VIII. BENVENUTO CELLINI.
No sooner had Marcelline gained the ramparts, than the ladder she had ascended was drawn up by the sentinels. Before she could move off, a martial personage, accoutred in a steel cap and corslet, and armed with an arquebuss, came up and detained her.
“Ha! where have you been, sister?” he demanded, sternly. “Speak!—give an account of yourself.”
“I have been in the enemy's camp,” she replied, “and have spoken with the general himself.”
“With Bourbon!” exclaimed the soldier. “You are trifling with me.”
“On my life I am not,” she rejoined, “I have seen him as I see you, but I have failed in my object, which was to dissuade him from the attack.”
“I am not surprised at it,” said the soldier, contemptuously. “You have gone on a mad errand. Did you for a moment suppose that Bourbon would turn back at your entreaties?”
“Bourbon has a noble heart, and I thought to move him,” she rejoined.
“Tut! Rome is not likely to be saved from sack by a woman's prayers and entreaties,” said the soldier. “We must keep Bourbon and his bands out of the city, if we can. If they once get in, woe betide us! But how is this?” he cried, noticing the dilapidated state of the ramparts. “This wall ought to have been repaired.”
“It will be repaired in the morning, good Messer Benvenuto Cellini,” replied the sentinel.
“To-morrow may be too late,” remarked Cellini. “I will see our general about it without delay.”
“You need not go far to seek him, brave Benvenuto,” said Renzo da Ceri, marching towards them. “What have you to say to me?”
“I would pray your lordship to look at the condition of these ramparts,” said Cellini. “There is a breach as if made by cannon.”
“By Heaven! the wall is very ruinous here!” cried Renzo. “I cannot think how the gap escaped my notice.”
“Since it has escaped your lordship's quick eyes, it may escape those of the enemy,” said Cellini. “But it may be well to have it speedily repaired.”
“It shall be repaired to-morrow morning,” said Renzo.
“Provided Bourbon does not enter by it in the mean time,” said Cellini.
“Oh! he will not attempt the assault for a month,” rejoined Renzo, contemptuously. “He has no artillery. To-morrow, or next day at the latest, we shall have Count Guido Rangone, with five thousand fantassins and a corps of artillery. He is now at Ponte Salario. We shall also be speedily reinforced by detachments from the armies of the Duke of Urbino and the Marquis of Saluzzo. Rome, therefore, is secure.”
“Your lordship must pardon me, but I cannot think Rome secure while Bourbon is encamped before it,” remarked Cellini.
“Well, you have abandoned your trade of goldsmith, and have taken up arms for its defence,” said Renzo, laughing. “If you win as much renown as a soldier as you have done as a sculptor, Rome may be proud of you.”
“I will try,” said Cellini.
“Is this the famous Benvenuto Cellini?” inquired Marcelline, approaching them. “I knew him not.”
“Yes, this is he, who may vie with the greatest of the ancient sculptors,” said Renzo da Ceri.
“For the moment, I am a mere Roman soldier,” said Cellini. “I shall resume my profession as an artist when we have got rid of Bourbon. But who is she who inquires my name?”
“One you may be proud to know,” said Renzo. “This holy sister is Marcelline d'Herment, one of the Amazons who helped to defend Marseilles.”
“I have heard of her,” said Cellini. “I hope our Roman dames will follow her example. But hush!” he exclaimed, stepping towards the battlements, “I see two tall figures approaching the walls. They come nearer. Do you not distinguish them?”
“Perfectly,” replied Marcelline.
“Be silent, and we can hear what they say,” whispered Cellini. And after listening intently for a few moments, he added, “They have discovered the breach. It is here the assault will be made to-morrow morning.”
“How know you that?” demanded Renzo da Ceri. “I could hear nothing.”
“My ears never deceive me,” said Cellini. “Who are they, think you?”
“The tallest of the two is Bourbon,” replied Marcelline, in a whisper, “I recognise his voice and figure.”
“Bourbon!” exclaimed Cellini. “Then his hour is come.”
And kneeling down, he placed his arquebuss on the battlements and took deliberate aim at the duke. But just as he was about to fire, Marcelline caught hold of his hand and stopped him, and ere he could take fresh aim the two personages were gone.
“Maledizione! why did you interfere, sister?” cried Benvenuto, turning angrily upon her. “I should have killed him, and delivered Rome. I never miss my aim.”
“I would not have him die now,” she rejoined.
“Well, he shall not escape me,” said Cellini. “I heard him say he would be first to scale the walls.”
“And if he said so he will keep his word,” rejoined Marcelline.
“I will be ready for him. What says your excellency now?” he added to Renzo.
“I have little doubt that the assault will be made to-morrow morning, and at this point,” replied Renzo. “Since the breach cannot be repaired, I will send a sufficient force to defend it.”
“Be mine the privilege to fire the first shot,” said
Benvenuto.
“Agreed,” replied Renzo. “Not an arquebuss shall be discharged till you have fired.”