spect it do not sin.' All was drawn up with strict legal form, and mutual covenants were signed and exchanged. Ten citizens were chosen to regulate the day, and to make the arrangements for the ordeal.

On Saturday, the vigil of Palm Sunday, April 7th, a pile was erected on the piazza of the Signory, forty yards long, with a narrow path in the centre, of every kind of combustibles, and charged, it is said, with gunpowder. Five hundred soldiers kept the circle. But besides this, 500 Compagnacci guarded the Franciscans; 300 Frateschi were enrolled to protect Savonarola. The Signory took their places in a lofty balcony; the crowds around, above, at every window, on every roof, baffled calculation. A loggia, called that of Orcagna or of the Lanzi, was assigned to the two Orders; in their compartment the Dominicans erected an altar. Before he set forth, Savonarola celebrated mass at St. Mark's to a great number of the faithful; but in his short discourse he spoke not without some doubts: 6 God had not revealed the issue of the ordeal, or whether it would take place. If he were asked, he supposed that it would.' It is conjectured that there were rumours of a brief from Rome, prohibiting the ordeal. They marched in procession; Savonarola, in his priestly robes, bore the Host. He placed it on the altar, at which Buonavicini knelt in humble devotion. There arose a deafening burst of chaunting from the Piagnoni; the Franciscans maintained a solemn silence. The Signory gave the sign to advance to the trial. The spectators were in the agony of expectation. Then began a strange altercation: the Franciscans would not consent that their adversary should enter the fire in his sacerdotal dress. His robes might be enchanted: they were not content with his changing his dress for a friar's garb: they would have him stripped naked, lest there should be some magic charm about him. The Franciscans stood watching every motion of Savonarola, lest he should lay some spell on his champion. The crowd grew weary of this wrangling; but it ended not there. The Franciscans protested against the small red crucifix, always borne by the followers of Savonarola. If not the cross,' exclaimed Savonarola, 'let him bear the Host.' The Franciscans raised a cry of horror at the sacrilegious proposal to expose the Redeemer's body to the fire. Savonarola stood firm: it had been revealed, Burlamacchi says, to Fra Silvestro Maruffi, that the champion must not enter the fire without the Host. On every side was fierce dispute, tumult, confusion. The Compagnacci strove to approach Savonarola, and put him to death. Salviati, amid his Piagnoni, drew a line with his hand, and threatened Dolfo Spina, the captain of the Compagnacci, to strike

the

the man dead who should pass that line. Hours had passed, the day was wearing away; suddenly came down torrents of rain ; the Signory seized the opportunity of declaring that God would not permit the ordeal to proceed. The Franciscans stole quietly away; but Savonarola, as he came in greater pomp, must retire with more solemn dignity: he had to bear back the Host.*

Conceive the fury of a vast populace, thus strung to the most intense excitement, baffled, fatigued, and, no slight aggravation, drenched with rain. There was one burst of imprecation, and all hurled at the fated head of Savonarola. The Franciscans were obscure, unknown men: it was the final appeal to God in the cause of Savonarola,-of Savonarola, who for several years had been the centre of their thoughts, the object either of their fond idolatry, or of their no less intense hatred: the legislator, the prophet, on whose lips they had hung; who had swayed them in cowering terror, or in ardent admiration. And now he had himself fallen back like a coward from the post of honour: he had put forward his poor deluded follower, and even had shrunk from exposing him, and so his whole cause, to the judgment of God. He had quibbled, shuffled, basely eluded the trial. What contempt could be sufficiently contemptuous? What terms of reproach'poltroon, hypocrite, impostor, false prophet'could be too scornful for one who had defrauded them of their promised spectacle? Woe to him who excites the populace to the madness of high-wrought expectation, to be succeeded by the madness of disappointment! With difficulty the slow and broken procession made its way to St. Mark's, amid the jeers, curses, and peltings of the people, though environed by the body-guard which the Signory sent to protect them. The Host alone-some believed from its inherent awfulness, some from its miraculous power-saved the person of Savonarola from the utmost violence. For the last time the gates of the church closed on their devoted Prior: the spell was broken; the wand of the magician had crumbled in his hands. Once more he mounted the pulpit; made a faithful exposition of the events of the day; gave good counsel to his scanty audience, and, after a hymn, dismissed them in peace.

