Michael Angelo Buonarroti Part 1

Michael Angelo Buonarroti.

by Charles Holroyd.

PREFACE

Of all the many lives of Michael Angelo that have been written, that by his friend and pupil, Ascanio Condivi, is the most valuable. For not only is it a contemporary record, like the lives inserted by Giorgio Vasari in the two editions of his famous book, "The Lives of the Most Eminent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects," published in Florence in 1550 and 1568; but Condivi's work has almost the authority of an autobiography, many phrases are in the same words, as certain letters in the hand of Michael Angelo still in existence, especially those relating to the early life and the ancestry of the master, to his favourite nephew Lionardo, and concerning the whole story of the Tragedy of the Tomb to Francesco Fattucci and others.

Condivi's description of his master's personal appearance is so detailed that we can see him with his sculptor's callipers measuring the head of his dear master, and gazing earnestly into his eyes, recording the colours of their scintillations, with the patience of a painter.

Vasari's account has been translated more than once, but Condivi's never, at least never completely. Extracts have been given, and it has been the main resource of every writer on the master; but the faithful and reverent character of the whole work can only be given in a complete translation, its transparent honesty, and its loving devotion. Even had the subject of this naif and unscholarly narrative been an ordinary man in an ordinary period, it would have been worth translating for its truth to life and human nature, much more, therefore, when it is about the greatest craftsman of the Cinque Cento.

Condivi published his "Vita di Michael Angelo Buonarroti" on July 16, 1553; probably incited thereto by the master himself, who desired to correct certain misstatements of his excellent friend, Giorgio Vasari, without hurting that worthy's feelings. Nevertheless, we gather from what Vasari says in his second edition that he somewhat resented the appearance of this new biographer. Perhaps this coloured his unflattering account of Condivi as an artist, when describing Michael Angelo's scholars: "Ascanio della Ripa took great pains, but no results have been seen, whether in designs or finished works. He spent several years over a picture for which Michael Angelo had given him the cartoon, and, at a word, the hopes conceived of him have vanished in smoke." What a good thing it would have been for Vasari's reputation if his art work had vanished in smoke, too, and only his biographies remained. Condivi lives, as he said he wished to live, in the dedication of his work to Pope Julius III., with the name of being a faithful servant and disciple of Michael Angelo.

A second edition of the "Vita di Michael Angelo," by Ascanio Condivi, was published at Florence in 1746. The introduction informs us that Condivi was born at Ripa Transona, and that he outlived his master ten years, dying on February 17, 1563 (1564), aged nearly eighty-nine years.

The second part of this book may be regarded as an appendix(1) to Condivi.

It is a supplementary account of the existing works of the master, and details of their fas.h.i.+oning that may help us to realise the mystery of their production, from contemporary doc.u.ments: letters, contracts, and the life by Vasari, with some few explanations that will not interest the learned, but may help young students of the works of the great master.

Londoners have peculiar facilities for this study. The bas-relief in the Diploma Gallery of the Royal Academy, the drawings in the British Museum, and the unfinished and altered picture at the National Gallery, are an excellent foundation from which to study the casts at Kensington and in the Crystal Palace (the latter are unique in this country, but, alas! in a poor state now). Students of to-day have one immense advantage over those of former times in the magnificent series of photographs that have been issued, especially those of the vault of the Sistine Chapel, which may almost be said never to have been so well seen before.

Since this book went to press, the author has seen an antique intaglio, No. 210 in the Estense Collection at Modena, which he is informed came from Ferrara in 1598, representing a Leda. This confirms the view expressed in the note on page 61, as to the genesis of the Leda by Michael Angelo, for it is exactly similar in composition.

The author desires to express his grat.i.tude to many friends for valuable advice and a.s.sistance, especially to his wife for help in the translations, and to Mr. S. Arthur Strong for kindly looking over the proofs, and other aid; to the Earl of Leicester, of Holkham, for permission to photograph and reproduce the Cartoon at Holkham Hall; to the trustees of the British Museum and Mr. Sidney Colvin for facilities to reproduce two engravings in the Print Room; to the Signori Fratelli Alinari, Signor Anderson, Mm. Braun et Cie., and Signor Brogi, for kindly allowing their photographs to be used in making the ill.u.s.trations.

