ONE of the first things I did was to go and kiss the Pope’s feet; and
while I was speaking with his Holiness, Messer Averardo Serristori, our
Duke’s Envoy, arrived. [1] I had made some proposals to the Pope, which
I think he would have agreed upon, and I should have been very glad to
return to Rome on account of the great difficulties which I had at
Florence. But I soon perceived that the ambassador had countermined me.
Then I went to visit Michel Agnolo Buonarroti, and repeated what I had
written from Florence to him in the Duke’s name. He replied that he was
engaged upon the fabric of S. Peter’s, and that this would prevent him
from leaving Rome. I rejoined that, as he had decided on the model of
that building, he could leave its execution to his man Urbino, who would
carry out his orders to the letter. I added much about future favours,
in the form of a message from the Duke. Upon this he looked me hard in
the face, and said with a sarcastic smile: “And you! to what extent are
you satisfied with him?” Although I replied that I was extremely
contented and was very well treated by his Excellency, he showed that he
was acquainted with the greater part of my annoyances, and gave as his
final answer that it would be difficult for him to leave Rome. To this I
added that he could not do better than to return to his own land, which
was governed by a prince renowned for justice, and the greatest lover of
the arts and sciences who ever saw the light of this world. As I have
remarked above, he had with him a servant of his who came from Urbino,
and had lived many years in his employment, rather as valet and
housekeeper than anything else; this indeed was obvious, because he had
acquired no skill in the arts. [2] Consequently, while I was pressing
Michel Agnolo with arguments he could not answer, he turned round
sharply to Urbino, as though to ask him his opinion. The fellow began to
bawl out in his rustic way: “I will never leave my master Michel
Agnolo’s side till I shall have flayed him or he shall have flayed me.”
These stupid words forced me to laugh, and without saying farewell, I
lowered my shoulders and retired.
Note 1. His despatches form a valuable series of historical documents.
'Firenze,' Le Monnier, 1853.
Note 2. Upon the death of this Urbino, Michel Agnolo wrote a touching
sonnet and a very feeling letter to Vasari.