We must not be deceived by this good humour. Michael Angelo could not endure being ugly. To a man like himself, appreciating physical beauty more than any one, ugliness was a disgrace.[1] We find traces of his humiliation in some of his madrigals.[2] His sorrow was so much the more acute as, the whole of his life he was consumed with love, which does not appear ever to have been returned. Consequently he retired within himself, putting all his tenderness and troubles into his poetry.
The composition of verse—a pressing necessity with him—dated from his earliest years. He covered his drawings, letters and loose sheets of paper with thoughts, to which he afterwards returned and ceaselessly polished. Unfortunately, in 1518, he burnt the greater number of
- ↑ Henry Thode has rightly pointed out this trait of his character in the first volume of his "Michelangelo und das Ende der Renaissance," 1902, Berlin.
- ↑ ". . . Since the Lord yields to souls their bodies after death for peace or eternal torment, I beseech Him to leave mine, although ugly, in heaven, as upon the earth, near yours, for a loving heart is equivalent to a beautiful face."
". . .Priego 'l mie benchè bructo,
Com' è qui teco, il voglia im paradiso:
C'un cor pietoso val quant' un bel viso. . . ."
("Poems," cix, 12.)"Heaven seems justly irritated that I am mirrored so ugly in your beautiful eyes."
"Ben par che'l ciel s'adiri,
Che 'n si begli ochi i' mi veggia si bructo…."
("Poems," cix, 93.)
and addressed to Giovanni da Pistoja, is dated by Frey June-July 1510. Michael Angelo alludes in the final lines to the difficulties he has encountered in painting the Sistine frescoes, and he makes excuse for them on the ground that this is not his profession. "Therefore, Giovanni, defend my dead work, and defend my honour; for painting is not part of my business. I am not a painter."
