Chapter VIII: Part 8

Then followed the twentieth car, of Bacchus, likewise shaped with singular artistry and with novel and truly most fanciful and bizarre invention; and it was seen in the form of a very graceful little ship all overlaid with silver, which was balanced in such wise upon a great base that had the true and natural appearance of the cerulean sea, that at the slightest movement it was seen, with extraordinary pleasure for the spectators, to roll from side to side in the very manner of a real ship upon the real sea. In it, besides the merry and laughing Bacchus, attired in the usual manner and set in the most commanding place, there were seen in company with Maron, King of Thrace, some Bacchantes and some Satyrs all merry and joyful, sounding various cymbals and other suchlike instruments; and since, as it were, from a part of that happy ship there rose an abundant fount of bright and foaming wine, they were seen not only drinking the wine very often from various cups, with much rejoicing, but also with the licence that wine induces inviting the bystanders to drink and sing in their company. In place of a mast, also, the little ship had a great thyrsus wreathed in vine-leaves, which supported a graceful and swelling sail, upon which, to the end that it might be gladsome and ornate, were seen painted many of those Bacchantes who, so it is said, are wont to run about, drinking and dancing and singing with much licence, over Mount Tmolus, father of the choicest wines. At the foot of the car, then, was seen walking the beautiful Syce, beloved by Bacchus, who had upon the head a garland, and in the hand a branch, of fig; and with her, likewise, was the other love of the same Bacchus, Staphyle by name, who, besides a great vine-branch with many grapes that she carried in the hand, was also seen to have made in no less lovely fashion about her head, with vine-leaves and bunches of similar grapes, a green and graceful garland. After these came the fair and youthful Cissus, also beloved by Bacchus, who, falling by misfortune, was transformed by Mother Earth into ivy, on which account he was seen in a habit all covered with ivy in every part. And behind him was seen coming old Silenus, all naked and bound upon an ass with various garlands of ivy, as if by reason of his drunkenness he were unable to support himself, and carrying attached to his girdle a great wooden cup all worn away; and with him, likewise, came the God of Banquets, called by the ancients Comus, represented in the form of a ruddy, beardless, and most beautiful youth, all crowned with roses, but in aspect so somnolent and languid, that it appeared almost as if the huntsman's boar-spear and the lighted torch that he carried in the hands might fall from them at any moment. There followed with a panther upon the back the old and likewise ruddy and laughing Drunkenness, attired in a red habit, with a great foaming vessel of wine in the hands, and with her the young and merry Laughter; and behind these were seen coming in the garb of shepherds and nymphs two men and two women, followers of Bacchus, crowned and adorned in various ways with various leaves of the vine. And Semele, the mother of Bacchus, all smoky and scorched in memory of the ancient fable, with Narcaeus, the first ordinator of the sacrifices to Bacchus, who had a great he-goat upon his back, and was adorned with antique and shining arms, appeared to form a worthy, appropriate, and gracious end to that glad and festive company.

TWENTY-FIRST AND LAST CAR.

The twenty-first and last car, representing the Roman Mount Janiculum, and drawn by two great white rams, was given to the venerable Janus, figured with two heads, one young and the other old, as is the custom, and holding in the hands a great key and a thin wand, to demonstrate the power over doors and streets that is attributed to him. At the foot of the car was seen coming sacred Religion, attired in white linen vestments, with one of the hands open, and carrying in the other an ancient altar with a burning flame; and on either side of her were the Prayers, represented, as they are described by Homer, in the form of two wrinkled, lame, cross-eyed, and melancholy old women, dressed in draperies of turquoise-blue. After these were seen coming Antevorta and Postvorta, the companions of Divinity, of whom it was believed that the first had power to know whether prayers were or were not to be heard by the Gods; and the second, who rendered account only of the past, was able to say whether prayers had or had not been heard; the first being figured in the comely aspect and habit of a matron, with a lamp and a corn-sieve in the hands, and a head-dress covered with ants upon the head; and the second, clothed in front all in white, and figured with the face of an old woman, was seen to be attired at the back in heavy black draperies, and to have the hair, on the contrary, blonde, curling, and beautiful, such as is generally seen in young and love-compelling women. Then followed that Favour which we seek from the Gods, to the end that our desires may have a happy and fortunate end; and he, although shown in the aspect of a youth, blind and with wings, and with a proud and haughty presence, yet at times appeared timid and trembling because of the rolling wheel upon which he was seen standing, doubting that, as is often seen to happen, at every least turn he might come with great ease to fall from it; and with him was seen Success, or, as we would rather say, the happy end of our enterprises, figured as a gay and lovely youth, holding in one of the hands a cup, and in the other an ear of corn and a poppy. Then there followed, in the form of a virgin crowned with oriental palm, with a star upon the brow and with a branch of the same palm in the hand, Anna Perenna, revered by the ancients as a Goddess, believing that she was able to make the year fortunate, and with her were seen coming two Fetiales with the Roman toga, adorned with garlands of verbenae and with a sow and a stone in the hands, to denote the kind of oath that they were wont to take when they made any declaration for the Roman people. Behind these, then, following the religious ceremonies of war, was seen coming a Roman Consul in the Gabinian and purple toga, and with a spear in the hand, and with him two Roman Senators likewise in the toga, and two soldiers in full armour and with the Roman javelin. And finally, concluding that company and all the others, there followed Money, attired in draperies of yellow, white, and tawny colour, and holding in the hands various instruments for striking coins; the use of which, so it is believed, was first discovered and introduced, as a thing necessary to the human race, by Janus.

