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 MONNA LISA; OR, THE QUEST 
 OF THE WOMAN SOUL 
 
 OP CALIF. T. T BPAHY. LOS ANGELES
 
 MONNA LISA 
 
 OR 
 THE QUEST OF THE WOMAN SOUL 
 
 TRANSCRIBED BY 
 
 GUGLIELMO SCALA 
 
 ENDrCQTT 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1911, 
 BY THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY 
 
 Published September, 1911.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 THE original of the following translation 
 was a dilapidated manuscript discovered in a 
 heap of rubbish in one of the old palaces of 
 Florence which was undergoing alterations. 
 This manuscript was undoubtedly one of the 
 lost works of the great artist Leonardo da 
 Vinci. The chirography was certainly his, 
 written backward with the left hand, from 
 right to left, and requiring the use of a mirror 
 to decipher it. There was also his character- 
 istic spelling, together with his peculiar fash- 
 ion of often running two or three words into 
 one to suit his convenience or the whim of the 
 moment. Besides, many passages were of 
 similar import to others which have been 
 made known through the facsimile reproduc- 
 tions of Leonardo 's writings, and from which 
 it has been shown that it was a common habit 
 of the artist to write out over and over in 
 different phraseology those thoughts that 
 seemed to have especially pleased him. Fi- 
 
 v 
 
 21,12637
 
 vi PEEFACE 
 
 nally, on the inside of the cover which was 
 of gray cardboard and decorated by Da 
 Vinci's favorite design of twisted cords and 
 knots was the following inscription, written 
 in the delicate handwriting of the eighteenth 
 century : 
 
 "1753, 5 Marzo This codicetto (little 
 manuscript) of Leonardo da Vinci belonged 
 formerly to the Signore Don Giambattista 
 Salucci, cavaliere of Milan, but living in Flor- 
 ence, and I, Gaetano Caccia, of Novara, 
 bought it from the said cavaliere for twenty 
 gigliati." 
 
 The task of deciphering and translating 
 this manuscript was of varying difficulty ; for, 
 though the first part was in a state of excel- 
 lent preservation, the middle of the book was 
 considerably torn and gnawed, probably by 
 mice, and much of the concluding pages ren- 
 dered illegible by mould. Where only a few 
 words were missing, which could be readily 
 inferred from the context, these have been 
 supplied; in defective passages which were 
 paralleled by others in the facsimile publica- 
 tions, the work of such learned decipherers of 
 the master's handwriting as Kichter, Eavais- 
 son-Mollieu, and Uzielli was of great assist-
 
 PREFACE vii 
 
 ance ; still, there were many portions where it 
 was thought best to make no attempt at res- 
 toration, but to leave the reader to supply 
 from his own imagination what was wanting. 
 
 It should be stated, however, that in ar- 
 ranging the translation for publication, the 
 solid matter of the original has been divided 
 into paragraphs, chapters, and books ; quota- 
 tion marks have been supplied; and many a 
 now superfluous dissi (said I) and disse (said 
 he or she) have been omitted. Also, as the 
 codicetto had neither title nor sub-titles, 
 those which now appear have been inferred 
 from the narrative. 
 
 Shortly after the translation was com- 
 pleted the original manuscript was unfortu- 
 nately destroyed by an accident, so that the 
 following pages contain all that survives of 
 what was probably the last writing of the 
 great master of the Eenaissance. 
 
 GUGLIELMO So ALA.
 
 .CONTENTS 
 BOOK I SALAI 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PBOEMIO 3 
 
 I. THE WOMAN SOUL 7 
 
 II. THE FAVORITE PUPH. 14 
 
 III. IN THE CHURCH 20 
 
 IV. A GBEAT LADY 24 
 
 V. A YOUNG GALEOTTO 32 
 
 VI. THE CONTRACT 42 
 
 VII. THE FIRST SITTINGS 46 
 
 BOOK II LEONAKDO 
 
 I. THE FLIGHT OF BIRDS 59 
 
 II. THE ZINGABA . 66 
 
 III. IN THE STUDIO 75 
 
 IV. THE TELESCOPE 100 
 
 V. A WOMAN'S SYMPATHY 104 
 
 BOOK III LISA 
 
 I. YOUTHFUL PASSION 113 
 
 II. A DIFFICULTY 124 
 
 III. THE CAVEBN 129 
 
 ix
 
 x CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 IV. THE FLESH OF WOMAN 133 
 
 V. THE BANQUET .......... 137 
 
 VI. THE LETTEBS . . . . ,. . . . 141 
 
 VII. AT THE VILLA ........ . 159 
 
 VIII. IN THE LOGGIA 167 
 
 IX. DARKNESS AND FLIGHT 173 
 
 X. A SPIBIT IN PRISON 178 
 
 XL THE DAGGER 184 
 
 XII. FRANCESCO'S STORY 188 
 
 XIII. THE BIRTH OF A Soui, . 193 
 
 XIV. THE PORTRAIT 199 
 
 XV. CONCLUSION . .. . w ,.. -. . 201
 
 MONNA LISA; OR, THE QUEST 
 OF THE WOMAN SOUL 
 
 PUBLISHERS' NOTE 
 
 To avoid any misconception on the part of 
 readers of this romance of "Honna Lisa," the 
 publishers would explain that the work is one 
 of pure fiction. "Guglielmo Scala" is the 
 pen name adopted by an American literary 
 worker who has devoted long study to Italian 
 art and literature and who takes this method 
 of sharing with the public the web of imagina- 
 tion woven for his own pleasure about Da 
 Vinci and the subject of his famous portrait.
 
 PEOEMIO 
 
 I, LEONAEDO VINCIO, on the seventh day of 
 July, 1518, being now sixty-six years of age, 
 having my right hand paralyzed and incapa- 
 ble of using the brush to fix in colors the vi- 
 sions of my imagination, but having my left 
 hand still useful and capable of moving the 
 pen to record the thoughts of my mind and 
 the recollections of my experience, and living 
 in my manor-house of Gloux given me by 
 the Most Christian King, have here resolved 
 to write in this little book the history of my 
 life in Florence from the year 1503. The 
 matter of some of these pages will consist of 
 records of events and of conversations, 
 written by me at or near the time when they 
 occurred, other pages will contain copies of 
 letters which passed between me and Ma- 
 donna Lisa Gioconda God rest her soul! 
 and the remainder will be made up by my 
 recollections, which after twelve years and 
 
 3
 
 4 PROEMIO 
 
 more are still fresh in my mind. In what I 
 shall write my sole endeavor will be to tell 
 the truth as far as is in my power.
 
 BOOK I SALAI
 
 THE WOMAN SOUL, 
 
 IN the early days of my young manhood, 
 when I was living in Florence with my mas- 
 ter Verrocchio working at both painting and 
 sculpture, and beginning experiments and 
 studies concerning artificiosa natura, 1 there 
 was one subject which I did not pursue, but 
 on the contrary avoided as much as possi- 
 ble. And that was the study of the minds 
 and souls of women, or rather of those who 
 were beautiful or seductive. It may be that 
 I feared their influence upon me should I be- 
 come too intimate with them, too absorbed in 
 them ; for very early I had become convinced 
 that he who does not control his sensuality 
 becomes unfitted for giving form to visions 
 that should last for eternity; and, moreover, 
 from my observations of the painters and 
 
 i There is no exact equivalent in English which will 
 translate this phrase so common in the writings of Da 
 Vinci. He means by it " Nature as artificer," working 
 under definite and unchangeable laws laid down by the 
 "Creator" or "Prime Mover." 
 
 7
 
 8 MONNA LISA 
 
 sculptors among whom I lived, I saw that 
 those who made themselves the companions 
 of loose women, nay even those who espoused 
 good women, though they sometimes acquired 
 great prosperity in the things of this world, 
 yet, because they did not fully possess them- 
 selves, failed to manifest in its plenitude 
 their inborn virtu. 1 For the true painter 
 should be a solitary man, especially when he 
 is intent upon his meditations. Since, if he is 
 alone he is all his own, and if he is accom- 
 panied by only one companion he will be just 
 half his own, and so much the less will he be 
 his own the more he multiplies his indiscre- 
 tion. 
 
 Therefore, being fully persuaded of this, if 
 at any time when I was a young man I per- 
 ceived that the thoughts of some beautiful or 
 seductive woman pursued me when absent 
 from her presence and came between me and 
 my meditations on my art or science, I with- 
 drew altogether from her company, lest she 
 
 i There is no word or phrase in English except of the 
 time of Chaucer that expresses what virtti meant to the 
 Italian of the Renaissance. It connotes force, capability, 
 talent, courage and the like, rather than mere moral recti- 
 tude. It is similar to the Latin virtus. Machiavelli could 
 speak appropriately of the virtit, of such a moral monster 
 as Cesare Borgia.
 
 SALAI 9 
 
 might hinder me in the work for which the 
 Creator had fashioned me namely, to make 
 of myself as it were a mirror that could trans- 
 mute itself into the forms and colors of what- 
 ever thing it might have for an object. For 
 that reason it would not be well to let any 
 foreign influence come between me and what 
 I should reflect in the truth of my art. 
 
 By this practice I so accustomed myself to 
 live for my art and my science, that finally I 
 could mingle and hold converse with women 
 and could study and paint their faces and 
 bodies, and no distracting thoughts would 
 follow me to prevent my meditation upon the 
 works of art which I planned or upon the laws 
 of nature which I was discovering by experi- 
 ment. Moreover, when I was an engineer in 
 the service of the Diodario of Syria, after my 
 first departure from Florence, I often heard 
 the Mahometans say that women had no souls, 
 and sometimes when I was among them I was 
 even inclined to agree with them so different 
 from the operations of the divine reason of 
 man were the workings of women 's minds. 
 But when I returned to my own land and saw 
 the people paying great honor and worship to 
 a woman because she was the Mother of God,
 
 10 MONNA LISA 
 
 when I saw how much less barbarous these 
 people were because they so honored her and 
 all women in her, when I recalled what great 
 things had been achieved by Christian women, 
 how many noble saints and martyrs had come 
 from among them to glorify God, how Bea- 
 trice Portinari had been the inspiration of our 
 divine Dante, how the sainted Catherine of 
 Sienna had been the only one able to bring 
 back the Most High Pontiff from the Babylon- 
 ish Captivity at Avignon, and when I remem- 
 bered also that women are the mothers of 
 men, I knew that they must be possessed of a 
 soul, however different it might be from the 
 wondrous soul of man. Just as the bodies of 
 women are like unto those of men in that 
 nearly all the members are similar, and yet 
 they differ marvellously in both perfections 
 and imperfections, so must it be with the 
 woman soul alike and yet unlike to that of 
 man. And I thought that if I were able to 
 discover in just what things that difference 
 consists, then I should of a truth know all of 
 the woman soul that can be known by any 
 male being. 
 
 So with this thought, when I first entered 
 the service of Ludovico il Moro at Milan, hav-
 
 SALAI 11 
 
 ing no longer any fear of sensual desire, I 
 mingled again in the society of women. I 
 had at that time much opportunity of convers- 
 ing with those of all kinds and degrees the 
 noble and well-instructed ladies of the court, 
 the light and brilliant women of the town, the 
 sedate and virtuous wives of the burghers, the 
 simple and often honest helpmates of the 
 laborers and peasants, the old and the young, 
 the ugly and the beautiful, the ordinary and 
 the exceptional. I drew and painted their 
 faces and figures and observed carefully their 
 words and actions. But though at first I 
 seemed to make some progress in the discov- 
 ery of what the woman soul might be, yet soon 
 was I baffled in every case by the cloud of de- 
 ceit and falsehood that each woman cast about 
 her, when she perceived that I wished to learn 
 what she really was in herself. 
 
 Now I know well that there is much of false- 
 hood in man also ; but it is certain that while 
 he may use falsehood to accomplish his pur- 
 poses, not only the base but also the good as 
 when holy friars deceive the stupid people in 
 order to lead them to God yet, with a few 
 exceptions, man, in his inmost heart, loves and 
 desires the truth for himself, even when he
 
 12 MONNA LISA 
 
 denies it to others. But woman, as I then 
 thought, seemed to love falsehood for itself, 
 to delight in it, and to clothe herself in it. 
 Moreover, with man, falsehood seemed like 
 the shadows of daytime, which, while conceal- 
 ing some things, render others more evident 
 by showing them in relief; but with women 
 falsehood seemed like the shadows of night, 
 distorting, obscuring, and hiding everything 
 only here and there pierced by small and 
 dim lights, and those in truth artificial and 
 misleading. It may be that woman like other 
 weak animals strives to protect herself from 
 man by seeking the shadows of falsehood and 
 guile I know not ; yet it is certain that I did 
 not find in those days any woman who, when 
 she discovered that some one was desirous of 
 knowing all that was in her soul, would not 
 immediately shroud herself in deceit and so 
 baffle all further knowledge. 
 
 Yet, in spite of this, I was able to discover a 
 few facts; namely, that woman, being weak, 
 loves power especially over those who are 
 stronger than she and often acquires great 
 influence over man by a subtle knowledge of 
 his weaknesses, particularly of those weak- 
 nesses which are due to his animal nature;
 
 SALAI 13 
 
 and also that because of her love of falsehood 
 woman has no sense of justice, which is truth 
 made manifest in thought, nor of friendship, 
 which is truth 'made manifest in action. But 
 of these and of other similar matters I shall 
 not write further because they are clearly and 
 wittily set forth in the book entitled 11 Man- 
 ganello, which I was much given to reading at 
 that time. 
 
 Nevertheless I remained certain that there 
 was something in woman behind these faults 
 and shortcomings, an elusive something * I 
 had not yet known, but the effects of which I 
 had seen in the ineffable smile that at times 
 glorifies the face of woman, and which I had 
 often endeavored to paint upon the features 
 of saints and madonnas. In that elusive 
 something I felt must be the cause that made 
 the woman soul a different thing from the 
 soul of man. And I was certain that if I 
 could know what it was I should love it, and 
 that it was because I had not been able to 
 obtain any sure knowledge of the woman soul 
 that I had completed a half-century of life 
 without having ever loved a woman. 
 
 i "Un non so che" in the original,
 
 n 
 
 THE FAVOBITE PUPIL 
 
 SUCH were my opinions of women, when, 
 in 1503, I once more enrolled myself in the 
 guild of the painters of Florence, and, after 
 four years of wandering, decided to make 
 that city my home for the remainder of my 
 life. Among the servants and pupils then 
 living with me were Giacomo, whom I had 
 cured of his thievish tricks and had made 
 a faithful servant, Galeazzo, Gian Antonio, 
 Tommaso, Julio Tedesco, and Andrea Salai. 
 Of all these I loved Salai the most. He had 
 come to me eight years before at Milan, his 
 father being a Hungarian soldier, his mother 
 a Neapolitan woman. At that time he was 
 but a child, yet full of bodily grace and 
 beauty, and with a heart overflowing with 
 affection toward me, his master. He loved 
 beautiful raiment, which was but fitting and 
 proper in his case, and it pleased me also to 
 attire him in the very best, albeit he was 
 
 14
 
 SALAI 15 
 
 most beautiful when unclothed. Yet he, 
 though he loved me much, would sometimes 
 pilfer from me a few soldi from the sums 
 received in change; but perforce I always 
 forgave him, for he was so beautiful in his 
 penitence that it was impossible to harden 
 my heart against him. And I must say that 
 on every occasion when I entrusted him with 
 large sums he was always most accurate and 
 faithful. 
 
 Now at this time he was in the full bloom 
 of his youth. I knew well the many tempta- 
 tions that beset him, for I could not prevent 
 light women from seeing that he was beauti- 
 ful. I also knew that frequently he yielded. 
 Yet in the matter of sensual love the young 
 merit more compassion than blame, while 
 the old merit more blame than compassion. 
 Therefore, while I refrained from being 
 harsh with him, and so driving him away 
 from me, yet I did all in my power to show 
 him that if he did not curb his sensuality he 
 might as well walk on all fours, and also 
 that the chief remedy for such fevers was 
 greater application to his work as a painter. 
 For indeed by this time he had learned to 
 paint excellently, though the chief fault in
 
 16 MONNA LISA 
 
 his work was that it was too much an imita- 
 tion of me, his master. 
 
 Again, in order also to draw him away 
 from light women, I would often speak to 
 him of the woman soul, and how all the love 
 of the body is but as the dark soil out of 
 which springs into the free air of heaven the 
 perfect flower, the love of the soul, the love 
 of celestial harmony and beauty. And I 
 showed him how I was endeavoring to ex- 
 press some part of that celestial beauty and 
 harmony in the faces of the Holy Virgin 
 and of her mother, the blessed St. Anne, on 
 the cartoon of which picture I was at this 
 time working. 
 
 In this talk of the woman soul, Salai grew 
 greatly interested, for his was truly a beauti- 
 ful, though alas! not a great soul. And 
 he too endeavored to see traces of this soul 
 on the faces of women, and also endeavored 
 to reproduce it with his brush. Moreover, as 
 he advanced in thought and feeling, he be- 
 came less subject to feminine temptation, 
 and more expert in his art, and more did he 
 draw my heart unto him, until the confidence 
 that existed between us was not like that be-
 
 SALAI 17 
 
 tween master and pupil, but rather that be- 
 tween a father and a dearly loved son. 
 
 One day he came running to me in great 
 excitement and exclaimed: 
 
 11 Master! Master! I have seen it! I 
 have seen it, and it is perfection." 
 
 "What is it that is perfection?" I asked. 
 
 "0 Master!" he replied, "it is the woman 
 soul. I have seen it in the face of a great 
 lady as she came out of the Church of Santa 
 Maria Novella. She smiled on me, and she 
 is the woman soul for whom you have been 
 seeking these many years." 
 
 Then I said laughing: "You have allowed 
 yourself to be carried away by your youth- 
 ful imagination, to which every beautiful 
 woman is a saint, an angel, a goddess, though 
 in truth she may be the most malignant of 
 devils." 
 
 "No, no, Master!" he cried. "I know 
 that I am not misled. I have seen many a 
 woman with as beautiful features, as radiant 
 color, as perfect a figure; but never have I 
 seen on any face the look, the smile, that I 
 saw on hers. Oh ! it far surpasses that won- 
 derful smile of your Saint Anne. I tell you
 
 18 MONNA LISA 
 
 it is the woman soul, and you you the 
 only one in the world who can paint it must 
 come and see." 
 
 "But, Drea, can Leonardo, the famous 
 painter, whose hair is already turning gray, 
 can he loiter about a church door like a 
 young fop to see a pretty woman come from 
 her devotions, and wait for a passing 
 smile?" 
 
 Then Salai became impatient, nay, almost 
 angry with me, and exclaimed: "You must 
 be growing old, Master, since you refuse the 
 opportunity of seeing what all your life you 
 have longed to see and it is so little trouble. 
 The church is not very far she goes there 
 to mass every Sunday often in the week to 
 pray I have found this out from a beggar 
 woman who sits by the door. To-morrow is 
 Sunday should not Leonardo sometimes 
 hear mass? You need not wait about for 
 her. I will find her and take you where 
 you can see her and not be observed. It is 
 but a little thing to do ; yet a great thing to 
 see." 
 
 But I replied sadly: "If I were of your 
 years, Drea, I should, like you, be wild with 
 anticipation, for I see your wits have been
 
 SALAI 19 
 
 completely overthrown because a great lady 
 has perchance smiled on you; but I have 
 seen too many women, too many great 
 ladies " 
 
 Here he interrupted me, pouring forth a 
 rhapsody upon the lady, and concluding 
 with, "Master, I ask but one thing. It needs 
 but one look. You will give it, and, if I am 
 wrong, never love your Drea any more, but 
 send me away as a liar and deceiver." 
 
 And so insistent was he that I was forced 
 to agree to attend mass with him the follow- 
 ing morning.
 
 in 
 
 IN THE CHUEOH 
 
 THE next morning I was aroused by Salai, 
 who assisted me to dress, attiring me in my 
 best tunic and cloak, and, as it were, led me 
 to the aforesaid church a little before the 
 time for mass. There he lingered at the 
 door, as the beggar woman told him that the 
 lady was not yet come, and I proceeded into 
 the church. 
 
 After looking for a time at the admirable 
 fresco near the entrance by Maso, the Flor- 
 entine, who brought back our painters to the 
 study of Nature, I walked down the nave. 
 There I admired the ingenious artifice of 
 Fra Sisto and Fra Eistori, who had known 
 so well how to make use of the laws of per- 
 spective to increase the apparent size of the 
 Church, and, coming to the chapel of Filip- 
 pino Strozzi, I examined very carefully the 
 frescoes of my friend, Filippino Lippi, 
 being particularly pleased by his having rep- 
 
 20
 
 SALAI 21 
 
 resented things to the best of his ability in 
 accordance with the truth of Nature. 
 Thence, passing by the high altar, where the 
 acolytes were beginning to light the candles, 
 I came to the steps that lead up to the Strozzi 
 chapel, whose walls are defaced by the futile 
 labor of the degenerate imitators of the 
 great master, Giotto. 
 
 At that place I stopped suddenly, for be- 
 fore me was a lady, attired in black, kneel- 
 ing near the door of the Sepolcreto, and 
 telling her beads. There was in her up- 
 turned face something that brought before 
 me a vision of Our Lady at the foot of the 
 cross. So absorbed in her devotions was 
 she, that she did not notice me as I stood 
 there gazing at her, half inclined to kneel 
 down, and at her side to worship the Su- 
 preme Author of our being. A moment 
 later I felt someone twitch my cloak, and 
 turning saw Salai, who had been searching 
 for me, and who, much excited, whispered: 
 
 * ' She has entered the church ! ' ' Then, see- 
 ing the kneeling woman, he added hastily, 
 "Hush ! there she is ! Was I not right, Mas- 
 ter?" 
 
 Just then the lady, either because she had
 
 22 MONNA LISA 
 
 finished telling her rosary, or because she 
 had been disturbed by Salai's voice, arose, 
 and seeing us gazing at her, went to join the 
 worshippers before the altar, giving us in 
 passing a frank and free glance, such as 
 noble ladies are wont to use when they see 
 the admiration they awaken. 
 
 I walked back to the door, intending to 
 go to my house ; but the face of the lady pre- 
 vented me from leaving the church. I lin- 
 gered near the entrance, angry with Salai 
 for having brought me thither, and angry 
 with myself for not being able to go out into 
 the bright sunlight, and, under the clear blue 
 of the sky, drive away that face which held 
 me there. Such a thing had not happened 
 to me since I had departed for Syria. It was 
 not possible that I, Leonardo, who had 
 counted fifty years, who had observed and 
 studied artificiosa natura and mankind so 
 much, should be so moved by the face of a 
 woman unless, perhaps, it might be some 
 manifestation of the woman soul that I had 
 seen there. 
 
 Salai, perceiving how greatly I was dis- 
 turbed in mind, wisely remained silent, gaz- 
 ing up the nave to where he could see the
 
 SALAI 23 
 
 dark clad figure kneeling among the wor- 
 shippers. The mass seemed very long and 
 the tedious intoning of the officiant well-nigh 
 intolerable. At last when, the service being 
 ended, the worshippers began to disperse, 
 Salai stationed himself by the door, and as 
 the lady came near, presented her with the 
 holy water. She smiled her thanks, giving 
 me also a passing glance as she went by 
 Salai after her. I, indeed, tried to detain 
 him, but he shook himself free, and followed 
 her into the sunlight. 
 
 For some time I remained in the dim and 
 deserted church, questioning myself as to 
 whether Salai were right or not, and if in 
 this lady's smile were really the woman soul, 
 and not a false will-o'-the-wisp, which bor- 
 rows the appearance of a friendly light to 
 lead wandering men to their destruction. 
 For, of a truth, in all my life I had never 
 seen anything like unto her smile.
 
 IV 
 
 A GREAT LADY 
 
 I LEFT the church and wandered through 
 the shady streets to the Batisterio. I tried 
 to gaze upon Ghiberti's gates, but the face 
 of the woman came between me and the ad- 
 mirable work of the master, neither could I 
 enjoy the perfection of Giotto's Campanile, 
 nor the grandeur of Brunelleschi's dome for 
 the same reason; and a like thing occurred 
 in the presence of the work of my old master 
 at Or San Michele. So, with the face and 
 the smile ever before me I passed beyond 
 the Palazzo dei Priori and the beautiful Log- 
 gia dei Signori and came to the Ponte 
 Vecchio, which I crossed and proceeded fur- 
 ther to where, hard by the great unfinished 
 house of Luca Pitti, was the dwelling of 
 Messer Niccolo Machiavelli. With him I 
 had become acquainted when I was serving 
 Duke Valentino as an engineer in Umbria and 
 the Eomagna, Messer Niccolo being at that 
 
 24
 
 SALAI 25 
 
 time an envoy from Florence at the court of 
 the duke. 
 
