over
with the brushes all the figures there, and, persevering in this
performance, did not cease until he had repainted everything with his
own hand; and this done, he again made a mixture of all the colours that
were left him, although they were but few, and, getting down from the
scaffolding, went off. Monday morning having come, Buonamico returned to
his work, where, seeing the figures spoilt, the flasks all mixed up, and
everything upside down, he stood all in marvel and confusion. Then,
having pondered much in his own mind, he concluded finally that some
Aretine had done this, through envy or through some other reason;
wherefore, having gone to the Bishop, he told him how the matter stood
and what he suspected, whereat the Bishop became very much disturbed,
but, consoling Buonamico, desired him to put his hand again to the work
and to repaint all that was spoilt. And because the Bishop had put faith
in his words, which had something of the probable, he gave him six of
his men-at-arms, who should stand in hiding with halberds while he was
not at work, and, if anyone came, should cut him to pieces without
mercy. The figures, then, having been painted over again, one day that
the soldiers were in hiding, lo and behold! they hear a certain rumbling
through the church, and a little while after the ape climbing on to the
scaffolding; and in the twinkling of an eye, the mixtures made, they see
the new master set himself to work over the saints of Buonamico. Calling
him, therefore, and showing him the culprit, and standing with him to
watch the beast at his work, they were all like to burst with laughter;
and Buonamico in particular, for all that he was vexed thereby, could
not keep from laughing till the tears came. Finally, dismissing the
soldiers who had mounted guard with their halberds, he went off to the
Bishop and said to him: "My lord, you wish the painting to be done in
one fashion, and your ape wishes it done in another." Then, relating the
affair, he added: "There was no need for you to send for painters from
elsewhere, if you had the true master at home. But he, perhaps, knew not
so well how to make the mixtures; now that he knows, let him do it by
himself, since I am no more good here. And his talent being revealed, I
am content that there should be nothing given to me for my work save
leave to return to Florence." The Bishop, hearing the affair, although
it vexed him, could not keep from laughing, and above all