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IN 1474, under a lucky star, was born a son to Lodovico di Lionardo
Buonarroti Simoni, descended, it is said, from the ancient and
noble family of the Counts of Canossa. This Lodovico was Podesta
that year of Chiusi and Caprese, near Vernia, where S. Francis
received the stigmata, and, as I have said, there was born to
him on Sunday the 6th of March, in the eighth hour of the night,
a son, to whom he gave the name of Michael Angelo, perceiving
that he was something greater than usual, Mercury and Venus at
his birth being in the second house of Jove, which demonstrated
that he would produce marvellous and stupendous works of art and
genius. Lodovico, his time of office being finished, returned
to Florence to Settignano, three miles from the city, where he
had a small estate. The place was rich in a hard stone, which
was con stantly beitlg worked by stonecutters, mostly born in
the place, and the wife of one of these stonecutters was made
nurse to Michael Angelo Speaking of this once to Vasari, Michael
Angelo said jestingly, "Giorgio, if I have anything of genius,
it came to me from being born in the subtle air of your country
of Arezzo, while from my nurse I got the chisel and hammer with
which I make my figures."
As in time many sons were born to Lodovico, and his revenues were
small, he set them to the woollen and silk trades, Michael Angelo,
who was already growing up, being placed at school with Master
Francesco da Urbino. But his inclination to the arts of design
being strong, he spent all his time in drawing, as far as he could
do so secretly, for he was often scolded by his father and those
who were over him, and sometimes beaten for it, they supposing,
perhaps, that it was a low thing, and unworthy of his ancient
house. At that time Michael Angelo made friends with Francesco
Granacci, who; being then a youth, had been placed with Domenico
del Ghirlandajo to learn painting; and Granacci loving Michael
Angelo, and seeing him clever at drawing, used to give him every
day drawings of Ghirlandajo's, who was esteemed not only in Florence
but through all Italy as one of the best masters then living.
By this means the desire grew stronger every day in Michael Angelo,
and Lodovico, seeing there was no help for it, by the advice of
his friends determined to put him with Ghirlandajo.
Michael Angelo was at this time fourteen years old, and he made
such progress that he astonished Domenico, who saw that he not
only surpassed his other pupils, of whom he had a great number,
but often equalled the things he did himself. It happened once
that one of the boys who was learning there had copied with a
pen some women out of one of Ghirlandajo's works, and Michael
Angelo, taking the paper, with a thicker pen outlined one of the
women again, as she should have been drawn; and it is a wonderful
thing to see the difference, and consider the courage of the youth
who was daring enough to correct his master's things. I have this
drawing still, as a relic, having received it from Granaccio;
and in the year 1550, when he was in Rome, Giorgio showed it to
Michael Angelo, who recognised it and was glad to see it, saying
modestly that he knew more of the art when he was a boy than now
he was old.
At that time the magnificent Lorenzo de' Medici had filled his
garden on the Piazza of S. Marco with ancient and good sculpture,
so that the terraces and alleys were adorned with good antique
figures in marble, and with pictures and other things by the best
masters in Italy and elsewhere. And not only were they a great
ornament to the garden, but they became a school and academy for
young painters and sculptors, particularly for young nobles; for
Lorenzo held that those who are born of noble blood can more easily
attain perfection in anything than those who come of low birth.
Lorenzo therefore always favoured men of talent, but particularly
nobles who had any inclination to art; so it is no wond'er that
some came forth from that school to astound the world. Besides
this, he not only provided food and clothing for those who being
poor could not afford time for study, but he also offered rewards
for those who excelled in anything, that the youths by competing
together might become more perfect. The head of this academy was
Bertoldo, an old Florentine sculptor and a pupil of Donatello's.
He taught the youths, and at the same time had the care of the
things in the garden, and many drawings, cartoons, and models
from the hand of Donatello, Brunellesco, Masaccio, Paolo Uccello,
Fra Giovanni, and other masters native and foreign. And, indeed,
these arts cannot be learned except by long study and by copying
good works, and he who has not the opportunity, although he may
be greatly endowed by nature, wi!l be long in attaining perfection.
Lorenzo, therefore, lamenting that there were no great sculptors
in his time, though there were many painters of the greatest fame,
asked Domenico Ghirlandajo if he had in his workshop any youths
who were inclined to sculpture, to sond them to his garden. Now
Domenico held Michael Angelo and Francesco Granacci to be the
best of his pupils. So these two going to the garden, found young
Torrigiano there working upon some figures in clay as Bertoldo
had directed him. This Torrigian'o was by nature very proud and
choleric, and being robust and fierce and courageous, he domineered
over all the others. His principal occupation was sculpture, but
he also worked in clay in a very beautiful manner. He could not
endure, however, that any one should ever surpass him, and would
with his own hands injure any work of another which he could not
equal; and if the other resented it, they often came to something
more than words about it. He took a particular dislike to Michael
Angelo, for no other reason than because he saw that he worked
studiously, and knew that he drew at home secretly at night and
on feast days, by which means he surpassed all the others in the
garden, and was much in favour with the great Lorenzo. Therefore,
moved by envy, he was always seeking to offend him in word or
deed, and having one day come to blows, Torrigiano gave Michael
Angelo such a blow with his fist on his nose that he broke it,
and Michael Angelo bore the mark of it as long as he lived. The
thing having come to the ears of Lorenzo, he was so angry that
if Torrigiano had not fled from Florence he would have been severely
punished. He fled to Rome, and was employed by Alexander VI. in
the building of the Borgia tower, but being led astray by some
Florentine youths, he turned soldier, and joining the Duke Valentino,
bore himself valiantly in the war in Romagna. He was afterwards
in the war of Pisa, and was with Pietro de' Medici in the deed
of arms on the Garigliano, where he obtained a pair of colours
and earned the name of the brave standardbearer. But finding he
was never likely to attain to the rank of captain, and had not
advanced his ovvn affairs by war, but had rather lost his time,
he returned to sculpture. He made some little figures in marble
and bronze for some Florentine merchants, and was by them brought
to England. There he worked for the king many things in marble,
bronze, and wood, competing with the masters of that land, all
of whom he surpassed; and he earned such honours and rewards that
if he had not been a person without any selfcontrol, he would
have lived and died there quietly. However, leaving England, he
went to Spain, where he produced many works which are much esteemed,
and was charged by the Duke of Arcos to make a Madonna and Child
for him, the duke making him such fine promises that he thought
he should be rich for ever. Having finished the work, the duke
paid him in those coins which are called maravedis, which
are worth little or nothing; but Torrigiano, seeing two men laden
with money come to his house, was fully persuaded that he was
very rich. When, however, he had had it counted by one of his
Florentine friends, and reduced to Italian money, he found there
was not quite thirty ducats. Upon this, supposing himself to have
been cheated, he went and destroyed in his fury the statue he
had made for the duke. The Spaniard in his turn, considering himself
insulted, accused Torrigiano of heresy. He was taken to prison,
and brought up day after day, being sent from one inquisitor to
another, and finally adjudged worthy of the gravest punishment.