 By good fortune he was at home. He 
 greeted me cordially and took me into his 
 library, where he was working upon a book 
 that he told me was to be to the laws which 
 govern the actions of men in matters of war 
 and politics what my studies are to the laws 
 that rule artificiosa natura. He made me 
 break bread with him, and we discoursed 
 long upon questions of grave import, namely, 
 the best manner in which the mass of 
 thoughtless men, who have no care but the 
 acquisition of material riches and the pur- 
 suit of sensual pleasure, should be governed 
 by men of virtu, who know the real signifi- 
 cance of life and are not led astray by its 
 vain semblances and superstitions. 
 
 Messer Niccolo also questioned me much 
 about my own studies and discoveries in 
 anatomy, astronomy, mathematics, and me- 
 chanics, being especially interested in my de- 
 signs for new weapons for example, one 
 for great cannon, which could be loaded from 
 the breech and so be fired more rapidly, and 
 one for grouping many barrels of arquebuses 
 together, either parallel or spreading like a
 
 26 MONNA LISA 
 
 fan (said barrels to be fired in succession by 
 a ratchet wheel), besides many other designs 
 of a similar character. And in all his ques- 
 tions and observations and judgments he 
 filled me with admiration because of the ex- 
 ceeding greatness of his mind, for he, like 
 few of the present time, is able to think about 
 the abstract laws of Nature, as well as about 
 the practical results and effects which fol- 
 low from them. 
 
 And, as our discourse proceeded in this 
 fashion, the vision of the lady's face and of 
 her smile faded away from me, and about 
 sunset I returned to my house, the same 
 Leonardo that had entered the Church of 
 Santa Maria Novella in the morning. 
 
 There I found Salai, anxiously waiting 
 to tell me that he had discovered who the 
 lady was. He had followed her at a respect- 
 ful distance until he had seen her enter 
 her house in the Via dell' Amore, but a few 
 steps from the Piazza Vecchia, and by artful 
 inquiries among the shop keepers who lived 
 hard by, had learned that the house belonged 
 to Messer Francesco Giocondo, and that the 
 lady, who was about thirty years of uge, was 
 his third wife. Salai had also discovered
 
 SALAI 27 
 
 that her name was Lisa, and that she was 
 not a Florentine, though her family was a 
 branch of our own Gherardini, but she had 
 been born in Naples (her mother being a na- 
 tive of that place) which accounted for the 
 fact that her appearance differed so much 
 from that of the women of our city. More- 
 over, she had lost an only child, an infant 
 daughter, who was buried in the Sepolcreto 
 of Santa Maria Novella, and that was why 
 she went there so often to pray. 
 
 Then I recollected that Messer Francesco 
 was one of our buonomini, and that I had 
 met him not long before in the Hall of the 
 Grand Council, in connection with the dis- 
 cussion of the Gonfalonier's plan to have the 
 walls of the said hall adorned by great paint- 
 ings. I also recalled that when some opposi- 
 tion was made on account of the expense, 
 Messer Francesco had taken the part of the 
 Gonfalonier, and had spoken at some length, 
 showing not only a good judgment in prac- 
 tical matters, but manifesting also a con- 
 siderable knowledge and love of art. I 
 heard afterwards that he was highly es- 
 teemed by all the great merchants and bank- 
 ers and was also a generous patron of artists,
 
 28 MONNA LISA 
 
 having had painted at a large price an altar 
 piece by Puligo for the Giocondo chapel in 
 the church of the Santissima Nunziata. 
 
 This lady, then, she with the subtle smile, 
 was his wife, a patrician, one of the great 
 ladies of Florence, and I was glad that the 
 wise discourse of Messer Niccolo had driven 
 her face from my mind. For I had often ob- 
 served that there is nothing so likely to ex- 
 tinguish the soul as the daily life of the rich 
 and noble, with its flood of material things 
 and corporeal pleasures submerging the 
 mind and preventing one from ever thinking 
 of real worth. I had also often noticed in 
 the conversation of great ladies, even those 
 of great wit and well instructed, a certain 
 lack of consequence, a constant flitting from 
 one idea to another, like the butterfly which 
 flutters about from flower to flower, and not 
 like the bee which holds possession until jit^ 
 has extracted all the honey the flower .<&m- 
 " fains. It seemed to me that the very multi- 
 tude of beautiful and interesting things, with 
 which rich and noble women were ever sur- 
 rounded, in itself distracted them and kept 
 them sometimes from discovering that they
 
 SALAI 29 
 
 had any souls at all. Had this lady been a 
 woman of a simpler manner of life, I might 
 have been tempted to ask her to sit for me, 
 and while painting her to try to find out if 
 the woman soul were concealed behind that 
 subtle smile; but as it was, I laughed and 
 said to Salai: 
 
 "Dear Drea, if I am ever tempted to leave 
 the realms of art and science and engage in 
 the mighty matters of war and politics, I 
 shall certainly employ you as my chief envoy, 
 for you have found out more about this lady 
 in a few hours than I could in as many days. 
 But, as you know well, I am at present much 
 busied with various weighty matters, and 
 how can I allow a little woman, just because 
 she has a handsome figure, a fair face, and a 
 gracious smile, to come between me and what 
 I must needs perform!" 
 
 "But, Master, there is no woman like her," 
 exclaimed Salai, who was much excited. 
 "And one woman like her is worth all the 
 arts, all the sciences, all the practical works 
 in the world." 
 
 "Dear child, you think thus because you 
 are young, and the hot blood courses freely
 
 30 MONNA LISA 
 
 through your arteries and veins, 1 and, get- 
 ting into the orbs of your eyes, prevents you 
 from seeing clearly. But when your blood 
 flows more calmly as mine does, you will see 
 women as they really are, and will know that 
 there are many things in this world of far 
 more worth than they. Now listen to a little 
 story." 
 
 "I listen, Master," Salai replied with a 
 weary look of submission; but I, not heeding 
 this, went on as follows: 
 
 "A sick man, being at the point of death, 
 and hearing some one knocking at the door, 
 asked one of his servants who it was. And 
 the servant replied that it was one who 
 called herself 'Madonna Bona' [good 
 woman]. Then the sick man raising his 
 hands thanked God in a loud voice, and said 
 to the servant that he should let this lady 
 enter quickly, to the end that he might be 
 able to see one good woman [una donna 
 bona] before he died, because in all his life 
 he had never seen a single one. ' ' 
 
 Salai listened patiently until I had finished, 
 but then rising hastily, he cried : ' * Master, I 
 
 i This passage evidently shows that Da Vinci had some 
 notion of the circulation of the blood more than a century 
 before the celebrated William Harvey.
 
 SALAI 31 
 
 do not understand you. All your life you 
 have searched for the woman soul, and now 
 when she is under your hand you turn away 
 from her. With all your knowledge and wis- 
 dom you will never find her, will never know 
 her but I will." And so speaking he flung 
 himself out of the house.
 
 A YOUNG GALEOTTO 
 
 AFTER this Salai frequently absented him- 
 self and neglected not only his own painting 
 but also the services which were due to me. 
 Nevertheless he begged me for money to 
 have a new cloak made and also a pair of 
 shoes turned with rose color. The former 
 cost more than thirty-five lire and the latter 
 full two ducats; and yet the young rascal 
 robbed me of the few soldi change, but I did 
 not upbraid him, for the memory of benefits 
 is very fragile where there is ingratitude. 
 I also marked that he was much more serious 
 than was his wont, which made me think 
 that he was becoming involved in some love, 
 higher and truer than the frivolous caprices 
 which had hitherto distracted him; and, 
 knowing his youth, his beauty, and his na- 
 ture, this might perhaps be more of a bene- 
 fit to him than an evil, for the passion of the 
 
 soul drives away sensuality. Nor did I ques- 
 32
 
 SALAI 33 
 
 tion him about this matter, although his pre- 
 occupation and his absences increased as 
 time went on; since I knew well that if he 
 wished to confide in me he would tell me in 
 his own good time when he needed my advice 
 and assistance, and to ask him any questions 
 before this would be but to drive him into 
 falsehood. 
 
 Besides I was occupied with a multitude of 
 objects and therefore could not give as much 
 thought to my beloved pupil as I had for- 
 merly done. In the first place I was making 
 studies for my Ladftr-and f r a Madonna I 
 had promised Her Excellency, the Marchion- 
 ess of Mantua, and was painting a little pic- 
 ture for the Sieur de Eobertet, who had been 
 of great service to me after the downfall of 
 II Moro. Then I finished the cartoon of the 
 Virgin and St. Anne, and it was exhibited 
 in the convent of the Servites, all the artists 
 of Florence as well as great crowds of the 
 populace going to view it. And, mayhap on 
 account of this it was finally decided that I 
 should undertake the decoration of the Hall of 
 the Grand Council though the friends of 
 Messer Michel Angelo Buonarroti procured 
 that he should divide the work with me, per-
 
 34 MONNA LISA 
 
 haps to see which, of us two was the greater 
 artist. Be this as it may, my subject was the 
 Battle of Anghiari, and I must needs study all 
 the incidents of that noted conflict and medi- 
 tate deeply upon the manner in which I could 
 fittingly set forth the glory gained by Flor- 
 ence on that fortunate day. Moreover I was 
 frequently absent from the city, planning and 
 superintending the works of our besieging 
 army at Pisa, including a design for divert- 
 ing the course of the Arno from that city; 
 and, finally, at every spare moment I was 
 pursuing my studies in the theorems of that 
 science of sciences, geometry, and in the ap- 
 plication of these to mechanics and to the 
 sciences of artificiosa natura. 
 
 One day, when I was deep in the study of 
 a problem concerning the sections of cones, 
 Salai burst into the room; but seeing how 
 I was occupied, he stopped suddenly and 
 asked : 
 
 " Master, have you time to hear me? It is 
 of the greatest importance. ' ' 
 
 Observing how excited he was, I laid aside 
 my work, for his sudden entrance had broken 
 the connection of my thoughts, and I an- 
 swered that I was ready to hear anything.
 
 SALAI 35 
 
 Then the youth, with many excuses and 
 blushes and with frequent repetitions, told 
 me that, after the day that he had beheld 
 Madonna Lisa Gioconda, he had often waited 
 about to see her at the church, and had even 
 followed her to her home in the Via dell' 
 Amore, but so respectfully that he had never 
 been rebuked. And one day as she returned 
 home with a serving woman, he following as 
 was his wont, she had stopped at her door 
 and accosted him as he passed. "Who are 
 you ? ' ' she had asked. * * I am Andrea Salai, ' ' 
 he replied, "the servant and pupil of the 
 great master Leonardo Vincio." "And does 
 he send you to follow me?" 
 
 Here I, seized by a sudden fit of anger 
 cried out: "What do you mean, you rascal, 
 by involving me in your mad pranks ? ' ' 
 
 But he blushing said: "No, Master, I 
 have not involved you in any manner, for I 
 answered her that you knew nothing of my 
 following her, and indeed, that you would not 
 allow it if you did; but I had been impelled 
 by an irresistible desire to follow her, so 
 that perchance from time to time I might 
 have the privilege of beholding her beauty.'* 
 
 "And did she call out her lackeys," I
 
 36 MONNA LISA 
 
 asked, * ' and order them to cudgel you as you 
 so richly deserved?" 
 
 "By no means, Master," he replied. "On 
 the contrary, she smiled with that marvellous 
 smile, which is like the sun bursting through 
 the clouds, and asked me to enter the house, 
 for she would have some conversation with 
 me, and said if I would answer her questions 
 truly, I might, as a small reward gaze upon 
 her poor beauty as much as I pleased. So 
 she went in, and I followed her. ' ' 
 
 1 ' Indeed, youth is willing to dare all things 
 not because it is brave, but because it 
 does not know what danger is," I said laugh- 
 ing. "But what were the questions she 
 asked you, you young scapegrace?" 
 
 "They were mainly about you, Master 
 how long you expected to abide in Florence? 
 were you still dwelling with the Servites? 
 what was your manner of living? upon what 
 works were you now employed? and what 
 were your plans for the great picture in the 
 Hall of the Grand Council? And these ques- 
 tions I answered as well as I was able." 
 
 "But did she ask you nothing about your- 
 self, Drea?" 
 
 "Yes, somewhat about my parentage and
 
 SALAI 37 
 
 my prospects, but more about my relations 
 to you, and what I thought of you, of your 
 character, and of your works." 
 
 I laughed and said: "I hope you gave me 
 a good character, Drea. 'Tis said that serv- 
 ants know more about their masters than any- 
 one else." 
 
 Hereat the youth seemed a little offended 
 and said proudly : "I have lived long enough 
 with Leonardo Vincio for you to know what 
 I perforce must say." And then he went 
 on to tell that she had caused him to return 
 from time to time, to play the lute and sing 
 to her when she was sad, and once or twice 
 to sing at banquets that Messer Francesco 
 had given to his friends ; but at no time had 
 she allowed him to forget for an instant what 
 was due her from one of his station. "For, 
 Master," he concluded, with enthusiasm, 
 "she is the noblest, the purest, the most vir- 
 tuous, as well as the fairest lady in the world, 
 and of a very truth in her is the woman 
 soul!" 
 
 "Why have you told me all this, my son?" 
 I asked kindly, seeing how relieved he was 
 now that he had at last spoken. "You know 
 perfectly well that you can obtain nothing
 
 38 MONNA LISA 
 
 that you wish from her, and that not I, nor 
 anyone, except a sovereign prince, can aid 
 you. ' ' 
 
 "I want nothing from her but the privi- 
 lege of worshipping her, and of serving her 
 in any way that is in my power, and this she 
 has granted me. But, Master, listen. This 
 is the reason I have spoken to you : Madonna 
 Lisa has one desire, and that is that her 
 portrait be painted by the greatest master in 
 the world." 
 
 "But" I began. 
 
 "No, Master," he interrupted, "wait, and 
 hear me out. She has this desire, but she is 
 proud. She knows the mighty works you 
 are employed upon, and she knows that 
 princesses wait upon your convenience yet 
 she cannot bear to be refused openly. And 
 so she wishes me not to ask you if you 
 would paint her portrait but to discover 
 whether you would entertain such a re- 
 quest." 
 
 "You know, Drea, just as well as she, how 
 I am occupied at present, and more, that if I 
 did not have to make our simple living by my 
 painting, I should not take a brush again in 
 my hand, but should devote myself entirely to
 
 SALAI 39 
 
 mathematics and to the study of artificiosa 
 natura. And now with the scheme of the 
 great battle picture occupying all my medita- 
 tions in the realm of art, how can I step aside 
 to paint the features of a pretty woman ? ' ' 
 
 "But, Master," he urged more earnestly, 
 ' ' this would not be like an ordinary portrait ; 
 it would be, as it were, a part of your studies 
 of nature, of the nature of mankind. Do 
 you not remember how often you have told 
 me of the woman soul, and how you have 
 wished to know it, to study it, and to paint 
 its expression in the portrait of the woman 
 in whom it dwelt? Now I swear to you, 
 Master, by my faith in God and in His Holy 
 Church, by the Blessed Mother of God, and 
 by her son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus 
 Christ, that in this lady is veritably the 
 woman soul. She is not like other women 
 of her rank, she is not frivolous, she is not 
 vain, nor proud and condescending, but she 
 is as simple as a woman of the people and as 
 well instructed as the greatest duchess in all 
 Italy; the light of the stars shines in her 
 eyes, and the glory of heaven is in her 
 smile. ' ' 
 
 "She must indeed be something great,
 
 40 MONNA LISA 
 
 Drea," I said laughing, "for she is making 
 a poet, or rather a poetaster, out of you." 
 
 "Do not laugh, Master," he said impa- 
 tiently. "Sometimes you seem so wise, and 
 sometimes pardon my boldness if I say it 
 sometimes so foolish." 
 
 "Yes," I said a little bitterly, "most men 
 of the world consider me mad, and the rest a 
 necromancer. ' ' 
 
 "No, I do not mean that," he said with his 
 most winning smile. "I mean this: here is 
 an opportunity to make an experiment, to 
 judge the woman soul by actual experience 
 and you know how you love knowledge. 
 Why turn away from this opportunity of ac- 
 quiring the knowledge you have so desired 
 so many years ? You can, as you have often 
 done, make such a contract as would allow 
 you to drop the picture if you should not 
 wish to work on it longer, but then you would 
 have had the opportunity of discovering 
 what you have so longed for if it be there." 
 
 "But how should I know that she is what 
 I have longed for," I asked. "She may ap- 
 pear to you like a saint from heaven, and 
 yet be a veritable demon in her heart; for 
 woman has learned deceit from the serpent,
 
 SALAI 41 
 
 who tempted Eve with the fruit of the tree 
 of knowledge of good and evil, and Eve, for- 
 sooth, before she gave the apple to Adam, 
 bit into the side which was evil, I fear 
 woman " 
 
 "Are you afraid of the knowledge of 
 women!" he interrupted eagerly. "Has 
 fear of results ever withheld you from any 
 experiment in the search of knowledge? I 
 must say, Master, that I never dreamed you 
 could be afraid." 
 
 This taunt indeed overthrew my com- 
 posure, and without thinking I exclaimed: 
 "No one has ever charged me with fear. 
 Tell Madonna Lisa that Messer Francesco 
 may come to talk about the portrait." 
 
 And before I realized what I had said, 
 Salai hurried from the house.
 
 VI 
 
 THE CONTRACT 
 
 THAT night, when I retired to rest and be- 
 gan to meditate in the darkness upon my de- 
 signs, the face of Madonna Lisa indeed 
 appeared again before me with its subtle 
 smile; yet not with the same power as on 
 that first day, and I had but little trouble in 
 driving it away by fixing my imagination 
 upon the chief points of interest in my bat- 
 tle picture, namely the struggle for the 
 standard, in which men and horses are 
 mingled together in the bestial madness of 
 the combat. And so when I awoke the next 
 morning, calm and refreshed with sleep, 
 I was willing to grant Messer Francesco's 
 request even before he came, which indeed 
 was at an early hour. 
 
 I felt myself drawn to him soon after our 
 conversation began a straightforward and 
 honest but not brilliant man, a true Floren- 
 tine, a typical representative of those prac- 
 
 42
 
 SALAI 43 
 
 tical and commercial but intelligent and art 
 loving men who have made our city the center 
 of the civilization of the world. 
 
 He seemed very proud of the beauty of his 
 wife, and wished me to understand that I 
 should spare no pains to make her portrait 
 in point of execution fully equal to the best 
 works I had produced, as he desired to have 
 her beauty preserved for the admiration of 
 his posterity. 
 
 "You have the true idea," I said, "since 
 every mortal beauty passes but not that of 
 art." 
 
 "When do you think you can finish it?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "That I cannot say," I replied. "No true 
 work of beauty was ever accomplished in 
 haste. Think how many ages it took the 
 Arno to hollow out this lovely valley! In 
 truth, impatience is the mother 
 
 ru, mpaence s e moer o^ttp.av^ 
 and tholfe people who wish'tnings to be done 
 too rapidly do not desire perfection. It is 
 impossible for me to produce great works in 
 a hurry, as the good prior in Milan discov- 
 ered when I was painting the Cenacolo." 
 
 "I have heard of your reply to him," 
 laughed Messer Francesco.
 
 44 MONNA LISA 
 
 "You must know also," I continued, "with 
 how many other great works I am at present 
 occupied. Likewise, that it is necessary to 
 be in the state of mind fitted for the special 
 subject in order to create a great work of 
 art. All I can promise is that you shall have 
 it when it is finished to suit me it may be 
 two months, it may be two years." 
 
 Messer Francesco's brow darkened for a 
 moment; then with a frank smile he said: 
 "I understand, Master Leonardo, you mean 
 to give me a masterpiece, and that is what I 
 desire. I can see clearly that no man ever 
 produced a masterpiece who worked when 
 he was not willing, nay, even anxious. But 
 when shall my wife come?" 
 
 "That will depend upon her as well as 
 upon me," I answered. "I would not have 
 her sit for me when she might be weary or 
 in a sad mood. You want her at her best, 
 and I, who also admire her beauty, wish the 
 same. In a few days the keys of the Pope's 
 Chamber are to be given to me so that I may 
 have room enough to work on the cartoon of 
 my battle picture, and I have hired a house 
 hard by in the Via delle Belle Donne; but 
 I must prepare in it a suitable place for
 
 SALAI 45 
 
 painting portraits as well as rooms for my 
 experiments. But the house is not. far dis- 
 tant from yours, and Madonna Gioconda, 
 whenever she feels so inclined, may send to 
 inquire, and, if I am not occupied and am in 
 the proper mood, she may come, or I may 
 send to her. But this I must say before- 
 hand: I shall not paint every time she 
 comes. It is often best to look and meditate, 
 and not to put the brush upon the picture 
 until you know what you wish to do." 
 
 "That is wise," said Messer Francesco. 
 
 "As soon as I have everything arranged 
 in my new abode I shall let you know, and 
 Madonna Gioconda may come to settle upon 
 the pose." 
 
 "But what will be the price of the por- 
 trait?" asked Messer Francesco, remember- 
 ing that he was a man of business. 
 
 "That will depend upon what the picture 
 may become. When it is finished, we can 
 have it valued by some of your friends, and 
 you shall pay the price they decide upon. 
 Until that time you shall pay nothing." 
 
 This proposition pleased him, and, having 
 made out the contract to our mutual satis- 
 faction, we parted.
 
 vn 
 
 THE FIKST SITTINGS 
 
 THEREUPON I set about having prepared in 
 my new abode a place suitable for paint- 
 ing this portrait as well as others which I 
 foresaw I should have to undertake, and 
 also for the posing of the models for my 
 studies for other pictures, since much of the 
 beauty of the painter's work depends upon 
 the atmosphere which surrounds the subject 
 to be painted. For, if you place yourself 
 in the street at close of day or in cloudy 
 weather, you will note what grace and sweet- 
 ness will appear in the faces of the men and 
 the women who then pass by. Therefore, I 
 had fitted up a court, which was ten braccia 
 in breadth and twenty in length. The walls, 
 ten braccia high, were tinted black, and at 
 the top of the wall was a projection like a 
 cornice, with an arrangement that when the 
 sun shone in a curtain could be drawn across, 
 which would be unnecessary when it was 
 
 46
 
 SALAI 47 
 
 cloudy weather or towards evening. And 
 in this way I could secure a perfect atmos- 
 phere [aria]. 
 
 When all was prepared I sent word to 
 Messer Francesco, that I was ready, and 
 Madonna Lisa came accompanied by a friend, 
 a certain Madonna Elena, a gay and frivo- 
 lous young woman of much superficial pretti- 
 ness in feature and color; but in truth she 
 was like a cage full of chattering magpies. 
 I placed Madonna Lisa against the dark wall 
 in a comfortable chair so that she might not 
 be soon fatigued. On the broad arm of this 
 she could rest her elbow and also display to 
 the best advantage her perfect hands, which 
 she had happily in no way disfigured with 
 rings. And then, having ordered Salai to 
 stretch the curtains across the court, for the 
 sun was shining, I seated myself at the easel 
 and began to draw the gracious outline. 
 
 But the presence of Madonna Elena was 
 at the same time an assistance and a hin- 
 drance to good work on my part. For she 
 was always talking, leaving but little chance 
 for either Madonna Lisa or me to utter a 
 word; and though she frequently said amus- 
 ing things, which brought to the face of my
 
 48 MONNA LISA 
 
 sitter somewhat of the smile I wished to 
 draw, yet her constant and often meaning- 
 less chatter so disturbed me that I could not 
 think two connected thoughts. May God 
 have mercy upon her husband ! 
 
 Therefore, having made several attempts 
 and having accomplished nothing worthy, I 
 set aside my easel, refusing to let the mag- 
 pie even glance at it, which indeed greatly 
 offended her ; but for that I cared little ; and 
 I said: 
 
 "I can do nothing to-day, Madonna Lisa. 
 Something is not perfect in the surroundings, 
 in the atmosphere, and I find myself unable 
 to do as good work as the poorest of my 
 pupils. What it is I cannot explain ; but you 
 must come again soon, and I shall begin a 
 new drawing." 
 
 "I understand," said Madonna Lisa with 
 a glance at her friend, the magpie, who was 
 totally oblivious of anything but her own 
 perfections. "I understand, Master Leo- 
 nardo, and when I come again I shall see that 
 the atmosphere is what you require." 
 
 "How can you do that!" asked the magpie. 
 "Has one sitting to the great necromancer 
 made a sorceress of you?"
 
