Leonardo Battles Michelangelo: Florence 1505
A Play by Gayle Millbank
Copyright © 2011 by Seapoint Publishing and GG Millbank
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are real non-the-less this is a work of fiction as there is no way to know exactly what transpired in 1505 in Florence, Italy.
Cover image: a portion of Studies for the Battle of Anghiari, by Leonardo Da Vinci, Accademia, Venice
ISBN: 978-0-9731421-6-7
Seapoint Publishing,
Characters:
Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci: After twenty-four years away, in 1503, Leonardo returned to Florence. He had recently completed the Last Supper in Milan and was working on the Mona Lisa. Sodorini immediately commissioned him to paint the Battle of Anghiari.
Fifty-three-year-old Leonardo was handsome with a clean-shaven face framed in soft golden curls falling to his shoulders. His slim body was carefully dressed in the style of a courtier often wearing a short–for-the–times pink tunic. He was widely travelled, realistic, versatile, self-assured, sophisticated, and socially poised.
He returned to Milan in 1506.
Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni: After completing his first larger-than-life Pieta in Rome, in 1501, Michelangelo returned to Florence to sculpt David which was unveiled on Sept 8, 1504. Shortly thereafter he was commissioned by Soderini to commemorate The Battle of Casina on a wall in the room where Leonardo was working.
Thirty year-old Michelangelo had wild dark hair and a beard, at a time when shaving twice a day was in style, and wore dark-colored clothes, usually dirty and covered in marble dust and chips. He was known to be reclusive, secretive, explosive, brooding, paranoid, angry, irritable, competitive and jealous.
The Pope called him to Rome in the Spring of 1505 to begin work on the Sistine Chapel.
Gian 'Salai' Giacomo Caprotti da Oreno: Salai accommpanied Leonardo to Florence. Salai's relationship with Leonardo is not clear but he may have been his adopted son as when Salai was ten years old he joined Leonardo's household and lived with him thereafter. And, at Leonardo's death he inherited the Mona Lisa and some property.
Twenty-five year-old Salai was a very beautiful boy and appeared in a number of Leonardo's paintings. His nickname translated to 'the devil' and he was described by Leonardo as a liar, a thief, and a glutton.
Place:
Firenze’s (Florence's) Sala del Grand Consiglio (Great Hall) of the Palazzo Vecchio (old palace).
Act One Scene One: January 31, 1505
L: (sitting on a chair looking at his ¼ finished drawing on the wall, wearing his working tunic and has his coat and pink tunic folded neatly over the back of a chair.)
S: (Saunters into the room carrying a basket, colorfully and expensively dressed with an open long coat.) I’m here.
L: (Looks up.) It’s about time.
S: Well, well aren’t we irritable. You sound like Borgia. (Drops basket carelessly)
L: Lucky for you I’m not him. Where have you been?
S: At home. Aren’t you glad to see me? (Waltzes around room)
L: Of course I am. I want to see more of you.
S: (Smiles wickedly) That can be arranged.
L:(Laughs) Salai, you make me laugh.
S: That’s a relief.
L: Now that you are here, I couldn’t be better. You sparkle like the sun that shone brightly on me as I walked here this morning through the busy streets of Firenze.
S: It’s still shining but you can’t tell in this dingy room.
L: The air was crisp and clean . . . just as I remember it from my childhood.
S: Ah si, yes, the perfect Vinci. (Groans.) Don’t start with the Vinci this, the Vinci that.
L: (shrugs) You like Vinci too.
S: Only when it’s funny. (Laughs.) Remember just before Christmas when Francesco was complaining about rancid oil. You tasted the oil in each of the barrels and said they were as fresh as the oil we buy here. He wouldn’t believe you. He dumped the barrels. . . right in the field. Then the oil wouldn’t soak into the frozen ground. What a mess. The chickens ran through the oil and tracked it all over the farm. (Laughs.) Now that was worth seeing.
L: (laughs) It was a terrible waste of expensive oil. (Turns back to the cartone) I have all these sketches to be transferred. I think I’ll have you start in this corner and work toward me. (Over shoulder) But you did enjoy the visit.
S: Wrong! I hate farms.
L: I suspect they remind you of your father’s pitiful farm where you were beaten. But this farm is different.
S: I hate all farms, even Francesco’s. (Stays near door)
L: Francesco. Dear Francesco. He’s left the farm to me in his will you know.
S: No, not that smelly old farm.
L: I could leave it to you in my will.
S: Don’t bother. It’s too oily. (smiles) What’s it worth?
L: I don’t know. But land is always valuable. The winery produces a credible chianti. The olives press into the finest olive oil and in a generous quantity. The cheese. . . well you know how good that is.
S: Sure leave it to me . . . but Francesco looked pretty healthy. And, you look even healthier. So I guess I can’t count on getting that money very soon.
L: (Laughs.) Guess not.
S: I’ll sell it and live off the proceeds.
L: Yes, I want you to be comfortable. I’ll leave you all my sketches, too.
S: Now you’re talking. They might be worth something. Yes, do that. (Picks up a sketch)
L: I’ve already put it in my will.
S: Thank you father I like it when you take care of me. (Hugs him.)
L: You’re my son and I know you have potential.
S: Si, my potential. (fluffs his hair suggestively.)
L: Don’t start that Salai. There’s too much work to do. Here exercise your potential and earn some money. Start with this sketch. Transfer it about here. (Points to area on cartone.) But first take off that expensive coat.
S: (Dances around room taking off coat then grabs a sketch.)
L: Stop fooling around. Start to work.
S: Stop it. You sound like Borgia again. (pouts) I took my coat off, didn’t I?
L: Pick up a pencil and I’ll be happy again.
S: I doubt it. You work all the time. That’s not for me. I’d just die if I couldn’t go to a party every weekend.
L: Yes, dear Salai. I know you want la dolce vita.
S: That’s the way it should be.
L: We need balance in our lives. . . a balance of people, parties and work.
S: Balance? You should talk. All you do is draw in your little book and work, work, work. How tedious.
L: We have bills to pay. Salai you have to change your ways, stop spending so much and start working.
S: You’re still badgering me. Stop it or I’ll leave.
