The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini, transl. John Addington Symonds,
Bantam, New York, 1956

This worn paperback is signed "Michael McKenny June 10, 1978 Pembroke,
Ontario." In the thirty years he has owned it, he several times
attempted to read it. He has always had difficulty as the arrogant
braggart personality of the authorial protagonist is so alien to him.
Now, seeking to examine Renaissance sources of Western excesses, a more
determined effort has been made. What follows is a summary of the text.

Anyone who has done anything ought to write his autobiography. I am
Benvenuto Cellini of Florence. My ancestors were talented and
accomplished. As a young child I held a scorpion and saw a salamander
in the fire. My father made musical instruments for Florence's rulers.
When I declined music, he placed me with a goldsmith. When sixteen, I
was exiled for brawling and then sent to Bologna.

I studied under a goldsmith in Bologna and also studied music and art
there. My father wanted me to become a great musician and my younger
brother a famous lawyer, but I went to goldsmithing, he to arms. I
studied in Pisa. One who saw my work invited to go with him to work for
England's king, but when he told how once he had broken Michelangelo's
nose, I refused. I went with Tasso to Rome. I stayed there two years,
then returned to Florence.

In trouble with the law for my brawling, I escaped to Rome. There I did
exquisite and well paid work. I sent some money to my father; he wrote
urging me to continue with music. I did in my spare time. I performed
so well in a band before the Pope that he hired me full time, letting
me do my goldsmithing as I liked, so long as I performed musically for
him. He saw some of my other work and praised it highly.

Many cardinals commissioned works from me and paid me well. A client
suggested I open my own shop. I did. On St. John's Day, a lout insulted
us Florentines celebrating at my place. I struck him; we drew swords. I
came as challenged the next day, Italy's finest veteran swordsman as my
second. The lout became agreeable and no duel was fought.

I became accomplished in making cardinal's seals, medals, exquisite
enamelling. God gave me talent to succeed at whatever I tried. While
plague struck Rome, I avoided people and hunted pigeons in ruins,
shooting accurately with a gun I made myself, using powder of my own
secret design, superior to all others. There I encountered some hunting
valuables and I made money trading in gems and jewels found in ruins. I
fell ill, recovered, went to stay in the country for a month, until the
plague died down, then, avoiding Moorish raiders, returned to Rome.

Michelangelo founded a club of the best artistic people in Rome. I
joined. We met twice weekly. He hosted a memorable supper party to
which I brought a lad disguised as a beautiful girl. I acquired lovely
Turkish daggers, decided to learn to make such and produced better
ones. A young Florentine I helped out became very friendly with an
ex-girlfriend of mine. I went after them, caused a ruckus and earned
the fighting respect of soldiers in their company.

When the Pope dismissed soldiers, imperial troops raced to Rome. I was
asked to gather fifty men and guard a palace. I went to the city wall,
saw the foe and shot their commander dead. I was asked to join the
Pope's defenders. From his castle I fired cannons slaying many enemy
soldiers. I kept them from entering the castle. My cannons protected
the Pope for weeks. He himself pardoned me for all the men I killed. I
helped the Pope prepare his valuables for departure, melting much gold
for him. 

A peace was signed. I went to Florence. At my father's urging, I
continued on to Mantua. Its duke praised my work highly. I worked four
months for him. When I arrived in Florence, I learned my father had
died of plague. I met my brother and sister, did work that earned the
praise of Michelangelo, then, Florence and Rome at war, I reported to
the Pope in Rome. He assigned me tasks, including making dies for the
realm's coinage, and praised the very high quality of my work.

My brother was shot and died in a fracas. I avenged him. I opened my
own shop. One night while I slept with my mistress, a thief broke in.
My five journeymen ignored the watchdog. The thief missed the Pope's
jewels. Later the dog recognized that thief. He confessed and returned
what he had taken. I was not paid to my satisfaction by the Pope and
delayed doing my commission. I fell in love; her parents sent her to
Sicily. I joined necromancers; I asked summoned demons for her.

An angry man accosted me, angered me and I hit him with a stone. Told
I'd killed someone else, the Pope ordered me hung on the spot. I fled
to Naples, met and enjoyed my love. I met the viceroy of Naples who
admired my work. Learning the error, the Pope invited me back. Passing
highwaymen, I went. I showed him some medals. He promised to pay what I
was worth.

The Pope died. I slew my enemy Pompeo. The new Pope, Paul III, favoured
me. He said, "Know then that men like Benvenuto, unique in their
profession, stand above the law." (p. 105) My enemies plotted my death
and hired a Corsican soldier to kill me. I was alert and bold and he
refrained. I went to Florence, then to Venice. I found no work there. I
returned to Florence.

I made dies for Florence's coinage. Ottaviano de Medici, ignoring the
duke, had another man also make dies. I went to Rome and received a
papal pardon. While there I fell very ill. Benedetto Varchi, informed
of my death, wrote a sonnet on this (pp. 120-121). I recovered slowly,
returning to Florence in a litter.

The painter Vassari maligned me to the duke. I had myself carried to
the duke, confronted Vassari and cleared my name. On my way to Rome,
Duke Alessandro died; Cosimo succeeded. The Emperor came to Rome after
his victory at Tunis. I presented him a papal gift I'd made. He knew my
name and spoke with me for half an hour praising my work. I tinted one
of Targhetta's (Venice's best jeweller's) diamonds better than any
jeweller could and conversed with the Pope about this for an hour.

