No More Learning

One must be chosen for it. I have been
Your color-grinder six and twenty years,
And am not yet an artist.

MICHAEL ANGELO.
Some have eyes
That see not; but in every block of marble
I see a statue,--see it as distinctly
As if it stood before me shaped and perfect
In attitude and action. I have only
To hew away the stone walls that imprison
The lovely apparition, and reveal it
To other eyes as mine already see it.
But I grow old and weak. What wilt thou do
When I am dead, Urbino?

URBINO.
Eccellenza,
I must then serve another master.

MICHAEL ANGELO.
Never!
Bitter is servitude at best. Already
So many years hast thou been serving me;
But rather as a friend than as a servant.
We have grown old together. Dost thou think
So meanly of this Michael Angelo
As to imagine he would let thee serve,
When he is free from service?
Take this purse,
Two thousand crowns in gold.

URBINO.
Two thousand crowns!

MICHAEL ANGELO.
Ay, it will make thee rich. Thou shalt not die
A beggar in a hospital.

URBINO.
Oh, Master!

MICHAEL ANGELO.
I cannot have them with me on the journey
That I am undertaking. The last garment
That men will make for me will have no pockets.

URBINO, kissing the hand of MICHAEL ANGELO.
My generous master!

MICHAEL ANGELO.
Hush!

URBINO.