But meanwhile Torrigiano had fallen into a state of melancholy,
and passed several days without eating, by which he brought himself
to such weakness that he died, saving himself thus from shame,
for it is said he had been condemned to death.
Another of the students in the garden of the Medici was Giuliano
Bugiardini, who was united in close and intimate friendship with
Michael Angelo, and loved him much. Michael Angelo returned his
love, not because he saw anything very profound in him, but because
he bore so much love to art. There was a certain natural goodness
and simplicity in him, without any envy or malice, which pleased
Buonarroti infinitely. He had no other fault than loving his own
works too much. For though this is a common fault with men, he
passed all bounds; for which reason Michael Angelo used to call
him blessed, because he was content with what he knew, and himself
unhappy because his works never satisfied him fully.
Ottaviano de' Medici having secretly asked him to draw Michael
Angelo, he set to work, and having kept him still for two hours,
for he was fond of his conversation, he said to him, "Michael
Angelo, if you would like to see yourself, come here, for I have
just caught your look." Michael Angelo got up, and looking
at the portrait said, "What have you done? you have put one
of my eyes in my temple; look and see." Giuliano looked at
it several times, and said, "It does not seem so to me; but
sit down and I shall see a little better how it is." Buonarroti,
who saw what the mistake was, sat down laughing, and Giuliano
looked again and again at Michael Angelo and the portrait, and
then getting up at last said, "It seems that the thing is
exactly as I have drawn it." "Then," answered Buonarroti,
"it is a defect of nature; go on, and do not spare pencils
or art."
M. Palla Rucellai had given him a picture to paint for his altar
in S. Maria Novella, and Giuliano began the martyrdom of S. Catherine;
but he kept it on hand for twelve years, not having invention
or knowledge enough for such a work. But Rucellai pressing for
it to be done, he resolved one day to take Michael Angelo to see
it, and having told him with what trouble he had made the lightning
coming down from heaven and breaking the wheel, and the sun coming
out of a cloud, he prayed Michael Angelo, who could not help laughing
at his troubles, to tell him how to do eight or ten principal
figures of the soldiers standing in file on guard, for he could
not see how to foreshorten them so that they should appear all
in a row, or how he could find room for them in so narrow a place.
Buonarroti, feeling compassion for the poor man, took up a piece
of charcoal and sketched a file of naked figures with all the
judgment and excellence proper to him, and went away with many
thanks from Giuliano. Not long after, the latter brought Il Tribolo
his friend to see what Buonarroti had done, and told him all about
it; but because Buonarroti had only sketched them in outline,
without any shadow, Bugiardini could not carry them out; so Il
Tribolo resolved to help him and he made some rough models in
clay, giving them all that rough force which Michael Angelo had
put into the drawing; and so he brought them to Giuliano. But
this manner did not please Bugiardini's smooth fancy, and as soon
as Il Tribolo was gone he took a brush and, dipping it in water,
smoothed them all down. Il Tribolo, hearing about it from Giuliano
himself, laughed at his honest simplicity, and the work was at
last finished, so that none would have known that Michael Angelo
had ever looked at it.
Giuliano, when he was old and poor, and doing little work, took
great pains over a Pieta in a tabernacle which was to go to Spain.
To reprcsent the darkness at the death of the Saviour, he made
a Night on a black ground, copying the figure from Michael Angelo's
in the sacristy of S. Lorenzo. But that statue having no emblem
but an owl, Giuliano added his own conceits--a net with a lantern
for catching thrushes at night, a little vessel with a candle
in it, besides nightcaps and pillows and bats. And when Michael
Angelo saw the work he nearly killed himself with laughing at
the strange things with which Bugiardini had enriched his Night.
Giuliano was once telling Il Bronzino how he had seen a very beautiful
woman, and after he had praised her a great deal, Il Bronzino
asked, "Do you know her?" "No," he replied;
"but she is very beautiful. Think she is like a picture of
mine, and that is enough."
But to return to Michael Angelo in the garden. When he saw Torrigiano's
work in clay he was fired with emulation. He set himself to imitate
an ancient head of an old faun, and although he had never touched
marble or a chisel before, he succeeded so well that Lorenzo was
quite astonished. Seeing that out of his own fancy he had opened
the mouth and shown the tongue and teeth, De' Medici said in jest,
but speaking gravely, as was his wont, "You ought to know
that old men never have all their teeth, but have always lost
some." Michael Angelo, with his simple respect and love for
this lord, thought he spoke in earnest, and no sooner was he departed
than he broke away a tooth and altered the gum to look as if he
had lost it, and waited with desire the return of his Magnificence.
He, when he came and saw the simplicity of Michael Angelo, laughed
much, telling the story to his friends. But desiring to assist
him, he sent for Lodovico his father, and prayed him to give him
his son, promising that he would treat him like a son of his own.
And he willingly consenting Lorenzo gave him a room in his house,
and he eat continually at his table with his sons and the noble
persons who were around his Magnificence.
This was in the year after he had gone to Domenico, when he was
about fifteen or sixteen years old, and he stayed in that house
four years, until the death of the magnificent Lorenzo.
Afterwards Michael Angelo returned to his father's house, but
Piero de' Medici, Lorenzo's heir, often sent for him, and one
winter when it snowed heavily in Florence, he made him make a
statue of snow in his courtyard, which was most beautiful. When
the Medici were driven out of Florence, Michael Angelo had gone
to Bologna and Venice, having left some weeks before, for he feared
some evil would befall him from his intimacy with that house,
seeing the insolence and bad government of Piero de' Medici. He
tarried in Bologna a year and then returned to Florence, where
he made a sleeping Cupid, which being shown by Baldassari del
Milanese to Lorenzo di Pier Francesco de' Medici, he said, "If
you were to bury it till it looked old, and then sent it to Rome,
I am sure it would pass for an antique, and you would get much
more for it than if you sold it here." Some say that Michael
Angelo did so, making it look old, and others that Milanese carried
it to Rome and buried it in one of his vineyards, and then sold
it as an antique for two hundred ducats to the Cardinal S. Giorgio.
