occasion, in that he was not honored with any reply at all.
Thereupon, facing the door, he exclaimed, in loud, distinct tones:--
"To thee, Robert d'Estourville, Provost of Paris, do I, Benvenuto
Cellini, goldsmith, sculptor, painter, and engineer, make known that his
Majesty François I. has in his good pleasure, as it was his right to
do, given to me absolutely the Grand-Nesle. As thou dost insolently
maintain thy hold upon it, and, in contravention of the royal will, dost
refuse to deliver it to me, I hereby declare to thee, Robert
d'Estourville, Seigneur de Villebon, Provost of Paris, that I have come
to take possession of the Grand-Nesle by force. Defend thyself
therefore, and, if evil comes of thy refusal, know that thou wilt be
held answerable therefor on earth and in heaven, before man and before
God."
With that Benvenuto paused, and waited; but not a sound came from behind
the walls. He thereupon loaded his arquebus, and ordered his men to make
ready their weapons; then, assembling the leaders Hermann, Ascanio, and
Jehan in council, he said to them:--
"You see, my children, that it is not possible to avoid the conflict.
Now it is for us to decide in what way we shall begin the attack."
"I will break in the door," said Hermann, "and do you follow me in;
that's all."
"With what will you do it, my Samson?" queried Cellini.
Hermann looked about and saw on the quay a piece of timber which four
ordinary men would have found it difficult to lift.
"With that beam," he said.
He walked to where it lay, coolly picked it up, placed it under his arm,
and fixed it there like a rain in its socket, then returned to his
general.
Meanwhile a crowd was beginning to collect, and Benvenuto, excited
thereby, was on the point of giving orders for the attack to begin, when
the captain of the king's archers, notified doubtless by some
conservative citizen, appeared at the corner of the street, accompanied
by five or six mounted men. This captain was a friend of the provost,
and although he knew perfectly well what was toward, he rode up to
Benvenuto, hoping to intimidate him doubtless, and while his people
checked Hermann's advance, he said:--
"What is your desire, and why do you thus disturb the peace of the
city?"
"The man who really disturbs the peace," replied Cellini, "is he who
refuses to obey the king's orders, not he who executes them."
"What do you mean?" inquired the captain.
"I mean that I hold a deed in due form, delivered to me by Messire de
Neufville, secretary of the royal treasury, wherein his Majesty grants
to me the Hôtel du Grand-Nesle. But the people who are in possession
refuse to recognize this deed, and thereby keep me from my own. Now in
one way or another, I have got it into my head that, since Scripture
says that we must render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's,
Benvenuto Cellini is entitled to take what belongs to Benvenuto
Cellini."
"Yes! and instead of preventing us from taking possession of our
property, you ought to lend us a hand," cried Pagolo.
"Be silent, rascal," said Benvenuto, stamping angrily; "I have no need
of anybody's assistance. Dost thou understand?"
"You are right in theory, but wrong in practice," rejoined the captain.
"How may that be?" demanded Benvenuto, who felt that the blood was
beginning to rise in his cheeks.
"You are right to wish to enter into possession of your property, but
you are wrong to undertake to do it in this way; for you will not gain
much, I promise you, fighting walls with your swords. If I were to give
you a little friendly advice, it would be to apply to the officers of
justice, and carry your grievance to the Provost of Paris, for example.
With that, adieu, and good luck to you!"
And the captain of the king's archers rode away with a sneering laugh,
whereupon the crowd laughed too.
"He laughs best who laughs last," said Benvenuto Cellini. "Forward,
Hermann, forward!"
Hermann took up his joist once more, and while Cellini, Ascanio, and two
or three of the most skilful marksmen of the party, arquebus in hand,
stood in readiness to fire upon the wall, he rushed forward like a
living catapult against the small door, which they deemed to be easier
to burst in than the large one.
But when he approached the wall a shower of stones began to rain down
upon him, although no defenders could be seen; for the provost had
ordered stones to be piled on top of the wall, and it was necessary only
to push lightly against the piles to send them down upon the heads of
the besiegers.