obvious in the various kinds of blacks, not less than five or six, to be seen therein; velvet, satin, silk of Mantua, damask, and cloth namely all black, with a very black beard, finely distinguished on this sable clothing, and all so well executed that life itself could scarcely be more life-like. In the hand this portrait holds a branch of laurel with a scroll, whereon there is written the name of Clement VII.; two masks lie before him, one beautiful, to intimate Virtue, the other hideous to represent Vice. This picture was presented by Messer Pietro to his native city, and the people of Arezzo have placed it in the public hall of their council,[1] thus doing honour to the memory of their ingenious fellow citizen, and receiving no less from his fame.[2] At a later period Sebastiano painted the likeness of Andrea Doria[3] which was also an admirable work, with the head of the Florentine Baccio Valori; a painting the beauty and excellence of which it would not be possible adequately to describe.
Now it happened about this time, that Mariano Fetti Frate del Piombo[4] died, and Sebastiano, remembering the promises made to him by the above-named Bishop of Vasona, master of the household to his Holiness, made interest to obtain the office of the seal, thus vacated; wherefore, although that office was in like manner sought by Giovanni da Udine, who had also been in the service of the Pope in minoribus, and was still serving him, yet the Pontiff, moved by the prayers of the Bishop, and also by his conviction that the abilities of Sebastiano merited that favour, bestowed the desired office on Sebastiano, but commanded that he should pay three hundred scudi per annum out of the same, as a pension to Giovanni da Udine.
Thereupon Sebastiano assumed the habit of a monk: when it soon appeared as if he felt his very soul changed thereby, for perceiving that he had now the means of satisfying his desires without stroke of pencil, he gave himself up to his repose, and indemnified himself, by the enjoyments which his income supplied, for all the painful nights and laborious days
