Alexandre Dumas

“ Well, Benvenuto, where is my Jupiter?"
"Sire," replied Cellini, "I bring you the model of your Jupiter: but do you know of what I was dreaming as I looked at you and listened to you? I was dreaming of a fountain for your Fontainebleau,—a fountain to be surmounted by a colossal statue sixty feet high, holding a broken lance in its right hand, and with the left resting on its sword hilt. This statue, Sire, should represent Mars,—that is to say, your Majesty; for your nature is all courage, and you use your courage judiciously, and for the defence of your glory. ”

“ You have wounded her by some artist's whim, and it is your place to make the first advances toward her.
"If I wounded her," said Cellini, "I did it unintentionally, or rather without malice. She said some hitter words to me which I did not deserve; I put her back where she belonged, and she did deserve it."
"Never mind, never mind! forget what she said, Benvenuto, and make her forget your reply. I tell you again she is imperious and vindictive, and she has the king's heart in her hand,—a king who loves art, it is true, but who loves love more. ”

“ But you love me, Colombe, and so I am absolved. What shall we do? For two days I have been asking myself the question, and I do not know whether I begin to detest him, or whether I love him still. He loves you, it is true; but he has loved me so dearly, too, that my poor heart wavers and trembles in its perplexity like a reed shaken in the wind. What will he do? First of all, I shall tell him of Comte d'Orbec's designs, and I hope that he will deliver us from them. ”

“ It was his nature to look at everything on the brilliant rather than on the serious side, to aim more at effect than anything else, and to look upon battles as tournaments, and upon royalty as an art. With a mind well stored with strange, poetic, adventurous ideas, François I. made of his reign a theatrical performance, with the world for play-house.
On this day, as he was on the eve of dazzling a rival and Europe, his clemency and benignity were more charming than ever.
As if reassured by his smiling face, Triboulet rolled up to him just as he passed through the door. ”

“ Sire," said Benvenuto sadly, "be not so ambitious for my poor works. The richness of the material will destroy these treasures of my thought, I greatly fear. More lasting glory is to be attained by working in clay than in gold, Sire, and the names of us goldsmiths survive us but a little while. Necessity is sometimes a cruel master, Sire, and men are always greedy and stupid. Who can say that a silver cup for which your Majesty would give ten thousand ducats, might not be melted down for ten crowns?"
"How now! do you think that the King of France will ever pawn the dishes from his table?" ”

“ I admire the man, but I look in vain for the God. Consider, Benvenuto, that you are not an artist simply, but a Christian as well. My heart, you know, has often bled; that is to say, alas! my heart has often doubted; and I, too, have shaken off my depression when I saw Jesus holding out his hand to me, and have heard the sublime words, "Wherefore hast thou doubted?" Ah, Benvenuto, your image of him is less beautiful than he. In his celestial countenance there was the sadness of the afflicted father, and the clemency of the king who pardons. ”

“ What does it matter to you? Do you not know what mere words amount to? If Charles V. refuses to accept my terms I will say to the king, 'Sire, trust to my generous womanly instinct. You must not recoil before just and necessary reprisals.' And if the Emperor accepts, I will say, 'Sire, trust to my feminine, that is to say, feline sharpness; you must resign yourself to commit an infamous but advantageous act."
"Ah, madame!" said the Duke of Medina, bowing low, "what a pity it is that you should be a queen, you would have made such a perfect ambassador!" ”

“ But after ten or fifteen minutes of this aimless, blind wandering, his will reasserted itself, and he raised his head: his depression left him, and the fever returned.
"Go to!" he cried aloud, to such a degree did his mind dominate his body; "go to! in vain do they crowd the man, they cannot throw down the artist! Come, sculptor, and make them repent of their base deeds when they admire thy handiwork! Come, Jupiter, and prove that thou art still, not the king of the gods alone, but the master of mankind!" ”

“ Yes, I love Ascanio."
"In that case I pity you, madame," rejoined Colombe softly, "for Ascanio loves me."
"Yes, it is true, Ascanio does love you; but by seduction if I can, by falsehood if I must, by a crime if it becomes necessary, I will steal his love away from you, mark that! I am Anne d'Heilly, Duchesse d'Etampes!"
"Ascanio, madame, will love the one who loves him best."
"In God's name hear her!" cried the duchess, exasperated by such sublime confidence. "Would not one think that her love is unique, and that no other love can be compared to it?" ”

