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 ill.u.s.trious 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 surpa.s.sed 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 a.s.s, 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 a.s.s; 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 a.s.saults. 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 p.r.i.c.ked 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 mult.i.tude 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 a.s.sailed 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 princ.i.p.al 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 n.o.ble 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 a.s.semble 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 a.s.sured 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 Pa.s.serini, 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 a.s.sisted 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 pa.s.sing 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 a.s.sist 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 pa.s.sing 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 bal.u.s.trade 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 princ.i.p.al door of the church, with G.o.d 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, pa.s.sing 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 princ.i.p.al master in my art, although before that those named above had a.s.sisted 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 compet.i.tion 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 a.s.siduous 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 Balda.s.sarre 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 l.u.s.tful 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 G.o.ds, and children, forming a sort of Baccha.n.a.l; 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 ill.u.s.trious 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 a.s.sisted 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 l.u.s.trous 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 l.u.s.trous. 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 a.s.sistance), 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 pa.s.sed 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 s.n.a.t.c.hed 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 G.o.d, 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 a.s.sisted 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 alt.i.tude, 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 G.o.d 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 a.s.sistant, 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 s.p.a.ce 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 a.s.sumption 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 pa.s.s 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 G.o.d. 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, Amba.s.sadors, 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 pa.s.s 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.
At this same time I executed two little altar-pictures, of the Dead Christ and of the Resurrection, which were placed by the Abbot Don Miniato Pitti in the Church of S. Maria di Barbiano, without San Gimignano in Valdelsa. Which works finished, I returned straightway to Florence, for the reason that Treviso, Maestro Biagio, and other Bolognese painters, thinking that I was seeking to establish myself in Bologna and to take their works and commissions out of their hands, kept molesting me unceasingly; but they did more harm to themselves than to me, and their envious ways moved me to laughter. In Florence, then, I copied for M. Ottaviano a large portrait of Cardinal Ippolito down to the knees, and other pictures, with which I kept myself occupied until the insupportable heat of summer. Which having come, I returned to the quiet and freshness of Camaldoli, in order to execute the above-mentioned altar-piece of the high-altar. In that work I painted a Christ taken down from the Cross, with the greatest study and labour that were within my power; and since, in the course of the work and of time, it seemed necessary to me to improve certain things, and I was not satisfied with the first sketch, I gave it another priming and repainted it all anew, as it is now to be seen, and then, attracted by the solitude and staying in that same place, I executed there a picture for the same Messer Ottaviano, in which I painted a young S. John, nude, among some rocks and crags that I copied from Nature among those mountains. And I had scarcely finished these works when there arrived in Camaldoli Messer Bindo Altoviti, who wished to arrange a transportation of great fir-trees to Rome by way of the Tiber, for the fabric of S.
