“He hath gone up to heaven, who was the chief
Of men renowned in art’s immortal spheres;
Among the mighty dead he had no peers,
Nor shall earth see his like, in my belief.
O gentle sprite! if love still sway the blest,
Look down on him thou here didst love, and view
These tears that mourn my loss, not thy great good.
“There dost thou gaze on His beatitude
Who made our universe, and findest true
The form of Him thy skill for men expressed.”
Note 1. Francesco Fusconi, physician to Popes Adrian VI., Clement VII., and Paul III.
Note 2. Franzesi was a clever Italian poet. His burlesque Capitoli are printed with those of Berni and others.
Note 3. 'Inferno,' iii., the verses about Charon.
Note 4. 'Io ali possa soffiare in culo.'
Note 5. This sonnet is so insipid, so untrue to Cellini’s real place in art, so false to the far from saintly character of the man, that I would rather have declined translating it, had I not observed it to be a good example of that technical and conventional insincerity which was invading Italy at this epoch. Varchi was really sorry to hear the news of Cellini’s death; but for his genuine emotion he found spurious vehicles of utterance. Cellini, meanwhile, had a right to prize it, since it revealed to him what friendship was prepared to utter after his decease.
LXXXV
MY sickness had been of such a very serious nature that it seemed impossible for me to fling it off. That worthy man Maestro Francesco da Norcia redoubled his efforts, and brought me every day fresh remedies, trying to restore strength to my miserable unstrung frame. Yet all these endeavours were apparently insufficient to overcome the obstinacy of my malady, so that the physicians were in despair and at their wits’ ends what to do. I was tormented by thirst, but had abstained from drinking for many days according to the doctors’ orders. Felice, who thought he had done wonders in restoring me, never left my side. That old man ceased to give so much annoyance, yet sometimes he appeared to me in dreams.