Council and demand that they should punish
Michelangelo for his hard words. This of course
the Council refused to do, and Perugino left
Florence for Perugia, angry and sore at heart.

It seemed hard, after all his struggles and great
successes, that as he grew old people should begin
to tire of his work, which they had once thought
so perfect.

But if the outside world was sometimes
disappointing, he had always his home to turn to, and
his beautiful wife Chiare. He had married her in
his beloved Perugia, and she meant all the joy of
life to him. He was so proud of her beauty that he
would buy her the richest dresses and most costly
jewels, and with his own hands would deck her with
them. Her brown eyes were like the depths of
some quiet pool, her fair face and the wonderful
soul that shone there were to him the most perfect
picture in the world.

`I will paint thee once, that the world may be the
richer,' said Perugino, `but only once, for thy
beauty is too rare for common use. And I will
paint thee not as an earthly beauty, but thou shalt
be the angel in the story of Tobias which thou
knowest.'

So he painted her as he said. And in our own