L: Don’t do that Salai, I need your assistance.
S: This is hard work. Why do you take on these bloody big projects when all you need to do is whip off a few portraits of rich royalty.
L: God, that last one, Isabella whats-her-name?. . . in Mantua.
S: Isabella d’Este. . .of the very rich and very royal d’Este family.
L: That’s the one. I finally did a sketch of her, with that gigantic nose, after she pestered me to death. . . (laughs) and she thought it was wonderful. I couldn’t face the thought of spending hours on a full portrait.
S: So that’s why we left in the middle of the night. . . you devil you.
L: Not me, you’re the devil. I just try to avoid conflict.
S: Conflict be damned. . . you didn’t listen to me. I said do it and take her money.
L: Forget it Salai. This is a better project. . . steady money over several years. (Returns to copying a sketch on the cartone.)
S: Steady but just a trickle. We need more money.
L: Salai be reasonable. I don’t have any other commissions.
S: I know. You told me all that last night . That’s why I came.
L: Si, yes, the money, I worry about the money. . . you spend it.
S: Of course, I need lots of things.
L: (Sighs.) I remember you didn’t need much when I adopted you.
S: That’s right. I had nothing, I was starving. Anything looked good.
L: Now it’s nothing but the best.
S: You taught me that.
L: Forget it. Let’s get to work on this mural. I can’t seem to make any progress.
S: What’s the problem? You finished The Last Supper. . . the greatest mural ever completed. (Struts) My father, the brilliant Leonardo. Poor father. You labored so long on The Last Supper. Now this.
L: That’s why I want you to give me more help.
S: Look at that huge blank wall. . . much, much larger than for the Last Supper. You fiddled around with Jesus and Judas for years. I absolutely refuse to be in this room for years. (Plops on the chair.) It’s not worth the effort.
L: I don’t want to repeat the ordeal of The Supper either. But that’s just what’s happening. I’ve been alone in this room the whole month of January.
S: I’ve been here twice .
L: I expect you to come every day, every single day.
S: It’s too boring.
L: I don’t care if you are bored. . . just sketch.
S: Sure, sure. (Pouts but starts to work again.) I’m just a slave.
L: A slave! (Laughs.) Not likely. A pampered pet, a liar. Oh yes, a liar right from the beginning . . . but not a slave.
S: You’re never going to let me forget that incident, are you? I had just come to live with you. How was I to know that old sketch was important?
L: Salai you said you hadn’t seen it. But you sold it and bought anise candy. And, need I add. . . ate it all, and then threw it up.
S: (Smiles.) It tasted good going down. But that was fifteen years ago. I don’t steal any more.
L: I don’t care about the sketch. It was the lie.
S: I don’t know what all the fuss is about. Now show me how to join these sketches.
L: Like this.
S: This is tedious. (Looks around.) Who else has been here? Michelangelo?
L: Not a sign of the great sculptor . . . But heaven forbid Sodorini is always here . . . flitting in and out.
S: Sodorini doesn’t know the first thing about Art but he knows the Duke of Milano and the King of France value your work. He thinks he’s right up there with them. . . pompous fool.
L: I don’t argue with him. He holds the purse strings.(Continues to sketch)
S: The old miser.
L: He paid us right after Christmas when I finished the last of the sketches.
S: That money's long spent.
L: Sad but true. We have quite a few sketches to transfer to the cartone. . then we’ll get the second payment.
S: (Sketching) I’m going as fast as I can . . . we need that money.
L: The third payment will be quick, right after the sepia outline is on the wall.
S: But then what will we do? No more money until it’s finished. It’s going to take forever to get that wax to stick to the wall.
L: Si, I know, I know.
S: This wax will be your downfall.
L: No, no, it will be translucent and shimmering. . . producing such depth. It will outshine the Last Supper as the sun outshines the moon.
S: Sure, sure. We still have to eat.
L: It’s fine. He pays our living expenses and for my painting supplies?
S: I don’t care. . . we need more money. . . You should demand more. You are the great Leonardo Da Vinci.
L: It’s enough. We live very comfortably.
S: Ha, our room is very ordinary. . . only tile on the floor and two small windows. And. . . and, our horses have to share a stall. It’s far from our luxuries in Milano.
L: Salai, be reasonable. This is Firenze not Milano. And we’re employed by a city not a duke.
S: (nods) Sodorini you mean.
L: Just ignore him.
S: He’s so puffed up he thinks everyone including the Pope is watching him.
L: The pope has other things to do but Sodorini is watching us. He even said that people are choosing sides, betting on who will finish first: me or Michelangelo.
S: I think he was exaggerating. No one’s betting. If they were, I would know.
L: (Turns quickly, frowning.) You’re not gambling again? I’ll be very angry if you are.
S: Of course I’m not. I just meant I hear the gossip.
L: I hope you’re telling the truth.
S: I am. But did you know Sodorini said that this room has become the center of the world. He insists two great titans are fighting: Leonardo Battles Michelangelo. (Laughs.)
L: You’re changing the subject.
S: I just wondered how can it be a battle when we never see Michelangelo? (pauses as he is opening the basket again. Laughs.) He’s certainly a memorable and exciting person. He’s got that thick black beard and dark scowling eyes. You can’t miss him. Where’s he anyway? Off flexing his muscles? . . .preparing to slay David.
L: He does look like Goliath.
S: He sends shivers down my spine.
L: Shivers? (Frown) Stay away from him. He would just chew you up and spit you out. You’re not David, you know.
S: If I was, would I slay him?
L: Don’t play games with someone as serious as Michelangelo. (Examines Salai’s work) That sketch is coming nicely, just a little longer in that leg.
S: I promise I won’t become David and I’ll come here every day.
L: Every day, now that’s what I need to hear.
S: You take advantage of my artistic talents.
L: (Laughs.) Well you’re good. I taught you myself. But you need to produce more; I can barely keep up with your clothing bills.
S: You want me to look good, don’t you?
L: You always look good to me.
S: Sure. . . but I do need a new winter coat – it’s freezing outside - one of heavy woven wool, with a hood. Yes, definitely with a hood. Brrr. . . I’m cold. (Snuggles up to Leonardo.) It’s cold in here. My fingers are stiff.