 SALAI 49 
 
 "That was not needed/' I remarked. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "It is my secret," smiled Madonna Lisa, 
 "and I certainly shall not tell it to you, for 
 you would have the whole town gossiping 
 about it before sundown." 
 
 This sharp pointed arrow, however, 
 glanced harmlessly off from the impervious 
 armor of Madonna Elena's self-content. 
 With a thankful glance I showed Madonna 
 Lisa that I knew what she meant. And so 
 they departed. 
 
 When Madonna Lisa returned on the fol- 
 lowing day, she was accompanied only by an 
 old slave, Maria, who had been her nurse, 
 and who, establishing herself in a com- 
 fortable chair, promptly fell asleep, and, by 
 the blessing of God, breathed quietly and did 
 not snore. The day was cloudy so that I did 
 not need the curtain and being in the proper 
 mood I worked rapidly and well. For the 
 night before in the darkness I had called up 
 in my imagination her face and figure as 
 clearly as if she had sat before me, and had 
 arranged and rearranged the pose until I 
 had everything to suit the idea I had formed 
 in my mind of what would be most fitting for
 
 50 MONNA LISA 
 
 the portrait, and when in fact I posed the 
 living woman I saw that I was right. So 
 absorbed in my work did I become that for 
 some time I did not speak a word; but, at 
 last, looking up at her face, I saw that it was 
 covered as with a cloud. 
 "Are you tired, Madonna Lisa?" I asked. 
 "No; only a little sad." 
 "Pardon me, Madonna, but why?" 
 For a little space she was silent, and then 
 said softly: "I will tell you, Master Leo- 
 nardo, for you will understand. Often when 
 I am alone, or there is silence about me, my 
 thoughts fly over to the Sepolcreto, and I " 
 Here she ceased, and I said softly: "I 
 know how you feel, Madonna. Where there 
 is the most feeling there is the greatest 
 martyrdom, there is the greatest martyr. 
 And I, who know how to suffer, know how 
 to feel with you." 
 
 She said nothing, but the grateful look in 
 her eyes showed me that I had not spoken 
 amiss. After a time I continued: "To talk 
 now of ordinary things would be wrong, and 
 I am no 'priest to give you the consolations 
 of Holy Church. Would you like music ? ' 7
 
 SALAI 51 
 
 "Oh, it would delight me if you would play 
 your lute, Master Leonardo, for I have often 
 heard of your wonderful music. But that 
 would keep you from your drawing." 
 
 "I have done enough with my crayon for 
 to-day. But I should like to look at you for 
 a time, so that, as is my custom, I may medi- 
 tate upon your picture before I fall asleep. 
 And that can be done while I play." 
 
 So I brought my silver lute, and tuning 
 it I first played a soft and soothing melody. 
 Then, as I saw her face grow more cheer- 
 ful, I gradually began a livelier strain, in 
 which I continued until I saw her smile once 
 more return, and it did not pass away. As 
 I ceased for a moment, to tune my lute to 
 another mode, she asked: 
 
 "Will you sing for me, Master Leonardo? 
 Your music is beautiful beyond words, but I 
 have heard that you make perfect songs, and 
 I fain would hear one. ' ' 
 
 "Ten years ago, Madonna, I would have 
 sung for you gladly, for, as they have prob- 
 ably told you, I once possessed a voice that 
 was not disagreeable. But now I have 
 lived more than fifty years. Still, would it
 
 52 MONNA LISA 
 
 please you if I should call Salai to sing for 
 you? He has a voice as beautiful as his face, 
 and he plays the lute excellently." 
 
 "I know that, for I have heard him often 
 both play and sing. He is a dear boy, and I 
 have a great affection for him. But I wish 
 to hear your own songs." 
 
 "He knows them well, for I have taught 
 them to him, and with his fresh, young voice 
 they sound very sweet " 
 
 "Then you will not sing to please me?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "That is not so, Madonna. I do not say 
 I will not. I only must say I can not. Shall 
 I call Salai?" 
 
 "That will not be just what I want," she 
 replied after a pause. "And I am sure your 
 judgment of your voice is wrong, for though 
 you may have seen fifty summers, yet you 
 seem to me far younger than many who have 
 been born long after you indeed far 
 younger than my husband, who is but forty. ' ' 
 
 "What you say may be true as regards the 
 spirit," I said, "which when it is occupied 
 with great things, with joyous creating, re- 
 mains ever young, like unto Nature, who re- 
 news herself with every Spring, or like the
 
 SALAI 53 
 
 sun, which stands in the center of the uni- 
 verse, and never failing gives forth to the 
 earth and the stars youthful heat and vigor. 
 But, alas! with the body it is as the leaves 
 of the trees which wither and fall away, and 
 though the soul may renew itself in the 
 realms above, the body disintegrates, and " 
 
 "Then you will not sing,'* she interrupted 
 with a strange look in her eyes. 
 
 "You asked for music, Madonna," I an- 
 swered. "When my voice began to fail I 
 ceased to sing, and when my hand begins 
 to lose its cunning I shall cease to paint. 
 Shall I call Salai?" 
 
 "Then I cannot change your decision?" 
 
 "You may reshape an unbaked vase; but 
 a baked one no." 
 
 "You are very self-willed, Master Leo- 
 nardo." 
 
 "I only say what is true." 
 
 "You may call Salai," she said with a 
 petulant look, "for I would hear your songs 
 even though from the lips of another." 
 
 But after the youth had come in, blushing 
 with delight at being able to do something 
 to please Madonna Lisa, and after he had 
 sung several of my songs, the petulant look
 
 54 MONNA LISA 
 
 left her face, as she gazed upon the beauty 
 of the youth and drank in the beauty of his 
 voice. The subtle smile returned, softly as 
 the dawn, and I sat there motionless while 
 her perfection sank into my soul. The even- 
 ing drew on, and her face became even more 
 gracious as the shadows deepened. At last 
 she rose with a start and cried : 
 
 "I have forgotten myself. I should have 
 been at home long before this. It is almost 
 dark." And she roused her nurse hastily. 
 
 "Do not fear, Madonna," I said. "Your 
 house is but a short distance away, and 
 Salai shall accompany you with a torch." 
 
 As the youth went to fetch the light, she 
 came to me, and said softly: "Master Leo- 
 nardo, you have done much for me to-day 
 more than you know of. I have learned 
 what I did not know before. ' ' 
 
 "I am glad, Madonna," I said. But I did 
 not ask her the meaning of what she had 
 said, though I suspected what might be its 
 import. For I well knew that no question- 
 ing would bring the truth from her were she 
 not ready to tell me of her own accord. 
 She waited a moment as if expecting me to 
 question her, and then, holding out her hand,
 
 SALAI 55 
 
 said in a voice that trembled a little: "You 
 are a man, Master Leonardo," and then de- 
 parted, with Salai bearing the torch before 
 her, and the old slave following behind.
 
 BOOK II LEONAEDO
 
 THE FLIGHT OF BIEDS 
 
 I WAS in the Market, buying caged birds 
 and setting them free, when I heard close by 
 me the voice of Madonna Lisa saying : 
 
 "Master Leonardo, this seems a strange 
 pastime for a great man like you. What is 
 it that so interests you?" 
 
 "There are two things, Madonna," I re- 
 plied. ' ' In the first place I am studying the 
 birds and their manner of flying, and, 
 secondly, I love to free these winged crea- 
 tures that have within them the soul of free- 
 dom. It gives me great joy to see them 
 spread their light wings and soar into the 
 free air." And I opened the cage of an- 
 other bird, and bade Madonna Lisa notice 
 how timorous the poor little thing was at 
 first, scarcely believing that his prison was 
 unbarred; how he stepped out carefully, 
 looking about as if for some new foe; then 
 
 59
 
 60 MONNA LISA 
 
 how he opened and closed his wings, flutter- 
 ing his feathers, then ran a little distance 
 and finally swept up into the free air. ' * Did 
 you note the motion of his wings as he lifted 
 himself from the ground?" I asked. "Is it 
 not beautiful?" 
 
 "In truth it is beautiful and marvellous. 
 But do you think, Master Leonardo, that you 
 can ever imitate it?" 
 
 "Why not? If the birds, who have not 
 reason, can travel through the air, why can- 
 not man, who has reason, discover the laws 
 of nature that the ignorant birds use in their 
 flight?" 
 
 "Yet how could he use them, being so much 
 heavier than the air ? " 
 
 "Is not the bird also heavier?" I replied, 
 "and yet it flies through the air. The bird's 
 body is only an instrument, operating by 
 mathematical laws, and it is in the power of 
 man to make this instrument with all its mo- 
 tions though not with so much power and 
 control, especially in the power of balancing, 
 since the bird's mind is one with its instru- 
 ment, and so it can act more certainly and 
 quickly than the mind of man which would 
 be outside its instrument of flight. There-
 
 LEONARDO 61 
 
 fore, it is necessary for the mind of man to 
 learn to imitate the mind of the bird." 
 
 "Have you done this?" 
 
 "Not yet. And I am therefore still study- 
 ing how the birds move, not only in rising 
 from the ground, but in meeting the differ- 
 ent currents in the air, just as the skilful 
 mariner meets the varying currents in the 
 water. So you see it is also necessary to 
 study the motions of the air." 
 
 "How can you do this?" 
 
 "By watching the birds, the movements 
 of banners and of kites, and then I have con- 
 structed some small models of birds, the 
 wings being worked by a coiled spring, which 
 fly very well in a room or in still air; but 
 when they meet an adverse wind they fall to 
 the ground." 
 
 "Why, Master Leonardo?" 
 
 "Because they have not the mind of the 
 bird to balance themselves, or to accommo- 
 date themselves to new conditions. Could I 
 find a force, powerful enough to lift a man 
 from the ground, I should soon learn how to 
 meet the varying currents of the air. ' ' 
 
 "And your little models of birds really 
 fly? I can hardly believe it."
 
 62 MONNA LISA 
 
 "If you will come to my house, Madonna, 
 I will show you. ' ' 
 
 So we set forth on our way, accompanied 
 by Maria, the slave. 
 
 . . . The last bird I so arranged that 
 it flew in a circle and alighted in the lap of 
 Madonna Lisa. 
 
 "This is truly wonderful," she said, "and 
 I doubt not that you will soon make your 
 birds large enough to carry a man. But 
 what led you to attempt this I ' ' 
 
 "It seems to be my destiny." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "In the first recollections of my infancy I 
 recall that being in my cradle a falcon came 
 to me and opened my mouth with his tail 
 and struck me with his tail many times be- 
 tween my lips." 
 
 "That is strange." 
 
 "I am not superstitious, Madonna, but 
 from my earliest years I have loved the birds 
 and have spent hours and hours in watch- 
 ing them and in studying their movements. 
 And think of the possibilities of human lib- 
 erty when man can fly through the air like 
 the free birds of heaven ! ' '
 
 LEONARDO 63 
 
 "How you must love liberty, Master Leo- 
 nardo ! ' ' 
 
 ''The love of liberty is the greatest thing 
 in man.'* 
 
 "But is not the power of ruling man still 
 greater? For my part I can think of noth- 
 ing more desirable than the power to sway 
 the destinies of men and to make them sub- 
 servient to my will. What earthly greatness 
 can exceed that of a ruler of men ! ' ' 
 
 "The rulers of men are not such because 
 of their own greatness (for no one can have 
 greater dominion than that over himself), 
 but because of the littleness of the men they 
 rule. It is not the tyrant who makes the 
 slaves, but the slaves that make the tyrant; 
 and the tyrant is more of a slave than the 
 men he forces to serve him." 
 
 "You speak in riddles." 
 
 "I know well that tyrants, least of all men, 
 order their lives as they desire; for they 
 must always be plotting and planning and 
 doing many things they do not wish in order 
 to keep their place and all the time they 
 are like prisoners under sentence of death, 
 never knowing when the axe will fall. But a 
 man who has dominion over himself, and
 
 64 MONNA LISA 
 
 who loves liberty so much that he will not 
 have others serve him against their will, can 
 never be made a slave. For there is no 
 power that can destroy the freedom of the 
 soul." 
 
 ''What you say sounds very grand, 
 Master Leonardo. But even you, with all 
 your love of liberty, have served tyrants. 
 Have you forgotten Ludovico il Moro, or 
 Cesare Borgia?" 
 
 "By no means, for they were very useful 
 to me. I served them, even as I serve the 
 Republic of Florence to-day, because at the 
 time they alone could give me the means of 
 carrying out the works I am able to do. 
 They are men no better than I, no better than 
 any Florentine citizen, but to them slavish 
 minded people had given great power and 
 wealth, and why should I not use that power 
 and wealth to make manifest what I have 
 created in my mind. I must use the instru- 
 ments that come to my hand, but I need not 
 cringe and truckle like a slave unless I have 
 the soul of a slave." 
 
 "I should like to see the great Leonardo 
 ruled by some man or some woman," she 
 said laughing.
 
 LEONABDO 65 
 
 "If I were so ruled I should not be the 
 great Leonardo, as you call me, or even 
 the Leonardo that you know ; but a very piti- 
 ful, rascally slave." 
 
 "How proud you are!" she cried, still 
 laughing. "Do you not know that pride is 
 one of the deadly sins?" 
 
 "Certainly. And also one of the saving 
 virtues."
 
 II 
 
 THE ZINGAEA 
 
 ONE day, while Madonna Lisa was sitting 
 for her portrait, a wandering Zingara gained 
 admittance to the studio, saying she had 
 been sent by Madonna Elena. She was a 
 withered old woman who nevertheless bore 
 herself with a certain native dignity; and 
 her face, a grotesque tangle of wrinkles, was 
 ennobled by a finely arched nose, and illu- 
 mined by keenly piercing eyes, the inten- 
 sity of whose expression was in truth some- 
 what disquieting. When I first looked at her 
 I wished to make a careful study of her head. 
 Yet when she said she had been sent to tell 
 Madonna Lisa's fortune I was for putting 
 her out of the house. But Madonna Lisa in- 
 terfered. 
 
 "Let her stay, Master Leonardo," she 
 said. " Madonna Elena has told me that 
 this Zingara revealed unto her many remark- 
 able things concerning her life ; and I too am 
 
 66
 
 LEONAEDO 67 
 
 curious to know something of what the future 
 may have in store for me." 
 
 "Then, Madonna, I shall withdraw until 
 your curiosity is satisfied." 
 
 "It will not be long." 
 
 But as I was laying aside my colors and 
 brushes, a sudden change came over her ex- 
 pression, and with an eagerness that with 
 her was unusual, she exclaimed: 
 
 "No, do not go. Let us look into the fu- 
 ture together. I am more curious to hear 
 what she may say about you than about my- 
 self. You will not refuse to indulge this lit- 
 tle caprice of mine, will you, Master Leo- 
 nardo?" 
 
 So I, desirous of keeping her in good 
 humor, consented; and, also at her wish, 
 agreed that the foolish performance should 
 begin with me. The Zingara then, taking 
 my hand, became apparently absorbed in 
 studying the lines that mark the palm, mut- 
 tering to herself, and from time to time look- 
 ing up into my face with her keen eyes. As 
 for me, I was watching Madonna Lisa in- 
 tently to see how she would take this foolish- 
 ness, and, truly, it seemed to interest her 
 exceedingly. At last the Zingara spoke in
 
 68 MONNA LISA 
 
 an earnest tone, and, indeed, told many true 
 things concerning my past life and my char- 
 acter as a man, an artist, and a searcher 
 after truth, which it is not needful to record 
 here, and which she may have learned from 
 hearsay. But in conclusion she said: 
 
 "You have passed the meridian of life, but 
 you are full of vigor, for your line of life 
 is strong. You will live to be a gray-beard, 
 and you will die full of honors far from here 
 in a foreign land. You have never yet loved, 
 but you will love a beautiful woman with 
 your whole being, body, soul, and spirit ; and 
 in your love you will discover that for which 
 you have been seeking all your life." 
 
 She ceased, and I said laughingly: "Now 
 it is your turn, Madonna Lisa, to sound the 
 turbid depths of the future. " 
 
 "I have changed my mind I fear " she 
 began hesitatingly. Then suddenly noting 
 my smile, she turned to the Zingara and 
 said: "No, I am not afraid. Tell me what 
 the future has in store for me." 
 
 After the same mummeries, during which 
 Madonna Lisa kept her eyes fixed on me, the 
 Zingara said: 
 
 "Madonna, you have heretofore led a rich
 
 LEONARDO 69 
 
 and happy life though, indeed, it has been 
 clouded by one great sorrow. You are proud 
 of your beauty and of your intellect, for 
 through them you have always dominated 
 men. But you, who are created for love, 
 have never loved " 
 
 "I love my husband," interrupted Ma- 
 donna Lisa. 
 
 "Yes, yes," replied the old woman nod- 
 ding her head knowingly. "Yes, you do love 
 him with all the love he can understand, with 
 all the love he desires. But that is not the 
 highest love, the love of the soul. That love 
 you have not known because of fear. Your 
 line of life is short. Still, before you pass 
 away, you will know that highest love, and 
 it will be the crown of your existence, for I 
 seem to see that you will die in giving birth 
 to your soul. ' ' 
 
 "When she ceased Madonna Lisa said no 
 word, and her beautiful face was clouded, 
 mayhap because of the doleful prophecy of 
 a short life. So, to restore her spirits, after 
 I had paid and dismissed the Zingara, I said 
 in a light and mocking tone : 
 
 "Now that nonsense is over we can return 
 to our work."
 
 70 MONNA LISA 
 
 "Why do you call it nonsense, Master 
 Leonardo? Did she not say many true 
 things about your past life and your char- 
 acter when she had looked at the lines of 
 your palm?" 
 
 "And did you not note that she looked in 
 my face at the same time?" I answered. 
 "It is true that the lines of the features 
 show in part the natures of men, their vices, 
 and their temperaments. One who has had 
 much experience can often speak truly of the 
 past lives of those whose faces he has 
 studied, and, perhaps, this may also be true 
 of the hand and of the other parts of the 
 body. For the soul has made the body to be 
 its instrument, or its house if you will, and 
 where, for example, the house is unkempt 
 and disorderly, you can easily divine the 
 character of its tenant. But as for the lines 
 of the palm being signs of the future, 
 think of this, Madonna, you will find great 
 armies slain by the sword in the same hour, 
 and the lines in the palm are dissimilar in 
 every one of the soldiers likewise in a ship- 
 wreck. And this same argument may be ap- 
 plied to those tricksters who turn the beauti- 
 ful and mathematical science of astronomy
 
 LEONARDO 71 
 
 to the making of horoscopes and other fool- 
 ishness. Therefore I beg you not to put 
 your trust in anything that you cannot make 
 the subject of experiment, and not alone of 
 one experiment, but of several, so that you 
 may see that the same results follow in every 
 case where the conditions are the same. 
 For wisdom is the daughter of experience, 
 and" 
 
 "Yet everyone says that you yourself are 
 one of the greatest necromancers," she in- 
 terrupted. "Is it possible that you are 
 jealous of other practitioners of the black 
 art?" 
 
 "Madonna," I replied, "they speak 
 falsely who say that I know anything of what 
 is called the black art. I have studied noth- 
 ing but the laws of artificiosa natura, which 
 are open to everyone who has the patience 
 to make experiment, and to me all necro- 
 mancers are liars and cheats, deluders of the 
 foolish multitude." 
 
 "Then you are not a necromancer?" she 
 said with a disappointed look. 
 
 "No; only a student of nature and its 
 laws ; but because I have learned things that 
 other men do not understand, and because
 
 72 MONNA LISA 
 
 I busy myself with things they never 
 dreamed of, they call me a necromancer, and 
 fear me, as men fear everything they do not 
 know, for it is only the unusual that offends 
 and terrifies." 
 
 "And you have never even examined into 
 the mysteries of the black art ? ' ' 
 
 "Why should I, Madonna? for it is cer- 
 tain that if this necromancy were really true, 
 as people of low minds believe, nothing 
 which is above the earth would be of so 
 much service or damage to mankind. Be- 
 cause, if by means of this art, a man could 
 turn light into darkness and disturb the 
 serenity of the air by sudden gusts and fierce 
 storms with frightful thunders and lightning 
 running beneath the shadows, what a war 
 he could wage by destroying lofty edifices, 
 uprooting harvests, scattering armies, and 
 sinking armadas? It is certain that he who 
 could command such destructive powers 
 would be the lord of all peoples* and no 
 human genius would be able to resist his 
 destructive forces. " Here I noticed that 
 Madonna Lisa was smiling and continued as 
 follows: "But why should I enlighten you 
 still further, since what things could a man
 
 LEONARDO 73 
 
 not accomplish with such powers ! And why 
 should such a master remain among men, 
 since he should have no care for any deity; 
 but to satisfy his infinite appetite he could 
 ruin God and all His universe!" 
 
 "And yet," said she merrily, "these mighty 
 men are willing, nay, anxious to sell their 
 marvellous powers for a few florins to any- 
 one who is foolish enough to believe them. 
 You need say no more to convince me, and 
 right glad am I that you at least are not a 
 necromancer, for with your colossal pride 
 and love of unlimited liberty, you would not 
 allow a single person besides yourself to 
 exist in the universe, lest mayhap such a 
 one might abase your pride or limit your 
 liberty." 
 
 "No, no, I should be too lonely. I should 
 need someone perhaps a beautiful woman, 
 as the Zingara said. For what would be the 
 use of pride and power were there no one 
 to witness my greatness!" 
 
 "That is true; for is it not written, 'it is 
 not good for man to be alone'? But I 
 thought you were different from other men, 
 Master Leonardo." 
 
 I made no reply, but, seeing how beauti-
 
 74 MONNA LISA 
 
 ful her face was with that mocking yet 
 tender smile, used my brush most dili- 
 gently. . . .
 
 Ill 
 
 IN THE STUDIO 
 
 . . . "!T is in our freedom that we are 
 most like our Creator," said I. 
 
 ''How you love freedom, Master Leo- 
 nardo! I believe you would refuse all hap- 
 piness or love if one tried to force it on you. 
 And you would refuse all knowledge you 
 had not gained yourself." 
 
 "There you are wrong, Madonna. I do 
 learn from others; but only by testing their 
 thoughts as I would my own. I would take 
 nothing on authority from anyone on earth 
 or in heaven." 
 
 "Now you are saying dangerous words, 
 and I must not listen ; I have been brought up 
 to believe the doctrines of the Holy Church 
 as they have been taught me. And what you 
 have said, though it seems so true, may be 
 the tempting of the Devil, for it overthrows 
 everything I have hitherto believed. You 
 
 75
 
 76 MONNA LISA 
 
 know Satan tempted our Mother Eve with 
 the knowledge of good and evil." 
 
 "And God who created all things created 
 the serpent, too, for his own good purposes. 
 Since only through knowledge is love pos- 
 sible" * 
 
 "Master Leonardo!" 
 
 "Love is the child of knowledge, for you 
 cannot love anything you do not know, and 
 the greater your knowledge the greater your 
 love. Also, you can have no full knowledge 
 without knowing both the good and the evil, 
 as you can see nothing without both shadow 
 and light, and " 
 
 "Do you intend to paint me to-day? If 
 you do not I had better return home." 
 
 Then, knowing well that it is of no avail 
 to talk to an unwilling listener, and reflect- 
 ing how little honor it is to convince a 
 woman, I had her seat herself in the accus- 
 tomed place, and called Salai and Tommaso 
 to make music in order to drive away the 
 cloud that had settled on her face. But this 
 time, though the young men played and sang 
 surpassing well, they could not bring back 
 her smile. Yet the cloud passed away, and 
 in its stead appeared a wondrous and mys-
 
 LEONARDO 77 
 
 terious expression that seemed for the 
 moment more beautiful than the smile I was 
 trying to reproduce. It was like the haze 
 that sometimes at dawn hides the approach 
 of the sun. Was it the birth of her soul ? I 
 laid down my brushes and fell to considering 
 her face. 
 
 "When she perceived that I was no longer 
 painting, she asked: 
 
 "Are you tired of working, Master Leo- 
 nardo 1 ' ' 
 
 ' ' No, Madonna, I am working with greater 
 intensity than ever just now." 
 
 She lifted her eyebrows. 
 
 "I am working with my mind which di- 
 rects my hands." 
 
 "Thank you for your music," she said to 
 the youths; "you may cease now." 
 
 "When they had departed, she rose, and 
 standing before me asked : 
 
 "Master Leonardo, what is going on in 
 your head? I cannot make it out. " 
 
 "Nor can I always." 
 
 "You are a mystery. Sometimes you ele- 
 vate me, and sometimes you cast me down. 
 Then I do not like you." 
 
