was alluring also on account of his youth, so attractive
to Renaissance sculptors and poets, and the Florentines' admiration
was not diminished by the circumstance that his task was a singularly
light one, since he never came to close quarters with his antagonist
at all and had the Lord of Hosts on his side. A David of mythology,
Perseus, another Florentine hero, a stripling with what looked like
a formidable enemy, also enjoyed supernatural assistance.

David appealed to the greatest sculptors of all--to Michelangelo,
to Donatello, and to Verrocchio; and Michelangelo made two figures,
one of which is here and the other at the Accademia, and Donatello
two figures, both of which are here, so that, Verrocchio's example
being also here, very interesting comparisons are possible.

Personally I put Michelangelo's small David first; it is the one
in which, apart from its beauty, you can best believe. His colossal
David seems to me one of the most glorious things in the world; but it
is not David; not the simple, ruddy shepherd lad of the Bible. This
David could obviously defeat anybody. Donatello's more famous David,
in the hat, upstairs, is the most charming creature you ever saw,
but it had been far better to call him something else. Both he and
Verrocchio's David, also upstairs, are young tournament nobles rather
than shepherd lads who have slung a stone at a Philistine bully. I see
them both--but particularly perhaps Verrocchio's--in the intervals of
strife most acceptably holding up a lady's train, or lying at her feet
reading one of Boccaccio's stories; neither could ever have watched
a flock. Donatello's second David, behind the more famous one, has
more reality; but I would put Michelangelo's smaller one first. And
what beautiful marble it is--so rich and warm!

One point which both Donatello's and Verrocchio's David emphasizes
is the gulf that was fixed between the Biblical and religious
conception of the youthful psalmist and that of these sculptors of the
Renaissance. One can, indeed, never think of Donatello as a religious
artist. Serious, yes; but not religious, or at any rate not religious
in the too common sense of the word, in the sense of appertaining
to a special reverential mood distinguished from ordinary moods of
dailiness. His David, as I have said, is a comely, cultured boy,
who belongs to the very flower of chivalry and romance. Verrocchio's
is akin to him, but he has less radiant mastery. Donatello