thou do?” ‘‘Serve some one else,” replied Urbino. “Thou poor creature! ” returned Michelagnolo, “I must save thee from that;” whereupon he gave him two thousand crowns at one time, a mode of proceeding befitting the Caesars and high Princes of the world. To his nephew also, he has more than once given three and four thousand crowns at a time, and has finally left him ten thousand crowns, besides the property in Rome.
Michelagnolo had remarkable strength of memory, insomuch that, after having once seen a work of any other artist he would remember it so perfectly that, if it pleased him to make use of any portion thereof, he could do so in such a manner that none could perceive it. In his youth he was once supping with some painters his friends, when they amused themselves with trying who could best produce one of those figures without design and of intense ugliness, such as those who know nothing are wont to scratch on the walls. Here his memory came to his aid, he remembered precisely the sort of absurdity required, and which he had seen on a wall; this he reproduced as exactly as if he had had it before his eyes, surpassing all the painters around him: a very difficult thing for a man so accomplished in design, and so exclusively accustomed to the most elevated and finished works of mastery as was Michelagnolo.
He proved himself resentful, but with good reason, against those who had done him wrong, yet he never sought to avenge himself by any act of injury or violence; very orderly in all his proceedings, modest in his deportment, prudent and reasonable in discourse, usually earnest and serious, yet sometimes amusing, ingenious, and quick in reply; many of his remarks have been remembered and well merit to be repeated here, but I will add only a few of these recollections. A friend once speaking to him of death, remarked that Michelagnolo’s constant labours for art, leaving him no repose, must needs make him think of it with great regret. “By no means,” replied Michelagnolo, “for if life be a pleasure, yet, since death also is sent by the hand of the same master, neither should that displease us.” To a citizen who observed him standing at Or San Michele, to look at the San Marco of Donato, and who inquired what he thought of that statue, he replied, that he had never seen a face looking more like that of a good man; adding, “If