 I smiled but said nothing. Why should
 
 78 MONNA LISA 
 
 I? She lives in a different world from mine, 
 I thought. She is young and longs for life 
 and pleasure. I wish to meditate. She 
 loves the fullness of life in her beautiful, 
 young, and healthy body, and new thoughts, 
 new truths disturb her, since the soul stands 
 outside the body when it meditates. At her 
 age was I not like unto her? Alas ! each one 
 stands in the center of his own universe, 
 even as each one stands in the center of the 
 earth's surface. Yet this similitude does 
 not hold perfectly, for with one step you can 
 place yourself in another hemisphere of the 
 earth. But can you step into the universe 
 of another? 
 
 . . . "When the proud giant fell be- 
 cause of the bloody and miry state of the 
 ground it was as though a mountain had 
 fallen, so that the whole country shook as 
 with an earthquake, and terror fell on Pluto 
 in Hell. From the violence of the shock the 
 giant lay stunned on the level ground. Sud- 
 denly the people, seeing him lying as one 
 felled by a thunderbolt, turned back like ants 
 running over the body of a fallen oak. And
 
 LEONARDO 79 
 
 these, rushing over his enormous limbs, cut 
 them with innumerable wounds. But by this 
 the giant being roused, perceiving himself 
 almost covered by the multitude, and sud- 
 denly feeling the smarting of the stabs, 
 sent forth a roar which sounded like a ter- 
 rific clap of thunder, and, placing his hands 
 on the ground, he raised his terrible face, 
 and, having lifted one hand to his head, he 
 found it full of men and rabble sticking to 
 it like the minute creatures which not in- 
 frequently are found there. Wherefore with 
 a shake of his head he sent the men flying 
 through the air, just like hail when driven 
 by the fury of the winds. And many of 
 these who were not killed by the fall he slew, 
 stamping on them with his feet; but others, 
 clinging to his hair and striving to hide in it, 
 seemed like sailors in a storm, who climb up 
 the ropes in order to lessen the force of the 
 wind by taking in sail. And " 
 
 "But what do you mean by this story?" 
 she asked, interrupting me in the full fervor 
 of my narrative. 
 
 "It is a part of a satirical novella I am 
 thinking of writing to show the littleness and 
 meanness of men."
 
 80 MONNA LISA 
 
 "Do not do it, my friend. You can make 
 such beautiful pictures and such, exquisite 
 songs. It is worse than those hideous faces 
 you have drawn, in order, as you say, to dis- 
 cover the law of beauty. But this is to no 
 such purpose, since it is all imaginary, be- 
 sides being disgusting. You may make ugly 
 studies, but you never paint hideous pic- 
 tures." 
 
 ' <I did once." 
 
 "I remember that terrible rotella. 1 I saw 
 it once, and it haunted me for days. But 
 you have never done such a thing since. 
 And why should you, the great master, who 
 are so far above other men, trouble your- 
 self with their littleness and meanness? It 
 is not worthy of you." 
 
 "But suppose I were not so far above 
 other men as you imagine " 
 
 "Then you should be." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because you can be." 
 
 "I am not so sure of that, Madonna." 
 
 Then looking me straight in the eyes she 
 said: 
 
 i Monna Lisa evidently refers to the "shield" which 
 the youthful Leonardo painted for a peasant, and which 
 his father carefully preserved.
 
 LEONARDO 81 
 
 "Tell me, Master Leonardo; do you think 
 that story is worthy of you?" 
 
 "I did." 
 
 "Do you think so now?" 
 
 "I do not know." 
 
 "Then meditate upon it as you do upon 
 your other works, and after a time I shall 
 ask you again about it. But do not tell me 
 any more of it I will not listen, for I 
 hate it. Tell me another story one with a 
 meaning like the other tales you have told 
 me." 
 
 "I know a story about a butterfly." 
 
 "That is better." 
 
 "The vain and wandering butterfly, not 
 content with being able to fly at its ease 
 through the air and beguiled by the tempt- 
 ing flame of the candle, decided to fly into 
 it. But its joyous impulse ended quickly in 
 grievous misfortune, for its delicate wings 
 were burnt in the flame; so that the hapless 
 butterfly, having dropped all scorched at the 
 foot of the candlestick, after much lamenta- 
 tion and repentance, raising its face, ex- 
 claimed: *0 false light! how many like me 
 must thou have miserably deceived in the 
 past ! And as for me, if indeed it was neces-
 
 82 MONNA LISA 
 
 sary to see light so near, ought I not to have 
 known the sun from the false light of filthy 
 tallow !>" 
 
 "And what is the moral of your fable?" 
 "Can you not tell it yourself, Madonna?" 
 "I see two meanings to your tale. And 
 one pleases me, while the other displeases 
 me." 
 
 "What are they, Madonna?" 
 "As you would not tell, neither shall I." 
 I thought I understood what meanings she 
 had in mind, being especially certain of that 
 which displeased her, and so I did not urge 
 the matter, though I saw that she expected 
 to be pressed to tell. Then, after waiting 
 for a space, when she perceived that I would 
 not ask her again, she said : 
 
 "That story was better than the first 
 but, just as a favor, tell me another one 
 which can have but one meaning, and that 
 one which shall please me." 
 "I will try, Madonna." And so I began: 
 "The mirror gloried greatly while it was 
 holding in itself the Queen, and when the 
 Queen had departed the mirror remained in 
 the ."
 
 LEONARDO 83 
 
 . . . "Have you no religion, Master 
 Leonardo f" 
 
 "Yes, Madonna," I replied with much 
 earnestness. "I have a religion, and it is 
 very real to me; hut it is not the religion 
 that the pharasaical friars teach the foolish 
 multitude, whatever may be the belief they 
 may hold in their own hearts. And per- 
 haps it would not be pleasing to you." 
 
 "Above all things I wish to hear what you 
 believe. ' ' 
 
 "Then, Madonna, I believe in one God, 
 infinite and eternal, the Prime Mover and 
 Creator of all things, good and evil; 
 for if any other power created evil in 
 opposition to God, it would be another 
 god, and the Prune Mover would not be 
 infinite or eternal. And I love God, 
 not only because it is my natural duty, but 
 because He gave me my life and prolongs it 
 to the present day, for I could not live with- 
 out his will. And I worship the wonderful 
 justice of the Prime Mover, because He does 
 not wish that any force or potency should 
 fail in the order and quality of its natural 
 effects, whether they be evil or good; for 
 in this way He makes it possible for the soul
 
 84 MONNA LISA 
 
 of man to be free, having the choice between 
 good and evil. Above all, He is no petty 
 sovereign who traffics in his favors for 
 earthly wealth through the medium of 
 priests and friars, but with never failing 
 justice He sells all good things to us for the 
 price of labor." 
 
 "But, Master Leonardo, that sounds very 
 much like some things I used to hear from 
 Fra Girolamo Savonarola, and yet he al- 
 ways urged us to go frequently to confession 
 and mass and to observe all the festivals of 
 our Faith, while you seldom or ever appear 
 in the churches and I do not believe that 
 you have confessed for years." 
 
 "What should I have to confess to a stupid 
 friar, who could have no comprehension of 
 the thoughts that are in my mind or of the 
 motives that inspire my actions! And as 
 for Fra Girolamo while he was an earnest 
 man and loved the truth as he saw it, yet 
 he was ignorant and narrow, and despised 
 the beautiful things of God's universe and 
 the beautiful arts by which men of genius 
 create things in the image of God, and so 
 justly he met his doom. There is among 
 the number of the foolish a certain sect of
 
 LEONARDO 85 
 
 hypocrites, who continually study to de- 
 ceive themselves and others, but more to 
 deceive the others than themselves, yet in- 
 deed deceive themselves more than the 
 others; and these are those saints that re- 
 prove the painters, who on the days of 
 church festivals study the things appertain- 
 ing to the true knowledge of artiftciosa 
 natura. And yet this is the true mode of 
 learning to know the Worker of so many 
 miraculous things, and this is the true way 
 of loving so great an Inventor; for in truth 
 great love is born from a great knowledge 
 of what one loves. Moreover, if you love 
 the Creator for the good things you expect 
 to gain from Him, and not for His highest 
 virtu, you will be like unto a dog which wags 
 his tail and jumps about, fawning on any 
 man who will give him a bone. But if the 
 dog knew the true virtu of such a man, he 
 would love him so much the more that is, 
 if he were able to understand such 
 virtu." 
 
 . . . The young Raffaello Sanzio of 
 Urbino, who was at that time abiding in 
 Florence, came often to the Pope's chamber
 
 86 MONNA LISA 
 
 when I was at work on the cartoon of the 
 battle picture, and to my studio when I was 
 painting the latter especially when Ma- 
 donna Lisa was there. I was very glad of 
 this, since his beauty and lively conversa- 
 tion always put her in an excellent humor. 
 For sometimes after talking with me she 
 would seem much disturbed her face dark- 
 ened with trouble that even Salai's singing 
 could not always drive away. 
 
 One day Messer Baffaello asked if he 
 might be allowed to sketch her, and, when 
 permission was granted, he made an excel- 
 lent drawing, but which gave the impression 
 of an entirely different person from the one 
 my picture revealed. 
 
 "I do not like his drawing," Madonna 
 Lisa said, when he had departed. ' ' It is not 
 like me." 
 
 1 'But perhaps it is like what he sees." 
 
 "That is the trouble. He does not see me 
 as I really am. He has not seen beneath the 
 surface." 
 
 "Yet it is very pleasing." 
 
 "Not to me. But, Master Leonardo, have 
 you noticed that since he has frequented 
 your studio he has ceased to paint as for-
 
 LEONAEDO 87 
 
 merly in the manner of his master, Perugino, 
 and that his work becomes more and more 
 like yours? I visited his studio the other 
 day with Francesco and saw a Madonna he 
 had just finished. There was much of it that 
 might have been by your hand." 
 
 ''Why not, Madonna? We can all learn 
 from each other. I, too, have seen that pic- 
 ture and have noted how much better and 
 truer it is than his earlier work. Un- 
 doubtedly he has learned from me as I too 
 learned from the Milanese painters when I 
 first went to serve II Moro. But though he 
 has adopted many of my methods, and 
 though some parts of his work may resemble 
 mine, yet his picture as a whole would never 
 be mistaken for one by Leonardo Vincio. 
 Messer Eaffaello is not like those little paint- 
 ers who can only copy. What he may get 
 from me he makes his own, and his pictures 
 are infused with his own spirit. He is 
 young yet, but if he continues in the same 
 path, he will become one of the greatest 
 painters in the world. ' ' 
 
 " Perhaps. But he will never become, as 
 great as Leonardo." 
 
 "How do you know that?"
 
 88 MONNA LISA 
 
 "I could rule Mm easily if I so de- 
 sired. ' ' 
 
 "And Leonardo?" 
 
 "That question is unworthy of you, and 
 so I shall not answer it." 
 
 . . . "How were you able, Master 
 Leonardo, to finish the portrait of Francesco 
 so rapidly! You have been at work on mine 
 nearly two years, and yet you say that it is 
 still far from completion." 
 
 I laughed and replied : ' ' That is a strange 
 question to come from Madonna Lisa, who 
 from the easy way in which she manages her 
 husband must know him perfectly." 
 
 "What has that to do with it?" 
 
 "And then," I continued, disregarding her 
 question, "you should be aware that men 
 are much easier to paint than women. 
 Their features are more rugged and pro- 
 nounced, and the shadows which give char- 
 acter of the face are simpler and more 
 definitely marked. Of course handsome 
 youths, whose features are still delicate, and 
 whose characters are not yet fixed, are al- 
 most as difficult as women; but your Fran- 
 cesco is no longer young, his features are
 
 LEONARDO 89 
 
 strongly moulded, and his character, which 
 has been fixed for years, is, as you well know, 
 simple, straightforward, and strong." 
 
 " Would you be difficult to paint, Master 
 Leonardo ? ' ' 
 
 "I do not know, for I have not yet tried 
 it, though I may some day. Ask Salai or 
 Boltraffio; they are both attempting it." 
 
 "What do you think of their attempts?" 
 
 "I have no right to an opinion. No one 
 is a proper judge of the correctness of his 
 own portraits, for these represent him as 
 he appears to others. And he, if he be in- 
 telligent and honest with himself, will know 
 many things in his nature that never appear 
 to the world, and, if he be stupid or self- 
 deceived, will have formed an utterly false 
 idea." 
 
 "Would I be a good judge of your por- 
 trait, Master Leonardo?" 
 
 "In many things yes, I have revealed 
 more of myself to you than to any other 
 human being." 
 
 "Then you have not revealed yourself en- 
 tirely even to me?" 
 
 "Can you ever reveal yourself entirely to 
 another, Madonna? Even if you should
 
 90 MONNA LISA 
 
 make an honest effort, that other could only 
 receive those things he could fully under- 
 stand. The rest either would not exist for 
 him, or, if partly understood, would mislead 
 him." 
 
 She remained for some time silent and 
 thoughtful. Then rising from her chair she 
 went over to the portrait of Madonna 
 Ginevra Benci, which I had just finished, and 
 said: 
 
 "But you have completed this? And 
 Madonna Ginevra is a woman, beautiful, 
 clever, and well-instructed." 
 
 For reply I took the portrait and placed 
 it beside her own. 
 
 "Look for yourself and judge," I said. 
 
 For a space she regarded the two pictures 
 intently and then said: 
 
 "Yes, you seem to me to have reproduced 
 Monna Ginevra exactly the soft hair, the 
 fair skin, the full red lips, and that is her- 
 self looking at you from those lovely eyes 
 you almost expect her to speak. As for my 
 portrait well as you have said, / have no 
 right to an opinion. But I have a right to 
 ask you your opinion of it." 
 
 "You are a problem, Madonna^' I replied.
 
 LEONARDO 91 
 
 "In the first place a problem in drawing to 
 give the outlines of your head, your hands, 
 and your body, without making the contours 
 rigid or blurred. Then you are a problem 
 in color to give the light that glows in your 
 eyes, the soft reflections that hover beneath 
 your chin, and the subtle shadowy tints that 
 flit across your features as your varying 
 thoughts and feelings flit through your mind. 
 But the most difficult problem is the prob- 
 lem of the soul. Shall I ever be able to 
 know what your soul is?" 
 
 "You have a great desire to know every- 
 thing, Master Leonardo; and I do not wish 
 to be merely one of the things that you know 
 so well. I would rather be the one you did 
 not know, for only thus can I save myself. 
 For my part I do not wish to know every- 
 thing too much knowledge makes me 
 afraid. ' ' 
 
 "Then you do not wish to come any more 
 to my studio?" 
 
 "Oh, no, no!" she cried hastily. "I must 
 have my portrait by the greatest master in 
 the world." 
 
 "But every time you come I discover 
 something. And I shall not consider the
 
 92 MONNA LISA 
 
 portrait finished until I have discovered and 
 reproduced what you really are mayhap 
 not in every subtle manifestation, but in the 
 main essentials. It was to discover your 
 soul that I undertook your portrait." 
 
 " Discover not, if your liberty is dear to 
 you. My face is the prison of love. "... 
 
 . . . "That was the story as Francesco 
 told it to me; but as he was not present I 
 am not sure that it is correct." 
 
 "It is not altogether correct, Madonna," I 
 said. "Perhaps someone who is not my 
 friend told him." 
 
 "I thought that was the case when I heard 
 the tale. Therefore do you tell me what 
 really happened." 
 
 "I would prefer not to speak of it again. 
 You see it is not pleasant to me." 
 
 "But you, who so love the truth, would 
 not have me, your true friend, hear nothing 
 but a false tale, and remain ignorant of the 
 truth, would you, Master Leonardo?" 
 
 "Yet if you believe it to be false 
 
 "I also desire greatly to know the truth, 
 and you will not refuse me that, will you 1 ' ' 
 
 "Then, since you desire it so much I will
 
 LEONABDO 93 
 
 tell you. I was passing by the house of the 
 Spini, in front of which were a number of 
 gentlemen engaged in discussing the mean- 
 ing of a certain passage in Dante. One of 
 them called to me, and, stating the question, 
 asked my opinion. At that moment Messer 
 Michel Angelo happened by, and, knowing 
 how much time and thought he has given to 
 the work of the divine poet, I referred the 
 question to him, saying that probably he 
 could answer it better than I. But he said, 
 'Why do you not answer it yourself, wisest 
 of men, you who spent sixteen years en- 
 deavoring to make a clay horse, and, when 
 you tried to cast it in bronze, threw up 
 the task in despair?' Then he turned his 
 back upon me, but as he departed said over 
 his shoulder, 'And you made those Milanese 
 capons believe you could do it, too.' That 
 was all." 
 
 "And is it true that you blushed deeply 
 and made no reply?" 
 
 "About that blush I know nothing, but it 
 is true I made no reply." 
 
 "Why did you not speak, Leonardo? 
 With your wit you could have shown that up- 
 start his proper place, and have taught him
 
 94 MONNA LISA 
 
 that he should not be discourteous to such 
 a man as you." 
 
 "I did not answer for two reasons. First, 
 because one of the greatest sorrows of my 
 life is the loss of my beautiful horse, 1 and 
 then, because I have learned that in such 
 cases as this patience is the best remedy." 
 
 "I cannot see it as you do, Master Leo- 
 nardo." 
 
 "You will, Madonna, when you are older. 
 For patience protects against injuries as 
 clothes protect against the cold. If you add 
 to your clothing as the cold increases, the 
 cold will not be able to injure you. In a 
 similar way for great injuries increase your 
 patience, and then such injuries will not be 
 able to offend your mind." 
 
 "You have spoken as you always speak, 
 and to any person of judgment Buonarroti 
 
 i After Leonardo had worked for sixteen years on the 
 equestrian statue of Francesco Sforza (which he always 
 called his "cavallo" or "horse"), he finished the model. 
 This was set up in the arsenal and was acknowledged, by 
 all who beheld it, to be the greatest equestrian statue in 
 existence. But the Duke Ludovico, who was on the verge 
 of war with France, could not spare the money to cast 
 it properly, and, when he was expelled by the French in 
 1499, the model was destroyed by the Gascon archers and 
 arquebusiers quartered in the arsenal, who used it as a 
 target.
 
 LEONARDO 95 
 
 must appear small beside you. As for me, 
 I cannot endure the fellow." 
 
 "You do not know him, Madonna. He is 
 a very great man, and if he lives will become 
 still greater. For, though he does not know 
 how to paint, his David is the greatest 
 single figure produced in sculpture since the 
 time of the Greeks." 
 
 "I shall not set my judgment against 
 yours in discussion, Master Leonardo, but 
 I do not agree with you. It was just be- 
 cause you differed with him about the place 
 to set up his David that he began to dis- 
 like you. Then he knows that his picture in 
 the great hall will be infinitely surpassed by 
 yours, and he fears that, if you should once 
 more turn your attention to sculpture, his 
 colossal David, on account of which he is so 
 puffed up, would sink into insignificance be- 
 side your smallest work." 
 
 "But, Madonna, he is truly a great soul, 
 who does not depend upon antiquated 
 authority ; he loves and worships Nature and 
 Truth and Liberty. You do not know him. ' ' 
 
 "I know him well enough to be certain 
 that though indeed he is no ordinary man,
 
 96 MONNA LISA 
 
 he is not, nor can lie ever become as great 
 as Leonardo. And, you remember, you told 
 me that just as soon as Virtu was born Envy 
 was brought forth against her; and that 
 there could sooner be a body without a 
 shadow than Virtu without Envy. So 
 Buonarroti is consumed by envy because he 
 knows you are greater than he. I never 
 liked him, and now I hate him. He " 
 
 Here she stopped suddenly, then after a 
 moment began to speak upon indifferent sub- 
 jects, and, shortly after, saying she was 
 fatigued, departed. When she was gone, 
 though I was well pleased by what she had 
 said in my praise, yet I could not help think- 
 ing how unjust she had been to that great 
 man, Buonarroti, simply because he had been 
 discourteous to me. And I was in some de- 
 gree disappointed in that she, who was so 
 superior to other women, had not been able 
 to be just to a great man when her feelings 
 were involved. However, the next morning 
 when I awoke and remembered how happy 
 her sympathy and appreciation had made me, 
 this thought came into my mind : May there 
 not be, after all, something greater even than 
 Justice r"
 
 LEONARDO 97 
 
 [The following fragments are all that could be saved 
 from a mass of tattered scraps, where some mouse had 
 made a nest in the middle of Leonardo's manuscript:] 
 
 Do not desire for yourself riches that can 
 be so easily lost; virtu is our true riches 
 and the true reward of her possession. She 
 cannot be destroyed, she does not abandon 
 us while life is left us. As for material 
 riches and external honors, you always hold 
 them with fear, for these things leave their 
 possessor tricked and scorned when he has 
 lost possession of them. 
 
 0, human misery! to how many things 
 have you enslaved yourself for the sake of 
 money ! 
 
 Behold a thing, which the more you fear it 
 and the more you avoid it, the more you are 
 brought near to it ! This is poverty, for, the 
 more you try to avoid it, the more you make 
 yourself miserable and without repose. 
 
 Those hands into which snow ducats and 
 precious stones soon tire of service, and such
 
 98 MONNA LISA 
 
 service as they do render is only for their 
 own selfish ends and not for others ' good. 
 
 There is the same proportion between light 
 and shadow as between truth and falsehood. 
 
 tHe cannot be turned who is fixed to a 
 star. 
 
 The soul can never corrupt itself in the 
 corruption of the body. 
 
 Lust is the cause of generation, 
 Gluttony is the maintenance of life, 
 Fear or caution is the prolongation of life, 
 Pain is the salvation of the bodily instru- 
 ment. 
 
 Nature is full of infinite reasons (ragioni) 
 that have never been in experience. 
 
 [The following is evidently from a conversation concern- 
 ing Leonardo's battle picture.] 
 
 War is the most bestial of madnesses. 
 
 It is a most execrable thing to destroy a 
 man's life, not only because of the wonder- 
 ful work of nature in the human body but
 
 LEONARDO 99 
 
 also because of the respect due the soul that 
 dwells in such a marvellous piece of archi- 
 tecture; since truly, whatever it may be, the 
 soul is certainly a divine thing, and should 
 therefore be allowed to occupy its habita- 
 tion at its own good pleasure, and should not' 
 be driven from it by our anger or malignity. 
 
 How many generals and how many princes 
 have passed away of whom not a single 
 memory remains! And yet they strove 
 only for commands, sovereignties, and 
 riches in order to leave behind them a fa- 
 mous name. 
 
 He who does not esteem life does not merit 
 it.
 
 IV 
 
 THE TELESCOPE 
 
 I HAD several times spoken to Madonna 
 Lisa of my studies concerning the nature and 
 the movements of the heavenly bodies 
 what things I had already discovered, and 
 what other discoveries might be made by 
 further investigation. In all these matters 
 she showed the greatest interest, often mak- 
 ing remarks and asking questions which 
 were much more pointed and showed greater 
 intelligence than those of Madama, the 
 Marchioness of Mantua, whose conversa- 
 tion had so delighted me when I had tarried 
 in her Castello five years before. And when 
 one day I told Madonna Lisa that I had dis- 
 covered an arrangement of lenses through 
 which the moon and stars might be seen mag- 
 nified, 1 she did not rest until I had promised 
 to show her the wonders, the description of 
 
 i This evidently explains the passage in the Codex At- 
 lanticus (187, a) "Fa occhiaU da vedere la luna grande." 
 (Make lenses in order to see the moon large.) 
 100
 
 LEONARDO 101 
 
 which had so aroused her curiosity. There- 
 fore, one clear night in May, when the moon 
 was full, I had my contrivance conveyed to 
 her house in the Via delP Amore, and ac- 
 companied by Messer Francesco we as- 
 cended to the roof where there was a bel- 
 vedere excellently fitted for the purpose of 
 astronomical observations. 
 
 Great was the amazement and delight of 
 Madonna Lisa as she gazed through the 
 lenses. At last she cried enthusiastically: 
 
 "It is all just as you have told me, 
 Master Leonardo, only the reality far sur- 
 passes your descriptions." 
 
 "It is always so with the works of arti- 
 ficiosa natura," I replied. "The reality is 
 far more marvellous than any words that can 
 be said; and why should we desire the im- 
 possible when the actual is so wonderful?'* 
 
 When Messer Francesco had viewed the 
 moon in his turn he asked me: "What are 
 those dark spots which seem to the naked eye 
 to form the image of a face? Through the 
 glasses they look like shadows." 
 
 "You are not far wrong," I replied. "If 
 you keep the details of those spots under 
 close observation, you will often find great
 
 102 MONNA LISA 
 
 variation in them, and this I myself have 
 proved by drawing them." . . . 
 