L: (Takes his hands again rubbing them to warm them.) Your hands are cold, as cold as the snow blowing off the Duomo. You do need a new coat. I think it should be a deep forest green, that would frame your golden curls.
S: That’s what I think too. We’ll look good together – my forest green with your pink. I’ll order it when we leave here.
L: That’s a good idea. Then once I have the brazier, I’ll keep the room warmer . . . you’ll be able to work in comfort.
S: Yes if you could have the brazier delivered soon and light it every morning, then it would be warm and my hands wouldn’t freeze.
L: Uhh or you could run over here first thing in the morning and start the brazier for us.
S: I hate getting out of my warm bed too early. And I do bring our lunch. Speaking of that, I’m hungry and it’s almost noon. Come father take a break. You need some food too. Look, our landlady packed us something special. She used the supplies we brought back from Francesco’s farm. (Sits down and starts opening the basket.)
L: Thank you Salai that looks very inviting and I am hungry.
S: (yawn) I feel warmer now and I’m hungry too. Find us a table and I’ll show you the pleasures I brought with me.
L: Sounds interesting, oh you mean the food.(looks around and then fetches a chair.)
S: (spreads the colourful cloth on the one chair as a table cloth. Pulls the basket toward him and starts to open it.)
S: You’re finally agreeing with me. Forget the mural. Come, have some wine. (Holds the cover up and sniffs.)
L: Maybe you’re right. I need a break. (Smiles) I smell something delicious coming from that basket. (Smiles, cleans his hands, and sits gracefully on a chair arranging his tunic.)
S: Fresh bread, plus Francesco’s chianti and provalone. Now here, try the bread. . . feel. . .it’s still warm.
L: Mmmmm . . . It’s so crusty.
S: Here . . . try this. (Uses the knife to cut him a piece of bread and one of cheese.)
L: Mmm. . .Thank you amore mio. This is delicious. (Savors the cheese.)
S: Prego
Act One Scene Two: February 7, 1505
M:(Wearing baggy, dark clothes and an unbuttoned sheepskin jacket, stands in doorway.)
L: (½ finished cartone is on the wall, sketching intently with his back to the door, speaks without looking.) What took you so long?
M: (Stands, staring.)
L: (Turns, surprised. Bows.) Michelangelo, what are you doing here?
M: What do you think?
L: I’m expecting my son. I thought you were him.
M: Not even close. (Moves chair around, paces out wall.)
L: I thought you had changed your mind about this project.
M: Why would I do that?
L: I don’t know but you never come here.
M: I don’t answer to you.
L: Of course not. I was just wondered where you were.
M: It’s none of your business but . . . Carrara.
L: Carrara. . . You’ve been to Carrara. Burrrr. . . what a cold time of year to go to the mountains.
M: The marbles were waiting for buyers.
L: (Turns back to drawing.) You were gone a long time. It’s February 7th already.
M:(Mutters.) . . . Just as long as it takes to ride a horse there and back, and choose one for each apostle. Everyone knows I can pick the best marbles.
L: Si, that’s an important skill for a sculptor. I heard you were weaned on marble dust in Settignano.
M: And you on horse shit on your grandparent’s farm.
L: A farm, si. And yes I had my own horse, a horse to ride among the olives and grapes and the beautiful hills around Vinci.
M: But it was a farm. I on the other hand started my art career early . . . when I was three my foster father gave me a chisel and showed me how to shape marble.
L: Si you started much younger than I. . . and you are still much younger.
M: Si, younger and stronger. Don’t you forget that.
L: How can I with you shouting in my face?
M: Doesn’t matter. . . What matters is - the marbles I picked this month and getting Sodorini to pay for them.
L: (Shrugs.) He’s paid my expenses. I haven’t had any trouble with him.
M: Humph, the murals are a trivial cost. . . he’s given me an advance already. (Stamps his foot, then smiles and rubs his hands together in anticipation. Mutters.) Now white marble, beautiful, flawless snow-white marble, that’s a different story . . . very expensive. . . very unique. . . two should arrive next month. . . the rest when I am ready. My marbles are flawless and much desired.
L: Si, I believe you.
M: I put my seal on the blocks and have precise sketches of each block so no one can steal them.
L: (Smiles.) I can’t imagine anyone stealing a gigantic block of marble.
M: (Ignores him.) Sodorini is be overjoyed that I’m back. (Holds up his pile of sketches. Continues, ignoring Leonardo.) He told me my mural is the most important mural ever to be painted in Firenze.
L: Interesting, he said something similar to me. So let’s get on with it. Your wall awaits you. (Bows politely and then points to the wall.)
M: (Snorts. Hands on hips, eyes assessing Leonardo’s cartone.) Don’t get too far on that wall, I still have to choose.
L: (Politely points at the wall again and walks in front of it imagining a painting being displayed on it.) Unfortunately when I started this project almost two years ago there was no mention that anyone else would be commissioned. So I chose my wall and did the prep work. When you finished David last year I heard you were working on a battle scene. It was only then I deduced it was for this room.
M: (Exaggerates a courtier’s bow. Then sarcastically) Did you de. . . duce anything else?`
L: (Turns back to his cartone ignoring Michelangelo.). No.
M: (Stares. Looks at Leonardo’s pile of sketches and he moves deliberately to them and starts to examine them.) What’s that? . . . your usual rock . . . and . . .and a bridge?
L: They fought back and forth on that bridge. (Moves hand back and forth.)
M: (Snorts) Oh si, the very important bridge. . . what’s this? It looks gory.(Comes even closer.)
L: War is gory. It’s bestial.
M: Ha, you know what? Anghiari wasn’t gory or. . . bestial. Only one life was lost . . . one life. (Laughs). The Battle of Anghiari was a farce – one soldier died. . . he fell off his horse. . . probably tripped on the important bridge and hit your usual rock.
L: It was war and there was a possibility of death.
M: No. It was mercenaries playing at war.
L: I’ve heard you are taking a different approach: you’re doing the beginning of the battle. (Walks back to the other side of the room.) The gossips say the soldiers were in the river. . . swimming. (Smiles.)
M: Si, they were in the Arno- washing. It was a hot day. (Walks toward Leonardo, gesturing with his hands). .