Pietro, from the Cella di S. Alberigo, a place belonging to those fathers; and he, seeing all the works executed by me in that place, and by my good fortune liking them, resolved, before he departed thence, that I should paint an alter-picture for his Church of S. Apostolo in Florence. Wherefore, having finished that of Camaldoli, with the facade of the chapel in fresco (wherein I made the experiment of combining work in oil-colours with the other, and succeeded pa.s.sing well), I made my way to Florence, and there executed that altar-picture. Now, having to give a proof of my powers in Florence, where I had not yet executed such a work, and having many rivals, and also a desire to acquire a name, I resolved that I would do my utmost in that work and put into it all the diligence that I might find possible. And in order to be able to do that free from every vexatious thought, I first married my third sister and bought a house already begun in Arezzo, with a site for making most beautiful gardens, in the Borgo di S. Vito, in the best air of that city. In October, then, of the year 1540, I began the altar-picture for Messer Bindo, proposing to paint in it a scene that should represent the Conception of Our Lady, according to the t.i.tle of the chapel; which subject presenting no little difficulty to me, Messer Bindo and I took the opinions of many common friends, men of learning, and finally I executed it in the following manner. Having depicted the Tree of the Primal Sin in the middle of the picture, I painted at its roots Adam and Eve naked and bound, as the first transgressors of the commandment of G.o.d, and then one by one, bound to the other branches, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Aaron, Joshua, David, and the other Kings in succession, according to the order of time; all, I say, bound by both arms, excepting Samuel and John the Baptist, who are bound by one arm only, because they were blessed in the womb. I painted there, also, with the tail wound about the trunk of the Tree, the Ancient Serpent, who, having a human form from the middle upwards, has the hands bound behind; and upon his head, treading upon his horns, is one foot of the glorious Virgin, who has the other on a Moon, being herself all clothed with the Sun, and crowned with twelve stars. The Virgin, I say, is supported in the air, within a Splendour, by many nude little Angels, who are illumined by the rays that come from her; which rays, likewise, pa.s.sing through the leaves of the Tree, shed light upon those bound to it, and appear to be loosing their bonds by means of the virtue and grace that they bring from her from whom they proceed. And in the heaven, at the top of the picture, are two children that are holding certain scrolls, in which are written these words: QUOS EVae CULPA d.a.m.nAVIT, MARIae GRATIA SOLVIT. In short, so far as I can remember, I had not executed any work up to that time with more study or with more lovingness and labour; but all the same, while I may perhaps have satisfied others, I did not satisfy myself, although I know the time, study, and labour that I devoted to it, particularly to the nudes and heads, and, indeed, to every part.
For the labours of that picture Messer Bindo gave me three hundred crowns of gold, besides which, in the following year, he showed me so many courtesies and kindnesses in his house in Rome, where I made him a copy of the same altar-piece in a little picture, almost in miniature, that I shall always feel an obligation to his memory. At the same time that I painted that picture, which was placed, as I have said, in S.
Apostolo, I executed for M. Ottaviano de' Medici a Venus and a Leda from the cartoons of Michelagnolo, and in a large picture a S. Jerome in Penitence of the size of life, who, contemplating the death of Christ, whom he has before him on the Cross, is beating his breast in order to drive from his mind the thoughts of Venus and the temptations of the flesh, which at times tormented him, although he lived in woods and places wild and solitary, as he relates of himself at great length. To demonstrate which I made a Venus who with Love in her arms is flying from that contemplation, and holding Play by the hand, while the quiver and arrows have fallen to the ground; besides which, the shafts shot by Cupid against that Saint return to him all broken, and some that fall are brought back to him by the doves of Venus in their beaks. All these pictures, although perhaps at that time they pleased me, and were made by me as best I knew, I know not how much they please me at my present age; but, since art in herself is difficult, it is necessary to take from him who paints the best that he can do. This, indeed, I will say, because I can say it with truth, that I have always executed my pictures, inventions, and designs, whatever may be their value, I do not say only with the greatest possible rapidity, but also with incredible facility and without effort; for which let me call to witness, as I have mentioned in another place, the vast canvas that I painted in six days only, for S. Giovanni in Florence, in the year 1542, for the baptism of the Lord Don Francesco de' Medici, now Prince of Florence and Siena.
Now although I wished after these works to go to Rome, in order to satisfy Messer Bindo Altoviti, I did not succeed in doing it, because, being summoned to Venice by Messer Pietro Aretino, a poet of ill.u.s.trious name at that time, and much my friend, I was forced to go there, since he much desired to see me. And, moreover, I did it willingly, in order to see on that journey the works of Tiziano and of other painters; in which purpose I succeeded, for in a few days I saw the works of Correggio at Modena and Parma, those of Giulio Romano at Mantua, and the antiquities of Verona. Having finally arrived in Venice, with two pictures painted by my hand from cartoons by Michelagnolo, I presented them to Don Diego di Mendoza, who sent me two hundred crowns of gold.