 . . . Then, led on by Madonna Lisa's 
 intelligent questions I repeated what I had 
 told her before, how I was convinced that the 
 sun did not move about the earth, and that 
 the earth was not the center of the circle of 
 the sun, nor in the center of the universe; 
 but that it was a star like Jupiter and Venus, 
 and, when the moon was below us performed 
 the same office for it as it did for us on this 
 night, and sundry other things of similar im- 
 port, which were the result of my observa- 
 tions and mathematical calculations. But 
 Messer Francesco yawned and said : 
 
 "All this must have taken you much time, 
 Master Leonardo." 
 
 "Days and months and even years," I an- 
 swered. 
 
 "I marvel greatly," he continued, "why 
 you, the most famous painter of the age, who 
 can dispose of any picture you may produce 
 at any price you may choose to ask, can 
 waste your time on such fruitless studies, 
 which not only will procure you no money, 
 but may even bring you into trouble with the 
 Holy Church; for certainly your notion that
 
 LEONAEDO 103 
 
 our earth is not the center of the universe 
 seems to be heretical. And as your good 
 friend I advise you to say nothing about it. ' ' 
 Then I, seeing he was not interested in the 
 matter, ceased speaking to him, for you are 
 a fool if you try to force your ideas upon 
 an unwilling mind. But Madonna Lisa be- 
 came all the more eager to look through the 
 lenses at the moon and the planets that were 
 visible, and to question me about them; and 
 presently we noticed that Messer Francesco 
 had fallen asleep. Then she asked me fewer 
 questions and those in a low voice in order 
 not to disturb him. At length, as we sat 
 there side by side gazing into the heavens a 
 silence fell upon us a sweet silence, and 
 from time to time we gazed into each other's 
 eyes.
 
 WHEN at last, I had painted in oils upon 
 the wall of the grand hall a portion of my 
 battle picture, and had failed in the attempt 
 to burn in the colors by a method of my own 
 invention, I was as it were seized by despair ; 
 for it seemed to me that my greatest 
 works of art, like the Cenacolo and the 
 Cavallo in Milan, were doomed to remain 
 incomplete or to be destroyed by ignorant 
 hands. I could not bear to meet with men 
 who ever asked me how I was succeeding 
 with my picture, which I grew to hate more 
 and more every day, since I could not take 
 my mind from those portions where the 
 colors had run together, being too distant 
 from the fire I had made to dry properly. 
 For in my haste, having been urged by the 
 impatient Gonfalonier, I had overlooked the 
 truth that what may be perfectly successful 
 in small things often fails when attempted 
 
 104
 
 LEONAEDO 105 
 
 on a large scale because the conditions are 
 so different. And this I should have known 
 well from my experience in constructing 
 mechanisms to imitate the flight of birds. 
 . . . One day I sent to Madonna Lisa ask- 
 ing if she could come, for I hoped that in the 
 endeavor to depict her I might . . . 
 
 "You must not try to paint any more to- 
 day," she said, rising from her chair and 
 coming over to me. "You are too much 
 troubled in mind." 
 
 "If that is true, then to paint you should 
 be a recreation." 
 
 "No, my friend, the trouble is too deep 
 for that. Tell me about it; that will ease 
 your mind," she said as she seated herself 
 near me. 
 
 "Why should I annoy you with my petty 
 worries, Madonna? It is better for me to 
 settle them within myself." 
 
 "Am I then nothing to you? You have 
 called me 'your friend,* and yet what value 
 is a friend if she cannot help you bear your 
 troubles. Tell me." 
 
 "They are not worth while, and I am no 
 weakling." 
 
 "No, my friend, you are only consumed
 
 106 MONNA LISA 
 
 by pride. But I know what is troubling you, 
 and indeed it is no small matter. It is a 
 long time since you last sent for me, and I 
 have divined the reason as I have waited for 
 your messenger. Your trouble is about the 
 battle picture. Francesco has told me of the 
 failure of your experiment, and also I can- 
 not help hearing what others say. And you 
 alone, my friend, will not speak. Do I de- 
 serve this?" she asked as she looked me 
 steadfastly in the eyes. 
 
 Then, as a river when a dam is broken 
 pours its waters in a tumultuous flood, so I 
 poured forth everything that had been tor- 
 turing me. It was the first time in my life 
 I had done such a thing, but I must needs 
 confess that when I had finished there was 
 within my soul a sense of relief and peace 
 unlike anything I had ever felt before. 
 Then my lady said softly: 
 
 "It is in truth a great trouble, my friend, 
 but you cannot fail to succeed in the end and 
 achieve one of your greatest triumphs." 
 
 "But I cannot see how I can complete it 
 as I have begun." 
 
 "Then begin anew, as you did with the
 
 LEONARDO 107 
 
 Cavallo. If you cannot fix the colors in oil, 
 why not paint in fresco!" 
 
 "It is not possible to render in fresco the 
 effects of the smoke and the dust that makes 
 so great a part of a real battle." 
 
 1 ' Then continue your experiments, you will 
 certainly find a way. In the end you can- 
 not fail. I know it." And for a moment 
 the look in her eyes made me feel that I 
 should succeed. 
 
 "But, Madonna," I said, as doubt seized 
 me again, "you do not know how I have 
 grown to hate the picture. You yourself do 
 not like it." 
 
 "What value is my like or dislike? I, an 
 ignorant woman, who know nothing of real 
 war! You are painting for men, and you 
 have drawn the bestial madness of war, the 
 horrible truth. I believe now every word 
 you said to me when you showed me the car- 
 toon. All men should know war as it really 
 is, and Leonardo is the only man who can 
 make them see it in its awful truth." 
 
 "You have not seen Buonarroti's cartoon 
 then. Though still unfinished, it is marvel- 
 lous."
 
 108 MONNA LISA 
 
 "Yes, I went to view it a few days ago, 
 because of late your enemies and enviers 
 have been extolling it much. I must admit 
 it is a good work in its way. It is a fine 
 composition of half-naked bodies in vigor- 
 ous attitudes. But that is all. And mark 
 me, he will never put this work in color in 
 spite of all the praises of his flatterers. 
 "Why? Because he knows well that his car- 
 toon is only an episode, chosen to display 
 his knowledge of anatomy, while yours is 
 war itself.*' Then she went on to say much 
 more that I cannot now recall, and, whether 
 it was her reasoning, or the enthusiasm of 
 her sweet voice, or the sympathetic light in 
 her lovely eyes, or the witchery of her subtle 
 smile, or all together, I know not, but before 
 she ceased she made me feel that once more 
 I could take joy in the work, were it only for 
 her sake, and that I could most certainly 
 carry it to a successful conclusion. . . . 
 
 After she had gone I sat and meditated 
 upon the beauty and sweetness of her nature, 
 which had brought such comfort and joy to 
 me in such sore trouble. And yet 5 when I 
 likened her to an angel of God, I could not 
 but remember what cruelty I had seen her
 
 LEONAEDO 109 
 
 at times show to Salai, who, nevertheless, 
 worshipped her and fawned upon her like a 
 poor dog fain to lick the hand that has beaten 
 him. Still I was not able to blame her or 
 to think less of her on this account, but 
 luxuriated in the happiness and hope with 
 which her comprehension, sympathy, and en- 
 couragement had filled me. And as I looked 
 back over the records I had kept of many of 
 our conversations during the years I had 
 been painting her, I noted that in truth she 
 had spoken little while I had spoken much, 
 yet that little had seemed to draw out the 
 very best that was in me, and had made clear 
 the understanding that had grown up be- 
 tween us in the years, so gradually, so 
 quietly, that I had not become fully aware 
 of it until this day when I so sorely needed 
 her sympathy the sympathy which she had 
 given so simply, so easily. What was that, I 
 thought, which, whether she were sympa- 
 thetic and tender or heedless and cruel, 
 drew men unto her and filled them with her ? 
 Was it in truth the woman soul?
 
 BOOK III LISA
 
 YOUTHFUL PASSION 
 
 IT was shortly after I had ceased working 
 on the battle picture for a time as I thought, 
 but forever as God has decided that 
 Salai came to me one day when I was alone. 
 I saw that he was much agitated by some- 
 thing he had in his mind, for, though he be- 
 gan talking about indifferent things, his 
 words would stumble one upon another, and 
 again and again he would stop, blushing and 
 biting his lips. At last, looking upon him 
 with much kindness, I said : 
 
 "Drea, you have something to tell me, 
 something to confess. Do not fear. Have 
 you not been long enough with me to know 
 that whatever you may have done, my love 
 for you never fails? Come now, tell me, 
 what is it?" I put my arm about him and 
 drew him unto me. He laid his beautiful 
 head upon my shoulder for an instant, and 
 looked into my eyes. Then breaking from 
 
 113
 
 114 MONNA LISA 
 
 me suddenly, he covered his face with his 
 hands and cried: 
 
 11 Master, Master, it is not anything that 
 you think, nor does it concern you, but I must 
 tell someone or I shall perish. I love her." 
 
 "Whom?" I asked, though I knew well 
 who it was. 
 
 "Who could it be but Madonna Lisa, whom 
 everybody must love." 
 
 "Drea, dear, since everyone must love 
 her, why should not you ? Then why are you 
 so disturbed in mind? I am certain that the 
 services you render are very pleasing to 
 her." 
 
 "I know that well, but that is not it. For 
 these three years I have been content to serve 
 her in every way to bear the torch for her, 
 to fetch and carry like a trained dog, to sing 
 to her and make music for her like a tame 
 bird, to come at her call and to go away 
 when she bids me and just to do all this 
 has been the greatest happiness that I have 
 ever known." 
 
 "I have seen this, dear Drea, and it has 
 pleased me very much." 
 
 "And I, too, was content with this and was 
 raised into the seventh heaven of delight
 
 LISA 115 
 
 when she rewarded my service with a kind 
 word, spoken in that voice which surpasses 
 the voices of angels, or with that marvellous 
 smile which is like the opening of a flower; 
 and I have prayed daily that I might always 
 be worthy of serving her, and that she might 
 always be glad to receive my service. ' * 
 
 "I have seen that, too, and also have been 
 much pleased thereby, since because of her 
 you seem to have found your soul. Not only 
 have you withdrawn from your former friv- 
 olous companions and have checked your 
 sensuality, but your work is much stronger 
 and better." 
 
 "I know that, Master, I know that," he 
 cried impatiently. "But that is not what 
 I want now. Yes, I was happy to be her 
 dog, to fawn on her for a kind word But 
 now I want her her herself!" 
 
 "You are mad, my boy!" I cried in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 "I know it, Master, I know it. I know 
 how mad it is to desire such a thing but I 
 cannot help it it is stronger than I. She, 
 too, treats me as a boy but I am no longer 
 a boy I am a man with a man's passions, 
 with a man's desires."
 
 116 MONNA LISA 
 
 "My poor Drea, how long has this been?" 
 "Only lately. But I cannot behold her 
 without longing to cast my arms about her, 
 to carry her off in defiance of all the world. 
 And Messer Francesco, too, who has been so 
 kind and generous to me, I hate him, yes, I 
 hate him because because he is her hus- 
 band because he is privileged to touch her 
 because yes because he may do with her 
 what he wills I cannot endure to see them 
 together " Here he stopped short for his 
 passion was too great. I drew him to me 
 again and endeavored to soothe him. And 
 though at first he yielded to my caresses and 
 seemed somewhat calmer, yet again he drew 
 back and said, almost in a whisper: 
 
 "And Master, I have been so envious of 
 you. You she treats as an equal, nay, even as 
 a superior. To you she unfolds the wondrous 
 thoughts of her mind, the deep feelings of 
 her heart, and you are privileged to express 
 in your perfect work the sum of her per- 
 fections. And I have noticed as the years 
 have passed how that first fear she had of 
 you has passed away, and now there is no 
 one in the whole world who is so much to her 
 as you. But you, in your wise folly have sat
 
 LISA 117 
 
 there before her, calmly analysing and re- 
 producing her, without once seeing that it 
 was not merely a beautiful body and face to 
 paint, nor even a brilliant mind to investi- 
 gate, but a woman's soul no, no a 
 woman's heart crying out to you holding 
 out her arms to you and you you deaf 
 and blind!" 
 
 "In truth, my child," I said, "you are in 
 an evil case, and I shall do all I can to aid 
 you not to obtain your desire though, for 
 you should not desire the impossible " 
 
 "I know it," he interrupted fiercely. "I 
 know it only too well. And though I know 
 that often great ladies have loved men of 
 lowly birth, and have even given themselves 
 to them, yet that is impossible with Madonna 
 Lisa, for she is not only the most beautiful, 
 the most desirable woman in this world, she 
 is also the noblest, the purest, the best, for 
 in her is the dwelling of the woman soul in 
 all its perfection. And, Master, I know my 
 own unworthiness. I curse myself when- 
 ever I find myself cherishing sinful thoughts 
 about her. And yet the thoughts will come, 
 and, though I may be able to drive them 
 away for a time yet they soon return, and
 
 118 MONNA LISA 
 
 return with greater power. What shall I 
 do?" Then he fell a- weeping. I drew him 
 again to me and stroked his hair, while the 
 tears flowed and the sobs shook his body. 
 At last when he was still I asked him: 
 
 "Drea, dear, can you remember when this 
 change came over your love ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes, Master, I can never forget it. You 
 remember that drawing you made for the 
 Leda, which she admired so much because, 
 as she said, it set forth the beautiful sym- 
 bolism of the myth without the least trace 
 of the obscenity which had disgraced Buonar- 
 roti's design, which she hated. You remem- 
 ber her words, do you not, Master? She was 
 sitting over there, and I was near by, having 
 been playing the lute and singing for her. 
 I carried her torch that evening, and at her 
 door she told me how much she desired that 
 drawing, but she would never ask for it, be- 
 cause you might need it when you came to 
 paint that masterpiece, and she knew that 
 you were too much occupied with important 
 things to find time to make a replica. Then 
 I said I would do my best to make her a 
 faithful copy if she would accept it. This 
 seemed to please her greatly; so I procured
 
 LISA 119 
 
 a piece of paper exactly like that which you 
 had used and with infinite pains made a copy 
 so like that you yourself could not tell them 
 apart. ' ' 
 
 ' * Then why did you not give her my draw- 
 ing?" 
 
 11 Master, now that you have spoken, I con- 
 fess that I did after I had shown you my 
 copy instead of the original one day when you 
 asked for it; and you, when you had looked 
 at it and had made a few changes, put it 
 away well satisfied that it was your own " 
 
 "You rascally little imitator!" I cried. 
 "I have warned you again and again against 
 that vice of imitation. I see now that you will 
 never be a great painter, but only a little 
 Leonardo, not the great Salai, but only the 
 little 'Salaino.' However, you are the one 
 best fitted to do most of the work on the 
 Leda, so you may begin whenever you de- 
 sire and use your own deceitful cartoon in 
 the business, too." 
 
 "God reward you, Master, for I too love 
 that picture even as she does, and I shall 
 try to do the work so as to please both you 
 and her." 
 
 "But go on with your story, Salaino."
 
 120 MONNA LISA 
 
 "When I took her the drawing, she looked 
 at it lovingly for a space carefully examin- 
 ing every line and then she cried with a 
 look of horror: 'Salai, you have stolen this 
 it is the master's own work. You must 
 return it immediately before he discovers 
 his loss/ For you see, Master, her eyes, be- 
 ing those of love, could discern differences 
 that neither you, the creator, nor I, the imi- 
 tator, had detected. Then I told her how 
 you had believed my copy to be your own 
 work. She smiled and said that she would 
 keep the drawing and treasure it greatly, not 
 only because it was the work of the greatest 
 master in the world, but because of the ex- 
 ceeding love I had shown in accomplishing 
 her desire to the full. But she also charged 
 me that, if ever you should discover the 
 fraud, I should confess the theft, so that she 
 might restore the original." 
 
 "I am glad, Drea, that she has my draw- 
 ing, though indeed yours is fully as good." 
 
 "Not for her, Master. Alas! for her the 
 work of Salai is not as the work of Leo- 
 nardo." 
 
 "But you have not yet told me of your- 
 self."
 
 LISA 121 
 
 "Ah! Master, it is difficult. When I 
 when I was about to depart, she thanked me 
 again and again, and held out her perfect 
 hand, and I taking it knelt and kissed it, and 
 then she stooped and and kissed me me, 
 Andrea Salai, on the forehead. And, ever 
 since, that kiss has burned into my brain, it 
 has eaten its way into my heart, and I am 
 no longer the same. Madness has taken pos- 
 session of me. Madness, delicious, terrible 
 madness, which indeed has raised me to the 
 gods, but I fear it will prove my destruc- 
 tion. Pity me, Master." 
 
 "No, Drea, I cannot pity you, though I see 
 plainly how you suffer, for well do I know 
 that only through suffering do men become 
 great. Madonna Lisa can be to you what 
 Beatrice was to Dante, and will lift you from 
 the Inferno, where now you are in torture, 
 through the chastening fires of Purgatory, to 
 the splendors of Paradise, the paradise of 
 art, where, like a true son of God, you will 
 create beautiful and great things, even as 
 He does." 
 
 "That might satisfy a soul like Dante, like 
 you ; but as for me I do not desire the para- 
 dise of art or any other paradise where she
 
 122 MONNA LISA 
 
 would not be in my arms. For one kiss 
 from her upon my lips I would willingly bar- 
 ter all hopes of Heaven and joyfully con- 
 sume in the fires of Hell for all eternity." 
 
 Seeing that it was impossible to reason 
 with such divine madness, I comforted him 
 as well as I was able, and indeed he seemed 
 somewhat relieved because he had spoken of 
 his love. 
 
 When he was gone I meditated much upon 
 the case, and it seemed good that if I should 
 be obliged to go to Borne, as was then prob- 
 able, I should take the youth with me, for, 
 perhaps, amid new scenes and among new 
 companions and being far away from the 
 subject of his desire, his sensual longing 
 might change back into the more spiritual 
 love, which would elevate him far above the 
 common herd of men. And yet, I must con- 
 fess, I myself envied somewhat the youth 
 and the glory of his passion. Could it be 
 possible that I too might feel as he did 
 and for the same object? Could it be pos- 
 sible that she, as Salai said, might love me, 
 and we two ? No, it was impossible. I 
 had seen more than fifty years, my blood ran 
 calmly and sluggishly; I could neither in-
 
 LISA 123 
 
 spire in her the love I should desire, nor 
 could I love her in the manner she would 
 desire. It was impossible. It was too 
 late.
 
 n 
 
 A DIFFICULTY 
 
 WHEN Madonna Lisa came to the studio 
 the next time after the foregoing conversa- 
 tion, I told her that I knew of the substitu- 
 tion of the drawing, and was glad she had 
 the original. I also praised Salai's work 
 and spoke of what I thought he might ac- 
 complish if only he secured full dominion 
 over himself. She looked very thoughtful as 
 I spoke, and asked: 
 
 "Does any man ever gain full dominion 
 over himself?" 
 
 "Mayhap not for all the time, for you re- 
 member the scripture, 'Let him who thinketh 
 he standeth take heed lest he fall.' But the 
 strong soul is like a mighty prince, and, 
 though evil minded subjects may sometimes 
 rise in rebellion and for a time appear to 
 have overcome their master, yet in the end 
 
 he always asserts his power, and, having put 
 124
 
 LISA 125 
 
 down the rebels with a strong hand, returns 
 to rule as before." 
 
 "Always?" she asked with a strange look 
 in her eyes. 
 
 "Always in the end, if he is truly a strong 
 soul. It is only the weak who fail, while 
 temporary defeat only makes the strong man 
 stronger. ' ' 
 
 Then we looked at Salai's copy of my Leda, 
 and she showed me how she knew my work 
 from that of anyone else, and said: 
 
 "Salai can never do what you can." 
 
 "I do not wish him to. His chief fault is 
 that his work too much resembles mine, and 
 the pupil should preserve his own nature in- 
 tact, even when he is learning most from 
 his master. But Drea is young, and, with 
 added years and increasing self-control " 
 
 "He will never gain it." 
 
 "It is my hope, Madonna, to train a pupil 
 who will accomplish what I have failed to 
 do." 
 
 "It will not be Salai," she said with de- 
 cision. 
 
 "Why do you judge him so harshly?" 
 
 "I do not judge him harshly," she replied. 
 "He is different from you. He is like the
 
 126 MONNA LISA 
 
 little brook which flows joyously among the 
 meadows and beneath the trees. Beautiful 
 flowers grow along the banks, and in the 
 branches that overhang, sweet birds are 
 ever singing to the music of the stream, 
 while its gay ripples reflect back the light 
 from the blue sky in a thousand glittering 
 tints. But you, Master, are a mountain tor- 
 rent that rose in the eternal snows among the 
 Alps, and first you tore your way amidst 
 rocks and cliffs, destroying whatever op- 
 posed you, until you became a great river, 
 and now you flow calmly but with irresistible 
 force through rich lands and by mighty cities 
 until you find at last your home in the bound- 
 less ocean which surrounds the world." 
 
 "But," said I, "Salai is capable of pas- 
 sion." And I was minded to tell her of his 
 confession, but did not, because of his con- 
 fidence in me. 
 
 "Not great passion," she rejoined, "the 
 passion that moves the world. Like the 
 streamlet he will foam and bubble over the 
 little stones that may come in his way, and 
 in the Spring he may flood some fields hard 
 by; but he will soon subside and be the same 
 joyous, laughing streamlet as before. I love
 
 LISA 127 
 
 this little streamlet, and I have had much 
 pleasure from its joyousness and beauty ; but 
 I know well that it is no mighty river. But, 
 Master," she continued, changing the subject 
 suddenly as was often her wont, "pardon me 
 for asking again, but when do you expect to 
 finish my portrait? I ask it now, because I 
 am soon to go for a time to Naples to visit 
 my relatives and it may be months before I 
 return." 
 
 "And I, too, expect to go to Kome for a 
 time. The Most High Pontiff has sent word 
 to the Gonfalonier that he needs to consult 
 me about some fortifications he is planning." 
 
 "Do you care as much to build fortresses 
 as you do to paint pictures?" 
 
 "No, by no means, but there are useful 
 things that are not beautiful for example, 
 men and fortresses. In the present state of 
 affairs, Florence must stand well with the 
 Most High Pontiff as well as with the Most 
 Christian King, and so the Gonfalonier, 
 though he desires greatly to have the battle 
 picture completed, yet cannot afford to 
 offend the pontiff. Therefore, though at 
 present I should much prefer to work upon 
 your portrait, I must go to Borne."
 
 128 MONNA LISA 
 
 "What remains to be done? To me it 
 seems perfect already." 
 
 "There are two things that do not satisfy 
 me. The first is your smile, which perhaps I 
 may never be able to achieve, for it seems like 
 the light of the sky that painters can only 
 suggest in their pictures; and the other is the 
 torso. The neck and the bosom and the hands 
 are complete, but as for the body, I have tried 
 model after model, but all are too clumsy or 
 too slender not one has that perfection of 
 proportion that I imagine must be yours." 
 
 "Why do you not employ your imagina- 
 tion, Master Leonardo, and your wonderful 
 knowledge of anatomy?" 
 
 "So I have, but therein also have I failed. 
 Come, Madonna, and look at these drawings. 
 Here are all my attempts." 
 
 As she looked at them she was silent, and 
 her look grew even more thoughtful. She 
 lingered for a long time over them, and 
 finally, as she laid the last one aside, she 
 laughed a short, strange laugh, and said: 
 
 "You are right, Master. None of these 
 will do. Only one person can help you. 
 Send Salai away to-morrow." And having 
 called her nurse she departed quickly.
 
 Ill 
 
 THE CAVERN 
 
 THE next day I sent Salai away on a mis- 
 sion which would employ him till evening, 
 and gave word to my servants that I was not 
 to be disturbed on any pretense. In the 
 afternoon she came alone, attired in a long 
 cloak with a hood that covered her head. As 
 she entered she said briefly : 
 
 "Have you everything ready, Master?" 
 
 "Yes, Madonna." 
 
 She seated herself in the accustomed spot, 
 waited till I had taken my place at the easel, 
 then threw back her cloak and the upper part 
 of her loose robe and said : 
 
 "Go to work." 
 
 I took the crayon and began, but my hand 
 trembled. It was poor work I knew, but it 
 was my only chance to record the truth, and 
 I did as well as I could. For a time we were 
 both silent her eyes had a fixed look. At 
 last she spoke: 
 
 129
 
 130 MONNA LISA 
 
 "Do not put my face upon it, Master." 
 
 "I do not intend to draw any face." 
 
 "No, I do not like that. I hate headless 
 things like the statues they find in the earth. 
 It seems like death death by the axe. My 
 body must live. You must invent a face. ' ' 
 
 "Certainly, Madonna." 
 
 "What will it be like?" 
 
