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Medieval Sourcebook:
Giorgio Vasari (1511-1574):
Lives of the Artists: Maturino and Polidoro and Monsignori
Back to Index to Vasari's Lives
IN that age of gold, as we may well call the happy age of Leo
X, among the most noble minds Polidoro da Caravaggio has an honourable
place. He came to Rome about the time when the loggie of the Pope's
palace were being built under the direction of Raffaello, and
until he was eighteen years of age was employed in carrying the
bricklayer's hod for the builders. But when the painting began
Polidoro's desires turned to painting, and he made himself intimate
with all the young men of talent that he might learn their method
of working. But from among them all he chose for a companion Maturino,
a Florentine, with whom he worked, taking so much pleasure in
the art that in a few months he did things which astonished every
one who had known him in his former condition. And the love of
Maturino for Polidoro, and Polidoro's for Maturino, grew so strong
that they resolved to live and die together like brothers, having
their work and money in common. And because Polidoro had had in
his service for a long time a boy of the country, who bore greater
love to Polidoro's money than to himself, but because he kept
it in the bank he had never been able to touch it. But now a wicked
and cruel thought came into his mind, and he resolved with the
aid of some of his friends to put his master to death the next
night while he was sleeping, and to share his money with them.
So they set upon him while he was in his first sleep and strangled
him with a cord, and afterwards inflicted many wounds upon him;
and to show it was not they who had done it, they carried him
to the door of a house where dwelt a lady whom Polidoro loved,
that it might be supposed it was her kinsmen who had slain him.
Then the boy, having given a good part of the money to the ruffians
who had aided him and sent them away, went weeping to the house
of a count who was a friend of his dead master, and told him what
had happened, and a diligent search was made for those who had
done the treacherous deed; but nothing came to light. At last,
as Heaven would have it, one who had no interest in the matter
chanced to say that it was impossible that any one but the boy
himself could have assassinated him. Upon that the count caused
him to be seized and put to torture, when he confessed his crime
and was condemned to the gallows. But this would not give back
life to Polidoro. So they celebrated his obsequies with solemn
ceremonies, and with the infinite grief of all Messina he was
buried in the cathedral.
There have always flourished in Verona from the time of Fra Giocondo
men excellent in painting and architecture. Among these was Francesco
Monsignori, who being encouraged by his father to apply himself
to drawing, went to Mantua to find Mantegna, who was working in
that city. He laboured so unweariedly, spurred on by the fame
of his preceptor, that it was not long before Francesco II., Marquis
of Mantua, who delighted in every kind of painting, took him into
his service, gave him a house in Mantua to live in, and assigned
him an honourable provision. Francesco was not ungrateful for
these benefits, and served this lord with the greatest fidelity
and affection, and the marquis, on his side, grew daily more fond
of him, until at last he never left the city without Francesco,
and was heard to say that Francesco was dearer to him than his
whole state.
One day the marquis was watching him while he was working upon
a picture of S. Sebastian, and said to him, "Francesco, you
must have a finely formed model for this saint?" And Francesco
replied, "I am drawing from a porter whose body is very finely
formed, and I tie him up, as I want to make my work look natural."
And the marquis answered, "But the limbs of your saint do
not look right, for there is no appearance of constraint; and
there is not that terror which one would imagine in a man who
is tied up and being shot at; but if you like, I will show you
what you should clo to make the figure right." "I pray
you to do so, my lord," said Francesco. And he answered,
" When you have tied up your porter send for me, and I will
show you what you ought to do." So the next day Francesco
tied him up as he wanted him and sent secretly to call the marquis,
not knowing what he meant to do. Then the marquis rushed into
the room in a fury, with a loaded crossbow in his hand, and ran
at the porter, crying aloud, "Traitor, you are a dead man;
I have caught you at last," and other like words, and the
poor fellow, hearing them, and thinking himself a dead man, struggled
to free himself from the ropes with which he was bound, and in
his panic fear represented vividly the horror of death in his
face and in his distorted limbs. Then the marquis said to Francesco,
"There, that is how he should be; the rest you must do yourself."
And the painter, considering the matter, gave his figure all the
perfection that could be imagined.