L: What can I say? That’s certainly a clever way to get to paint nudes.
M: Sodorini says Casina is causing quite a stir.
L: The gossips are twittering about both our battles. They say you don’t have time for it.
M: That’s all they know. (Takes off his jacket and dumps it on the floor) In fact Sodorini only needs one mural. Since I’m the best artist in Firenze, I’m going to do it.
L: (Glances at Michelangelo.) Sodorini wants both our murals. And, he wants us both in this room. He’s saying this is me battling you. He wants to keep everyone stirred up and watching Firenze.
M: (Voice loud while pacing out the wall to site his mural). Don’t waste your time. You’ll be out of here this week.
L: Michelangelo, I’ve prepared this area of the wall and I am almost half finished my cartone.
M: Forget it. Go back to Milano. Take your horses to your next project. (Examining Leonardo’s partial cartone on the wall closely).
L: (Smiles.) As long as I get paid, I’m painting this mural. But I thought you were going back to Roma when David was finished.
M: I haven’t been called. (Eyes dart around. Bows head and crosses himself.)
L: I don’t think the pope would want your nudes anyway. He likes saints.(Smiles).
M: What’s so funny? (Bristles, takes threatening step toward Leonardo.).They have to be nude - four hundred men, men in their prime . . . all wet and slippery and panicky. (Paces restlessly in front of the cartone). They were vulnerable . . . and yet. . . they triumphed. (Waves hand). It was magnificent.
L: (Calm again.) It’s hardly a battle scene – there’s no bloodshed.
M: So what? (Looks down.)
L: That’s interesting. (Stares at the sketches and reaches out to adjust the angle of one of them.)
M: (Grabs his arm and pulls him away). Don’t try to steal my ideas.
L: (Turns away). I wouldn’t dream of it.
M: And, and . . .by taking this commission . . . you’re stealing from me.(Points his finger. Looks wild.)
L: I don’t think so. . . I don’t steal from anyone. I wouldn’t steal from you.
M: You knew I was here.
L: You live here. Everyone knows that.
M: You’re wasting your time. (Points at cartone). Sodorini will agree with me and cancel your contract. Then I can be alone here and complete my mural. Your moments in this room are very limited.
L: (Shakes his head.) I don’t think we should involve Sodorini. If we continue like this we will provide entertainment . . . for the gossips of Firenze. I just want to get on with this mural.
M: (Grunts picks up sketches, and starts toward the door). We’ll see about that.
L: (Soothing.) Michelangelo you definitely have the first chance at any commissions in Firenze. This has been your home most of your life. I, on the other hand, have been away for the last twenty-four years. You are, without a doubt, the first choice in Firenze.
M: Humph. That’s right. And, don’t you forget it – first in Firenze, first in Italy. (Adjusts his jacket.)
L: (Smiles and walks toward Michelangelo hands out.) Please, why don’t you stay. . . please let me hold your sketches on the wall so you can look at them from a distance.
M: Don’t touch my sketches. (Hugs sketches.) That’s it. I can’t stand you seeing my work. I won’t be crowded or ordered around by such as you. . . I’m going to see Sodorini. (Stomps out of the room.)
L: Ciao. (Stands in the middle of the room looking from wall to wall and then shakes his head and goes back to work.)
Act One Scene Three: February 14, 1505
M: (sitting on floor sorting sketches.)
L: (enters, stops surprised to see Michelangelo, puts down metal palate and several blocks of wax. Quietly and carefully removes his coat and tunic and puts on his work tunic. Looks at Michelangelo again and then sets to work pricking ‘guide’ holes in completed cartone which is hanging on the wall.)
M:So you know?
L: Know? If you mean that we are both to produce murals. . . yes I know. What else could he say? He loves all the attention we are bringing to him and Firenze.
M: Humph. (Continues working.)
L: Si, I’m glad that’s settled. I just want to finish this. (Points at cartone.)
M: He may change his mind yet so don’t get too comfortable here.
L: I’ll just keep working . . . slowly. I see you have started on the East wall.
M: It’s the best wall. It's protected from the harsh morning light and will glow in the evening's rosy hue. The light will encourage my mural to express different emotions. (Pointing at the West wall.) You can keep your wall. (Starts to paste up his blank cartone paper.)
L: (Wipes his forehead in mock relief.) Well that saves a lot of upheaval. It would have been a problem for me to start over.
M: Your problems are nothing. (Louder) My battle deserves the best site. (The anger disappears from his face as he lovingly sorts through his sketches.)
L: (restacks his wax.)
M: (Turns to look at Leonardo’s wall and his supplies.) What are you doing? That looks like wax.
L: It is.
M: Wax? (Walks toward Leonardo’s mural.) Wax? What in the name of Saint Mary are you doing with wax?
L: Fresco doesn’t give a range of color or texture. And, there’s no depth.
M: (Shakes his head then stops and examines Leonardo’s work.) That’s crazy. Wax was fine in Greece, not Italy. Italians use fresco.
L: Si, I did buon fresco in Milano. . . a gigantic and complicated willow tree on the vaulted ceiling in the Duke’s castle. I had to lie on my back on scaffolding with paint dropping on my face. . . for months.
M: Your pretty face and clothes would have been a mess. (Continues to study intently Leonardo’s sketches and cartone, returns to own side of room. Lays blank cartone paper on the floor.) I would never. . never. . . lie on my back and do a vaulted ceiling.
L: (Watches Michelangelo.) Neither will I, no matter what they pay me. Finally we are in complete agreement.
M: Not complete agreement, remember I’m not a painter (Pulls eyes away and returns to own side of room.) I'm a sculptor. That’s what I do best. This little fresco's just a whim between marble projects.
L: Whim or not , (Walks closer to Michelangelo.) I can hardly wait to see your cartone.
M: Everyone is waiting to see my cartone. So far I have accomplished in six months what it took you two years to do. . . all my sketches are done. And soon, my cartone will be complete, too. (Starts to place the sketches on cartone paper, spacing them out over the whole cartone, pulls sketches to the center so they are touching one another.)
L: Bene, bene, Good, good. (Fascinated by the sketches he watches as they are placed.) I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to be working with an artist of your caliber.