Such were the cars and companies of that marvellous masquerade, the like of which was never seen before, and, perchance, will never be seen again in our day. And about it--leaving on one side, as a burden too great for my shoulders, the vast and incomparable praises that would be due to it--there had been marshalled with much judgment six very rich masks in the guise of sergeants, or rather, captains, who, harmonizing very well with the invention of the whole, were seen, according as necessity demanded, running hither and thither and keeping all that long line, which occupied about half a mile of road, advancing in due order with decorum and grace.

Now, drawing near at length to the end of that splendid and most merry Carnival, which would have been much more merry and celebrated with much more splendour, if the inopportune death of Pius IV, which happened a short time before, had not incommoded a good number of very reverend Cardinals and other very illustrious lords from all Italy, who, invited to those most royal nuptials, had made preparations to come; and leaving on one side the rich and lovely inventions without number seen in the separate masks, thanks to the amorous young men, not only in the innumerable banquets and other suchlike entertainments, but wherever they broke a lance or tilted at the ring, now in one place and now in another, and wherever they made similar trial of their dexterity and valour in a thousand other games; and treating only of the last festival, which was seen on the last day, I shall say that although there had been seen the innumerable things, so rare, so rich, and so ingenious, of which mention has been made above, yet this festival, from the pleasing nature of the play, from the richness, emulation and competence shown in it by our craftsmen (some of whom, as always happens, considered themselves surpassed in the things accomplished), and from a certain extravagance and variety in the inventions, some of which appeared beautiful and ingenious, and others ridiculous and clumsy, this one, I say, also displayed an extraordinary and most charming beauty, and likewise gave to the admiring people, amid all that satiety, a pleasure and a delight that were marvellous and perhaps unexpected; and it was a buffalo-race, composed of ten distinct companies, which were distributed, besides those that the Sovereign Princes took for themselves, partly among the lords of the Court and the strangers, and partly among the gentlemen of the city and the two colonies of merchants, the Spanish and the Genoese. First, then, upon the first buffalo that appeared in the appointed place, there was seen coming Wickedness, adorned with great art and judgment, who was shown being chased, goaded and beaten by six cavaliers likewise figured most ingeniously as Scourging, or rather, Scourges. After that, upon the second buffalo, which had the appearance of a lazy ass, was seen coming the old and drunken Silenus, supported by six Bacchants, who were seen striving at the same time to goad and spur the ass; even as upon the third, which had the form of a calf, there was likewise seen coming the ancient Osiris, accompanied by six of the companions or soldiers with whom, it is believed, that Deity travelled over many parts of the world and taught to the still new and barbarous races the cultivation of the fields. Upon the fourth, without any disguise, was placed as on horseback Human Life, likewise chased and goaded by six cavaliers who represented the Years; even as upon the fifth, also without any disguise, was seen coming Fame with the many mouths and with the great wings of desire that are customary, also chased by six cavaliers who resembled Virtue, or the Virtues; which Virtues, so it was said, chasing her, were aspiring to obtain the due and well-deserved reward of honour. Upon the sixth, then, was seen coming a very rich Mercury, who was shown being goaded and urged on no less than the others by six other similar figures of Mercury; and upon the seventh was seen the nurse of Romulus, Acca Laurentia, with six of her Fratres Arvales, who were not only urging her lazy animal to a run with their goads, but seemed almost to have been introduced to keep her company with much fittingness and pomp. Upon the eighth, next, was seen coming with much grace and richness a large and very natural owl, with six cavaliers in the form of bats most natural and marvellously similar to the reality, who with most dexterous horses, goading the buffalo now from one side and now from another, were seen delivering a thousand joyous and most festive assaults. For the ninth, with singular artifice and ingenious illusion, there was seen appearing little by little a Cloud, which, after it had held the eyes of the spectators for some time in suspense, was seen in an instant as it were to part asunder, and from it issued the seafaring Misenus seated upon the buffalo, which at once was seen pursued and pricked by six Tritons adorned in a very rich and most masterly fashion. And for the tenth and last there was seen coming, almost with the same artifice, but in a different and much larger form and in a different colour, another similar Cloud, which, parting asunder in like manner at the appointed place with smoke and flame and a horrible thunder, was seen to have within it infernal Pluto, drawn in his usual car, and from it in a most gracious manner was seen to come forth in place of a buffalo a great and awful Cerberus, who was chased by six of those glorious ancient heroes who are supposed to dwell in peace in the Elysian Fields. All those companies, when they had appeared one by one upon the piazza, and presented the due and gracious spectacle, and after a long breaking of lances, a great caracoling of horses, and a thousand other suchlike games, with which the fair ladies and the multitude of spectators were entertained for a good time, finally made their way to the place where the buffaloes were to be set to race. And there, the trumpet having sounded, and each company striving that its buffalo should arrive at the appointed goal before the others, and now one prevailing and now another, all of a sudden, when they were come within a certain distance of the place, all the air about them was seen filled with terror and alarm from the great and deafening fires that smote them now on one side and now on another, in a thousand strange fashions, insomuch that very often it was seen to happen that one who at the beginning had been nearest to winning the coveted prize, the timid and not very obedient animal taking fright at the noise, the smoke, and the fires above described, which, in proportion as one went ahead, became ever greater and assailed that one with ever greater vehemence, so that the animals turned in various directions, and very often took to headlong flight--it was seen many times, I say, that the first were constrained to return among the last; while the confusion of men, buffaloes, and horses, and the lightning-flashes, noises, and thunderings, produced a strange, novel, and incomparable pleasure and delight. And thus with that spectacle was finally contrived a splendid, although for many perhaps disturbing, conclusion of the joyous and most festive Carnival.

