[Illustration: FIG. 83.--FROM THE EASTERN GATES. _Showing compartments 6, 8, and 10._]
Donatello was very angry at this, and exclaimed, "It is easier to criticise than to execute; do you take a piece of wood and make a better crucifix!" Brunelleschi determined to do this, and when his work was finished he invited Donatello to sup with him. He placed the crucifix in a conspicuous place in his house, and then took Donatello with him to the market to buy their food. He gave the parcels to Donatello, and asked him to go before to the house, saying that he would soon follow. When Donatello entered and saw the crucifix he was so delighted at the sight that he forgot everything else, and dropped the eggs, cheese, and all on the floor, and stood gazing at the carving as motionless as if he were a statue himself. When Brunelleschi came he said, "What are we to do now? You have spoiled all the dinner!"
"I have had dinner enough for to-day," replied Donatello. "You may have a better appetite. To you, I confess, belongs the power of carving the figure of Christ; to me that of representing day-laborers."
This famous crucifix by Brunelleschi is now in the Gondi Chapel of the Church of Santa Maria Novella; that by Donatello is in the chapel of Saints Ludovico and Bartolommeo in the Church of Santa Croce.
The Annunciation cut from sandstone, which is in Santa Croce, is one of his earliest works, and is full of grace and nobleness (Fig. 84). He made some beautiful groups of dancing children, which are now in the Uffizi Gallery; but he considered his David, which is in the same gallery, as his masterpiece. He was so proud of it that he swore by it, saying, "By the faith I have in my Zuccone!" This word means bald-head, and had come to be used as the usual name for the David.
[Illustration: FIG. 84.--THE ANNUNCIATION. _By Donatello._]
But in spite of his liking for the David, it is generally thought that his St. George, on the exterior of the Church of Or San Michele, is far better. The German art-writer Grimm thus speaks of this work: "What a man is the St. George in the niche of the Church of Or San Michele! He stands there in complete armor, sturdily, with his legs somewhat striding apart, resting on both with equal weight, as if he meant to stand so that no power could move him from his post. Straight before him he holds up his high shield; both hands touch its edge, partly for the sake of holding it, partly in order to rest on it; the eyes and brows are full of expectant boldness.... We approach this St. George, and the mere artistic interest is transformed suddenly into a more lively sympathy with the person of the master.... Who is it, we ask, who has placed such a man there, so ready for battle?" (Fig. 85.)