The Grand Turk had sent by one of his men a present to the marquis
of a very fine dog, a bow, and a quiver. Thereupon the marquis
set Francesco to paint the dog and the man who had brought it
and the other things; and when it was done, wishing to see if
the dog was lifelike, he caused one of his own dogs, who was a
great enemy to the Turkish dog, to be brought into the room where
the dog was painted, standing on a stone pavement. And as soon
as the live dog saw the painted one standing as if it were alive,
and just like the one whom he mortally hated, he threw himself
upon it to seize it, breaking away from the man who held him,
and striking his head with such force against the wall that he
dashed his skull to pieces.
Benedetto Baroni, Francesco's nephew, had a picture of his, about
which a story has been told by some people who were present. It
was a picture of little more than two spans in length, a halflength
of the Madonna, and at her side the Child from His shoulder upwards,
with His arm lifted in the act of caressing His mother; and it
is said that when the Emperor was master of Verona, Don Alonzo
of Castile, and Alarcone, the famous captain, were in that city,
and being in the house of Count Lodovico da Sesso, said
that they should like very much to see this picture. So having
sent for it, they were standing one evening looking at it in a
good light and admiring the skill of the work, when the count's
wife, the Lady Caterina, came by with one of her sons, who had
in his hand one of those green birds which are called in Verona
"terrazzani," because they make their nest on the ground,
and which will perch on your wrist like a hawk. It happened then
that while she was standing with the others looking at the picture,
this bird, seeing the outstretched arm of the painted Child, flew
up to perch upon it, and not being able to attach itself to the
picture, fell down, but twice it returned, thinking it was one
of the living children who were always carrying it on their wrists.
The lords, greatly astonished, would have paid Benedetto a great
price to have had the picture, but they could not get it from
him by any means. And when, not long after, they planned to steal
it from him at a feast, he was warned of it, and their design
did not succeed.
Francesco was a man of holy life, and an enemy of vice, so that
he would never paint any evil pictures though the marquis many
times prayed him. And his brothers were like him in goodness.
The third, who was a friar of the Observantines of S. Dominic,
called Fra Girolamo, was also a reasonably good painter. He was
a person of most simple habits, and quite a stranger to the things
of the world. He lived at a farm belonging to the convent, and
that he might escape all trouble and disturbance, he kept the
money which was sent him for his work, and which he used for buying
colours and such things, in an uncovered box hanging to a beam
in the middle of his room, so that any one could take it. And
that he might not have trouble every day about his food, he used
on Monday to cook a saucepan of beans to last him the week. When
the plague came to Mantua, and the sick were abandoned, as has
often happened in such cases, Fra Girolamo, moved by the noblest
charity, would not leave the poor sick fathers, but served them
with his own hands, caring not t11at for the love of God he lost
his own life, and so he took the infection and died, to the grief
of all who knew him.
Source. These texts were at http://ubmail.ubalt.edu/~pfitz/ART/REN/VASARI.HTM,but
vanished from the net, and so they have been restored here.
Vasari, Giorgio, 1511-1574. Lives of the most eminent painters, sculptors &
architects, by Giorgio Vasari: newly tr. by Gaston du C. de Vere. With five hundred
illustraiions, London, Macmillan and & The Medici society, 1912-15.
Other translations include:
Vasari, Giorgio, 1511-1574. The lives of the painters, sculptors and architects. London, J. M. Dent; New York, Dutton [1949-50]).
Vasari, Giorgio, 1511-1574. Lives of the most eminent painters, sculptors,
and architects. Abridged from the translation by Gaston DuC. DeVere. Edited, with an
introd., by Robert N. Linscott. New York, Modern Library [1959].
Vasari, Giorgio, 1511-1574. Lives of the artists. Selected and translated by
E.L. Seeley. Introd. by Alfred Werner. (New York, Noonday Press, [1965, c1957]).
Vasari, Giorgio, 1511-1574. Lives of the artists; a selection translated by
George Bull. Harmondsworth, Middlesex, Eng. : Penguin Books, 1987.
Vasari, Giorgio, 1511-1574. The lives of the artists; translated with an
introduction and notes by Julia Conaway Bondanella and Peter Bondanella. (Oxford ; New
York : Oxford University Press, 1991.).
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