"In the year 1302," says Vasari, "Buffalmacco was invited to Assisi,
where, in the church of San Francesco, he painted in fresco the chapel
of Santa Caterina, with stories taken from her life. These paintings are
still preserved, and many figures in them are well worthy of praise.
Having finished this chapel, Buonamico was passing through Arezzo, when
he was detained by the Bishop Guido, who had heard that he was a
cheerful companion, as well as a good painter, and who wished him to
remain for a time in that city, to paint the chapel of the episcopal
church, where the baptistery now is. Buonamico began the work, and had
already completed the greater part of it, when a very curious
circumstance occurred; and this, according to Franco Sacchetti, who
relates it among his Three Hundred Stories, was as follows. The bishop
had a large ape, of extraordinary cunning, the most sportive and
mischievous creature in the world. This animal sometimes stood on the
scaffold, watching Buonamico at his work, and giving a grave attention
to every action: with his eyes constantly fixed on the painter, he
observed him mingle his colors, handle the various flasks and tools,
beat the eggs for his paintings in distemper--all that he did, in short;
for nothing escaped the creature's observation. One Saturday evening,
Buffalmacco left his work; and on the Sunday morning, the ape, although
fastened to a great log of wood, which the bishop had commanded his
servants to fix to his foot, that he might not leap about at his
pleasure, contrived, in despite of the weight, which was considerable,
to get on the scaffold where Buonamico was accustomed to work. Here he
fell at once upon the vases which held the colors, mingled them all
together, beat up whatever eggs he could find, and, plunging the pencils
into this mixture, he daubed over every figure, and did not cease till
he had repainted the whole work with his own hand. Having done that, he
mixed all the remaining colors together, and getting down from the
scaffold, he went his way. When Monday morning came, Buffalmacco
returned to his work; and, finding his figures ruined, his vessels all
heaped together, and every thing turned topsy-turvy, he stood amazed in
sore confusion. Finally, having considered the matter within himself, he
arrived at the conclusion that some Aretine, moved by jealousy, or other
cause, had worked the mischief he beheld. Proceeding to the bishop, he
related what had happened, and declared his suspicions, by all which
that prelate was greatly disturbed; but, consoling Buonamico as best he
could, he persuaded him to return to his labors, and repair the
mischief. Bishop Guido, thinking him nevertheless likely to be right,
his opinion being a very probable one, gave him six soldiers, who were
ordered to remain concealed on the watch, with drawn weapons, during the
master's absence, and were commanded to cut down any one, who might be
caught in the act, without mercy. The figures were again completed in a
certain time; and one day as the soldiers were on guard, they heard a
strange kind of rolling sound in the church, and immediately after saw
the ape clamber up to the scaffold and seize the pencils. In the
twinkling of an eye, the new master had mingled his colors; and the
soldiers saw him set to work on the saints of Buonamico. They then
summoned the artist, and showing him the malefactor, they all stood
watching the animal at his operations, being in danger of fainting with
laughter, Buonamico more than all; for, though exceedingly disturbed by
what had happened, he could not help laughing till the tears ran down
his cheeks. At length he betook himself to the bishop, and said: 'My
lord, you desire to have your chapel painted in one fashion, but your
ape chooses to have it done in another.' Then, relating the story, he
added: 'There was no need whatever for your lordship to send to foreign
parts for a painter, since you had the master in your house; but perhaps
he did not know exactly how to mix the colors; however, as he is now
acquainted with the method, he can proceed without further help; I am no
longer required here, since we have discovered his talents, and will ask
no other reward for my labors, but your permission to return to
Florence.' Hearing all this, the bishop, although heartily vexed, could
not restrain his laughter; and the rather, as he remembered that he who
was thus tricked by an ape, was himself the most incorrigible trickster
in the world. However, when they had talked and laughed over this new
occurrence to their hearts' content, the bishop persuaded Buonamico to
remain; and the painter agreed to set himself to work for the third
time, when the chapel was happily completed. But the ape, for his
punishment, and in expiation of the crimes he had committed, was shut up
in a strong wooden cage, and fastened on the platform where Buonamico
worked; there he was kept till the whole was finished; and no
imagination could conceive the leaps and flings of the creature thus
enclosed in his cage, nor the contortions he made with his feet, hands,
muzzle, and whole body, at the sight of others working, while he was not
permitted to do anything."