onducted to Fra
Damiano's poor cell, he knocked at the door. The friar, having opened
and allowed the Emperor to enter, shut it quickly. "Stay," said the
Emperor, "that is the Duke of Ferrara, who follows me." "I know him,"
answered Fra Damiano, "and that is why I will never let him enter my
cell." "And why?" said Charles V.; "have you anything of his doing to
complain of then?" "Listen, your majesty," answered the lay brother. "I
had to come from Bergamo to Bologna to undertake the work of this choir.
I had with me these tools which you see, few in number, but necessary
for the work in which it is my study to worthily spend my life, and to
delight in the art. I had scarcely touched the frontiers of Ferrara when
they not only obliged me, a poor friar, to pay a heavy and unjust tax,
but the manner of doing it was most offensive. Now, while that duke
allows such roguery in his State, it is right that he should not see
this work which you see." Charles smiled, and promised to obtain from
Duke Alfonso the amplest satisfaction. Going out of the cell he told the
duke the reason of Fra Damiano's anger, and he not only promised to
repay the loss which he had suffered, but conceded a patent to him, by
which he and his pupils were for ever free from any tax or duty when
crossing the duchy of Ferrara. Then they all came laughing and joking
into the cell, and Fra Damiano, to show them that his tarsie were not
painted with a brush took a little plane and passed it over a panel with
some force, showing how the colours, after that treatment, still
retained their integrity and beauty. And then he gave the Emperor a most
beautiful piece of the Crucifixion, and another to the Duke of Ferrara,
who valued it greatly. Locatelli gives some conversations between Fra
Damiano and his assistant Zanetto, which must have preceded this visit,
which are worth recording for their racy expression, according well with
his reported action. "If it were in my power I would nail up this door
for Charles and for all the dukes of the world. This art which I
exercise is exceeding dear to me, and I hate to have to do with these
signori who manage things after their own fashion; and sad it is for
those who have to endure it. I respect His Majesty the Emperor, and hold
him to be a great man, but the fate of Rome sticks in my throat. That
other, too, who accompanies him--" "Who?" interrupted Zanetto, "the
Pope?" "Oh, rubbish; the Pope! The Duke of Ferrara. With him