Think of me As one who, in the midst of all his follies, Had also his ambition, and aspired To better things.
MICHAEL ANGELO.
Do not forget the vision.
[Sitting down again to the Divina Commedia.
Now in what circle of his poem sacred Would the great Florentine have placed this man?
Whether in Phlegethon, the river of blood, Or in the fiery belt of Purgatory, I know not, but most surely not with those Who walk in leaden cloaks.

Though he is one Whose passions, like a potent alkahest, Dissolve his better nature, he is not That despicable thing, a hypocrite; He doth not cloak his vices, nor deny them.
Come back, my thoughts, from him to Paradise.
IV.
FRA SEBASTIANO DEL PIOMBO MICHAEL ANGELO; FRA SEBASTIANO DEL PIOMBO.
MICHAEL ANGELO, not turning round.
Who is it?
FRA SEBASTIANO.
Wait, for I am out of breath In climbing your steep stairs.
MICHAEL ANGELO.
Ah, my Bastiano, If you went up and down as many stairs As I do still, and climbed as many ladders, It would be better for you.

Pray sit down.
Your idle and luxurious way of living Will one day take your breath away entirely.
And you will never find it.
FRA SEBASTIANO.
Well, what then?
That would be better, in my apprehension, Than falling from a scaffold.
MICHAEL ANGELO.
That was nothing It did not kill me; only lamed me slightly; I am quite well again.
FRA SEBASTIANO.
But why, dear Master, Why do you live so high up in your house, When you could live below and have a garden, As I do?
MICHAEL ANGELO.
From this window I can look On many gardens; o'er the city roofs See the Campagna and the Alban hills; And all are mine.
FRA SEBASTIANO.
Can you sit down in them, On summer afternoons, and play the lute Or sing, or sleep the time away?
MICHAEL ANGELO.
I never Sleep in the day-time; scarcely sleep at night.
I have not time.

Did you meet Benvenuto As you came up the stair?
FRA SEBASTIANO.
He ran against me On the first landing, going at full speed; Dressed like the Spanish captain in a play, With his long rapier and his short red cloak.
Why hurry through the world at such a pace?
Life will not be too long.
MICHAEL ANGELO.
It is his nature,-- A restless spirit, that consumes itself With useless agitations.

He o'erleaps The goal he aims at.