The Autobiography is the first-person life of Benvenuto Cellini, a goldsmith, sculptor, and coin-maker of sixteenth-century Florence. He begins by declaring that any man who has accomplished something of merit and who values truth should write his own history, and that he is doing so past the age of fifty-eight, looking back over a turbulent career. The voice is boastful, vivid, and almost entirely concerned with himself.
The early books follow his training and his rise as a craftsman, first in Florence and then in Rome. He learns goldsmithing against his father's wish that he become a musician, quarrels with rivals, and wins commissions from cardinals and from the Pope. The same chapters that praise his skill also record street fights, vendettas, and killings, told with little remorse and much pride in his own daring.
His time in Rome reaches a peak with the Sack of Rome in 1527, during which he claims to have manned the guns of the Castel Sant'Angelo and even to have helped kill the Constable of Bourbon. Later he is imprisoned in that same castle on charges he says are false, suffers under a hostile castellan, and makes a daring escape over the walls, breaking his leg in the attempt before being recaptured and eventually freed.
Seeking better fortune, he enters the service of King Francis I of France, where he is given a workshop and produces fine plate and jewellery, including the famous saltcellar. Court intrigue and his own quarrelsome nature eventually drive him back to Florence and into the service of Duke Cosimo de' Medici, whose grudging patronage frames the final and most famous stretch of the book.
The closing books center on the casting of his bronze Perseus. Working through a fever, a workshop fire, and a furnace whose metal has caked solid, he throws in pewter dishes and platters to make the bronze flow, and the statue is saved at the last moment. The episode gathers the whole book's themes together: craft as proof of self, danger overcome by will, and the conviction that the work he leaves behind is his truest reply to every enemy.