Page:The Life of Michael Angelo.djvu/221

Rh The older he grew the more solitary he became. He felt the need, when all Rome was asleep, of taking refuge in nocturnal work. Silence was a blessing to him, night a friend.

"O Night, O sweet though sombre time, when every effort ends in peace, he who extols you clearly sees and comprehends, and he who honours you is full of discernment. You cut with your scissors every weary thought, which the damp shadow and the quiet penetrate; and often from this earth you carry me, in imagination, to that heaven where I hope to go. O shadow of death, which stops all misery, the enemy of the soul and the heart, O supreme and effectual remedy of the afflicted, you render health to our ailing flesh, you dry our tears, you relieve us of our fatigue, and you rid the good of hatred and disgust."

Vasari visited the old man one night and found him in his deserted house engaged on his tragic Pietà" and wrapped in meditation.

"When Vasari knocked, Michael Angelo rose and came to the door, with a candlestick in his hand. Vasari wished to look at the piece of sculpture, but Michael Angelo let the light fall, so that they were in darkness. And whilst Urbino was fetching another, the Master turned