Nor had I been long in Venice, when at the entreaty of Aretino I executed for the gentlemen of the Calza the scenic setting for a festival that they gave, wherein I had as my companions Battista Cungi and Cristofano Gherardi of Borgo a San Sepolcro and Bastiano Flori of Arezzo, men very able and well practised, of all which enough has been said in another place; and also the nine painted compartments in the Palace of Messer Giovanni Cornaro, which are in the soffit of a chamber in that Palace, which is by S. Benedetto. After these and other works of no little importance that I executed in Venice at that time, I departed, although I was overwhelmed by the commissions that were coming to me, on the 16th of August in the year 1542, and returned to Tuscany. There, before consenting to put my hand to any other thing, I painted on the vaulting of a chamber that had been built by my orders in my house which I have already mentioned, all the arts that are subordinate to or depend upon design. In the centre is a Fame who is seated upon the globe of the world and sounds a golden trumpet, throwing away one of fire that represents Calumny, and about her, in due order, are all those arts with their instruments in their hands; and since I had not time to do the whole, I left eight ovals, in order to paint in them eight portraits from life of the first men in our arts. In those same days I executed in fresco for the Nuns of S. Margherita in the same city, in a chapel of their garden, a Nativity of Christ with figures the size of life. And having thus pa.s.sed the rest of that summer in my own country, and part of the autumn, I went to Rome, where, having been received by the above-named Messer Bindo with many kindnesses, I painted for him in a picture in oils a Christ the size of life, taken down from the Cross and laid on the ground at the feet of His Mother; with Phoebus in the air obscuring the face of the Sun, and Diana that of the Moon. In the landscape, all darkened by that gloom, some rocky mountains, shaken by the earthquake that was caused by the Pa.s.sion of the Saviour, are seen shivered into pieces, and certain dead bodies of Saints are seen rising again and issuing from their sepulchres in various manners; which picture, when finished, was not displeasing to the gracious judgment of the greatest painter, sculptor, and architect that there has been in our times, and perchance in the past. By means of that picture, also, I became known to the most ill.u.s.trious Cardinal Farnese, to whom it was shown by Giovio and Messer Bindo; and at his desire I made for him, in a picture eight braccia high and four broad, a Justice who is embracing an ostrich laden with the twelve Tables, and with the sceptre that has the stork at the point, and the head covered by a helmet of iron and gold, with three feathers of three different colours, the device of the just judge. She is wholly nude from the waist upwards, and she has bound to her girdle with chains of gold, as captives, the seven Vices that are opposed to her, Corruption, Ignorance, Cruelty, Fear, Treachery, Falsehood, and Calumny. Above these, upon their shoulders, is placed Truth wholly nude, offered by Time to Justice, with a present of two doves representing Innocence. And upon the head of that Truth Justice is placing a crown of oak, signifying fort.i.tude of mind; which whole work I executed with all care and diligence, according to the best of my ability. At this same time I paid constant attention to Michelagnolo Buonarroti, and took his advice in all my works, and he in his goodness conceived much more affection for me; and his counsel, after he had seen some of my designs, was the reason that I gave myself anew and with better method to the study of the matters of architecture, which probably I would never have done if that most excellent man had not said to me what he did say, which out of modesty I forbear to tell.
At the next festival of S. Peter, the heat being very great in Rome, where I had spent all that winter of 1543, I returned to Florence, where in the house of Messer Ottaviano de' Medici, which I could call my own, I executed in an altar-piece for M. Biagio Mei of Lucca, his gossip, the same conception as in that of Messer Bindo in S. Apostolo, although I varied everything with the exception of the invention; and that picture, when finished, was placed in his chapel in S. Piero Cigoli at Lucca. In another of the same size--namely, seven braccia high and four broad--I painted Our Lady, S. Jerome, S. Luke, S. Cecilia, S. Martha, S.
