ject.

"Michelangelo's sagacity with regard to the importance of S. Miniato
guaranteed the safety of the town, and proved a source of great damage
to the enemy. Although he had taken care to secure the position, he
still remained at his post there, in case of accidents; and after
passing some six months, rumours began to circulate among the soldiers
about expected treason. Buonarroti, then, noticing these reports, and
being also warned by certain officers who were his friends, approached
the Signory, and laid before them what he had heard and seen. He
explained the danger hanging over the city, and told them there was
still time to provide against it, if they would. Instead of receiving
thanks for this service, he was abused, and rebuked as being timorous
and too suspicious. The man who made him this answer would have done
better had he opened his ears to good advice; for when the Medici
returned he was beheaded, whereas he might have kept himself alive.
When Michelangelo perceived how little his words were worth, and in
what certain peril the city stood, he caused one of the gates to be
opened, by the authority which he possessed, and went forth with two
of his comrades, and took the road for Venice."

As usual with Condivi, this paragraph gives a general and yet
substantially accurate account of what really took place. The decisive
document, however, which throws light upon Michelangelo's mind in the
transaction, is a letter written by him from Venice to his friend
Battista della Palla on the 25th of September. Palla, who was an agent
for Francis I. in works of Italian art, antiques, and bric-a-brac, had
long purposed a journey into France; and Michelangelo, considering the
miserable state of Italian politics, agreed to join him. These
explanations will suffice to make the import of Michelangelo's letter
clear.

"Battista, dearest friend, I left Florence, as I think you know,
meaning to go to France. When I reached Venice, I inquired about the
road, and they told me I should have to pass through German territory,
and that the journey is both perilous and difficult. Therefore I
thought it well to ask you, at your pleasure, whether you are still
inclined to go, and to beg you; and so I entreat you, let me know, and
say where you want me to wait for you, and we will travel together, I
left home without speaking to any of my friends, and in great
confusion. You know that I wanted in any case to go to France, and
often