M: Forget it. We’re not working together. (Blocks Leonardo’s view with his shoulder.) Stop staring at my work. I told you that before.
L: You’re so suspicious like a shepherd who sees wolves in every cave. (Walks around the edge of Michelangelo’s cartone, measuring, and then returns to his side of the wall.)
M: My work is so important, so original I need to hide it. Anyone could be a thief.
L: (Shakes his head no.) I’m not a thief.
M: We’ll see.
L: Let’s not argue. Let’s work together like friends.
M: (Snorts.) We aren’t working together and we’re not friends.
L: You’re so irritable. Are you sure you want to be here?
M: I have every right to be here. . . in fact, more than you. I am beloved by all the people of Firenze. Ask anyone.
L: Yes, you’re loved by all. But I’m interfering with your work as much as you with mine.
M: So? You can leave. (Stands, hands on hips.)
L: (Turns his back, continues pricking the cartone, and doesn’t reply.)
M:(Places his final sketch and steps back to study it, moves a few sketches around.)
L: (shows pleasure and approval, scans the sketches. ) Fantastic, you made an anatomy lesson come to life. Look at those muscles. I can learn from you. . . You have men climbing over the banks, twisting, stumbling, panicking. . .The best nudes I have ever seen. . . (points.)
M: (Stiff and trying to block Leonardo’s view.)
L: (Dodges around Michelangelo.) I can feel the fear; I can hear the shouts.
M: Stop peering at my work. (gets up, takes a stick of charcoal and draws a line down the center of the chamber.) See that line. Don’t cross it. You stay on your side of the line or else. (Turns his back and studies his wall.) Just stay on your side of the line.
L: Michelangelo I don’t need threats to cooperate. However, the line is an excellent idea. Yes excellent. It demarcates each of our territories.
M: (Mocking voice.) Just stay on your side of the line.
L: (Silently examining own space.) I’ll need room for my apprentice.
M: You’ve got as much room as I do. Stay on your side of the line.
L: Yes, you’ve clearly and fairly divided the room. I’ll be able to work within my space.
M: You better, or else. (Waves hands in the air.) I don’t have time to argue with you. I’m very busy with my other projects. (His hand pauses over his sketches.) Look, Leonardo, whether I’m here or not, you stay on your side of the line. (Roughly pushes him to his side of the line.) Don’t cross that line. (Shouts and points at the line on the floor, his face registers anger, pushes on Leonardo’s chest.)
L: Michelangelo I don’t want to fight with you. I just want us to peacefully share this room and produce our murals. (Backs up and stumbles over the pile of wax and lands on his bottom. . . looks surprised.)
M: (advances.)
L: (Puts his hands up as though to ward off blows.) I promise I will not cross the line into your space.
M: Just don’t interfere with my work. (Towers over him. Fists raised.)
L: Don’t hit me. I won’t even think about your work. (Hands out in protection.)
M: (Glares at Leonardo. Fist raised.)
S: (Enters.) Oh ho.
L: (Looks toward the door.)
M: (Lowers fist. Gapes at Salai.) Who?
S: What do we have here?
L: Salai. (Starts to his feet and dusts himself off.)
M: (Stares, stunned.) You?
S: (Mouths' no' to Michelangelo.)
L: Salai is my assistant.
M: Salai? Salai is your assistant? (Turns his back to the door and starts to pile his sketches.)
L: He won’t bother you. And we’ll be fine on this side of the room. There’s lots of space for all of us.
M: Salai?
L: Come in Salai, but stay on this side of the line.
S: (Enters carrying a small basket of food.)
L: Salai dear, you’re welcome. (Helps him with basket.)
S: Of course, I bring food and hands to work. Why wouldn’t you be glad to see me?
L: Michelangelo I’d like you to meet Salai, my son.
M: (Looks over his shoulder. Registers surprise.) Your son?
S: (Waves.) It’s sure crowded in here.
M: Your son? How could that be? He doesn’t look like you.
L: Actually I adopted him when he was ten. (Smiles.) He definitely livens up my life.
MA: (Silence) Your son.
S: (tosses his coat in a heap.) Wow! Leonardo do you see how much Michelangelo has done? He’s pretty impressive. (Moves toward and examines Michelangelo’s sketches.)
L: Salai come on our side of the room. Don’t cross that line. Leave Michelangelo alone.
S: In a minute.
M: Salai stay here and I’ll show you what I’m doing. (Smiles.)
S: I see what you’re doing. (Laughs.)
L: Come here Salai. (Pulls on his arm.)
S: (brushes him off.) Don’t. I want to see.
M: Leonardo let him choose.
S: (Laughs) Am I such a prize? The greatest artists in Italy are squabbling over me. I love it.
M: (Frowns.)
L: (Shrugs and turns to his work.)
S: (Stays by Michelangelo. They touch shoulders.)
L: (Starts to work.) Salai come over here and earn your keep. I need assistance if I am to keep ahead of Michelangelo.
S: (Grumble, grumble, crosses the line to Leonardo’s side of room.))
M: (Starts to clear up his work.)
L: Leaving?
M: Si, it’s too crowded here.
L: Again I agree with you. It’s too crowded when we’re all here. I think we need to talk about how to share this space better - in a way that would give each of us more privacy. The line you drew is a very good idea. I’ll respect it. Nonetheless I have an additional idea . . . I think we should take turns using this room.
S: No, that won’t do.
L: Be quiet Salai. Michelangelo and I are talking.
S: (Mouths 'Michelangelo and I are talking.')
M: Humph. . . I prefer mornings for work . . . (Looks at his cartone.)
L: I would be happy to work after noon. Yes, you before noon and me after noon. I like that. What do you think?
S: (Mouths ‘you before noon, me after’.)
L: Stop it Salai.
M: I think that I would never have to see you.
L: (Continues his drawing of the outline.) And when you start doing fresco I’ll not fire my braziers until well after lunch. That will give you time to complete your day’s work.
M: Si, I’ll sleep here in the evening and work all night and into the morning.
S: Why would anyone work all night?
L: (Shakes head.) Michelangelo you amaze me with your capacity for work.
