Chapter 25

THE END

Michael Angelo's little circle of devoted friends in Rome were very anxious about him during the winter of 1563-64. Although almost fourscore years and ten he would still walk abroad in all weathers, and took none of the precautions usual for a man of his age. Tiberio Calcagni, writing on February 14 to Lionardo, says in the letter published by Daelli:(182) "Walking through Rome to-day I heard from many persons that Messer Michael Angelo was ill, so I went at once to visit him, and although it was raining I found him out of doors on foot. When I saw him I said that I did not think it right and seemly for him to be going about in such weather. 'What do you want?' he answered; 'I am ill, and cannot find rest anywhere!' The uncertainty of his speech, with the look and colour of his face, made me extremely uneasy about his life. The end may not be just now, but I fear greatly that it cannot be far off." The gray colour and the uneasiness of an old man who has suffered a slight stroke are evidently indicated here. During the next four days he lived in his arm-chair. On the 15th, Diomede Leoni wrote to Lionardo, with a letter enclosed, signed by Michael Angelo but written by Daniele da Volterra.(183) After exhorting Lionardo to come to Rome, but to run no risks by travelling too fast, he adds, "as you may be certain Messer Tomaso dei Cavalieri, Messer Daniele, and I will not fail during your absence in every possible service in your place. Besides, Antonio, the old and faithful servant of the master, will give a good account of himself under any circumstances. ... If the illness of the master be dangerous, which God forbid, you could not be in time to find him alive, even if you could make more haste than is possible. But to give you a little account of the state of Messere up to this hour, which is the third of the night,(184) I inform you that just now I left him quite composed and fully conscious, but oppressed with continual drowsiness. In order to shake it off, between twenty-two and twenty-three,(185) this very day he tried to mount his horse and go for a ride, as he was wont to do every evening in good weather, but the coolness of the season and the weakness of his head and legs prevented him, so he went back to his seat a little way from the fire. He greatly prefers this chair to his bed. We all pray God to preserve him unto us still for some years and that He may bring you here in safety, to whom I earnestly commend myself."

Two days later, on the 17th, Tiberio Calcagni wrote:(186) "This is only to beg you to hasten your coming as much as possible, even though the weather be bad. For your Messer Michael Angelo is going to leave us indeed, and he would have this one satisfaction the more."

Michael Angelo died a little before five o'clock on the afternoon of February 18, 1564. His physicians, Federigo Donati and Gherardo Fidelissimi, were with him at the last. Giorgio Vasari tells us "he made his will in three words, committing his soul into the hands of God, his body to the earth, and his goods to his nearest relatives, telling them when their hour came to remember the Passion of Jesus Christ."

The Florentine envoy sent a despatch to inform the Duke of the event, and he tells him the arrangements made as to the inventory of property and the disposal for safe-keeping of seven or eight thousand crowns found in a sealed box, opened in the presence of Messer Tomaso dei Cavalieri and Maestro Daniele da Volterra. The people of the house are to be examined whether anything has been carried away from it. This is not supposed to have been the case. "As far as drawings are concerned they say that he burned what he had by him before he died. What there is shall be handed over to his nephew when he comes, and this your Excellency can inform him." The list of works of art found in the house is very small. They were:

A blocked-out statue of Saint Peter.

An unfinished Christ with another figure.

A statuette of Christ with the Cross, like the Risen Christ in Santa Maria Sopra Minerva; and

Ten original drawings, one, a Pieta, belonged to Tommaso dei Cavalieri.

A little design for the facade of a palace.

A design for a window in the Church of Saint Peters.

An old plan of the Church of Saint Peter's, said to be after the model of San Gallo, on several pieces of paper glued together.

A drawing of three small figures.

Architectural drawings for a window and other details.

A large cartoon for a Pieta, with nine figures, unfinished.

Another large cartoon, with three large figures and two putti.

Another large cartoon, with one large figure only.

Another large cartoon, with the figures of our Lord Jesus Christ and the glorious Virgin Mary, His mother.

Another, the Epiphany.

This last drawing was presented to the notary who drew up the will, and is supposed to be the cartoon now in the British Museum; all the others went to Lionardo Buonarroti. Lionardo arrived three days after the death. The body was deposited upon a catafalque in the Church of the Santissimi Apostoli, where the funeral was celebrated by all the artists and Florentines in Rome. In fulfilment of the wish of Michael Angelo, repeated two days before his death, Lionardo made arrangements for the removal of his uncle's remains to Florence. But the Romans, who regarded him as a fellow citizen, resented this, and Lionardo was obliged to send the body away disguised as a bale of merchandise, addressed to the custom-house at Florence. Vasari wrote, on March 10, duly informing him that the packing-case had arrived, and had been left under seals until Lionardo's arrival at the custom-house. Notwithstanding this letter from Vasari, it appears that the body was removed, on March 11, to the oratory of the Assunta, beneath the Church of San Pietro Maggiore. Next day the painters, sculptors, and architects of the newly-founded Academy, of which Michael Angelo had been elected Principal after the Duke, met at the church, intending to bring the body secretly to Santa Croce. They had with them only an embroidered pall of velvet and a crucifix to place upon the bier. At night the elder men lighted torches and the younger strove with one another to bear the coffin. Meantime the curious Florentines found out that something was going forward, and a great concourse assembled as the news spread that Michael Angelo was being carried to Santa Croce, and huge crowds followed the humble procession, lighted by the flaring torches such as the Misericordia carry to this day. The vast church of Santa Croce was so crowded that the pall-bearers had difficulty in reaching the sacristy with their burden. When they at last got there, Don Vincenzo Borghini, Lieutenant of the Academy, "thinking he would do what was pleasing to many, and also, as he afterwards confessed, desiring to behold in death one whom he had never seen in life, or, at any rate, at such an age that he did not remember it, ordered the coffin to be opened. When this was done, whereas he and all of us present expected to find the corpse already corrupted and defaced, inasmuch as Michael Angelo had been dead twenty-five days and twenty-two in his coffin, lo! we beheld him instead perfect in all his parts and without any evil odour; indeed, we might have believed that he was resting in a sweet and very tranquil slumber. Not only were the features of his face exactly the same as when he was in life (except that the colour was a little like that of death), none of his limbs were injured or repulsive; the head and cheeks to the touch felt as though he had passed away only a few hours before. When the eagerness of the multitude who crowded round had calmed down a little, the coffin was deposited in the church, behind the altar of the Cavalcanti."

Those who would read of the gorgeous catafalque of stucco, woodwork, and painting erected in the Church of San Lorenzo by the Academy, may do so in the pages of Vasari, and in the book called "Esequie del Divino Michel Angelo Buonarroti, celebrate in Firenze dall' Academia, &c., Firenze, i Giunti, 1564," and Varchi's "Orazione Funerali," published by the same house at the same date. The great artist is dead: let us leave him to his rest in Santa Croce, the Westminster Abbey of his city and the church of his ward.

Vasari received from Lionardo Buonarroti the commission to design the tomb for Santa Croce. He did his best to get the Pieta now in the Duomo to serve as the principal part of the monument, asserting that it had been intended by Michael Angelo for his monument. "Besides, there is an old man in the group who represents the sculptor." This plan did not succeed, and the ugly monument now in existence was designed instead. The Duke supplied the marbles, and the figures were carved by Giovanni dall' Opera, Lorenzi and Valerio Cioli. The bust portrait in bronze was modelled by Battista Lorenzi. It was erected in 1570, and bears the inscription:

MICHAELI ANGELO BONAROTIO E VETVSTA SIMONIORVM FAMILIA SCVLPTORI. PICTORI. ET ARCHITECTO FAMA OMNIBVS NOTISSIMO. LEONARDVS PATRVO AMANTIS. ET DE SE OPTIME MERITO TRANSLATIS ROMA EIVS OSSIBVS. ATQVE IN HOC TEMPLO MAIOR SVOR SEPVLCRO CONDITIS. COHORTANTE SERENISS. COSMO MED. MAGNO HETRVRIAE DVCE. P. C. ANN. SAL. CIC. IC. LXX VIXIT ANN. LXXXVIII. M. XI. D. XV.

The Romans also erected a monument in the church where they had hoped to keep the bones of the artist who did more for their Immortal City than any man who ever lived. Over this monument is the following epitaph:

MICHAEL ANGELUS BONARROTIUS SCULPTOR PICTOR ARCHITECTUS MAXIMA ARTIFICUM FREQUENTIA IN HAC BASILICA SS. XII APOST. F.M.C. XI CAL. MART. A. MDLXIV ELATUS EST CLAM INDE FLORENTIAM TRANSLATUS ET IN TEMPLO S. CRUCIS EORUMD. F. V. ID. MART. EJUSD. A. CONDITUS TANTO NOMINI NULLUM PAR ELOGIUM

Michael Angelo formed no school, his love of excellence would not permit him to leave any inferior work behind him, as Raphael did in certain portions of the Stanze and Loggia of the Vatican. Michael Angelo's disposition was not so genial nor were his manners so universally pleasing as those of the gentle Raphael, so he was unable to keep a body of workmen together in good temper; the result is, we have no Sala of Constantine, or Palazzo del Te, to remind us of the passing of the master of a school. At the same time, to his few assistants and workmen Michael Angelo was as kind as father to son, when once he became accustomed to them about him. He gave help to various other artists, and it may be noted that all those he influenced became men devoted to high finish and the utmost perfection possible. Decadence in Italian art began long before his death; but the imitators of Michael Angelo are by far the best and most interesting figures of that unfortunate period. They, at least, have great intentions, and strive to attain a style of dignity and distinction, and do not grudge any labour that may help them to their ideals. Vasari tells us of some of these men and their works: "He loved his workmen and was on friendly terms with them. Among them were Jacopo Sansovino, Il Pontormo, Daniele da Volterra, and Giorgio Vasari Aretino, to whom he showed infinite kindness...." He goes on to say that "he was unfortunate in those who lived with him, since he chanced upon natures unfit to follow him. For Pietro Urbano, of Pistoja, his pupil, was a man of talent, but would never work hard. Antonio Mini had the will but not the brain, and hard wax takes a bad impression. Ascanio della Ripa Transone (Condivi) worked very hard, but nothing came of it either in work or in designs." Jacopo l'Indaco and Mineghella were boon companions of the master. A stone-cutter Domenico Fancelli nicknamed Topolino, Pilote the goldsmith, Giuliano Bugiardini the painter, were of this company. The melancholy Michael Angelo is said to have burst his sides with laughing at Mineghella's stupidity. The very proper Vasari describes the latter as "a mean and stupid painter of Valdarno, but a very amusing person; and Michael Angelo, who could with difficulty be made to work for kings, would leave everything to make simple drawings for this fellow, San Rocco, San Antonio, or San Francesco, to be coloured for one of the man's many peasant patrons; among others Michael Angelo made him a very beautiful model of a Christ on the Cross, made a mould from it, and Mineghella cast it in _papier-mache_ and went about selling it all over the country-side." It may be that the familiar and often-repeated Crucifix in common use is an adaptation or copy, far removed from this original; it has something of the style of Michael Angelo's later work, the figure is most beautifully disposed.

Sebastiano del Piombo lightened the old man's labour by his genial humour and jovial companionship; Sebastiano followed his teaching with great industry and skill, as all his later works show; such as the Scourging of Christ, in San Pietro in Montorio, and the Raising of Lazarus, in our own National Gallery: drawings by the hand of Michael Angelo still exist for the principal figures in both these pictures. There is a Pieta by Sebastiano, at Viterbo, evidently following the lines of one of Michael Angelo's religious drawings; it is so beautiful in the expression of its colour and the high finish of the nude, that we cannot but think that Michael Angelo's exacting eyes were peering over the shoulder of Sebastiano when he painted it.

Per ritornar la donde venne fora, L' immortal forma al tuo carcer terreno Venne com' angel di pieta si pieno Che sana ogn' intelletto, e'l mondo onora.

Questo sol m' arde, eqesto m' innamora; Non pur di fora il tuo volto sereno: Ch' amor non gia di cosa che vien meno Tien ferma speme, in cu' virtu dimora.

Ne altro avvien di cose altere e nuove In cui si preme la natura; e'l cielo E ch' a lor parto largo s' apparecchia.

Ne Dio, suo grazia, mi si mostra altrove, Piu che 'n alcun leggiadro e mortal velo; E quel sol amo, perche 'n quel si specchia.

APPENDIX

THREE DIALOGUES ON PAINTING COMPOSED BY FRANCISCO D'OLLANDA, A PORTUGUESE MINIATURE PAINTER WHO WAS IN ROME IN THE YEAR 1538. TRANSLATED FROM THE PORTUGUESE, WITH THE HELP OF MR. A.J. CLIFT, BY CHARLES HOLROYD. THE MANUSCRIPT WAS PUBLISHED FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THE RENASCENCA PORTUGUEZA NO. VII. PORTO, 1896

FIRST DIALOGUE

My intention in going to Italy was not to seek for advantage or honour, but to study. I was sent there by my King, and I had no other interest in view (such as having intercourse with the Pope or with the Cardinals of the Court; and this God knows and Rome knows, if I had wished to dwell there per-adventure I did not lack opportunities, both for myself and by the favour of the principal persons in the Pope's household), but all ideas of this kind were so subdued in me, that I did not even allow them to enter into my imagination; others I had, more noble and more to my taste, which had much more power over me than covetousness or expectation of benefits such as many people have who go to Rome. What alone was always present to me was how I, with my art, might serve the king our Lord, who had sent me there, communing always with myself how I could steal and convey away to Portugal the excellencies and beauties of Italy to please the King and the Infantas and the most serene Infante D. Luiz. I used to say to myself: What fortresses or foreign cities have I not yet in my book? What immortal buildings and what noble statues does this city still possess which I have not already stolen from it and carried away without carts or ships on thin paper? What painting, stucco, or grotesque has been discovered amongst these grottoes and antiquities of Rome, Puzol, and Baias, of which the most rare is not to be found in my sketch-books? Thus I beheld nothing either antique or modern in painting, sculpture or architecture of which I did not make some record of its best part, it appearing to me that these were the greatest benefits that I could carry away with me, more honourable and profitable to the service of my King and to my own taste. I do not think I have made a mistake (although some people tell me I have), for as these things alone were my care, my dispute and demand, no great Cardinal Fernes had to help me, nor had I a greater Dattario to obtain, in order to go one day to see D. Julio de Macedonia, a most famous illuminator, and another day Master Michael Angelo, now Baccio the noble sculptor; then Master Perino, or Bastiaeo Veneziano, and sometimes Valerio de Vicenca, or Jacopo Mellequino, architect, and Lactancio Tolomei, the acquaintance and friendship of these men I valued much more than others of more parade and pretension (as if there could be greater in the world, and so Rome values them); because from them, and from their works in my art, I obtained some fruit and knowledge. I amused myself in discussing with them many rare and noble works both of ancient and modern times. Master Michael especially I esteemed so much that if I met him either in the palace of the Pope or in the street, we could not part until the stars sent us to rest. D. Pedro Mascarenhas, the Ambassador, is my witness what a great thing this was and how difficult; and, too, of the tales M. Angelo, when coming out of vespers one day, told about me and about a book of mine in which I had drawn some things in Rome and Italy, to Cardinal Santtiquatro and to him. Now my habit was to go round the solemn temple of the Pantheon and note all its columns and proportions; the Mausoleum of Adrian and that of Augustus, the Coliseum, the Thermae of Antoninus and those of Diocletian, the Arch of Titus and that of Severus, the Capitol, the theatre of Marcellus and all the other notable things in that city, the names of which have already escaped me. At times, too, I was not turned out of the magnificent chambers of the Pope, I only went there because they were painted by the noble hand of Raphael of Urbino. I loved more those antique men of stone sculptured on the arches and columns of the old buildings, than those more inconstant which everywhere weary one with talking, I learned more from them and from their grave silence.

Now amongst the days which I thus passed in that Court there was a Sunday on which I went to see Messer Lactancio Tolomei, as others did; it was he, with the assistance of Messer Blosio, the Pope's secretary, who gave me the friendship of Michael Angelo. And this M. Lactancio was a very important personage, both on account of nobility of mind and of blood (he being a nephew of the Cardinal of Siena), as well as through his knowledge of Latin, Greek and Hebrew letters, and for the authority of his years. But finding in his house a message that he was at Monte Cavallo, in the church of St. Silvester, with the Lady Marchioness of Pescara, listening to a lecture from the Epistles of St. Paul, I went to Monte Cavallo and to St. Silvester. Now Senhora Vittoria Colonna, Marchioness of Pescara, and sister of Senhor Ascanio Colonna, is one of the most illustrious and famous ladies in Italy and in all Europe, which is the world, chaste yet beautiful, a Latin scholar, well-informed and with all the other parts of virtue and fairness to be praised in woman. She, after the death of her great husband, took to a private and simple life, contenting herself with the fact that she had already lived in her estate, and loving henceforward only Jesu Christ and good deeds, doing good to poor women and bearing the fruits of a true Catholic. For my friendship with this lady also I was indebted to M. Lactancio, who was the most intimate friend that she had.

Having commanded me to sit down, the lecture and its praises over, the Marchioness looking at me and at M. Lactancio, if I remember rightly, said:

"Francisco d'Ollanda will be better pleased to hear M. Angelo talk about painting, than Brother Ambrosio expound this lesson."

Then I, almost angry, answered her:

Why, madam, does it appear to your Excellency that I can attend to nothing but painting? Truly I shall always be pleased to hear M. Angelo, but when the Epistles of St. Paul are read, I prefer to hear Brother Ambrosio."

"Do not be angry, M. Francisco," M. Lactancio then said, "for the Marchioness does not think that the man who is a painter will not be everything. We esteem painting higher in Italy. But perchance she said that to you in order to give you, beyond what you already have, the further pleasure of hearing Michael."

I then replied:

"Her Excellency will be doing no more than she is in the habit of doing, giving always greater favours than one dares to ask."

The Marchioness, knowing my mind, called one of her servants, and said, smiling:

"To those who know how to express thanks one must study how to give, especially as I get as much in the giving as Francisco d'Ollanda does in receiving. Foao, go to the house of M. Angelo and tell him that I and M. Lactancio are here in this quiet chapel, and that the church is closed and very pleasant, if he cares to come and lose a little of the day with us, so that we may gain it with him. And do not tell him that Francisco d'Ollanda, the Spaniard, is here."

As I was whispering something about the discretion of the Marchioness in everything, in the ear of Lactancio, she desired to know what it was about.

"He was telling me," said Lactancio, "how well your Excellency knows how to preserve decorum in everything, even in a message. M. Michael is already more his friend than mine, for he tells me that when they meet, Michael Angelo does all he can to shun his company, seeing that when they once come together they never can part."

"I know that, for I know Master Michael Angelo," she returned; "but I do not know in what manner we shall treat him so that we may lead him on to talk of painting."

Brother Ambrosio of Siena (one of the appointed preachers to the Pope), who had not yet gone, said: "I do not believe that if Michael knows the Spaniard to be a painter, he will talk about painting at all, therefore let him hide himself that he may hear him."

"It is perhaps not so easy to hide this Portuguese," I replied with emphasis to the Friar, "from the eyes of Master Michael Angelo; he will know me better hidden than your reverence does here where I am, even if you put on spectacles; and you will see that, being here, he will see me very plainly if he comes."

Then the Marchioness and Lactancio laughed, but not I nor yet the Friar, who however heard the Marchioness say that he would find me to be something more than a painter.

After remaining but a short time silent, we heard a knocking at the door, and all began to fear that Michael would not come, as the messenger had returned so quickly. But Michael, who resides at the foot of Monte Cavallo, happened by good luck to be walking towards St. Silvester, on his way to the Thermae by the Esquiline road with his Orbino, philosophising by the way; being informed of the message, he could not run away from us, nor did he fail to be the person knocking at the door. The Marchioness rose to receive him, and remained standing awhile before causing him to take a seat between her and M. Lactancio. I sat a little way off, but the Marchioness, remaining awhile without speaking, not wishing to delay her practice of honouring those who conversed with her, and the place where she was, commenced, with an art that I could not describe, to say many things very well expressed, and with thoughts most graciously stated, without ever touching on painting, in order to ensure the great painter to us; and I saw her as one wishing to reduce a well armed city by discretion and guile; and we saw the painter, too, standing watchful and vigilant, as if he were besieged, placing sentries in one place and ordering bridges to be raised in another, making mines and defending all the walls and towers; but finally the Marchioness had to conquer, nor do I know who could defend himself against her.

She said: "It is known that whoever comes into conflict with M. Angelo in his own speciality, which is discretion, cannot but be vanquished. It is necessary, M. Lactancio, that we should talk with him about actions or briefs or painting to put him to silence and to obtain any advantage over him."

"Nay," I then said, "I know of no better way of wearying M. Angelo than by informing him that I am here, as he has not seen me hitherto. But I already know that the way not to see a person is to have him before one's eyes."

You should then have seen Michael turn himself towards me with astonishment, and say:

"Forgive me, M. Francisco, for not having seen you for had I not the Marchioness before my eyes, but as God has sent you here, assist and help me as a comrade."

"For that reason only will I forgive you; but it seems to me that the Marchioness causes with one light contrary effects, as the sun does, which with the same rays melts and hardens, because you were blinded by seeing her and I both hear and see you, because I see her; and also because I know how much a wise person will occupy himself with her Excellency, and how little time she leaves for others; and therefore at times I do not take the advice of some friars."

Here the Marchioness laughed again.

Then Friar Ambrosio rose and took leave of the Marchioness and of us, remaining thenceforward a great friend of mine, and he went away.