However it may be, it brought such reputation to Michael Angelo
that he was summoned to Rome by the Cardinal S. Giorgio, and tarried
there a year, but the cardinal, knowing little of art, gave him
nothing to do. Nevertheless during his stay in Rome he made much
progress in the study of art, and the Cardinal de S. Denis, desiring
to leave some worthy memorial of himself in so famous a city,
caused him to make a Pieta in marble for the chapel of the Virgin
in S. Peter's. To this work Michael Angelo bore such love that
he inscribed his name on the girdle of our Lady, a thing he never
did again. For one day Michael Angelo, entering the place where
it stood, found a number of Lombard strangers there. And as they
were giving it great praise, one of them asked another who had
made it, and he answered, "Our hunchback from Milan."
Michael Angelo remained silent, but it seemed strange to him that
his labours should be attributed to another. And one night he
shut himself into the place with a light and cut his name upon
it.
At this time some of his friends wrote to him advising him to
come back to Florence, because there was some talk of having the
great piece of marble which was lying spoilt made into a statue,
and Piero Soderini the Gonfaloniere had talked of giving it to
Lionardo da Vinci, and now was preparing to give it to Andrea
Contucci. Michael Angelo had desired to have it many years before;
so he returned to Florence, and tried for it. It was a piece of
marble nine braccia in size, out of which a Master Simone da Fiesole
had begun to carve a giant, and had managed it so badly that the
heads of the works at S. Maria del Fiore, without caring to have
it finished, had abandoned it, and it had been lying thus for
many years. Michael Angelo measured it again, and examined it
to see if a reasonable figure could be cut out of the rock by
accommodating its attitude to the maimed condition in which Master
Simone had left it, and resolved to make request for it from the
architects and Soderini. They, considering it a useless thing,
granted it to him, thinking that anything would be better than
the state it was in. Then Michael Angelo made a model in wax of
a young David with a sling in his hand, and began to work in S.
Maria del Fiore, setting up a hoarding round the marble, and working
at it continually without any seeing it until he had brought it
to perfection. Master Simone had so spoilt the marble that in
some places there was not enough left for Michael Angelo's purpose,
and certainly it was a miracle restoring thus one that was
dead.
When Piero Soderini saw it, it pleased him much, but he said to
Michael Angelo, who was engaged in retouching it in certain places,
that he thought the nose was too thick. Michael Angelo, perceiving
that the Gonfaloniere was below the statue, and could not see
it truly, to satisfy him went up the scaffold, taki4g a chisel
in his left hand with a little marble dust, and began to work
with his chisel, letting a little dust fall now and then, but
not touching the nose. Then looking down to the Gonfaloniere,
who was watching, he said, "Look at it now." "It
pleases me better," said the Gonfaloniere; "you have
given it life." So Michael Angelo came down pitying those
who make a show of understanding matters about which they really
know nothing. Michael Angelo received from Soderini for the statue
four hundred crowns, and it was set up in the year 1504.
Lionardo da Vinci was now occupied in painting the great Council
Hall, and Pietro Soderini assigned one part of it to Michael Angelo,
who chose for his subject the war of Pisa. He took a room
in the dyers' hospital at S. Onofrio, and began a great cartoon,
which he would not allow any one to see. He covered it with nude
figures of the soldiers bathing in the river Arno and suddenly
called to arms, the enemy making an assault. Some are coming out
of the water, others are hastening to arm themselves and gc to
the help of their companions, buckling on their cuirasses and
their other arms. When it was shown, many said that such a thing
had never been seen before, either from his hand or another's.
And indeed this must be true, for all who have studied this cartoon
have become men excellent in the art. And because it became thus
a study for artists it was carried to the Medici palace, and was
left in too great security in the hands of the artists. For during
the sickness of Duke Giuliano, when no one was thinking of the
matter, it was torn and cut into many pieces, and dispersed in
many places, some pieces being to be seen now in Mantua.
Michael Angelo's fame was grown so great that in the year 1503,
when he was twentynine years of age, Julius II. sent for him to
come and build his tomb. Therefore he proceeded to Rome, and after
many months he completed a design which in beauty, ornament, and
the number of the statues surpassed every ancient or imperial
sepulchre. Thereupan Pope Julius enlarged his projects, and resolved
to rebuild the church of S. Peter's that it might contain it.
So Michael Angelo set to work and went to Carrara with two of
his youths to obtain the marble, and spent in those mountains
eight months. Having chosen a quantity of marble, he caused it
to be carried to the sea and thence to Rome, where it filled half
the Piazza of S. Peter's, and the part round S. Caterina, and
the space between the church and the corridor that goes to the
castle, where Michael Angelo had made a room in which to work
at the statues and the rest of the tomb. And that the'Pope might
easily come and see the work, he had a drawbridge made from the
corridor to the room Being treated with such familiarity he became
exposed to great persecution, and much envy was aroused among
the artists.
Of this work Michael Angelo finished four statues and began eight
more. Some of the marble was carried to Florence, where he worked
for some time to escape the bad air of Rome. In Rome he made the
two Captives, and the Moses, which no other modern work will ever
equal in beauty. Meanwhile the rest of the marble, which had been
left at Carrara, arrived, and was carried to the Piazza of S.
Peter's, and it being necessary to pay those who had brought it,
Michael Angelo went as usual to the Pope, but finding that his
Holiness was occupied with important business concerning the affairs
of Bologna, he returned home and paid for the marble himself.
He returned another day to speak of it to the Pope, but found
difficulty in obtaining admission, one of the lacqueys bidding
him have patience, for he had orders not to let him in. A bishop
said to the lacquey "Perhaps you do not know this man;"
but he answered, "I know him too well, but I am here to do
what my superiors and the Pope command me." This displeased
Michael Angelo, and thinking it treatment contrary to what he
had before experienced, he replied in anger to the Pope's lacquey,
bidding him say, when his Holiness asked for him, that he had
gone elsewhere. He returned home and set off in haste at two o'clock
of the night, leaving two servants with orders to sell all the
things in the house to the Jews, and to follow him to Florence.
