Suddenly a change came over the situation. The cardinal of Ferrara came to Rome from France, and after an audience with the pope and a long and pleasant conversation, seeing him in a good humour and likely to grant favours, begged him in the most earnest manner imaginable to take pity upon Cellini. Many of his friends had already spoken on his behalf but vainly. “Although we make earnest and constant solicitation,” writes one, “yet there is no knowing how far the harshness and rage of this old fellow (Pope Paul III) will proceed. His (Cellini’s) offence is no more than what he has amply expiated by his sufferings. If his own perverse nature, which is certainly very obstinate, does not stand in the way, I entertain good hopes.” Luckily, the cardinal of Ferrara interposed opportunely, the Holy Father was mellow with wine and laughingly cried, “Take Benvenuto home with you without a moment’s delay,” giving the necessary orders on the spot and before a whisper could reach Pier Luigi, who would certainly have opposed the release. The pope’s permission reached the prison in the dead of night, Cellini was at once set free and conducted to the cardinal’s house, where he was well lodged and enjoyed the happiness which recovered liberty can bestow. His friends rejoiced greatly, but were still in doubt that Benvenuto would be permanently benefited. “In a little time his affairs should do well if he would let them,” says one, “but for that unmanageable head of his which makes one doubt whether there be anything fixed and certain in the world. We are continually holding up his own interest before his eyes, but he will not see it; the more we say the less he is inclined to hear.” His position was indeed by no means secure, for the very next day the pope had already repented of setting Cellini free. From this time forth Benvenuto was no more connected with the castle of St. Angelo, and his personal adventures do not concern us further. He presently transferred himself to Paris and entered the service of the French king, Francis I, with whom he remained for some years, obtaining a grant of naturalisation. He carried out a number of fine designs in his work, but was constantly engulfed in the intrigues of the court. He returned eventually to Florence, where he was commissioned to produce the great bronze of Perseus, which was long delayed in execution by the cabals and conspiracies of which he was perpetually the victim. When completed, it proved a very perfect piece of statuary, the more remarkable because Cellini had been chiefly successful heretofore with small figures. Vasari says that the work cannot be sufficiently commended. Vasari’s appreciation of Benvenuto is worth quoting. He describes him “as a man of great spirit and vivacity, bold, active, enterprising and formidable to his enemies, a man in short who knew as well how to speak to princes as to exert himself in his art.”