And now the Marchioness began to speak thus:

"His Holiness has done me the favour of allowing me to build a nunnery for ladies here at the foot of Monte Cavallo, by the broken portico, where it is said that Nero saw Rome burning, so that the wicked footprints of such a man may be trodden out by others more honest of holy women. I do not know, M. Angelo, what shape and proportions to give to the house, where the door should be placed, and whether some of the old work may be adapted to the new?"

"Yes, madam," said Michael, "the broken portico might be used as a campanile."

And this was so pleasant, and Michael said it so seriously and in such a manner that M. Lactancio could not help calling attention to it; and the great painter added these words:

"I quite think your Excellency may build the nunnery; and when we leave here, with your permission, we may very well go and look at the site, so as to give you some drawing for it."

"I did not dare to ask you for so much," she said, "but I already knew that in everything you follow the doctrine of the Lord: _deposuit potentes, exaltavit humiles_; and in that also you are excellent, for you acknowledge yourself at last as discreetly generous and not as an ignorant prodigal. And therefore in Rome those who know you esteem you even more than your works; and those who do not know you esteem only the least of you, which are the works of your hands. And certainly I do not give any less praise to your knowledge of how to retire within yourself and fly from our useless conversations, and to your wisdom in not painting for all the princes who ask you to do so, but confining yourself to the painting of a single work during all your life as you have done,"

"Madam," said Michael, "perchance you attribute to me more than I deserve; but in doing so you remind me that I wish to make a complaint against many persons, on my own behalf and on behalf of painters of my temperament, and also on behalf of M. Francisco here.

"There are many persons who maintain a thousand lies, and one is that eminent painters are eccentric and that their conversation is intolerable and harsh, they are only human all the while, and thus fools and unreasonable persons consider them fantastic and fanciful, allowing them with much difficulty the conditions necessary to a painter. It is quite true that such conditions are only necessary where there is a real painter, which is in very few places, as in Italy, where there is the perfection of all things; but foolish, idle persons are unreasonable in expecting so many compliments from a busy man: few mortals fulfil their duty well, one who does will not accuse another who is fulfilling his; painters are not in any way unsociable through pride, but either because they find few pursuits equal to painting, or in order not to corrupt themselves with the useless conversation of idle people, and debase the intellect from the lofty imaginations in which they are always absorbed. And I affirm to your Excellency that even his Holiness annoys and wearies me when at times he talks to me and asks me somewhat roughly why do I not come to see him, for I believe that I serve him better in not going when he asks me, little needing me, when I wish to work for him in my house; and I tell him that, as M. Angelo, I serve him more thus than by standing before him all day, as others do,"

"Oh, happy M. Angelo," said I at this stage, "my prince is not a Pope, can he forgive me such a sin?"

"Such sins, M. Francisco, are just those which kings pardon," said he, and added: "Sometimes, I may tell you, my important duties have given me so much licence that when, as I am talking to the Pope, I put this old felt hat non-chalantly on my head, and talk to him very frankly, but even for that he does not kill me; on the contrary, he has given me a livelihood.(187) And as I say, I have paid him more compliments in his service than unnecessary ones to his person. If perchance a man were so blind as to invent such an unprofitable exchange, as it is for a man to separate himself and content himself with himself whilst he loses his friends and makes enemies of all, would it not be very wrong if they bore him ill-will for that? But whoever has such a complexion both because the force of his duty demands it, and because of his having been born with a dislike of ceremony and dissimulation, it seems very foolish not to allow him to live. And if such a man is so moderate that he does not want anything of you, what do you want with him? And why should you wish to use him in those vanities for which his quietness is not fitted? Do you not know that there are sciences that require the whole man without ever leaving him free for your idle trivialities? When he has as little to do as you have, let him be killed if he does not observe your rules of etiquette and compliment even better than you. You only seek his company and praise him in order to obtain honour through him for yourselves, nor do you really mind what sort of man he is, so long as a pope or an emperor converse with him. And I dare affirm that he cannot be a great man who tries to satisfy idle persons rather than the men of his own craft, nor can one who is in nowise singular and reserved or whatever you may be pleased to call it, be better than the ordinary and vulgar talents which are to be found without a lantern in the market-places of the world...."

Here Michael ceased speaking, and a little while afterwards the Marchioness said:

"If those friends of whom you are speaking had the discretion of the friends of old, the evil would be smaller; when Arcesilaus went one day to see Apelles, who was ill and in need, this good friend raised his artist's head so as to arrange the pillow and put underneath a sum of money for his cure, which sum, having been found by the old woman attending him, who was frightened at the amount, Apelles, smiling, said: 'This money was stolen from Arcesilaus; do not be astonished.'"

Then Lactancio added, in this manner, his opinion: "Skilful artists would not exchange places with any other kind of men however great they may be, so satisfied are they with some special joyousness which they get from their art; but I would counsel them to exchange at least with the happy ones, if it seemed to me that they wished to do so, and were it not that they consider themselves the most happy of mortals. The mind which is capable of the very highest painting knows where the lives and pleasures of the pre-sumptuous lead them and what they are, and how they die nameless and without knowledge of the things which in the world are most worthy of being known and esteemed, and how we cannot even remember that such a man was born however much money he may have kept in his coffers. And thus he understands that good work and the good name of immortal virtue is the felicity of this life and all or almost all that is to be desired; and therefore he esteems himself more because he is on the road to attain that glory than one who does not know this and never even knew how to desire it. Many are content with much less power than that of imitating a work of God as in painting; and if one never attained to the distinction of governing a great province, it is but human to be satisfied with things which are more difficult and more uncertain than governing a country which stretched from the Columns of Hercules to the Indian River Ganges. Such an one never killed an enemy more difficult to conquer than is the conforming the work to the desire or idea of the great painter, and the one was never so satisfied drinking out of a golden cup as the other drinking out of an earthen pot. Nor was the Emperor Maximilian wrong in saying that he could indeed make a duke or a count, but as for an excellent painter God alone could make him when He so pleased, for which reason he abstained from putting to death a painter who deserved to die."

"What do you advise me to do, Master Lactancio," the Marchioness then said; "shall I put a question to M. Angelo about painting, as he now, in order to prove to me that great men are justified in their ways and not eccentric, may take measures like those he is accustomed to take?"

And Lactancio: "For your Excellency, Madam, M. Michael cannot help constraining himself and giving out here that which it is well that he keeps close elsewhere."

M. Angelo said: "I beg of your Excellency to tell me what I can give to her and it shall be given."

And she, smiling: "I very much wish to know, as we are dealing with this subject, what you think of the painting of Flanders and whom it will satisfy, because it appears to me more devout than the Italian style."

"The painting of Flanders, Madam," answered the artist slowly, "will generally satisfy any devout person more than the painting of Italy, which will never cause him to drop a single tear, but that of Flanders will cause him to shed many; this is not owing to the vigour and goodness of that painting, but to the goodness of such devout person; women will like it, especially very old ones, or very young ones. It will please likewise friars and nuns, and also some noble persons who have no ear for true harmony. They paint in Flanders, only to deceive the external eye, things that gladden you and of which you cannot speak ill, and saints and prophets. Their painting is of stuffs, bricks and mortar, the grass of the fields, the shadows of trees, and bridges and rivers, which they call landscapes, and little figures here and there; and all this, although it may appear good to some eyes, is in truth done without reasonableness or art, without symmetry or proportion, without care in selecting or rejecting, and finally without any substance or verve, and in spite of all this, painting in some other parts is worse than it is in Flanders. Neither do I speak so badly of Flemish painting because it is all bad, but because it tries to do so many things at once (each of which alone would suffice for a great work) so that it does not do anything really well.

"Only works which are done in Italy can be called true painting, and therefore we call good painting Italian, for if it were done so well in another country, we should give it the name of that country or province. As for the good painting of this country, there is nothing more noble or devout, for with wise persons nothing causes devotion to be remembered, or to arise, more than the difficulty of the perfection which unites itself with and joins God; because good painting is nothing else but a copy of the perfections of God and a reminder of His painting. Finally, good painting is a music and a melody which intellect only can appreciate, and with great difficulty. This painting is so rare that few are capable of doing or attaining to it. And I further say (which whoever notes it will consider important) that of all the climates or countries lighted by the sun and the moon, in no other can one paint well but in the kingdom of Italy; and it is a thing which is nearly impossible to do well except here, even though there were more talented men in the other provinces, if there could be such, and this for reasons which we will give you. Take a great man from another kingdom, and tell him to paint whatever he likes and can do best, and let him do it; and take a bad Italian apprentice and order him to make a drawing, or to paint whatever you like, and let him do it; you will find, if you understand it well, that the drawing of that apprentice, as regards art, has more substance than that of the other master, and what he attempted to do is worth more than everything that the other ever did. Order a great master, who is not an Italian, even though it be Alberto,(188) a man delicate in his manner, in order to deceive me, or Francisco d'Ollanda there, to counterfeit a work which shall be like an Italian work, and if it cannot be a very good one let it be an ordinary or a bad painting, and I assure you that it will be immediately recognised that the work was not done in Italy, nor by the hand of an Italian. I likewise affirm that no nation or people (I except one or two Spaniards) can perfectly satisfy or imitate the Italian manner of painting (which is the old Greek manner) without his being immediately recognised as a foreigner, whatever efforts he may make, and however hard he may work to do so. And if by some great miracle such a foreigner should succeed in painting well, then, although he may not have done it in order to imitate Italian work, it will be said that he painted like an Italian. Thus it is that all painting done in Italy is not called Italian painting, but all that is good and direct is, for in this country works of illustrious painting are done in a more masterly and more serious manner than in any other place. We call good painting _Italian_, which painting, even though it be done in Flanders or in Spain (which approaches us most) if it be good, will be Italian painting, for this most noble science does not belong to any country, _as it came from heaven_; but even from ancient times it remained in our Italy more than in any other kingdom in the world, and I think that it will end in it."

So he spoke. Seeing that Michael was now silent, I urged him on in this manner. "So, Master Michael Angelo, you assert that out of all the nations of the world it is only Italians who can paint? (Ollanda continues.)

"But what wonder in that? You must know that in Italy painting is done well for many reasons, and outside Italy painting is done badly for many reasons. Firstly, the nature of the Italians is studious in the extreme, and the talented already bring with them, when they are born, power of work, taste and love of that to which they are inclined, and of that which demands their genius; and if any one determines to make a profession, and to pursue some art or liberal science, he does not content himself with what is sufficient for him to become rich thereby, and one of the number of the craftsmen, but in order to be unique and distinguished he watches and works continuously, and keeps before his eyes the great hope of being a paragon of perfection (I speak where I know I am believed) and not a mere mediocrity in that art or science. This is because Italy does not esteem mediocrity, deeming it an exceedingly poor thing; and speaks only of those, and even praises them to the skies, who, like _eagles_, surpass all others, and penetrating the clouds approach the light of the sun. Then, again, you are born in a province (is not this an advantage?) which is the mother and protectress of all sciences and disciplines, amongst so many relics of your ancestors, which do not exist anywhere else, that already as children you find before your eyes in the streets a great part of whatever your inclination or genius may be inclined to; and from youth upwards you are accustomed to see those things which old men never saw in other kingdoms. Then, growing up, although you may have been rude and rough, by nature you are already so accustomed to have your eyes full of the forms of the many old things of renown, that you cannot fail to imitate them; and to all this are joined (as I say) distinguished talent and indefatigable study and taste. You have remarkable masters to imitate, and their works, and as regards new works the cities are full of the curious things and novelties which are discovered and found every day. And if all these things do not suffice, although I should consider them quite sufficient for the perfection of any science, at least this is quite enough; namely, that we, Portuguese, although some of us may be born with nice talent and minds--as many are born--have a contempt for and consider it fine to take little account of the arts, and we almost feel it a disgrace to know much about them, wherefore we always leave them imperfect and unfinished. You Italians alone, (I cannot even say Germans or Frenchmen), give the greatest honour, the greatest nobility and the power to be more, to a man who is a splendid painter or splendid in some faculty; and of all your noblemen, captains, wise men, satirists, cardinals and Popes, that man only who may attain the reputation of being perfect and rare in his profession is ever exalted or thought much of by you. And as great princes are not esteemed nor have any name in Italy, so it is a painter alone that they call the _divine_--Michael Angelo, as you will find in letters which Aretino, satirist of all Christian gentlemen, wrote you. Now, the payments and prices that in Italy are given for paintings also appear to me to have a great deal to do with the fact that painting cannot be done anywhere but here, because frequently for a head or face from nature one thousand 'cruzados' are paid, and many other works are paid for as you, gentlemen, know better than I, very differently from the way they are paid for in other kingdoms, seeing that mine is among the magnificent and wide. Now, your Excellency, please to judge whether these be hindrances or helps."

"It seems to me," answered the Marchioness, "that before these hindrances you must place talent and knowledge, which are not transalpine but belong to the good Italian; however, everywhere virtue is the same, good is the same, and evil is the same, although they may have a different civilisation from ours."

"If that," I answered, "were heard in my country, well, Madam, they would be astonished both at your Excellency praising me and in that manner, and by your making that difference between Italians and other men whom you call 'transalpine,' or from beyond the mountains:

'Non adeo obtusa gestamos pectora Poeni, Nec tam auersus equos, Lysia, sol iungit ab urbe.'

"We have, Madam, in Portugal, good and ancient cities, and principally my birthplace, Lisbon; we have good manners, and good courtiers and valiant cavaliers and courageous princes, both in war and in peace, and above all we have a very powerful and splendid king, who with great calmness tempers and governs us, and commands very distant provinces of barbarians, whom he has converted to the Faith; and he is feared by the whole East and by the whole of Mauritania and is a patron of the Fine Arts, so much so that, through making a mistake as to my talent, which in my youth promised some fruit, he sent me to see Italy and its civilisation, and Master Michael Angelo, whom I see here. It is quite true that we have not such buildings and pictures as you have, but they are already being made, and little by little they are losing that barbarian superfluity that the Goths and Moors sowed throughout Spain. I also hope that, on arriving in Portugal after leaving here, I may assist either in the elegance of building or in the nobility of painting, so that we may be able to compete with you. Our science is almost entirely lost, and without honour or renown in those kingdoms, and not through the fault of others, but through the fault of the place and disusage, to such extent that very few esteem it or understand it unless it be our most serene king, by supporting all virtue and patronising it; and likewise the most serene infante D. Luiz, his brother, a very valorous and wise prince, who has a very nice knowledge and discretion in every liberal art. All the others neither understand nor esteem painting."

"They do well," said M. Angelo.

But Master Lactancio Tolomei, who had not spoken for some time, proceeded in this manner:

"We Italians have this very great advantage over all other nations in this great world, in the knowledge and honour of all the illustrious and most worthy arts and sciences. But I would have you to know, M. Francisco d'Ollanda, that whoever does not understand and esteem the most noble art of painting does so because of his own defects and not because of the art, which is very noble and clear; and because he is a barbarian and without judgment, and has no honourable part in being a man. And this is proved by the example of the most powerful old and modern emperors and kings, and of the philosophers and wise persons who attained everything, and who so greatly esteemed and appreciated the knowledge of painting, and spoke of it with such high praises and examples, and in making use of it and paying for it so liberally and magnificently and, finally, by the great honour that the Mother Church does it, with the holy Pontiffs, cardinals, and great princes and prelates. And so you will find in all the past centuries, all the past valorous peoples and nations held this art in so much honour, that they admired nothing more nor considered anything as a greater wonder. And then we see Alexander the Great, Demetrius, and Ptolomy, famous kings, together with many other princes, who readily boast of understanding it; and amongst the Caesars, Augustus the divine Caesar, Octavian Augustus, M. Agrippa, Claudius, and Caligula and Nero, in this alone virtuous, likewise Vespasian and Titus, as was shown in the famous retable of the Temple of Peace, which he built after having vanquished the Jews and their Jerusalem. What shall I say of the great Emperor Trajan? What of Helius Adrianus, who with his own hand painted singularly well, as the Greek Dion writes in his life, and Spartianus? Then the divine Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, Julius Capitolinus, says how he learned to paint, Diognetus being his teacher; and even AElius Lampridius relates that the Emperor Severus Alexander, who was an exceedingly powerful prince, himself painted his genealogy to show that he descended from the lineage of the Metelos. Of the great Pompey, Plutarch says that in the city of Mitylene he drew with a style the plan and shape of the theatre, in order to have it afterwards built in Rome, which he did.

"And although, owing to its great effects and beauties, noble painting merits all veneration without seeking praise from other virtues, beside those proper to it, I still wished to show here, before one who knows it, by what sort of men it was esteemed. And if by chance, at any time or in any place, there should be found any one who, because of being highly placed and great, refuses to esteem this art, let him know that others still greater appreciated it greatly. Who can compare himself with Alexander the Greek? Who will exceed the prowess of Caesar the Roman? Who is of greater glory than Pompey? Who more a prince than Trajan? For these Alexanders and Caesars not only dearly loved the divine painting, and paid great prices for it, but with their own hands they occupied themselves with it and touched it. Or who, out of bravery and presumption, will despise it and be not rather very humble and very unworthy before painting, before her severe and grave face?"

Thus it seemed that Lactancio was finishing, when the Marchioness proceeded, saying:

"Or who will be the virtuous and serene man (if he despises it for its sanctity) who will not show great reverence and adore the spiritual contemplation and devotion of holy painting? I think that time would sooner be lacking than material for the praises of this virtue. It produces joy in the melancholy, it brings both the contented and the angry man to the knowledge of human misery; it moves the obstinate to compunction, the mundane to penitence, the contemplative to contemplation, and the fearful to shame. It shows us death and what we are, more gently than in any other way; the torments and dangers of hell; so far as is possible, it represents to us the glory and peace of the blessed, and the incomprehensible image of our Lord God. It represents to us the modesty of His saints, the constancy of the martyrs, the purity of the virgins, the beauty of the angels, and the love and ardour with which the seraphim burn, better than in any other way, and lifts up our spirit and plunges our mind into the depths beyond the stars, to imagine the empirean that there exists. What shall I say of how it brings before us the worthies who passed away so long ago, and whose bones even are not now upon this earth, to enable us to imitate them in their bright deeds? Or how it shows us their councils and battles by examples and delightful histories? Their great deeds, their piety and their manners? To captains it shows the manoeuvres of the old armies, the cohorts and their disposition, their discipline and their military order. It animates and creates daring, by emulation and an honest envy of the famous ones, as Scipio the African confessed.

"It leaves a memorial of the present times for those who come after. Painting shows us the garb of the pilgrim or of antiquity, the variety of foreign peoples and nations, buildings, animals, and monsters, which in writing it would be prolix to hear about, and even then it would be but badly understood. And not only these things does this noble art, but it places before our eyes the image of any great man who should be seen and known because of his deeds, and likewise the beauty of a woman who is separated from us by many leagues, a thing on which Pliny reflects much. To one who dies it gives many years of life, his own face remaining behind painted, and his wife is consoled, seeing daily before her the image of her deceased husband, and the sons who were left little children rejoice when men to know the presence and the aspect of their dear father, and fear to shame him."

As the Marchioness, almost weeping, made a pause here, M. Lactancio, in order to draw her out of her sorrowful imagination and memories, said:

"Besides all these things, which are great, what is there that more ennobles or makes other things more beautiful than painting, whether on arms, in temples, in palaces, or fortresses, or anywhere else where beauty and order may have a place? And so great minds assert that there is nothing a man can find to fight against his mortality or against the flight of time but painting only. Nor did Pithagoras depart from this view when he said that only in three things were men similar to the immortal God: in science, in painting, and in music."

Here Master Michael said:

"I am sure that if in your Portugal, M. Francisco, they were to see the beauty of the painting that is in some houses in Italy, they could not be so uncultured as not to esteem it greatly, and wish to attain to it; but it is not surprising that they do not know or appreciate what they have never seen and what they do not possess." Here M. Angelo rose, showing that it was already time for him to retire and go; and likewise the Marchioness rose; I asked her as a favour to invite all that distinguished company for the following day in that same place, and that M. Angelo should not fail to appear. She did so, and he promised that he would come. And the Marchioness going with the rest, M. Lactancio left with Michael, and I and Diogo Zapata, a Spaniard, went with the Marchioness from the monastery of St. Silvester at Monte Cavallo to the other monastery where there is the head of St. John the Baptist, and where the Marchioness resides, and we left her with the mothers and nuns, and I went to my residence.

SECOND DIALOGUE

All that night I thought of the past day, and was preparing myself for the one to come; but it frequently happens that our arrangements prove uncertain and vain, and very contrary to what we expect, as I then learnt. On the following day M. Lactancio sent me word that we could not meet as we had arranged, owing to certain business matters which had cropped up both for the Lady Marchioness and likewise for Michael Angelo himself, but he asked me to be at St. Silvester's in eight days' time, as that day had been agreed upon.

I found those eight days long, but finally, when Sunday came, the time appeared to me to have been but short, for I should have liked to have been better armed with knowledge for such a noble company. When I arrived at St. Silvester the lesson from the Epistles which Friar Ambrose read was finished and he was gone, and they were beginning to complain of my being late and about me.

After they had pardoned me, I having confessed to being a laggard, and after the Marchioness had bantered me a little, and I Messer Angelo in my turn, I obtained permission to proceed with the former conversation about painting; I commenced saying:

"I think, Senhor Michael Angelo, that last Sunday, when we were about to part, you told me that if in the kingdom of Portugal, which you here call Spain, they were to see the noble pictures of Italy, they would esteem them greatly, for which reason I beg as a favour (for I have come here for nothing else) that you will not disdain to inform me what famous works in painting there are in Italy, so that I may know how many I have already seen, and how many I still have to see."

