LXXXIX
I returned to the Loggia,[1] whither my Perseus had already been brought, and went on putting the last touches to my work, under the old difficulties always; that is to say Jack of money, and a hundred untoward accidents, the half of which would have cowed a man armed with adamant.
However, I pursued my course as usual; and one morning, after I had heard mass at San Piero Scheraggio,that brute Bernardone, broker, worthless goldsmith, and by the Duke's grace purveyor to the mint, passed by me. No sooner had he got outside the church than the dirty pig let fly four cracks which might have been heard from San Miniato. I cried: "Yah! pig, poltroon, donkey! is that the noise your filthy talents make?" and ran off for a cudgel. He took refuge on the instant in the mint; while I stationed myself inside my house-door, which I left ajar, setting a boy at watch upon the street to warn me when the pig should leave the mint. After waiting some time, I grew tired, and my heat cooled. Reflecting, then, that blows are not dealt by contract, and that some disaster might ensue, I resolved to wreak my vengeance by another method. The incident took place about the feast of our San Giovanni, one or two days before; so I composed four verses, and stuck them up in an angle of the church where people go to ease themselves. The verses ran as follows:
"Here lieth Bernardone, ass and pig,
Spy, broker, thief, in whom Pandora planted
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- ↑ That is, the Loggia de' Lanzi, on the great piazza of Florence, where Cellini's statue still stands.