PART I

THE LIFE OF MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI, BY HIS SCHOLAR ASCANIO CONDIVI, TRANSLATED BY CHARLES HOLROYD

CHAPTER I

THE RAPE OF DEIANIRA, OR THE BATTLE OF THE CENTAURS AND THE ANGEL OF THE SHRINE OF SAINT DOMINIC

Michael Angelo Buonarroti, the unique painter and sculptor, was descended from the Counts of Canossa, a n.o.ble and ill.u.s.trious family of the land of Reggio, both on account of their own worth and antiquity, and because they had Imperial blood in their veins.(2) For Beatrice, sister of Enrico II., was given in marriage to Count Bonifazio of Canossa, then Signor of Mantua; the Countess Matilda was their daughter, a lady of rare and singular prudence and piety; who, after the death of her husband Gottifredo, held in Italy (besides Mantua) Lucca, Parma, Reggio, and part of Tuscany, which to-day is called the Patrimonio of San Pietro; and, having in her lifetime done many things worthy of memory, died and was buried in the Badia of San Benedetto, beyond the walls of Mantua, which abbey she had built, and largely endowed.

II. Messer Simone then, of this family, coming to Florence as Podesta(3) in the year 1250, was deemed worthy of being made a citizen, and head of a _sesitiere_ or sixth part of the town, for into so many wards was the towns.h.i.+p divided at that time; to-day the wards are _quartieri_ or fourth parts. The Guelph party were in power in Florence, and he, from Ghibelline that he was, became Guelph, because of the many benefits he received from that faction, changing the colour of his coat-of-arms, which originally was gules, a dog rampant with a bone in his mouth, argent-to azure, a dog or; and the Signoria afterwards granted him five lilies, gules, in a Rastrello, and at the same time the crest with two horns of a bull, the one or, and the other azure, as may be seen to this day painted on their ancient s.h.i.+elds; the old arms of Messer Simone may be seen in the palace of the Podesta, carved in marble by his orders, according to the custom of those who held that office.

III. The reason why the family in Florence changed their name from Canossa to de'Buonarroti was because the name Buonarroto was usual in their house from age to age, almost always, down to the time of Michael Angelo himself, who had a brother called Buonarroto, and many of these Buonarroti being of the Signori, that is of the supreme magistracy of the Republic; the said brother especially, who was of that body at the time when Pope Leo was in Florence, as may be seen in the annals of the city; this name held by so many of them became a surname for the whole family, the more easily as it is the custom of Florence in the lists of voters and other nomination papers, after the proper name of the citizen, to add that of his father, his grandfather, his great-grandfather, and even of those further removed. Therefore, from the many Buonarroti thus continued, and from that Simone who was the first of the family to settle in Florence, and who was of the House of Canossa, they became Buonarroti Simoni, for so they are called at this day. Lastly, Pope Leo X. being at Florence, besides many other privileges, gave to this family the right to bear on their coat the palla or ball, azure, of the arms of the House of Medici, with three lilies, or

IV. Of such family, then, was Michael Angelo born; his father's name was Lodovico di Leonardo Buonarroti Simoni, a good and religious man, somewhat old-fas.h.i.+oned. Michael Angelo was born to him whilst he was Podesta of Chiusi and Caprese(4) in the Casentino, in the year of our salvation 1474,(5) on the sixth day of March, four hours before daylight on a Monday. A fine nativity truly, which showed how great the child would be and of how n.o.ble a genius; for the planet Mercury with Venus in seconda being received into the house of Jupiter with benign aspect, promised what afterwards followed, that the birth should be of a n.o.ble and high genius, able to succeed in every undertaking, but princ.i.p.ally in those arts that delight the senses, such as painting, sculpture, and architecture. Having completed his term of office, the father returned to Florence and put the child out to nurse in the village of Settignano, three miles from the city, where he had a property, which was one of the first places in that country bought by Messer Simone da Canossa. The nurse was a daughter of a stone-carver and the wife of a stone-carver, so Michael Angelo used to say jestingly, but perhaps in earnest too, that it was no wonder he delighted in the use of the chisel, knowing that the milk of the foster-mother has such power in us that often it will change the disposition, one bent being thus altered to another of a very different nature.