In the first and holy days of the following Lent, with the thought of pleasing the most devout bride, but also with truly extraordinary pleasure for the whole people, who, having been deprived of such things for many years, and part of the fragile apparatus having been lost, feared that they would never be resumed, there was held the festival, so famous and so celebrated in olden days, of S. Felice, so-called from the church where it used formerly to be represented. But this time, besides that which their Excellencies, our Lords, themselves deigned to do, it was represented at the pains and expense of four of the principal and most ingenious gentlemen of the city in the Church of S. Spirito, as a place more capacious and more beautiful, with a vast apparatus of machinery and all the old instruments and not a few newly added. In it, besides many Prophets and Sibyls who, singing in the simple ancient manner, announced the coming of Our Lord Jesus Christ, very notable--nay, marvellous, stupendous, and incomparable, from its having been contrived in those ignorant ages--was the Paradise, which, opening in an instant, was seen filled with all the hierarchies of the Angels and of the Saints both male and female, and with various movements representing its different spheres, and as it were sending down to earth the Divine Gabriel shining with infinite splendour, in the midst of eight other little Angels, to bring the Annunciation to the Glorious Virgin, who was seen waiting in her chamber, all humble and devout; all being let down (and reascending afterwards), to the rare marvel of everyone, from the highest part of the cupola of that church, where the above-described Paradise was figured, down to the floor of the chamber of the Virgin, which was not raised any great height from the ground, and all with such security and by methods so beautiful, so facile, and so ingenious, that it appeared scarcely possible that the human brain was able to go so far. And with this the festivities all arranged by our most excellent Lords for those most royal nuptials had a conclusion not only renowned and splendid, but also, as was right fitting for true Christian Princes, religious and devout.

Many things, also, could have been told of a very noble spectacle presented by the most liberal Signor Paolo Giordano Orsino, Duke of Bracciano, in a great and most heroic theatre, all suspended in the air, which was constructed by him of woodwork in those days with royal spirit and incredible expense; and in it, with very rich inventions of the Knights Challengers, of whom he was one, and of the Knights Adventurers, there was fought with various arms a combat for a barrier, and there was performed with beautifully trained horses, to the rare delight of the spectators, the graceful dance called the Battaglia. But this, being hindered by inopportune rains, was prolonged over many days; and since, seeking to treat of it at any length, it would require almost an entire work, being now weary, I believe that I may be pardoned if without saying more of it I bring this my long--I know not whether to call it tedious--labour, at length to an end.

GIORGIO VASARI

DESCRIPTION OF THE WORKS OF GIORGIO VASARI

PAINTER AND ARCHITECT OF AREZZO

Having discoursed hitherto of the works of others, with the greatest diligence and sincerity that my brain has been able to command, I also wish at the end of these my labours to assemble together and make known to the world the works that the Divine Goodness in its grace has enabled me to execute, for the reason that, if indeed they are not of that perfection which I might wish, it will yet be seen by him who may consent to look at them with no jaundiced eye that they have been wrought by me with study, diligence, and loving labour, and are therefore worthy, if not of praise, at least of excuse; besides which, being out in the world and open to view, I cannot hide them. And since perchance at some time they might be described by some other person, it is surely better that I should confess the truth, and of myself accuse my imperfection, which I know only too well, being assured of this, that if, as I said, there may not be seen in them the perfection of excellence, there will be perceived at least an ardent desire to work well, great and indefatigable effort, and the extraordinary love that I bear to our arts. Wherefore it may come about that, according to the law, myself confessing openly my own deficiencies, I shall be in great part pardoned.