He journeyed on till he reached Poggibonsi, a place in the Florentine
district. It was not long before five couriers arrived with letters
from the Pope to bring him back; but he would listen neither
to their prayers nor to the letters, which commanded him to return
to Rome under pain of disgrace. At last the couriers' entreaties
induced him to write a few words to his Holiness, saying that
he must pardon him for not returning to his presence since he
had been driven away, that his faithful service had not deserved
such treatment, and therefore his Holiness must seek elsewhere
for one to serve him. And so coming to Florence he set himself
to finish the cartoon for the Great Hall, which Pier Soderini
greatly desired he should execute. In the meantime there came
three briefs to the Signory, commanding them to send back Michael
Angelo to Rome.
He, perceiving the fury of the Pope, meditated going to Constantinople
to serve the Turk, who desired to have him to construct a bridge
from Constantinople to Pera. At last Pier Soderini persuaded him
against his will to go back to the Pope, sending him back as a
public person, with the title of ambassador of the city, and recommending
him to his brother, Cardinal Soderini So he came to Bologna, whither
his Holiness had come from Rome.
Some tell the story of his departure from Rome in another manner,
and say that the Pope was angry with Michael Angelo because
he would not let him see his work, and that he came more than
once disguised when Michael Angelo was not at home, and corrupted
his lads with money to let him in to see the chapel of Sixtus
his uncle, which he was painting, and that once Michael
Angelo, doubting his boys, hid himself and let something fall
upon the Pope as he entered the chapel, which made him rush out
in a fury.
However it was, as soon as he reached Bologna before he had taken
off his boots, he was conduct~d by the Pope's servant to his Holiness
accompanied by a bishop from Cardinal Soderini the cardinal himself
being ill. Arrived in the Pope's presence, Michael Angelo knelt
down and his Holiness looked at him severely as if in anger, saying,
"Instead of coming to us, you have waited for us to come
to you," meaning that Bologna was nearer to Florence than
Rome. Michael Angelo humbly begged pardon, saying he had not done
it to offend, but that he could not endure to be driven away in
such a manner. And the bishop who had brought him in began to
excuse him, saying that such men were ignorant, except in matters
of art, and were not like other men. Upon this the Pope grew angry,
and with a stick he had in his hand he struck the bishop, saying,
"It is you who are ignorant and speak evil of him, which
we did not do." So the bishop was driven out from his presence
by the lacquey, and the Pope, having vented his anger upon him,
blessed Michael Angelo, and showered upon him gifts and promises.
He was employed to make a bronze statue of Pope Julius, five braccia
high, for the city of Bologna. The attitude is most beautiful,
having great dignity, and in the drapery there is richness and
magnificence, and in the countenance vivacity and force, promptness
and terrible majesty. It was set up in a niche over the gate of
S. Petronio. It is said that while Michael Angelo was working
upon it, Francia the goldsmith and also a most excellent painter
came to see it, having heard much of him and his works, and never
having seen any of them. Gazing upon the work with astonishment,
he was asked by Michael Angelo what he thought of it, and he answered
that it was a very beautiful cast and a fine material. Michael
Angelo, thinking that he was praising the bronze rather than the
artist, said, " I am as much obliged to Pope Julius who gave
it to me as you are to the men from whom you get your colours
for painting," adding before some gentlemen that he was a
fool.
Michael Angelo finished this statue in clay before the Pope left
Bologna for Rome, and his Holiness went to see it. He asked what
was to be in his left hand, and whether the right hand, which
was raised with so haughty a gesture, was blessing or cursing.
Michael Angelo replied that he was advising the people of Bologna
to conduct themselves well, and prayed him to decide if he should
put a book in his left hand, but he answered, "Put a sword,
for I am not a man of letters." This statue was afterwards
destroyed by Bentivogli, and the bronze sold to Duke Alphonso
of Ferrara, who made it into a cannon called the Julia, but the
head is still preserved.
When the Pope was returned to Rome, Bramante (a friend of Raffaello's,
and therefore little a friend to Michael Angelo) tried to turn
his mind from finishing his sepulchre, saying it was an evil augury
and seemed like hastening his death to make his own grave; and
he persuaded him that on Michael Angelo's return he should set
him to paint the ceiling of the chapel in the palace, in memory
of Sixtus his uncle. For Bramante and Michael Angelo's other rivals
thought to draw him away from sculpture, in which they saw he
was perfect, and make him produce less worthy works, not to be
compared with Raffaello's, knowing he had had no experience in
painting in fresco. So when he was returned and proposed to the
Pope to finish his tomb, he desired him instead to paint the ceiling
of the chapel. Michael Angelo sought in every way to shift the
load off his back, proposing Raffaello instead. But the more he
excused himself, the more impetuous the Pope became. So seeing
that his Holiness persevered, he resolved to do it, and the Pope
ordered Bramante to make the scaffold. He made it hanging by ropes
passed through holes in the ceiling, which when Michael Angelo
saw, he asked Bramante how the holes were to be stopped up when
the painting was finished. He answered, "We must think of
that afterwards, but there is no other way." So Michael Angelo
knew that either Bramante was worth little or that he was no friend
to him, and he went to the Pope and told him the scaffolding would
not do. So he told him to do it his own way. He therefore ordered
it to be made on supports, not touching the wall, and he gave
to a poor carpenter who made it so many of the useless ropes that
by the sale of them he obtained a dowry for one of his daughters.
The Pope having resolved that the pictures which had been painted
there by the masters before him in the time of Sixtus should be
destroyed, Michael Angelo was forced by the greatness of the undertaking
to ask aid, and sent to Florence for men. And having begun and
finished the cartoons, and never having coloured before in fresco,
he brought from Florence some of his friends to aid hlm, and that
he might see their method of working in freseo, among whom were
Granacci, Bugiar~ini, and others. So he set them to begin the
work, but their efforts being far from satisfying him, one morning
he resolved to destroy all that they had done, and shutting himself
up in the chapel, would not open the door for them, nor show himself
to them at home. They therefore, after this had gone on some time,
were offended, and took leave and went back to Florence with shame.
Then Michael Angelo prepared to do the whole work himself, and
brought it to a successful termination with great labour and study,
nor would he let any one see it, by which means the desire grew
strong in all. When the half was done and uncovered, all Rome
went to see it, the Pope the first; and Raffaello da Urbino, who
was excellent in imitating, having seen it, changed his manner.
Then Bramante sought to persuade the Pope to give the other half
to Raffaello. But the Pope, seeing every day the powers of Michael
Angelo, judged that he should finish the other half. So he brought
it to an end in twenty months by himself without even the help
of a man to grind the colours. Michael Angelo complained that
from the haste of the Pope he could not finish it as he would,
for the Pope constantly asked him when it would be finished. Once
he answered, "It will be finished when I have satisfied myself."
