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Updated: June 28, 2025
"I doubt whether it could be managed," Marcone answered with a very grave face. "Certainly it would want a lot of thinking out for anything to come of it. But" he stopped and looked at Martini "if it should be possible would you do it?" Martini was a reserved man at ordinary times; but this was not an ordinary time. He looked straight into the smuggler's face. "Would I do it?" he repeated.
In that same place, then, which that master held as the official in charge of the woodwork of the Office of Works, Francesco made portraits of his friend Piero di Marcone and of Avveduto del Cegia, the dresser of minever-furs, who was also much his friend; which Avveduto, besides many other things by the hand of Francesco that he possesses, has a portrait of Francesco himself, executed in oils with his own hand, and very lifelike.
While engaged in the workshop of Marcone, Benvenuto came to blows with some young men who had attacked his brother, and was obliged to leave Florence for a time. At this period he visited Siena, Bologna, and Pisa, gaming his livelihood by working in the shops of goldsmiths, and steadily advancing in his art. It must not be thought that this education was a mean one for so great an artist.
He was close beside the roan I saw him cut the tether and I handed him a loaded pistol myself before I mounted. The only thing I can suppose is that he missed his footing, being lame, in trying to mount. But even then, he could have fired." "No, it wasn't that," Marcone interposed. "He didn't attempt to mount.
At the age of fifteen I engaged myself with a goldsmith called Marcone; and so great was my inclination to improve that in a few months I rivalled most of the journeymen in the business.
He turned slowly from the blood-stained spot and walked away, the priest and sergeant following. At the gate he paused and looked back, with a ghostlike, still surprise. "He is dead." A few hours later Marcone went up to a cottage on the hillside to tell Martini that there was no longer any need for him to throw away his life.
His Fame His Autobiography Its Value for the Student of History, Manners, and Character, in the Renaissance Birth, Parentage, and Boyhood Flute-playing Apprenticeship to Marcone Wanderjahr The Goldsmith's Trade at Florence Torrigiani and England Cellini leaves Florence for Rome Quarrel with the Guasconti Homicidal Fury Cellini a Law to Himself Three Periods in his Manhood Life in Rome Diego at the Banquet Renaissance Feeling for Physical Beauty Sack of Rome Miracles in Cellini's Life His Affections Murder of his Brother's Assassin Sanctuary Pardon and Absolution Incantation in the Colosseum First Visit to France Adventures on the Way Accused of Stealing Crown Jewels in Rome Imprisonment in the Castle of S. Angelo The Governor Cellini's Escape His Visions The Nature of his Religion Second Visit to France The Wandering Court Le Petit Nesle Cellini in the French Law Courts Scene at Fontainebleau Return to Florence Cosimo de' Medici as a Patron Intrigues of a petty Court Bandinelli The Duchess Statue of Perseus End of Cellini's Life Cellini and Machiavelli.
It's no use trying to slip away without being seen." Marcone slipped the reins into the Gadfly's hand. "Make haste! Ride out to the bridge and let the horse go; you can hide in the ravine. We're all armed; we can keep them back for ten minutes." "No. I won't have you fellows taken. Stand together, all of you, and fire after me in order.
Marcone struck his mare's flank with the stirrup; the hoofs of the cavalry horses were thundering up the hill behind him; and it would have been worse than useless to stay and be taken too.
Five of the conspirators were already on horseback and dashing up the hilly street. Marcone sprang on to the back of his mare. In the moment of riding away, he glanced back to see whether his leader was in need of help.
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