convenience from the distance of those who have engraved the heads; for if the engravers had been near me, we might probably have had the work executed with greater care than has now been done. But however this may be, our artists, and the lovers of art for whose benefit and convenience I have subjected myself to so much labour, are wholly indebted to your most illustrious Excellency, for whatever of good, useful, or agreeable may be found in this work; for, being in your Excellency’s service, I have had facilities, by means of the leisure which you have been pleased to secure to me, and by the use of the many, nay, innumerable objects belonging to your Excellency, to which I have had access: for the collection, arrangement, and final presentation to the world, of all that seemed desirable for the completion of the work. And now, would it not be almost impiety as well as ingratitude, should I dedicate these lives to any other than yourself? or, if artists should attribute, whatever they may find of useful or pleasing in the work, to any one but to your Excellency? For not only was it by your help and favour that the book first received existence, and now returns to the light; but are not you alone, in imitation of our ancestors, sole father, lord, and protector, of these our arts? Most reasonable and righteous is it, therefore, that so many pictures and noble statues, with so many wondrous edifices of every kind, should be erected and executed by those in your service, and to your eternal and ever-during memory. But if we are all indebted to you for these and other causes,—as we all are most deeply,—how much more do not I owe you? I, who have ever received at your hands so many valued occasions (would that my head and hands were but equal to my wish and desire,) for giving proof of my slight abilities, which, whatever they may be, are very far from commensurate to the truly royal magnificence and greatness of your own mind. But what do I seek to accomplish? It were better I should remain silent than attempt that which would be wholly impossible, even to a much higher and nobler intellect,—how much more, then, to my most weak powers. Deign then, your most illustrious Excellency, to accept this my— or rather, indeed, your—book of the Lives of the Artists in Design, and, as doth the Father of all, looking first to the heart of the writer, and the good intentions of the work, be pleased graciously to accept, not what I would, or ought to offer, but what I am able to present.
Your most illustrious Excellency’s
Most obliged servant,
Giorgio Vasari.
Florence, 9th January, 1568.