V. The child grew and came to be of a reasonable age. His father, noticing his ability, desired that he should devote himself to letters; he therefore sent him to the school of a certain Maestro Francesco da Urbino, who in those days taught grammar in Florence;(6) but although Michael Angelo made progress in these studies, still the heavens and his nature, both difficult to withstand, drew him towards the study of painting, so that he could not resist, whenever he could steal the time, drawing now here, now there, and seeking the company of painters. Amongst his familiar friends was Francesco Granacci, a scholar of Domenico del Grillandaio,(7) who, seeing the ardent longing and burning desire of the child, determined to aid him, and continually exhorted him to the study of art, now lending him drawings and now taking him with him to the workshops of his master when some works were going forward from which he might learn. These sights moved Michael Angelo so powerfully, following as they did his nature, which never ceased to urge him, that he altogether abandoned letters. So that his father and his uncles, who held the art in contempt, were much displeased, and often beat him severely for it: they were so ignorant of the excellence and n.o.bility of art that they thought shame to have her in the house. This, however much he disliked it, was not enough to turn him back, but, on the contrary, made him more bold: he wished to begin to colour, and he borrowed a print from Granacci which represented the story of St. Antony when he was beaten by devils. The engraver was a certain Martino d'Olanda,(8) a brave artist for that time. Michael Angelo painted it on a panel of wood, Granacci lending him colours and brushes, in such a manner that not only did it raise the admiration of every one who saw it, but also envy, as some will have it, even in Domenico, the most famous painter of the day; as may be seen by what happened afterwards. Domenico used to say that the painting came from his own workshop in order to make it appear less wonderful. In this little picture, besides the figure of the Saint, there were many strange forms and monstrosities in the demons; these Michael Angelo executed with so much care that no part of them was coloured without reference to the natural object from which it had been derived. For that purpose he frequented the fish-market and observed the forms and tints of the scales and fins of fish and the colours of their eyes and all their other parts, copying them in his picture, which much conduced to the perfection of that work, exciting the wonder of the world, and, as I have said, some envy in Grillandaio; this was much more seen one day when Michael Angelo asked to see his book of drawings in which were represented shepherds with their flocks and dogs, landscapes, buildings, ruins, and such like things. Domenico would not lend it to him-indeed, he had the reputation of being a little envious: for not only was he hardly courteous to Michael Angelo, but even to his own brother, when he saw that he was progressing rapidly and having great hopes of himself: he sent him into France, not so much that it might be to his advantage, as some say, but that he himself might remain the first artist in Florence. The reason I have mentioned this is because I have heard it said that the son of Domenico attributes the excellence and divinity of Michael Angelo in great part to the training he received from his father: he received absolutely no a.s.sistance from him;(9) nevertheless, Michael Angelo does not complain of it, nay, even praises Domenico both for his art and his manners. But this is a slight digression; let us return to our story.

VI. Possibly not less wonderful was another labour of Michael Angelo's done at this time, perhaps as a jest. Some one lent him a drawing of a head to copy; he returned his copy to the owner instead of the original and the deception was not noticed, but the boy talking and laughing about it with one of his companions it was found out. Many people compared the two and found no difference in them, for besides the perfection of the drawing, Michael Angelo had smoked the paper to make it appear of the same age as the original. This brought him a great reputation.(10)

VII. Now drawing one thing and now another, the boy had no fixed plan or method of study. It happened one day that Granacci took him to the gardens of the Medici at San Marco. In this garden the Magnificent Lorenzo, father of Pope Leo, a man renowned for every excellence, had disposed many antique statues and decorative sculptures. Michael Angelo, seeing these things and appreciating the beauty of them, never afterwards went to the workshop of Domenico, but spent every day at the gardens, as in a better school, always working at something or other. Amongst the rest, he studied one day the head of a Faun, in appearance very old, with a long beard and a laughing face, although the mouth could hardly be seen because of the injuries of time. As if knowing what would be, or because he liked the style of it, he determined to copy it in marble. The Magnificent Lorenzo was having some marble worked and dressed in that place to ornament the most n.o.ble library that he and his ancestors had gathered together from all parts of the world. (These works, suspended on account of the death of Lorenzo and other accidents, were, after many years, carried on by Pope Clement, but even then they were left unfinished, so that the books are still packed in chests.) Now these marbles being worked, as I said, Michael Angelo begged a piece from the masons and borrowed a chisel from them: with so much diligence and intelligence did he copy that Faun that in a few days it was carried to perfection, his imagination supplying all that was missing in the antique, such as the lips, open, as in a man who is laughing, so that the hollow of the mouth was seen with all the teeth.

