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 illust