It is greater To raise the dead to life than to create Phantoms that seem to live.

The most majestic Of the three sister arts is that which builds; The eldest of them all, to whom the others Are but the hand-maids and the servitors, Being but imitation, not creation.
Henceforth I dedicate myself to her.
BENVENUTO.
And no more from the marble hew those forms That fill us all with wonder?
MICHAEL ANGELO.
Many statues Will there be room for in my work.

Their station Already is assigned them in my mind.
But things move slowly.

There are hindrances, Want of material, want of means, delays And interruptions, endless interference Of Cardinal Commissioners, and disputes And jealousies of artists, that annoy me.
But twill persevere until the work Is wholly finished, or till I sink down Surprised by death, that unexpected guest, Who waits for no man's leisure, but steps in, Unasked and unannounced, to put a stop To all our occupations and designs.
And then perhaps I may go back to Florence; This is my answer to Duke Cosimo.
VI MICHAEL ANGELO'S STUDIO MICHAEL ANGELO and URBINO.
MICHAEL ANGELO, pausing in his work.
Urbino, thou and I are both old men.
My strength begins to fail me.
URBINO.
Eccellenza.
That is impossible.

Do I not see you Attack the marble blocks with the same fury As twenty years ago?
MICHAEL ANGELO.
'T is an old habit.
I must have learned it early from my nurse At Setignano, the stone-mason's wife; For the first sounds I heard were of the chisel chipping away the stone.
URBINO.
At every stroke You strike fire with your chisel.
MICHAEL ANGELO.
Ay, because The marble is too hard.
URBINO.
It is a block That Topolino sent you from Carrara.
He is a judge of marble.
MICHAEL ANGELO.
I remember.
With it he sent me something of his making,-- A Mercury, with long body and short legs, As if by any possibility A messenger of the gods could have short legs.
It was no more like Mercury than you are, But rather like those little plaster figures That peddlers hawk about the villages As images of saints.