Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini Part 19

'Here soul, flesh, clothes their substance gross refine; Each bulky lout grows light like gossamere; Celestial thrones before purged eyeb.a.l.l.s s.h.i.+ne.

I?ll tell thee a great marvel! Friend, give ear! '

' The fancy took me on one day to write: Learn now what s.h.i.+fts one may be put to here.

My cell I search, p.r.i.c.k brows and hair upright, Then turn me toward a cranny in the door, '

' And with my teeth a splinter disunite;

Next find a piece of brick upon the floor, Crumble a part thereof to powder small, And form a paste by sprinkling water o?er. [2] '

'Then, then came Poesy with fiery call Into my carca.s.s, by the way methought Whence bread goes forth-there was none else at all.

'Now to return unto my primal thought: Who wills to know what weal awaits him, must First learn the ill that G.o.d for him hath wrought.

The jail contains all arts in act and trust; '

' Should you but hanker after surgeon?s skill, ?Twill draw the spoiled blood from your veins adust.

Next there is something in itself that will Make you right eloquent, a bold brave spark, '

' Big with high-soaring thoughts for good and ill.

Blessed is the man who lies in dungeon dark, Languis.h.i.+ng many a month, then takes his flight Of war, truce, peace he knows, and tells the mark. '

'Needs be that all things turn to his delight; The jail has crammed his brains so full of wit, They?ll dance no morris to upset the wight.

Perchance thou?lt urge: ?Think how thy life did flit; Nor is it true the jail can teach thee lore, To fill thy breast and heart with strength of it!?

Nay, for myself I?ll ever praise it more: Yet would I like one law pa.s.sed-that the man Whose acts deserve it should not scape this score.

Whoso hath gotten the poor folk in ban, I?d make him learn those lessons of the jail; For then he?d know all a good ruler can:

He?d act like men who weigh by reason?s scale, Nor dare to swerve from truth and right aside, Nor would confusion in the realm prevail.

While I was bound in prison to abide, Foison of priests, friars, soldiers I could see; But those who best deserved it least I spied.

Ah! could you know what rage came over me, When for such rogues the jail relaxed her hold!

This makes one weep that one was born to be!

I?ll add no more. Now I?m become fine gold, Such gold as none flings lightly to the wind, Fit for the best work eyes shall e?er behold.

Another point hath pa.s.sed into my mind, Which I?ve not told thee, Luca; where I wrote, Was in the book of one our kith and kind. [3]

There down the margins I was wont to note Each torment grim that crushed me like a vice: The paste my hurrying thoughts could hardly float.

To make an O, I dipped the splinter thrice In that thick mud; worse woe could scarcely grind Spirits in h.e.l.l debarred from Paradise.

Seeing I?m not the first by fraud confined, This I?ll omit; and once more seek the cell Wherein I rack for rage both heart and mind.

I praise it more than other tongues will tell; And, for advice to such as do not know, Swear that without it none can labour well.

Yet oh! for one like Him I learned but now, Who?d cry to me as by Bethesda?s sh.o.r.e: Take thy clothes, Benvenuto, rise and go!

Credo I?d sing, Salve reginas pour And Paternosters; alms I?d then bestow Morn after morn on blind folk, lame, and poor.

Ah me! how many a time my cheek must grow Blanched by those lilies! Shall I then forswear Florence and France through them for evermore? [4]

If to the hospital I come, and fair Find the Annunziata limned. I?ll fly: Else shall I show myself a brute beast there. [5]

These words flout not Her wors.h.i.+pped sanct.i.ty, Nor those Her lilies, glorious, holy, pure, The which illumine earth and heaven high!

But for I find at every coign obscure Base lilies which spread hooks where flowers should blow Needs must I fear lest these to ruin lure. [6]

To think how many walk like me in woe!

Born what, how slaved to serve that hateful sign!

Souls lively, graceful, like to G.o.ds below!

I saw that lethal heraldry decline From heaven like lightning among people vain; Then on the stone I saw strange l.u.s.tre s.h.i.+ne.

The castle?s bell must break ere I with strain Thence issued; and these things Who speaketh true In heaven on earth, to me made wondrous plain. [7]

Next I beheld a bier of sombre hue Adorned with broken lilies; crosses, tears; And on their beds a lost woe-stricken crew. [8]

I saw the Death who racks our souls with fears; This man and that she menaced, while she cried: ?I clip the folk who harm thee with these shears!?

That worthy one then on my brow wrote wide With Peter?s pen words which-for he bade shun To speak them thrice-within my breast I hide. [9]

Him I beheld who drives and checks the sun, Clad with its splendour ?mid his court on high, Seld-seen by mortal eyes, if e?er by one. [10]

Then did a solitary sparrow cry Loud from the keep; hearing which note, I said: ?He tells that I shall live and you must die!?

I sang, and wrote my hard case, head by head, Asking from G.o.d pardon and aid in need, For now If felt mine eyes outworn and dead.

Ne?er lion, tiger, wolf, or bear knew greed Hungrier than that man felt for human blood; Nor viper with more venomous fang did feed. [11]

The cruel chief was he of robbers? brood, Worst of the worst among a gang of knaves; Hist! I?ll speak soft lest I be understood!

Say, have ye seen catchpolls, the famished slaves, In act a poor man?s homestead to distrain, Smas.h.i.+ng down Christs, Madonnas, with their staves?

So on the first of August did that train Dislodge me to a tomb more foul, more cold:- ?November d.a.m.ns and dooms each rogue to pain!? [12]

I at mine ears a trumpet had which told Truth; and each word to them I did repeat, Reckless, if but grief?s load from me were rolled.

They, when they saw their final hope retreat, Gave me a diamond, pounded, no fair ring, Deeming that I must die if I should eat.

That villain churl whose office ?twas to bring My food, I bade taste first; but meanwhile thought: ?Not here I find my foe Durante?s sting!?

Yet erst my mind unto high G.o.d I brought Beseeching Him to pardon all my sin, And spoke a Miserere sorrow-fraught.

Then when I gained some respite from that din Of troubles, and had given my soul to G.o.d, Contented better realms and state to win,