fortune, but the gates are still in their places." But he urged his nephew to marry, and was much gratified when, in May, 1554, Leonardo's wife bore him a son. Vasari sent him an account of the christening festivities, and he thanked him for thinking of the poor old man in Rome, but complained there had been too much pomp and show, and told his nephew that he had done wrong in "celebrating a birth with a mirth and rejoicing that should rather be reserved for the death of one who has lived well." In these last days of increasing feebleness he spent much of his time in reading Savonarola's sermons, and often spoke of the great Friar whom he honoured as the champion of the liberties of Florence and of the faith of Christ.
In 1555, he suffered a heavy loss in the death of his faithful servant Urbino, over whom he sorrowed deeply'
"Even more than dying," he wrote to Vasari, "it grieved him to leave me alive in this treacherous world, with so many troubles, and yet the better part of me is gone with him."
He lingered on eight years, tenderly cared for by his friends Condivi and Tommaso Cavalieri and the artist Daniele da Volterra, until the 18th of February, 1564, when he passed quietly away at the hour of the Ave Maria, begging his friends, when their last hour came, to "think upon the sufferings of Jesus Christ."
So entirely did the Romans consider Michelangelo to be one of themselves, that they made preparations for his burial in the SS. Apostoli, and his nephew Leonardo was obliged to remove the body by night
