JULIUS. 
                I have seen his model,
And have approved it.  But here comes the artist. 
Beware of him.  He may make Persians of you,
To carry burdens on your backs forever.

SCENE II.

The same:  MICHAEL ANGELO.

JULIUS. 
Come forward, dear Maestro!  In these gardens
All ceremonies of our court are banished. 
Sit down beside me here.

MICHAEL ANGELO, sitting down. 
                       How graciously
Your Holiness commiserates old age
And its infirmities!

JULIUS. 
                    Say its privileges. 
Art I respect.  The building of this palace
And laying out these pleasant garden walks
Are my delight, and if I have not asked
Your aid in this, it is that I forbear
To lay new burdens on you at an age
When you need rest.  Here I escape from Rome
To be at peace.  The tumult of the city
Scarce reaches here.

MICHAEL ANGELO. 
                  How beautiful it is,
And quiet almost as a hermitage!

JULIUS. 
We live as hermits here; and from these heights
O’erlook all Rome and see the yellow Tiber
Cleaving in twain the city, like a sword,
As far below there as St. Mary’s bridge. 
What think you of that bridge?

MICHAEL ANGELO. 
                       I would advise
Your Holiness not to cross it, or not often
It is not safe.

JULIUS. 
                It was repaired of late.

MICHAEL ANGELO. 
Some morning you will look for it in vain;
It will be gone.  The current of the river
Is undermining it.

JULIUS. 
                  But you repaired it.

MICHAEL ANGELO. 
I strengthened all its piers, and paved its road
With travertine.  He who came after me
Removed the stone, and sold it, and filled in
The space with gravel.

JULIUS. 
                     Cardinal Salviati
And Cardinal Marcello, do you listen? 
This is your famous Nanni Baccio Bigio.

MICHAEL ANGELO, aside. 
There is some mystery here.  These Cardinals
Stand lowering at me with unfriendly eyes.

JULIUS. 
Now let us come to what concerns us more
Than bridge or gardens.  Some complaints are made
Concerning the Three Chapels in St. Peter’s;
Certain supposed defects or imperfections,
You doubtless can explain.

MICHAEL ANGELO. 
                     This is no longer
The golden age of art.  Men have become
Iconoclasts and critics.  They delight not
In what an artist does, but set themselves
To censure what they do not comprehend. 
You will not see them bearing a Madonna
Of Cimabue to the church in triumph,
But tearing down the statue of a Pope
To cast it into cannon.  Who are they
That bring complaints against me?