The admiration and the good-will of the great lady transpire in these somewhat incoherent and studied paragraphs.  Their verbiage leaves much to be desired in the way of logic and simplicity.  It is pleasanter perhaps to read a familiar note, sent probably by the hand of a servant to Buonarroti’s house in Rome.

“I beg you to let me have the crucifix a short while in my keeping, even though it be unfinished.  I want to show it to some gentlemen who have come from the Most Reverend the Cardinal of Mantua.  If you are not working, will you not come to-day at your leisure and talk with me?—­Yours to command,

“The Marchioness of Pescara.”

It seems that Michelangelo’s exchange of letters and poems became at last too urgent.  We know it was his way (as in the case of Luigi del Riccio) to carry on an almost daily correspondence for some while, and then to drop it altogether when his mood changed.  Vittoria, writing from Viterbo, gives him a gentle and humorous hint that he is taking up too much of her time: 

“Magnificent Messer Michelangelo,—­I did not reply earlier to your letter, because it was, as one might say, an answer to my last:  for I thought that if you and I were to go on writing without intermission according to my obligation and your courtesy, I should have to neglect the Chapel of S. Catherine here, and be absent at the appointed hours for company with my sisterhood, while you would have to leave the Chapel of S. Paul, and be absent from morning through the day from your sweet usual colloquy with painted forms, the which with their natural accents do not speak to you less clearly than the living persons round me speak to me.  Thus we should both of us fail in our duty, I to the brides, you to the vicar of Christ.  For these reasons, inasmuch as I am well assured of our steadfast friendship and firm affection, bound by knots of Christian kindness, I do not think it necessary to obtain the proof of your good-will in letters by writing on my side, but rather to await with well-prepared mind some substantial occasion for serving you.  Meanwhile I address my prayers to that Lord of whom you spoke to me with so fervent and humble a heart when I left Rome, that when I return thither I may find you with His image renewed and enlivened by true faith in your soul, in like measure as you have painted it with perfect art in my Samaritan.  Believe me to remain always yours and your Urbino’s.”

This letter must have been written when Michelangelo was still working on the frescoes of the Cappella Paolina, and therefore before 1549.  The check to his importunacy, given with genial tact by the Marchioness, might be taken, by those who believe their liaison to have had a touch of passion in it, as an argument in favour of that view.  The great age which Buonarroti had now reached renders this, however, improbable; while the general tenor of their correspondence is that of admiration for a great artist on the lady’s side, and of attraction to a noble nature on the man’s side, cemented by religious sentiment and common interests in serious topics.