Is all too weak to make me soar so high,
     For pardon, lady, for this fault I cry,
     And wiser still I grow, remembering it. 
  Yea, well I see what folly ’twere to think
     That largess dropped from thee like dews from heaven
     Could e’er be paid by work so frail as mine! 
  To nothingness my art and talent sink;
     He fails who from his mortal stores hath given
     A thousandfold to match one gift divine.

Michelangelo’s next letter refers to the design for the Crucified Christ, described by Condivi.  It is pleasant to find that this was sent by the hand of Cavalieri:  “Lady Marchioness,—­Being myself in Rome, I thought it hardly fitting to give the Crucified Christ to Messer Tommaso, and to make him an intermediary between your ladyship and me, your servant; especially because it has been my earnest wish to perform more for you than for any one I ever knew upon the world.  But absorbing occupations, which still engage me, have prevented my informing your ladyship of this.  Moreover, knowing that you know that love needs no taskmaster, and that he who loves doth not sleep, I thought the less of using go-betweens.  And though I seemed to have forgotten, I was doing what I did not talk about in order to effect a thing that was not looked for.  My purpose has been spoiled:  He sins who faith like this so soon forgets.”

A sonnet which may or may not have been written at this time, but seems certainly intended for the Marchioness, shall here be given as a pendant to the letter:—­

  Blest spirit, who with loving tenderness
    Quickenest my heart, so old and near to die,
    Who ’mid thy joys on me dost bend an eye,
    Though many nobler men around thee press! 
  As thou wert erewhile wont my sight to bless,
    So to console, my mind thou now dost fly;
    Hope therefore stills the pangs of memory,
    Which, coupled with desire, my soul distress. 
  So finding in thee grace to plead for me—­
    Thy thoughts for me sunk in so sad a case—­
    He who now writes returns thee thanks for these. 
    Lo! it were foul and monstrous usury
    To send thee ugliest paintings in the place
    Of thy fair spirit’s living phantasies.

Unfortunately we possess no other document in prose addressed immediately to Vittoria.  But four of her letters to him exist, and from these I will select some specimens reflecting light upon the nature of the famous intimacy.  The Marchioness writes always in the tone and style of a great princess, adding that peculiar note of religious affectionateness which the French call “onction,” and marking her strong admiration of the illustrious artist.  The letters are not dated; but this matters little, since they only turn on literary courtesies exchanged, drawings presented, and pious interests in common.