 "A smiling woman, proud, condescending, 
 self-satisfied, because she knows she is so 
 beautiful." 
 
 "That will not be like me." 
 
 "For that reason I shall make it es- 
 pecially self-satisfied, since you are never 
 satisfied, but always longing, and longing for 
 some new experience, some further insight." 
 
 She made no answer, and we were silent 
 for a long time. Her face grew more and 
 more thoughtful, even melancholy. And yet 
 it had a new charm, an effect unlike any I 
 had seen before, so that I could with dif- 
 ficulty work on the figure and not endeavor 
 to fix that thoughtful, melancholy face on my 
 paper. Finally she spoke softly and slowly 
 as if waking from a dream : 
 
 "Tell me one of your stories, Master. 
 Nothing witty and nothing horrible, but
 
 USA 131 
 
 something from your own life. Something 
 that is fitting." 
 
 I related the following: "Once, driven by 
 my greedy desire, I travelled to Mongibello 
 to see the great and various and strange 
 forms made by artificiosa natura; and, hav- 
 ing wandered some distance among the 
 gloomy rocks, I came to the entrance of a 
 great cavern, in front of which I stood some 
 time, for I was astonished, not having ex- 
 pected to find such a thing. Then, bending 
 my back into an arch, I rested my left hand 
 on my knee, and held my right hand over 
 my downcast and contracted eyebrows, often 
 bending first one way and then the other to 
 see if I could discover anything within. 
 But this being forbidden by the deep dark- 
 ness of the cavern, after I had remained 
 there some time, two contrary emotions 
 arose in me fear and desire fear of the 
 threatening, dark cavern, desire to see 
 whether there were any miraculous thing 
 within." 
 
 There I ceased, half expecting that she 
 would ask me to continue, but she, on the 
 contrary, remained silent and thoughtful. 
 At last, when she saw that I had finished my
 
 132 MONNA LISA 
 
 drawing, having readjusted her robe and 
 covered her head with the hood of her cloak 
 and without even glancing at my work, she 
 left the house. I accompanied her, for it was 
 growing dark, but we spoke no word on the 
 way. At her door she turned to me and 
 asked : 
 
 "Master, can you escape from that 
 cavern f ' ' 
 
 "I do not know." 
 
 And then she entered the house, leaving 
 me alone.
 
 IV 
 
 THE FLESH OF WOMAN 
 
 THAT night I could not sleep. I tossed 
 about endeavoring to meditate upon other 
 pictures that I had in mind, or upon certain 
 problems in mathematics and mechanics, but 
 it was in vain. Before my mind was ever 
 that vision of her fair body surmounted by 
 her thoughtful face and her mysterious eyes. 
 The vision seemed more distinct, more real 
 than the actuality had been some hours be- 
 fore, for then my eyes had been as though 
 blinded by a rosy mist. At length I arose, 
 and striking a light, I took a fresh leaf of 
 paper and drew with much exactness the 
 vivid vision before me. When it was com- 
 pleted, just as the grey dawn appeared, I re- 
 tired to bed, and, being much exhausted, 
 slept until far into the day. 1 
 
 flesh of woman, of the woman who is be- 
 
 i This drawing must be the one which is now in the 
 Cond6 Museum at Chantilly. 
 133
 
 134 MONNA LISA 
 
 loved! how thou dost confuse the mind and 
 even the soul of man! With thy warm 
 glow thou comest between him and the pure 
 light of knowledge that shines from heaven. 
 Like the mist at dawn thou veilest all things 
 so that he cannot see them in their truth, and 
 therefore, enfolded in an iridescent cloud, he 
 often wanders about until he has lost forever 
 the true way. And yet, of all God-created 
 things, thou art among the most beautiful, 
 and, being created of God, thou art not 
 wholly evil. Through thee man may ascend 
 into Heaven or descend into Hell. But, how, 
 thou, our Creator, the Prime Mover of all 
 things, is thy creature to know the true 
 way? . . . 
 
 When I awoke from sleep I felt myself 
 much refreshed, and my mind clear. Then, 
 taking my drawing, I sat down before the 
 portrait and with a sure hand made such 
 alterations as were necessary to bring the 
 figure into perfect harmony with the face and 
 hands. 
 
 The portrait was now almost completed. 
 To the ordinary observer it would be a per- 
 fect likeness, to me some further work was 
 needed to express in her features what was
 
 LISA 135 
 
 in the soul within, unseen by all but me. 
 Still it seemed best that the portrait should 
 wait until we had both returned to Florence, 
 for at this time my hand, disturbed by the 
 promptings of the flesh, could not accomplish 
 what was needed to make the portrait worthy 
 of her. 
 
 Therefore I sent word by Salai, that it 
 would be well for her not to come again 
 until she should have returned from Naples, 
 by which voyage I hoped that her health, for 
 some time failing, might be fully established. 
 She sent back a reply by the youth, saying 
 I had decided rightly, since at the present 
 time she did not feel that she was able to 
 bear the fatigue of any more sittings, but 
 she expected to see me again before she left 
 Florence, which was to be in a few days. 
 
 Salai was much distressed when he thus 
 learned of her approaching departure, for 
 she had not spoken of it to him before. I 
 then told him of my purpose to take him 
 with me to Rome, where he would not only 
 have new scenes and new people to distract 
 his mind, but would be in reality much nearer 
 the object of his adoration. Yet none of us 
 knew that the last sitting for the portrait
 
 136 MONNA LISA 
 
 had been that one when she had come alone, 
 though indeed I was destined to paint once 
 more upon it with the vision of her soul be- 
 fore my eyes.
 
 THE BANQUET 
 
 THE night before Madonna Lisa left 
 Florence, Messer Francesco gave a banquet, 
 and at his wish I was present. There were 
 many of the chief men of the city at the table 
 with their wives, resplendent in costly robes, 
 eating largely of the rich food set before 
 them. I listened wearily to their chatter, 
 saying but little myself, for the things they 
 talked of were of small interest to me. I 
 could also see that the face of Madonna Lisa 
 had a tired look, and that the smile with 
 which she at times endeavored to cover her 
 weariness was not in anything like the radi- 
 ance that had so often beamed upon me while 
 I was painting. 
 
 As I looked and listened I could not help 
 thinking that gross men of commonplace 
 habits and of little power of reasoning and 
 discourse do not merit such a beautiful in- 
 strument as the body, nor so great a variety 
 
 137
 
 138 MONNA LISA 
 
 of delicate adjustments as do thinking men 
 and those of great power of expression, but 
 they need only a sack wherein they may re- 
 ceive food and whence it may issue ; that in 
 truth they ought not to be judged otherwise 
 than as passageways for food, because they 
 do not appear to me to participate in any 
 way with the human species otherwise than 
 in the voice and form, while as to all the rest 
 they fall even below the beasts. 
 
 I also wondered how Messer Francesco, 
 honest man though he was, had succeeded in 
 winning and holding the love of Madonna 
 Lisa, seeing that he was in every way igno- 
 rant of what was highest and best in her 
 namely her soul, which he could never under- 
 stand, having neither eyes to see, nor ears 
 to hear, nor mind fit to receive what part of 
 her perfect soul she might choose to reveal. 
 
 While the banquet was going on there was 
 music, which few of the company heard, be- 
 cause of their talk about common things, 
 and because of the rattle and clatter of 
 knives upon platters. But when all had well 
 filled their sacks with food, the company 
 withdrew into another hall, the musicians 
 played a merrier strain, and some of the
 
 LISA 139 
 
 younger folk began to dance. Then I feel- 
 ing utterly weary and thinking how that men 
 would toil and struggle and defraud each 
 other for the sake of obtaining nothing more 
 than this, which must soon pass away and 
 was even now becoming filth and corruption 
 withdrew by myself, and, coming to a little 
 terrace that overhung the garden in the in- 
 ner court, I gazed upon the full moon, which 
 was pouring the reflected light of the sun 
 down upon the earth. 
 
 How long I stood there I know not, but 
 suddenly I heard a step behind me, and, 
 turning, I saw Madonna Lisa. There was a 
 mysterious look in her eyes as she came out 
 into the moonbeams, and with a choking 
 voice she said: 
 
 "You seem sad, Master." 
 
 1 'Yes, Madonna, I am sad and weary. 
 Life is sometimes hard." 
 
 "You will miss me when I am gone and 
 come no more to your studio!" 
 
 "Yes, Madonna, I shall miss you." 
 
 ' ' And you will be glad when I return ? ' ' 
 
 "I shall be very glad." 
 
 After this we said no more for a little 
 space, but listened to the music, which
 
 140 MONNA LISA 
 
 sounded faintly from within. And then her 
 body swayed toward me, but as I in amaze- 
 ment stood motionless, she drew back quickly, 
 trembling. A moment after the hot blood 
 sped outward from my heart I bent toward 
 her, and once more she swayed forward to 
 me, and her lips met mine. . . .
 
 VI 
 
 THE LETTERS 
 
 Leonardo to Lisa. 
 
 ... IN you, my beloved, I have not 
 only found the woman soul that I searched 
 for so long, but I have also found my own 
 soul, which had lain hidden these many years. 
 For drawn by you I have entered that 
 threatening cavern and there I have found 
 the miraculous thing I desired but did not 
 know and even feared love. Love that has 
 raised my soul out of the obscure depths to 
 meet your soul at first half dreaming, half 
 awake, then aroused into full life by the 
 touch of your lips upon mine. The trem- 
 ulous rhythm of your kiss still vibrates 
 within me. That kiss from your lips drew 
 my soul to yours as the smiling warmth of 
 the sun draws the vapors from the sea up 
 into the heavens, there to float, illuminated 
 and adorned with wondrous colors by the 
 
 141
 
 142 MONNA LISA 
 
 same sun. And, moreover, in other days 
 you seem to me like unto the sun, which is 
 the only source of light and heat in the uni- 
 verse, and from which descend all the souls 
 of men, since the warmth in living bodies 
 comes from the soul; so from you, my sun, 
 my warmth, my light, from you has 
 descended into my cold body a new soul 
 the old soul being dead and now I live 
 again with a new life, that with all my 
 studies, all my observations and experi- 
 ments, I had never imagined. And with this 
 new soul I am alive as I have never been be- 
 fore. And this you have done by your 
 kiss. . . . 
 
 Lisa to Leonardo. 
 
 . . . Since I have been here. It is im- 
 possible to tell you, my Leonardo, how I miss 
 you, how I need you. Now all the days are 
 long and tedious. I start up, thinking that 
 it is time for me to sit in front of that dark 
 wall under the curtain, and to have your eyes 
 search deep into my soul, finding there many, 
 many things no one else ever considered 
 worthy to search for or indeed ever dreamed 
 of. ... Your eyes are so different from
 
 LISA 143 
 
 those of other men. It has ever been easy for 
 me to read the eyes of the men I knew, easy 
 to see the desire that flashed up the moment 
 I glanced into them. But as I gazed and 
 gazed into your eyes, my beloved, day after 
 day, I saw in them desire indeed eager, 
 greedy desire but it was not the desire that 
 glitters in other men's eyes desire for the 
 things that pass away in corruption it was 
 a calm, infinite, yes, appalling desire for me, 
 myself, the real me that we are told is 
 eternal. Yes, my Leonardo, it almost ap- 
 palled me at first. As the old Zingara truly 
 said, I was filled with fear of you, because I 
 did not understand your gaze and yet felt 
 its enthralling influence. I thought of tales 
 I had heard of the basilisk, of the evil eye, 
 of the black art, and as I felt your gaze take 
 possession of me, body and soul, I trembled. 
 Often, when I had left your house and was 
 free from the obsession of your eyes, free 
 from their mysterious power, I would re- 
 solve that I would never return, feeling that 
 in the end I should pay a price too great 
 even for a portrait by Leonardo. Yet when 
 Salai would appear with the word that you 
 were ready to paint if I were pleased to
 
 144 MONNA LISA 
 
 come, I would hasten as much as was seemly 
 in order to lose no moment. 
 
 But as time passed I came to know some- 
 what of the meaning of your eyes, and then 
 I began to love them; for as you have told 
 me, love is the child of knowledge. And 
 then I also perceived that you yourself did 
 ncrt understand your own power; for your 
 squl, with its infinite desire that shines so 
 steadily from your deep eyes, is like the 
 artificiosa natura you so love to talk about 
 all creating, all developing, all enfolding, 
 all cherishing, and yet unconscious of its 
 powers and achievements. Men imagine all 
 manner of strange things about you even 
 as I did in the beginning because they do 
 not know you, because they cannot know 
 you; but I, who am now beginning to know 
 you, love you, and the more I shall know 
 you, my beloved, the more I shall love you. 
 But shall I be able to satisfy that infinite de- 
 sire that glows so steadily in your 
 eyes? . . . 
 
 Leonardo to Lisa. 
 
 . . . The lover is moved through the 
 beloved as are the senses by the objects per-
 
 LISA 145 
 
 ceived as the magnet and the steel by each 
 other and they unite and make one single 
 thing. The ... is the first thing which 
 is born of this union. If the beloved is vile 
 the lover makes himself vile. When the 
 being which is united is fitted for that with 
 which it is united, then follows delectation 
 and pleasure and satisfaction. When the 
 lover is joined to his beloved, there he re- 
 poses when the weight is placed in posi- 
 tion, there it reposes. The things known by 
 our intellect . . . 
 
 Lisa to Leonardo. 
 
 . . . Tell me, my wise Leonardo, how 
 I, one poor, little woman, can love you 
 three? ... I love Francesco, not only 
 from duty, because we are united by the holy 
 sacrament, but from inclination, because he 
 has always been so good to me, so indulgent, 
 so patient with my caprices, so tolerant of 
 my wayward thoughts even though he does 
 not comprehend them and always so affec- 
 tionate and true. And then I love Salai, 
 that beautiful youth so full of sunshine, 
 whom you love so well that indeed I need 
 not tell you why I love him. And, last, I
 
 146 MONNA LISA 
 
 love you, you, the mighty Leonardo, 
 why? Simply because a power stronger 
 than I, stronger than you for you too re- 
 sisted long has drawn us together, a 
 power like unto the attraction of the magnet 
 and the steel for each other. You made no 
 effort to win me, nor did I try to win you. 
 But though I made no effort though you 
 never even dreamed of making one yet 
 that power, mysterious no, simple like one 
 of the forces of artificiosa natura, drew us 
 together, till even you, with all your abstract 
 thought and endless study, began to feel it, 
 as I had felt it from the first. When you 
 told me that story of the cavern, I knew it 
 must come, and so ... I began to fear 
 even as you had feared before that dark 
 cavern I, too, was torn by fear and desire. 
 But when Francesco said he wished you to 
 be present that night, I knew it could not 
 be prevented and said to myself, I have done 
 nothing to bring this about it is fate I 
 cannot resist. And when I saw you at 
 table, wearied by the empty talk and the silly 
 laughter, I knew how it would come. And 
 you, my beloved Leonardo, know how it came. 
 Was it you or was it I? It was neither,
 
 LISA 147 
 
 nor was it both. The magnet and the steel 
 do nothing: it is, even as you have told me, 
 the force of nature that brings them together 
 that brought us together. And now 
 . . . perfection . . . 
 
 And yet I sometimes feel that I may be 
 sinning in loving more than one. I fear that 
 this love of ours, with all its beauty and per- 
 fection may yet bring evil to us and to those 
 we love. Will not jealousy arise? and from 
 jealousy, hatred and strife and . . . 
 Are you not a little jealous of Francesco! 
 of Salai? I know that Salai, poor boy, is 
 jealous of Francesco and of you you whom 
 he loves so much because he knows how 
 small he is in comparison with his master. 
 And Francesco, too, would be jealous of you 
 both, if he were not so involved in his com- 
 merce and in the affairs of Florence, that he 
 has but little time to think of his household, 
 of his wife, except when she thrusts herself 
 upon him and then I must perforce say he 
 does all that any woman should expect. Tell 
 me, my wise Leonardo, how am I to divide 
 myself into three Lisas, and yet remain my- 
 self, my true self, the Lisa that loves Leo- 
 nardo f
 
 148 MONNA LISA 
 
 Leonardo to Lisa. 
 
 True love, my beloved, is not like silver 
 and gold or earthly possessions in that what 
 you give to one you must fain keep away 
 from another; but it is like divine knowledge, 
 like celestial wisdom, in that the more of it 
 you give away the more you will have to give 
 and that in fuller measure. If you love 
 truly not with mere earthly desire, but with 
 celestial fervor you will find that the more 
 you love your husband, the more you will be 
 able to love Drea, the more you will be able 
 to love me, the more you will be able to 
 love all mankind: you will love as the Great 
 Prime Mover and Creator must love, with- 
 out limits, without withholding not loving 
 all in the same way, but giving to each what 
 is fitting and necessary to him. I would not 
 have the love you should give Francesco, nor 
 the affection which Drea 's beauty and sweet- 
 ness awakens in your heart, for neither 
 would be adequate to that infinite desire 
 which you so truly say you see in my eyes. 
 One love should not take from another, but 
 each should strengthen, should deepen the 
 other ; even as the stars move in harmony in
 
 LISA 149 
 
 the heavens, so should these loves move in 
 harmony in your soul. 
 
 As for jealousy, such a monstrous thought 
 never entered the mind of Leonardo. There 
 is no insanity so senseless as jealousy, which 
 destroys the very thing it would preserve 
 love. Jealousy arises only when love is 
 imperfect, is limited, and therefore not 
 being able to behold, to comprehend, the in- 
 finity of true love desires to limit the be- 
 loved by its own limitations, its own imper- 
 fections. But the lover who loves with 
 celestial love, which is infinite, knows that 
 he himself is finite, and so may in many ways 
 fail to satisfy all the nature of his beloved. 
 Therefore he rejoices at the love which his 
 beloved lavishes upon another, knowing that, 
 as all powers grow stronger by being em- 
 ployed, the true celestial love which his be- 
 loved gives him will thus become greater and 
 greater, and in truth will have no limit, no 
 end. 
 
 No true lover will place limits upon his 
 beloved, or will make rules to regulate her 
 conduct, to take away her liberty; for where 
 there is liberty there is no rule, no limitation, 
 and only in perfect liberty can the true celes-
 
 150 MONNA LISA 
 
 tial love exist the love of one free soul for 
 another free soul. And this, my beloved, I 
 deem to be the nature of our love, and may 
 our Creator grant that it may never change 
 or be limited by mere earthly desire or hell- 
 ish jealousy. For my part I cannot see 
 how . . . 
 
 Lisa to Leonardo. 
 
 You may remember, my beloved wise man, 
 that I once said to you: "Do not discover, 
 if your liberty is dear to you. My face is 
 the prison of love." Since I have read your 
 letter I have often thought of those words 
 and of what was in my mind when I said 
 them. Some day I shall tell you, when we 
 are close together, and I can look into your 
 eyes, and mayhap if the touch of your lips 
 unlock my heart. Meanwhile, think of them, 
 my wise Leonardo. You may tell me your 
 thought if you choose. . . . 
 
 I feel, as I have always felt that I am not 
 as great as you, that I can never become as 
 great. It is true that jealousy is insanity, 
 it is true that it destroys the very thing it 
 desires to preserve but could I bear to see 
 you love another woman? I do not know.
 
 LISA 151 
 
 Perhaps, under the influence of your celes- 
 tial love, nay, of our celestial love, I may 
 grow as great as you, or so great at least as 
 to be above jealousy, and be able to bless 
 the love of Leonardo for another woman. 
 Perhaps perhaps But now I pray I may 
 be spared that trial. I want no spot on the 
 perfection of our love. . . . 
 
 Leonardo to Lisa. 
 
 [At Rome.] I am, my beloved, very busy 
 inspecting the fortifications of the city, 
 drawing up plans for fortresses and siege 
 works. Not once have I touched brush or 
 pencil ; for the Most High Pontiff could gain 
 the consent of the Signory to my coming 
 only on the condition of my not painting, 
 since they are most desirous that I should 
 finish the battle picture. Thus I am en- 
 gaged entirely on things of utility and not 
 of beauty were it not that I have your face 
 with its subtle smile to dream of, that I have 
 our celestial love to raise me from earth to 
 heaven. For there is very little of heaven 
 here, except in the words of the mass the 
 chanting of which is a veritable mockery, 
 with the Most Holy Father, the vice-gerent
 
 152 MONNA LISA 
 
 on earth of the Prince of Peace, selling his 
 Lord for coin in order to carry on war, to 
 win lands and fortresses, and to slay the 
 bodies of men, whose souls he is supposed 
 to save. "While in place of the simple fish- 
 ermen, clad in poor raiment, who followed 
 our Lord Christ when He was upon earth, 
 you can see only dissolute cardinals and bish- 
 ops, clad in silk and gold and jewels, traf- 
 ficking for place and power with gold and 
 lies, or spending the revenues of Holy 
 Church on debauched women of the town or 
 blasphemous men-at-arms. You recall the 
 story in the Decameron of the converted Jew, 
 who would go to Eome in spite of all that 
 the simple Christian who had converted him 
 could do to prevent it, and how he returned, 
 strengthened in his faith, because the Church 
 of Christ persisted in spite of its ministers. 
 . . . But this does not disturb me, as it 
 did poor Fra Girolamo Savonarola, or as 
 it does Messer Michel Angelo. I only 
 smile as I think of the pride of little men, 
 who, because they seem to rule others deem 
 themselves great and powerful ; when neither 
 prince nor prelate can by all his armies, for- 
 tresses, dungeons, chains, or instruments of
 
 LISA 153 
 
 torture, rule one other single free soul, or 
 take away from him the only true liberty, 
 the liberty of thought. As for me, I have 
 the perfect liberty of our celestial love, and 
 why should the doings of popes or emper- 
 ors, despots or petty seignories trouble 
 me? . . . 
 
 There are many learned men here, and I 
 have had a little pleasure in their company, 
 but not much. As the men of the world from 
 pope to gonfalonier care only for practical 
 results and not for the causes, the laws by 
 which artificiosa natura produces them, so 
 these learned men care more for words, than 
 for the truths that can be expressed by 
 words. They are men of great memory and 
 can quote Plato and Aristotle and Ptolemy 
 and St. Thomas with astonishing volubility 
 and aptness. But the most enlightened of 
 them consider my researches as a waste of 
 valuable time, which might be spent in paint- 
 ing, and the stupid ones are sure that I am 
 dabbling in such false sciences as alchemy or 
 astrology or even the black art and have deal- 
 ings with spirits. Yet, why should I care! 
 I can well afford to smile at their ignorance. 
 No, mayhap they are not so ignorant, for
 
 154 MONNA LISA 
 
 I do have dealings with a spirit, the spirit of 
 our celestial love, which brings you to me 
 even though many leagues away, so that I 
 feel you near me all the waking hours as well 
 as in dreams, and this same spirit, far more 
 powerful than any that foolish folk believe 
 can be raised by necromancy, raises me into 
 the third heaven, where, like Saint Paul, I 
 see and hear things that are unlawful for me 
 to tell. And so, my beloved . . . 
 
 Lisa to Leonardo. 
 
 . . . And I see clearly the truth of what 
 you say, namely, that "you must give full 
 liberty to others if you would possess liberty 
 yourself." It is even as clear and simple 
 as that saying of our Lord Christ: "Do unto 
 others as you would they should do unto 
 you." In truth it is but a single applica- 
 tion of that rule. But, do you know, my 
 wise man, even because it is so simple it is 
 so difficult at least to those who live in this 
 complicated world, where so many conflicting 
 things beset them at once. It is easy for 
 children, because their natures are simple, 
 and I also know it is written, "Unless ye 
 become as one of these little ones ye cannot
 
 LISA 155 
 
 enter into the kingdom of Heaven." But, 
 Leonardo, my beloved, it is so difficult, when 
 you know you have power over another, to 
 refrain from using it if only to discover 
 how great that power may be to make an 
 experiment. You recall how often you have 
 told me that one must make experiments to 
 discover the truth of anything and may not 
 experiments be necessary for me to find out 
 the full extent of my power? . . . 
 