The envious maligned me to the Pope. With him cool, I left for France,
painting a portrait of Pietro Bembo at Padua on the way. I crossed tall
snowy mountains, a large lake, passed through Swiss towns and Lyons and
by French highwaymen and safely reached Paris. I soon returned to Rome.
There I opened a new shop and sued the man who owed both money and the
completion of outstanding commissions. He was imprisoned. I worked hard
for important clients.

King Francis invited me to return and work for him. One of my workmen
accused me of stealing papal jewels. I was arrested, inprisoned and
interrogated. I told them to check the registers and they'd find none
missing. This happened. King Francis asked the Pope for me; he refused.
I escaped with a broken leg. Cardinal Cornaro took me in. When the pope
insisted I move to his garden, I ate only what the Cardinal provided,
fearing poison from the Pope. I was imprisoned again, this time in a
foul dungeon. My nails grew. I lost many teeth. I prayed. I had awesome
visions.

I wrote a sonnet (p. 174) to the castellan. He sent it to the Pope. I
was transferred to a better cell on November 1, 1539. The castellan
passed away. A plot to poison me with pounded diamond failed, as Lione
substituted beryl. The Cardinal of Ferrara came to press Francis'
desire for me. The Pope granted the favour.

I wrote verses in prison (pp. 179-184). I took up my work. This was
much praised. I travelled with the Cardinal from Rome, then went my own
way, killed a brute of a post master, visited my sister in Florence and
rejoined the Cardinal at Ferrara. He went ahead to France while I
worked. I did the portrait of Ferrara's Duke.

The Cardinal bade me come. I went to France. I thanked the King for my
release from prison. He praised my work. I travelled with his numerous
company. When the Cardinal said I would have three hundred crowns per
annum for my living expenses, I said I was worth much more and left.
They caught up with me and informed me:

   "Our most Christian monarch has of his own accord assigned you the
   same appointments which his Majesty allowed the painter Leonardo da
   Vinci, that is, a salary of seven hundred crowns; in addition, he
   will pay you for all the works you do for him; also for your journey
   hither he gives you five hundred golden crowns." p. 198

I found suitable quarters in Paris. I began to work on his commission
of a dozen silver candelabra. The King visited my workshop, highly
pleased at the vigorous activity he saw. He invited me to dinner and
commissioned a salt cellar. I and my workmen were very busy on a number
of projects.

He provided me letters of naturalisation. He was enormously impressed
when I showed him my designs for Fountainbleu. His mistress, Madame
d'Etampes, was upset I hadn't shown her anything. She became an enemy.
She arranged the transfer of the Fountainbleu commission to Francesco
Primaticcio.

I supported at my castle my good friend Guido Guidi and a number of
other Italians. I caught my accountant and my mistress together and
kicked them out. She brought me to court. I won. King Francis wanted me
to make France's coinage. Francesco Primaticcio, reluctant at first,
finally admitted my commission for Fountainbleu. I made a fine bronze.

I brought the King the salt cellar. He was overwhelmed. He visited me
and was impressed by all the work proceeding well. His mistress, my
enemy, sought my loss; my gain increased. My Jupiter earned highest
praise.

The Emperor approached Paris with an invading army. Peace was made with
him. England continued hostile. I went with some prominent Italians to
Italy. Near Lyons we encountered a very fierce storm with large hail. I
proceeded to Florence, visited my sister and received an assignment
from Cosimo de Medici. He provided a house for a workshop.

Guido Guidi sent letters urging my return to France. My sister's
husband died, leaving her and her six children. An envious one deprived
me of workmen. I continued my impressive work and trained others. I
valued a diamond for which the duke had paid too high a price. I went
to Venice and met Titian and Jacopo del Sansovino. I returned and
successfully defended myself from accusations.

The duchess gave me assignments, but little pay. The duke showed me a
marvellous broken ancient statue. I explained to him the ancients'
skills. I restored it. A splinter flew into my eye; doctors applied
pigeon's blood and it came out two days later. I made a gift to St.
Lucia. I spoke of my high quality to the duke. I constructed a superior
furnace and used it uniquely, better than anyone.

I went to Rome. Michelangelo had written telling me how awesome a
sculptor I am. The duke wished Michelangelo to work for him. I could
not convince him to leave Rome. I'd been detracted to the duke. On my
return I cleared this. The duchess wanted a pearl necklace; she became
angry when I told the duke it's poor quality.

War broke out; I designed defences. I cleaned newly found statuettes. I
placed my Perseus in the Loggia de Lanzi. It received enormous praise.
I travelled a few days in the country. I felt insulted when the duke
did not promptly pay me a lot for my Perseus. I continued work on other
things. I was poisoned, bedridden, attended by doctors and recovered,
though it took a year before I was back to normal.

The duke said if I remained I'd not lack commissions. I stayed. He and
the duchess praised my work very highly. I was invited to return to
France. I chose to stay in Florence. Cardinal de Medici fell ill and
died on a trip.

Appendix (pp. 309-312): Historians wish Cellini had said more about the
trip and the deaths then. It is thought there was violence done. He had
become a Florentine noble in 1544, married in 1560 and had children. He
suffered illnesses in his final years; he died on Febrauary 13, 1571.

Michael McKenny writes: Benvenuto Cellini's Autobiography portrays his
time and its influence on the present. His personality type (arrogant,
demanding high payment, moving readily in search of money, thinking of
his family and considering himself above the law) is much represented
among modern Western societies, often presented as an expected norm for
talented folk.

Michael McKenny March 22-25, 2008 C.E.


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