At this moment pa.s.sed the Magnificent to see how his works progressed; he found the child, who was busy polis.h.i.+ng the head. He spoke to him at once, noticing in the first place the beauty of the work, and having regard to the lad's youth he marvelled exceedingly, and although he praised the workmans.h.i.+p he none the less joked with him as with a child, saying: "_Oh!

you have made this Faun very old, and yet have left him all his teeth: do you not know that old men of that age always lack some of them?_" It seemed a thousand years to Michael Angelo before the Magnificent went away and he remained alone to correct his error. He cut away a tooth from the upper jaw, drilling a hole in the gums as though it had come out by the roots.(11) He awaited the return of the Magnificent upon another day with great longing. At last he came. Seeing the willingness and single-mindedness of the child he laughed very much, but afterwards appreciating the beauty of the thing and the boy's youth, as father of all talent he thought to bestow his favour upon such a genius and take him into his house, and hearing from him whose son he was, he said: "_Let your father know that I desire to speak with him._"

VIII. When he got home Michael Angelo carried out the emba.s.sy of the Magnificent; his father divining why he was called, with great persuasion from Granacci and others made ready to go: lamenting to himself that his son would be taken away. Stating, moreover, that he would never suffer his son to be a stonemason, it was useless for Granacci to explain how great was the difference between a sculptor and a mason. After all this long disputation he ultimately was ushered into the presence of the Magnificent, who asked him if he would deliver his son over to his care, for he would not neglect him; "_Even so,_" he replied, "_not only Michael Angelo, but all of us, with our lives and all our best faculties, are at the service of your Magnificence._" And when the Magnificent asked what he could do for himself, he replied: "_I have never practised any profession; but have always lived upon my small income and attended to the small property left to me by my ancestors; trying not only to keep it up properly, but also endeavouring to increase it as far as I may with my powers and by my diligence._" The Magnificent then replied: "_Very well, look about you, see if there is not something in Florence that will suit you; make use of me; I will do the best I can for you._" And so dismissing the old man, he gave Michael Angelo a good room in his own house with all that he needed,(12) treating him like a son, with a seat at his table, which was frequented every day by n.o.blemen and men of great affairs. Now they had a custom that those who were present at the beginning of a meal should take their places next to the Magnificent according to their rank, and should not change them, no matter who came in afterwards; so that often Michael Angelo was seated even above the sons of Lorenzo and other persons of quality; for in that house n.o.ble persons abounded: by all of them Michael Angelo was caressed and incited to his honourable work; but above all by the Magnificent, who would often call for him many times in the day to show him engraved gems,(13) cornelians, medals, and such like things of great price, seeing that he had genius and good judgment.

IX. Michael Angelo was between fifteen and sixteen years of age when he entered the house of the Magnificent, and he stayed with him until his death, which was in ninety-two,(14) a s.p.a.ce of two years. During that time an office in the customs fell vacant which could only be held by a Florentine citizen; so Lodovico, the father of Michael Angelo, came to the Magnificent and spoke for it: "_Lorenzo, I can do nothing but read and write; the comrade of Marco Pucci in the Dogana is dead. I should like to have his place. I believe I shall be able to carry out the duties properly._" The Magnificent put his hand upon his shoulder and, smiling, said: "_You will always be poor_," for he expected that he would ask for some great thing. However, he continued, "_If you will be the comrade of Marco, be it so, till something better turns up_." This place brought him eight scudi(15) the month, a little more or a little less.

X. In the meantime Michael Angelo prosecuted his studies, showing the result of his labours to the Magnificent each day. In the same house lived Poliziano, a man, as every one knows, and as is testified by his works, most learned and witty. This man recognising the lofty spirit of Michael Angelo loved him exceedingly, and little as he needed it, spurred him on in his studies, always explaining things to him and giving him subjects.

One day, amongst others, he suggested "The Rape of Deianira" and "The Battle of the Centaurs," telling him in detail the whole of the story.

Michael Angelo set himself to carve it out in marble in mezzo-rilievo, and so well did he succeed, that I remember to have heard him say that when he saw it again he recognised how much wrong he had done to his nature in not following promptly the art of sculpture, judging by that work how well he might have succeeded, nor does he say this boastingly, he was a most modest man, but because he truly laments having been so unfortunate that by the fault of others he has sometimes been ten or twelve years doing nothing, as will be seen presently. This particular work may still be seen in Florence in his house; the figures are about two palms high.(16) He had hardly finished this work when the Magnificent Lorenzo pa.s.sed out of this life, and Michael Angelo returned to his father's house. So much grief did he feel for his patron's death that for many days he was unable to work.