"You ask me a question which would take long to answer, M. Francisco," said M. Angelo, "wide and difficult to put together, for we know that there is no prince or private person or nobleman in Italy, or any one of any pretension, however little curious he may be about painting (to say nothing of those excellent ones who adore it), who does not take steps to have some relic of divine painting, or who at least, in so far as he can, does not order many works to be executed. So that a good portion of the beauty of our art is spread over many noble cities, castles, country-seats, palaces and temples, and other private and public buildings; but as I have not seen them all in an orderly manner, I can only speak of some which are the principal ones.

"In Siena there is some singular painting in the Municipal Chamber and in other places; in Florence, my native place, in the Palaces of the Medici, there is a grotesque by Giovanni da Udine, and so throughout Tuscany. In Urbino, the Palace of the Duke, who was himself half a painter, has a great deal of praiseworthy work, and also in his country-seat called 'Imperial,' near Pesaro, erected by his wife, there is some very magnificent painting. So, too, the Palace of the Duke of Mantua, where Andrea painted the Triumph of Caius Caesar, is noble; but more so still is the work of the Stable, painted by Julius, a pupil of Raphael, who now flourishes in Mantua. In Ferrara we have the painting of Dosso in the Palace of Castello, and in Padua they also praise the loggia of M. Luis, and the Fortress of Lenhago. Now in Venice there are admirable works by Chevalier Titian, a valiant man in painting and in drawing from nature, in the Library of St. Mark, some in the House of the Germans, and others in churches and in other good hands; and the whole of that city is a good painting.

"So in Pisa, in Lucca, in Bologna, in Piacenza, in Parma, where there is the Parmesano,(189) in Milan, and in Naples. So in Genoa there is the house of Prince Doria, painted by Master Perino, with great judgment, especially the Storm of the Vessels of AEneas, in oils, and the ferocity of Neptune and his sea-horses; and likewise in another room there is a fresco, Jupiter fighting against the giants in Phlegra, overthrowing them with thunderbolts; and nearly the whole city is painted inside and out. And in many other castles and cities of Italy, such as Orvieto, Esi,(190) Ascoli, and Como, there are pictures nobly painted, and all of great price, for I only speak of such; and if we were to speak of the private paintings and pictures that every one holds dearer than life, it would be to speak of the innumerable, and there are to be found in Italy some cities which are nearly all painted with tolerable painting, inside and out."

It seemed that Michael was coming to a conclusion, when the Lady Marchioness, looking at me, said:

"Do you not remark, M. Francisco, that M. Michael abstained from speaking of Rome, the mother of painting, so as not to talk of his own works? Now what he would not do, let us not fail to do for the purpose of ensnaring him the more, for when one deals with famous paintings, no other has such value as the fount from which they are derived and proceed. And this work is in the head and fount of the Church, I mean in St. Peter's in Rome; a great vault, in fresco, with its circuit and curvatures of arches, and a facade, in which M. Angelo divinely made us understand and divided into histories how God first created the world, with many images of Sibyls and figures of exceedingly great artistic beauty and artifice. And what is singular is, that doing nothing more than this work, which as yet he has not completed, and having commenced it when a youth, there is therein comprised the work of twenty painters united in that vault alone. Raphael of Urbino painted in this city a second work of such art that it would have been the first if the other had not existed. It is a hall and two chambers and a loggia in fresco, in the palaces of the said St. Peter, a magnificent thing of many elegant stories of a very decorous description. And the story of Apollo playing his harp amongst the nine muses in the Parnasus is singular. In the house(191) of Augustimguis (Chigi) Raphael has painted very preciously a poetry, the story of Psyche, and very gracefully he surrounded Galatea by mermen in the middle of the waves and by cupids in the air. The picture in S. Pietro in Montorio of the Transfiguration of our Lord,(192) in oils, is very good, and another in Aracoeli, and in the Temple of Peace, in fresco.(193) The picture in S. Pietro in Montorio by the hand of Bastiaeo Veneziano(194) is famous; he did it in competition with Raphael. There are many facades of palaces in this city, in white and black,(195) by Baltesar(196) di Siena, architect, and by Marturino and by Polidoro, a man who in that manner of working magnificently enriched Rome. Further, there are here many palaces of Cardinals and other men painted in grotesque and in stucco and with many other varieties of art, for the city is more painted than any other in the whole world, apart from the private pictures that every one holds dearer than life itself. But of the things outside the city, the Vigna, begun by Pope Clement VII., at the foot of Monte Mario, is most worth seeing; it is ornamented by the fine painting and sculpture of Raphael and Julius, where the giant lies sleeping, whose feet the satyrs are measuring with shepherds' crooks. You now see whether these are works which would lead us to be silent about our city."

And she was already ceasing to speak, when I remembered me, and said:

"No doubt your Excellency also forgot the famous tomb or chapel of the Medici in San Lorenzo, at Florence, painted in marble by M. Angelo, with such a generous number of statues in full relief that it can certainly compete with any of the great works of antiquity; where the goddess or image of Night, sleeping above the nocturnal bird, and the melancholy Death in Life pleased me the most, although there are there many noble sculptures around the Dawn. But I cannot omit the mention of a painting which I saw, even though it was outside Italy, in France or Provence, in the City of Avignon, in a Franciscan monastery: it is that of a dead woman who had been very beautiful, she was called the Beautiful Anna; a king of France who liked painting and who painted (if I am not mistaken) called Reynel, came to Avignon and inquired whether the Beautiful Anna was there because he greatly desired to see her to paint her from life, and having been told that she had died shortly before, the king caused her to be disinterred to see whether still in her bones there were some traces of her beauty. He found her clothed, in the old style, as if she were alive, with her golden hair dressed on her head, but all the gay beauty of the face, which alone was uncovered, had changed into a skull; notwithstanding this, the painter king considered it so beautiful that he painted her from nature, surrounding his work with verses which mourn and are still mourning for her. Which work I saw in that place and I thought it very worthy."

All were pleased with my picture, and M. Angelo added that in Narbonne I would have also seen the picture St. Sebastian in the Cathedral, and he said:

"In France there is some good painting, and the King of France has many palaces and pleasure houses with innumerable paintings, both in Fontainebleau, where the king kept together two hundred painters, well paid, for a certain time; and in Madrid, the pleasure house which he built, where he voluntarily imprisons himself at times, in memory of Madrid in Spain where he was a prisoner."

"I think," said M. Lactancio, "that I heard a while ago Francisco d'Ollanda name amongst paintings the tomb that you, Senhor Michael, sculptured in marble; but I do not understand how sculpture can be called painting."

Then I began to laugh heartily, and begging permission of the Master, said:

"To save Senhor Michael trouble I will reply to Senhor Lactancio concerning this doubt of his, which has followed me here from my own country.

"As you will find that all the employments which have most art and reasonableness and grace are those which most nearly approach the drawing or painting, so those which most nearly approach it proceed from it and are a part or member of it, such as sculpture or statuary, which is nothing else but painting itself, although it may well appear to some to be a separate art; it is, however, condemned to serve painting, its mistress.

"And this I will give as a sufficient proof (as your Excellencies well know), that in the books we find Phidias and Praxiteles called painters, whilst it is certain that they were sculptors in marble, seeing that the statues from their hands in stone are here near us, on this hill, the horses which they made, which King Teridade sent to Nero as a present, for which reason in recent times this place is called Monte Cavallo. And should this not be enough, I will add how Donatello (who, with the permission of Master Michael, was one of the first modern ones who in sculpture merited fame and name in Italy) never said anything else to his pupils, when teaching them, but draw, telling them in a single word of doctrine: 'Pupils, I give you the whole art of sculpture when I tell you--_draw!_' And so Pomponio Gaurico, sculptor, also affirms in the book he wrote 'De Re Statuaria.' But why do I seek examples and proofs afar, when perchance they are near me? And so as not to speak of myself, I say the great draughtsman, M. Angelo, who is here, also sculptures in marble, which is not his art, and better even (if one may say it) than he paints with the brush on a panel, and he himself has told me sometimes that he finds the sculpture of stone less difficult than the using of colours, and that he deems it to be a very much greater thing to make a masterly stroke with the brush than with the chisel. And even a famous draughtsman, if he so desires, will by himself sculpture and carve in hard marble, in bronze and in silver, exceedingly large statues in full relief (which is a great thing), without ever having taken a chisel in his hand; and this is owing to the great virtue and power of drawing. It does not, therefore, follow that a sculptor will know how to paint or how to hold a brush, nor will he know how to paint and make a stroke like a master, as I learnt a few days ago on going to see Baccio Blandino,(197) the sculptor, whom I found trying to paint in oils and unable to do so. The draughtsman will be a master in building palaces or temples, and will carve statues and will paint pictures; for the said Master Michael and Raphael and Baltesar di Siena,(198) famous painters, taught architecture and sculpture, and Baltesar di Siena, after briefly studying that art, equalled Bramante, a most eminent architect, who passed all his life in its discipline, and yet he used to say that it gave him an advantage, for he appreciated the invention, fancy and freedom of drawing. I am speaking of true painters."

"But I say, Senhor Lactancio," said Michael, assisting M. Francisco, "that the painter of whom he speaks not only will be instructed in liberal arts and other sciences such as architecture and sculpture, which are his own province, but also in all other manual crafts which are practised throughout the world; should he wish, he will do them with more art than the actual masters of them. However that may be, I sometimes set myself thinking and imagining that I find amongst men but one single art or science, and that is drawing or painting, all others being members proceeding therefrom; for if you carefully consider all that is being done in this life you will find that each person is, without knowing it, painting this world, creating and producing new forms and figures here, in dress and the various garbs, in building and occupying spaces with painted buildings and houses, in cultivating the fields and ploughing the land into pictures and sketches, in navigating the seas with sails, in fighting and dividing the spoil, and finally in the 'firmamentos' and burials and in all other operations, movements and actions. I leave out all the handicrafts and arts, of which painting is the principal fount, of which some are rivers which spring from it, such as sculpture and architecture; some are brooks, such as mechanical trades; and some are stagnant ponds, which do not flow (such as useless handicrafts like cutting out with scissors and such like), formed from the waters of the flood when drawing overflowed its banks in old time and inundated everything under its dominion and empire, as one sees in the works of the Romans, all done in the manner of painting. In all their painted buildings and fabrics, in all works in gold, silver, or in metals, in all their vases and ornaments, and even in the elegance of their coins, and in their dress and armour, in their triumphs as well as in all their other operations and works, one easily recognises how, in the time when they held sway over all the earth, my lady painting was the universal sovereign and mistress of all their deeds and trades and sciences, extending herself even to writing, and composing or writing histories. So that whosoever well considers and understands human works, will find without doubt that they are all either painting itself or some part of painting; and although the painter be capable of inventing what has not as yet been found, and of doing all the handicrafts of the others with much more grace and elegance than their own professors, yet no one but he can be a true painter or draughtsman."

"I am satisfied," answered Lactancio, "and understand better the great power of painting, which, as you stated, is seen in all things of the ancients and even in writing and composing. And perhaps notwithstanding your great imagination you will not have been as much struck as I have been with the conformity which letters have with painting (for you will certainly hold letters to be a part of painting); nor by how these two sciences are such legitimate sisters that, if one be separated from the other, neither is perfect, although it seems that these present times keep them in some way separated. But yet every learned and consummate man will find that in all his works he is always exercising to a great extent the office of a good painter, painting and colouring some intention of his with much care and devotion. Now in opening the old books, the famous ones are few which are not like painting; and it is certain that those which are the heaviest and most confused are so for no other reason but because the writers are not good draughtsmen and are not very skilful in drawing and dividing up their work; and the most facile and terse are those of the best draughtsman. And even Quintilian in the perfection of his _Rhetoric_ lays it down that not only in the division of the words his orator should draw, but that with his own hand he should know how to sketch and draw; and hence it is, Senhor M. Angelo, that you may at times call a great man of letters or a great preacher a good painter; and a great draughtsman you may call a man of letters, and whosoever most penetrates into real antiquity will find that painting and sculpture were both called painting, and that in the time of Demosthenes they called _writing_ 'antigraphia,' which means _drawing_, and it was a word common to both these sciences, and that the writings of Agatharco can be called the painting of Agatharco. And I think that the Egyptians also--all of them who had to write or express anything--were accustomed to know how to paint, and even their hieroglyphic signs were painted animals and birds, as is shown by some obelisks in this city which came from Egypt. But if I speak of poetry, it seems to me that it will not be very difficult for me to show how true a sister she is to painting. But so that Senhor Francisco may know how much necessity he has for poetry, and how much he may gain from the best of it, I will show him here how much care the poets take (although this is matter for a young man rather than for me) of their profession and intelligence, and how much they praise and celebrate their art as being free from penalties and blots; and it does not seem that the poets worked for anything except to teach the beauties of painting, and what ought to be avoided or done in it, with all their suavity and music of verses, and with so many just and fluent words that I do not know how I can repay them. Now one of the things in which they put the most study and work (I speak of the famous poets) is in painting well or in imitating a good painting; and this is due to the accuracy which, with the greatest promptness and care, they desire to express and attain. And the one who can attain this is the one who is the most excellent and clear. I remember that the prince of them, Virgil, threw himself down to sleep at the foot of a beech-tree, and how he has painted in words the forms of two vases that Alcimedon had made in a cavern covered with a wild vine, with some goats chewing willows, and some blue hills smoking in the distance; then he remains resting on one hand the whole day, to study how many winds and clouds he will put into the Tempest of AEolus, and how he will paint the Port of Carthage in a bay, with an island standing apart, and with how many rocks and woods he will surround it. Afterwards he paints Troy burning; then some feasts in Sicily, and beyond near Cumas the gate of hell with a thousand monsters, and chimeras, and many souls passing Acheron; then the Elysian Fields, the host of the Blest, the pains and torments of the Impious, and afterwards the Arms of Vulcan, a fine piece of work; shortly afterwards a painted Amazon, and the ferocity of capless Turnus. He paints the routs in battle, the many dead, the fates of noble men, the many spoils and trophies. Read the whole of Virgil and you will not find in it anything but the handicraft of a Michael Angelo. Lucan employs a hundred pages in painting an enchantress and the breaking up of a fine battle. Ovid is nothing else but a 'retavolo' (copyist). Statius paints the house of sleep and the walls of great Thebes. The poet Lucretius likewise paints, and Tibullus and Catullus and Propertius. One paints a fountain, and a wood close by, with Pan, the shepherd, playing a flute amongst the ewes. Another paints a shrine with nymphs around dancing. Another draws the drunken Bacchus, surrounded by wild women, with old Silenus, half falling from an ass, who would have fallen were he not held up by a satyr who carries a leathern bottle. Even the satirical poet paints the picture of the labyrinth. Now what do the lyric poets do, or the wits of Martial, or the tragic or comic ones? What do they do but paint reasonably? And what I say I do not invent, for each one of them himself confesses that he paints: they called painting dumb poetry."

At this point I said: "Senhor Lactancio, in calling painting _dumb_ poetry it seems to me that the poets did not know how to paint well, because, if they understood how much more painting declares and speaks than poetry, her sister, they would not say it was dumb, and I will maintain rather that poetry is the more dumb."

The Marchioness said: "How will you prove, Spaniard, what you say? how will you prove that painting is not dumb and that poetry is? Let us hear, for in no more worthy discourse could this day be spent, hearing what you maintain on that subject; afterwards it may be possible to bring this company together again, in another place."

"How can your Excellency wish," I answered, "that I should dare to do so at once, and how should I be able to interest this company with my little knowledge, especially as I am a pupil of the lady who is dumb and has no tongue? Particularly, too, as it is already late, if the light through these windows does not deceive me; how can you order me to praise my innamorata before her own husband and in such an honourable court of those who know her worth? If there were some powerful adversaries here I might attempt it, although in this I am wrong, for it would be much easier to vanquish enemies than to please these friends. But if your Excellency desires so much to see me put to silence I will speak, not as an enemy of poetry, for I am much indebted to her, and I owe her much in the virtue of my profession, and in the perfection which I so much desire, but to defend the other lady, who is still more mine, for whose sake only I rejoice to live, and for whom I confess I have a voice and speak, she being dumb, solely because I one day saw her move her eyes; and as she teaches one to speak by her eyes, what would she do if she were to move her wise lips? Good poets (as Senhor Lactancio said) do not do more with words than even mediocre painters do with their works, for the former recount what the latter express and declare. They with fastidious meanings do not always engage one's ears, whilst the latter satisfy one's eyes, as with some beautiful spectacle they hold all men prisoners and entranced; and the passage over which good poets most trouble themselves, and which they hold as the greatest finesse, is to show you in words (perchance too many and too long), as if painting a storm on the sea, or the burning of a city, which storm, if they were able, they would rather paint, for when you finish the work of reading, you have already forgotten the commencement, and you have only present the short verse on which your eyes were last fixed; and the one who shows you this best is the best poet.

"Now, how much more does painting say which shows you that storm altogether with the thunder, lightning, waves, vessels, and reefs, and you see: _omniaque viris ostentant praesentem mortem_, and in the same place: _ex-templo Aeneas tendens ad sidera palmas_ and _tres Eurus abreptas in saxa latentia torquet emissamque hyemem sensit Neptunus et imis_, and likewise it shows very present and visibly all the burning of the city, in every part, represented and seen as if it were really true; on one side those who run through the streets and squares, on the other those who jump from the walls and towers; here the temples half demolished and the reflection of the flames in the rivers, and the surrounded shores illuminated; how Pantheus as he runs away limping with his idols, leading his grandchild by the hand; how the Trojan horse gives birth in the centre of a great square to armed men; how Neptune, very wrath, throws down the walls; how Pyrrhus beheads Priam; AEneas with his father on his shoulders, and Ascanius and Creusa who follow him in the darkness of night, full of fear; and all this so present and so connected and natural that very often you are moved to think that you are not safe before it, and you are glad to know they are only colours and that they cannot inspire or do harm. It does not show you this spread out in words, whilst you remember only the part which is before your eyes having already forgotten the past and not knowing the future, and which verses only the ears of a grammarian can understand with difficulty, but one's eyes visibly enjoy that spectacle as being true, and one's ears seem to hear the actual cries and clamour of the painted figures; it seems as if you smell the smoke, you fly from the flames, you fear the fall of the buildings; you are ready to give a hand to those who are falling, you defend those who are fighting against numbers; you run away with those who run away and stand firm with the courageous. Not only the learned are satisfied, but also the simple, the countryman, the old woman; not only these, but also the Sarmatian stranger, the Indian, and the Persian (who never understood the verses of Virgil, or Homer, which are dumb to them), delight themselves with and understand that work with great pleasure and quickness; the barbarian ceases to be barbarian, and understands, by virtue of the eloquent painting, that which no poetry or numbered feet could teach him. And the law of painting says: _in ipsa legunt qui literas nesciunt_, and further on says: _pro lectione pictura est_. When Cebes, a Theban, wished to write an opinion of his for a law of human life, he simulated and painted it on a 'panel,' as he thought that he would express it better thus, and that it would be more noble and more easily understood by all men; he then desired more to know how to paint, in order to speak, than how to write. But even, if after all this, poetry still affirms that a Venus painted at the feet of a Jupiter does not speak, nor Turnus painted, showing his valour before King Latinus, even this reason cannot render learned painting dumb so that she does not speak, and show in all things that she is in this also the first, or perhaps the companion, of my lady poetry. For the great painter will paint Venus weeping at the feet of Jupiter, with all the following advantages, which the poet will not have: the first one is that he paints heaven where it is supposed to be, and the person, dress, and action or movement of Jupiter and his eagle with the thunderbolt; and he will paint fully the luxurious beauty of Venus, and her robe of gauzy raiment with all her graceful movements, so elegant and light and with such skill that, although she may not speak with her mouth, yet it appears from her eyes, hands, and mouth that she is really speaking (nor do you hear the soft and sweet speech of Venus, when a croaking school-master reads the words and sayings of Venus). She appears to be uttering all those pious sayings and complaints which Virgil Maro writes concerning her. And also the great painter will make even King Latinus more copious in his work and the Councillors of the Laurentes more defined, clearer, some with perturbed face, and others more collected and quiet, different in appearance and physiognomy and age, different in movements, which the poet cannot do without too much prolixity and confusion. And even then he will not do it; and the painter will do it so that it may be seen with greater pleasure and move the spectator more, and likewise he will place before your eyes the brave image of Turnus, boastful and furious with the coward Drances, that it seems as if you fear him yourself and that he is saying: _Larga quidem semper, Drance, tibi copia fandi_. Therefore I with my small talent, as a pupil of a mistress without a tongue, still deem the power of painting to be greater than that of poetry in making greater effects and in having more force and vehemence whether to move mind and soul to joy and laughter, or to sorrow and tears, with more effective eloquence. But let the muse Calliope be the judge in this matter, for I will be content with her judgment."

And having said that I ceased. The Marchioness honoured me in bantering terms thus:

"You, Senhor Francisco, have done so well for your innamorata, painting, that, if Master Michael does not show just as great a sign of love for her, we may perhaps get her to divorce him and go with you to Portugal."

And, smiling, Michael said: "He knows, Madam, that I have already done so, and that I have already released her entirely to him; for as I do not possess such powers as such great love demands, he has said what he has said, as of one who belongs to him."

"I confess," said I, "Madam, that he has released her to me, but she does not wish to go with me, so that she still remains at home with him; neither would I, although she is so worthy, like to see her come to my country, for there are but few there who know how to esteem her, and my most serene king, unless it were in his unoccupied moments, would not favour her, especially if there happened to be any unrest through war, in which she is of no use; and so she would become angry and perhaps in a fit of temper she would one day throw herself into the ocean, which is hard by, and cause me to sing many times the verse:

Audieras: et fama fuit; sed opera tantum nostra valent, Lycida, tela inter maria, quantum chaonias dicunt aquila veniente columbas.

