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Another instance of this complete desertion of Benvenuto, and adoption of another's words, occurs just at the end of the same Canto, v. 150; and the Florentine edition again gives us the original text.
"Benvenuto, Messer Perugino," said the hostess, with her soft musical voice and graceful Italian accent, and she placed the hand of her boy in that of the artist. Gently he laid the other on the head of the youthful Raphael, and in a solemn and tender manner pronounced a benediction.
Municipal documents are human documents. They are the autobiographies of communities. The personalities of Topeka, Kansas, of Limoges, France, and of Heidelberg, Germany, rise before the impressionable student of municipal documents like the figures of personal autobiography, like Benvenuto Cellini, Marie Bashkirtsev, Benjamin Franklin, Miss Mary Maclane, Mr. George Moore.
"Bellini, Benvenuto Cellini, Botticelli?" he continued imperturbably. "What's the use of them when I can get Sargent every day?" asked Mrs. Bergmann. "A man of action, perhaps? Alexander, Bonaparte, Caesar, J., Cromwell, O., Hannibal?" "Too heavy for luncheon," she answered, "they would do for dinner." "Plain statesman? Bismarck, Count; Chatham, Lord; Franklin, B; Richelieu, Cardinal."
John Morley says, "There is nothing worse than mettle in a blind horse." So one might say there is nothing worse than sincerity in a superstitious person. Benvenuto Cellini is the true type of a literary and artistic Bad Man. Had he lived in Colorado in Eighteen Hundred Seventy, the Vigilance Committee would have used him to start a graveyard.
When I had uttered these words, a certain Maestro Alessandro broke silence and said, "Look you, Benvenuto, you are going to attempt an enterprise which the laws of art do not sanction, and which can not succeed." I turned upon him with such fury that he and all the rest of them exclaimed with one voice: "Oh then! Give orders! We will obey your least commands, so long as life is left to us."
The Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff, wherein are many morbid musings and information as to the development of her mind and anatomy, is intensely interesting; Amiel's Journal holds us with a tireless grasp; the Confessions of Saint Augustine can never die; Jean Jacques Rousseau's book was the favorite of such a trinity of opposites as Emerson, George Eliot and Walt Whitman; Pepys' Diary is so dull it is entertaining; and the Memoirs of Benvenuto Cellini have made a mediocre man immortal.
Benvenuto rode in a great fury to Pisa, where the Duke was, and said to him that he could not suffer that his genius should be trampled underfoot by one who was inferior to himself, and that he desired to make a great model in competition with Ammanati, in the same place; and the Duke, wishing to pacify him, granted him leave to have another arch of the Loggia partitioned off, and caused to be given to him materials for making, as he desired, a large model in competition with Ammanati.
Francis placed some of his religious near Mount Gargano and in some other parts, after which he came to Gubbio, where he cured a woman, the sinews of whose hands were contracted. Near Gubbio, a soldier called Benvenuto, asked to be admitted into the Order; he was admitted as a lay-brother, with directions to wait upon the lepers.
Of a bitter satirist, of Swift, for instance, it might be said, that the person or thing on which his satire fell shrivelled up as if the Devil had spit on it. The Fount of Tears, a traveller to discover it, and other similar localites. Benvenuto Cellini saw a Salamander in the household fire. It was shown him by his father, in childhood.
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