To begin, then, with my earliest years, let me say that, having spoken sufficiently of the origin of my family, of my birth and childhood, and how I was set by Antonio, my father, with all manner of lovingness on the path of the arts, and in particular that of design, to which he saw me much inclined, with good occasions in the Life of Luca Signorelli of Cortona, my kinsman, in that of Francesco Salviati, and in many other places in the present work, I shall not proceed to repeat the same things. But I must relate that after having drawn in my first years all the good pictures that are about the churches of Arezzo, the first rudiments were taught to me with some method by the Frenchman Guglielmo da Marcilla, whose life and works we have described above. Then, having been taken to Florence in the year 1524 by Silvio Passerini, Cardinal of Cortona, I gave some little attention to design under Michelagnolo, Andrea del Sarto, and others. But the Medici having been driven from Florence in the year 1527, and in particular Alessandro and Ippolito, with whom, young as I was, I had a strait attachment of service through the said Cardinal, my paternal uncle Don Antonio made me return to Arezzo, where a short time before my father had died of plague; which Don Antonio, keeping me at a distance from the city lest I might be infected by the plague, was the reason that I, to avoid idleness, went about exercising my hand throughout the district of Arezzo, near our parts, painting some things in fresco for the peasants of the countryside, although as yet I had scarcely ever touched colours; in doing which I learned that to try your hand and work by yourself is helpful and instructive, and enables you to gain excellent practice. In the year afterwards, 1528, the plague being finished, the first work that I executed was a little altar-picture for the Church of S. Piero, of the Servite Friars, at Arezzo; and in that picture, which is placed against a pilaster, are three half-length figures, S. Agatha, S. Rocco, and S. Sebastian. Being seen by Rosso, a very famous painter, who came in those days to Arezzo, it came about that he, recognizing in it something of the good taken from Nature, desired to know me, and afterwards assisted me with designs and counsel. Nor was it long before by his means M. Lorenzo Gamurrini gave me an altar-picture to execute, for which Rosso made me the design; and I then painted it with all the study, labour, and diligence that were possible to me, in order to learn and to acquire something of a name. And if my powers had equalled my good will, I would have soon become a passing good painter, so much I studied and laboured at the things of art; but I found the difficulties much greater than I had judged at the beginning.

However, not losing heart, I returned to Florence, where, perceiving that I could not save only after a long time become such as to be able to assist the three sisters and two younger brothers left to me by my father, I placed myself with a goldsmith. But not for long, because in the year 1529, the enemy having come against Florence, I went off with the goldsmith Manno, who was very much my friend, to Pisa, where, setting aside the goldsmith's craft, I painted in fresco the arch that is over the door of the old Company of the Florentines, and some pictures in oils, which were given to me to execute by means of Don Miniato Pitti, at that time Abbot of Agnano without the city of Pisa, and of Luigi Guicciardini, who was then in that city. Then, the war growing every day more general, I resolved to return to Arezzo; but, not being able to go by the direct and ordinary road, I made my way by the mountains of Modena to Bologna. There, finding that some triumphal arches were being decorated in painting for the coronation of Charles V, young as I was I obtained some work, which brought me honour and profit; and since I drew passing well, I would have found means to live and work there. But the desire that I had to revisit my family and other relatives brought it about that, having found good company, I returned to Arezzo, where, finding my affairs in a good state after the diligent care taken of them by the above-named Don Antonio, my uncle, I settled down with a quiet mind and applied myself to design, executing also some little things in oils of no great importance. Meanwhile the above-named Don Miniato Pitti was made Abbot or Prior, I know not which, of S. Anna, a monastery of Monte Oliveto in the territory of Siena, and he sent for me; and so I made for him and for Albenga, their General, some pictures and other works in painting. Then, the same man having been made Abbot of S. Bernardo in Arezzo, I painted for him two pictures in oils of Job and Moses on the balustrade of the organ. And since the work pleased those monks, they commissioned me to paint some pictures in fresco--namely, the four Evangelists--on the vaulting and walls of a portico before the principal door of the church, with God the Father on the vaulting, and some other figures large as life; in which, although as a youth of little experience I did not do all that one more practised would have done, nevertheless I did all that I could, and work which pleased those fathers, having regard for my small experience and age. But scarcely had I finished that work when Cardinal Ippolito de' Medici, passing through Arezzo by post, took me away to Rome to serve him, as has been related in the Life of Salviati; and there, by the courtesy of that lord, I had facilities to attend for many months to the study of design. And I could say with truth that those facilities and my studies at that time were my true and principal master in my art, although before that those named above had assisted me not a little; and there had not gone from my heart the ardent desire to learn, and the untiring zeal to be always drawing night and day. There was also of great benefit to me in those days the competition of my young contemporaries and companions, who have since become for the most part very excellent in our art. Nor was it otherwise than a very sharp spur to me to have such a desire of glory, and to see many who had proved themselves very rare, and had risen to honour and rank; so that I used to say to myself at times: "Why should it not be in my power to obtain by assiduous study and labour some of that grandeur and rank that so many others have acquired? They, also, were of flesh and bones, as I am."