"But we will," replied the Popes "that you should
satisfy us in our desire to have it quickly." And he added
that if it was not done soon he would have him thrown from his
scaffold. The Pope used often to tell Michael Angelo to make the
chapel rich in colour and gold, but Michael Angelo would answer
the Holy Father, "In those times men did not wear gold, and
those whom I am painting were never very rich, but holy men despising
riches."
The work was done in great discomfort from constantly looking
up, and it so injured his sight that he could only read or look
at drawings in the same position, an effect which lasted many
months. But in the ardour of labour he felt no fatigue and cared
for no discomfort. The work has been, indeed, a light of our art,
illuminating the world which had been so many centuries in darkness.
Oh, truly happy age, and oh, blessed artists, who at such a fountain
can purge away the dark films from your eyes. Give thanks to Heaven,
and imitate Michael Angelo in all things.
So when it was uncovered every one from every part ran to see
it, and gazed in silent astonishment; and the Pope, inspired
by it and encouraged to greater undertakings, rewarded him libera.lly
with money and rich gifts. The great favours that the Pope showed
him proved that he recognised his talents, and if sometimes he
did him an injury, he healed it with gifts and signal favours;
as when, for instance, Michael Angelo once asked leave of him
to go to work in S. Giovanni in Florence, and requested money
for the purpose, and he said, "Well, and this chapel, when
will it be finished?" "When I can, Holy Father."
The Pope having a stick in his hand struck Michael Angelo, saying,
"When I can! when I can! I will make you finish it!"
Michael Angelo therefore returned to his house and prepared
to leave for Florence, but the Pope in haste sent his chamberlain
after him with five hundred crowns to pacify him, and ordered
him to make his excuses and say it was all done in love and kindness.
And he, seeing it was the nature of the Pope and really loving
him, took it in good part and laughed at it, finding also that
it turned to his profit, for the Pope would do anything to keep
him his friend.
But when the chapel was finished, and before the Pope died, he
gave orders to Cardinal Santiquattro and Cardinal Aginense, his
nephew, that in the case of his death they were to complete his
monument, but after a less magnificent design than the first.
So MichaeJ Angelo returned again to his work upon the tomb, hoping
to carry it out to the end without hindrance, but it was to him
the cause of more annoyance and trouble than anything else he
did in his life. At that time befell the death of Julius, and
the whole plan was abandoned upon the creation of Pope Leo X For
he having a mind and talents no less splendid than those of Julius,
desired to leave in his native city, of which he was the first
pontiff, such a marvellous work in memory of himself and of the
divine artist, his fellowcitizen, as a great prince like himself
was able to produce. So he gave orders that the facade of S. Lorenzo
in Florence, a church built by the house of Medici, should be
erected, and he commanded that the sepulchre of Julius should
be abandoned that Michael Angelo might prepare plans and designs
for this work. Michael Angelo made all the resistance he could,
alleging that he was bound to Santiquattro and Aginense for the
tomb. But the Pope replied that he was not to think about that,
for he had already considered that, and had procured their consent
to his departure. So the matter was settled to the displeasure
both of the cardinals and Michael Angelo, and he departed weeping.
He consumed many years in procuring marble, though in the meantime
he made models in wax and other things for the work; but the matter
was so delayed that the money set apart for it was consumed in
the war of Lombardy, and the work was left unfinished at the death
of Leo.
At this time, in the year 1525, Giorgio Vasari was brought as
a boy to Florence by the Cardinal of Cortona and put with Michael
Angelo to learn the art. But he being called by Pope Clement VII
to Rome, determined that Vasari should go to Andrea del Sarto,
and went himself to Andrea's workshop to recommend him
to his care.
When Clement VII was made pope he sent for Michael Angelo, and
he agreed with the Pope to finish the sacristy and library of
S. Lorenzo, and to make four tombs for the bodies of the fathers
of the two Popes, Lorenzo and Giuliano, his brother, and for Giuliano,
brothcr of Leo, and Duke Lorenzo, his nephew. At this time befell
the sack of Rome and the banishment of the Medici from Florence.
Those who governed the city desired to refortify it, and made
Michael Angelo commissarygeneral of all the fortifications. He
surrounded the hill of S. Miniato with bastions and fortified
the city in many places, and he was sent to Ferrara to view the
fortifications of Duke Alfonso, who received him with much courtesy,
and prayed him at his leisure to make some work of art for him.
Returning to Florence, and engaged again upon the fortifications,
he nevertheless found time both to make a painting of Leda in
tempera for the duke, and to work upon the statues for the monument
in S. Lorenzo. Of this monument, partly finished, there are seven
statues. The first is Our Lady, and though it is not finished,
the excellence of the work may be seen. Then there are the four
statues of Night and Day, Dawn and Twilight, most beautiful, and
sufficient of themselves, if art were lost, to restore it to light.
The other statues are the two armed captains, the one the pensive
Duke Lorenzo, and the other the proud Duke Giuliano.
Meanwhile the siege of Florence began, and the enemy closing round
the city, and the hope of aid failing, Michael Angelo determined
to leave Florence and go to Venice. So he departed secretly without
any one knowing of it, taking with him Antonio Mini his pupil,
and his faithful friend Piloto the goldsmith, wearing each one
their money in their quilted doublets. And they came to
Ferrara and rested there. And it happened because of the war that
Duke Alfonso had given orders that the names of those who were
at the inns and of all strangers should be brought him every day.
So it came about that Michael Angelo's coming was made known to
the duke. And he sent some of the chief men of his court to bring
him to the palace, with his horses and all he had, and give him
good lodging. So Michael Angelo, finding himself in the power
of another, was forced to obey and went to the duke. And the duke
received him with great honour, and making him rich gifts, desired
him to tarry in Ferrara. But he would not remain, though the duke,
praying him not to depart while the war lasted, offered him all
in his power. Then Michael Angelo, not willing to be outdone in
courtesy, thanked him much, and turning to his two companions,
said that he had brought to Ferrara twelve thousand crowns, and
that they were quite at his service.
And the duke took him through his palace and showed him all his
treasures, especially his portrait by the hand of Titian, which
Michael Angelo commended much; but he would not stop at the palace,
and returned to the inn, and the host where he lodged received
from the duke an infinite number of things with which to do him
honour, and command to take nothing from him for his lodging.
He proceeded thence to Venice, but many desiring to make his acquaintance,
for which he had no wish, he departed from the Giudecca where
he had lodged. It is said that he made a design for the bridge
of the Rialto at the request of the Doge Gritti, a design most
rare for invention and ornament.
