parts of Italy, his miraculous enamels are
to be seen."

Now whether or not Antonio, like others, continued to exercise this
craft, the account given by Vasari, as follows, of his learning to paint
is extremely significant as showing how painting was regarded in
relation to the kindred arts so widely practised in
Florence:--"Eventually, considering that this craft did not secure a
long life to the work of its masters, Antonio, desiring for his labours
a more enduring memory, resolved to devote himself to it no longer; and
his brother Piero being a painter, he joined himself to him for the
purpose of learning the modes of proceeding in painting. He then found
this to be an art so different from that of the goldsmith that he wished
he had never addressed himself to it. But being impelled by shame rather
than any advantage to be obtained, he acquired a knowledge of the
processes used in painting in the course of a few months, and became an
excellent master."

As early as 1460 he had painted the three large canvases of _Hercules_
for Lorenzo de'Medici, now no longer existing, but probably reflected in
the two small panels of the same subject in the Uffizi. These alone are
enough to mark him as one of the greatest artists of his time. The
magnificent _David_, at Berlin, soon followed, and the little _Daphne
and Apollo_ in our National Gallery. These were all accomplished
unaided, but a little later he worked in concert with his brother Piero,
to whom we are told to attribute parts of the painting of the large _S.
Sebastian_ in the National Gallery, painted in 1475 for Antonio Pucci,
from whose descendant it was purchased. "For the chapel of the Pucci in
the church of San Sebastian," says Vasari, "Antonio painted the
altar-piece--a remarkable and wonderfully executed work with numerous
horses, many nude figures, and singularly beautiful foreshortenings.
Also the portrait of S. Sebastian taken from life, that is to say, from
Gino di Ludovico Capponi. This picture has been more extolled than any
by Antonio. He has evidently copied nature to the utmost of his power,
as we see more especially in one of the archers, who, bending towards
the ground, and resting his bow against his breast, is employing all his
force to prepare it for action; the veins are swelling, the muscles
strained, and the man holds his breath as he applies all his strength to
the effort. All the other figures in the diversity of their attitudes
clearly prove