And if you choose to buy and sell me, do not so to others.

If you hack me into a thousand pieces, I will do the same, not indeed to yourself, but to what belongs to you.
"Michelangelo Buonarroti.
"Not painter, nor sculptor, nor architect, but what you will, but not a drunkard, as you said at your house." Unfortunately, this is the last of the Del Riccio's letters.

It is very probable that the irascible artist speedily recovered his usual tone, and returned to amity with his old friend.

But Del Riccio departed this life toward the close of this year, 1546.
Before resuming the narrative of Michelangelo's art-work at this period, I must refer to the correspondence which passed between him and King Francis I.The King wrote an epistle in the spring of 1546, requesting some fine monument from the illustrious master's hand.
Michelangelo replied upon the 26th of April, in language of simple and respectful dignity, fine, as coming from an aged artist to a monarch on the eve of death:-- "Sacred Majesty,--I know not which is greater, the favour, or the astonishment it stirs in me, that your Majesty should have deigned to write to a man of my sort, and still more to ask him for things of his which are all unworthy of the name of your Majesty.

But be they what they may, I beg your Majesty to know that for a long while since I have desired to serve you; but not having had an opportunity, owing to your not being in Italy, I have been unable to do so.