Many years ago I went to Florence, my first and last visit there, and in one of the great art galleries I saw this painting, which was labelled 'Andrea del Sarto: Self Portrait'. I stood in front of it for ages, totally transfixed. What a beautiful man. Of course I knew about this painter because of Browning's poem, which tells the sad story of his unhappy marriage and his dissatisfaction with his own work. I was reminded of all this by dovegreyreader's post on Browning, whose 200th birthday it is today, and thought I'd have a look at the painting. But oh dear -- since I was in Florence, it's turned out that this is not a self portrait at all -- it is someone else entirely. This is what he really looked like and though I'm sure he was a perfectly nice chap. I'm rather disappointed.