In spite of these precautions, Lapo seems to have gained the ear of Michelangelo’s father, who wrote a scolding letter in his usual puzzle-headed way.  Michelangelo replied in a tone of real and ironical humility, which is exceedingly characteristic:  “Most revered father, I have received a letter from you to-day, from which I learn that you have been informed by Lapo and Lodovico.  I am glad that you should rebuke me, because I deserve to be rebuked as a ne’er-do-well and sinner as much as any one, or perhaps more.  But you must know that I have not been guilty in the affair for which you take me to task now, neither as regards them nor any one else, except it be in doing more than was my duty.”  After this exordium he proceeds to give an elaborate explanation of his dealings with Lapo, and the man’s roguery.

The correspondence with Buonarroto turns to a considerable extent upon a sword-hilt which Michelangelo designed for the Florentine, Pietro Aldobrandini.  It was the custom then for gentlemen to carry swords and daggers with hilt and scabbard wonderfully wrought by first-rate artists.  Some of these, still extant, are among the most exquisite specimens of sixteenth-century craft.  This little affair gave Michelangelo considerable trouble.  First of all, the man who had to make the blade was long about it.  From the day when the Pope came to Bologna, he had more custom than all the smiths in the city were used in ordinary times to deal with.  Then, when the weapon reached Florence, it turned out to be too short.  Michelangelo affirmed that he had ordered it exactly to the measure sent, adding that Aldobrandini was “probably not born to wear a dagger at his belt.”  He bade his brother present it to Filippo Strozzi, as a compliment from the Buonarroti family; but the matter was bungled.  Probably Buonarroto tried to get some valuable equivalent; for Michelangelo writes to say that he is sorry “he behaved so scurvily toward Filippo in so trifling an affair.”

Nothing at all transpires in these letters regarding the company kept by Michelangelo at Bologna.  The few stories related by tradition which refer to this period are not much to the sculptor’s credit for courtesy.  The painter Francia, for instance, came to see the statue, and made the commonplace remark that he thought it very well cast and of excellent bronze.  Michelangelo took this as an insult to his design, and replied:  “I owe the same thanks to Pope Julius who supplied the metal, as you do to the colourmen who sell you paints.”  Then, turning to some gentlemen present there, he added that Francia was “a blockhead.”  Francia had a son remarkable for youthful beauty.  When Michelangelo first saw him he asked whose son he was, and, on being informed, uttered this caustic compliment:  “Your father makes handsomer living figures than he paints them.”  On some other occasion, a stupid Bolognese gentleman asked whether he thought his statue or a pair of oxen were the bigger.  Michelangelo replied:  “That is according to the oxen.  If Bolognese, oh! then with a doubt ours of Florence are smaller.”  Possibly Albrecht Duerer may have met him in the artistic circles of Bologna, since he came from Venice on a visit during these years; but nothing is known about their intercourse.