But if she were of use in time of war, I would desire her to come at once."

"I quite understand," said the Marchioness, "but as now the day is far spent, let your question be for next Sunday." And as she said this she rose, and all of us with her, and we went away.

THIRD DIALOGUE

Not only were we unable to meet together on the following Sunday with the Marchioness and M. Angelo, but even on the next one, eight days later, we were almost prevented, and indeed did not wish to meet, because at that time was being celebrated in the city of Rome the feast of the twelve triumphal cars in the Camp Nagao(199) in the ancient manner. Starting from the Capitol with such magnificence and ancient pomp that it seemed as if one were back in the old times of the Emperors and the triumphs of the Romans. This feast was celebrated on the occasion of the marriage(200) of Senhor Ottavio,(201) son of Pedro Luiz, and grand-nephew of our Lord Pope Paul III., to Senhora Margarida,(202) adopted daughter of the Emperor. She had been a short time previously the wife of Alessandro de Medici, Duke of Florence, who was killed through treason in Florence. And now, she being a widow and very young and beautiful, his Holiness and his Majesty married her to Senhor Ottavio, a very young and estimable man, consequently the city and the Court feasted them as much as could be at night with serenades and banquets, and the whole of Rome ablaze with lights and illuminations, especially the Castle of St. Angelo, and every day feasts and great expenditure. Such as the feast of Monte Trestacho, with its twenty bulls attached to twenty carts, killed as a public spectacle in the square of St. Peter's; and the race which was run between buffaloes and horses along the entire Via di Nostra Signora Transpontina to the square of the said palace. And also those festivals which I have mentioned of the twelve triumphal cars, gilded and ornamented with many fine figures and very noble devices; there were Romans and the heads of the districts of Rome, dressed in the old style, with all the pomp and pride that could be desired; one hundred sons of citizens on horseback, so brave and so bizarre in their gallantry of painted antiquity, that in comparison with them the velvet mantles and plumes and the infinity of novelties and costumes in which Italy exceeds every other province of Europe, appeared very ordinary. But when I had seen this noble phalanx and company descending from the Capitol with many infantry, and had viewed all the bravery of the cars and the ediles, dressed in the old fashion, and had seen Senhor Giulio Cesarino pass with the standard of the city of Rome, on a horse with trappings covered with a white coat of arms and black brocade, I at once turned my horse towards Monte Cavallo, and thus went riding along the Thermae road pondering over many things of the olden times, in which I then felt myself to be more than in the present.

Then I ordered my servant to go without fail to St. Silvester and learn whether perchance the Marchioness or Senhor M. Angelo happened to be there. The servant was not long in returning, telling me that Senhor M. Angelo and Senhor Lactancio and Brother Ambrose were all together in the friar's cell, which was itself in St. Silvester, but that no mention whatever had been made of the Marchioness. I went on towards St. Silvester, but the truth is that I intended to pass before it and to return to the city, when I saw coming a certain Capata, a great servitor of the Marchioness, and a very honourable person and my friend. I being on horseback and he on foot, I was obliged to dismount; and he having told me that he had been sent by the Marchioness, we went into St. Silvester. As we were entering Senhores, M. Angelo and M. Lactancio were coming out by way of the garden or court, in order to take their siesta under the trees by the running water.

"Oh! welcome," said Senhor Lactancio, "both of you; you could not arrive at a better moment; you have been very wise to fly from the confusion in the city and take shelter in this quiet haven."

"That is all very well," we said, "but this flattery does not console us, nor is it sufficient to compensate us for the loss of the absent one."

"He said that for the Marchioness," said Senhor Michael, "and you are so far right, that if you had not come this instant I might have gone."

Conversing thus we sat down on a stone bench in the garden at the foot of some laurels, on which there was room for all of us, and we were very comfortable, leaning back against the green ivy which covered the wall, and from there we could see a good part of the city, very graceful and full of ancient majesty.

"Let us not lose everything," said Senhor Capata, after making excuses for the Marchioness; "let us get some profit out of such a goodly assembly as we have here; please continue the same noble discussion which you held a few days ago, on the most noble art of painting, seeing that the Marchioness very reluctantly commissioned me to that end, for she herself would have liked to be present. But you must know that she sent me here to report to her everything stored in my memory, to relate to her everything treated of, without losing a single point. And therefore we are bound, gentlemen, I to hear and to be silent about what I do not understand, and you to give me something to remember and report."

"Senhor Michael," I answered, "must fulfil the wishes of the Marchioness when she heard me in the last discussion, and practically promised to show me whether painting would be entirely useless in time of war, for I remember that her Excellency named last Sunday, in which we did not meet, for that purpose."

Here M. Angelo laughed, and added:

"So you, M. Francisco, expect the Marchioness to have as much power when absent as when present. Well, as you have so much faith in her, I do not wish you to lose it through me."

All said that it would be well, and then M. Angelo began to say:

"And what is there more profitable in the business and undertaking of war, or what is of more use in the operations of sieges and assaults than painting? Do you not know that when Pope Clement and the Spaniards besieged Florence, it was only by the work and virtue of the painter M. Angelo that the besieged were defended a good while, not to say, the city released, and the captains and soldiers outside were for a good while astonished and oppressed and killed through the defences and strongholds which I made on the tower, lining them in one night on the outside with bags of wool and other materials, emptying them of earth and filling them with fine powder, with which I burnt a little the blood of the Castillians, whom I sent through the air torn in pieces? So that I consider great painting as not only profitable in war, but exceedingly necessary; for the engines and instruments of war and for catapults, rams, mantlets, testudines, and iron-shod towers and bridges, and (as this bad and iron time does not make any use of these arms now, but rejects them) mortars; for the shaping of the mortars, battering-rams, strengthened cannons, and arquebuses, and especially for the shape and proportions of all fortresses and rocks, bastions, strongholds, fences, mines, countermines, trenches, loop-holes, casemates; for the entrenchments for horsemen, ravelins, gabions, battlements, for the invention of bridges and ladders, for the emplacement of camps, for the order of the lines, measurement of the squadrons, for the difference and design of arms, for the designs of the banners and standards, for the devices on the shields and helmets, and also for new coats of arms, crests and medals which are given on the field to those who show great prowess, for the painting of trappings (I mean, the giving of instruction to other lesser painters as to how they ought to be painted, and seeing that the excellent painters can paint the trappings of the horses and the shields and even the tents for valorous princes); for the manner of dividing and selecting everything; for the description and assortment of the colours and liveries, which but few can determine. Moreover, drawing is of exceedingly great use in war to show in sketches the position of distant places and the shape of the mountains and the harbours, as well as that of the ranges of mountains and of the bays and seaports, for the shape of the cities and fortresses, high and low, the walls and the gates and their position, to show the roads and the rivers, the beaches and the lagoons and marshes which have to be avoided or passed; for the course and spaces of the deserts and sandy pits of the bad roads and of the woods and forests; all this done in any other way is badly understood, but by drawing and sketching all is very clear and intelligible; all of these are great things in warlike undertakings, and the drawings of the painter greatly aid and assist the intentions and plans of the captain. What better thing can any brave cavalier do than show before the eyes of the raw and inexperienced soldiers the shape of the city that they have to attack before they approach it, what river, what mountains and what towns have to be passed on the morrow? And the Italians, at least, say that, if the Emperor when he entered Provence had first ordered the course of the river Rodano to be drawn, he would not have sustained such great losses, nor retired his army in disorder, nor would he have been painted afterwards in Rome as a crab, which crawls sideways, with the words borne by the columns of Hercules, _Plus ultra_, for, wishing to go forward, he went back. And I well believe that Alexander the Great in his great undertakings frequently made use of the skill of Apelles, even if he himself did not know how to draw. And in the works and commentaries, written by the monarch Julius Caesar, we may see how much he availed himself of drawing, through some capable man whom he had in his army. And I even think that the said Caesar was extremely intelligent in painting, that the great Captain Pompey drew very well and with style, he being vanquished by Caesar, as Caesar was a better draughtsman. And I assert that a modern captain who commands a great army and who is not capable and intelligent in painting and cannot draw, cannot do any great feats or deeds of arms; and that he who understands and esteems it will do deeds of renown which will be long remembered, and will know his ways and how he stands, and how and where he will break through, and how he will order his retreat, and he will know how to make his victory appear much greater. For painting in war is not only advantageous but very necessary. What country warmed by the sun is more bellicose and better armed than our Italy, or where are there more continuous wars and greater routs and sieges? and in what country warmed by the sun is painting more esteemed and celebrated than in Italy?"

M. Angelo was already reposing when Joao Capata said:

"It indeed seems to me, Master Michael, that in arming excellently Francisco d'Ollanda's lady you disarmed the Emperor Charles, not remembering that we here are more Colonna than Orsino. I do not wish to revenge myself for that except by asking you, since you have shown the worth of painting in war, to now say what it can do in peace, because it appears to me that you have said so many profitable things of it in the time of arms that I doubt whether you will find as many in the time of the toga."

He laughed and answered:

"Your Excellency will please not to count me as an Orsino. You will remember how I at once became one of those columns that the crab was going to seek;" and afterwards he added:

"If it was a trouble for me to show the advantage of this our art in time of war, I hope it will not be so to show its worth in the time of the toga and of peace; then princes are in the habit of availing themselves with pleasure and cost of things of very little importance and almost of no value at all; and we see that some men are so clever in idle things that by works of no nobility or profit, and without any learning or substance, they are able to acquire a name, honour, profit and substance for themselves and loss to whomsoever may give them their profit. We see that in the domains and states which are governed by a senate and republic they make much use of painting in public places, in the cathedrals, in the temples, in halls of justice, in courts, porticos, basilicas and palaces, in libraries, and generally for public ornament; and every noble citizen has privately in his palaces or chapels, country seats or 'vignas,' a good portion of painting. But as it is not lawful in such a country for any one to make more show than his neighbour, by giving commissions to painters so as to make themselves out rich and well-to-do, with how much more reason ought this profitable art and science to be made use of in the obedient and peaceful kingdoms where God permits one man to incur all these magnificent expenses and carry out all the sumptuous works that his taste and honour may desire and demand, particularly as it is such a generous art that one person can do alone and without any adviser what many men together cannot do? And a prince would be doing a great wrong to himself--to say nothing of the fine arts--if, when he obtains quietness and saintly peace, he does not undertake great enterprises in painting both for the ornamentation and glory of his estate and for his private contentment and the recreation of his mind. And then in times of peace there are so many things in which painting may be of use, that it seems to me that peace is obtained with so much labour of arms, for nothing else but in order to do her work, and carry out enterprises with the quiet which she merits and demands, after the great services she has rendered in war. For what name will remain alive in consequence of a great victory or a great feat of arms, if afterwards, when quiet comes, it be not kept in perpetual memory (a thing so important and necessary amongst men), by virtue of painting and architecture, in arches, triumphs and tombs, and in many other ways. And Augustus Caesar departed not from my saying when, during the universal peace in all lands, he closed the doors of the Temple of Janus, because in closing those doors of iron he opened the doors of gold of the treasures of the Empire, in order to spend more largely in peace than he had done even in war; and perhaps amongst such ambitious and magnificent works as those with which he ornamented Mount Palatine and the Forum, he paid as much for a figure in painting as he would have paid to a regiment of soldiers in a month. So that the peace of great princes should be desired in order that they may give their country great works in painting for the ornamentation of their estate and their glory, and receive from them spiritual and special contentments and beautiful things to behold."

"I do not know, Senhor Michael," said I, "how you will prove to me that Augustus paid as much for a painted figure as he would pay to a regiment of soldiers for a month; if you were to say that in Spain it would be more difficult to believe you, than if you said that there were such bad painters in Italy that they painted the Emperor with the legs of a crab and with the label, _Plus ultra_!"

Senhor Michael laughed once more, without the Marchioness, and afterwards said:

"I well know that in Spain people do not pay so well for painting as in Italy, and therefore you will be surprised at the great sums paid for it, as you are only accustomed to small sums; and I have been well informed of this by a Portuguese servant that I had, and therefore painters live and exist here, and not in the Spains. Of the Spaniards, the finest nobility in the whole world, you will find some who applaud and praise and like painting to a certain extent, but on pressing them further, they have no mind to order even a small work, nor to pay for it; and, what I consider baser still they are astonished when they are told that there are persons in Italy who give good prices for paintings; indeed, in my judgment they do not act in this like such noble people as they say they are, even though it were for nothing else but not to undervalue that which they have no experience of and cannot do; it recoils on their own head, however, they demean themselves and disgrace the nobility of which they boast; and not indeed that virtue, which will always be esteemed so long as there are men here in Italy and in this city. And for this reason a painter ought not to desire to be away from this land in which we are; and you, M. Francisco d'Ollanda, if you hope to be appreciated through the art of painting in Spain or in Portugal, I tell you at once that you are living in a vain and false hope, and that in my judgment you ought rather to live in France or in Italy, where talent is recognised and great painting is much esteemed, because you will find here private persons and gentlemen, even those who at present do not take much pleasure in painting, as for instance Andrea Doria, who nevertheless had his palace painted magnificently, and magnificently paid Master Perino his painter; and like Cardinal Fernes, who does not know what painting is, but who made a very nice allowance to the said Master Perino, merely to call him his painter, giving him twenty 'cruzados' per month and rations for him and for a horse and servant, besides paying him very well for his works. See what Cardinal Della Valla or Cardinal de Cesis did. Likewise Pope Paul, who, although not very musical nor interested in painting, yet treats me well, and at least better than I ask; and then there is Urbino, my servant, to whom he gives solely for grinding my colour ten 'cruzados' a month besides rations in the palace. I say nothing of his vain favours and kindnesses, of which I sometimes feel ashamed. Now, what shall I say of the diverting Sebastian Veneziano? to whom (although he did not come at a favourable time) the Pope gave the Leaden Seal, with the honour and profit which appertain to that office, without the lazy painter having painted more than two things in Rome, which will not astonish Senhor Francisco much. So that in this our country, even those who do not esteem painting greatly, pay for it much better than those who are greatly delighted with it in Spain or Portugal; and therefore I advise you as a son that you ought not to depart from Italy, because I fear that if you do you will repent it."

"I thank, you, Senhor Michael Angelo, for your advice," I said to him, "but still I am serving the King of Portugal, and in Portugal I was born and hope to die, and not in Italy. But as you make such a difference in the value of painting in Italy and in Spain, do me the favour of teaching me how painting ought to be valued, because I am in this matter so scandalised that I do not trust myself to value any work."

"What do you call valuing?" he replied. "Do you wish the painting which we are discussing to be paid for according to a valuation, or do you think that any one knows how to value it? for I consider that work to be worth a great price which has been done by the hand of a very capable man, even though in a short time; if it were done in a very long time who will know how to value it? And I hold that to be of very little value which has been painted in many years by a person who does not know how to paint, although he be called a painter; for works ought not to be esteemed because of the amount of time employed and lost in the labour, but because of the merit of the knowledge and of the hand which did them; for if it were not so, they would not pay more to a lawyer for an hour's examination of an important case, than to a weaver for as much cloth as he may weave during the course of his whole life, or to a navvy who is bathed in sweat the whole day by his work. By such variation nature is beautiful, and that valuation is very foolish which is made by one who does not understand the good or the bad in the work: some paintings worth little are valued highly, and others, which are worth more, do not even pay for the care with which they are done or for the discomfort that the painter himself experiences when he knows that such persons have to value his work, or for the exceeding disgust he feels asking for payment from an unappreciative treasurer.

"It does not seem to me that the ancient painters were content with your Spanish payments and valuations; and I certainly think they were not, for we find that some were so magnificently liberal that, knowing that there was not sufficient money in the country to pay for their works, they presented them liberally for nothing, having spent on such work, labour of their mind, time and money. Such were Zeuxis, Heracleotes and Polygnotus Thasius and others. And there were others of a more impatient nature who used to waste and break up the works that they had done with so much trouble and study, on seeing that they were not paid for as they deserved; like the painter who was commanded by Caesar to paint a picture, and having asked a sum of money for it that Caesar would not give, perhaps in order to effect his intention the better, the painter took the picture and was about to break it up, his wife and children around him bemoaning such great loss; but Caesar then delighted him, in a manner proper to a Caesar, giving him double the sum which he had previously asked, telling him that he was a fool if he expected to vanquish Caesar."

"Now, Senhor Michael," said Joao Capata, a Spaniard, "one thing I cannot understand in the art of painting: it is customary at times to paint, as one sees in many places in this city, a thousand monsters and animals, some of them with faces of women and with legs and with tails of fishes, and others with arms like tigers' legs, and others with men's faces; in short, painting that which most delights the painter and which was never seen in the world."

"I am pleased," said Michael, "to tell you why it is usual to paint that which was never seen in the world, and how right such licence is, and how true it is, for some who do not understand him are accustomed to say that Horace, a lyric poet, wrote this verse in abuse of painters:

Pictoribus adque poetis Quidlibet audendi semper fuit acqua potestas. Scimus et hanc veniam petimusque damusque vicissim.

This verse does not in any way insult painters, but rather praises and honours them; for it says that poets and painters have power to dare, I mean to dare to do whatever they may approve of; and this good insight and this power they have always had, for whenever a great painter (which very seldom happens) does a work which appears to be false and lying, that falsity is very true, and if he were to put more truth into it it would be a lie, as he will never do a thing which cannot be in itself, nor make a man's hand with ten fingers, nor paint on a horse the ears of a bull or the hump of a camel, nor will he paint the foot of an elephant with the same feeling as for that of a horse, nor in the arm or face of a child will he put the senses of an old man, nor an ear nor an eye out of its place by as much as the thickness of a finger, nor is he even permitted to place a hidden vein in an arm anywhere he likes; for such things as these are very false. But should he, in order better to retain the decorum of the place and time, alter some of the limbs (as in grotesque work, which without that would indeed be without grace and therefore false) or a part of one thing into another species such as to change a griffin or a deer from the middle downwards into a dolphin, or from thence upwards into any figure he may wish, putting wings instead of arms, putting off arms if wings suit it better, that limb which he changes, whether of a lion, horse or bird, will be quite perfect of the species to which it belongs; and this although it may appear false can only be called well imagined and monstrous. The reason is it is better decoration when, in painting, some monstrosity is introduced for variety and a relaxation of the senses and to attract the attention of mortal eyes, which at times desire to see that which they have never yet seen, nor does it appear to them that it can be more unreasonable (although very admirable) than the usual figures of men or animals. And so it is that insatiable human desire took licence and neglected at times buildings with columns and windows and doors for others imitated in false grotesque, the columns of which are made of children springing from the leaves of flowers, with the architraves and summit of branches of myrtle and gates of canes and other things, which appear to be very impossible and out of reason, and yet all this is very grand if done by one who understands it."

He ended, and I said:

"Does it not seem to you, Senhor, that this feigned work is much more suitable for ornament in its proper place (such as a country seat or a pleasure house) rather than, for instance, a procession of friars, which is a very natural thing, or a King David doing penance, is it not a great insult to drag him from his oratory? And does not the god Pan playing on the pipes, or a woman with the tail of a fish and wings (which is seldom seen), appear to you to be a more suitable painting for a garden or for a fountain? And it is a much greater falsity to put an imagination in a place where the real is demanded, and this reasoning explains all the things which some call 'impossibilities' in painting. Still the obstinate will say: 'How can a woman with a beautiful face have the tail of a fish and the legs of the swift deer or panther, with wings on her back like an angel?' To such one may however reply that if such nonconformity is in just proportion in all its parts it is quite in harmony and is very natural; and that much praise is due to the painter who painted a thing which was never seen and is so impossible, with such wit and judgment that it seems to be alive and possible, so that men wish that such things did exist in the world, and say that they could pluck feathers from those wings and that it is moving hands and eyes. And so one who paints (as a book said) a hare which, in order to be distinguished from the dog following it, required a label indicating it, such a person, painting a thing so little deceitful, may be said to paint a great falsehood, more difficult to find amongst the perfect works of nature than a beautiful woman with the tail of a fish and wings."

They agreed with what I said, even Joao Capata himself, who was not well instructed in the beauties of painting. And Master Michael, seeing that his conversation was not badly employed on us, said:

"Now what a high thing is decorum in painting! and how little the painters who are no painters try to observe it! and what attention the great man pays to this!"

"And are there painters who are not painters?" asked Joao Capata."

"In many places," answered the painter, "but as the majority of people are without sense and always love that which they ought to abhor, and blame that which deserves most praise, it is not very surprising that they are so constantly mistaken about painting, an art worthy only of great understandings, because without any discretion or reason, and without making any difference, they call a painter both the person who has nothing more than the oils and brushes of painting and the illustrious painter who is not born in the course of many years (which I consider to be a very great thing); and as there are some who are called painters and are not painters, so there is also painting which is not painting, for they did it. And what is marvellous is that a bad painter neither can nor knows how to imagine, nor does he even desire to do good painting, his work mostly differs but little from his imagination, which is generally somewhat worse; for if he knew how to imagine well or in a masterly manner in his fantasy, he could not have a hand so corrupt as not to show some part or indication of his good will. But no one has ever known how to aspire well in this science, except the mind which understands what good work is, and what he can make of it. It is a serious thing, this distance and difference which exist between the high and the low understanding in painting."

At this point M. Lactancio, who had not spoken for some time, said:

"I cannot suffer at all one indiscretion of bad painters, the images which they paint without consideration or devotion in the churches. And I should like to direct our discussion to this end, being sure that the carelessness with which some paint the holy images cannot be good. Work which a very incapable painter or man dares to do, without any fear, so ignorantly that instead of moving mortals to devotion and tears, he sometimes provokes them to laughter."

