Cartwright, Julia: The painters of Florence: from the Thirteenth to the Sixteenth century (London: John Murray, 1910)

1519] THE LAST SUPPER 257
hardly hope to realise on earth, and that of Judas,
for which he was still seeking a model, but would,
if it pleased the Duke, make use of the Prior’s
own head, a joke over which both prince and
painter laughed heartily. By the end of the
year, however, the work was finished, and Luca
Pacioli, in dedicating his book to the Duke,
alludes to his friend Leonardo as the “ sculptor
of the admirable and stupendous equestrian statue,
and the painter of the noble and beautiful
symbol of the ardent Desire of our Salvation in
the temple of le Gratie.” Unfortunately, instead of
working in fresco—a process which did not admit
of the continual retouchings prompted by his
fastidious taste—Leonardo painted in oils on a dry
stucco ground, which soon crumbled away, and in
Vasari’s time the great picture was already a wreck.
We need not dwell on the melancholy tale of subse-
quent mutilations and restorations which it has
undergone. Enough that Leonardo’s soul still
dwells in this ruined masterpiece, and that even
now it has a power and a charm which no copies
can ever give. There is a vigour and sincerity in
the heads, a sense of common action and thrill of
sympathy running through the group, above all, a
depth of tenderness and intensity of feeling in the
expression of the faces, which no reproductions give,
and which belong to the original alone.
After finishing the Last Supper, Leonardo painted
Lodovico’s own portrait and that of his young wife,
the lamented Duchess Beatrice—who had died early
in the year, and was buried in the church close by-
kneeling with their little sons at the foot of the
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