When he was himself again he bought a large piece of marble, that had for many years been exposed to the wind and rain, and carved a Hercules out of it, four braccia high, that was ultimately sent into France.(17)

XI. Whilst he was working at this statue there was a great snowstorm in Florence, and Pier de' Medici, the eldest son of Lorenzo, who occupied the same position as his father, wished childishly to have a statue of snow made in the middle of the court-yard, so he remembered Michael Angelo, and had him found and made him carve the statue.(18) He desired him to live in his house as he had done in his father's time, and gave him the same apartment and a place at the table as before; where the same customs obtained as when the father was living, that is, that after they had sat down at the beginning of a meal no one should change his place however great might be the personage who came in afterwards.

XII. Lodovico, the father of Michael Angelo, now became more friendly to his son, seeing that he was almost always in the society of great personages, and he dressed him in finer clothes. The youth lived with Piero some months and was much caressed by him. Piero used to say, boastingly, that he had two remarkable men in his establishment: one was Michael Angelo, and the other a certain Spanish groom who, besides being marvellously beautiful to look upon, was so nimble and strong and so long-winded that, let Piero ride as fast as he could, he was not able to pa.s.s the runner by a finger.

XIII. At this time, Michael Angelo, to please the Prior of Santo Spirito, a church much venerated in Florence, carved a crucifix in wood, a little under life size, which to this day may be seen over the high altar of that church.(19) He had much familiar intercourse with the Prior, and received many kindnesses from him, amongst others the use of a room and subjects to enable him to study anatomy. Nothing could have given him more pleasure, and this was the beginning of his study of the science of anatomy, which he followed until fortune had made him a master of it.(20)

XIV. There was living in the house of Piero a certain man named Cardiere, who had been very acceptable to the Magnifico, he improvised songs to the lyre most marvellously; in fact, he made a profession of it, and practised his art nearly every evening after supper. This man was friendly with Michael Angelo and imparted to him a vision, which was this: That Lorenzo de' Medici had appeared to him with nothing but a black cloak, all torn, over his naked body, and had commanded him to speak to his son, and tell him that shortly he would be hunted out of his house and never return to it again. Piero de' Medici was so proud and insolent that neither the generosity of his brother, Giovanni the Cardinal, nor the courtesy and kindness of Giuliano, were so powerful to keep him in Florence as those vices were to hunt him out. Michael Angelo exhorted Cardiere to inform Piero of the vision and carry out the will of Lorenzo, but he, fearing Piero's nature, kept all to himself. One other morning Michael Angelo was in the court-yard of the Palace, and beheld Cardiere all terrified and weeping: that night, he said, Lorenzo had appeared to him again in the same form as at first, and looking him through and through had given him a terrible box on the ears, because he had not reported what he had seen to Piero. Michael Angelo scolded him to such purpose that Cardiere plucked up his spirit and set out on foot for Careggi, a country house of the Medici, about three miles from the city, where his master was staying. But when he was half-way there he met Piero on the road returning home to Florence; Cardiere stopped him and told him all he had seen and heard. Piero only laughed at him, and made even his grooms jeer at him. The Chancellor, who was afterwards the Cardinal Bibbiena, said to him: "_You must be mad! Do you think Lorenzo would rather appear to you or to his own son? Would he not rather appear to him than to any one else?_" They ridiculed him and let him go. He went home and bemoaned himself to Michael Angelo, and he spoke so effectually of the vision, holding that the thing was true, that two days afterwards with two companions they left Florence together for Bologna, and from there went to Venice, fearful lest that which Cardiere prophesied should come to pa.s.s, and Florence not be safe for them!

XV. In a few days lack of funds (his companions having spent all his money) made Michael Angelo think of returning to Florence; but coming to Bologna a curious chance hindered them. Now there was a law in that land in the time of Messer Giovanni Bentivogli that every stranger who entered into Bologna should be obliged to have a great seal of red wax impressed upon his nail. Michael Angelo inadvertently entered without being sealed, so he was conducted, together with his companions, to the office of the Bullette, and condemned to pay a fine of fifty Bolognese lire: not having the wherewithal he was obliged to remain at the office. A certain Bolognese gentleman, Messer Gian Francesco Aldovrandi, who was then of the Sixteen, seeing him there, and hearing the reason, liberated him, chiefly because he was a sculptor. Aldovrandi invited the sculptor to his house.

