It were much to be wished that MECHEL had informed us, from what he had copied the _Dance of Death_; whether, as he probably did, from Drawings; and, if so, where those Drawings were to be found, and on what further Evidence he had ventured to ascribe them to HOLBEIN; for, as will presently appear, there is very great Reason, at least, for doubting the Fact, notwithstanding that the four first Cuts of the IMAGINES MORTIS occur among the Cuts to the Old Testament, printed in 1539, and which we are told expressly in a Poem, and also in an Epigram, of BORBONIUS, prefixed to them, are of the Hand of HOLBEIN; but whether by this we are to understand, that he designed or engraved them, or both, we are left to seek. After having thus ventured to question in general Terms, HOLBEIN’s Title to the Merit of this Work, it is incumbent on me to shew on what my Doubts are founded, and this I am prepared to do; for, in the Dedication to the Edition of the IMAGINES MORTIS, in 1538, is a Passage, of which I here insert a faithful Translation:
“To return then to our _Cuts of Death_, we now very justly regret the Death of him who has here designed such elegant Figures, exceeding as much all the Examples hitherto, as the Paintings of APELLES, or of ZEUXIS, exceed the Moderns. For his sorrowful Histories, with their Descriptions severely verified, excite such Admiration in the Beholders, that they think the Figures of Death appear as if quite alive, and the Living as if dead. Which makes me think that Death, fearing that this excellent Painter would paint him so much alive, that he should no longer be feared as Death, and that, for this Reason, he himself would become immortal; for this very Cause hastened so much his Days, that he could not finish several other Cuts already by him traced, and among others that of the Waggoner overthrown and bruised under his overturned Waggon; the Wheels and Horses of which are there represented so frightfully, that as much Horror is occasioned to view their Downfall, as Delight to contemplate the Liquorishness of one Figure of Death, who is secretly sucking through a Reed the Wine from the emptied Cask: To which imperfect Histories, as well as to the inimitable Rainbow, no one has dared to put the last Hand.”