A few steps more took me to the Martelli Chapel, and, opening an inconspicuous door, I passed out into the cloister. It was a relief for the moment to breathe the soft air and to find myself in the presence of nature after the tenseness that came from standing before such masterpieces of man. Maurice Hewlett had prepared me for the “great, mildewed cloister with a covered-in walk all around it, built on arches. In the middle a green garth with cypresses and yews dotted about; when you look up, the blue sky cut square and the hot tiles of a huge dome staring up into it.”
From the cloister I climbed an ancient stone staircase and found myself at the foot of one of the most famous stairways in the world. At that moment I did not stop to realize how famous it was, for my mind had turned again on books, and I was intent on reaching the Library itself. At the top of the stairway I paused for a moment at the entrance to the great hall, the Sala di Michelangiolo. At last I was face to face with the Laurenziana!
SALA DI MICHELANGIOLO
Laurenziana Library, Florence
Before I had completed my general survey of the room, an attendant greeted me courteously, and when I presented my letter of introduction to the librarian he bowed low and led me the length of the hall. The light came into the room through beautiful stained-glass windows, bearing the Medici arms and the cipher of Giulio de’ Medici, later Pope Clement VII, surrounded by arabesque Renaissance designs. We passed between the plutei, those famous carved reading-desks designed by Michelangelo. As we walked down the aisle, the pattern of the nutwood ceiling seemed reflected on the brick floor, so cleverly was the design reproduced in painted bricks. Gradually I became impressed by the immense size of the room, which before I had not felt because the proportions are so perfect.
Doctor Guido Biagi, who was at that time librarian, was seated at one of the plutei, studying a Medicean illuminated manuscript fastened to the desk by one of the famous old chains (see page [14]). He was a Tuscan of medium height, rather heavily built, with full beard, high forehead, and kindly, alert eyes. The combination of his musical Italian voice, his eyes, and his appealing smile, made me feel at home at once. Letters of introduction such as mine were every-day affairs with him, and no doubt he expected, as did I, to have our meeting result in a few additional courtesies beyond what the tourist usually receives, and then that each would go his way. I little realized, as I presented my letter, that this meeting was to be so significant,—that the man whose hand I clasped was to become my closest friend, and that through him the Laurenziana Library was to be for me a sanctuary.
Dott. Comm. GUIDO BIAGI in 1924
Librarian of the Laurenziana Library, Florence