The Agony and the Ecstasy Page #4

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That I hunger for personal fame?

You have always misunderstood me,

Buonarroti.

I am not the Borgia.

I seek honor for the Church,

not for myself.

And I will use art as I use the sword,

for the glory of the Faith.

I will build a new St. Peter's which

will become the first church...

in Christendom, the true house of

God and the center of our faith.

That much is clearly my duty...

even though Bramante may bankrupt

me before he is finished.

How many men are at

work on the foundations?

- Two thousand, Holiness.

- Two thousand.

I could have used such an army

in the siege of Bologna.

But the tomb.

The tomb.

What purpose is served

by the tomb?

Is my new cathedral to be nothing

but a setting for a sculpture group?

And in the center of the nave,

under the dome?

Do I not run the risk of

seeming vainglorious...

when all men know that

I am humble and meek?

Yes, meek. Besides, Buonarroti,

by my calculation...

you could not complete the work in

less than a hundred and sixty years.

And there's the cost.

If I allowed you to continue...

I should become

doubly bankrupt.

No, we will forget about my tomb.

For the time being, at least.

Do I have Your Holiness's

permission to return to Florence?

No. I told you I had work

for you! Come!

This chapel is very

dear to my heart.

As you know, it was built

by my uncle, Pope Sixtus.

That is why it is

called the Sistine.

What is your opinion

of the architecture?

Now the truth, Buonarroti.

The architecture? It has no more

architecture than a cow barn.

Bramante agrees with you.

In this, if nothing else.

And do you think it's proper for

your pontiff to conduct Mass...

in a barn fit only

for stabling cattle?

I am no judge of what's

proper for a pontiff.

Why this sudden modesty,

Buonarroti?

Then we agree that something

must be done.

Bramante wants to pull it

down and build a new chapel.

Bramante is very fond

of pulling things down.

But I have a better solution.

Better, less destructive...

and cheaper.

My son, I have decided to honor you

above all the painting master of Italy.

Painting masters?

You will correct the clumsiness,

of my uncle's architects.

Your commission is

to decorate the ceiling.

But your Holy Father,

I am a sculptor, not a painter!

Buonarroti! This new modesty

of yours is becoming a disease.

Did you not study the art

of fresco painting...

...under the great Ghirlandaio?

- Yes!

Did you not paint a Holy Family

for an obscure Florentine banker?

- That was just a diversion. This...

- And was not your fresco judged...

superior even to the panel

of Leonardo da Vinci?

- Florence is my city, Holiness!

- And I am your pontiff, Buonarroti!

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