Urged on, therefore, by so many sharp spurs, and by seeing how much need my family had of me, I disposed myself never to shrink from any fatigue, discomfort, vigil, and toil, in order to achieve that end; and, having thus resolved in my mind, there remained nothing notable at that time in Rome, or afterwards in Florence, and in other places where I dwelt, that I did not draw in my youth, and not pictures only, but also sculptures and architectural works ancient and modern. And besides the proficience that I made in drawing the vaulting and chapel of Michelagnolo, there remained nothing of Raffaello, Polidoro, and Baldassarre da Siena, that I did not likewise draw in company with Francesco Salviati, as has been told already in his Life. And to the end that each of us might have drawings of everything, during the day the one would not draw the same things as the other, but different, and then at night we used to copy each other's drawings, so as to save time and extend our studies; not to mention that more often than not we ate our morning meal standing up, and little at that. After which incredible labour, the first work that issued from my hands, as from my own forge, was a great picture with figures large as life, of a Venus with the Graces adorning and beautifying her, which Cardinal de' Medici caused me to paint; but of that picture there is no need to speak, because it was the work of a lad, nor would I touch on it, save that it is dear to me to remember still these first beginnings and many upward steps of my apprenticeship in the arts. Enough that that lord and others gave me to believe that there was in it a certain something of a good beginning and of a lively and resolute spirit. And since among other things I had made therein to please my fancy a lustful Satyr who, standing hidden amid some bushes, was rejoicing and feasting himself on the sight of Venus and the Graces nude, that so pleased the Cardinal that he had me clothed anew from head to foot, and then gave orders that I should paint in a larger picture, likewise in oils, the battle of the Satyrs with the Fauns, Sylvan Gods, and children, forming a sort of Bacchanal; whereupon, setting to work, I made the cartoon and then sketched in the canvas in colours, which was ten braccia long. Having then to depart in the direction of Hungary, the Cardinal made me known to Pope Clement and left me to the protection of his Holiness, who gave me into the charge of Signor Jeronimo Montaguto, his Chamberlain, with letters authorizing that, if I might wish to fly from the air of Rome that summer, I should be received in Florence by Duke Alessandro; which it would have been well for me to do, because, choosing after all to stay in Rome, what with the heat, the air, and my fatigue, I fell sick in such sort that in order to be restored I was forced to have myself carried by litter to Arezzo. Finally, however, being well again, about the 10th of the following December I came to Florence, where I was received by the above-named Duke with kindly mien, and shortly afterwards given into the charge of the magnificent M. Ottaviano de' Medici, who so took me under his protection, that as long as he lived he treated me always as a son; and his blessed memory I shall always remember and revere, as of a most affectionate father. Returning then to my usual studies, I received facilities by means of that lord to enter at my pleasure into the new sacristy of S. Lorenzo, where are the works of Michelagnolo, he having gone in those days to Rome; and so I studied them for some time with much diligence, just as they were on the ground. Then, setting myself to work, I painted in a picture of three braccia a Dead Christ carried to the Sepulchre by Nicodemus, Joseph, and others, and behind them the Maries weeping; which picture, when it was finished, was taken by Duke Alessandro. And it was a good and auspicious beginning for my labours, for the reason that not only did he hold it in account as long as he lived, but it has been ever since in the chamber of Duke Cosimo, and is now in that of the most illustrious Prince, his son; and although at times I have desired to set my hand upon it again, in order to improve it in some parts, I have not been allowed. Duke Alessandro, then, having seen this my first work, ordained that I should finish the ground-floor room in the Palace of the Medici which had been left incomplete, as has been related, by Giovanni da Udine. Whereupon I painted there four stories of the actions of Caesar; his swimming with the Commentaries in one hand and a sword in the mouth, his causing the writings of Pompeius to be burned in order not to see the works of his enemies, his revealing himself to a helmsman while tossed by fortune on the sea, and, finally, his triumph; but this last was not completely finished. During which time, although I was but little more than eighteen years of age, the Duke gave me a salary of six crowns a month, a place at table for myself and a servant, and rooms to live in, with many other conveniences. And although I knew that I was very far from deserving so much, yet I did all that I could with diligence and lovingness, nor did I shrink from asking from my elders whatever I did not know myself; wherefore on many occasions I was assisted with counsel and with work by Tribolo, Bandinelli, and others. I painted, then, in a picture three braccia high, Duke Alessandro himself in armour, portrayed from life, with a new invention in a seat formed of captives bound together, and with other fantasies. And I remember that besides the portrait, which was a good likeness, in seeking to make the burnished surface of the armour bright, shining, and natural, I was not very far from losing my wits, so much did I exert myself in copying every least thing from the reality. However, despairing to be able to approach to the truth in the work, I took Jacopo da Pontormo, whom I revered for his great ability, to see it and to advise me; and he, having seen the picture and perceived my agony, said to me lovingly: "My son, as long as this real lustrous armour stands beside the picture, your armour will always appear to you as painted, for, although lead-white is the most brilliant pigment that art employs, the iron is yet more brilliant and lustrous. Take away the real armour, and you will then see that your counterfeit armour is not such poor stuff as you think it."

