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| Baccio Bandinelli Martyrdom of Saint Laurence ca. 1525 drawing Musée du Louvre |
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| Marcantonio Raimondi after Baccio Bandinelli Martyrdom of Saint Laurence ca. 1525 engraving Musée du Louvre |
"The strides made in engraving during those two or three years [in the mid-1520s] are largely thanks to Clement himself [Pope Clement VII Medici]. Given the curiosity and sensitivity of this enlightened aristocrat, it is not surprising to find that he enjoyed the reputation of an art expert. There is no reason to doubt the authenticity of the anecdote Vasari relates on this subject –
Once out of prison, Marcantonio finished engraving a large plate destined for Baccio Bandinelli, showing nude figures roasting Saint Laurence. [Marcantonio was briefly imprisoned over the scandal caused by his engraved plates based on Giulio Romano's pornographic drawings.] It was considered very beautiful and engraved with unbelievable finesse, despite Bandinelli's unjustified complaints to the Pope, while Marcantonio was still working on it, that it was full of mistakes. But this discourteous behavior only netted Bandinelli what he deserved. Marcantonio finished the plate without telling Baccio and, fully aware of his calumnies, brought it to the Pope, who was a great lover of graphic art. First he showed him Bandinelli's original drawing, and then the print, and the Pope saw that Marcantonio had not only not made any mistakes but had judiciously corrected many of Bandinelli's erroneous details; and not minor ones. Marcantonio had shown greater skill in engraving than Baccio in drawing. The Pope congratulated him and from then on always received him warmly.
The spring of 1527 unfortunately put an end to that remarkable period. . . . Marcantonio lost everything: "His copper plates, already worn out from overuse, were carried off by German soldiers and others at the time of the sack." Once back in Bologna, he was never heard from again."
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"Other artists, painters, and engravers remained in town where the arrival of the imperial army took them by surprise. Their misfortunes, often dreadful ones, have been recounted in some detail by Vasari who, in Rome around 1540, collected all available accounts of the sack. He was able to talk to Peruzzi, Rosso, Perino, among others. His book, which appeared in 1550, is packed with anecdotes that need only be rearranged to reconstruct the bitter adventures of sixteen first-rate artists. It is a chapter out of a thriller. There were deaths, such as that of the engraver Marco Dente. Of the two famous façade decorators, Maturino and Polidoro, the first wanted to flee, was captured and, it was said, died of the plague; the second made it to Naples. Others were arrested, assaulted, made to work as porters, as slaves, and were furthermore forced by imperial troops to pay a taglia. Ruined, shamed, without options, Rosso had to carry heavy burdens barefoot, and transported the contents of a sausage-maker's shop."
– André Chastel, The Sack of Rome, 1527, translated by Beth Archer, 1983 (expanded from the A.W. Mellon Lectures in the Fine Arts, 1977, and published by Princeton University Press and the National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.)