raises bridges there, places mines elsewhere, and keeps the garrison on the alert at the gates and on the walls. But finally the Marchesa carried the day. And truly no one could defend himself against her.
"Well," said she, "we must indeed recognise that we are always conquered when we attack Michael Angelo with his own arms, that is to say with cunning. We must speak to him, Messer Lattanzio, on the subject of lawsuits, papal briefs, or else . . . painting if we would reduce him to silence and have the last word."
This ingenious détour led the conversation on to the subject of art. Vittoria informed Michael Angelo of a religious construction which she proposed to raise, and immediately Michael Angelo offered to examine the site and draw up a plan.
"I should never have dared to ask so great a service," replied the Marchesa, "although I know that in everything you follow the teachings of the Lord, who lowers the haughty and raises up the humble. . . . Consequently, those who know you esteem the person of Michael Angelo much more than his works, whilst those who do not know you personally glorify the weakest part of yourself—that is to say, the work of your hands. But I praise you no less for so often withdrawing aside, fleeing from our useless conversations, and, instead of painting all the princes who come to beg you to do their portraits, for devoting almost the whole of your life to a single great work."
Michael Angelo modestly declined these compliments, and expressed his aversion for chatterers and idlers—whether great lords or popes—who thought it permissible to impose their society on an artist, when even now his
