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She would go home at once; not to the pleasure-gardens, not anywhere but back to the cottage; and José followed her meekly, struck dumb. He had seen her wilful, capricious, childishly passionate, a little hard to understand, many times before, but never like this. What had occurred to her? What had Sebastiano done?
"I will go and speak to Jovita," said José, and he went, leaving the four together. The two simpler ones were somewhat abashed by the splendor of the dashing figure; they gazed at it with mingled curiosity and joy. To be so near it was enough, without effort at conversation. Sebastiano moved to Pepita's side. A Spanish lover loses little time. "I saw you," he said, "at the bull-fight."
Only Pepita sat without color or applause only Pepita's fan was motionless amidst all the fluttering though her breast moved up and down, and the throbbing in her side was like the beating of a hammer. She was speaking to herself, though her lips were closed; she was speaking to Sebastiano. "He will look soon," she was saying. "He will look as he did that first day. My eyes will make him look.
"Because we beat Don Pietro Casale. Don Pietro cheated him last year. I saw the cottonseed oil he mixed with the good, in that load we brought down." "Perhaps the fishing is not for fish," suggested little Sebastiano, curling himself up and laying his head on the end of the chock. They did not know what time it was when Don Antonino gently stirred them with his big foot.
It is probable that he then formed the friendship with Cavalieri, which played so important a part in his personal history. A brisk correspondence carried on between him and his two friends, Bartolommeo Angelini and Sebastiano del Piombo, shows that he resided at Florence during the summer and early autumn of 1533.
So that Fra Sebastiano gathered great store of alms, part of which he redistributed amongst the poor, part of which he was saving to build a bridge over the Bagnanza torrent, in crossing which so many poor folk had lost their lives.
Lucrezia loved Sebastiano with passion, but she would have let him kiss her in public and been proud of it. What was the use of delicacy, of sensitiveness, in the great, coarse thing called life? Even Maurice had not shared her feeling. He was open as a boy, almost as a peasant boy. She began to wonder about him. She often wondered about him now in Sicily. In England she never had.
Michael Angelo seems to have taken exception to the remark, for Sebastiano in his next letter but one says:—
"Ebbene, signorino, to-night there is a festa in their house. It is the festa of Pancrazio, her cousin. Sebastiano will be there to play, and they will dance, and " "Lucrezia wants to go?" "Si, signore, but she is afraid to ask." "Afraid! Of course she can go, she must go. Tell her. But at night can she come back alone?"
The vault, too, of Agostino Chigi has been exposed to view, and is a thing truly disgraceful to a great artist, far worse than the last hall of the Palace. Sebastiano has nothing to fear." We gladly turn from these quarrels to what Sebastiano teaches us about Michelangelo's personal character. The general impression in the world was that he was very difficult to live with.
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