Knights of the Art; stories of the Italian painters by Amy Steedman
page 80 of 216 (37%)
page 80 of 216 (37%)
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`Not at all,' said Botticelli. `Why should I take
it down? Can I not do as I like with my own house?' And this taught the weaver a lesson, so that he made less noise and shaking, and Sandro had the best of the joke after all. There were no idle days of dreaming now for Sandro. As soon as one picture was finished another was wanted. Money flowed in, and his purse was always full of gold, though he emptied it almost as fast as it was filled. His work for the Pope at Rome alone was so well paid that the money should have lasted him for many a long day, but in his usual careless way he spent it all before he returned to Florence. Perhaps it was the gay life at Lorenzo's splendid court that had taught him to spend money so carelessly, and to have no thought but to eat, drink, and be merry. But very soon a change began to steal over his life. There was one man in Florence who looked with sad condemning eyes on all the pleasure-loving crowd that thronged the court of Lorenzo the Magnificent. In the peaceful convent of San Marco, whose walls the angel-painter had covered with pictures `like windows into heaven,' the |
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