But Michael Angelo was recalled by his native city, and earnestly
implored not to abandon her, and they sent him a safe conduct.
At last, overcome by his love for her, he returned, not without
peril of his life. He restored the tower of S. Miniato, which
did much injury to the enemy, so they battered it with great cannon,
and would have overthrown it, but Michael Angelo defended it,
hanging bales of wool and mattresses to shield it.
When the peace was made, Baccio Valore was commissioned by the
Pope to seize some of the ringleaders, and they sought for Michael
Angelo, but he had fled secretly to the house of a friend, where
he lay hid many days. When his anger was passed, Pope Clement
remembered his great worth, and bade them seek him, ordering them
to say nothing to him, but that he should have his usual provision
and should go on with his work at S. Lorenzo.
Then Duke Alfonso of Ferrara, having heard that he had
completed a rare piece of work for him, sent one of his gentlemen
to him that he might not lose such a jewel, and he came to Florence
and presented his letters of credence. Then Michael Angelo showed
him the Leda, and Castor and Pollux coming out of the eggbut the
messenger of the duke thought he ought to have produced some great
work, not understanding the skill and excellence of the thing,
and he said to Michael Angelo, "Oh, this is a little thing."
Then Michael Angelo asked him what was his trade, for he knew
that none are such good judges of a thing as those who have some
skill in it themselves. He replied contemptuously, "I am
a merchant," thinking that Michael Angelo did not know he
was a gentleman; and so, being rather offended by the question,
he expressed some contempt for the industry of the Florentines.
Michael Angelo, who perfectly understood his meaning, answered,
" You have shown yourself a bad merchant this time, and to
your master's damage; take yourself off." Afterwards, Anton
Mini, his pupil, having twc sisters about to be married, asked
him for the picture, and he gave it to him willingly, together
with the greater part of his drawings and cartoons, and also two
chests of models. And when Mini went into France he took them
with him there, and the Leda he sold to King Francis, but the
cartoons and drawings were lost, for he died in a short time and
they were stolen.
Afterwards the Pope desired Michael Angelo to come to him in Rome
and paint the walls of the Sistine Chapel. Clement wished that
he should paint the Last Judgment and Lucifer driven out of heaven
for his pride, for which many years before he had made sketches
and designs. However, in 1533 followed the death of Pope Clement,
and Michael Angelo again thought himself free to finish the tomb
of Julius II But when Paul III was made pope, it was not long
before he sent for him, and desired him to come into his service.
Then Michael Angelo refused, saying he was bound by contract to
the Duke of Urbino to finish the tomb of Julius II. But the Pope
in anger cried out, "I have desired this for thirty years,
and now that I am Pope I will not give it up. I will destroy the
contract, and am determined that you shall serve me." Michael
Angelo thought of departing from Rome, but fearing the greatness
of the Pope, and seeing him so old, thought to satisfy him with
words. And the Pope came one clay to his house with ten cardinals,
and desired to see all the statues for the tomb of Julius, and
they appeared to him miraculous, particularly the Moses; and the
Cardinal of Mantua said this figure alone was enough to do honour
to Pope Julius. And when he saw the cartoons and drawings for
the chapel, the Pope urged him again to come into his service,
promising to order matters so that the Duke of Urbino should be
contented with three statues the others being made from his designs
by good masters. The new contract, therefore, being confirmed
by the duke, the work was completed and set up, a most excellent
work, but very far from the first design; and Michael Angelo
since he could do no other, resolved to serve Pope Paul, who desired
him to carry out the commands of Clement without altering anything.
When Michael Angelo had completed about three quarters of the
work, Pope Paul went to see it, and Messer Biagio da Cesena, the
master of the ceremonies, was with him, and when he was asked
what he thought of it, he answered that he thought it not right
to have so many naked figures in the Pope's chapel. This displeased
Michael Angelo, and to revenge himself, as soon as he was departed,
he painted him in the character of Minos with a great serpent
twisted round his legs. Nor did Messer Biagio's entreaties either
to the Pope or to Michael Angelo himself, avail to persuade him
to take it away. At this time it happened that the master fell
from the scaffold, from no little height, and hurt one of his
legs, but would not be doctored for it. Thereupon Master Baccio
Rontini, the Florentine, his friend and a clever doctor, feeling
pity for him, went one day and knocked at his door, and receiving
no answer, made his way to the room of Michael Angelo, who had
been given over, and would not leave him until he was cured. When
he was healed, returning to his painting, he worked at it continually,
until in a few months it was brought to an end, and the words
of Dante verified, "The dead seem dead and the living living."
And when this Last Judgment was uncovered, he was seen to have
vanquished not only all the painters who had worked there before,
but even to have surpassed his own work on the ceiling. He laboured
at this work eight years, and uncovered it in the year 1541, on
Christmas Day, I think, to the marvel of all Rome, or rather all
the world; and 1 who went that year to Rome was astounded.
Afterwards he painted for Pope Paul the Conversion of S. Paul
and the Crucifixion of S. PeterThese were the last pictures he
painted, at the age of seventyfive, and with great fatigue, as
he told me; for painting, and especially working in fresco, is
not an art for old men. But his spirit could not remain without
doing something, and since he could not paint, he set to work
upon a piece of marble, to bring out of it four figures larger
than life, for his amusement and pastime, and as he said, because
working with the hammer kept him healthy in body. It represented
the dead Christ, and was left unfinished, although he had intended
it to be placed over his grave.
