ything else in the Cathedral, save the work of Donatello, is
forgotten beside it. Madonna enthroned among the Cherubim in her oval
mandorla, upheld by four puissant fair angels, turns with a gesture most
natural and lovely to St. Thomas, who kneels to her, his drapery in
beautiful folds about him, lifting his hands in prayer. Above, three
angels play on pipes and reeds; while in a corner a great bear gnaws at
the bark of an oak in full leaf.

In turning now to the Campanile, which Giotto began in 1334, on the site
of a chapel of S. Zenobio, we come to the last building of the great
group. Fair and slim as a lily, as light as that, as airy and full of
grace, to my mind at least it lacks a certain stability, so that looking
on it I always fear in my heart lest it should fall. It seems to lack
roots, as it were, yet by no means to want confidence or force. Can it
be that, after all, it would have seemed more secure, more firm and
established, if the spire Giotto designed for it had in truth been
built? The consummate and supreme artist, architect, sculptor, and
painter was not content to design so fair, so undreamed-of a flower as
this, but set himself to make the statues and the reliefs that were
necessary also. And then has he not built as only a painter could have
done, in white and rose and green? He died too soon to see the fairest
of his dreams, and it is really to two other artists--Taddeo Gaddi and
Francesco Talenti--that the actual work, after the first five
storeys--those windows, for instance, that add so much to the beauty of
the tower--is owing.[91]

[Illustration: THE MADONNA DELLA CINTOLA

_By Nanni di Banco. Duomo, Florence_

_Alinari_]

The reliefs that, set some five-and-twenty feet from the ground, are
so difficult to see, are the work of Andrea Pisano, the sculptor of the
south gate of the Baptistery. Born at Pontedera, the pupil of Giovanni
Pisano, this great and lovable artist has been robbed of much that
belongs to him. Vasari tells us--and for long we believed him--that
Giotto helped him to design the gate of the Baptistery; and again, that
Giotto designed these reliefs for Andrea to carve and found. It might
seem impossible to believe that the greatest sculptor then living, fresh
from a great triumph, would have consented to use the design of a
painter, even though he were Giotto. However this may be, the reliefs
really speak for themselves: those on the south side--early Sabianism,
house-bui