the depravity of the action, rendering all power of language, however eloquent, inadequate to describe it. Therefore, without further insisting on that matter, I will only say, that in men, capable of such wickedness, there dwells a spirit, not merely savage and inhuman, but wholly cruel and fiend-like; nay, so utterly destitute of all worth are such beings, that they no longer merit the name of men, or even of animals, but are altogether unfit to breath the breath of life. For, inasmuch as a virtuous emulation and the effort to acquire glory and honour, by surpassing men more distinguished than himself, is praiseworthy in the artist, as necessary to his progress and useful to society; insomuch, nay much more, is the wickedness of envy to be scorned and vituperated; envy, which, not being able to endure the praise and glory of another, is therefore resolved to deprive him of life, whom it cannot despoil of honour, as was done by the unhappy Andrea dal Castagno, who was in truth, excellent as a painter, and a great master in design, but was still more remarkable for the rancour and envious hatred by which he was inspired towards other painters, insomuch that, by the weight and darkness of his crime, he has inhumed and obscured the splendour of his talents.
This master, having been born at a small farm called Castagno, situate in the Mugello, a district of the Florentine territory, adopted that name as his surname when he came to take up his abode in Florence, which happened on this wise. His father died while he was in his first childhood, and left him to the care of an uncle, who set him to herd his cattle. In this occupation he spent several years, displaying great readiness and intelligence; he was besides so strong and powerful that he was not only capable of guarding and keeping his cattle in subjection, but also of protecting the pastures, and whatever else was placed within his care, from all attack and aggression. One day, while employed in this manner, he was seeking shelter from the rain, when he chanced to enter a house where one of those painters of the district, who make pictures for small prices, was painting an oratory or tabernacle, for a countryman. Whereupon, Andrea, wdio had never before seen a thing of the kind, was seized with instant admiration, and began to look attentively at the work, and examine the manner of its execution; as he did so, a
