e entreaties
of Fra Bartolommeo himself, who had received money on account of the
painting, and was troubled in conscience at not having kept his
promise, he finished the work, and executed all that was wanting
with diligence and love, in such a way that many, not knowing this,
think that it was painted by one single hand; and this brought him
vast credit among craftsmen.

In the Chapter-house of the Certosa of Florence he executed a
Crucifixion, with Our Lady and the Magdalene at the foot of the
Cross, and some angels in the sky, who are receiving the blood of
Christ; a work wrought in fresco, with diligence and lovingness, and
passing well painted. Now some of the young men who were learning
art under him, thinking that the friars were not giving them proper
food, had counterfeited, without the knowledge of Mariotto, the keys
of those windows opening into the friar's rooms, through which their
pittance is passed; and sometimes, in secret, they stole some of it,
now from one and now from another. There was a great uproar about
this among the friars, since in the matter of eating they are as
sensitive as any other person; but the lads did it with great
dexterity, and, since they were held to be honest fellows, the blame
fell on some of the friars, who were said to be doing it from hatred
of one another. However, one day the truth was revealed, and the
friars, to the end that the work might be finished, gave a double
allowance to Mariotto and his lads, who finished the work with great
glee and laughter.

For the Nuns of S. Giuliano in Florence he painted the panel of
their high-altar, which he executed in a room that he had in the
Gualfonda; together with another for the same church, with a
Crucifix, some Angels, and God the Father, representing the Trinity,
in oils and on a gold ground.

Mariotto was a most restless person, devoted to the pleasures of
love, and a good liver in the matter of eating; wherefore,
conceiving a hatred for the subtleties and brain-rackings of
painting, and being often wounded by the tongues of other painters
(according to the undying custom among them, handed down from one to
another), he resolved to turn to a more humble, less fatiguing, and
more cheerful art. And so, having opened a very fine inn, without
the Porta S. Gallo, and a tavern and inn on the Ponte Vecchio, at
the Dragon, he followed that calling for many months, saying that he
had chosen an art without foreshortenings, muscle