That picture, when it was finished, I gave to the Duke, and the Duke presented it to M. Ottaviano de' Medici, in whose house it has been up to the present day, in company with the portrait of Caterina, the then young sister of the Duke, and afterwards Queen of France, and that of the Magnificent Lorenzo, the Elder. And in the same house are three pictures also by my hand and executed in my youth; in one is Abraham sacrificing Isaac, in the second Christ in the Garden, and in the third His Supper with the Apostles. Meanwhile Cardinal Ippolito died, in whom was centred the sum of all my hopes, and I began to recognize how vain generally are the hopes of this world, and that a man must trust mostly in himself and in being of some account. After these works, perceiving that the Duke was all given over to fortifications and to building, I began, the better to be able to serve him, to give attention to matters of architecture, and spent much time upon them. But meanwhile, festive preparations having to be made in Florence in the year 1536 for receiving the Emperor Charles V, the Duke, in giving orders for that, commanded the deputies charged with the care of those pomps, as has been related in the Life of Tribolo, that they should have me with them to design all the arches and other ornaments to be made for that entry. Which done, there was allotted to me for my benefit, besides the great banners of the castle and fortress, as has been told, the facade in the manner of a triumphal arch that was constructed at S. Felice in Piazza, forty braccia high and twenty wide, and then the ornamentation of the Porta a S. Piero Gattolini; works all great and beyond my strength. And, what was worse, those favours having drawn down upon me a thousand envious thoughts, about twenty men who were helping me to do the banners and the other labours left me nicely in the lurch, at the persuasion of one person or another, to the end that I might not be able to execute works so many and of such importance. But I, who had foreseen the malice of such creatures (to whom I had always sought to give assistance), partly labouring with my own hand day and night, and partly aided by painters brought in from without, who helped me secretly, attended to my business, and strove to conquer all such difficulties and treacheries by means of the works themselves. During that time Bertoldo Corsini, who was then proveditor-general to his Excellency, had reported to the Duke that I had undertaken to do so many things that it would never be possible for me to have them finished in time, particularly because I had no men and the works were much in arrears. Whereupon the Duke sent for me, and told me what he had heard; and I answered that my works were well advanced, as his Excellency might see at his pleasure, and that the end would do credit to the whole. Then I went away, and no long time passed before he came secretly to where I was working, and, having seen everything, recognized in part the envy and malice of those who were pressing upon me without having any cause. The time having come when everything was to be in order, I had finished my works to the last detail and set them in their places, to the great satisfaction of the Duke and of all the city; whereas those of some who had thought more of my business than of their own, were set in place unfinished. When the festivities were over, besides four hundred crowns that were paid to me for my work, the Duke gave me three hundred that were taken away from those who had not carried their works to completion by the appointed time, according as had been arranged by agreement. And with those earnings and donations I married one of my sisters, and shortly afterwards settled another as a nun in the Murate at Arezzo, giving to the convent besides the dowry, or rather, alms, an altar-picture of the Annunciation by my hand, with a Tabernacle of the Sacrament accommodated in that picture, which was placed within their choir, where they perform their offices. Having then received from the Company of the Corpus Domini, at Arezzo, the commission for the altar-piece of the high-altar of S. Domenico, I painted in it Christ taken down from the Cross; and shortly afterwards I began for the Company of S. Rocco the altar-picture of their church, in Florence.