Michael Angelo thanked him, but excused himself because he had two companions with him who would not leave him, and he would not burden the gentleman with their company. To this the gentleman replied: "_I, too, will come and wander over the world with you, if you will pay my expenses._" With these and other words he prevailed over Michael Angelo, who excused himself to his companions and took leave of them, gave them what little money he had, and went to lodge with the gentleman.

XVI. By this time the House of the Medici, with all their followers, having been hunted out of Florence, came to Bologna and were lodged in the House of the Rossi. Thus the vision of Cardiere, whether a delusion of the devil, a divine warning, or a strong imagination that had taken hold of him, was verified; a thing so truly remarkable that it is worthy of being recorded. I have narrated it just as I heard it from Michael Angelo himself. It was about three years after the death of the Magnificent Lorenzo that his children were exiled from Florence, so that Michael Angelo was between twenty and twenty-one years of age when he escaped the first popular tumults by remaining with the aforesaid gentleman of Bologna until the city of Florence settled down again. This gentleman honoured him highly, delighting in his genius, and every evening he made him read something from Dante or from Petrarca, or now and then from Boccaccio, until he fell asleep.

XVII. One day walking together in Bologna they went to see the ark of San Domenico, in the Church dedicated to that Saint; two marble figures were still lacking, a San Petronio and a kneeling angel supporting a candlestick in his arms. The gentleman asked Michael Angelo if he had the heart to undertake them, and he replying "yes," had it arranged that he should have them to do; he was paid thirty ducats for it, eighteen for the San Petronio, and twelve for the angel. The figures were three palms high; they may still be seen in that same place. But afterwards Michael Angelo mistrusted a Bolognese sculptor, who complained that he had taken away the commission for the before-mentioned statues from him, as it had first been promised to him, and as he threatened to do him an injury Michael Angelo went back to Florence to accommodate matters,(21) as affairs had now become quiet and he could live safely in his house. He remained with Messer Gian Francesco Aldovrandi a little over a year.

CHAPTER II

THE BACCHUS AND THE MADONNA DELLA PIETa OF SAINT PETER'S

XVIII. Having returned to his native town Michael Angelo set to work to carve out of marble a G.o.d of Love, between six and seven years of age, lying asleep; this figure was seen by Lorenzo di Pier Francesco de' Medici (for whom in the meantime Michael Angelo had carved a little Saint John), and he judged that it was most beautiful and said of it: "_If you can manage to make it look as if it had been buried under the earth I will forward it to Rome, it will be taken for an antique and you will sell it much better._" Michael Angelo hearing this immediately prepared it as one from whom no craft was hidden, so that it looked as if it had been made many years ago. In this state it was sent to Rome; the Cardinal di San Giorgio bought it as an antique for two hundred ducats; though the man who took all that money only paid thirty ducats to Michael Angelo as what he had received for the Cupid. So much of a rogue was he that he deceived at the same time both Lorenzo di Pier Francesco and Michael Angelo.(22) But meanwhile it came to the ear of the Cardinal how the putto was made in Florence. Angry at being made a fool of, he sent one of his gentlemen there, who pretended to be looking for a sculptor to do some work in Rome.

After visiting many others he came to the house of Michael Angelo; with a wary eye for what he wanted he observed the young man and inquired of him if he could let him see any work; but Michael Angelo not having any to show, took a pen (for in those days the pencil was not in general use) and drew a hand with so much ease that the gentleman was astonished.

