“Upon your Faun’s head.”
“And, who are you, Sir, who fancy you have a right to criticise my work?”
“It matters not to you who I am, provided my criticism is just.”
“And who will decide, Sir, which of us two is in the right?”
“I will leave the decision to yourself.”
“Well, Sir, speak,” said Michael Angelo, crossing his arms with an air of defiance.
“Was it not your object to make an old Faun laughing immoderately?”
“Undoubtedly, it is easy to be discovered.”
“Well then,” said the critic, “where did you ever see old men with all their teeth perfect?”
The boy blushed to his eyes, and bit his lip. The observation was correct. He only waited till the individual had turned his back, when with one stroke of his chisel he knocked out two of the Faun’s teeth, and even decided on hollowing out the gum on returning next day. The gardens accordingly were no sooner opened than Michael Angelo entered; but the Faun had disappeared, and in its place stood the person he had seen the preceding day.