Having reached this climax, the matter settled down; the bishop’s anger subsided, and Benvenuto was assured that he would come to no harm if he acceded to the bishop’s request, but would be paid his price on delivery of the piece of plate. Accordingly he clothed himself in a coat of mail, armed himself with a dagger and, followed by a servant carrying the silver vase, proceeded to the bishop’s house where he was received in state; the servants were all drawn up around the bishop, who was himself seated in grim displeasure. Benvenuto was not in the least overawed and we may quote his words as he describes the end of the incident: “All this time I never once looked at him, or so much as answered a single word; at which his lordship seemed to discover more resentment than ever and having ordered pen, ink and paper, desired me to write him a receipt. I then looked him full in the face and told him that I would readily do so after I had received my money. The haughty bishop was then more exasperated than ever; but in tine, after a great deal of scolding and hectoring, I was paid and afterwards, having written an acquittance, left the place in high spirits.” The pope was highly delighted with this story when it reached him, and entirely approved of Cellini’s conduct, so that the bishop of Salamanca regretted and heartily repented what he had done. To make amends he sent word to Cellini, promising him more work, but the irrepressible goldsmith replied that he would undertake no further commissions unless he was paid in advance; an answer at which the pope laughed heartily when it was reported to him. Other patrons came forward; two cardinals, Cibo and Cornaro, ordered plate, and he designed a gold medal for a hat ornament which was esteemed a masterpiece of art. Under the advice of his friends he opened a shop and did an extensive business on his own account, adding to the other occupation that of seal engraver, a branch of art much in demand; for every cardinal had his own seal as large as the palm of a child ten years old, a costly affair and difficult in execution. Cellini applied himself with great assiduity to the work and mastered it. He also acquired the art of enamelling, a very delicate operation on account of the final use of fire which sometimes ruins and destroys the whole production. “I attached myself to it with the greatest ardour, and such was the pleasure I took in learning it that its greatest difficulties appeared delightful to me,” he says naïvely, and goes on to give us an amusing insight into his transparently conceited character. “This was through the peculiar indulgence of the Author of nature, who had gifted me with a genius so happy that I could with the utmost ease learn anything I gave my mind to. These several branches are very different from each other; insomuch that the man who excels in one seldom or never attains to an equal degree of perfection in any of the rest; whereas I,