Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini | Page 8

then his eyes chanced to fall upon a pair of
scissors; and so, while soothing and caressing me, he cut its tail and
mouths off. Afterwards, when the great peril had been thus averted, he
took the occurrence for a good augury.
When I was about five years old my father happened to be in a
basement-chamber of our house, where they had been washing, and
where a good fire of oak-logs was still burning; he had a viol in his
hand, and was playing and singing alone beside the fire. The weather
was very cold. Happening to look into the fire, he spied in the middle
of those most burning flames a little creature like a lizard, which was
sporting in the core of the intensest coals. Becoming instantly aware of
what the thing was, he had my sister and me called, and pointing it out
to us children, gave me a great box on the ears, which caused me to
howl and weep with all my might. Then he pacified me
good-humouredly, and spoke as follows: “My dear little boy, I am not

striking you for any wrong that you have done, but only to make you
remember that that lizard which you see in the fire is a salamander, a
creature which has never been seen before by any one of whom we
have credible information.” So saying, he kissed me and gave me some
pieces of money.
Note 1. The word is 'bocche,' so I have translated it by 'mouths.' But
Cellini clearly meant the gaping claws of the scorpion.
V
MY father began teaching me to play upon the flute and sing by note;
by notwithstanding I was of that tender age when little children are
wont to take pastime in whistles and such toys, I had an inexpressible
dislike for it, and played and sang only to obey him. My father in those
times fashioned wonderful organs with pipes of wood, spinets the
fairest and most excellent which then could be seen, viols and lutes and
harps of the most beautiful and perfect construction. He was an
engineer, and had marvellous skill in making instruments for lowering
bridges and for working mills, and other machines of that sort. In ivory
he was the first who wrought really well. But after he had fallen in love
with the woman who was destined to become my mother-perhaps what
brought them together was that little flute, to which indeed he paid
more attention than was proper-he was entreated by the fifers of the
Signory to play in their company. Accordingly he did so for some time
to amuse himself, until by constant importunity they induced him to
become a member of their band. Lorenzo de’ Medici and Pietro his son,
who had a great liking for him, perceived later on that he was devoting
himself wholly to the fife, and was neglecting his fine engineering
talent and his beautiful art. [1] So they had him removed from that post.
My father took this very ill, and it seemed to him that they had done
him a great despite. Yet he immediately resumed his art, and fashioned
a mirror, about a cubit in diameter, out of bone and ivory, with figures
and foliage of great finish and grand design. The mirror was in the form
of a wheel. In the middle was the looking-glass; around it were seven
circular pieces, on which were the Seven Virtues, carved and joined of
ivory and black bone. The whole mirror, together with the Virtues, was

placed in equilibrium, so that when the wheel turned, all the Virtues
moved, and they had weights at their feet which kept them upright.
Possessing some acquaintance with the Latin tongue, he put a legend in
Latin round his looking-glass, to this effect-”Whithersoever the wheel
of Fortune turns, Virtue stands firm upon her feet:”
Rota sum: semper, quoquo me verto, stat Virtus.
A little while after this he obtained his place again among the fifers.
Although some of these things happened before I was born, my
familiarity with them has moved me to set them down here. In those
days the musicians of the Signory were all of them members of the
most honourable trades, and some of them belonged to the greater
guilds of silk and wool; [2] and that was the reason why my father did
not disdain to follow this profession, and his chief desire with regard to
me was always that I should become a great performer on the flute. I
for my part felt never more discontented than when he chose to talk to
me about this scheme, and to tell me that, if I liked, he discerned in me
such aptitudes that I might become the best man in the world.
Note