Lanzi relates the following amusing anecdote of Giovanni da Capugnano,
an artist of little merit, but whose assurance enabled him to attract
considerable attention in his day. "Misled by a pleasing self-delusion,
he believed himself born to become a painter; like that ancient
personage, mentioned by Horace, who imagined himself the owner of all
the vessels that arrived in the Athenian port. His chief talent lay in
making crucifixes, to fill up the angles, and in giving a varnish to the
balustrades. Next, he attempted landscape in water-colors, in which were
exhibited the most strange proportions; of houses less than the men;
these last smaller than his sheep; and the sheep again than his birds.
Extolled, however, in his own district, he determined to leave his
native mountains, and figure on a wider theatre at Bologna; there he
opened his house, and requested the Caracci, the only artists he
believed to be more learned than himself, to furnish him with a pupil,
whom he intended to polish in his studio. Lionello Spada, an admirable
wit, accepted this invitation; he went and copied designs, affecting the
utmost obsequiousness towards his master. At length, conceiving it time
to put an end to the jest, he left behind him a most exquisite painting
of Lucretia, and over the entrance of the chamber some fine satirical
octaves, in apparent praise, but real ridicule of Capugnano. His worthy
master only accused Lionello of ingratitude, for having acquired from
him in so short a space the art of painting so beautifully from his
designs; but the Caracci at last acquainted him with the joke, which
acted as a complete antidote to his folly."