Following the sound she found the little Italian errand-boy busily uncovering a clay model which stood in the middle of a scantily furnished room near by . `` He is not here ; come and look ; it is greatly beautiful , '' cried Giovanni , beckoning with an air of importance . Psyche did look and speedily forgot both her errand and herself . It was the figure of a man , standing erect , and looking straight before him with a wonderfully lifelike expression . It was neither a mythological nor a historical character , Psyche thought , and was glad of it , being tired to death of gods and heroes . She soon ceased to wonder what it was , feeling only the indescribable charm of something higher than beauty . Small as her knowledge was , she could see and enjoy the power visible in every part of it ; the accurate anatomy of the vigorous limbs , the grace of the pose , the strength and spirit in the countenance , clay though it was . A majestic figure , but the spell lay in the face , which , while it suggested the divine , was full of human truth and tenderness , for pain and passion seemed to have passed over it , and a humility half pathetic , a courage half heroic seemed to have been born from some great loss or woe . How long she stood there Psyche did not know . Giovanni went away unseen , to fill his water-pail , and in the silence she just stood and looked . Her eyes kindled , her color rose , despondency and discontent vanished , and her soul was in her face , for she loved beauty passionately , and all that was best and truest in her did honor to the genius of the unknown worker . `` If I could do a thing like that , I 'd die happy ! '' she exclaimed impetuously , as a feeling of despair came over her at the thought of her own poor attempts . `` Who did it , Giovanni ? '' she asked , still looking up at the grand face with unsatisfied eyes . `` Paul Gage . '' It was not the boy 's voice , and , with a start , Psyche turned to see her Michael Angelo , standing in the doorway , attentively observing her . Being too full of artless admiration to think of herself just yet , she neither blushed nor apologized , but looked straight at him , saying heartily , -- `` You have done a wonderful piece of work , and I envy you more than I can tell ! '' The enthusiasm in her face , the frankness of her manner , seemed to please him , for there was no affectation about either . He gave her a keen , kind glance out of the `` fine gray eyes , '' a little bow , and a grateful smile , saying quietly , -- `` Then my Adam is not a failure in spite of his fall ? ''
Psyche turned from the sculptor to his model with increased admiration in her face , and earnestness in her voice , as she exclaimed delighted , -- `` XXXXX !
Adam Angelo Gage Giovanni Italian discontent glance limbs manner water-pail