M: When I stop working here at noon . . . I’ll go to my studio and sculpt until it’s time to come back. (Turns back to work.)
S: That’s so boring.
L: Salai stop interfering.
S: (Pouts.)
L: Yes this new schedule will work very well. Yes that should solve our problem.
M: Humph.
L: Come join us. Salai has brought lunch - cheese and bread and chianti. . . lots of great cheese from Vinci.
M: No, I’m leaving. (Looks at Salai. Angrily picks up his sketches and stomps out. Looks back at Salai.)
L/ S: (stare after him.)
L: What was that about?
S: (Shrugs.) I wouldn’t know.
L: It’s going to be a challenge to not argue with him.
S: (Self conscious laugh.) He didn’t like me being here.
L: That’s. . . for sure, and . . . it was more than that. . .
S: Forget him.
L: He seemed different. . . surprised when he looked at you. (Thoughtfully.)
S: You’re mistaken. I saw nothing. (Turns away from Leonardo.) What am I working on today?
Act Two Scene One: February 20, 1505
M: (working on his ¼ finished cartone. Leonardo's sepia outline is half finished.)
S: Here I am. (Bursts through the doorway, flings off his new green coat, and prances in.)
M: So I see. Why am I not surprised? (Continues to work.)
S: You knew I would come.
M: Si, I saw it in your eyes.
S: Si, our eyes met. I felt the connection. Leonardo didn’t see it.
M: Poor Leonardo. He thinks you’re a good son. What a dreamer.
S: (Shrugs.) I am a good son.
M: ( Laughs.) Says who?
S: Says me.
M: (Laughs) The word of a sneak and a liar. You’re like the court jester all front and no substance.
S: And you love it.
M: (Laughs)
S: There’s something in the basket. Just like before.
M: I’m hungry. I’ve been working all night.
S: You’re always hungry and always working. (Carries the basket in and sets it by the chair.)
M: (stares at him.) Everything you said was a lie.
S: How else would I get in to see David?
M: Humph. And I fell for it.
S: You were hungry.
M: You told me your name was Giacomo but it’s not.
S: You never believe me. (pouts.) I wouldn’t deceive you. My real name is Gian Giacomo Caprotti da Oreno. Salai’s the name Leonardo gave me.
M: Salai? The devil! Are you the devil?
S: (Shrugs) Call me whatever you want. I knew you wouldn’t let me in if I was Leonardo’s son. I thought I was a rather good wine merchant’s apprentice.
M: Humph. I trusted you. (Puts down paint brush. And stands and stares at his cartone.)
S: You didn’t. You don’t trust anybody. You used me – for food and for . . . entertainment.
M: Si, why not? And you got to see David before anyone else.
S: That was the least you could do.
M: (Snorts.) You’re incorrigible. (Walks around him)
S: That’s why you like me. You liked me the first time you saw me.
M: (Pauses.) I’m trying to remember . . . You knocked on the door to the David shed. I ignored you, but you persisted.
S: The second night you grabbed the supper basket out of my hands and slammed the door. The third night I hung on to the basket and you pulled me into the shed.
M: I’d been working non-stop for a week and I was hungry. The smell of fresh bread is what got you in the door. Not your charming face.
S: But you liked my charming face.
M: I’m always looking for models. . . I did throw you out as soon as I devoured the wine and cheese.
S: But I came back the next night and the next.
M: Si, the cheese was good.
S: And me? (Touches Michelangelo’s shoulder)
M: Humph. I said the cheese was good. That was eighteen months ago. Then you just disappeared.
S: I’ve been busy. (Shrugs)But I’m here now. (Sidles over to Michelangelo.)
M: Humph. (Moves away.)
S: (stands beside Michelangelo and looks at cartone, touches his arm.)
M: Don’t touch me. Last time you left without a word.
S: Ohh grouchy. Just be happy I’m here now. I promise I won’t disappear again. In fact, I’ll be working in this room . . . most days.
M: Is that supposed to please me?
S: Of course you’ll see me every day.
M: I’m not interested in seeing you or anyone else every day.
S: I’ll have to come before noon.
M: Forget it. I have work to do.
S: I’ll bring lunch and come about 10:30. We can visit for an hour .
M: Leonardo wouldn’t like that.
S: Who cares? I don’t. Any way I can be gone before Leonardo comes.
M: Salai, you are the devil.
S: Maybe, maybe not. (picks up one of Michelangelo’s sketches)
M: Don’t touch that.
S: (Drops it and dramatically jumps back) I won’t, I promise.
M: Don’t ever touch my sketches.
S: I said I wouldn’t.
M: (mutters)
S: Leonardo raves about your sketches.
M: Does he?
S: He says they’re the best he has ever seen. (Sidles over to the sketches again.)
M: They demonstrate what I have learned about the human body.
S: (Glancing at the top sketch.) Si, I see the men in every conceivable posture. (He leans closer.) Hey that’s familiar. . . that’s my face. . . my bum!
M: Si, that’s your dear little bum. Your slim body gave me just the contrast I needed for tense and bulging muscles.
S: You used me.
M: You knew I sketched you.
S: There I am again. Leonardo sometimes puts me in his paintings. Never nude. (Peers at cartone for awhile then moves back to see the whole picture.)
M: That’s his loss. . . Forget Leonardo. . . He’s doing horses. My mural’s more interesting. I’ve put you with hundreds of men.
S: (Smiles.) Wow! Si, si, young men with twisting straining naked bodies. Now that’s exciting. What an orgy this would make. . . with me wearing a Roman toga. . . drinking lots of chianti.
M: That sounds like your style.
S: I need excitement. You both are as boring as the bare rock on this mural ( points at bottom of cartone.) and just as colorless and dull.
M: But the rocks give a solid base for the startled men. (Pauses, stares at Salai) If I’m the rock, are you the conflict and confusion?
S,: I don’t know what you mean. I have brought laughter into your life.
M: Only when it suits you.
S: You’re so unfair.
M: (Laughs and turns back to his work.)
S: (Flips through the sketches) The soldiers. . . their panic . . . My body is responding.
M: Your body is easily aroused but si, the sketches are even better than I expected. I particularly like the way I have squashed you there against that warrior.
