who made those fine bronzes, the Christ and the Saint Thomas, which can be seen on the façade of Orsammichele; and other statues besides, even the admirable David of the divine Michael Angelo Buonarroti, which, he said, only looked well if seen from the front. Then he spoke of his own Hercules and Cacus, and the abusive sonnets which had been written on it; and went on to hurl insults at the people of Florence. The Duke, who was far too much influenced by him, had egged him on to say this, and felt confident that the thing would turn out as he said; for Bandinelli's heart was so full of envy that he never stopped from evil-speaking. And once when that hangman Bernardone, the broker, was present, he said to the Duke, by way of giving weight to Bandinelli's words, "My lord, you must know that to make great statues is a very different matter from making little figures. I don't mean to say he has not done these little trifles very cleverly; but you will see that in this larger work he will have no success. And so he went on concocting his calumnies, like the treacherous spy that he was, piling up a whole mountain of falsehood. Now, as it pleased my glorious Lord, the immortal God, I brought the thing at last to its end; and one Thursday morning I showed it openly to the whole city. No sooner had I removed the screen, though the sun was barely risen, than a great multitude of people gathered round-it would be impossible to say how many-and all with one voice strove who should laud it highest. The Duke stood at one of the lower windows of the Palace, just above the door; and there, half hidden in the embrasure, he heard every word that was said about the statue. When he had stayed listening for several hours, he got up in the best of spirits, and turning to Messer Sforza, one of his gentlemen, he said, "Sforza, go and find Benvenuto, and tell him from me that he has satisfied me far more than I expected. Tell him also that I shall satisfy him in a way that will surprise him. And so let him be of good heart." And Messer Sforza came to me on his splendid errand, which gave me great comfort. That day was a very happy one for me, what with this good news from the Duke, and with the people pointing me out to this stranger and that, as some really marvelous and unheard-of wonder. Amongst those who were most complimentary to me were two gentlemen, ambassadors from the Viceroy of Sicily to our Duke on some affairs of state. These two most courteous men met me in the Piazza. I had been pointed out to them as I passed, and they were all eagerness to come at me. So now, cap in hand, they made me such a speech of ceremony that it would have more than satisfied a pope. I bowed as low as I could; but they so overwhelmed me with their politeness that I entreated them to be good enough to come out of the Piazza with me; for the people were stopping to look at me more than they did at my Perseus. In the midst of all their ceremonious speeches they had the face to propose I should go to Sicily, promising to make a most satisfactory bargain with me. They went on to tell me how Fra Giovan Agnolo de' Servi had made them a complete fountain, adorned with many figures; but that it had none of that excellence displayed in my Perseus, though, they added, they had made at rich man of him. They would have gone on at greater length; but I broke in, "I am very much astonished at your seeking to persuade me to leave the service of so great a lord. No prince was ever so great a lover of the arts as he. Besides, I am here in my native city, the school of all the higher arts. Oh, if I had craved for riches, I might have remained in France in the service of the great King Francis, who gave me a thousand gold crowns for my maintenance, in addition to paying for all the works I did for him, so that I made more than four thousand gold crowns a year. And I left in Paris the labors of four years." With these and other words of the kind, I made short work of their courtesies. Yet I thanked them for the great praise they had bestowed on me, than which no better reward can be given to the labors of an artist. They had, I said, so increased my desire to do well, that I hoped in a few years' time to be able to show another work, which I believed would give much more satisfaction to the noble Florentine school than the one they had seen. The two gentlemen would fain have picked up the thread of their ceremonious eloquence; but with a sweep of my cap and a low bow, I bade them adieu. 36 CONVERSATIONS OF SAMUEL JOHNSON 1 James Boswell HIS is to me [James Boswell] a memorable year; for in 1763 TH extraordinary man whose memoirs I am now writing; an Mr. Thomas Davies the actor, who then kept a bookseller's shop in Russel Street, Covent Garden, told me that Johnson was very much his friend, and came frequently to his house, where he more than once invited me to meet him: but by some unlucky accident or other he was prevented from coming to us. Mr. Thomas Davies was a man of good understanding and talents, with the advantage of a liberal education. Though somewhat pompous, he was an entertaining companion; and his literary performances have no inconsiderable share of merit. He was a friendly and very hospitable man. Both he and his wife (who has been celebrated for her beauty), though upon the stage for many years, maintained an uniform decency of character; and Johnson esteemed them, and lived in as easy an intimacy with them as with any family which he used to visit. Mr. Davies recollected several of Johnson's remarkable sayings, and was one of the best of the many imitators of his voice and manner, while relating them. He increased my impatience 1 From The Life of Samuel Johnson. The passages selected are presented in their original order, and are dated by the marginal figures. The text is considerably modernized. 1763 more and more to see the extraordinary man whose works I highly valued, and whose conversation was reported to be so peculiarly excellent. At last, on Monday the 16th of May, when I was sitting in Mr. Davies's back parlor, after having drunk tea with him and Mrs. Davies, Johnson unexpectedly came into the shop; and Mr. Davies having perceived him through the glass door in the room in which we were sitting, advancing towards us--he announced his awful approach to me, somewhat in the manner of an actor in the part of Horatio, when he addresses Hamlet on the appearance of his father's ghost, "Look, my lord, it comes." I found that I had a very perfect idea of Johnson's figure, from the portrait of him painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds soon after he had published his Dictionary, in the attitude of sitting in his easy chair in deep meditation; which was the first picture his friend did for him, which Sir Joshua very kindly presented to me, and from which an engraving has been made for this work. Mr. Davies mentioned my name, and respectfully introduced me to him. I was much agitated; and recollecting his prejudice against the Scotch, of which I had heard much, I said to Davies, “Don't tell where I come from." -"From Scotland," cried Davies, roguishly. "Mr. Johnson,” said I, “I do indeed come from Scotland, but I cannot help it." I am willing to flatter myself that I meant this as light pleasantry to soothe and conciliate him, and not humiliating abasement at the expense of my country. But however that might be, this speech was somewhat unlucky; for with that quickness of wit for which he was so remarkable, he seized the expression "come from Scotland," which I used in the sense of being of that country; and, as if I had said that I had come away from it, or left it, retorted, "That, sir, I find, is what a very great many of your countrymen cannot help.” This stroke stunned me a good deal; and when we had sat down, I felt myself not a little embarrassed, and apprehensive as an |