"This sort of painting is a great undertaking," proceeded M. Angelo; "in order to imitate to some extent the venerable image of our Lord it is not sufficient merely to be a great master in painting and very wise, but I think that it is necessary for the painter to be very good in his mode of life, or even, if such were possible, a saint, so that the Holy Spirit may inspire his intellect. And we read that Alexander the Great put a heavy penalty upon any painter other than Apelles who should paint him, for he considered that man alone able to paint his appearance with that severity and liberal mind which could not be seen without being praised by the Greeks and feared and adored by the barbarians. And therefore if a poor man of this earth so commanded by edict concerning his image, how much more reason have the ecclesiastical or secular princes to take care to order that no one shall paint the benignity and meekness of our Redeemer or the purity of Our Lady and the Saints but the most illustrious painters to be found in their domains and provinces? And this would be a very famous and much praised work in any lord. And even in the Old Testament God the Father wished that those who only had to ornament and paint the _arca foederis_ should be masters not merely excellent and great, but also touched by His grace and wisdom, God saying to Moses that He would imbue them with the knowledge and intelligence of His Spirit so that they might invent and do everything that He could invent and do. And therefore if God the Father willed that the ark of His Covenant should be well ornamented and painted, how much more study and consideration must He wish applied to the imitation of His Serene Face and that of His Son our Lord, and of the composure, chastity and beauty of the glorious Virgin Mary, who was painted by St. Luke the Evangelist, the work is in the Sancto Sanctorum, and the head of our Saviour which is in San Giovanni in Laterano, as we all know, and especially Messer Francisco. Frequently the images badly painted distract and cause devotion to be lost, at least in those who possess little; and, on the contrary, those that are divinely painted provoke and lead even those who are little devout and but little inclined to worship to contemplation and tears, and by their grave aspect imbue them with reverence and fear."

M. Lactancio then said, having turned towards me:

"Why did M. Angelo say of the picture of the Saviour, 'as we all know and especially Messer Francisco'?"

I answered: "Because, Senhor, he has already met me two or three times on the road to San Giovanni Laterano, going to obtain His grace for my salvation."

And I thereupon wished to cease speaking, but he desiring me to continue, I recommenced thus:

"Senhor, the Most Serene Queen of Portugal, being desirous of seeing the precious face of Our Saviour, ordered our ambassador to have it drawn from the original, but I, not trusting this to anybody, wished, with the desire that I have to serve her, to dare to undertake this enterprise myself, for it is very fine as regards execution and no less as regards accuracy. And thus I have sent it to her, done under such difficulties as Your Excellencies can suspect."

"You cannot be a friend of the Lady Marchioness," said Joao Capata," for you did not show her a thing which is so much to her liking; but tell me, Messer Francisco, did you do it with that severe simplicity which the old painting has and with that fear in those divine eyes which in the original seem to belong to the very Saviour?"

"I did it that way," I said to him, "and in it I desired to put all the truth, neither to increase nor diminish anything of that grave severity. But I fear that this, which was my greatest work, will be the one the least known."

"No it will not," answered M. Lactancio Tolomei, "as in that they will trust to your knowledge, and it will be an image which will lead them to build a noble temple for it. I am astonished at your being able to reproduce and send it, for neither the Popes nor the Brothers of San Giovanni Laterano ever allowed the King of France or other devout princesses to do so."

Then M. Angelo said:

"It is astonishing how M. Francisco worked, and how he robbed Rome of this precious relic, and how he painted it in oils, although in all his life he had never been a painter in oils, and only made pictures hitherto easily contained on a small parchment."

"How can it be," said M. Lactancio, "that one who never painted in oils is capable of doing it, and that one who has always done little things can also do big ones?"

And as I did not reply, Michael Angelo answered him:

"Do not be surprised, sir, and as regards this I wish now to state my views about the noble art of painting. Let every man who is here understand this well: design, which by another name is called drawing, and consists of it, is the fount and body of painting and sculpture and architecture and of every other kind of painting, and the root of all sciences. Let whoever may have attained to so much as to have the power of drawing know that he holds a great treasure; he will be able to make figures higher than any tower, either in colours or carved from the block, and he will not be able to find a wall or enclosure which does not appear circumscribed and small to his brave imagination. And he will be able to paint in fresco in the manner of old Italy, with all the mixtures and varieties of colour usually employed in it. He will be able to paint in oils very suavely with more knowledge, daring and patience than painters. And, finally, on a small piece of parchment he will be most perfect and great, as in all other manners of painting. Because great, very great is the power of design and drawing. Senhor Francisco d'Ollanda can paint, if he wishes, everything that he knows how to draw."

"I will not ask again about another doubt," said M. Lactancio, "because I dare not."

"Please to dare, Your Excellency," said Michael Angelo, "for as we have already sacrificed the day to painting, let us likewise offer up the night which is setting in."

He then said: "I wish finally to know what this painting that is so fine and rare must possess or what it is? Whether there must be tourneys painted, or battles, or kings and emperors covered with brocade, or well-dressed damsels, or landscapes and fields and towns? Or whether perchance it must be some angel or some saint painted and the actual form of this world? Or what must it be? Whether it must be done with gold or with silver, whether with very fine tints or with very brilliant ones?"

"Painting," M. Angelo began, "is not such a great work as any of those which you have mentioned, sir, only the painting which I so much vaunt and praise will be the imitation of some single thing amongst those which immortal God made with great care and knowledge and which He invented and painted, like to a Master: and so downwards, whether animals or birds, dispensing perfection according as each thing merits it. And in my judgment that is the excellent and divine painting which is most like and best imitates any work of immortal God, whether a human figure, or a wild and strange animal, or a simple and easy fish, or a bird of the air or any other creature. And this neither with gold nor silver nor with very fine tints, but drawn only with a pen or a pencil, or with a brush in black and white. To imitate perfectly each of these things in its species seems to me to be nothing else but to desire to imitate the work of immortal God. And yet that thing will be the most noble and perfect in the works of painting which in itself reproduced the thing which is most noble and of the greatest delicacy and knowledge. And what barbarous judge is there that cannot understand that the foot of a man is more noble than his shoe? His skin than that of the sheep from which his clothes are made? And who from this will proceed to find the merit and degree in everything? But I do not mean that, because a cat or a wolf is vile, the man who paints them skilfully has not as much merit as one who paints a horse, or the body of a lion, as even (as I have said above) in the simple shape of a fish there is the same perfection and proportion as in the form of man, and I may say the same of all the world itself with all its cities. But all must be ranked according to the work and study which one demands more than another, and this should be taught to some ignorant persons who have said that some painters painted faces well but that they could not paint anything else. Others have said that in Flanders they painted clothes and trees extremely well, and some have maintained that in Italy they paint the nude and symmetry or proportions better. And of others they say other things. But my opinion is that he who knows how to draw well and merely does a foot or a hand or a neck, can paint everything created in the world; and yet there are painters who paint everything there is in the world so imperfectly and so much without worth that it would be better not to do it at all. One recognises the knowledge of a great man in the fear with which he does a thing the more he understands it. And on the contrary, the ignorance of others in the foolhardy daring with which they fill pictures with what they know nothing about. There may be an excellent master who has never painted more than a single figure, and without painting anything more deserves more renown and honour than those who have painted a thousand pictures: he knows better how to do what he has not done than the others know what they do.

"And not only is this as I tell you, but there is another wonder which seems greater, namely, that if a capable man merely makes a simple outline, like a person about to begin something, he will at once be known by it--if Apelles, as Apelles; if an ignorant painter, as an ignorant painter. And there is no necessity for more, neither more time, nor more experience, nor examination, for eyes which understand it and for those who know that by a single straight line Apelles was distinguished from Protogenes, immortal Greek painters."

And Michael Angelo having stopped, I proceeded:

"It is also a great thing that a great master, although he may wish and work hard to do so, cannot so change or injure his hand as to paint something appearing to have been done by an apprentice, for whoever carefully examines such a thing, will find in it some sign by which he will know that it was done by the hand of a skilful person. And on the contrary, one who knows little, although he may endeavour to do the smallest thing so that it may appear to have been done by a great man, will have his trouble in vain, because immediately, when placed beside the work of a great man, it will be recognised as having been done by a prentice hand. But I should like now to know something more from Senhor Michael Angelo, to see whether he agrees with my opinion, and that is that he should tell me whether it is better to paint a work quickly or slowly?"

And he answered:

"I will tell you: to do anything quickly and swiftly is very profitable and good, and it is a gift received from the immortal God to do in a few hours what another is painting during many days; for if it were not so Pausias of Sicyon would not work so hard in order to paint in one day the perfection of a child in a picture. If he who paints quickly does not on that account paint worse than one who paints slowly, he deserves therefore much greater praise. But should he through the hurry of his hand pass the limits which it is not right to pass in art, he ought rather to paint more slowly and studiously; for an excellent and skilful man is not entitled to allow his taste to err through his haste when thereby some part is forgotten or neglected of the great object perfection, which is what must be always sought; hence it is not a vice to work a little slowly or even to be very slow, nor to spend much time and care on works, if this be done for more perfection; only the want of knowledge is a defect.

"And I wish to tell you, Francisco d'Ollanda, of an exceedingly great beauty in this science of ours, of which perhaps you are aware, and which I think you consider the highest, namely, that what one has most to work and struggle for in painting is to do the work with a great amount of labour and study in such a way that it may afterwards appear, however much it was laboured, to have been done almost quickly and almost without any labour, and very easily, although it was not. And this is a very excellent beauty, at times some things are done with little work in the way I have said, but very seldom: most are done by dint of hard work and appear to have been done very quickly.

"But Plutarch says in his book _De Liberis educandis_, that a poor painter showed Apelles what he was doing, telling him: 'This painting has just this moment been done by my hand,' Apelles answered: 'Even if you had not said so I should have known that it was by your hand and that it was done quickly, and I am surprised that you do not do many of them every day.'

"However I should prefer (if one had either to err or be correct) to err or be correct quickly rather than slowly, and that my painter should rather paint diligently and a little less well than one who is very slow, painting better, but not much better.

"But now I wish to know this of you, M. Francisco, to see whether you agree with my opinion, namely, that you should tell me if there are many different ways of painting almost of equal goodness; which of them will you consider the worst, or which of them are bad?"

"That is still a greater question," I replied, "Senhor Michael, than the one I put to you; but just as Mother Nature has produced in one place men and animals, and in another place men and animals, all made according to one art and proportion, and yet very different to each other, so it is, almost miraculously, with the hands of painters, as you will find many great men each of whom paints in his own manner and style men and women and animals, their styles greatly differing, and yet they all of them retain the same proportions and principles; and yet all these different styles may be good and worthy of being praised in their differences. For in Rome Polidoro, a painter, had a very different style to that of Balthazar, of Siena; M. Perino different from that of Julius, of Mantua; Martorino did not resemble Parmesano; Cavalliere Tiziano in Venice was softer than Leonardo da Vinci; the sprightliness of Raphael of Urbino and his softness does not resemble the work of Bastiao Veneziano; your work does not resemble any other; nor is my small talent similar to any other. And although the famous ones whom I have mentioned have the light and shade, the design and the colours different from each other, they are none the less all great and famous men, and each distinguished by his difference and style, and their works very worthy of being valued at almost the same price, because each of them worked to imitate Nature and perfection in the manner that he considered to be the most proper, and his own, and in accordance with his idea and intention."

And this said, we rose and went away as it was already night.

THE WORKS OF MICHAEL ANGELO

The Rape of Deianira, or the Battle of the Centaurs, a bas-relief, 1490. Casa Buonarroti, Florence.

The Angel of the Shrine of Saint Dominic, a marble statuette, 1494. San Domenico, Bologna.

The Bacchus, a marble statue, 1497. National Museum, Florence.

The Madonna della Pieta, a marble group, 1499. St. Peter's, Rome.

The David, a colossal marble statue, 1504. Accademia della Belle Arti, Florence.

St. Matthew, an unfinished heroic marble statue. The Court of the Accademia delle Belle Arti, Florence.

The Madonna and Child, marble statue, 1506. St. Bavon, Bruges.

The Madonna and Child, a tondo, marble bas-relief, unfinished. National Museum, Florence.

The Madonna and Child, a tondo, marble bas-relief, unfinished. The Diploma Gallery of the Royal Academy, London.

The Holy Family, a tondo, painted on wood. No. 1139, The Uffizi, Florence.

The Moses, a heroic marble statue. San Pietro in Vincoli, Rome.

The Vault of the Sistine Chapel, ceiling frescoes, 1512. Vatican, Rome.

The Madonna and Infant Christ, St. John the Baptist and Angels, an unfinished painting on wood by Bugiardini, the Cartoon alone by Michael Angelo. No. 809, The National Gallery, London.

The Risen Christ, a marble statue, 1521. Santa Maria Sopra Minerva, Rome.

The Tombs of Lorenzo dei Medici, Duke of Urbino and Giuliano, Duc de Nemours, heroic marble statues, the figures of Day and Evening and the architecture left unfinished by the master in 1534. New Sacristy, San Lorenzo, Florence.

The Madonna and Child, heroic marble statue. New Sacristy, San Lorenzo, Florence.

Four Slaves, unfinished heroic marble statues. The Grotto of the Boboli Gardens, Florence.

The Apollo, an unfinished marble statue. The National Museum, Florence.

The Leda, a painting, damaged and restored as to the head, arms, and shoulder, 1529. Offices of the National Gallery, London.

The Slaves, two heroic marble statues. Room of Renaissance Sculpture, the Louvre, Paris.

The Brutus, an unfinished marble bust. The National Museum, Florence.

The Day of Judgment, fresco, 1541. The Sistine Chapel, Vatican, Rome.

The Entombment of our Lord, an unfinished painting on wood, the figures of our Lord and the men very much repainted, the three women and the background by the master. No. 790, the National Gallery, London.

The Martyrdom of St. Peter, a fresco, 1549. Cappella Paolina, Vatican, Rome.

The Conversion of St. Paul, a fresco, 1549. Cappella Paolina, Vatican, Rome.

The Pieta of Santa Maria del Fiore, a marble group. The Duomo, Florence.

A LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL BOOKS CONSULTED BY THE AUTHOR

BERENSON, BERNHARD. The Florentine Painters of the Renaissance. London and New York, 1896.

BLACK, CHARLES CHRISTOPHER. Michael Angelo Buonarroti, Sculptor, Painter and Architect. London, 1875.

CELLINI, BENVENUTO. Vita di, Scritta da lui Medesimo. Firenze, 1885.

CLEMENT, CHARLES. Michelangelo. London, 1880.

CONDIVI, ASCANIO. Vita di Michelangelo Buonarroti, Scritta da A.C. suo discepolo. Pisa, 1746. First edition Roma, 1553.

GOTTI, AURELIO. Vita di Michelangelo Buonarroti. Firenze, 1875.

HASENCLEVER, SOPHIE. Saumtliche Gedichte Michelangelo's. Leipzic, 1875.

HOLLANDA, FRANCESCO DE. Quatro Diologos da Pintura Antigua, La Renascenca Portugueza. Porto, 1896.

MILANESI, GAETANO; and LE DOCTEUR A LE PILEUR. Les Correspondants de Michel-Ange, i Sebastiano del Piombo. Librairie de l'Art. Paris, 1890.

MILANESI, GAETANO. Le Lettre di Michelangelo Buonarroti, publicate coi Ricordi ed i Contratti Artistici. Firenze, 1875.

SYMONDS, JOHN ADDINGTON. The Life of Michelangelo Buonarroti. London, 1893. The Sonnets of Michael Angelo Buonarroti and Tomaso Campanella. London, 1878.

VASARI, GIORGIO. Le Vite de' pin eccellenti Pittori, Scultori et Architetti. Bologna, 1647. And first edition, Firenze, 1550. Second edition, Firenze, 1558.

WILSON, CHARLES HEATH. Life and Works of Michelangelo Buonarroti. London, 1881.

ERRATUM

Page 27, note 1, line 2, _for_ 1831, _read_ 1873

INDEX

Abel, 44

Academy: Florence, 117, 260

Accursio: a messenger from Julius II., 51

Active Life; The Tomb of Julius II., 68, 225, 226, 227

Adam: Sistine Chapel, 13, note; 43, 163, 165, 171-175

Adonis, 129, 229

Adrian IV.: Pope 54, 190

Aginense: Cardinal, 51, 52, 146

Agnolo: Herald of Florence, 135

Agnolo: _see_ Doni

Agostino: _see_ Duccio

Agostino: San, the Isaiah of Raphael at, 177

Agnolo di Donnino: assistant, 151

Alberigo: Marchese, 52

Alberto: _see_ Duerer

Albertina: Vienna, 193

Albertini: his statement, 164

Albizzi: Anton Francesco degli, portrait by Sebastiano, 197

Alcibiades, 87

Aldobrandini: sword-hilt designed for, 136

Aldovrandi: Gian Francesco, his kindness to the master, 18

Aldovrandi: Ulisse, sees a statue of Apollo, 108

Alessandro da Carnossa, 3, note

Alessandro de' Medici: Duke, his ill-will to the master, 59, 60, 62; flight, 201; 250, 305

Alexander the Great, 285, 286, 309, 320

Alexander VI.: Pope, 29

Alfonso: Duke of Ferrara, 60, 61, 204

Alva: Duke of, 265

Aman, 45

Amanati: _see_ Bartolomeo

Ambrosio: Brother, 272-274; 289, 306

Anatomy: studies at Santo Spirito, 16; of animals as well as man, 75; dissection and a treatise upon it, 81

Ancestors of Christ: Sistine Chapel, 166, 169, 177

Andrea del Sarto, 103, note; studies the Cartoon, 127, 224

Angel: for the Shrine of San Domenico, 19, 104

Angelico: Fra, 219

Angeli: S.M. degli, 251

Anna: the Beautiful, 293

Antonio: a servant, successor to Urbino, 236, 258

Antonio: Maria da Legnia, 145

Antonio: San, copy, 7, 97; Cartoon for Mineghella, 264

Antonio: _see_ Mini

Apelles, 278, 309; 320, 325, 326

Apollo: in the Bargello, 204, 228

Arcadelt: Giacomo, sets the master's madrigals to music, 207

Aretino, 222, 283

Arezzo: fortifications at, 202

Arno, 193; and _see_ Cartoon

Arrigo Fiamingo: fresco, Sistine Chapel, 167

Ascanio: _see_ Condivi

Assumption: by Daniele, with a portrait of the master, 253

Assunta: oratory of, 260

Athletes: Sistine Chapel, 13, note; 164, 167, 168, 173-178, 211

Athens, 156

Attalante, 146

Avignon, 293

Bacchus: carved in Rome, 24, 107, 108

Baccio d'Agnolo, 116

Baglioni: the traitor, 203

Baldassare: _see_ Peruzzi

Baldassari: del Milanese, buys the god of Love, 21

Bandinelli: Baccio, studies the Cartoon, 126; Hercules and Cacus, 204, 270, 295

Bandini: Francesco, 236, 246

Baptistry: Florence, 255

Bargello: Florence, mask of a faun, 11; Tondo, 121, 129; Apollo, 205, 228; Brutus, 249

Bartolomei: Messer, 231

Bartolomeo: Amanati, letter to, 238

Bartolommea: widow of Buonarroto, 201

Bas-relief: Florentine love of, 121

Bassano, 174

Bathers: _see_ Cartoon

Battista Benti: carves details in the Tomb of Julius II., 226

Battista del Cinque: carpenter, 197

Batista Lorenzi, 253, 262

Beatrice: of Mantua, 3

Beaumont: Sir George, presents a tondo to the Royal Academy, 121

Belvedere: works ordered by Julius III., 78

Beinbo, 76

Bene: Benedetto, copies the Leda, 204

Bentivogli: law, 18; return to Bologna, 40, 141

Benvenuto: _see_ Cellini

Bernardo Cencio: Canon of St. Peter's, 180, 181

Bernardo da Bibbiena, 146

Bernardo della Ciecha, 116

Berlin, 106

Bertoldo: the master of Michael Angelo in Sculpture, 99, 100, 102

Berugetta: Alonso, 126

Biagio da Cesena: objects to nude figures, 222

Bibbiena: Cardinal, rebukes Cardieri, l7

Bible: the master's study, 86; of Raphael, 173

Bini: Bernardo, trustee for the Tomb, 51, 69

Blois: Chateau, 251

Boboli Gardens: the grotto with four statues, 129, 227

Boccaccio, 19

Bologna: flight to, 18-20; with Julius II. at, 39, 40; conversations at, 90, 132; the Colossal Bronze destroyed, 141, 171, 195, 291

Bonasoni: Giulio, engravings, a Pieta, 230; portrait of the master, 253

Bonifazio: Count, 3

Bononiensis: Tudius, engraves a Pieta, 230

Boon companions: of the master, 264

Borgerini: Pier Francesco, 182

Borghini: Don Vincenzo, opens the coffin, 261

Borgia: Cesare, _see_ Valentino

Borgo, 178, 238

Botticelli: Sandro, letter addressed to him, 23, 107, 116; Popes and histories by, 166

Bramante: destroys S. Petronilla, 25; Tomb of Julius, 31; his errors, 32; rebuilding of S. Peter's, 34; suggests the painting of the vault, 41; and Raphael to finish it, 47; his shortcomings, 48; scaffold, 82; has the Pope's ear in Rome, 130; vault painting, 131, 164; "a brave architect," 238, 240-242, 295

