many intelligent courtiers, knew how much Giotto overpassed in
excellence all the other painters of his time. Afterwards, the thing
becoming known, the proverb arose from it: 'Thou art rounder than the
O of Giotto;' which it is still in custom to say to men of the grosser
clay; for the proverb is pretty, not only on account of the accident
of its origin, but because it has a double meaning, 'round' being
taken in Tuscany to express not only circular form, but slowness and
grossness of wit."

Such is the account of Vasari, which, at the first reading, might be
gravely called into question, seeing that the paintings at Pisa, to
which he ascribes the sudden extent of Giotto's reputation, have been
proved to be the work of Francesco da Volterra;[5] and since,
moreover, Vasari has even mistaken the name of the pope, and written
Boniface IX. for Boniface VIII. But the story itself must, I think, be
true; and, rightly understood, it is singularly interesting. I say,
rightly understood; for Lord Lindsay supposes the circle to have been
mechanically drawn by turning the sheet of vellum under the hand, as
now constantly done for the sake of speed at schools. But neither do
Vasari's words bear this construction, nor would the drawing so made
have borne the slightest testimony to Giotto's power. Vasari says
distinctly, "and turning his hand" (or, as I should rather read it,
"with a sweep of his hand") not "turning the vellum;" neither would a
circle produced in so mechanical a manner have borne distinct witness
to any thing except the draughtsman's mechanical ingenuity; and Giotto
had too much common sense, and too much courtesy, to send the pope a
drawing which did not really contain the evidence he required. Lord
Lindsay has been misled also by his own careless translation of
"pennello tinto di rosso" ("a _brush_ dipped in red,") by the word
"crayon." It is easy to draw the mechanical circle with a crayon, but