DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.61542#0066
40
GIOTTO
[1276-
was short and insignificant in appearance, were riding
out to Vespignano, they were caught in a shower of
rain, and forced to borrow cloaks and hats from the
peasants. “ Well, Giotto,” said the lawyer, as they
trotted back to Florence, clad in these old clothes
and bespattered with mud from head to foot, “ if a
stranger were to meet you now, would he ever
suppose that you were the first painter in Florence ? ”
“ Certainly he would,” was Giotto’s prompt reply, “ if
beholding your worship he could imagine for a
moment that you had learnt your A. B. C.” And the
novelist Sacchetti relates how the great master rode
out to San Gallo one Sunday afternoon with a party
of friends, after the manner of Florentine citizens, more
for pleasure than devotion, and how they fell in with a
herd of swine, one of whom ran between Giotto’s legs
and threw him down. “ After all, the pigs are quite
right,” said the painter, as he scrambled to his feet
and shook the dust off his clothes, “ when I think how
many thousands of crowns I have earned with their
bristles, without ever giving them even a bowl oi
soup ! ” The same writer records how on another
of these joyous Sunday expeditions Giotto stopped
with his friends at the church of the Servi friars, to
study the paintings on the walls. One of his com-
panions remarked that St. Joseph was always repre-
sented as grave and melancholy, upon which Giotto
replied, “ Can you wonder, considering his relation-
ship to the Child ? ” a repartee which seems to have
afforded the company infinite amusement. These
tales sound trivial in themselves, but are of interest
as showing the deep impression left upon the great
painter’s contemporaries, not only by his talents, but
GIOTTO
[1276-
was short and insignificant in appearance, were riding
out to Vespignano, they were caught in a shower of
rain, and forced to borrow cloaks and hats from the
peasants. “ Well, Giotto,” said the lawyer, as they
trotted back to Florence, clad in these old clothes
and bespattered with mud from head to foot, “ if a
stranger were to meet you now, would he ever
suppose that you were the first painter in Florence ? ”
“ Certainly he would,” was Giotto’s prompt reply, “ if
beholding your worship he could imagine for a
moment that you had learnt your A. B. C.” And the
novelist Sacchetti relates how the great master rode
out to San Gallo one Sunday afternoon with a party
of friends, after the manner of Florentine citizens, more
for pleasure than devotion, and how they fell in with a
herd of swine, one of whom ran between Giotto’s legs
and threw him down. “ After all, the pigs are quite
right,” said the painter, as he scrambled to his feet
and shook the dust off his clothes, “ when I think how
many thousands of crowns I have earned with their
bristles, without ever giving them even a bowl oi
soup ! ” The same writer records how on another
of these joyous Sunday expeditions Giotto stopped
with his friends at the church of the Servi friars, to
study the paintings on the walls. One of his com-
panions remarked that St. Joseph was always repre-
sented as grave and melancholy, upon which Giotto
replied, “ Can you wonder, considering his relation-
ship to the Child ? ” a repartee which seems to have
afforded the company infinite amusement. These
tales sound trivial in themselves, but are of interest
as showing the deep impression left upon the great
painter’s contemporaries, not only by his talents, but