Now, while I was going on winning for myself honour, name, and wealth under the protection of Duke Alessandro, that poor lord was cruelly murdered, and there was snatched away from me all hope of that which I was promising to myself from Fortune by means of his favour; wherefore, having been robbed within a few years of Clement, Ippolito, and Alessandro, I resolved at the advice of M. Ottaviano that I would never again follow the fortune of Courts, but only art, although it would have been easy to establish myself with Signor Cosimo de' Medici, the new Duke. And so, while carrying forward in Arezzo the above-named altar-picture and the facade of S. Rocco, with the ornament, I was making preparations to go to Rome, when by means of M. Giovanni Pollastra--and by the will of God, to whom I have always commended myself, and to whom I attribute and have always attributed my every blessing--I was invited to Camaldoli, the centre of the Camaldolese Congregation, by the fathers of that hermitage, to see that which they were designing to have done in their church. Arriving there, I found supreme pleasure in the Alpine and eternal solitude and quietness of that holy place; and although I became aware at the first moment that those fathers of venerable aspect were beside themselves at seeing me so young, I took heart and talked to them to such purpose, that they resolved that they would avail themselves of my hand in the many pictures in oils and in fresco that were to be painted in their church of Camaldoli. Now, while they wished that before any other thing I should execute the picture of the high-altar, I proved to them with good reasons that it was better to paint first one of the lesser pictures, which were going in the tramezzo,[2] and that, having finished it, if it should please them, I would be able to continue. Besides that, I would not make any fixed agreement with them as to money, but said that if my work, when finished, were to please them, they might pay me for it as they chose, and, if it did not please them, they might return it to me, and I would keep it for myself most willingly; which condition appearing to them only too honest and loving, they were content that I should set my hand to the work. They said to me, then, that they wished to have in it Our Lady with her Son in her arms, and S. John the Baptist and S. Jerome, who were both hermits and lived in woods and forests; and I departed from the hermitage and made my way down to their Abbey of Camaldoli, where, having made a design with great rapidity, which pleased them, I began the altar-piece, and in two months had it completely finished and set in place, to the great satisfaction of those fathers, as they gave me to understand, and of myself. And in that period of two months I proved how much more one is assisted in studies by sweet tranquillity and honest solitude than by the noises of public squares and courts; I recognized, I say, my error in having in the past placed my hopes in men and in the follies and intrigues of this world. That altar-picture finished, then, they allotted to me straightway the rest of the tramezzo[3] of the church--namely, the scenes and other things in fresco-work to be painted there both high and low, which I was to execute during the following summer, for the reason that in the winter it would be scarcely possible to work in fresco at that altitude, among those mountains.

[Footnote 2: See note on p. 57, Vol. I.]

[Footnote 3: See note on p. 57, Vol. I.]

Meanwhile I returned to Arezzo and finished the altar-picture for S. Rocco, painting in it Our Lady, six Saints, and a God the Father with some thunderbolts in the hand, representing the pestilence, which He is in the act of hurling down, but S. Rocco and other Saints make intercession for the people. And in the facade are many figures in fresco, which, like the altar-picture, are no better than they should be. Then Fra Bartolommeo Gratiani, a friar of S. Agostino in Monte Sansovino, sent to invite me to Val di Caprese, and commissioned me to execute a great altar-piece in oils for the high-altar of the Church of S. Agostino in that same Monte Sansovino. And after we had come to an agreement, I made my way to Florence to see M. Ottaviano, where, staying several days, I had much ado to prevent myself from re-entering the service of the Court, as I was minded not to do. However, by advancing good reasons I won the battle, and I resolved that by hook or by crook, before doing anything else, I would go to Rome. But in that I did not succeed until I had made for that same Messer Ottaviano a copy of the picture in which formerly Raffaello da Urbino had portrayed Pope Leo, Cardinal Giulio de' Medici, and Cardinal de' Rossi, for the Duke was claiming the original, which was then in the possession of Messer Ottaviano; and the copy that I made is now in the house of the heirs of that lord, who on my departure for Rome wrote me a letter of exchange for five hundred crowns on Giovan Battista Puccini, which he was to pay me on demand, and said to me: "Use this money to enable you to attend to your studies, and afterwards, when you find it convenient, you can return it to me either in work or in cash, just as you please." Arriving in Rome, then, in February of the year 1538, I stayed there until the end of June, giving my attention in company with Giovan Battista Cungi of the Borgo, my assistant, to drawing all that I had left not drawn the other times that I had been in Rome, and particularly everything that was in the underground grottoes. Nor did I leave anything either in architecture or in sculpture that I did not draw and measure, insomuch that I can say with truth that the drawings that I made in that space of time were more than three hundred; and for many years afterwards I found pleasure and advantage in examining them, refreshing the memory of the things of Rome. And how much those labours and studies benefited me, was seen after my return to Tuscany in the altar-picture that I executed at Monte Sansovino, in which I painted with a somewhat better manner the Assumption of Our Lady, and at the foot, besides the Apostles who are about the sepulchre, S. Augustine and S. Romualdo. Having then gone to Camaldoli, according as I had promised those eremite fathers, I painted in the other altar-piece of the tramezzo[4] the Nativity of Jesus Christ, representing a night illumined by the Splendour of the newborn Christ, who is surrounded by some Shepherds adoring Him; in doing which, I strove to imitate with colours the rays of the sun, and copied the figures and all the other things in that work from Nature and in the proper light, to the end that they might be as similar as possible to the reality. Then, since that light could not pass above the hut, from there upwards and all around I availed myself of a light that comes from the splendour of the Angels that are in the air, singing Gloria in Excelsis Deo; not to mention that in certain places the Shepherds that are around make light with burning sheaves of straw, and also the Moon and the Star, and the Angel that is appearing to certain Shepherds. For the building, then, I made some antiquities after my own fancy, with broken statues and other things of that kind. In short, I executed that work with all my power and knowledge, and although I did not satisfy with the hand and the brush my great desire and eagerness to work supremely well, nevertheless the picture has pleased many; wherefore Messer Fausto Sabeo, a man of great learning who was then custodian of the Pope's Library, and some others after him, wrote many Latin verses in praise of that picture, moved perhaps more by affectionate feeling than by the excellence of the work. Be that as it may, if there be in it anything of the good, it was the gift of God. That altar-picture finished, those fathers resolved that I should paint in fresco on the facade the stories that were to be there, whereupon I painted over the door a picture of the hermitage, with S. Romualdo and a Doge of Venice who was a saintly man on one side, and on the other a vision which the above-named Saint had in that place where he afterwards made his hermitage; with some fantasies, grotesques, and other things that are to be seen there. Which done, they ordained that I should return in the summer of the following year to execute the picture of the high-altar.

