self in confusion, as I cannot but believe that Jacopo must have done in those eleven years that he spent thereon, and during which he half crazed himself, as he would certainly do every one else, who should give much attention to these pictures, with their unintelligible masses of figures.[1]
It is true that there are portions of figures, some turning their backs, others the front to the spectator, which are well drawn, there are also certain figures in profile which have been executed by Puntormo with marvellous care and much labour; indeed he is said to have made models of clay in full relief, and finely finished for almost all of them, but as a whole, the work is nevertheless entirely out of his manner, and, as it appears to every one, devoid of all measure and proportion; the trunks of his figures, for example, are for the most part large, while the arms and legs are small, to say nothing of the heads, in which one cannot discern the slightest vestige of that perfect excellence and singular grace with which it had previously been the wont of this artist to adorn that portion of his works, to the great satisfaction of all who examine his earlier pictures. It would almost appear indeed, as if in these pictures he had bestowed his cares only on certain parts, and had made no account whatever of other, and very important portions of the story.[1] At a word, in this undertaking, wherein Puntormo had hoped to surpass all that had been effected by art, he did not attain to a comparison even with his own works performed at an earlier period, whence it may be clearly seen, that he who ventures to do himself violence and seeks to force nature, does but ensure the ruin of those good qualities which had been imparted to him, and with which this artist had without doubt been largely endowed.
But what can or ought we here to do unless it be to have compassion on Puntormo? for the masters of our vocation are subject to the liability of error as well as other men. Even the good Homer sometimes falls asleep, as it is said, nor can it yet be affirmed that there is any one work by Jacopo da Puntormo which has not something of good and praiseworthy