Augustine, and S. Guido the Hermit; which altar-picture was placed in the Duomo of Pisa, where there were many others by the hands of excellent masters. And I had scarcely carried that one to completion, when the Warden of Works of that Duomo commissioned me to execute another, in which, since it was to be likewise of Our Lady, in order to vary it from the other I painted the Madonna with the Dead Christ at the foot of the Cross, lying in her lap, the Thieves on high upon their crosses, and, grouped with the Maries and Nicodemus, who are standing there, the t.i.tular Saints of those chapels, all forming a good composition and rendering the scene in that picture pleasing. Having returned again to Rome in the year 1544, besides many pictures that I executed for various friends, of which there is no need to make mention, I made a picture of a Venus from a design by Michelagnolo for M. Bindo Altoviti, who took me once more into his house; and for Galeotto da Girone, a Florentine merchant, I painted an altar-picture in oils of Christ taken down from the Cross, which was placed in his chapel in the Church of S. Agostino at Rome. In order to be able to paint that picture in comfort, together with some works that had been allotted to me by Tiberio Crispo, the Castellan of Castel S. Angelo, I had withdrawn by myself to that palace in the Trastevere which was formerly built by Bishop Adimari, below S. Onofrio, and which has since been finished by the second Salviati; but, feeling indisposed and wearied by my infinite labours, I was forced to return to Florence. There I executed some pictures, and among others one in which were Dante, Petrarca, Guido Cavalcanti, Boccaccio, Cino da Pistoia, and Guittone d'Arezzo, accurately copied from their ancient portraits; and of that picture, which afterwards belonged to Luca Martini, many copies have since been made.
In that same year of 1544 I was invited to Naples by Don Giammateo of Aversa, General of the Monks of Monte Oliveto, to the end that I might paint the refectory of a monastery built for them by King Alfonso I; but when I arrived, I was for not accepting the work, seeing that the refectory and the whole monastery were built in an ancient manner of architecture, with the vaults in pointed arches, low and poor in lights, and I doubted that I was like to win little honour thereby. However, being pressed by Don Miniato Pitti and Don Ippolito da Milano, my very dear friends, who were then Visitors to that Order, finally I accepted the undertaking. Whereupon, recognizing that I would not be able to do anything good save only with a great abundance of ornaments, dazzling the eyes of all who might see the work with a variety and mult.i.tude of figures, I resolved to have all the vaulting of the refectory wrought in stucco, in order to remove by means of rich compartments in the modern manner all the old-fashioned and clumsy appearance of those arches. In this I was much a.s.sisted by the vaults and walls, which are made, as is usual in that city, of blocks of tufa, which cut like wood, or even better, like bricks not completely baked; and thus, cutting them, I was able to sink squares, ovals, and octagons, and also to thicken them with additions of the same tufa by means of nails. Having then reduced those vaults to good proportions with that stucco-work, which was the first to be wrought in Naples in the modern manner, and in particular the facades and end-walls of that refectory, I painted there six panels in oils, seven braccia high, three to each end-wall. In three that are over the entrance of the refectory is the Manna raining down upon the Hebrew people, in the presence of Moses and Aaron, and the people gathering it up; wherein I strove to represent a variety of att.i.tudes and vestments in the men, women, and children, and the emotion wherewith they are gathering up and storing the Manna, rendering thanks to G.o.d. On the end-wall that is at the head is Christ at table in the house of Simon, and Mary Magdalene with tears washing His feet and drying them with her hair, showing herself all penitent for her sins; which story is divided into three pictures, in the centre the supper, on the right hand a b.u.t.tery with a credence full of vases in various fantastic forms, and on the left hand a steward who is bringing up the viands. The vaulting, then, was divided into three parts; in one the subject is Faith, in the second Religion, and in the third Eternity, and each of these forms a centre with eight Virtues about it, demonstrating to the monks that in that refectory they eat what is requisite for the perfection of their lives. To enrich the s.p.a.ces of the vaulting, I made them full of grotesques, which serve as ornaments in forty-eight s.p.a.ces for the forty-eight celestial signs; and on six walls down the length of that refectory, under the windows, which were made larger and richly ornamented, I painted six of the Parables of Jesus Christ which are in keeping with that place; and to all those pictures and ornaments there correspond the carvings of the seats, which are wrought very richly. And then I executed for the high-altar of the church an altar-picture eight braccia high, containing the Madonna presenting the Infant Jesus Christ to Simeon in the Temple, with a new invention. It is a notable thing that since Giotto there had not been up to that time, in a city so great and n.o.ble, any masters who had done anything of importance in painting, although there had been brought there from without some things by the hands of Perugino and Raffaello. On which account I exerted myself to labour in such a manner, in so far as my little knowledge could reach, that the intellects of that country might be roused to execute great and honourable works; and, whether that or some other circ.u.mstance may have been the reason, between that time and the present day many very beautiful works have been done there, both in stucco and in painting.