 And I wore a dress of white tdbi brocaded 
 with gold, and closely fitting sleeves of gold 
 brocade; my necklace was of large pearls, 
 my hair was bound in a gold net studded 
 with pearls, my slippers were of white silk 
 embroidered with gold and pearls, and my 
 mantle was of brown velvet trimmed with 
 marten fur. Many ladies as well as cav- 
 aliers gathered about me. . . . And, 
 my beloved wise man, could I help feel- 
 ing and knowing my power? Was it possi- 
 ble to refrain from using it? In truth I 
 will confess I made several experiments. 
 My beloved Leonardo, who adores liberty 
 so much, will not, I know, grudge his Lisa 
 a little liberty to indulge her caprices, to 
 find some amusement in the sighs of Ian-
 
 156 MONNA LISA 
 
 guishing swains. . . . And the Great 
 Captain came to me after the pavane and 
 said that my dancing was more than mortal, 
 since I could surpass Terpsichore herself. 
 . . . Indeed while the festivities contin- 
 ued I enjoyed my little reign of glory; but 
 when, in the early dawn, I laid myself down 
 on my bed, my thoughts flew north to the 
 Umbrian hills, where you are now on your 
 way back to our dear Florence that city 
 where I first really began to live, and where 
 I long to be so that I may live again in your 
 presence. All my liberty, all my triumphs, 
 all this empty or evil admiration, would I 
 gladly give for one hour with you, my Leo- 
 nardo, my beloved, when I could bind my 
 arms about your dear neck like a chain and 
 deprive you as well as myself of that liberty, 
 which is far more grievous than slavery 
 siece we are apart. But it will not be long. 
 In the early spring I shall return and then, 
 my beloved, . . . 
 
 Leonardo to Lisa. 
 
 [Again at Florence.] ... I sit and 
 gaze at your portrait every day. Imperfect 
 as it is, it brings you, my beloved, near me,
 
 LISA 157 
 
 and my memory supplies what the picture 
 lacks. I see your bosom rise and fall, your 
 eyes fill with celestial light, and on your lips 
 hovers your ineffable smile. But I do not 
 take up my brush, fearing to work without 
 the inspiration of your presence ; for I do not 
 wish your portrait to be a product of my 
 imagination, but your very self and noth- 
 ing can be more perfect than that. When 
 you return, the first thing must be to finish 
 your portrait. Then with that completed, I 
 may be able to resume work on the battle 
 picture, for which the Gonfalonier grows 
 more and more impatient. . . . Come, 
 my beloved, come. . . . 
 
 Last night I was singing softly to my lute, 
 and these words from among those I sang 
 have remained in my memory. They are 
 very simple and even crude being but an 
 improvisation but I shall make no effort to 
 improve them, sending them to you even as 
 they came to me : 
 
 My heart it wears a wondrous chain, 
 
 That leads, my love, to thee, 
 And binds me fast in thy dear love, 
 
 Wherever I may be.
 
 158 MONNA LISA 
 
 And, though it be a golden chain, 
 Its links are strong as steel ; 
 
 But I, within it fettered fast, 
 The truest freedom feel. 
 
 For my own soul has forged this chain, 
 Each link a thought of thee, 
 
 And every link is welded firm 
 By thy dear thoughts of me. 
 
 Yet this strange chain is light as air, 
 'Twould vanish with a breath 
 
 Of doubt or fear. Ah ! may it last, 
 And bind us, love, in death.
 
 VII 
 
 AT THE VILLA 
 
 WHEN Madonna Lisa returned from Na- 
 ples, on the first of May, 1506, she did not 
 come home to Florence, but tarried in the 
 Giocondo villa, on the slopes of Vallambrosa, 
 a little beyond Sant' Ellero. There Messer 
 Francesco had met her as she came down 
 from Arezzo, and, as it was unseasonably 
 warm and unhealthy in Florence, and as she, 
 moreover, was somewhat ill and much worn 
 from her journey, he persuaded her to remain 
 in that elevated and salubrious spot until 
 either she should recover her strength, or 
 until the weather in Florence should grow 
 cooler. 
 
 She sent me, however, the following letter 
 by the hand of Messer Francesco, who 
 brought it to me at Fiesole, where I was 
 with my Uncle Ambrogio, studying geometry 
 and the flight of birds, because at that time 
 I could not endure to use the brush : 
 
 159
 
 160 MONNA LISA 
 
 "Beloved Master Leonardo: I hope in a 
 few days to be able to go on to Florence and 
 to see you and my other friends again after 
 this long absence. I charge you to have ev- 
 erything prepared, so that when I shall ar- 
 rive we may be able at once to work on the 
 portrait ; for indeed I have set my heart upon 
 having it finished in time for my husband's 
 birthday. And, moreover, I pray you, for 
 the love you bear me, to send me Salai with 
 your lute, in order that he may cheer up 
 my sad spirit, and comfort me with his 
 music." 
 
 With Salai I sent a brief reply in which 
 I wrote that she must avoid physicians and 
 drugs and damp, and must keep her mind 
 as cheerful and gay as possible, to aid which 
 purpose I was certain no one was so well 
 fitted as Salai who indeed was almost be- 
 side himself with joy at the prospect of see- 
 ing his lady before his master did. . . . 
 I returned to Florence, where I was very 
 lonely, although my house was filled with 
 servants and pupils. I put the little court 
 in order with my own hands, not suffering 
 anyone but myself to touch anything. And, 
 as I brought out the portrait and placed it
 
 LISA 161 
 
 upon the easel, I mused upon what would be 
 her home coming. 
 
 A few days later, Messer Francesco who 
 indeed rode frequently back and forth be- 
 tween the city and his villa came to me and 
 begged that I would go with him to Vallam- 
 brosa and bring Madonna Lisa's picture and 
 my colors; since she had so set her heart 
 upon having the portrait completed that he 
 feared lest her recovery might be retarded 
 if her wish were not granted. He said, 
 moreover, that, being exceedingly desirous, 
 she had already caused laborers to go to 
 work upon a small court in the villa, in order 
 that it might be as nearly as possible like 
 unto the one in my house. He knew this wasi 
 a great thing to ask, seeing that I had refused 
 a similar favor to the Marchioness of Man- 
 tua, but he entreated me by the love I bore 
 him and Madonna Lisa to grant his prayer. 
 
 He was much surprised when I agreed to 
 go as soon as I could make the necessary 
 preparations. But I told him that it was one 
 thing to refuse a great lady, who merely 
 wished to possess a picture by Leonardo 
 Vincio, and another to deny a sick woman 
 the gratification of a harmless desire.
 
 162 MONNA LISA 
 
 I got all things ready as rapidly as was 
 possible, wondering meanwhile how my lady 
 would appear after her long absence, and 
 whether her illness had changed her in any 
 marked degree, but resolved at all events to 
 bring the portrait speedily to what might be 
 called completion in order that her desire 
 should be fulfilled. 
 
 On the morrow, shortly after midday, I 
 started with Messer Francesco, he having 
 sent forward the night before a servant with 
 the news of our coming, and in due time we 
 arrived at the villa. My lady accompanied 
 by Salai was at the gate to greet us, for she 
 had seen us afar off as we were coming up 
 the mountain. She was somewhat thinner, 
 and her face was for the most part very 
 pale, but there was a bright flush upon her 
 cheeks, and, moreover, her eyes seemed ex- 
 ceedingly large and bright. When I alighted 
 from my horse she extended her hand, and, 
 as I took it to raise it to my lips, she pressed 
 her fingers lightly upon mine. Then she 
 said smiling: 
 
 "Welcome, Master Leonardo. I thank 
 you much for coming with such speed. 
 Francesco," she continued, turning to her
 
 LISA 163 
 
 husband, * * I am feeling much better in health 
 to-day. This fresh air of the mountains and 
 Salai's music have already done much for my 
 spirits. And now, with the Master to finish 
 my portrait and to amuse me with his stories, 
 it will not be long before I shall be fully re- 
 covered." Then turning to me she said, 
 "Though Salai and I have urged on the 
 workmen with all our power to-day, the 
 court is not yet ready. But happily this is 
 not so great a misfortune, as you will now 
 be able to superintend the work yourself, and 
 have it finished to your mind." 
 
 After going to look at the court, on which 
 indeed much progress had been made, and 
 charging the workmen to return the next day 
 at an early hour, as the sun was now near its 
 setting, we went in to dinner. 
 
 During and after the meal my lady was so 
 light hearted and gay that Master Francesco 
 laughed and said: 
 
 "Is it not true, Master Leonardo, that the 
 only thing needed to restore an ailing woman 
 to health is to give her her will, and that the 
 sure way to kill her is to deny it unto her?" 
 
 To this I assented, seeing that my lady 
 did not seem to take it amiss, but added:
 
 164 MONNA LISA 
 
 "Yet in the case of Madonna Lisa, there is 
 a great difference, inasmuch as she wills only 
 good and profitable things, while for the 
 greater part of womankind, their wills are 
 perverse, and to indulge them often leads to 
 their bane and even destruction." 
 
 "You speak truly," said Master Fran- 
 cesco, "for you must always make an excep- 
 tion in the case of Lisa. She is indeed wise 
 beyond the nature of womankind." 
 
 "Certainly," I added, "she is not to be 
 compared with other women." And looking 
 at my lady I saw that she understood. 
 
 She amused us, moreover, with descrip- 
 tions of the stately Spanish grandees, who 
 now rule in Naples, and of the severe and 
 solemn manners and customs that prevail 
 among them and how they appear when 
 compared with the gay and frivolous Neapol- 
 itans. Many comic anecdotes she also told 
 us concerning the people she had met, which 
 caused Messer Francesco and me to laugh 
 until the tears came into our eyes. And I 
 remember that one of her stories was as fol- 
 lows: 
 
 "A fair lady desired a certain Spanish cav- 
 alier to dance with her, and, on his refusal,
 
 LISA 165 
 
 offered him music and other entertainments ; 
 but he proudly declared that such trifles were 
 not his profession. At last she asked him: 
 'What is then your profession, Signore?' 
 With a frown he replied, 'To fight.' Then 
 said the lady: 'Seeing that you are not now 
 in war, nor in any place to fight, I marvel 
 that you do not have yourself and your har- 
 ness greased and hung up with other imple- 
 ments of war in an armory, lest you should 
 become even more rusty than you are 
 now.' " 
 
 My lady then made me tell of the state of 
 affairs in Rome and of the manner in which 
 the Church is now managed, and much did 
 Messer Francesco laugh especially when I 
 told them how a witty Eoman said, that 
 Venus had reigned in the City of Saint Peter 
 with the Borgia, and now Mars ruled with 
 the Eovere, and the good Lord only knew 
 what pagan deity would come to rule them 
 when Julius passed away. 
 
 All the time, however, I noticed that Salai, 
 who stood near my lady, remained with a 
 woe-begone countenance. This made me re- 
 solve to call him to account for his melan- 
 choly, since this was by no means fitting for
 
 166 MONNA LISA 
 
 one who had been sent to cheer and comfort 
 the failing spirits of my lady. 
 
 After she had retired to rest, Messer Fran- 
 cesco talked long with me about the threat- 
 ening state of affairs in Italy, which was 
 much exercising the minds of the Signory 
 and of the Gonfalonier. There were not only 
 rumors, but even strong proofs of an agree- 
 ment between the Catholic King, the Most 
 Christian King, the Eoman Emperor, and the 
 Most High Pontiff to despoil Venice. If 
 this were true Florence would be obliged to 
 join in the league. And though he could not 
 lament any misfortunes that might befall 
 greedy and grasping Venice, he feared that 
 in the future Florence might suffer the same 
 fate. "It was an evil day for Italy," he 
 said, "when Duke Ludovico called in the 
 barbarians ; and though it had been by their 
 assistance that we regained our liberty, yet 
 our riches, and the beauty and the glory of 
 our city were so great, and the . . ."
 
 vm 
 
 IN THE LOGGIA 
 
 DUEING the last day I superintended the 
 workmen in the preparation of the court, 
 while my lady sat by with Messer Francesco, 
 and in the pauses of the work made us merry 
 with her lively stories and witty sayings. 
 About the middle of the afternoon there came 
 a messenger from the Gonfalonier requiring 
 the immediate presence of Messer Francesco. 
 He was soon ready to set forth, and, as he 
 mounted his horse, said to my lady, who 
 stood near by: 
 
 "I cannot say when I shall be able to re- 
 turn, but, with Salai to play the lute and to 
 sing for you, with Master Leonardo to paint 
 your portrait and to amuse you with his 
 merry tales, and, above all, with your hus- 
 band absent in Florence, your complete re- 
 covery should be sure and speedy. I shall 
 expect to see another Lisa when I return. ' ' 
 
 167
 
 168 MONNA LISA 
 
 "In truth yon will," she replied, answer- 
 ing his laugh with a merry smile. 
 
 "And I shall endeavor with all my power 
 to keep Madonna from grieving over your 
 absence," I added, joining in his laughter. 
 Salai, however, did not laugh, and his brow 
 grew darker than before. 
 
 So Messer Francesco rode away, and we 
 returned to the house. But with his depar- 
 ture the lightsome spirit that had ruled us 
 all day departed also. My lady spoke rarely, 
 and then quietly and with but few words. 
 And, after watching the progress of the work 
 in the court for a while, she retired to her 
 own room, saying that she sorely needed rest 
 as she had slept but little the preceding night. 
 I then urged on the work bravely, so that 
 everything was finished before it was time 
 for the laborers to depart. For I felt that if 
 the painting were not resumed the following 
 day my lady's melancholy would surely re- 
 turn. There was something in the expres- 
 sion of her eyes that I did not understand 
 at that time, but I considered that her illness 
 was likely to return with added force because 
 of her unwonted gayety since my arrival. 
 
 But when she appeared at the evening
 
 LISA 169 
 
 meal, her eyes were once more glowing, and 
 her spirits were merrier than before. She 
 talked almost incessantly, flitting from one 
 thing to another, only occasionally desiring 
 me to speak. When the platters were re- 
 moved she called upon Salai to sing for her, 
 and to sing only my songs. He indeed com- 
 plied, but sang so badly that she soon sent 
 him away, and when he had gone she asked 
 me to take the lute, and said : 
 
 "My Leonardo, I know that you do not 
 wish to sing; but, ever since you sent me 
 those verses about the chain, I have longed 
 to hear the melody to which you sang them, 
 so that when I am alone I may be able to 
 sing them to myself. You will not refuse me 
 this little favor, my Leonardo?" 
 
 "I can refuse nothing to my Lisa," I an- 
 swered. Then taking the lute I tuned it to 
 the proper mode and sang the verses very 
 softly so that there should be no harsh 
 tones. 
 
 When I had ended she asked me to repeat 
 it, and as I sang she sang with me, for she 
 knew the words, and truly it was very beauti- 
 ful. 
 
 It was now evening, and, saying that it was
 
 170 MONNA LISA 
 
 stifling within, she led me by the hand out 
 into the loggia, which commanded a view of 
 the country beneath us extending down the 
 valley of Arno towards Florence, a view that 
 lost itself in subtle lights and shadows, for 
 the moon, now in its first quarter, was slowly 
 sinking toward the western hills. 
 
 We sat side by side on a great stone bench, 
 and for a time silently gazed upon the land- 
 scape, my lady still holding my hand. I felt 
 that some strange power choked my utter- 
 ance, and mayhap the same thing was true of 
 her. At length she turned to me and spoke : 
 
 "Leonardo, my love, when I was far away 
 from you in Naples, I longed for nothing so 
 much as to be with you, to tell you many 
 things that troubled my mind but of which I 
 could not write, and to hear your dear voice 
 in your wise replies. But now that we are 
 together alone I desire only silence. I de- 
 sire only to feel you near me. Yet if 
 you " 
 
 "No, my Lisa, the hour is not for words. 
 I also desire silence and your presence. ' ' 
 
 So we spoke no more, and, not daring to 
 look into each other's eyes, we gazed down 
 into the valley or into the heavens with the
 
 LISA 171 
 
 sinking moon and the few large stars. From 
 time to time my lady pressed my hand trem- 
 ulously and my fingers closed upon hers. 
 Truly there was no need for speech in that 
 holy hour. 
 
 The moon sank lower and lower. At last 
 it was hidden behind the crest of a distant 
 hill, while the sky above it glowed with a 
 golden light, and two little specks of clouds 
 glittered for a space like silver stars. Then 
 the golden light faded away; it grew very 
 dark. I felt the clasp of my lady's hand 
 tighten, and her other hand stole softly to my 
 neck. I drew her closer till I felt her warm 
 breath upon my face and her trembling lips 
 laid softly upon mine, drawing my very soul 
 into her own. 
 
 How long we remained thus I know not, 
 but suddenly it seemed as though I were 
 wrapped in a consuming flame. I clasped 
 her closely to my breast, my lips pressed 
 hard on hers, and I felt her heart beating 
 fast against mine. Then I strove to draw 
 her still closer. For a moment she yielded. 
 But suddenly she became rigid; then shiv- 
 ered away from out my arms. I could see 
 her shadowy figure in the dim starlight stand-
 
 172 MONNA LISA 
 
 ing before me, her hands pressed upon her 
 breast. 
 
 "You! Leonardo! you!" she cried in 
 horror. 
 
 "I thought you called me," I stam- 
 mered. But made no movement, for I was 
 as though I had seen the head of Medusa. 
 
 "Oh!" she moaned, and then fled swiftly 
 within.
 
 IX 
 
 DABKNESS AND FLIGHT 
 
 APTEB my lady had left me, I sat for a 
 time motionless. That thing, against which 
 I had guarded myself for years, had hap- 
 pened. The flesh had for an instant over- 
 powered the spirit, and had gained its brief 
 supremacy in a moment of the loftiest exal- 
 tation so lofty that all restraint had been 
 forgotten. True is the saying, "Let him 
 who thinketh he standeth take heed lest he 
 fall." At first there was anger in my heart 
 because, after having tempted me by her 
 caresses, she had so suddenly repulsed me. 
 But then, as I sat there in the darkness, and 
 the night breeze cooled my face, I was thank- 
 ful that my lady had been able to save her- 
 self even at the last moment. For our love 
 was a love of the spirit, and to submerge it 
 beneath the flood of animal passion would 
 destroy it forever or make it like the common 
 loves of common men, only fit to abide in 
 
 173
 
 174 MONNA LISA 
 
 mud and filth. The love of woman when it is 
 an inspiration raises you to the highest 
 heaven, but when its end is only self gratifi- 
 cation it sinks you to the lowest hell. Un- 
 less you restrain your passions you are like 
 the beasts, for then you have laid aside your 
 reason which is all that distinguishes you 
 from them. 
 
 When I had regained control of myself, I 
 considered what might be the best thing to 
 do. I feared to meet my lady, lest one look 
 from her eyes, one touch from her hand 
 should bring me grovelling to her feet like 
 the foolish lovers I had always held in con- 
 tempt. Or mayhap I might draw her again 
 to me, and she be unable to save herself a 
 second time. It seemed best to me on this 
 account, that I should leave that place and 
 remain away from my lady until we were 
 both so certain of ourselves that nothing un- 
 premeditated could befall us. For that 
 which you do after calm deliberation is your 
 own act, the act of your true self, of your 
 true spirit, because it is the result of reason ; 
 but that which is done from sudden passion 
 is but the act of your body, and, as your 
 spirit has created the body for its instru-
 
 LISA 175 
 
 ment, it is not meet that the instrument 
 should rule its maker. 
 
 Therefore I went into the house, and hav- 
 ing awakened Salai, bade him saddle my 
 horse. At the gate I charged him to tell my 
 lady that I had returned to Florence and 
 from there would write unto her. 
 
 And as I rode onward with slackened rein, 
 letting my horse find his own way through 
 the darkness, my mind continued to meditate 
 upon what had befallen. Though at first my 
 heart again grew hot with anger toward my 
 lady because she had tempted me by her 
 caresses, yet soon the flush of rage once more 
 passed away, and, in its place, came a cold 
 and bitter contempt of my own self, in that 
 I, who had deemed myself as it were a pilot 
 to guide her awakening soul into the calm 
 havens of the intellect and into the celestial 
 regions of the spirit, had foolishly and 
 blindly permitted myself to drift with her, 
 enveloped in the rosy mist of her bodily 
 sweetness, until shipwreck had befallen both 
 of us and our celestial love, now likely to 
 drown in the bitter waters of ... 
 
 Was it true then that the love of the soul 
 was not to be achieved by mortal men and
 
 176 MONNA LISA 
 
 women, and that the celestial heights were 
 not to be attained by beings held down to 
 earth through their animal bodies and suf- 
 focated by the seething passions that arise 
 therefrom? Was it true that there was no 
 woman soul, or, if there were, that it could 
 not be revealed to man because of fleshly 
 barriers? Was celestial love but an empty 
 dream of philosophers, poets, and fools? 
 And as these thoughts pursued each other 
 through the tangled forest of my mind, I be- 
 came almost beside myself with doubt and 
 despair. 
 
 But as I drew near the city, and the dawn 
 stole down the valley, the light of reason be- 
 gan to dawn once more within my soul, and 
 I remembered that I worshipped the wonder- 
 ful justice of the great Prime Mover, because 
 He does not wish that any force or potency 
 should fail in the order and quality of its 
 natural effects, whether they be good or evil. 
 Therefore it was irrational for me to con- 
 tinue being angry with my lady or even with 
 myself; since, of a truth, our souls, being in 
 the image of our Creator and therefore free, 
 were able to choose that this, which had be- 
 fallen us, should be the means of raising us
 
 LISA 177 
 
 to still loftier heights as well as of sinking us 
 to darker depths. 
 
 Then a great calm came over me, and, with 
 the first ray of the sunrise that flashed upon 
 the city, it seemed as though my lady smiled 
 on me. 
 
 When I reached my house I took pen and 
 paper and wrote : 
 
 "Had I not been Leonardo, or had I been 
 younger by twenty years, I might have re- 
 mained with you ; but as I am Leonardo, and 
 have seen more than fifty winters, I have 
 gone away. I have done this because of the 
 great love I bear you, and I know you will 
 understand." 
 
 This I sent immediately by Tommaso, 
 charging him to deliver it into the hands of 
 no one but my lady.
 
 A SPIRIT IN PRISON 
 
 TOMMASO returned that same day, bringing 
 with him the portrait and the following let- 
 ter: 
 
 "When I had left you, my beloved, I went 
 to my room, but was not able to sleep. I 
 tossed about feverishly, crying to myself, 
 'Leonardo, Leonardo, you with your celestial 
 spirit and your face like a god, you are the 
 one thing in the world that I need, and yet 
 I who have lived my highest life through 
 you have repulsed you! And I seemed 
 utterly low and vile in my eyes, unworthy 
 that you, with your celestial spirit and god- 
 like eyes, should deign to look upon me. 
 Then the image of Francesco, to whom I am 
 bound in duty and by a blessed sacrament, 
 rose before me, and made me seem still more 
 vile. But again in my wicked heart would 
 arise the longing for you, with your face like 
 a god, and again I would cry : 'Leonardo, my 
 
 178
 
 LISA 179 
 
 own Leonardo, my Lion, what have I done to 
 you! I who love you beyond earth and 
 heaven!' At length, unable to bear the tor- 
 ment longer, I arose and wandered about the 
 house like a distracted spirit, fit for neither 
 heaven nor hell. As I passed your room I 
 looked within, the door being open, and saw 
 you were not there. I entered why, I know 
 not and went to the open window. I heard 
 voices below at the gate. I recognized your 
 dear voice and that of Salai. I leaned out try- 
 ing to distinguish what you were saying, for 
 a sudden chill swept over me and a strange 
 fear. Then I heard the clatter of horse 
 hoofs, and I knew you were gone. In my 
 despair I cried aloud, 'Leonardo, Leonardo, 
 do not leave me!' You did not hear, but 
 Salai heard 
 
 "Beloved, beloved Leonardo, I had written 
 thus far when Tommaso arrived with your 
 brief message. I know the great love you 
 bear me would I were worthy of it I and I 
 also understand why you went away, and 
 why you wrote as you have written. I have 
 kissed the dear words over and over again, 
 and my tears have almost blotted them out. 
 But was it for the best? God knows. I can
 
 180 MONNA LISA 
 
 only weep. Shall we ever again be to each 
 other what we have been in the time that is 
 past so long past that it seems centuries 
 ago? Can we ever ? I cannot tell. For, 
 after you, my beloved, my protector, had 
 gone away, something befell me something 
 unspeakable and I am no more the same 
 Lisa the Lisa that you loved. I cannot 
 write it. No, no, no ! Mayhap some time 
 if we see each other again, and I am sure that 
 you still love me, I may be able to tell you, 
 and you to understand you, who under- 
 stand everything except a woman. You 
 with the face of a god 
 
 "But I must write no more, or I shall go 
 mad. My brain seems whirling around like 
 the lost souls in the Inferno those souls 
 who died for love do you recall them, Leo- 
 nardo, my Leonardo? 
 
 "I send back the portrait by Tommaso 
 that fatal portrait! for I know that now 
 you cannot return here, and even if you 
 could return, you would not find the same 
 Lisa you have been painting so long. May- 
 hap some day I may by your help be myself 
 again, and then May God forgive me now, 
 and may He bless you, my beloved, forever
 
 LISA 181 
 
 and ever, and never let you lose your love for 
 your Lisa." 
 