Afterwards he inquired if he had never done any works of sculpture. Yes, replied Michael Angelo, and amongst the rest a Cupid, in such and such a pose and action. The gentleman understood then that he had found the man he sought, and narrated how the affair had gone, and promised him that if he would come with him to Rome he would make the dealer disgorge, and arrange matters with his lord which he knew would be much to his satisfaction. Michael Angelo then, partly to see Rome, so much be praised by the gentleman as the widest field for a man to show his genius in, went with him and lodged in his house near the palace of the Cardinal, who, advised by letter in the meantime how the matter stood, laid hands on the merchant who had sold the Cupid to him as an antique, returned the statue to him, and got his money back; it afterwards came, I know not how, into the hands of the Duke Valentino, and was presented to the Marchesana of Mantua. She sent it to Mantua, where it is still to be found in the house of the lords of that city.(23) The Cardinal di San Giorgio was blamed in this affair by many, for the work was seen by all the craftsmen of Rome, and all, equally, considered it most beautiful; they thought that he ought not to have deprived himself of it for the sake of two hundred scudi, although it was modern, as he was a very rich man. But he, smarting under the deceit, being able to punish the man, made him disburse the remainder of the payment. But n.o.body suffered more than Michael Angelo, who never received anything more for it than the money paid him in Florence.

Cardinal di San Giorgio understood little and was no judge of sculpture, as is shown clearly enough by the fact that all the time Michael Angelo remained with him, which was about a year, he did not give him a single commission.(24)

XIX. All the same, others were not wanting who understood such things and who made use of Michael Angelo. For Messer Iacopo Galli, a Roman gentleman of good understanding, made him carve a marble Bacchus, ten palms in height, in his house; this work in form and bearing in every part corresponds to the description of the ancient writers-his aspect, merry; the eyes, squinting and lascivious, like those of people excessively given to the love of wine. He holds a cup in his right hand, like one about to drink, and looks at it lovingly, taking pleasure in the liquor of which he was the inventor; for this reason he is crowned with a garland of vine leaves. On his left arm he has a tiger's skin, the animal dedicated to him, as one that lives on grapes; and the skin was represented rather than the animal, as Michael Angelo desired to signify that he who allows his senses to be overcome by the appet.i.te for that fruit, and the liquor pressed from it, ultimately loses his life. In his left hand he holds a bunch of grapes, which a merry and alert little satyr at his feet furtively enjoys. He appears to be about seven years old, and the Bacchus eighteen.(25) The said Messer Iacopo desired also that he would carve him a little Cupid.(26) Both of these works may still be seen in the house of Messer Giuliano and Messer Paolo Galli, courteous and worthy gentlemen, with whom Michael Angelo has always retained a real and cordial friends.h.i.+p.

XX. A little afterwards, at the request of the Cardinal de San Dionigi (called the Cardinal Rovano), he carved from a block of marble that marvellous statue of our Lady, which is now in the church of the Madonna della Febbre;(27) although at first it was placed in the chapel of the King of France in the Church of Santa Petronilla, near to the Sacristy of Saint Peter's, formerly, according to some, a temple of Mars; this church was destroyed by Bramante for the sake of his design for the new Saint Peter's. The Madonna is seated on the stone upon which the Cross was erected, with her dead son on her lap. He is of so great and so rare a beauty, that no one beholds it but is moved to pity. A figure truly worthy of the Humanity which belonged to the Son of G.o.d, and to such a Mother; nevertheless, some there be who complain that the Mother is too young compared to the Son. One day as I was talking to Michael Angelo of this objection, "_Do you not know_," he said, "_that chaste women retain their fresh looks much longer than those who are not chaste? How much more, therefore, a virgin in whom not even the least unchaste desire ever arose?

And I tell you, moreover, that such freshness and flower of youth besides being maintained in her by natural causes, it may possibly be that it was ordained by the Divine Power to prove to the world the virginity and perpetual purity of the Mother. It was not necessary in the Son; but rather the contrary; wis.h.i.+ng to show that the Son of G.o.d took upon himself a true human body subject to all the ills of man, excepting only sin; he did not allow the divine in him to hold back the human, but let it run its course and obey its laws, as was proved in His appointed time. Do not wonder then that I have, for all these reasons, made the most Holy Virgin, Mother of G.o.d, a great deal younger in comparison with her Son than she is usually represented. To the Son I have allotted His full age_."

Considerations worthy of any theologian, wonderful perhaps in any one else, but not in Michael Angelo, whom G.o.d and Nature have formed not only for his unique craftsmans.h.i.+p, but also capable of any, the most divine, conceptions, as may be seen not only in this but in very many of his arguments and writings. He may have been twenty-four or twenty-five years old when he finished this work. He gained great fame and reputation by it, so that already, in the opinion of the world, not only did he greatly surpa.s.s all others of the time and of the times before, but also he challenged the ancients themselves.