ferent times,
determined among themselves that Antonio also should make some. This
came to pass; and his works turned out so excellent, that they are
recognized as the best among them all. These were the Feast of Herod and
the Dance of Herodias; but more beautiful than anything else was the S.
John that is in the middle of the altar, a work wrought wholly with the
chasing-tool, and much extolled. For this reason he was commissioned by
the said Consuls to make the candelabra of silver, each three braccia in
height, and the Cross in proportion; which work he brought to such
perfection, with such an abundance of carving, that it has ever been
esteemed a marvellous thing both by foreigners and by his countrymen.

[Illustration: SS. EUSTACE, JAMES, AND VINCENT

(_After the panel by =Piero Pollaiuolo=. Florence: Uffizi, 1301_)

_Alinari_]

In this calling he took infinite pains, both with the works that he
executed in gold and with those in enamel and silver. Among these are
some very beautiful paxes in S. Giovanni, coloured by the action of
fire, which are such that they could be scarcely improved with the
brush; and some of his marvellous enamels may be seen in other churches
in Florence, Rome, and other parts of Italy.

He taught this art to the Florentine Mazzingo and to Giuliano del
Facchino, both passing good masters, and to Giovanni Turini of Siena,
who surpassed these his companions considerably in that profession, in
which, from Antonio di Salvi--who made many good works, such as a large
silver Cross for the Badia of Florence, and other things--to our own
day, there has been nothing done than can be held in particular account.
But of his works and of those of the Pollaiuoli many have been destroyed
and melted down to meet the necessities of the city in times of war.

For this reason, recognizing that this art gave no long life to the
labours of its craftsmen, and desiring to gain a more lasting memory,
Antonio resolved to pursue it no longer. And so, his brother Piero being
a painter, he associated himself with him in order to learn the methods
of handling and using colours; but it appeared to him an art so
different from the goldsmith's, that, if he had not been so hasty in
resolving to abandon his own art entirely, it might well have been that
he would never have brought himself to turn to the other. However,
spurred by fear of shame rather than by hope of profit, in a few months
he acquired a practical knowl