Brancacci Chapel: _see_ Masaccio

Brazen Serpent: Sistine Chapel, 46; 178

British Museum: drawings, advice to Mini, 192; for the tombs, 193

Bronze-coloured figures: Sistine Chapel, 169

Brothers of the master: _see_ Buonarroto, Giovan Simone, Sigismondo

Bruciolo: invites the master to Venice, 78

Bruges, 29, 121

Brunelleschi: the lantern of, 192; his dome, 208

Brutus: bust of, Bargello, 249; nickname of Lorenzino, 250

Buggiardini: Giuliano assistant, 150, 155; paints the master's portrait, and a Madonna and Child from a cartoon of the master's, 157, 158, 252, 264

Buonarroti: _see_ Michael Angelo

Buonarroti: Casa, bas-reliefs in, 102; 104; presented to Florence, 105; wax models of the David, 118

Buonarroti: Senator Filippo, 203

Buonarroto: brother of the master, 4; established in business, 109, 151, 152; letters to, 133, 134, 136, 141, 161, 181; his health, 165; dies of the plague in the master's arms, 201

Buoninsegna: Domenico, 183

Cain, 44

Calcagni: _see_ Tiberio

Camerino: Duke of, writes to the master, 217

Campidoglio: plans of the master, 248; his portrait there, 253, 270, 305

Campo Santo: Pisa, 219, 220

Canossa, 3-5

Capata: Joao, 306, 307, 310, 316, 318, 321

Capitol: _see_ Campidoglio

Capponi: Niccolo, 201

Caprese: the master born at, 5

Cardiere: improvisatore, his dream, 16, 17

Carlino: chamberlain, 147

Carlo degli Albizzi, 147

Caro: Annibal, 76, 85

Carota: woodcarver, 197

Carpi: Cardinal, 246

Carrara, 30, 52, 53, 183, 185, 190, 192

Cartoon of Pisa, 37, 124, 125; Vasari's account, 126; Cellini's, 127

Cassandra Ridolfi: marries Leonardo, 254

Caterina: Santa, 31

Catherine de' Medici: letter from, 251

Cavalcani, 24

Cavalcanti: altar of, 261

Cavalieri: Tomaso dei, a friend, 85; drawings for, 230; letter from, 231, 246, 248, 258, 259

Cellini: Benvenuto, 91, 92, 118; describes the Cartoon, 127, 202, 252, 255

Centaurs: battle of, _see_ Deianira

Cesena: Bishop of, 85

Charles: the Emperor, 309, 310, 312

Charon, 71

Chigi, 292

Chiostro Verde: S.M. Novella, 173

Christ: on the Cross, modelled for Mineghella, 264; taken down from the Cross, Vittoria Colonna, 85; the Risen, in the Minerva, 74, 180, 181, 187-189; a statuette, 259

Ciapino: carpenter, 197

Cioli: _see_ Valerio

Clement VII: Pope, 10; Medici Library, 54; clemency, 58; Medici Tombs, 59; recalls the master to Rome, 60, 64; orders the Day of Judgment, 64, 78; the New Sacristy, 186; elected Pope, 190-192, 195; his postscript, 197; and curious commission, 198; besieged in St. Angelo, 200; anger abates, 203, 207, 231, 277, 292, 308

Colombo: Realdo, anatomist, 81

Colonna: Vittoria, Marchioness of Pescara, poetry, 76; a Christ made for her, 74; the master is enamoured of her divine spirit, 85; visits her death-bed, 85; drawings and sonnets for her, 230, 234; conversations at St. Silvester, 271-304, 306-308, 312

Colossus: a proposed, 198, 199

Condivi: Ascanio della Ripa, the Life by, 3-93, 163, 164

Connetable: de Montmorenci, and the Slaves, 227

Consiglio: a mercer, 110, 111

Consiglio: Cartoon for the Sala del, 37

Constantinople: the designs to throw a bridge from Pera to, 37; is invited to, 78

Contemplative Life: Tomb of Julius II., 28, 225-227

Contracts: for the Madonna della Pieta of St. Peter's, 112; the David, 115; and the Risen Christ, 180, 181

Conversion of St. Paul, 232

Cornelia: wife of Urbino, 256

Correggio: perfected Melozzo's method, 131, 172

Cortono: Cardinal, 201

Cosimo: _see_ Medici

Cosmo: St., 194

Creation: the, 164, 165, 167, 170; of Eve, 171, 175, 291; of man, _see_ Adam

Creator: the, Sistine Chapel, 43, 44, 171

Crispo: Cardinal, 84

Croce: _see_ Santa Croce

Cronaca: Il, 116, 120

Crucifixion: in wood for Santo Spirito, 16; drawings, 234; by Daniele, 253

Cuio: Capitano, the master sups with, 197

Cupid: _see_ Love

Damino: St., 194

Dandolo: Marco, opinion of Baglioni, 203

Daniele da Volterra, 223, 251-253; writes for the master and acts as executor, 257-259, 263

Dante, 19, 68, 71; the master's special devotion to, 86, 184, 220

Danti: Vincenzio, 229

David and Goliath: Sistine Chapel, 46, 178

David: the bronze, 28, 119; sent to France, 120

David: the colossal statue, 27, 114; the contract, 115; contemporary account of the transport, 116; removed to the Academy, 117

Dawn: marble statue in the New Sacristy, 172, 194, 203, 209, 211, 214, 293.

Day: marble statue in the New Sacristy, 58, 194, 203, 209, 212

Day of Judgment: Sistine Chapel, 45, 166, 183; the fresco begun, 216; shown to the public, 219; described, 219; copies in the Corsini Palace, 222, and in the Naples Museum, 253

Death: the master's sayings on, 236, 236

Deianira: the rape of, a bas-relief, 14, 103

Deliverances of the Chosen People, 166, 169, 178

Delphic Sibyl, 174

Deluge: _see_ Flood

Demosthenes, 75, 298

Deposition: _see_ Pieta

Design: the power of, 295-298, 308-311, 322.

Desnoyers: orders the destruction of the Leda, 62, 204

Diocletian: the Baths of, a restoration, 251

Diognetus, 286

Diomede Leoni: letter to Leonardo, 257

Dionigi: Cardinal di, orders a Pieta, 25, 112

Diploma Gallery: Burlington House, the tondo, 121

Divina Commedia: the master's drawings for, 184

Dome of St. Peter's, 208, 233, 246

Domenico: _see_ Ghirlandaio

Domenico: San, Bologna, The Angel for the Shrine, 19, 104

Donatello: praised by the master, 28, who comes under the influence of his foreman, 99, 106; St. George, and Judith, 117; his influence, 118, 170, 178, 295

Donati: Federigo, physician, 258

Donato: _see_ Giannoti

Doni: Agnolo, the tondo painted for, 29, 122

Doria: Andrea, project for his statue 190; his portrait by Sebastiano, 191, 291, 313

Dosso, 290

Drawing: Ghirlandaio's book, 8; copies of old masters, 9; for the tombs of the Medici, 193; its power, 295-297; in war, 308, and in peace, 311, 322

Duccio: Agostino, and the block of marble, 27

Duke of Florence, 246, 248, 250, 259, 260, 262

Duoino of Florence: the shadow of, 127, 208; the Pieta, placed under, 236

Duerer: Albert, 29, 81, 281

Ecouen: the slaves at, 227

Enrico II., 3

Epiphany: a cartoon, 260

Ercole: Don, captain of Florence, 61

Esi, 291

Esther: Queen, 46

Euclid, 75

Eve, 43

Evening, 194, 203, 209, 214

Expulsion, 172, 175

Facade of San Lorenzo, 183, 185, 227, 228

Fall of Man: Sistine Chapel, 43, 164, 165, 170

Farnese Palace: the cornice, 233, 237

Farnese: the House of, the master's love for, 84

Father of the master: _see_ Lodovico

Fattore: Il, 256

Fattuci: Ser Giovan Francesco, letters to, 133, 143, 191, 193, 195, 199, 242; he rebukes the master for his modesty, 192

Faun: a copy in marble, 10; the Mask in the Bargello, 11, note; a drawing in the Louvre, 98, note

Febbre: Madonna della, _see_ Madonna

Fernando di Gonzaga: Signer, 205

Femes: Cardinal, 270, 313

Ferrara: the master visits the fortifications, 60, 202

Ferrara: Duke of, disposes of the Colossal Bronze, 141; the master's visit to, 202, 290

Festa: Constanza, sets the master's madrigals to music, 208

Ficino: Masilio, 102

Fidelissimi: Gherardo, physician, 258

Fight for the Standard: Leonardo da Vinci's cartoon, 124, 127

Figio Vanni: Battista, Pope's agent, 203

Filippiuo: _see_ Lippi

Flanders: the master's opinion of the painting of, 279-281, 324

Flood: the, Sistine Chapel, 44, 46, 165, 167, 170-173, 214

Florence, 3-6, 15-20, 22-29, 36, 37, 50, 51; siege of, 56, 201; is betrayed, 57, 203; 62; gossip, 97; 106-114; 130; 158; the master purchases land for a studio, 184, 208, 253-255, 260, 290, 293, 305

Fontainebleau: the Leda at, 204, 294

Forli: Bishop of, Pier Giovanni, 83

Fortification: the master made Commissary-General, 55; the Borgo, 238

France: statue of Hercules sent to, 14; painting in, 294

Francesca: daughter of Buonarroto, 201

Francesca: mother of the master, 109

Francesco d'Ollanda, 269-327

Francesco: San, a cartoon drawn for a barber, 107; and another for Mineghella, 264

Francesco: _see_ Bandini and Urbino

Francesco: Urbino, da, schoolmaster, 6

Franciabigio: Il, studies the Cartoon, 127

Francia: Il, 90

Francis I.: of France buys the Leda, 62; invites the master to France, 78; letter to, 232, 294

Frizzi: Frederigo, finishes the Risen Christ, 188

Gaeta: _see_ Pier Luigi

Galatea: by Raphael, 292

Galli: Jacopo, commissions the Bacchus, 24, 107, 112

Galli: owned the Bacchus and the little Cupid, 25

Gallio Subelloni, 247

Gallo: Antonio, 226

Ganymede: a drawing, 231

Gatta: Bartolommeo della, 166

Gems: engraved, shown to the master by the Magnificent, 13; motives from intaglios, Adam, 171; Judith, 178; Leda, 202

Genoa: the master proposes to retire to, 66; the Senate orders a statue of Doria, 190; the medallion, Albergo dei Poveri, 237, 291

George: St., by Donatello, 117

Germany, 200, 283, 291

Ghibelline, 4

Ghiberti: Lorenzo, 100, 170

Ghirlandaio: Domenico, the master's first teacher, 7, 8, 97; the master leaves him, 10, 99; histories in the Sistine Chapel, 166

Ghirlandaio: Ridolfo, Vasari's gossip, 97; worked from the Cartoon, 126

Giacomo del Duca: carves details on the Tomb of Julius II., 226

Giacomo della Porta, 249

Giangiacomo de' Medici: his monument at Milan, 250

Giannotti: Donato, a friend of the master's, 85, 246, 249

Giant: _see_ David

Gie: Marechal de, 119

Giorgio: _see_ Vasari

Giotto: studies from, 105, 158

Giovanni da Reggio, 187, 188

Giovanni da Udine, 197, 290

Giovanni dall' Opera, 262

Giovanni de' Marchesi: stone-carver, 224

Giovanni de' Medici, 17

Giovanni: a gem-engraver, 231

Giovanni: San, in Laterano, 320, 321

Giovanni: Michi, 150

Giovanni: San, dei Fiorentini, designs for, 248

Giovannino: San, a, 106

Giovan Simone: joins Buonarroto in the cloth business, 109, 133, 135; his behaviour troubles the master, 151; a letter to him, 153; he begins to do well, 162; death, 254

Girolamo da Fano: retouches the Day of Judgment, 223

Gismondo: to join Buonarroto, 152; visits Rome, 161

Giugni: Galeotto, envoy, 202

Giulia: La, the cannon cast from the wreck of the Bronze, 141, 202

Giulia: the Villa, works ordered by Julius III., 78, 292

Giuliano: a marble statue in the New Sacristy, 193, 194, 211, 212

Giuliano de' Medici: his courtesy, 17

Giulio Romano, 290, 293

Gondi: the bank of, 78

Gondi: Filippo, hides his goods, 201

Gondi: Giambattista, 251

Gonfaloniere: _see_ Soderini

Gottifredo, 3

Granacci: Francesco, 7, 9, 11, 98, 99; studies the Cartoon, 126; helps to provide assistants, his letter, 149, 151

Grand Canal: a design for a bridge, 74

Grotesque, 316-318

Guelph, 4

Guidobaldo: Duke of Urbino own's the god of Love, 23

Guidoccione, 76

Haarlem: drawings in the Teyler Museum, 253

Hawkwood: Sir John, 124

Henry II.: of France, 251

Hercules: a marble statue, 14, 105

Hercules and Cacus, 204

Hercules strangling Antaeus: a wax model, 252

Holkham Hall: Cartoon at, 38, 124, 125

Holy Family with Shepherds, the, 122

Homer, 76, 78, 173

Human form: the master's love for the beauty of, 87

Imitators of the master, 263

Indaco: Jacopo L', assistant, 150, 155; he grumbles, 157, 264

Inscriptions, 262, 263

Intaglio: _see_ Gems

Ippolito de' Medici, 201

Isaiah: by Raphael, 177

Italian painting; the master's opinion of, 280, 281

Jacopo del Conte, 252

Jacopo della Quercia: studied by the master, 136, 170, 171

Jacopo di Sandro: an assistant, 151

Jacopo: _see_ Galli, L'Indaco, Sansovino

Jean: makes a model of the Dome, 247

Jeremiah: the Prophet, 174

Joel, 174

Jonah, 221

Judith, 13, 46, 178; of Donatello, 117

Julius II.: Pope, calls the master to Rome and orders his Tomb, 28-30, 128, 129; offends the master, 35, 38, 130; the Colossal Bronze for Bologna, 40, 130, 132, 134; it is placed on San Petronio, but is destroyed by the mob and made into a cannon, 141; orders the Vault of the Sistine Chapel to be painted, 48, 50, 164; the master's love for him, 62; and his house, 69, 77; he is satisfied, 165, 179; death, 180, 195, 202; the Tragedy of the Tomb of, 216, 224, 226

Julius III.: Pope, 63; a patron of the Arts and of the master, 78, 80, 83, 235, 242; confirms the master in his office, 244; death, 245

Julius Caesar, 310, 315

King of France gives the Slaves to Montmorenci, 227, and _see_ Francis I.

Lactancio Tolomei, 271-322

Lana: Consuls of the Arte della, 115, 120

Lantern: of the New Sacristy, 192

Lapo Antonio di Lapo: assistant at Bologna, 133; is dismissed, 134; 136

Last Judgment: _see_ Day of Judgment

Leda: the, motive from a gem, 13, note; painted for the Duke of Ferrara but sent to France, 61, 202, 204, 214

Leghorn, 184

Leicester: the Earl of, his cartoon at Holkham, 125

Lenoir: M., purchases the Slaves for France, 227

Leo X.: Pope, 4, 5, 10; orders the facade of San Lorenzo, 51; his fervour spent, 54, 78, 182-185; death, 190

Leone Leoni: the monument at Milan, 250; his medal of the master, 252

Letters: from, Catherine de' Medici, 251; Duke of Camerino, 217; Francesco Granacci, 149; Lodovico, 111; Pietro Roselli, 130; Sebastiano, 185, 186, 187, 188, 205; Tomaso del Cavalieri, 231. From the master to, Amanati, 238; Buonarroto, 133, 134, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 161, 162, 181; Cardinal Carpi, 241; Fattucci, 133, 143, 191, 193, 195, 199, 242; Francis I., 232; Giovansimone, 153; Lionardo, his nephew, 246, 248, 254, 257; Lodovico, 110-112, 135, 151, 156, 159, 164; Lorenzo di' Pierfrancesco, 23; nephew of Pope Paul, 242; Sebastiano, 197; Spina, 194; Topolino, 190; Vasari, 245, 255. From Diomede Leoni to Lionardo, 257; from Tiberio Calcagni to Lionardo, 257

Library: Medici, ordered by Clement VII., 54, 197, 250

Libyan Sibyl, 174

Light separated from Darkness, Sistine Chapel, 170, 174, 176

Lignano: Antommaria, banks money for the Colossal Bronze, 40

Lionardo da Vinci, 116; his cartoon, 124, 209, 327

Lionardo di Compago: saddle-maker, 184

Lionardo: nephew of the master, 104; letters to, 246, 248, 254, 257; marries Cassandra, 254; receives news of the master's illness, 257; and death, 260; orders Vasari to design the Tomb, 262

Lippi: Filippino, 116

Lodovico del Buono: founder, assists the master at Bologna, 133, 134

Lodorico di Leonardo Buonarroti Simoni, father of the master, 5, 7, 11, 13, 15, 109; letters to, 110, 111, 112, 135, 137, 151, 156, 159, 162, 164: letter from, 111

Loggia dei Lanzi, 116, 129, 228

Loggia of the Vatican, 263, 292

Lorenzetto: worked from the cartoon, 127

Lorenzino: nicknamed Brutus, 250

Lorenzo: San, the facade, 51, 183, 185; obsequies of the master at, 262

Lorenzo: San, the pulpits of, 100, 103, 178

Loreto, 265

Lottino: Il, 85, 246

Louis XIII: 204

Louvre: the two Slaves, 116

Love: a god of, in marble, made to imitate the antique, 21, 107; a little, carved for Galli, 25, 107, 108

Lucan, 299

Lucca, 3

Lucrezia: second wife of Lodovico, 109

Luiz: Infanta D., 169

Madonna and Child: a bas-relief in the Casa Buonarroti, 104

Madonna and Child: marble statue, Bruges, 29

Madonna and Child: marble statue, New Sacristy, San Lorenzo, 59, 194, 215

Madonna and Child with Angela: National Gallery, from a cartoon by the master, 157

Madonna and Child with St. John: marble tondo, Bargello, 121, 122

Madonna and Child with St. John: marble tondo, Diploma Gallery, 121, 122

Madonna and Child with St. Joseph: painted tondo, Ufflzi, 29, 122

Madonna della Pieta: of St. Peter's 25, 26, 112, 113, 232, 234

Madonna: medallion at Genoa, 237

Maffei: the Most Reverend, 84

Malaspina: Lionardo, 85

Manfidi: Angelo, second herald, 116

Mantegna: Andrea, 290

Mantua, 3, 290

Mantua: Cardinal of, commends the Moses, 67

Mantua: the Marchesana, 22, 23

Marc Antonio Raimondi: his engraving of the Cartoon, 125

Marcello Venusti: his copy of the Day of Judgment, 253

Marcellus II.: Pope, Cardinal Marcello Cervini, 244; Pope, 245

Margarite: of Austria, 305

Mario Scappuci, 180; 181

Martin Schongauer: the master copies his engraving, 7, 97

Masaccio: study of, 105, 172

Maso del Bosco: carves the portrait of Julius II. for the Tomb, 226

Matilda: Countess, 3

Mattea da Lecce: Sistine Chapel, 167

Matthew: St., marble statue in the Court of the Academy, Florence, 74, 118, 228

Maturino: worked from the Cartoon, 127, 292

Maximilian: Emperor, 279

Medal: Leone's, of the master, 252

Medici: Alessandro de', 59, 60, 62, 201, 250, 305

Medici: Cardinal de', _see_ Clement VII.

