The letter ends with an assurance that if anything could persuade him to break a resolution he had formed, and to revisit Rome, it would be his great anxiety to view the Last Judgment of the Sistine Chapel with his own eyes.  Michelangelo sent an answer which may be cited as an example of his peculiar irony.  Under the form of elaborate compliment it conceals the scorn he must have conceived for Aretino and his insolent advice.  Yet he knew how dangerous the man could be, and felt obliged to humour him.

“Magnificent Messer Pietro, my lord and brother,—­The receipt of your letter gave me both joy and sorrow.  I rejoiced exceedingly, since it came from you, who are without peer in all the world for talent.  Yet at the same time I grieved, inasmuch as, having finished a large part of the fresco, I cannot realise your conception, which is so complete, that if the Day of Judgment had come, and you had been present and seen it with your eyes, your words could not have described it better.  Now, touching an answer to my letter, I reply that I not only desire it, but I entreat you to write one, seeing that kings and emperors esteem it the highest favour to be mentioned by your pen.  Meanwhile, if I have anything that you would like, I offer it with all my heart.  In conclusion, do not break your resolve of never revisiting Rome on account of the picture I am painting, for this would be too much.”

Aretino’s real object was to wheedle some priceless sketch or drawing out of the great master.  This appears from a second letter written by him on the 20th of January 1538.  “Does not my devotion deserve that I should receive from you, the prince of sculpture and of painting, one of those cartoons which you fling into the fire, to the end that during life I may enjoy it, and in death carry it with me to the tomb?” After all, we must give Aretino credit for genuine feelings of admiration toward illustrious artists like Titian, Sansovino, and Michelangelo.  Writing many years after the date of these letters, when he has seen an engraving of the Last Judgment, he uses terms, extravagant indeed, but apparently sincere, about its grandeur of design.  Then he repeats his request for a drawing.  “Why will you not repay my devotion to your divine qualities by the gift of some scrap of a drawing, the least valuable in your eyes?  I should certainly esteem two strokes of the chalk upon a piece of paper more than all the cups and chains which all the kings and princes gave me.”  It seems that Michelangelo continued to correspond with him, and that Benvenuto Cellini took part in their exchange of letters.  But no drawings were sent; and in course of time the ruffian got the better of the virtuoso in Aretino’s rapacious nature.  Without ceasing to fawn and flatter Michelangelo, he sought occasion to damage his reputation.  Thus we find him writing in January 1546 to the engraver Enea Vico, bestowing high praise upon a copper-plate which a certain Bazzacco had made