[Illustration: GIOVANNI BOLOGNA MERCURY (_p._ 210) Bargello, Florence] [Illustration: BENVENUTO CELLINI PERSEUS Loggia dei Lanzi, Florence] These darker times heralded the halcyon days of Cellini’s life, which began when he exchanged the dungeons of Saint Angelo for the court of Francis I. With a salary of 700 golden scudi a year and the title of “Seigneur,” Cellini joined the painters, sculptors and goldsmiths whom Il Rosso had gathered together for Francis I. (the school of Fontainebleau). Cellini’s work at this time is of small interest to the student of the history of sculpture. In those days he was a goldsmith. The great bronze personification of a water nymph, now in the Louvre, shows that Cellini had already dreamt of fame as a sculptor. It equally shows that as yet his conceptions would not bear the scrutiny a life-sized design necessarily challenges. Cellini’s “Water Nymph” is a glorified piece of goldsmithery. But on his return to Florence in 1545, Cellini started upon a work that was to silence all doubt as to his capacity to succeed in the realm of pure sculpture. By this time Francis I. had tired of the hot-tempered Florentine. Coming home, Cellini persuaded the reigning Medicean prince to entrust him with a commission for a “Perseus” for the Loggia dei Lanzi. The “Autobiography” gives a vivid account of the sculptor’s four years’ struggle with circumstance. Now, the interest of the Duke and his Duchess waned. Now, money, material, or both, were wanting. The promised salary was not forthcoming. Qualified assistants were denied. Constant quarrels with rivals added to these general difficulties. We can realize a measure of Cellini’s troubles from his story of the casting of the “Perseus”—one of the most vigorous romances in the history of art. We take up the tale where the cast has been placed in the furnace and the metal introduced. Disaster follows disaster. Whether the details have been coloured by the vivid imagination of the artist or no matters little. We hear how the heat sets fire to the shop on the one hand. On the other, a rain-storm threatens to cool the furnace, in spite of the stacks of pine that have been piled around the statue and its metal casing. In the midst of the excitement Cellini is suddenly attacked by a violent intermitting fever. “In short, I was so ill that I was forced to take to my bed.” Cellini therefore left his ten assistants to carry on as best they could. “In this manner did I continue for two hours in a violent fever, which I every moment perceived to increase, and I was incessantly crying out, ‘I am dying, I am dying!’