The second part of tale from the unbelievable category.

 “How to touch Botticelli?’’

Episode two.

Hi pal! Ginger cat Charlie returns.

 I slipped onto the town hall window ledge to avoid the mob and observe everything.

 To get on this ledge, I had to battle neighborhood cats, who, with astonished muzzles, gave way to me in the center.

On the other wall, I saw a sizeable pedestal surrounded by scaffolding. 

A sturdy beam with a rope-throwing wheel stretched over the uppermost frame. 

Sharp noises came from the right side of the plaza. It appeared that muleteers were screaming.

As the crowd separated, we watched six mules pull a big wagon with a roped sculpture into the Piazza della Signoria.

 A lively, bearded man with piercing eyes led the march. The bearded man—Michelangelo Buonarroti, as everyone guessed—stopped at the right edge and demanded another step to the left, screwing up his left eye.

 Everyone knows you can't look away from the fire waterfall, and when intelligent people work. Installing a giant sculpture in front of a growing audience was the most thrilling part.

 Despite the team's coordination, the hoarse Michelangelo controlled every action.

 At one moment, the rope pullers were undoubtedly exhausted, and the statue halted and slipped down; the crowd gasped as one, but many muscular males who jumped up from the group raced to aid, and the beautiful David began to climb effortlessly.

 Naturally, everyone assumed it was the Buonarotti ''David'' monument.

 Work continued all day.

I spotted one of Michelangelo's renowned compatriots, an overly emotional Sanzio Raphael, in front of and close to him. He gripped his head or nervously chewed his nails, but he couldn't help admiring Michelangelo's mobility.

 Leonardo da Vinci stood far from Raphael and folded his weary hands on his breast, watching everything with undisguised attention as if respecting Bunarotti.

 Artist Sandro Botticelli constantly smiled and observed with kindness. 

Workers demolished a scaffold before dusk. The crew was exhausted, but Bounarotti continued to wink at the front row with hands on his hips and a smirk. Fanfare from the town hall balcony made everyone look around and kneel. Lorenzo de Medici crossed the crowd and bowed to Michelangelo Buonarroti with pride.

 A flight of doves fluttered into the sunset as the audience cheered. Florence got another present from her distinguished compatriots.

I joyfully joined the mob and beat my paw on the cat's right head. He replied by squinting and smiling.

Hi, folks. I have something to say now that Nik is here.

 The tale of my wife's Botticelli Venus painting is different. We stood before Botticelli's Venus at Florence's Ufizzi Gallery that day.

 A melancholy grin surprised Elena.

This joyless grin underlined the simple concept of a woman's always-brutal fate. Botticelli's plan is similar to a woman's birth for love.

 Elena then painted a portrait of Venus, depicting women's fantasies in blue tones on the left and Venus's actual reality in grey tones with all the traits of a modern woman on the right.