[Footnote 4: See note on p. 57, Vol. I.]

Meanwhile the above-named Don Miniato Pitti, who was then Visitor to the Congregation of Monte Oliveto, having seen the altar-picture of Monte Sansovino and the works of Camaldoli, and finding in Bologna the Florentine Don Filippo Serragli, Abbot of S. Michele in Bosco, said to him that, since the refectory of that honoured monastery was to be painted, it appeared to him that the work should be allotted to me and not to another. Being therefore summoned to go to Bologna, I undertook to do it, although it was a great and important work; but first I desired to see all the most famous works in painting that were in that city, both by Bolognese and by others. The work of the head-wall of that refectory was divided into three pictures; in one was to be when Abraham prepared food for the Angels in the Valley of Mamre, in the second Christ in the house of Mary Magdalene and Martha, speaking with Martha, and saying to her that Mary had chosen the better part, and in the third was to be S. Gregory at table with twelve poor men, among whom he recognized one as Christ. Then, setting my hand to the work, I depicted in the last S. Gregory at table in a convent, served by White Friars of that Order, that I might be able to include those fathers therein, according to their wish. Besides that, I made in the figure of that saintly Pontiff the likeness of Pope Clement VII, and about him, among many Lords, Ambassadors, Princes, and other personages who stand there to see him eat, I portrayed Duke Alessandro de' Medici, in memory of the benefits and favours that I had received from him, and of his having been what he was, and with him many of my friends. And among those who are serving the poor men at table, I portrayed some friars of that convent with whom I was intimate, such as the strangers' attendants who waited upon me, the dispenser, the cellarer, and others of the kind; and so, also, the Abbot Serragli, the General Don Cipriano da Verona, and Bentivoglio. In like manner, I copied the vestments of that Pontiff from the reality, counterfeiting velvets, damasks, and other draperies of silk and gold of every kind; but the service of the table, vases, animals, and other things, I caused to be executed by Cristofano of the Borgo, as was told in his Life. In the second scene I sought to make the heads, draperies, and buildings not only different from the first, but in such a manner as to make as clearly evident as possible the lovingness of Christ in instructing the Magdalene, and the affection and readiness of Martha in arranging the table, and her lamentation at being left alone by her sister in such labours and service; to say nothing of the attentiveness of the Apostles, and of many other things worthy of consideration in that picture. As for the third scene, I painted the three Angels--coming to do this I know not how--within a celestial light which seems to radiate from them, while the rays of the sun surround the cloud in which they are. Of the three Angels the old Abraham is adoring one, although those that he sees are three; while Sarah stands laughing and wondering how that can come to pass which has been promised to her, and Hagar, with Ishmael in her arms, is departing from the hospitable shelter. The same radiance also gives light to some servants who are preparing the table, among whom are some who, not being able to endure that splendour, place their hands over their eyes and seek to shade themselves. Which variety of things, since strong shadows and brilliant lights give greater force to pictures, caused this one to have more relief than the other two, and, the colours being varied, they produced a very different effect. But would I had been able to carry my conception into execution, even as both then and afterwards, with new inventions and fantasies, I was always seeking out the laborious and difficult in art. This work, then, whatever it may be, was executed by me in eight months, together with a frieze in fresco, architectural ornaments, carvings, seat-backs, panels, and other adornments over the whole work and the whole refectory; and the price of all I was content to make two hundred crowns, as one who aspired more to glory than to gain. Wherefore M. Andrea Alciati, my very dear friend, who was then reading in Bologna, caused these words to be placed at the foot:

OCTONIS MENSIBUS OPUS AB ARETINO GEORGIO PICTUM, NON TAM PRECIO
QUAM AMICORUM OBSEQUIS ET HONORIS VOTO, ANNO 1539 PHILIPPUS
SERRALIUS PON. CURAVIT.