Besides the pictures described above, I executed in fresco on the vaulting of the strangers' apartment in the same monastery, with figures large as life, Jesus Christ with the Cross on His shoulder, and many of His Saints who have one likewise on their shoulders in imitation of Him, to demonstrate that for one who wishes truly to follow Him it is necessary to bear with good patience the adversities that the world inflicts. For the General of that Order I executed a great picture of Christ appearing to the Apostles as they struggled with the perils of the sea, and taking S. Peter by the arm, who, having hastened towards Him through the water, was fearing to drown; and in another picture, for Abbot Capeccio, I painted the Resurrection. These works carried to completion, I painted a chapel in fresco for the Lord Don Pietro di Toledo, Viceroy of Naples, in his garden at Pozzuolo, besides executing some very delicate ornaments in stucco; and arrangements had been made to execute two great loggie for the same lord, but the undertaking was not carried into effect, for the following reason. There had been some difference between the Viceroy and the above-named monks, and the Constable went with his men to the monastery to seize the Abbot and some monks who had had some words with the Black Friars in a procession, over a matter of precedence. But the monks made some resistance, a.s.sisted by about fifteen young men who were a.s.sisting me in stucco-work and painting, and wounded some of the bailiffs; on which account it became necessary to get them out of the way, and they went off in various directions. And so I, left almost alone, was unable not only to execute the loggie at Pozzuolo, but also to paint twenty-four pictures of stories from the Old Testament and from the life of S. John the Baptist, which, not caring to remain any longer in Naples, I took to Rome to finish, whence I sent them, and they were placed about the stalls and over the presses of walnut-wood made from my architectural designs in the Sacristy of S. Giovanni Carbonaro, a convent of Eremite and Observantine Friars of S. Augustine, for whom I had painted a short time before, for a chapel without their church, a panel-picture of Christ Crucified, with a rich and varied ornament of stucco, at the request of Seripando, their General, who afterwards became a Cardinal. In like manner, half-way up the staircase of the same convent, I painted in fresco a S. John the Evangelist who stands gazing at Our Lady clothed with the sun and crowned with twelve stars, with her feet upon the moon.
In the same city I painted for Messer Tommaso Cambi, a Florentine merchant and very much my friend, the times and seasons of the year on four walls in the hall of his house, with pictures of Sleep and Dreaming over a terrace where I made a fountain. And for the Duke of Gravina I painted an altar-picture of the Magi adoring Christ, which he took to his dominions; and for Orsanca, Secretary to the Viceroy, I executed another altar-piece with five figures around a Christ Crucified, and many pictures.
But, although I was regarded with favour by those lords and was earning much, and my commissions were multiplying every day, I judged, since my men had departed and I had executed works in abundance in one year in that city, that it would be well for me to return to Rome. Which having done, the first work that I executed was for Signor Ranuccio Farnese, at that time Archbishop of Naples; painting on canvas and in oils four very large shutters for the organ of the Piscopio in Naples, on the front of which are five Patron Saints of that city, and on the inner side the Nativity of Jesus Christ, with the Shepherds, and King David singing to his psaltery, DOMINUS DIXIT AD ME, etc. And I finished likewise the twenty-four pictures mentioned above and some for M. Tommaso Cambi, which were all sent to Naples; which done, I painted five pictures of the Pa.s.sion of Christ for Raffaello Acciaiuoli, who took them to Spain.
In the same year, Cardinal Farnese being minded to cause the Hall of the Cancelleria, in the Palace of S. Giorgio, to be painted, Monsignor Giovio, desiring that it should be done by my hands, commissioned me to make many designs with various inventions, which in the end were not carried into execution. Nevertheless the Cardinal finally resolved that it should be painted in fresco, and with the greatest rapidity that might be possible, so that he might be able to use it at a certain time determined by himself. That hall is a little more than a hundred palms in length, fifty in breadth, and the same in height. On each end-wall, fifty palms broad, was painted a great scene, and two on one of the long walls, but on the other, from its being broken by windows, it was not possible to paint scenes, and therefore there was made a pendant afte