It happened in 1546 that Antonio de Sangallo died, and one being
wanted in his place to superintend the building of S. Peter's,
his Holiness sent for Michael Angelo and desired to put him in
the office, but he refused, saying that architecture was not his
proper art. Finally, entreaties availing nothing, the Pope commanded
him to accept it, and so, to his great displeasure and against
his will, he was obliged to enter upon this office. Then one day
going to S. Peter's to see the model of wood which Sangallo had
made, he found the whole Sangallo party there. They coming up
to him said they were glad that the charge of the work was to
be his, adding that the model was a field which would never fail
to provide pasture. "You say the truth," answered Michael
Angelo, meaning to infer, as he told a friend, " for sheep
and oxen, who do not understand art." And he used to say
publicly that Sangallo held more to the German manner than to
the good antique, and besides that fifty years' labour might be
spared and 300,000 crowns' expense, and yet the building might
be carried out with more grandeur and majesty. And he showed what
he meant in a model which made every one acknowledge his words
to be true. This model cost him twentyfive crowns, and was made
in fifteen days. Sangallo's model cost more than four thousand,
it is said, and took many years to make, for he seemed to think
that this building was a way of making money, to be carried on
with no intention of its being finished. This seemed to Michael
Angelo dishonest, and when the Pope was urging him to become the
architect, he said one day openly to all those connected with
the building, that they had better do everything to prevent him
having the care of it, for he would have none of them in the building;
but these words, as may be supposed, did him much harm, and made
him many enemies, who were always seeking to hinder him. But at
last the Pope issued his commands, and created him the head of
the building with all authority. Then Michael Angelo, seeing the
Pope's trust in him, desired that it should be put into the agreement
that he served for the love of God and without any reward. But
when a new Pope was made, the set that was opposed to him in Rome
began again to trouble him; therefore the Duke Cosimo desired
that he should leave Rome and return to Florence, but he, being
sick and infirm, could not travel. At that time Paul IV thought
to have the Last Judgment amended which when Michael Angelo heard
he bade them tell the Pope that this was a little matter, and
might easily be amended; let him amend the world, and then the
pictures would soon amend themselves.
The same year befell the death of Urbino his servant, or rather,
to speak more truly, his companion. He had come to him in Florence
after the siege in 1530, and during twentysix years served
him with such faithfulness that Michael Angelo made him rich,
and loved him so much that when he was ill he nursed him and lay
all night in his clothes to watch him. After he was dead, Vasari
wrote to him to comfort him, and he replied in these words:-
"MY DEAR MESSER GIORCIO,-It is hard for me to write;
nevertheless, in reply to your letter, I will say something. You
know that Urbino is dead, to my great loss and infinite grief,
but in the great mercy of God. The mercy is that dying he has
taught me how to die, not in sorrow, but with desire of death.
I have had him twentysix years, and have found him most rare and
faithful; and now that I had made him rich, and hoped that he
would have been the support of my old age, he has left me, and
nothing remains but the hope of meeting him again in Paradise.
And of this God gave me promise in the happy death he died, for
he regretted, far more than death, leaving me in this treacherous
world with so many infirmities, although the chief part of me
is gone with him, and nothing remains but infinite misery."
Until this time Michael Angelo worked almost every day at that
stone of which we have spoken before, with the four figures, but
now he broke it, either because the stone was hard or because
his judgment was now so ripe that nothing he did contented him.
His finished statues were chiefly made in his youth; most of the
others were left unfinished, for if he discovered a mistake, however
small, he gave up the work and applied himself to another piece
of marble. He often said this was the reason why he had finished
so few statues and pictures. This Pieta, broken as it was, he
gave to Francesco Bandini. Tiberio Calcagni, the Florentine sculptor,
had become a great friend of Michael Angelo's through Bandini,
and being one day in Michael Angelo's house, and seeing this Pieta
broken, he asked him why he had broken it, and spoilt so much
marvellous work. He answered it was because of his servant Urbino's
importunity, who was always urging him to finish it, and besides
that, among other things, he had broken a piece off the Virgin's
arm, and before that he had taken a dislike to it, having many
misfortunes because of a crack there was in it; so at last, losing
patience, he had broken it, and would have destroyed it altogether
if his servant Antonio had not begged him to give it him as it
was. Then Tiberio spoke to Bandini about it, for Bandini desired
to have a work of Michael Angelo's, and he prayed Michael Angelo
to allow Tiberio to finish it for him, promising that Antonio
should have two hundred crowns of gold, and he being content,
made them a present of it. So Tiberio took it away and joined
it together, but it was left unfinished at his death. However,
it was necessary for Michael Angelo to get another piece of marble,
that he might do a little carving every day.
The architect Pirro Ligorio had entered the service of Paul IV,
and was the cause of renewed vexation to Michael Angelo,
for he went about everywhere saying that he was becoming childish.
Indignant at this treatment, Michael Angelo would willingly have
returned to Florence, and Giorgio urged him to do so. But he felt
he was getting old, having already reached the age of eightyone,
and he wrote to Vasari saying he knew he was at the end of his
life, as it were in the twentyfourth hour, and that no thought
arose in his mind on which death was not carved. He sent also
a sonnet, by which it may be seen that his mind was turning more
and more towards God, and away from the cares of his art. Duke
Cosimo also commanded Vasari to encourage him to return to his
native place; but though his will was ready, his infirmity of
body kept him in Rome.
Many of his friends, seeing that the work at S. Peter's proceeded
but slowly, urged him at least to leave a model behind him. He
was for many months undecided about it, but at last he began,
and little by little made a small clay model, from which, with
the help of his plans and designs, Giovanni Franzese made a larger
one of wood.
When Pius V became pope, he showed Michael Angelo much favour,
and employed him in many works, particularly in making the design
of a monument for the Marquis Marignano, his brother. The work
was entrusted by his Holiness to Lione Lioni, a great friend of
Michael Angelo's, and about the same time Lione pourtrayed Michael
Angelo on a medallion, putting at his wish on the reverse a blind
man led by a dog, with the words, "Docebo iniquos vias tuas,
et impii ad te convertentur," and because the thing pleased
him much, Michael Angelo gave him a model in wax of Hercules and
Antaus. There are only two painted portraits of Michael Angelo,
the one by Bugiardini and the other by Jacopo del Conte, besides
one in bronze by Daniello Ricciarelli, and this one of Lione's,
of which there have been so many copies made that I have seen
a great number in Italy and elsewhere.
About a year before his death, Vasari, seeing that Michael Angelo
was much shaken, prevailed upon the Pope to give orders concerning
the care of him, and concerning his drawings and other things,
in case anything should befall him. His nephew Lionardo desired
to come to Rome that Lent, as if foreboding that Michael Angelo
was near his end, and when he fell sick of a slow fever, he wrote
for him to come. But the sickness increasing, in the presence
of his physician and other friends, in perfect consciousness,
he made his will in three words, leaving his soul in the hands
of God, his body to the earth, and his goods to his nearest relations,
charging his friends when passing out of this life to remember
the sufferings of Jesus Christ; and so, on the seventeenth day
of February, at twentythree o'clock of the year 1563, according
to the Florentine style, which after the Roman would be 1564,
he expired to go to a better Jife.
