Some time in 1545 Luigi went to Lyons on a visit to Ruberto Strozzi and Giuliano de’ Medici.  This seems to have happened toward the end of the year; for we possess a letter indorsed by him, “sent to Lyons, and returned upon the 22nd of December.”  This document contains several interesting details.  “All your friends are extremely grieved to hear about your illness, the more so that we cannot help you; especially Messer Donato (Giannotti) and myself.  However, we hope that it may turn out to be no serious affair, God willing.  In another letter I told you that, if you stayed away long, I meant to come to see you.  This I repeat; for now that I have lost the Piacenza ferry, and cannot live at Rome without income, I would rather spend the little that I have in hostelries, than crawl about here, cramped up like a penniless cripple.  So, if nothing happens, I have a mind to go to S. James of Compostella after Easter; and if you have not returned, I should like to travel through any place where I shall hear that you are staying.  Urbino has spoken to Messer Aurelio, and will speak again.  From what he tells me, I think that you will get the site you wanted for the tomb of Cecchino.  It is nearly finished, and will turn out handsome.”

Michelangelo’s project of going upon pilgrimage to Galicia shows that his health was then good.  But we know that he soon afterwards had another serious illness; and the scheme was abandoned.

This long and close friendship with Luigi comes to a sudden termination in one of those stormy outbursts of petulant rage which form a special feature of Michelangelo’s psychology.  Some angry words passed between them about an engraving, possibly of the Last Judgment, which Buonarroti wanted to destroy, while Del Riccio refused to obliterate the plate:—­

“Messer Luigi,—­You seem to think I shall reply according to your wishes, when the case is quite the contrary.  You give me what I have refused, and refuse me what I begged.  And it is not ignorance which makes you send it me through Ercole, when you are ashamed to give it me yourself.  One who saved my life has certainly the power to disgrace me; but I do not know which is the heavier to bear, disgrace or death.  Therefore I beg and entreat you, by the true friendship which exists between us, to spoil that print (stampa), and to burn the copies that are already printed off.  And if you choose to buy and sell me, do not so to others.  If you hack me into a thousand pieces, I will do the same, not indeed to yourself, but to what belongs to you.

“Michelangelo Buonarroti.

“Not painter, nor sculptor, nor architect, but what you will, but not a drunkard, as you said at your house.”

Unfortunately, this is the last of the Del Riccio’s letters.  It is very probable that the irascible artist speedily recovered his usual tone, and returned to amity with his old friend.  But Del Riccio departed this life toward the close of this year, 1546.