Clement VII., who did not take this artist-like despair very seriously, insisted on his continuing work on the Medici chapel. His friends could not understand his scruples and counselled him not to be so ridiculous as to refuse his allowance. One of them gave him a good shaking for having acted without reflection and begged him not to give way in the future to his manias.[1] Another wrote:
"They tell me that you have refused your allowance, abandoned your house and stopped work. That seems to me to be an act of sheer madness. My friend, you are playing into the hands of your enemies . . . Occupy yourself, therefore, no longer with the mausoleum of Julius II. and take your allowance; for they give it willingly."[2]
Michael Angelo determined to have his own way, so the pontifical treasury played him the trick of taking him at his word, and the allowance was stopped. A few months later the wretched man, at the last extremity, was reduced to begging for what he had refused. He did so, at first, timidly and full of shame.
"My dear Giovanni, since the pen is ever bolder than the tongue, I write to say to you what I have often been wanting to say of recent days, and what I have not had the courage to express to you by word of mouth. May I still count on an allowance? ... If I were certain that I should no longer receive it, that would in no way change my plans—I should still continue to work for the
