but her mind matched his, and was of a cast too high and excellent to
allow him to swerve from his high ideals. Yet the love ended unhappily,
and in some mysterious way gave a tinge of melancholy and a secret spring
of sorrow to the whole long life of the artist.

Jealous competitors made their influence felt. Michelangelo found his
work relegated to corners and his supplies cut short.

At this time an invitation came from Florence for him to come and make
use of a gigantic block of marble that had lain there at the city gate,
blackening in the dirt, for a century.

The Florence that had banished him, now begged him to come back.

"Those who once leave Florence always sigh to return," says Dante. He
returned, and at once began work on the "David." The result was the
heroic statue that stood for three hundred years at the entrance to the
Palazzo Vecchio, only a hundred feet from where Savonarola was hanged and
burned. The "David" is now in the Belle d' Arte, and if the custodian
will allow you to climb up on a ladder you will see that the top of the
head shows the rough unfinished slab, just as it was taken from the
quarry. Any one but a master would have finished the work.

This magnificent statue took nearly two years to complete. As a study of
growing youth, boldly recognizing all that is awkward and immature, it
has never ceased to cause wordy warfare to reign in the camp of the
critics. "The feet, hands and head are all too large," the Athenians say.
But linger around the "old swimmin'-hole" any summer day, and you will
see tough, bony, muscular boys that might have served as a model for the
"David."