there with a few friends, listening to the holy word. Michael Angelo was not of the company. When the Epistle was finished the amiable woman said to the stranger, with a smile:
"Francis of Holland would doubtless have more willingly heard a discourse of Michael Angelo than this sermon."
To which Francis—stupidly offended—replied:
"Indeed, Madame? Does it seem to your Excellency that I have sense for nothing else and am only good for painting?"
"Do not be so susceptible, Messer Francesco," said Lattanzio Tolomei. "The Marchesa is quite convinced that a painter is good for everything. So much do we Italians esteem painting! But perhaps she said that merely to add to the pleasure which you have had—that of hearing Michael Angelo."
Francis was then lost in apologies, and the Marchesa said to one of her servants:
"Go to Michael Angelo's and tell him that Messer Lattanzio and I have remained, after the close of the religious service, in this chapel, where it is agreeably cool. If he would consent to lose a little of his time,
we should profit greatly. . . . But," she added, knowing Michael Angelo's unsociableness, "do not tell him that the Spaniard Francis of Holland is here."
Awaiting the servant's return they fell into conversation, endeavouring to find out by what means they could lead Michael Angelo to speak on the subject of painting, but without him suspecting their intention, for, if he