Michael Angelo's imagination was so perfect that, not being able
to express with his hands his great and terrible conceptions,
he often abandoned his works and destroyed many of them. I know
that a little before his death he burnt a great number of drawings
and sketches. It should appear strange to none that Michael Angelo
delighted in solitude, being as it were in love with art. Nevertheless
he held dear the friendship of many great and learned persons,
among whom were many cardinals and bishops. The great Cardinal
Ippolito de' Medici loved him much, and once, having heard that
Michael Angelo was greatly pleased with a Turkish horse of his,
he sent it to him as a gift with ten mules' burden of hay and
a servant to keep it. He loved the society of artists, and held
intercourse with them; and those who say he would not teach are
wrong, for he was ready to give counsel to any one who asked.
But he was unfortunate with those pupils who lived in his house;
for Piero Urbano was a man of talent, but would never do anything
to tire himself; Antonio Mini would have done anything, but he
had not a brain capable of much, and when the wax is hard you
cannot get a good impression; Ascanio dalla Ripa Transone worked
very hard, but nothing came of it: he spent years over a picture
of which Michael Angelo had given him the drawing, but at last
all the great expectations that had been formed of him went off
into smoke, and I remember Michael Angelo had so much compassion
for his difficulty in painting that he helped him with his own
hand.
He has often said to me that he would have written something for
the help of artists, but feared not being able to express in writing
what he wished. But he delighted much in reading the poets, particularly
Dante and Petrarca, and in making madrigals and sonnets. And he
sent much, both in rhyme and prose, to the illustrious Marchioness
of Pescara, of whose virtues he was greatly enamoured, and she
of his. Many times she went from Viterbo to Rome to visit him,
and Michael Angelo made many things for her. He delighted much
in the sacred scriptures, like the good Christian he was, and
held in veneration the works of Fr. Girolamo Savonarola, having
heard him preach. In his manner of life he was most abstemious,
being content when young with a little bread and wine while at
his work, and until he had finished the Last Judgment he always
waited for refreshment till the evening, when he had done his
work. Though rich he lived poorly, never taking presents from
any one. He took little sleep, but often at night he would rise
to work, having made himself a paper cap, in the middle of which
he could fix his candle, so that he could have the use of his
hands. Vasari, who often saw this cap, noticed that he did not
use wax candles, but candles made of goats' tallow, and so he
sent him four bundles, which would be 40 lbs. His servant took
them to him in the evening, and when Michael Angelo refused to
take them, he answered, "Sir, carrying them here has almost
broken my arms, and I will not carry them back again; but there
is some thick mud before your door in which they will stand straight
enough, and I will set light to them all." Upon which Michael
Angelo answered, "Put them down here, then, for I will not
have you playing tricks before my door." He told me that
often in his youth he had slept in his clothes, too worn out with
his labours to undress himself. Some have accused him of being
avaricious, but they are mistaken, for he freely gave away his
drawings and models and pictures, for which he might have obtained
thousands of crowns. And then, as for the money earned by the
sweat of his brow, bv his own study and labour-can any one be
cailed avaricious who remembered so many poor as he did, and secretly
provided for the marriage of many girls, and enriched his servant
Urbino? He had served him long, and once Michael Angelo asked
him, "If I die, what will you do?" He answered, "I
shall serve another." "Oh, poor fellow!" answered
Michael Angelo, "I will mend your poverty." And he gave
him at once two thousand crowns, a gift for a Caesar or a great
pontiff.
He had a most tenacious memory; he could remember and make use
of the works of others when he had only once seen them; while
he never repeated anything of his own, because he remembered all
he had done. In his youth, being one evening with some painters,
his friends, it was proposed that they should try who could make
a figure without any drawing in it, like those things that ignorant
fellows draw on the walls, and the one that could make the best
should have a supper given him. He remembered having seen one
of these rude drawings on a wall, and drew it as if he had it
in front of him, and so surpassed all the other painters-a difficult
thing for a man to do who had such knowledge of drawing.
He felt very strongly against those who had done him an injury,
but he never had recourse to vengeance. His conversation was full
of wisdom and gravity, mixed with clever or humorous sayings.
Many of these have been noted down, and I will give some. A friend
of his was once talking to him about death, and saying that he
must dread it very much because he was so continually labouring
in his art; but he answered, "All that was nothing, and if
life pleased us, death was a work from the hand of the same Master,
and ought not to displease us." A citizen found him once
at Orsanmichele in Florence, looking at the statue of S. Mark
by Donatello, and asked him what he thought of it. He answered
that he had never seen a more honest face, and that if S. Mark
was like that, we might believe all that he had written. A painter
had painted a picture in which the best thing was an ox, and some
one asked why it was that the painter had made the ox more lifelike
than anything else? Michael Angelo answered, "Every painter
can pourtray himself well."
He took pleasure in certain men like Il Menighella, a common painter,
who would come to him and get him to make a drawing for a S. Rocco
or a S. Antonio, which he was to paint for some peasant. And Michael
Angelo, who could hardly be persuaded to work for kings, would
at once lay aside his work, and make simple designs suited to
Il Menighella's wishes. He was also attached tc, Topolino, a stonecutter,
who fancied hin1self a sculptor of worth. He resided for many
years in the mountains of Carrara for the purpose of sending marble
to Michael Angelo, and he never sent a boatload without three
or four roughly hewn figures of his own carving, which used to
make Michael Angelo die with laughing. After he came back from
Carrara he set himself to finish a Mercury which he had begun
in marble, and one day, when it was nearly completed, he asked
Michael Angelo to look at it and give him his opinion on it. "You
are a fool," said Michael Angelo, "to try to make figures.
Don't you see that this Mercury is the third part of a braccio
too short from the knee to the foot-that you have made him a lame
dwarf?" "Oh, that is nothing! If that is all, I will
soon remedy that." Michael Angelo laughed again at his simplicity,
but when he was gone Topolino took a piece of marble, and having
cut Mercury under the knees, inserted the marble, joining it neatly,
and giving Mercury a pair of boots, the top of which hid the join.
When he showed his work to Michael Angelo he laughed again, but
marvelled that ignorant fellows like him, when driven by necessity,
should be capable of doing daring things which sculptors of real
worth would not think of.
Michael Angelo was a very healthy man, thin and muscular, although
as a boy he was sickly. When grown up he had also two serious
illnesses; nevertheless he could support any amount of fatigue.
He was of middle height, wide across the shoulders, but the rest
of his body in good proportion.
Certainly he was sent into the world to be an exarnple to men
of art, that they sholld learll from his life and from his works;
and I, who have to thank God for felicity rare among men of our
profession, count among my greatest blessings that I was born
in the time when Michael Angelo was alive, and was counted worthy
to have him for my master, and to be treated by him as a familiar
friend, as every one knows.
