rage that he aimed a blow at Michelangelo with
his fist, which not only broke his nose but crushed it in such a way
that he was marked for life. He had had a rough, rugged look before
this, but now the crooked nose gave him almost a savage expression
which he never lost.

Changes followed fast after this time of quiet. Lorenzo the Magnificent
died, and his son, the weak Piero de Medici, tried to take his place as
ruler of Florence. For a time Michelangelo continued to live at the
court of Piero, but it was not encouraging to work for a master whose
foolish taste demanded statues to be made out of snow, which, of
course, melted at the first breath of spring.

Michelangelo never forgot all that he owed to Lorenzo, and he loved the
Medici family, but his sense of justice made him unable to take their
part when trouble arose between them and the Florentine people. So when
the struggle began he left Florence and went first to Venice and then
to Bologna. From afar he heard how the weak Piero had been driven out
of the city, but more bitter still was his grief when the news came
that the solemn warning voice of the great preacher Savonarola was
silenced for ever.

Then a great longing to see his beloved city again filled his heart,
and he returned to Florence.

Botticelli was a sad, broken-down old man now, and Ghirlandaio was also
growing old, but Florence was still rich in great artists. Leonardo da
Vinci, Perugino, and Filippino Lippi were all there, and men talked of
the coming of an even greater genius, the young Raphael of Urbino.

There happened just then to be at the works of the Cathedral of St.
Mary of the Flowers a huge block of marble which no one knew how to
use. Leonardo da Vinci had been invited to carve a statue out of it,
but he had refused to try, saying he could do nothing with it. But when
the marble was offered to Michelangelo his eye kindled and he stood for
a long time silent before the great white block. Through the outer
walls of stone he seemed to see the figure imprisoned in the marble,
and his giant strength and giant mind longed to go to work to set that
figure free.

And when the last covering of marble was chipped and cut away there
stood out a magnificent figure of the young David. Perhaps he is too
strong and powerful for our idea of the gentle shepherd-lad, but he is
a wonderful figure, and Goliath might well have trembled to meet such a
young giant.

People flocked to see the great