“ Your genius, which I read upon your broad forehead, in your ardent glance and your passionate gestures, would impose grave duties on her who should bear your name. I was ready to undertake them. Happiness had for me the solemnity of a divine mission. I would not have been your wife, Benvenuto, I would have been your friend, your sister, your mother. Your noble existence belongs to all mankind, I know, and I would have assumed no other right than that of diverting you in your ennui, of uplifting you in your moments of depression. ”

“ So it was that the master's wrath was terrible to behold, when, happening to turn his head, he saw Catherine behind him, with her great eyes open wider than ever. The imprudent damsel's desire to see found little to gratify it, after all. A few drawings upon the walls, a green curtain before the window, a statue of Hebe begun, and a collection of sculptor's utensils, comprised the whole contents of the room.
"What do you want, little serpent? Why have you come here? In God's name will you follow me to hell?" cried Benvenuto at sight of Catherine. ”

“ I have loved, I love, and I shall love,—God, my father, and Ascanio. But in the past my love for Ascanio, whom I had not then met, was a dream; at present it is a cause of suffering; in the future, it is a hope."
"Very good," said the duchess, restraining her jealousy, and forcing back her tears; "but do not half confide in me, Colombe. What do you mean to do now? How can you, poor child, contend with two such powerful wills as your father's and Comte d'Orbec's? To say nothing of the king's having seen you and fallen in love with you." ”

“ Ascanio continued, with his eyes still fixed upon Colombe, "I know that we can add nothing to your beauty. God is made none the richer by decking out his altar. But we can at least surround your graceful form with those things which are attractive and beautiful like itself; and when we poor, humble artificers of splendor and enchantment from the depths of our obscurity see you pass by in a blaze of glory, we console ourselves for being so far below you by the thought that our art has helped to raise you to the height whereon you stand." ”

“ I would make you great, and you men can do without love if you attain glory: you are ambitious,—you may not know it yet, but you are. As for the king's love, don't be alarmed about that: I will turn it aside upon some other to whom he will give his heart while I retain his mind. Choose, Ascanio. Powerful through my means and with me, or I humble through your means and with you. Look you: a short time since, as you know, I was in this chair, and the most powerful courtiers were at my feet. Sit you in my place: sit you there, and behold me at your feet. Oh, how I love to be here, Ascanio! ”

“ Benvenuto's smile, which had made that faded heart blossom anew, was taken from her, and the heart lost its freshness once more.
With her childish light-heartedness her childish purity had gradually vanished; her old nature, powerfully assisted by ennui, gently recovered the upper hand. A newly painted wall keeps its colors in the sun and loses them in the rain: Scozzone, abandoned by Cellini for some unknown mistress, was no longer held to him save by a remnant of her pride. Pagolo had long paid court to her: she spoke to Cellini of his love, thinking that his jealousy would be aroused. ”

“ To arrive at fortune, or even to attain glory, an artist must often stoop to base, crawling expedients. You will be beyond all necessity for that with me. I will lift you ever higher and higher; I will be your stepping-stone. With me you will continue to be the proud, the noble, the pure Ascanio."
"But Colombe! Colombe, madame! Is not she too an immaculate pearl?"
"My child, believe what I say," replied the duchess, relapsing from feverish exaltation to melancholy. "Your pure white, innocent Colombe will make your life monotonous and dreary. You are both too divine. ”

“ But, Ascanio, mark this: there are other passions which do not make me laugh, but make me tremble,—terrible, insensate passions, as impossible as things we see in dreams."
"Mon Dieu!" thought Ascanio, "can he have learned aught of my mad passion for Colombe?"
"They afford neither pleasure nor happiness," continued Cellini, "and yet they take possession of one's whole being; they are vampires which slowly drink your whole existence, which devour your heart little by little; they hold you in a deathly embrace, and you cannot extricate yourself. Ascanio, Ascanio, beware of such a passion. ”