Roman workmen, who worked on the mausoleum of Julius II., and who thought he had become a great sculptor, without having taken care, because, by following Michael Angelo's instructions implicitly, he had produced from a block of marble, to his astonishment, a beautiful statue; the facetious goldsmith, Piloto, surnamed Lasca; the lazy Indaco, that singular painter "who loved chattering as much as he detested painting," and who was accustomed to say that "continual work without pleasure was unworthy of a Christian"; and especially the ridiculous and inoffensive Giuhano Bugiardini, for whom Michael Angelo felt special sympathy.
"Giuliano possessed a natural kindness, a simple manner of living, without either wickedness or envy, which greatly pleased Michael Angelo, His only fault was a too great love for his own works. But Michael Angelo used to consider him happy, because he was contented with his knowledge, whereas he himself was never fully satisfied with his own works. ... On one occasion, Messer Ottaviano de' Medici asked Giuliano to paint Michael Angelo's portrait. Giuliano set to work, and, after keeping Michael Angelo seated for two hours, without speaking a word, said to him: 'Michael Angelo, come and see how I have caught your expression.' Michael Angelo rose, and looking at the portrait, said, laughing: 'What the devil have you done? You have put one eye on my temple—look here a moment.' At these words Giuliano was beside himself. Looking several times at the portrait and his model, alternately, he boldly replied: 'I do not notice it, but sit down and I will correct it, if need be.' Michael Angelo, who knew how the effect had arisen, sat down, smiling, in front of Giuliano, who, after