Medici: Cosimo de' 51, 208

Medici: Cosimo de', First Grand Duke of Tuscany, 104, 209

Medici Garden, 9, 99

Medici: House of, driven out of Florence, 18, 55, 201, 290

Medici: Lorenzo di Pier Francesco de', 21, 23, 106; letter to, 107

Medici: Lorenzo de', the Magnificent, sees the master at work in his garden, 10, 100; takes him into his household, 12, 13; death, 14, 105; his ghost appears to Cardiere, 16, 17, 193, 194, 208, 211, 212

Medici: Pier de', 15, 17

Medici rule, 215

Medici Tombs: in the New Sacristy of San Lorenzo, 58, 173, 203, 208, 250, 252

Melozzo da Forli: vault painting of, 131

Menichella: Domenico, 205, 206

Metauro, 193

Metello Vari: dei Porcari, 180, 181, 188

Michael Angelo: claims descent from the House of Canossa, 3; his ancestors, 4; birth and horoscope, 5; foster-mother and schoolmaster, 6; first painting, 7, 97; apprenticed to Ghirlandaio, 8, 97; drawings, 8, 9, 98; studies in the Medici Gardens under Bertoldo, 9, 99; carves the head of a faun, 10, 11; enters the House of Medici, 12, 102; halcyon days with Lorenzo who presents him with a violet-coloured mantle, 12, note, 102; incited by Poliziano, he carves the Rape of Deianira, 14, 103; grief at the loss of his patron, 14; the lost Hercules, 14, 105; makes a snow-statue for Piero, 15; studies anatomy at Santo Spirito and carves a crucifix in wood for the Prior, 16; fears of Cardiere, 17; and flight to Bologna, 18; the Angel of the Shrine of San Domenico, 19, 105; returns to Florence, 21, 106; the San Giovannino and the god of Love, 21, 22, 23, 106, 107; first visit to Rome, 22, 107; carves a Bacchus and a little Cupid, 24, 25, 107, 108; and the Madonna della Pieta, 25, 112; returns to Florence, 27, 28, 114-120; the Madonna of Bruges, 29, 121; the three Tondi, 29, 121-124; the Cartoon of Pisa, 37, 38, 124-127; summoned to Rome by Julius II., 29, 128; who orders the Tomb, 30-34, 128-130; marbles brought from Carrara, 30, 34, 128; flight from Rome, 85, 36, 130; works in Florence on the Cartoon, 37, 130; joins Julius at Bologna, 39, 132; the Colossal Bronze, 40, 133-142, 144, 145; returns to Florence, 143; but is summoned to Rome, 143; to paint the vault of the Sistine Chapel, 41-49, 145-165; descriptions of the vault, 42-46, 167-179; death of Julius, 50, 146, 180; proceeds with the Tomb, 51, 180-182; but Leo X. orders a facade for San Lorenzo, 51; quarries at Carrara and Pietra Santa, 52, 183, 185; the facade abandoned, 54, 185; the Library, 54; the New Sacristy, 54, 186; and the Medici Tombs, 68-60, 192-194, 208-216; the Siege of Florence, the master made Commissary-General of Fortifications, 55-58; visits Ferrara, 60; flight to Venice, 66; return to duty, 57; the fall of Florence, 67, 203; the master in hiding, but he is allowed to return to work on the Tombs, 68, 203; the Leda, 61, 62, 202; the Risen Christ, 74, 180, 187, 188; new agreement with the executors of Julius, 62-64, 194; the master is called to Rome by Clement VII. and leaves Florence for the last time, 62, 208; the Day of Judgment, 64, 70, 71, 216-224; Paul III. appoints the master chief architect, sculptor, and painter to the Vatican, 216; the Tomb of Julius erected in San Pietro ad Vincula, 67-69, 195, 224-227; the frescoes in the Cappella Paolino, 73, 232; the Pieta of S.M. del Fiore, 73, 234-237; the cornice of the Farnese Palace, 238; St. Peter's, 238, 239, 246; the Brutus, 249; S.M. degli Angeli, 251; a grand-nephew born, 265; death of Urbino, 256, 256; a visit to the country near Spoleto, 256; illness, 268; death, 258; works left in his house, 259; his body is deposited in SS. Apostoli, 260; conveyed to Florence, 260; and carried to Santa Croce, 261; his imitators, 263; character and endowments of the master, 77; his love of all beautiful things, 87; his abstemious life, 88; generosity, 88, 264, 265; a description of his person, 91; and the colour of his hair and eyes, 92; the master visits S. Silvester, 273; and expresses his opinion of the quiet life of work, 276; of painting in Flanders, 279; on drawing, 295-297, 308-322; on working quickly or slowly, 325; on the value of paintings, 314; on grotesque, 316; and on devotional painting, 319.

Milan, 158, 250

Milliarini: Professor, discovers a statue, 108

Minerva: the church of S.M. Sopra, 74, 180, 181

Mini: Antonio, pupil of the master, 192, 204, 264

Mini: Paolo, 207

Miniato: San, fortifications, 55, 202, 203

Minighella, 264

Monciatto: woodcarver, 115

Montanto: Antonio, 184

Montelupo, 194

Montevarchi: Ser Giovanni di Guasparre, 151

Montevecchio; Cardinal, 63

Montorsoli, 194

Moscheroni: Flemish merchants, 29

Moses: marble statue, the Tomb of Julius, 33, 67, 68, 129, 167, 182, 225

Mother: of the Master, _see_ Francesca

Mould on the Vault, 46, 161

Mozza: Via, 184

Nanni di Baccio Bigio: his intrigues, 242, 244, 247

Naples: copy of the Day of Judgment, 253

National Gallery, 116, 157, 204, 265, 292, 330, 331

Neptune: proposed statue of Andrea Doria as, 190, 191

Nero, 275, 285

New Sacristy of San Lorenzo, 192, 208, 293

Nicholas V.: Pope, 34

Nicolo di Bari: the ark of San Domenico, 105

Nicolo: San, beyond Arno, 203

Night: marble statue, New Sacristy, 58, 194, 203, 204, 209, 213, 214, 293

Noah: the Sacrifice of, Sistine Chapel, 44, 45

Novella: S.M., the first art school of the master, 99

Oil painting; the master's opinion of 217

Ollanda: _see_ Francesco

Onofrio: San, the master's workshop at, 124

Operai: of the Duomo, 115, 120

Orcagna, 99

Orvieto, 221

Ottavio Farnese: the marriage of, 306

Ovid, 299

Oxford: drawings at, anatomy students, 16; after two destroyed frescoes, 166; design for alterations at San Lorenzo, 198, 230

Padua, 290

Palla: Giovanni Battista della, 105

Paolina: Cappella, 224

Paolo Galli: owned the Bacchus and the little Cupid, 25

Paris: the Leda goes to, 204

Parma, 3, 291

Parmigiano, 291, 327

Paul: St., conversion of, fresco, 73, 101

Paul III.: Pope, elected, 66; visits the master, 67; orders him to proceed with the Day of Judgment, 70, 73, 78, 80, 84; appoints the master chief architect, 216; his answer to Messer Biagio, 223; orders the frescoes for his chapel, 224, 225, 237, 239; death, 242, 248, 276, 314

Paul IV.: Pope, 223

Pavia: Cardinal of, 132, 141, 147

Penseroso: Il, 203

Perino del Vaga, 127, 238, 270, 291, 327

Perspective, 82

Perugino, 77, 166, 216

Peruzzi: Baldassari, 238, 240, 242, 292, 295, 327

Pesaro, 290

Pescara: Marchioness of, _see_ Colonna

Pesellino: studies from, 105

Peter: St., a blocked out statue, 259

Peter: St., crucifixion of, alfresco, 73

Peter's: the church of St., new design for, 25, 33, 83; plans altered to embrace the project of the Tomb, 129; the master undertakes the works, 238, 243, 244, 245, 249, 259, 291, 292, 305

Petrarca, 19; and Tuscan rhyme, 76

Petronilla: Santa, the Madonna della Pieta placed in the church of, 25, 112

Petronio: San, a marble statuette finished by the master, 105

Petronio: San, the master hears mass in the church of, 39

Phaeton: a drawing, 231

Phidias, 156, 294

Piacenza: the ferry revenue goes to the master, 216

Piecolomini: Cardinal Francesco, orders fifteen statues, 114

Pico della Mirandola, 102

Pier Luigi: Gaeta, 247

Piero di Cosimo, 103, note, 116

Pierre Mariette: the fate of the Leda, 204

Pieta: a drawing, 259

Pieta: of S.M. del Fiore, 73, 233, 236, 262

Pieta: the Palazzo Rondini, 237

Pieta: Viterbo, by Sebastiano, 265

Pieta: _see_ Madonna della Pieta

Pietra: Santa, marble quarries, 52, 53, 183-185

Pietro Matteo d'Amelia, 150

Pietro: San, in Montorio, wall painting by Sebastiano, 101, 265, 292

Pietro: San, in Viticula, the Tomb of Julius II. set up, 67, 129, 182

Pietro: San, Maggiore, Florence, 260

Pietro Urbano: a workman, 133

Pietro Urbino, 187, 264

Pilote: goldsmith, 264

Pinti: Borgo, the master's house in, 120

Pintoricchio: Bernardino, 166

Piombo: _see_ Sebastiano

Pisa: fortifications, 202; picture by Buggiardini, 158; 291

Pisa: _see_ Cartoon

Pisani: pulpits of the, 103

Pisano: Giovanni, 177

Pistoia: San Andrea at, 177; 264

Pitti: Bartolomineo, 121

Pius III.: Pope, _see_ Piccolomini.

Pius IV.: Pope, elected, 245; confirms the master in his office, 247, 250

Pius V.: injures the Day of Judgment, 228

Plato, 75, 87

Plutarch, 286, 326

Po: the river, 193; revenue of a ferry, 216

Poggibonsi, 35

Pole: Cardinal, a friend of the master, 84

Polidoro, 292, 327

Poliziano: recognises the master's lofty spirit, 13, 102, 103

Pollaiuolo: Salvestro del, nephew of Antonio, 139

Pollaiuolo: Simone il, 131

Polvaccio: Roman quarry, 187

Pompey, 286, 310

Ponte: Maestro Bernardo dal, helps to cast the Colossal Bronze, 136, 139

Ponte Rotto, 245

Pontormo: Il, 127, 264

Porta del Popolo, 251

Porta Pia, 251

Portraits of the master, 252, 263

Praxiteles, 294

Prophets: Sistine Chapel, 42, 45, 164, 166-170, 176-178, 211

Protogenes, 325

Psyche: the Story of, by Raphael, 292

Pulci: Luigi, 102

Raffaellino: offers to come as assistant, 149

Raffaello da Monte Lupo: his autobiography, 121; the Madonna for the Tomb of Julius, 224-226

Raising of Lazarus: by Sebastiano, the master's design for, 265

Raphael: da Urbino, proposed by the master as painter of the Sistine, 41, 47; studies the style of the master, 77; he is praised by the master, 89; his painting of Doni, 122; studied the Cartoon, 126; his manner with his assistants, 155; the proposition of Bramante, 164; cartoons for tapestry, 167; his composition of the Sacrifice of Noah, 173; Sibyls at S.M. della Pace, 177; a putto, 178, 197, 221, 238, 240, 242, 256, 263, 271, 292

Ravenna, 184

Realdo: physician, 91

Redemptions of Israel, 166, 169, 178

Reggio, 3

Rembrandt, 172, 224

Reynel: King of France, 293

Riccio: Luigi del, nurses the master when ill, 227

Ricordi: the vault finished, 165; the facade of San Lorenzo abandoned, 185; marbles for the sacristy, 187; 192; Gondi hides goods in the New Sacristy, 201

Ridolfi: Cardinal, 85

Ridolfo Pio of Carpi: Cardinal, letter to, 241; the Brutus for, 249

Ridolfo: _see_ Ghirlandaio

Rimini: a post on the Chancery bestowed on the master, 216

Risen Christ: _see_ Christ

Robertet: Florimond, secretary, receives the bronze David, 119, 120

Rocco: a San, drawn for Minighella, 264

Rondini: Palazzo, Pieta in, 237

Rontini: Baccio, cures the master from the effects of his fall, 219

Romans: claim him as a citizen, 260

Rome: the master's first visit, 29, 30 37, 41, 107, 109, 111, 121, 128 130, 184, 185; the sack of, 200, 205; the master returns finally, 216, 237, 240, 246, 247, 253, 256, 260, 270, 291, 305, 314

Rosselli: Cosimo, 116, 166

Rosselli: Piero di Jacopo, plasters the vault, 149

Rosselli: Pietro, letter to the master, 130

Rosselmini: Count Guarlandi, 106

Rosso: II, worked from the Cartoon, 127

Rovere: _see_ Julius II.

Rovezzano: Benedetto da, 119

Rovano: Cardinal, _see_ Dionigi

Royal Academy: _see_ Diploma Gallery

Rucellai: recommendation to, 24

Ruffilni: Alessandro, groom of the Chamber, 83

Sacrarium: at San Lorenzo, design, 198

Sacrifice of Noah, 172, 173

Sacristy of San Lorenzo: _see_ Medici Tombs

Sack of Rome, 200, 205

Salt-cellar: design for, 217

Salvestro da Montanto, 226

Salvestro: jeweller, 116

Salviati: Alamano, 30

Salviati: Cardinal, 244

Salviati: Cecchino, rescues fragments of the arm of the David, 117

Salviati: Michael Angelo, father of Cecchino, 117

Salviati: Jacopo, 192

Sanazzaro, 76

Sangallo; Antonio da, 34, 47, 85, 116, 237, 238, 240-242, 259

Sangallo: Aristotele, assistant, 151

Sangallo: Ginliano da, 116, 141

San Gallo: Porta, 200

Sansovino: Andrea del Monte a, 27

Sansovino: Jacopo, 263

Santa Croce: Cardinal, 84

Santa Croce: Florence, 253, 260-262

Santarelli: sculptor, discovers a statue, 108

Santiquattro: Cardinal, 61, 52

Sarto: _see_ Andrea

Savonarola: the master's affection for, 87; his sermons, 106

Scaffolding: designed by the master, 82; drawing of, 98; fall from, 218

Schongauer: _see_ Martin Scipio, 84

Scourging of Christ: drawn for Sebastiano, 101, 265

Sebastiano del Piombo, 101: a walk in Rome, 121; letters from, 185, 187, 188, 205; portrait of Doria, 191; letter to, 197; prepares the wall for the Day of Judgment, 217, 231, 238, 253, note; his genial humour, 264; designs for, 265, 292, 314, 327

Setta Sangallesca, 237, 242-245

Settignano: the master nursed at, 6

Sibyls, 42, 45, 164, 166-170, 176-178; by Raphael, 177

Siege of Florence, 201, 205

Siena, 273, 292, 327

Sigismondo: a brother, 109

Signorelli: Luca, pictures in the Uffizi, 123; and Sistine Chapel, 166; slight influence of, 123, 124

Silvester: San, at Monte Cavallo, 271-327

Simone da Canossa: ancestor, 4, 6

Sin of Ham, 164, 170, 174, 179

Sistine Chapel, 41-49, 167-180, 210

Sixtus IV.: Pope, 41

Slaves: the two, marble statues, given to Strozzi, 89, 129, 116; 182, 216, 225, 227

Snow: a statue in, 15

Socrates, 87

Soderini: Cardinal, 39

Soderini: Pier, Gonfaloniere, 28, 36, 37, 96, 97; his criticism of the David, 118, 132

Solari: Cristoforo, Il Gobbo, 113

Spain, 200, 312, 313

Spanish Chapel, 99

Spedalingo: head of the hospital of S.M. Nuova, 157, 181, 182

Spina: Giovanni, to pay a provision to the master, 192; letter to, 194

Spirito: Santo, a crucifix for, 16

Spoleto, 256

Staccoli: Hieronimo, his letter to the Duke of Camerino, 217

Stairway to the Library, 250

Stanze: of the Vatican, 263, 270, 271, 292

Stefano: di Tomaso, 191, 192

Strozzi: Filippo, a sword hilt given to, 136

Strozzi: Giovan Battista, verses on the Night, 218

Strozzi: Lorenzo, 161

Strozzi Palace: the Hercules there until the siege, 105

Strozzi: Roberto, Slaves given to, 88, 89, 227

Stufa: Luigi della, a colossus to spoil the front of his palace, 198, 199

Sword-hilt: designed for Aldobrandini but given to Strozzi, 186

Tapestry: Raphael's cartoons for, 167

Tasio: wood-carver, 197

Taro: river, 193

Te: Palazzo del, 263

Teridade: King, 294

Terribilita: the master's, 101, 117

Teyler Museum: Haarlem, 253

Tiber, 193

Tiberio Calcagni, 249; letter to Lionardo, 257, 258

Ticino: river, 193

Titian: his later work, 230, 290, 327

Tityos: drawing, 231

Tolemei: Claudio, 85

Tomaso: _see_ Cavalieri

Tomaso: of Prato, attorney, 62

Tomb of Julius: first design, 30-33, 128, 129; description, 67; moneys received for, 69, 183, 186; the master's desire to complete it, 191; and trouble concerning it, 194, 205, 207

Tondi: _see_ Madonna and Child

Topolino: Domenico Fancelli, letter to, 190; 264

Torrigiano: strikes the master, 91; his history, 92; a St. Francis by, 114

Tribolo: studied the Cartoon, 127

Trinita de' Monti, 253

Tromboncini: Bartolomeo, music to the madrigals, 207

Turk: The Grand, invites the master, 37, 78

Uffizi: Florence, the painted tondo, 29, 122; the dancing Faun, 175; Signorelli's pictures 123; drawings, 193

Urbino: Francesco, 255, 256, 273, 314

Urbino: Francesco Maria, Duke of, finds fault with the slow progress of the Tomb of Julius II., 55, 62-64; Paul III. arranges a new contract, 67, 69, 207; final contract, 225, 226, 290

Urbino: the master thinks of retiring to, 66

Urbino: the Palace of the Duke, 290

Valdarno, 264

Valori: Baccio, the Apollo presented to, 205, 207

Valentino: Duke, sends the god of Love to Mantua, 22, 23

Valerio Cioli, 262

Valerio de Vincenca, 270

Valpaio: Benvenuto, 207

Valuation of works of art, 314

Vansitelli, 251

Varchi: Lectures and criticisms on the sonnets, 86; oration, 262

Vari: _see_ Metello

Vasari: Giorgio, his famous book, 92, 97, 98; preserves the broken fragments of the arm of the David, 117; the story of the Gonfaloniere, 118; the St. Matthew, 120; the tondi, 121, 122; the Cartoon, 126; seventeen statues for the Tomb of Julius completed, 130; a list of assistants, 150, 151; his fable of the vault, 158, 163; the Apollo, 204; he completes the works at San Lorenzo, 209, 211; how Sebastiano prepared the wall, 217; the master's fall, 218; the Day of Judgment, 222; the Cappella Paolino, 232; he sees the master working at night, 235; a Pieta, 237; the cornice, 238; St. Peter's, 241; plots, 243; the bridge of Nanni, 245; the church for the Florentines in Rome, 249; the medal of Leone, 252; he holds another Buonarroto at the font, 255; a letter to, referring to the death of Urbino, 255, 256; the master's will, 269; he receives the master's body in Florence, 260; and describes the opening of the coffin in Santa Croce, 261; and the obsequies at San Lorenzo, 262; he designs the Tomb, 262; and enumerates the pupils, 263

Vauban: studies the fortifications at San Miniato, 203

Vault: of the Sistine Chapel, 41-49; works begun, 149; painting begins, 151; assistants dismissed, 156; mould on the fresco, 161; exposed to view, 163; finished, 165; a description, 167-179, 291

Vecchio: Palazzo, 116; cartoon for, 124; Bandinelli's Hercules and Cacus, 204

Venice: the master invited to, 78; flees to, 202; Sebastiano refers to, 206, 290, 327

Venusti: _see_ Marcello

Victory: the, a marble statue in the Bargello, 129, 228

Vincenzo: _see_ Borghini

Vinci: _see_ Lionardo

Vincula: San Pietro in, Bramante's work needs support, 32; the Moses placed in, 33 Virgil, 76, 298, 303

Vitelli: Alessandro, 60

Viterbo: Vittoria Colonna visits, 85, 240; the Pieta by Sebastiano, 265

Vitruvius, 237

Vittoria: _see_ Colonna

Volterra: Cardinal, letter from Soderini to, 132

Volterra: _see_ Daniele

Windsor: drawings, 230

Works of art in the house of the master when he died, 259

Zanobi: Via San, 184

Zanobi: Mona, land near her estate, 135

Zapata: Diogo, 289

Zeuxis, 315

Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.

London & Edinburgh

1 For convenience of reference the chapters in the two parts are divided so as to cover the same periods of time in the life of the master.

2 Count Alessandro da Canossa acknowledged relationship to Michael Angelo in a letter, dated October 4, 1520 (Gotti, i. 4), addressing the master as "honoured kinsman," but the relationship cannot now be proved. The ancestors of Michael Angelo have been traced to one Bernardo who died before the year 1228, and they played their part as citizens of Florence, no mean city, for more than two hundred years--a noble pedigree even for Michael Angelo.

3 A paid magistrate or mayor, generally from a neighbouring town or country and not a citizen of the place where he was on duty.

4 Caprese is made up of scattered hamlets and farmhouses near Arezzo, upon the watershed between the Tiber and the Arno.

5 Upon March 6, 1475, according to our present reckoning, Lodovico wrote in his note-book:

"I record that on this day, March 6, 1474, a male child was born to me. I gave him the name of Michael Angelo, and he was born on a Monday morning four or five hours before daybreak, and he was born while I was Podesta of Caprese, and he was born at Caprese; and the godfathers were those I have named below. He was baptized on the eighth of the same month in the Church of San Giovanni at Caprese." Then follow the godfathers; there are ten of them.

6 Maestro Francesco only taught Michael Angelo to read and write in the vulgar tongue, for his pupil complained in after life that he knew no Latin; this was not Francesco's fault, for his pupil soon followed his friend's--another Francesco--influence and neglected literature for the art that made him famous.

7 Ghirlandaio, born 1449, died 1494.

8 Martin Schongauer, born at Colmar about 1450, died 1488.

9 When Michael Angelo was thirteen years old Lodovico gave in to his wishes and apprenticed him to Domenico Ghirlandajo (he was called Ghirlandajo because as a goldsmith he had made garlands of golden leaves for the brows of the Florentine ladies) upon the unusual terms set forth in the following minute from Domenico's ledger under the date 1488:

"I record this first of April how that I, Lodovico di Lionardo di Buonarrota, bind my son Michael Angelo to Domenico and Davit di Tommaso di Currado for the next three ensuing years, under these conditions and contracts: to wit that the said Michael Angelo shall stay with the above-named masters during this time, to learn the art of painting, and to practise the same, and to be at the order of the above-named; and they for their part, shall give him in the course of these three years twenty-four florins (fiorini di Sagello, _L_8 12_s._); to wit, six florins in the first year, eight in the second, ten in the third, making in all the sum of ninety-six pounds (lire)."

A note of April 16, 1488, records that two florins were paid to Michael Angelo upon that day. The total sum is estimated by Gotti (p. 6, note) to equal 206.40 lira present value--about _L_8 12_s._ It was usual for apprentices to pay a sum to their masters rather than to be paid.

10 Drawings, even by old masters, were of no pecuniary value in those days; they were merely kept for use in the workshop. The fashion of collecting drawings for their own sake was invented by Giorgio Vasari some sixty years later.

11 There is a mask of a grinning faun to be seen in the Bargello at Florence, attributed to Michael Angelo and said to be this his first work in sculpture. It does not correspond with either the account of Vasari or of Condivi; it is a poor and ugly piece of work, and shows no sign whatever of the early style of Michael Angelo, but is more likely a work of a later period by some one who had seen the mask under the left arm of "The Night" on the tomb of Lorenzo at San Lorenzo.

