of his speech, together with the look and colour of
his face, made me feel extremely uneasy about his life.
The end may not be just now, but I fear greatly that
it cannot be far off.” Michelangelo did
not leave the house again, but spent the next four
days partly reclining in an arm-chair, partly in bed.
Upon the 15th following, Diomede Leoni wrote to Lionardo,
enclosing a letter by the hand of Daniele da Volterra,
which Michelangelo had signed. The old man felt
his end approaching, and wished to see his nephew.
“You will learn from the enclosure how ill he
is, and that he wants you to come to Rome. He
was taken ill yesterday. I therefore exhort you
to come at once, but do so with sufficient prudence.
The roads are bad now, and you are not used to travel
by post. This being so, you would run some risk
if you came post-haste. Taking your own time upon
the way, you may feel at ease when you remember that
Messer Tommaso dei Cavalieri, Messer Daniele, and
I are here to render every possible assistance in
your absence. Beside us, Antonio, the old and
faithful servant of your uncle, will be helpful in
any service that may be expected from him.”
Diomede reiterates his advice that Lionardo should
run no risks by travelling too fast. “If
the illness portends mischief, which God forbid, you
could not with the utmost haste arrive in time....
I left him just now, a little after 8 P.M., in full
possession of his faculties and quiet in his mind,
but oppressed with a continued sleepiness. This
has annoyed him so much that, between three and four
this afternoon, he tried to go out riding, as his wont
is every evening in good weather. The coldness
of the weather and the weakness of his head and legs
prevented him; so he returned to the fire-side, and
settled down into an easy chair, which he greatly
prefers to the bed.” No improvement gave
a ray of hope to Michelangelo’s friends, and
two days later, on the 17th, Tiberio Calcagni took
up the correspondence with Lionardo: “This
is to beg you to hasten your coming as much as possible,
even though the weather be unfavourable. It is
certain now that our dear Messer Michelangelo must
leave us for good and all, and he ought to have the
consolation of seeing you.” Next day, on
the 18th, Diomede Leoni wrote again: “He
died without making a will, but in the attitude of
a perfect Christian, this evening, about the Ave Maria.
I was present, together with Messer Tommaso dei Cavalieri
and Messer Daniele da Volterra, and we put everything
in such order that you may rest with a tranquil mind.
Yesterday Michelangelo sent for our friend Messer Daniele,
and besought him to take up his abode in the house
until such time as you arrive, and this he will do.”
It was at a little before five o’clock on the afternoon of February 18, 1564, that Michelangelo breathed his last. The physicians who attended him to the end were Federigo Donati, and Gherardo Fidelissimi, of Pistoja. It is reported by Vasari that, during his last moments, “he made his will in three sentences, committing his soul into the hands of God, his body to the earth, and his substance to his nearest relatives; enjoining upon these last, when their hour came, to think upon the sufferings of Jesus Christ.”