S: (Giggles and squashes against Michelangelo.)
M: (pushes him away and turns back to work.) This is not a good idea. . . you distract me from my work.
S: Poor Michel can’t work. (Pulls up a chair and opens the basket.) Maybe he would like to eat? Come see I’ve brought some of your favorite cheese. And smell this fresh bread.
M: (Smiles and joins him) Mmm now that is interesting.
S: (Sensuously cuts a piece and feeds it t o Michelangelo) Try this Michel. And a little Chianti.
M: Mmmm
S: You are very cute when you’re eating. But what am I going to do with you. Work, work, that’s all you do.
M: (Laughs) Someone has to.
S: (laughs, grabs paint brush) That’s better. I think a little dab of this orange on your cheek would brighten things up.
M: (Laughs, grabs his hand and they wrestle and end in a sexual grip.)
S: (Giggles and cuddles up to Michelangelo. They kiss.)
Act Two Scene Two: March 6, 1505
M: (working on his half finished cartone. Leonardo's sepia outline is three-quarters finished.)
S: (Enters, flings off his coat, sets down a basket.) I’m here.
M: Did you bring food?
S: Maybe. Wow that was a dash to get here. I had to creep behind the Duomo to avoid the moneylenders.
M: I’m not surprised, the way you spend money.
S: Just for the necessities of life.
M: (Laughs) Necessities? Silks from the orient, pure wool from the Cotswolds, etc, etc. You live like a young prince.
S: That’s what I mean the necessities of life for a prince.
M: Leonardo spoils you. But speaking of money, I have to earn some. You’ve been here every single day for the past two weeks, you’re interfering with my cartone.
S: I won’t bother you. I’ll just watch quietly. (Pause.) Sodorini was clever pitting you two against each other.
M: I don’t care. Be quiet.
S: Everyone, all over Firenze, is talking about The Battle.
M: Quit babbling.
S: MMM. They’re choosing sides.
M: Which side are you on?
S: (Smiles) Yours of course. Everyone is betting on their favorite to finish first.
M: Betting? Betting on who finishes first? (Turns to look at Salai, eyebrow raised)
S: Sure, lots of money is at stake.
M: Is that so? My guess is you’re right in there, betting everything you have, everything Leonardo has. That’s not honest; you have an inside view that no one else has.
S: So what?
M: That’s cheating. You want to make money no matter what.
S: So? I think Leonardo’s going to win. He’s started his sepia outline; you’re still on your cartone. He’s working harder than ever before. He never even slaved this much over The Last Supper.
M: Humph. (Pauses.)
S: But you still have a chance. You’re working day and night.
M: He’ll get slower and slower when he starts with that wax. On the other hand, I’ll get faster and faster when I start to work on drying plaster.
S: Does that mean you will finish first?
M: Certainly.
S: When will you finish?
M: Maybe June , maybe December.
S: June? December? Leonardo says December, too.
M: With that wax? I doubt it.
S: He’s trying to outdo you.
M: He’s pretty intense.
S: Can you really beat him?
M: Probably, but what do you care?
S: I don’t. It’s Leonardo. He’s watching the progress of your cartone.
M: Spying you mean. You’re spying too. I hate it. But he does work hard . . . almost as hard as I do.
S: Si, that’s what I said. . . work, work, work. There must be easier ways to make money.
M: If there is, you’ll find it.
S: I don’t know what you mean.(Shrugs.)Why do you pick on me? Leonardo likes me, even adores me. Leonardo says I lighten his life.
M: Basta, enough about Leonardo. He’ll be moving back to Milano and be just a vague memory. But you Salai . . . Will you go too?
S: Would you make it worth my while to stay here?
M: You dreamer. I can’t afford you.
S: Too bad. (Pouts.) Are you sure?
M: Si.
S: It’s just as well, Leonardo couldn’t manage without me.
M: No? He might be relieved to be rid of you.
S: I doubt it. He clings to me. He says it’s because he was raised by his grandparents.
M: Humph. I was raised by foster parents in the hills of Settignano until I was ten.
S: That’s similar to Leonardo.
M: My mother . . . I just remember a smell. . . rosemary I think. . .(Smiles and looks intently at Salai.) And her soft skin. . . soft white hands (Takes Salai’s hand in his and looks at it gently.) And her voice was quiet and gentle. But that’s all. . . vague memories.
S: Poor Michel.
M: Why did my father impregnate her five time in eight years? Was he stupid or did he not care for her?
S: Probably both.
M: He just rutted like a randy old goat.
S: Probably.
M: I have four brothers. Father can’t afford to feed them. Why did he do it?
S: I’m the wrong one to ask. I feel no desire for women at all. They’re too soft and smelly.
M: Me too. I avoid women as much as possible. I don’t understand them. (Frowns.)
S: (Laughs.) Thank God for that. Now stop being maudlin. I have a surprise for you. (Opens the basket.)
M: (Wipes his hands and sits on a chair.) What?
S: (Lifts a surprise out of basket singing.) Buon Compleanno. . . Happy Birthday dear Michel.
M: (Smiles.) I had forgotten.
S: Ti adoro .
M: Maybe.
S: You’re thirty today. It’s March sixth.
M: Just reaching my prime.
S: Si, you got that right.
M: What’s in the basket? Why can’t I remember if I had supper last night? (Looks in basket.) Giacomo! Profiteroles!
S: Filled with Ricotta, Mascarpone and drizzled with chocolate-hazelnut syrup.
M: (Bites into it.)
S: Do you like it?
M: MMM delicious . . . the pastry. . is so light, the filling . . . creamy. . . the syrup. . . sweet.
S: (Watches him eat the first profiterole.) I wanted your birthday to be memorable. (Leans over and starts to pull on his ears.)
M: What are you doing?
S: I’m pulling on your ears! Thirty years, thirty pulls, I almost forgot to do it.
M: (Grabs him and pulls him into his lap.)
S: (Laughs.)
M: (Laughs, embraces Salai.)
Act Two Scene Three: March 16, 1505.
L: (Sepia outline complete. Taking off coat and putting on work clothes.) Well here it is March 16th.
S: (Stands in doorway.) That’s right. We made it past the Ides of March without incidence.
