There is little to add relating to his school on which none conferred greater credit than his son, Domenico Tintoretto. He trod in the steps of his father; but, like Ascanius following Æneas, "non passibus æquis." Still he may boast much resemblance in his countenances, in his colouring, and in harmony, but there is a wide distinction in point of genius, though some of his most spirited pieces have been ascribed to his father, or at least suspected of having been chiefly indebted to his hand. Many works, however, upon a large scale, are attributed to the son; those which he has filled with portraits being far the most commended; his merit in this branch having been thought equal by Zanetti to that of his father. One of these is seen at the college of St. Mark, where, as in the rest of his compositions, the figures are disposed with more sobriety than those of Jacopo, as well as finished with more care, and with more enduring colours. As he grew older his style fell somewhat into that of a mannerist, which at that period, as we shall see, much prevailed. By these distinctions his productions may be frequently known from his father's, and we may be enabled to refute the assertions of dealers, who, to obtain a higher price, attribute them indiscriminately to Jacopo. Yet Domenico produced many pieces, more especially portraits for different collections, besides several mythological and scriptural histories, to which he sometimes added his name, as in his picture boasting such exquisite tints which adorns the Campidoglio; the subject of which is a penitent Magdalen. Contemporary with Domenico, we ought not to omit the name of his sister Marietta, so exquisite a painter of portraits, as to receive invitations from the Emperor Maximilian, and from Philip II. of Spain, to visit their respective courts. But her father would never consent to such a measure, in order to enjoy her society at home, though he was deprived of her not long afterwards, cut off in the flower of her genius and her age.