 When I had read this I pondered long, if 
 perchance I might discover what thing could 
 have befallen my lady that had so affected 
 her. But nothing I could then imagine 
 seemed sufficient to work so great a change 
 as this distracted letter showed, though in- 
 deed later it became clear to me. Then tak- 
 ing heart I wrote again, hoping that by some 
 chance the letter might bring a little com- 
 fort: 
 
 "Beloved lady, do not grieve. The love 
 of my spirit for your spirit is unchanged. 
 It can never grow less, it can only grow 
 more and more, as the flower unfolds in its 
 beauty and perfection. Nothing earthly can 
 blight it, since it is of the spirit, and, you 
 remember, the spirit is placed above the 
 heavens. Fear not for the future, nor fear 
 anything from Leonardo's love. I have 
 never sought, and shall never seek to draw 
 you to me, nor would I even take you were 
 you swept to me by a sudden flood of pas- 
 sion. No, my beloved lady, I would not take 
 you, unless you came to me freely, joyfully,
 
 182 MONNA LISA 
 
 deliberately, even as a loving bride goes to 
 her beloved spouse. And that since you 
 feel yourself bound to your Francesco, and 
 since you love him as you do is impossible. 
 So rest assured, my beloved lady, in the per- 
 fection and unchangeableness of my love, 
 which is of the spirit, and which demands 
 nothing, but is content and blissful with 
 whatever love and favor you can give with 
 perfect freedom and without injuring or 
 even troubling your heavenly soul. 
 
 "YouR LEONARDO." 
 
 Tommaso took the letter the next morn- 
 ing and returned with this reply: 
 
 "My beloved and wise Leonardo, it may 
 be that you are right. It is my steadfast 
 hope that you are right, and that the future 
 will prove it; and that, mayhap, some day 
 I may come to you as you desire, 'freely, 
 joyfully, deliberately, even as a loving bride 
 goes to her beloved spouse.' For I know 
 that in no other way would you be content. 
 You, who, being of the gods, love freedom 
 above all things, could not love a slave a 
 slave of passion, even though it were a pas-
 
 LISA 183 
 
 sion inspired by you. Can I, a poor, weak 
 woman, become one of the gods like you? 
 I know you think it possible. Oh! that you 
 may be right. But, whatever may have be- 
 fallen or may befall, be sure of this, that your 
 Lisa loves you as much if not even more 
 than you love 
 
 "YouB LISA. 
 
 "Francesco came after I had written the 
 above. He knew of your return to Florence, 
 and laughingly said that nothing more could 
 be expected of such a fickle man as you, who 
 never was able to hold to one thing long 
 enough to make good gain from it. I did not 
 contradict him, for I know that the very 
 limitlessness of my Leonardo's mind makes 
 it incomprehensible to other men. And, as 
 he seemed content with his own idea, I let 
 him think I agreed with him. 
 
 "I shall give this letter secretly to Tom- 
 maso, who loves you well; but do not write 
 to me again until I send you word probably 
 by Salai. I cannot trust my own servants, 
 and am not so sure of Salai now. But do 
 not forget I love you. I love you with all my 
 body, soul, and spirit and I kiss your feet.'*
 
 XI 
 
 \ 
 
 THE DAGGEB 
 
 I WAITED anxiously for several days, but 
 Salai did not appear. I imagined, there- 
 fore, that Messer Francesco was somewhat 
 suspicious on account of my sudden depar- 
 ture, and that my lady, notwithstanding what 
 he had said, feared to give him any cause of 
 offence. 
 
 At length, one morning when I awoke, I 
 found a letter lying on my pillow with my 
 name written upon it in the hand of Salai 
 and within it another from my lady. I read 
 the latter first, and this was its content. 
 
 "To-morrow I go to Florence for I can no 
 longer remain here. As soon as I am able 
 to see you, I will send you word. Then, I 
 pray you, come at once." 
 
 The brevity of the letter and her not put- 
 ting her own name or mine upon it, recalled 
 to my mind what she had written concerning 
 Salai. I then read his letter, which was as 
 follows : 
 
 184
 
 LISA 185 
 
 " Beloved Master, do not think me ungrate- 
 ful because I go away without asking your 
 permission or bidding you farewell. But I 
 cannot bear to see you now, or to endure 
 your searching eyes. Perhaps at some 
 future time I may be able to return once 
 more in the same spirit in which I have lived 
 so long with you your creature grateful 
 to you because you have made me what I am, 
 and loving you because of your goodness 
 and greatness. But now it is your very 
 goodness and greatness that drive me away 
 from you, since it is because of them you 
 have won the heart and soul of the lady I 
 worship. I know that she cares somewhat 
 for me, but that is because I can sing your 
 songs and can talk to her of you, and so 
 bring you near to her. For, when we were 
 together, she would talk of nothing else but 
 you, and if I spoke of myself or of other 
 things, her mind would wander and she was 
 not content. I know what you have said 
 about jealousy, I know that it is an insane 
 passion; but still I have fallen a 'victim to 
 that madness, and I can no longer endure 
 to hear your name mentioned, especially by 
 our lady, who loves you more than anyone
 
 186 MONNA LISA 
 
 in the world. And yet she has favored me 
 much not on my account, but on yours 
 and therein lies the part of my suffering that 
 is most cruel to know that this does not 
 belong to me, but to another to you, you, 
 whom she loves so madly, that I fear she may 
 not live unless she can soon behold you 
 again. She is indeed very ill a strange 
 fever and no one here knows what to do. 
 So Messer Francesco will take her early to- 
 morrow morning to Florence. She gave me 
 the letter I have enclosed in this, and made 
 me swear solemnly that I would deliver it to 
 no one but you. And this I shall do, for I 
 cannot disobey my lady. But I cannot bear 
 to speak with you, or to have your search- 
 ing eyes behold the secret of my heart, so 
 when you read this I shall be on my way to 
 my people in Milan. Yet, beloved Master, 
 believe me, I have not forgotten one of the 
 many benefits you have heaped upon me, and 
 for which I have repaid you badly so often. 
 I love you, and I love my lady, but I can- 
 not endure to see you two again together. 
 And therefore : Addio. 
 
 Your creature, 
 
 "ANDREA SALAI."
 
 LISA 187 
 
 With my heart filled with pity for the 
 youth and yet consumed with anxiety for my 
 lady, I waited in my house all day, hoping 
 that some message might come from her ; but 
 I did not go out to meet her, because of her 
 letter, which made me dread anything that 
 mayhap might bring trouble to her. 
 
 Shortly before sunset Messer Francesco 
 came, and, thinking that he might bear a mes- 
 sage from my lady, I went to meet him with 
 a joyful face, holding out my hand. But, he, 
 refusing it with scorn, burst forth in anger, 
 bestowing upon me every name of contempt 
 and loathing possible. This I bore with 
 patience, waiting to learn the cause of his 
 rage; but when he went on to join my lady's 
 name to mine, together with such blasphemy 
 that I will not write, I sternly ordered him 
 to cease. Then he sprang at me with his 
 dagger ; but I, grasping his hand, twisted the 
 weapon from his clasp, and, breaking the 
 blade thereof between my fingers, handed 
 him the fragments and bade him go. So he 
 departed.
 
 XII 
 
 FRANCESCO'S STORY 
 
 AFTER Messer Francesco had been gone a 
 little while, I girded on my sword and walked 
 forth. I crossed the Piazza of Santa Maria, 
 and, turning into the Via dell' Amore, I kept 
 on my way past the house of the Giocondi 
 to San Lorenzo, and so on by way of the 
 Via del Martelli to the Batisterio. Finding 
 there some persons with whom I was ac- 
 quainted, I spent a little time in conversa- 
 tion, and then, when darkness was falling, 
 I departed homewards, again passing by the 
 house where my lady lay. No one molested 
 me either going or coming. Only when I 
 was in the Via dei Gigli I thought I heard 
 rapid footsteps behind me, and, turning sud- 
 denly, was certain that I saw a man dart 
 into a dark doorway. It may have been 
 Messer Francesco, or someone sent to waylay 
 me, and again, this man's movements may 
 have had nothing to do with me. 
 
 188
 
 LISA 189 
 
 When I reached my house I ordered the 
 servants to admit no one without first com- 
 ing to me; and after supper I tossed about 
 on my bed, but could not sleep, because of 
 thinking of my lady and of what might be 
 her condition in this strange turn of affairs. 
 I knew I could do nothing that night which 
 might not be turned to her injury, but I re- 
 solved that on the morrow I would find some 
 means of meeting Messer Francesco when 
 the first transports of his rage should have 
 subsided, and he would be able to listen to 
 a rational statement of the matter, and could 
 be made to see that his charges against my 
 lady were without foundation. I did not 
 meditate much upon this matter which only 
 concerned me and Messer Francesco, because 
 my mind was occupied with thoughts of my 
 lady and of her sad state. 
 
 About midnight there was a loud knock- 
 ing at my door, and Tommaso coming to me 
 said that Messer Francesco was without, and 
 wished to see me immediately. I thereupon 
 asked if he had any people with him, and, 
 upon Tommaso 's replying that he was alone, 
 I ordered him to be admitted. 
 
 When Messer Francesco entered he came
 
 190 MONNA LISA 
 
 toward me, holding out his hand and saying 
 in a humble tone : 
 
 " Master Leonardo, I come first to ask 
 your forgiveness for the wrong I have done 
 you, and this I am sure you will grant when 
 you have heard fully what I have come to 
 say." 
 
 I pressed his hand warmly, for I saw that 
 the man was oppressed by a heavy sorrow, 
 and asked him to proceed. 
 
 "Master Leonardo," he said, and as he 
 went on his words were often interrupted 
 by sobs and groans, "to-day I brought my 
 wife to the city, for her sickness had in- 
 creased greatly since your departure, and be- 
 cause we both believed she could have better 
 care here than in the country. But, in spite 
 of all I could do to make the journey easy, 
 she was so overcome by fatigue that on en- 
 tering the house she straightway fainted. 
 As her women were unlacing her, a little 
 packet of letters fell from her bosom, which 
 I having picked up saw were in your hand 
 and so hid them in my doublet. As soon as 
 she was laid in her bed and the physician 
 had arrived, I, driven by suspicion, retired 
 to my room to examine them. I read the
 
 LISA 191 
 
 first letter, from which, as you well know, 
 I learned that you two loved and had kissed 
 each other. I could read no further, but 
 blinded with rage I straightway rushed 
 hither, thinking of nothing but to slay you. 
 When I departed from you, being defeated 
 by your marvellous strength and magnanim- 
 ity, I raged all the more, and hastening 
 home, determined to charge Lisa with dis- 
 honoring me. I found her still unconscious, 
 and the physician fearing that she would 
 pass away. At last, late in the evening, 
 when she recovered from her swoon, the first 
 thing she did was to feel for her letters, and, 
 finding they were gone, she turned to me and 
 asked if I had them. In reply I told her 
 briefly what I had done, smothering as well 
 as I was able my rage which was still hot, 
 and adding that I would not rest until I had 
 compassed your death. With a sad smile 
 she bade me read them all and then to re- 
 turn to her. This I did, and, Master Leo- 
 nardo, you who wrote these letters know well 
 that though they tell of the great love you 
 bear my Lisa, and of the great love she has 
 for you, yet there is nothing in them that 
 could in any way dishonor the house of the
 
 192 MONNA LISA 
 
 Giocondi, but that, on the contrary, these 
 very letters are a faithful witness that you 
 have protected my honor against your own 
 self. And so, filled with shame and remorse, 
 I returned to Lisa's bedside and craved for- 
 giveness, which she, in the goodness of her 
 heart, granted forthwith. Then I asked if 
 there was anything I could do to make 
 amends to her and to you for the wrong I 
 had done. And she replied that first she 
 wished me to give you your letters behold! 
 here they are! and then that she desired 
 above all things to see you again, and that 
 we three should be once more united in 
 friendship before she should pass away. 
 And you will come, Master, for I fear she 
 lies at the point of death. . . ."
 
 XIII 
 
 THE BIRTH OF A SOUL 
 
 . . . WHEN Francesco had left us, my 
 lady said to her nurse: "Go into the next 
 room Maria, Master Leonardo will watch by 
 me and will call you if there is need." And 
 when we were alone she turned to me and 
 said: "Leonardo, my beloved, come near to 
 me and take my hand. Before Francesco re- 
 turns with the priest I must make a confes- 
 sion to you, so that you also may forgive me 
 and grant me absolution." 
 
 "It is not necessary, my lady," I replied, 
 ' ' There is nothing you can have done or that 
 could have befallen you that is able to change 
 my love. I love you, carissima mia, and 
 shall ever love you. I can say no more." 
 
 "But still I must tell you, for I desire you 
 to love me, knowing me all in all. I do not 
 desire you to love a creature of your own 
 imagination, but to love me myself just 
 as I am Lisa. And so listen, my beloved. 
 
 193
 
 194 MONNA LISA 
 
 Even before the time I first saw you in Santa 
 Maria I loved you for your works, for your 
 fame. When I saw you standing by the 
 church door you were to me a revelation 
 with your face like a god; and all that Salai 
 told me concerning you made me love you 
 more. And when I came to your studio the 
 love grew stronger each day as I began to 
 have more knowledge of you. But with all 
 this ever growing love there was a fear 
 just as the old Zingara said a fear of you 
 because you are so great, a fear lest if you 
 should come to know me as I knew your 
 great open soul, you would think little of me 
 and cast me aside." 
 
 "Lisa," I interrupted, "that is impos- 
 sible." 
 
 ' ' I know it now you are right but I did 
 not know it then. The fear was there, 
 gnawing at my heart and often making me 
 refrain from words that I was longing to 
 utter. And out of this fear grew a desire, 
 a desire to gain power over you, you, the 
 mighty Leonardo, and so hold you bound to 
 me as I hold Francesco and could hold many 
 others that I know. And there was within 
 me a conflict you recall the Cavern on Mon-
 
 LISA 195 
 
 gibello, beloved, on the one hand fear of 
 what might befall and on the other an ever 
 growing longing to throw myself into your 
 arms and give myself all in all to you, re- 
 gardless of whether I should find heaven or 
 hell. Now, let me rest a little space, my be- 
 loved, my strength is going, and I must tell 
 you all." 
 
 I pressed her hand and sat silent waiting, 
 while my lady closed her eyes and rested, 
 breathing quietly. Then, after a time, her 
 eyes opened again, and looking at me stead- 
 fastly she continued: ''You remember, my 
 beloved, that night in this house when I came 
 to you. Your calm self restraint at the last 
 sitting had been to my longing as oil to fire. 
 I knew that I could never conquer you, and 
 that my highest glory would be to give my- 
 self to you. You remember how I came. 
 As I bent toward you I thought you drew 
 back, and a chill flood of fear overwhelmed 
 me. Then God be praised! you, too, 
 leaned toward me, and your lips met mine. 
 That was the one perfect moment in my life. 
 Now wait. 
 
 "0 my beloved," she said after a space, 
 ''when I came up to our villa and knew you
 
 196 MONNA LISA 
 
 were in Florence, I could not live without 
 you after our long separation. I wanted 
 you just you to be near me and to gladden 
 me with the light of your eyes and the music 
 of your voice. I had no fear; for was not 
 Francesco there? and you remember how 
 happy I was. But when Francesco departed, 
 once more the fear returned. You were so 
 great and I so little. And that night in 
 the loggia as the moon went down I who 
 had been so happy, sitting there beside you, 
 holding your hand even as now, our spirits 
 communing in the silence I, the little, fear- 
 ful Lisa, was seized with a sudden desire 
 the desire to know if you were a man like 
 other men the desire to sway you as I had 
 swayed others and when I found that you 
 were indeed a man the only man who could 
 move me to the innermost depths for a 
 moment yes, for a moment the bliss was 
 so great that I cared not for God or Satan 
 only you only you, my beloved. Then 
 suddenly, in the midst of the ecstasy, the old 
 fear seized me and I fled I, who had 
 called you yes, my beloved, you were right 
 I had called you and I I fled from 
 heaven to hell knowing only too well that
 
 LISA 197 
 
 you alone could save me. When I called 
 from the window, you, you did not hear but 
 Salai heard. Now, wait a moment more I 
 must tell you what then befell and yet, it is 
 very hard " 
 
 "My Lisa, my beloved, there is no need 
 that you should tell me. I know what be- 
 fell, and" 
 
 "Has Salai told you?" she cried anxiously, 
 half raising herself. 
 
 "No, my beloved," I replied as I made her 
 lie down again. "I have not seen him since 
 that night. But from your letters " 
 
 "You know it! and you do not love me 
 less? Leonardo!" 
 
 "I know it! And I should love you even 
 more, if that were possible, my Lisa, since it 
 was because of your love for me." 
 
 A look of unutterable happiness dawned 
 in her face as I bent over her and took both 
 her hands in mine. For a time we looked 
 into each other's eyes and said no word. At 
 length slowly and faintly but with a firm 
 voice my lady spoke: 
 
 "Leonardo, my beloved, you are above all 
 men. Now I can give myself to you in the 
 manner you desire, freely, joyfully, delib-
 
 198 MONNA LISA 
 
 erately, even as a loving bride goes to her 
 beloved spouse. Take me, take me, Leo- 
 nardo, my beloved spouse. Take me in your 
 arms, and kiss me." 
 
 I lifted her in my arms, and our lips met. 
 And then I saw the woman soul. 
 
 "Let me rest in your arms, my beloved, 
 until you hear them coming in the street. 
 Then you may lay me down and call Maria. 
 But now let me rest on your breast for 
 at last I am at peace. ' '
 
 XIV 
 
 THE PORTRAIT 
 
 . . . SOON after Fra Jacopo departed 
 my lady closed her eyes in a quiet slumber. 
 It was now daybreak, and I betook myself 
 homewards, after telling Messer Francesco 
 that I would not leave my house during the 
 day. 
 
 As I entered the studio I beheld the por- 
 trait of my lady upon the easel, and, the 
 image of her face in that last look appear- 
 ing before me as if in reality, I took my 
 brush and colors and set to work upon the 
 picture. It seemed to me as if this were 
 what she would have me do. And now at last 
 what I had labored for so long began to ap- 
 pear under my brush. I worked steadily, 
 without haste but with great sureness, 
 throughout the day, and just before sunset 
 I saw that I could do no more. The por- 
 trait was finished, as far as I or any mortal 
 could carry it, but it was still unfinished, in 
 
 199
 
 200 MONNA LISA 
 
 that it is impossible to portray the soul com- 
 pletely with material instruments directed 
 by a mortal hand. I sat there gazing at my 
 work, and in the fading light the face seemed 
 to become alive; it smiled upon me as my 
 lady did when she lay in my arms, and 
 straightway a great peace filled my 
 spirit. . . . 
 
 Not long after a messenger came from 
 Messer Francesco to tell me that my lady 
 was gone. She had not awakened from the 
 peaceful slumber into which she had fallen 
 at dawn, and had passed away about sunset, 
 so quietly that no one knew the time of her 
 departure. . . .
 
 XV 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 . . . I COULD not remain in Florence. 
 I had no heart to begin work again on the 
 battle picture, and I could not endure to be- 
 hold the places which had known my lady's 
 presence and were now blank and empty. 
 His Excellency, the Cardinal of Amboise, 
 had long been desiring me to come to Milan, 
 and, as the Signory could not afford to dis- 
 please the French, through his intercession 
 I obtained a leave of absence for three 
 months on the 30th of May, 1506. As soon 
 as I could put my affairs in order I left 
 Florence and have never since returned there 
 to dwell, though on several occasions I was 
 forced to visit the city because of business, 
 notably the law suit, which my half 
 brothers had instituted to deprive me of 
 what my father had bequeathed me and also 
 of a little inheritance received from my Uncle 
 
 Francesco. I succeeded finally in upholding 
 201
 
 202 MONNA LISA 
 
 my rights; but I have left the property to 
 them in my will, and may they enjoy it. 
 
 I was also obliged to return to get to- 
 gether a sum of money, since the Gon- 
 falonier had charged me with defrauding the 
 treasury of Florence of money paid me for 
 a picture I did not paint. But when I of- 
 fered him the entire amount he refused to 
 receive it. As for the picture itself I rejoice 
 that I did not finish it, for when the Medici 
 returned to power in 1513, and the poor 
 Gonfalonier Soderini, had to flee for his life, 
 they turned the Hall of the Grand Council 
 into a barrack for their soldiery, who again 
 hold Florence enslaved. And though Mes- 
 ser Giuliano dei Medici, who called himself 
 my friend, caused a fence of boards to be 
 placed before that part of the picture which 
 was completed ; yet he in his turn has passed 
 away, and I know it will not be long before 
 the picture, like my Cavallo in Milan will 
 be destroyed. But whenever I was obliged 
 to go to Florence I remained there as brief 
 a space as possible, and never went into the 
 quarters where I had been wont to see my 
 lady. . . . 
 
 In Milan, Salai came to me, and I received
 
 LISA 203 
 
 him with love, though he feared that I might 
 turn him away; but that was not possible, 
 since he had but lived his life to the best of 
 the light that was given him, even as my 
 lady had lived hers, and I live mine. Still, 
 though I showed him much love, he was 
 never what he was before, and he never men- 
 tioned the name of my lady. He assisted me 
 much with my work and accompanied me to 
 Eome when I went there with 11 Magnifico 
 Giuliano ; but when I at last left Italy to come 
 into France, he remained behind at Milan, 
 having built himself a house in my vineyard 
 that is without the gates, and the moiety of 
 which I have bequeathed to him in my will. 
 His place was taken by my beloved Francesco 
 di Melzi, who did much to cheer me by his 
 beauty and gayety when I first came to Milan 
 from Florence in 1506, and who is now with 
 me and will remain with me in love to the 
 end. 
 
 Before I left Italy, I learned that Messer 
 Francesco, who had consoled himself by mar- 
 rying again, had sold the portrait of my lady. 
 I therefore purchased it, but the new owner, 
 who truly had some idea of its value, made 
 me pay the sum of four thousand gold
 
 204 MONNA LISA 
 
 crowns. This sum was advanced to me by 
 the most Christian King, and the picture is 
 to pass into his hands, for only a great king 
 is worthy to possess the portrait of my lady 
 when I shall pass away. . . . 
 
 And so I learned through my lady what 
 a woman soul might be. Instead of truth 
 and justice which is the goal of man's virtu, 
 woman's end is love love wiih truth and 
 justice if that be possible, but love trans- 
 cending truth and justice if it be not. And 
 indeed it seems to me a good thing that it 
 is so, for a world ruled only by clear truth 
 and stern justice would be but a sorry place 
 and impossible to be dwelt in by most 
 human beings. Love is the creator, the en- 
 folder, the developer, the cherisher of all the 
 beauty and tenderness and sweetness of life, 
 and is the virtu that transcends all others 
 and that saves the world. This was seen by 
 our Lord Christ, who said ... In the 
 struggle for perfection the woman should 
 strive to attain the manly virtu of truth and 
 justice, and the man should strive to attain 
 the woman's virtu of love. Therefore, be- 
 fore my right hand failed me, I put into color 
 my cartoon of the Madonna and Saint Anne,
 
 LISA 205 
 
 and also painted the little picture of Saint 
 John the Baptist, a man yet with all the 
 woman soul within him pointing upward 
 to the new light which is to come. But no 
 man who has seen this last picture can un- 
 derstand it, and I know that most men will 
 fail to grasp its full meaning; for most men 
 are like monkeys, who, when they receive a 
 new thing, can make nothing of it unless they 
 can put it to their noses, in order to smell 
 it and discover if it is good to eat. It is my 
 belief, however, that in the future, men will 
 arise, and women also, who will understand 
 the message of this picture of the Baptist. 
 
 I have made my peace with the Holy 
 Church, and when I die shall pass away like 
 my lady with the ministrations of her priests ; 
 for I now see that the Church, with all her 
 errors, all her superstitions, all her corrup- 
 tion and debauchery in high places, all her 
 trickery and her deceiving of the poor and 
 ignorant, is the one power in this world which 
 upholds and spreads the law of love the 
 law which our Lord Christ taught, and his 
 holy apostles preached the law which filled
 
 206 MONNA LISA 
 
 the heart of my lady and gave her peace 
 when her spirit passed above the heavens. 
 
 And I, being filled with this new faith, 
 which is not like the blind faith of my child- 
 hood, but is founded on my fullest, truest 
 knowledge, the knowledge of life, I am begin- 
 ning to cherish the hope that when my spirit 
 shall abandon this body, its creature and in- 
 strument, it shall meet again the spirit of my 
 lady somewhere, somehow, and then, that 
 my soul shall know her soul in very truth and 
 love, since all earthly impediment shall have 
 been transcended. Vale.
 
 A 000110151
 
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