12 "During this time Michael Angelo received from the Magnifico an allowance of five ducats per month, and was furthermore presented for his gratification with a violet-coloured mantle. But, indeed, all the young men who studied in the gardens received stipends of greater or less amount from the liberality of that Magnificent and most noble citizen, being constantly encouraged and rewarded by him whilst he lived." (Vasari.)

13 Many motives from antique gems may be traced in the art of Michael Angelo, such as the Judith and her maid, some of the athletes the Leda, and even the Adam.

14 Lorenzo died upon the eighth day of April, 1492.

15 Equal to-day to 20.60 lire--about seventeen shillings.

16 Nineteen and a quarter inches according to the measurements of Heath Wilson ("Michael Angelo and his Works," p. 17, ed. 1881). This relief is in the Casa Buonarroti, Florence.

17 We have no record of this work, and its whereabouts is not known.

18 The boy, Michael Angelo, probably enjoyed this frolic and its attendant festivities as much as Piero, he could not have done much other work in the dungeon-like studios of Florence in such cold weather. This incident has been regarded as an insult to the artist and a sign of Piero's want of taste. Michael Angelo cannot have felt aggrieved as he stayed on at the palace. Condivi relates that he remained "some months." Piero should rather be blamed for not employing his artist guest upon some more lasting work also.

19 Nothing is known as to the fate of this work, it is not now in the church.

20 Vasari states that Michael Angelo devoted much time to the study of anatomy. "For the church of Santo Spirito, in Florence, Michael Angelo made a crucifix in wood, which is placed over the lunette of the high altar. This he did to please the Prior, who had given him a room wherein he dissected many dead bodies, zealously studying anatomy." (Vasari.)

A pen drawing at Oxford shows us two students studying anatomy at night; the body of the subject supports the torch; one student holds a pair of compasses in his right hand for measuring the proportions.

21 Michael Angelo left Bologna hastily under fear of personal violence from the sculptors and native craftsmen, who said he was taking the bread out of their mouths, rather a strong compliment to a boy of twenty.

22 The dealer Baldassari del Milanese paid Michael Angelo thirty ducats for this work, and sold it to Raffaello Riario, Cardinal di San Giorgio, as an antique for two hundred ducats, an evidence, not of the Cardinal's foolishness, but of Michael Angelo's careful study of the antique.

23 The Cardinal S. Giorgio made Messer Baldassari refund the two hundred ducats and take the Cupid back, so Michael Angelo got nothing for his journey. Cesare Borgia presented this Cupid to Guidobaldo di Montefeltro, Duke of Urbino. After Cesare Borgia sacked the town of Urbino in 1592 he sent the Cupid to the Marchioness of Mantua, who wrote on July 22, 1592, describing the Cupid as "without a peer among the works of modern times." There is a sleeping Cupid at Mantua in the Museo Civico, but it is not by Michael Angelo. Signor Fabriczy holds that a Cupid preserved in the museum at Turin may be Michael Angelo's original work, but the translator has not seen it.

24 Michael Angelo arrived in Rome for the first time at the end of June 1496, and wrote in July to Lorenzo di' Pier Francesco de' Medici. The letter bears a superscription to Sandro Botticelli; historians presume from this that it was not safe to write openly to any of the Medici.

"2nd day of July, 1496.

"Magnificent Lorenzo,--I only write to inform you that last Saturday we arrived safely, and went at once to visit the Cardinal di San Giorgio; and I presented your letter to him. It appeared to me that he was pleased to see me, and he expressed a wish that I should go immediately to inspect his collection of statues. I spent the whole day there, and for that reason was unable to deliver all your letters. On Sunday the Cardinal came into the new house, and had me sent for. I went to him, and he asked me what I thought about the things I had seen. I replied by stating my opinion, and certainly I can say with sincerity that there are many fine things in the collection. Then he asked me if I had the courage to make some beautiful work. I answered that I should not be able to achieve anything so great, but that he should see what I could do. We have bought a piece of marble for a life size statue, and on Monday I shall begin to work. On Monday last I presented your other letter of recommendation to Rucellai, who offered me what money I might want; also those to Cavalcanti. Afterwards I gave your letter to Baldassare, and asked him for the child (the sleeping Cupid), saying I was ready to refund his money. He answered very roughly, swearing he would rather break it in a hundred pieces; he had bought the child and it was his property; he possessed writing which proved that he had satisfied the person who sent it to him, and was under no apprehension that he should have to give it up. Then he complained bitterly of you, saying that you had spoken ill of him. Certain of our Florentines sought to accommodate matters, but failed in their attempt. Now I look to coming to terms through the Cardinal; for this is the advice of Baldassare Balducci. What ensues I will report to you. No more by this. To you I recommend myself. May God keep you from evil.

"Michael Angelo, in Rome.

"To Sandro Botticelli, at Florence."

(Gotti, ii. 32.)

25 This ugly, but marvellously-finished statue is now in the western corridor of the Uffizi, in Florence. See p. 107.

26 See p. 108.

27 The work is now in the first chapel on the right in the nave of the Basilica of Saint Peter's.

28 Now in the Accademia delle Belle Arti of Florence, where it was placed for its better preservation in 1831.

29 The Office of Works.

30 Documents, copies of which are to be found in "Gaye," vol. ii. pp. 454-464, go to prove that this sculptor was Agostino di Antonio di Duccio, who was born in 1418 and died in 1481. He was the author of the relief illustrating the life of S. Gemignano upon the facade of the Duomo at Modena, and some of the beautiful and delicate marble reliefs set in the polychromatic front of the Oratory of S. Bernardino at Perugia, and the fairy-like low relief (bassissimi rilievi) panels that decorate the interior of the temple of Malatesta at Rimini.

31 The Madonna and Child in the church of Notre Dame at Bruges, identified as this work, is in marble. Vasari also states that the work for the Moscheroni, Merchants of Bruges, was a bronze, but both accounts were written fifty years after the event. Albert Duerer saw this work in the church and mentions it as a marble statue in his "Netherlands Diary," 1520-21.

32 Now in the Tribuna of the Uffizi, Florence.

33 Michael Angelo received payment for the cartoon probably in Florence on February the 28th, 1505 ("Gaye," ii., p. 93), and he went to Carrara in April of that year, so the delay was only two months, a short enough time to prepare his great design.

34 The right bank of the Tiber below Rome. On the opposite shore is the Marmorata, where blocks of marble were unloaded in the times of the ancient Romans; some are there to this day.

35 The covered way from the Vatican to the Castle of Saint Angelo.

36 Heath Wilson estimates the area it would have covered as 34-1/2 ft. by 23 ft. (p. 74).

37 Michael Angelo fled from Rome during the week after Easter, 1506. He relates the circumstances in a letter of October 1542, No. c. d. xxxv. "Le Lettere p. 489," which corroborates Condivi's story word for word, and is another proof of the autobiographical nature of these memoirs.

38 No fragments of this cartoon remain; perhaps the best copy is that in possession of the Earl of Leicester at Holkham Hall. See also p. 124.

39 Like the good Catholic he was, he went to hear mass as soon as he had completed his journey; he always behaved as a good son of the Church.

40 This composition is generally known as the "Sacrifice of Noah," see p. 172. Condivi evidently did not refer these descriptions to the master, they are so full of curious individualities of his own.

41 That is the picture right.

42 The picture right, _i.e._, the spectator's left.

43 "To bloom," as a painter of to-day would say.

44 See p. 163.

45 See pp. 147-165 and 183. The first half may be estimated to have taken eight months and a few days, and the second half from January 1510 to October 1512, with intervals for journeys to Florence, to Bologna, and other interruptions.

46 That is professional assistance by artists or pupils. Workmen were employed to plaster each day's section of work, writers to do the lettering, and even decorative workmen for architectural details.

47 These quarries are in the Alpi Apuane near Viareggio, we are informed by a modern Florentine sculptor that this marble is of excellent quality.

48 See pp. 183-185.

49 This column was still lying in the Piazza of San Lorenzo in 1888; it has now been removed.

50 Michael Angelo's love for Lorenzo the Magnificent never abated, and these tombs may be regarded as a tribute to his early patron's memory. He worked upon them in secret during the siege itself.

51 Condivi had not seen this sacristy and described it merely from the fragmentary recollections of the master.

52 Possibly in the Duke's collection there may have been an antique gem engraved with the story of Leda which influenced Michael Angelo in his choice of this classical subject for the picture he painted for the Duke.

53 The best version of this picture is in one the offices of the National Gallery, London; it is probably the much restored original which was supposed to have been destroyed by order of M. Desnoyers. See p. 204.

54 Francis I.

55 Afterwards Cardinal Pole, Papal Legate in the time of King Henry VIII. and Queen Mary I., born at Stourton Castle, Staffordshire, 1500; died November 18, 1558.

56 The Slaves, now in the Louvre, Paris.

57 The ox, in Italian banter, appears to have taken the position of the ass with us in England, as a dull, heavy beast, a fool. Michael Angelo's answer was, as it were: "It is according to the asses you mean; if it be these asses of Bolognese doubtless they are much bigger; if ours of Florence they are much smaller. You are bigger asses in Bologna than we are in Florence."

58 Piero Torrigiano gave his version of the affair to Benvenuto Cellini long afterwards: "This Buonarroti and I used, when we were boys, to go into the Church of the Carmine to learn drawing from the Chapel of Masaccio. It was Buonarroti's habit to banter all who were drawing there, and one day, when he was annoying me, I got more angry than usual, and, clenching my fist, I gave him such a blow on the nose that I felt bone and cartilage go down like biscuit beneath my knuckles; and this mark of mine he will carry with him to his grave." Cellini adds--"These words begat in me such hatred of the man since I was always gazing at the masterpieces of the divine Michael Angelo, that, although I felt a wish to go with him to England, I now could never bear the sight of him."

Torrigiano worked for Henry VIII. of England in Henry VII. chapel, Westminster, and at Hampton Court. Afterwards he went to Spain and came to a bad end there, as Condivi says. He died in the prisons of the Inquisition, he had been condemned for destroying a figure of the Madonna of his own carving; his patron paid him insufficiently, so he went to the house, hammer in hand, and destroyed the statue, with this unfortunate result. He starved himself to death in prison as a worse fate awaited him. See Vasari.

59 Can this refer to the Second Edition of "The Lives of the Painters, Sculptors, and Architects," by the kindly Giorgio Vasari?

60 --_The Temptation of Saint Anthony_, from the engraving by Martin Schongauer.

61 Ghirlandaio.

62 There is a drawing in the Louvre of a faun's head, in pen and ink, by Michael Angelo, over a red chalk drawing by an inferior hand. It does not appear to be this drawing mentioned by Vasari, but a caprice possibly of the same period, in which the master has undertaken to draw a head with a pen, in which the projections and indentations of the profile shall contradict the outline of the conventional red chalk drawing below.

63 Vasari tells us that one of these pulpits had not been placed in its position in the church even when Michael Angelo's funeral service was held there in 1564, so it is quite likely that it was still in the workshop in 1489.

64 That is the Hellenic work of the degenerate Greeks in Italy: all that was to be seen in his day.

65 Page 10.

66 All the works of Michael Angelo, whether sculpture, painting, or drawing partake of the nature of bas-relief, that old Tuscan art developed to such good purpose by the Florentines. The marks of his chisel hatch out the forms and develop the planes just as the parallel strokes of his pen cut out the reliefs of his drawings from the paper. His method of sculpture in the round was that of a carver of bas-reliefs. He gradually cut away the background more and more until the relief was actually the highest relief possible, the round. Every piece of sculpture Michael Angelo executed is the better for a background, whether niche or wall, for they all partake of this bas-relief nature; and his paintings and drawings may every one of them be thought of as bas-reliefs, and so it is with all the works of the Florentines, his contemporaries and predecessors. Space and distance never entered into their calculations before the time of Piero di Cosimo and his pupil Andrea del Sarto, and even then with but indifferent results. They were all content with the flat bas-relief effects familiar to them in the gates of the Baptistry and the jewel-like decorations of the Campanile. Their favourite problem was the expression of force by form, and no art was so useful for that purpose as bas-relief, because of its fixed main lines of composition and its absolute power of expressing the detail of the action of muscle and bone.

67 Leonardo may have shown it to Vasari also as an early work of the master's; Condivi does not mention it.

68 The cast of an angel from this shrine at the Victoria and Albert Museum, South Kensington, is not from the one carved by Michael Angelo, nor is it of his school as the label states; it is probably by Nicolo del Arca. Michael Angelo's figure is the companion angel on the other side of the altar.

69 See p. 21.

70 Probably because it was dangerous to write to any member of the Medici family. It proves to us that Michael Angelo and Sandro Botticelli were on confidential terms.

71 See p. 24.

72 See p. 25.

73 Vol. i. p. 22.

74 The "Monte di Pieta" is a savings-bank and pawn-broker's, established by the state or city.

75 Le Lettere, ii. p. 4.

76 Gotti, ii. p. 33 (Archivio Buonarroti).

77 Nine cubits = 5.31 metres, or 13 feet 6 inches.

78 Agostino di Duccio.

79 Gotti estimates six golden florins at 57.60 francs, or about _L2 6s_.

80 S.C. 1504. See "Le Lettere," &c., p. 620.

81 A contemporary account, Gotti, vol. i. p. 29.

82 Firenze: Le Monnier, 1857, p. 197.

83 Perkins "Tuscan Sculptors," vol. ii. p. 74.

84 This reason given by Vasari for the use of various mediums is just the sort of reason he would have had himself for using them. Michael Angelo merely used different materials because it was the best way of getting the different effects he wanted, or, sometimes possibly, because they happened to be handy.

85 We know how difficult it is to get facts about the works done a few decades ago, even though the artists be still living; for instance, how little we know of the cartoon competition held in Westminster Hall in 1843, or the fresco of Justice painted by Mr. G.F. Watts, R.A., in the New Hall of Lincoln's Inn.

86 Gotti, i. p. 46 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

87 Gaye, vol. ii. pp. 83, 84, 85, 91, 93, gives all the correspondence.

88 Lettere, No. ccclxxxiii.

89 About fourteen feet, that is to say, at least three times the size of life, as it was a sitting figure.

90 Lettere, No. xlviii. p. 61 (in the British Museum).

91 Le Lettere, No. 1. p. 65 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

92 That is, Dame Zanobia.

93 Le Lettere, No. iv. p. 8 (in the British Museum).

94 We should like to see it; we have nothing of Michael Angelo's which can help us to imagine what this work was like.

95 Le Lettere, No. lx. p. 76 (in the British Museum).

96 Le Lettere, No. lxii. p. 78 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

97 Le Lettere, No. lxiii. p. 79 (in the British Museum).

98 Le Lettere, No. lxiv. p. 80 (in the Archivio Buonarroto).

99 Nephew of Antonio del Pollaiuolo.

100 Le Lettere, No. lxv. p. 81 (in the Archivio Buonarroto).

101 Le Lettere, No. lxxii. p. 88 (in the British Museum).

102 Le Lettere, No. lxxv. p. 91 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

103 Lettere, No. ccclxxxiii. p. 426 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

104 Le Lettere, No. c. (Ricordi) p. 563 (in the British Museum).

105 In the Buonarroti Archives; quoted by Heath Wilson, p. 123.

106 ._Ibid._ p. 124.

107 Le Lettere, No. vii. p. 13 (in the British Museum).

108 The head of the hospital of Santa Maria Nuova in Florence, where Michael Angelo banked his money.

109 L'Indaco.

110 Le Lettere, No. x. p. 17 (in the British Museum).

111 Le Lettere xvii. p. 27 (in the British Museum).

112 Lorenzo Strozzi, to whose wool-shop Buonarroto went.

113 Lettere, No. lxxx. p. 97 (in the British Museum).

114 Lettere, No. lxxxi. p. 98 (in the British Museum).

115 Albertini, _Mirabilia Urbis_, quoted by Grimm vol. i. p. 523. Albertini's words are _pars testudinea superior_.

116 Director of the hospital of Santa Maria Nuova, where Michael Angelo banked his money.

117 Le Lettere, No. xxi. p. 31 (in the British Museum).

118 J.A. Symonds. "The Sonnets of Michael Angelo and Campanella," No. lvi. p. 90.

119 Milanesi Lettere, Contratti, &c., xiv. p. 641.

120 The director of the hospital where Michael Angelo banked his money.

121 Milanese, Le Lettere, No. xcvii. p. 115.

122 Michael Angelo wrote a postscript to letter No. cxvi.: "Oh, cursed a thousand times the day and hour when I left Carrara! This is the cause of my utter ruin. But I shall go back there soon. Nowadays it is a sin to do one's duty."

123 Milanese. Ricordi, &c., p. 581.

124 Milanese. "Les Correspondants de Michel Ange," p. 24.

125 ._Ibid._ p. 24.

126 The letters of Vari are in the Buonarroti Archives, Cod. xi., No. 740-761; Symonds, vol. i. p. 362.

127 Le Lettere, No. ccclxxx., p. 423 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

128 Le Lettere, No. xliv., p. 55 (in the British Museum).

129 Le Lettere, No. cccxc. p. 437. Milanese dates this letter August 8, 1524. Michael Angelo to Giovanni Spina; he signs it "at San Lorenzo."

130 Several are by the hand of Michael Angelo, but some are done in the mannered style of the architectural draughtsman of the period, and suggest a Florentine assistant.

131 Gotti, i. 158

132 Lettere, Nos. cd. and cdii. pp. 450, 453.

133 Le Lettere, No. cccxciv. p. 442 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

134 Le Lettere, No. cd. p. 450 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

135 Le Lettere, No. cccxcvii. p. 446 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

136 Surnamed Dini; he fell in the sack of Rome.

137 Le Lettere, No. cccxcix. p. 448 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

138 The gate called San Gallo, which remained open until daylight.

139 Vol. i. p. 207.

140 Gotti, i. 199. San Nicolo is a little church on the way to San Miniato; the tower forms the foreground in the view from the top of the hill.

141 See p. 61.

142 The letter is in Gaye, ii. 229.

143 Any one who has spent a winter day drawing there will confirm Paolo in this statement.

144 "Correspondants," pp. 108-112.

145 Vol. ii. pp. 89, 122.

146 In the Archivio Buonarroti, Codici xi. No. 765; Bottari, Lettere Pittoriche, vol. iii. pp. 78-84; and Symonds, vol. ii. p. 25.

147 See p. 66.

148 Gotti, ii. p. 123.

149 Gotti, ii. p. 125.

150 See Gaye, iv. 289-309, and "Lettere," &c., pp. 709-712.

151 Lettere, No. cdxxxiii., dated July 20.

152 Lettere, p. 715.

153 Lettere, No. cdxlv. p. 505 (in the "Biblioteca Nazionale," Florence.)

154 Bottari, Lett. pitt. iii. 796.

155 Heath Wilson, p. 449.

156 Archivio Buonarroti, Cod. vii.

157 Le Lettere, No. cdlix. p. 519 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

158 "The Sonnets of Michael Angelo." By J.A. Symonds. No. lxv.

159 Le Lettere, No. cdlxxiv. p. 535, written in 1555 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

160 If the traveller has no luggage, or has sent it on before, he can walk from the Trastevere station, past the Ponte Rotto, past the Temple of Janus to the Forum, and see Rome for the first time so.

161 Le Lettere, No. cdxc., under date 1560, p. 554 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

162 Gotti, i. 309.

163 Le Lettere, No. ccxxxi. (December 21st), p. 260 (in the British Museum).

164 Le Lettere, No. cdlxvi. (October 1549), p. 527 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

165 Gotti, i. 311.

166 Le Lettere, No. cdlxxv. p. 537 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

167 Le Lettere, No. cccii., dated February 13, 1557, p. 333 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

168 Le Lettere, No. cdxciv. p. 558 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

169 Le Lettere, No. cccxiv., dated July 15, 1559, p. 345 (in the Archivio Buonarroti).

170 Le Lettere, Nos, cdlxxxv., cdlxxxvi. pp. 548, 550.

171 Gotti. i. 351.

172 Florence.

173 Reproduced in Yriarte's Florence, p. 280, English edition.

174 See Frontispiece.

175 May we not hope that Michael Angelo's good friend, the Frate Sebastiano del Piombo, painted a portrait of him during their long friendship, and that it will come to light one of these days?

176 Le Lettere, cxci.-cxciii. pp. 217, 219, are on this subject (in the British Museum).

177 A hospital in Florence for the benefit of the Poveri Vergognosi, poor folk who have come down in the world.

178 Le Lettere, No. cclxix. p.299 (in the British Museum).

179 Le Lettere, No. cdlxxv p. 539.

180 Cellini.

181 Le Lettere, No. cdlxxix. Dec. 28, 1556, p. 541.

182 "Carte-Michelesche Inedite," p. 41.

183 Gotti, i. 354.

184 A little after 8 P.M.

185 Four o'clock in the afternoon.

186 Gotti, i. p. 354.

187 Clement VII. used to say, "When Buonarroti comes to see me I always take a seat and bid him be seated at once, feeling sure that he will do so without leave or licence otherwise."--TRANSLATOR.

188 Albert Duerer.

189 Parmigiano.

190 Assisi (?).

191 The Farnesina.

192 Now in the Vatican Gallery.

193 The church of Santa Maria della Pace.

194 Sebastiano del Piombo; the picture was the Raising of Lazarus, No. 1 in the National Gallery.

195 Chiaroscuro, monochrome.

196 Baldassare Peruzzi.

197 Bandinelli(?).

198 Baldassare Peruzzi.

199 Piazza Navona?

200 In 1538.

201 Ottavio Farnese.

202 Margarite of Austria, natural daughter of Charles V.