L: I didn’t even think of that. (Stacking wax and examining metal palate.) All I know is I’ve been working in this room for two and a half months . . . it's going much slower that I had thought.
S: (Flinging coat on floor.) I predict we’re never going to finish.
L: (Laughs) You’ve only been helping for the last month or so. Stop complaining and help me fire up the brazier.
S: You're finally going to start the wax. How long now before you finish?
L: We'll have to see how the wax goes. And how hard you work.
S: The fire's hot. Let's get on with it. Are you sure you should use wax? Michelangelo said..."
L: I know what he said. Now climb up this scaffolding.
S: (Shakes scaffolding) This is dangerous. It’s older than the cobble stones. (looks at pile of papers and whispers) What’s this? (Flips through papers, smiles)
L: Don’t worry. I’m careful.
S: You better be. We’ll be in trouble if you can’t work. (Puts papers behind his back.)
L: Never-the-less we need it to reach the high spots.
S: If Sodorini wants the mural done, he’s going to have to supply the equipment we need.
L: Ha, he doesn’t care.
S: (Looks around furtively. Whispers) I’ll just move these papers somewhere safe.
L: (Sorting through his sketches and preparing for work.) What did you say? Just listen to that rain. (Gathers his equipment. Church bells ringing.) It’s the worst storm this winter.
S: (Flings on coat.) I have to go.
L: No, not out into this storm.
S: It’s nothing.
L: But. . .but you said you would work today. (Hand up as though to stop him.) Stay, I need you.
S: I forgot our food basket.
L: Never mind it. We both have to work.
S: I’m gone.
L: When will you be back?
S: (over his shoulder) Don’t know. (Leaves.)
L: (Shaking his head) He’s gone. What can I do to motivate that boy? Where did I go wrong with him? (Takes wax palate in hand, steps on first rung of scaffold, it breaks, he falls. Lies on floor. Silence.)
M: (Enters wearing his jacket, stares at Leonardo.) What? Is this a trick?. . .I don’t need this. I’ll just take my sketches and leave. (Looks for sketches) There they are. (Grabs them, turns to leave, pauses at door, his back to the room. Then turns slowly, shrugs and walks toward Leonardo.)
L: (Lies very still.)
M: (Stands over Leonardo, pokes him with his shoe.) Wake up old man. Wake up. Don’t pretend you’re hurt. I don’t have time for this. I have to go to my studio. I have five projects underway. Don’t you know I’m very busy. I worked all night. . . I’m still tired. That’s why I forgot these. (waves sketches) (Pokes Leonardo again.) Get up old man you’re in my way. Hello. Are you dead? (Looks at him closely.) You sure are pale, just like a corpse. No you can’t be dead you’re too tough, too smart. (Shakes his head. Kneels down beside him. Puts his hand on his chest.) You’re breathing. (Looks around, sees the scaffolding.) I bet you fell off the scaffold - crumbling cheap equipment. Can you hear me? Damn it, I don’t have time for this. Wake up. (Turns Leonardo’s head.) That’s blood. Holy saints what happened? (Mutters as he looks at blood trickling from back of Leonardo’s head. Crosses himself and says a brief prayer.)
L: (Stirs)
M: Are you hurt?
L: (Groans and holds his head.) Where am I?
M: Palazzo Vecchio, The Old Palace.
L: (Groan) Milano?
M: No, Firenze.
L: Si, Firenze.
M: (Shrugs.) Your head is bleeding. Stay still.
L: (Touches head and looks at blood.) Ouch.
M: Easy does it. You’re confused.
L: What happened?
M: You hit your head.
L: (Groan. Tries to get up.)
M: Don’t move around. I’ll go for help.
L: No! Please sir don’t leave me alone.
M: Stay still I’ll call for help. (Goes to doorway) Help, help. Someone help me. (No response.) No one can hear me. No one comes here. (Goes back to Leonardo) Where’s Salai? He should be here. He’s never where he should be.
L:(whispers.) My head aches.
M: I have to leave. (hugs sketches.) I’ve got my sketches. How could I have been so careless to leave them here?
L: (groans)
M: Salai will be here soon. He’ll look after you. (Starts for the door.)
L: Please help me.
M: I can’t help you.
L: Please.
M: (Stops, comes back.) Maybe I should carry you home. No, Salai should do it. That’s Salai’s job isn’t it? Where is he any way? He should be here working with you.
L: Salai?
M: Your dear son.
L: Oh yes . . . Salai.
M: (puts sketches down carefully, looks around and gets Leonardo’s coat, folds it, puts it gently under his head.) Damn, you’re still bleeding. (Looks at his hand) That’s your blood on my hand. They’ll say I killed you.
L: I’m not dead. . . yet.
M: They’ll say I was jealous and lost my temper. . . they all know about my temper. . . I lost control in the streets when they were towing David. Anyone would have. They had him in a cart and were jiggling him around – for three days. . . three whole days. I was sure he would . . . turn into marble dust. This time they’ll say I couldn’t stand the competition so I eliminated it.
L: Just help me up to a chair. I’ll be alright.
M: (Wipes the blood off his hand with a paint rag. Gets up and paces around.) I’ll be sent to jail. There are no witnesses. They’ll say Michelangelo is a wild and angry artist. He did it. (Tears at his hair.) They’ll say I am a murderer.
L: That chair, bring it closer.
M: (aside) Just a minute, maybe it would be better if you were dead. Then Salai would be mine. The only time I ever laugh is when I am with him. I know he’s a rogue but he amuses me.
L: If I could just sit up.
M: (aside) Who am I kidding? That thief would rob me blind. No, you can keep him Leonardo. He’s your creation. . . your problem.
L: It’s cold.
M: (aside) I could have this room to myself for my mural. I could work in peace and quiet. If you died I wouldn’t have to share this job and the money with you. If I just walk away and leave you in this cold room on this cold marble floor you’ll die.
L: Maybe I can sit up myself. (struggles to sit)
M: (aside) They would say, ‘isn’t it a shame, Leonardo da Vinci was such a brilliant man. How could he do such a stupid thing? Why would he use such rickety scaffolding? He caused his own death by his poor judgment. It must be because he’s so old.’ (Shakes his head.)
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