best understands it; and in
such wise that certain carnal-minded men, who do not comprehend the love
of beauty, have taken occasion to think and speak evil of him, as if
Alcibiades, a youth of perfect beauty, had not been purely loved by
Socrates, from whose side he arose as from the side of his father. I have
often heard Michael Angelo reason and discourse of Love, and learned
afterwards from those who were present that he did not speak otherwise of
Love than is to be found written in the works of Plato. For myself I do
not know what Plato says of Love, but I know well that I, who have known
Michael Angelo so long and so intimately, have never heard issue from his
mouth any but the most honest of words, which had the power to extinguish
in youth every ill-regulated and unbridled desire which might arise. By
this we may know that no evil thoughts were born in him. He loved not only
human beauty, but universally every beautiful thing--a beautiful horse, a
beautiful dog, a beautiful country, a beautiful plant, a beautiful
mountain, a beautiful forest, and every place and thing beautiful and rare
after its kind, admiring them all with a marvellous love; thus choosing
the beauty in nature as the bees gather honey from the flowers, using it
afterwards in his works, as all those have done who have ever made a noise
in painting. That old master who had to paint a Venus was not content to
see one virgin only, but studied many, and taking from each her most
beautiful and perfect feature gave them to his Venus; and, in truth, who
ever expects to arrive at a true theory of art without this method of
study is greatly mistaken.

LXVI. All through his life Michael Angelo has been very abstemious, taking
food more from necessity than from pleasure, especially when at work, at
which time, for the most part, he has been content with a piece of bread,
which he munched whilst he laboured. But latterly he has lived more
regularly, his advanced age requiring it. I have often heard him say:
"_Ascanio, rich man as I have made myself, I have always lived as a poor
one._" And as he took little food so he took little sleep, which, as he
says, rarely did him any good, for sleeping almost always made his head
ache, and too much sleep made his stomach bad. When he was more robust he
often slept in his clothes and with his buskins on; this he made a habit
of for fear of the cramp, from which he continually suffered, besides
other reasons; and he has