in 1494, to force a
disgraceful treaty on the city. The scene was the Medici Palace in
the Via Larga. The paper was ready for signature and Capponi would
not sign. "Then I must bid my trumpets blow," said Charles. "If you
sound your trumpets," Capponi replied, "we will ring our bells;"
and the King gave way, for he knew that his men had no chance in this
city if it rose suddenly against them.

But the glory of the Palazzo Vecchio tower--afer its proportions--is
that brilliant inspiration of the architect which led him, so to
speak, to begin again by setting the four columns on the top of the
solid portion. These pillars are indescribably right: so solid
and yet so light, so powerful and yet so comely. Their duty was
to support the bells, and particularly the Vacca, when he rocked
his gigantic weight of green bronze to and fro to warn the city.
Seen from a distance the columns are always beautiful; seen close
by they are each a tower of comfortable strength. And how the wind
blows through them from the Apennines!

The David on the left of the Palazzo Vecchio main door is only a copy.
The original stood there until 1873, when, after three hundred and
sixty-nine years, it was moved to a covered spot in the Accademia,
as we shall there see and learn its history. If we want to know what
the Palazzo Vecchio looked like at the time David was placed there,
a picture by Piero di Cosimo in our National Gallery tells us, for
he makes it the background of his portrait of Ferrucci, No. 895.

The group on the right represents Hercules and Cacus, [5] and
is by Baccio Bandinelli (1485-1560), a coarse and offensive man,
jealous of most people and particularly of Michelangelo, to whom,
but for his displeasing Pope Clement VII, the block of marble from
which the Hercules was carved would have been given. Bandinelli in
his delight at obtaining it vowed to surpass that master's David,
and those who want to know what Florence thought of his effort should
consult the amusing and malicious pages of Cellini's Autobiography.
On its way to Bandinelli's studio the block fell into the Arrio, and
it was a joke of the time that it had drowned itself to avoid its fate
at the sculptor's hands. Even after he had half done it, there was a
moment when Michelangelo had an opportunity of taking over the stone
and turning it into a Samson, but the siege of Florence intervened,
and eventually Bandinelli had his way and the hideous thing now on
view w