Paola was in despair, and when the news was generally known, early on the following morning, the indignation of the architect’s friends knew
Mutinelli, Annali.
no bounds. In a few hours Aretino wrote a consoling letter to Paola, another to Titian, explaining to him what had happened, and a series of libellous articles against every architect in Venice except Sansovino himself. No one escaped who could be supposed to have uttered a single word against the reputation of the artist in trouble. There was a certain architect called Sanmichele, a man of great piety—greater perhaps than his talent—a frequenter of Titian’s house, a rich man, too, such as Aretino delighted to fleece. Possibly also the good old artist’s character was irritating to the evil Tuscan, who could not see why a man should be both distinguished and virtuous, nor why Sanmichele should have a special mass said when he was about to begin an important work. One of Aretino’s favourite tricks was to use the most frightful language before the mild old man, till the latter, having exhausted entreaty and finding reproach useless, was driven to buy the blasphemer’s silence with a handsome present of rare old wine.
The occasion of Sansovino’s imprisonment seemed to Aretino an excellent opportunity for venting his spleen against the devout artist, and at the same time for obtaining a lucrative return for his industry. He therefore accused Sanmichele of being the direct cause of his friend’s arrest, and the abuse heaped upon him was so virulent and so persistent that its victim was obliged to have recourse to the usual bribe, which this time consisted of a fine basket of fish.
Sansovino’s friends soon triumphed, for they were many and powerful. I do not know whether a vaulted ceiling only just constructed can suddenly collapse and fall in of itself without some fault on the part of the architect, but Sansovino was unanimously declared to be entirely innocent, and the unlucky magistrate who, with some show of reason, had ordered his arrest was thrown into prison in his place.
His brilliantly successful career continued until he was eighty years of age, when, being too old for work, he was succeeded in the post of architect to the Republic by the celebrated Palladio. After that he lived eleven years longer in the society and friendship of Titian, who was two years older then he. On the register in the church of San Basso is to be found the following entry: ‘On November the seventh 1570 died Jacopo Sansovino, architect of the Church of Saint Mark; he was ninety-one years old and he died of old age.’
Aretino’s life had come to an abrupt close fourteen years earlier. I find in Tassini under the name ‘Carbon,’ Aretino’s place of residence, a statement of the singular fact that Aretino’s death was predicted a few months before it took place, though he was at that time perfectly well. The author of the Terremoto, addressing the Tuscan man of letters, says: ‘In this year LVI thou shalt
1556.
die; for the appearance of the star to the Wise Men at the birth of Our Lord was held to be a great sign, and I now hold the comet of this year to be a little sign which comes on thy account, because thou art against Christ.’ In that year Aretino actually died. It is said that his death was caused by his falling off his chair when convulsed with laughter at an abominable story, and though there may be some exaggeration about the tale, the physiognomy of the man might justify it. No one regretted him. In the State Archives of Florence a letter from a Venetian has been found which says: ‘The mortal Pietro Aretino was taken to another life on Wednesday evening at the third hour of the night by a (literally) cannonade of apoplexy, without leaving any regret or grief in any decent person. May God have pardoned him.’
Titian died six years after Sansovino, surviving to be the last of the triad of inseparable friends. He was then ninety-nine years of age, and was carried off by the plague when, judging from the picture he was painting at the time of his death, he was still in full possession of his amazing powers. Of all the victims of the terrible epidemic, amongst tens of thousands of dead, he was the only one to whom the Republic granted a public funeral.