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Book FirstPart LXXXVIII
Part LXXXVIII
When I reached Rome, and had enjoyed the company of my friends awhile, I
began the Duke`s medal. In a few days I finished the head in steel, and it was
the finest work of the kind which I had ever produced. At least once every day
there came to visit me a sort of blockhead named Messer Francesco Soderini. ^1
When he saw what I was doing, he used frequently to exclaim: "Barbarous
wretch! you want them to immortalise that ferocious tyrant! You have never
made anything so exquisite, which proves you our inveterate foe and their
devoted friend; and yet the Pope and he have had it twice in mind to hang you
without any fault of yours. That was the Father and the Son; now beware of the
Holy Ghost." It was firmly believed that Duke Alessandro was the son of Pope
Clement. Messer Francesco used also to say and swear by all his saints that,
if he could, he would have robbed me of the dies for that medal. I responded
that he had done well to tell me so, and that I would take such care of them
that he should never see them more.
[Footnote 1: He had been banished in 1530 as a foe to the Medicean house.]
I now sent to Florence to request Lorenzino that he would send me the
reverse of the medal. Niccolo da Monte Aguto, to whom I had written, wrote
back, saying that he had spoken to that mad melancholy philosopher Lorenzino
for it; he had replied that he was thinking night and day of nothing else, and
that he would finish it as soon as he was able. Nevertheless, I was not to set
my hopes upon his reverse, but I had better invent one out of my own head, and
when I had finished it, I might bring it without hesitation to the Duke, for
this would be to my advantage.
I composed the design of a reverse which seemed to me appropriate, and
pressed the work forward to my best ability. Not being, however, yet recovered
from that terrible illness, I gave myself frequent relaxation by going out on
fowling expeditions with my friend Felice. This man had no skill in my art;
but since we were perpetually day and night together, everybody thought he was
a first-rate craftsman. This being so, as he was a fellow of much humour, we
used often to laugh together about the great credit he had gained. His name
was Felice Guadagni (Gain), which made him say in jest: "I should be called
Felice Gain-little if you had not enabled me to acquire such credit that I
can call myself Gain-much." I replied that there are two ways of gaining:
the first is that by which one gains for one`s self, the second that by which
one gains for others; so I praised him much more for the second than the
first, since he had gained for me my life.
We often held such conversations; but I remember one in particular on the
day of Epiphany, when we were together near La Magliana. It was close upon
nightfall, and during the day I had shot a good number of ducks and geese;
then, as I had almost made my mind up to shoot no more that time, we were
returning briskly toward Rome. Calling to my dog by his name, Barucco, and not
seeing him in front of me, I turned round and noticed that the well-trained
animal was pointing at some geese which had settled in a ditch. I therefore
dismounted at once, got my fowling-piece ready, and at a very long range
brought two of them down with a single ball. I never used to shoot with more
than one ball, and was usually able to hit my mark at two hundred cubits,
which cannot be done by other ways of loading. Of the two geese, one was
almost dead, and the other, though badly wounded, was flying lamely. My dog
retrieved the one and brought it to me; but noticing that the other was diving
down into the ditch, I sprang forward to catch it. Trusting to my boots, which
came high up the leg, I put one foot forward; it sank in the oozy ground; and
so, although I got the goose, the boot of my right leg was full of water. I
lifted my foot and let the water run out; then, when I had mounted, we made
haste for Rome. The cold, however, was very great, and I felt my leg freeze,
so that I said to Felice: "We must do something to help this leg, for I don`t
know how to bear it longer." The good Felice, without a word, leapt from his
horse, and gathering some thistles and bits of stick, began to build a fire. I
meanwhile was waiting, and put my hands among the breast-feathers of the
geese, and felt them very warm. So I told him not to make the fire, but filled
my boot with the feathers of the goose, and was immediately so much comforted
that I regained vitality.
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