"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