The night passed away: in the morning some of the friends of Savonarola were for taking up arms, and anticipating the threatened danger: they were repressed by the prudence of Francesco Valori. The Priors met: it was agreed, that for the public peace the Friar must leave Florence; a sentence of

We agree with M. Perrens in following Nardi, as the most probable account of the order of events.

banishment was passed: he had not the time, if he had had the will, to obey it. His place in the pulpit of the cathedral was to be filled by Mariano degli Ughi. No sooner had the preacher appeared than there was a cry, 'To arms! to arms!' The Compagnacci, in strong bands, thronged towards St. Mark's: the Signory passed a resolution to arrest the prior. This seemed to authorise the movements of his enemies. The convent was begirt by hostile bands. On their first appearance two Piagnoni had been massacred; blood had thus been shed; a few penetrated into the chapel, and insulted the worshippers: they were with difficulty ejected; the gates were closed and barred. The convent, strange as it may seem, was prepared for a siege: there were arms, munitions, even cannon. But on the first message of the Signory, commanding all but the monks to quit the convent, some withdrew. Francesco Valori had set the example, after urging submission, of retreat through a postern-gate: it was hoped that he went to rally the Piagnoni without to a rescue. The more fanatic followers rushed to arms; they were headed by Benedetto, a distinguished miniature painter. Among the rest was Luca della Robbia: the hands accustomed to model those chaste and exquisite Madonnas wielded a sword: he himself deposes to his having passed that sword through the reins of one man; struck another in the face; and disarmed two more. The defence was desperate: they tore off the tiles of the buildings, and showered them down on their assailants." In the mean time Savonarola had made a procession through the cloisters and had taken up his post upon his knees before the altar. Francesco Valori was summoned before the Signory: he was foully murdered on the way and his palace plundered, as were many others of the principal Piagnoni. Warning after warning came from the Signory to St. Mark's, threatening confiscation, exile, to all laymen who should remain in the convent. The defenders gradually fell off. A new band of 800 ruffians, of the lowest class, mere plunderers, joined the assailants. At length came a peremptory order from the Signory and commissioners, to seize the persons of Savonarola, Domenico Buonvicini, Silvestro Maruffi. Even then Savonarola might have been saved by flight: he was betrayed by a Judas, as he is termed by the poet, the author of the 'Cedrus Libani,' the most accurate chronicler of the event. Malatesta Sacramoro declared that the convent ought not to be destroyed, for his sake: The Shepherd should lay down his life

* Compare the whole account in the ' Cedrus Libani,' the author of which took great part in the strife. This, he says, was unknown to Savonarola.

+ Yet Sacramoro had been one of those who had offered to pass through the fire. Marchese, 'Documenti,' p. 174.

for

or the sheep.' Savonarola made a short speech, in Latin, to his followers, and took a touching farewell. Together with Domenico (Silvestro was not arrested till later, betrayed in his concealment by the same Malatesta) he came forth into the piazza, their hands bound behind their backs. They were received with a wild howl of joy, and a volley of stones. The guards crossed their halberds above them, to prevent their being torn to pieces; his enemies in profane mockery, adapted to him words from the New Testament; words uttered to his Divine Master at the same sad hour. They struck him behind. 'Prophesy who it was that smote thee.' They twisted his delicate hands so as to wring out a cry of pain: one kicked him behind, and coarsely said, 'There is the seat of his prophetic power.'

The intelligence flew to Rome. The remorseless joy of the Pope broke out in five briefs. One congratulated the Signory on their virtuous rigour. It enjoined them, having questioned Savonarola on all which concerned the State, to send him to the frontier, to be tried for his religious offences at Rome. The second gave the vicar-general of the archbishop and the chapter, power to absolve all concerned in the attack on the convent, even if guilty of homicide, and to suspend all sentences against the others; to publish a jubilee at Florence, a plenary indulgence, with re-admission into the pale of the Church, to all the Piagnoni who should repent of their errors. The other briefs were to the Franciscans and Francesco di Puglia, highly approving their zeal and success in unmasking the impostor. The Signory had not awaited these briefs to enter on the interrogatory of Savonarola. On the 9th, the very next day, began the examination of the prisoners: it was continued, with the exception of Easter-day, till the 19th. The answers of Savonarola were of studied obscurity. The first day he was submitted to torture of that kind, which, in the horrible nomenclature of the dungeon, is called hoisting. A cord is passed under the arm-pits; the body suddenly hauled up, and let down with violence that wrenches every joint. This was thought the mildest torment. M. Perrens observes that Savonarola himself had proposed to apply it to obstinate gamblers. But the frame of Savonarola was, as is common in men of excitable temperament, singularly delicate and sensitive.* He broke down at once, and confessed all which they asked: no sooner was the agony over than he revoked his confession. Examination, torture, re-examination, wrung forth but

Α

In the odious letter addressed to the Pope by the Signory, in which they humbly thank his Holiness for his great goodness in allowing them to torture a man in orders, they assert that he was 'potentissimi corporis,' and rather boast of his being tried multâ et assiduâ questione multis diebus.-Marchese, p. 185.

a wild incoherent mass of confession, and recantation of confession, on which no legal process could be framed. There needed a subtle villain, who could mould all this into something of which law might take cognisance. A notary of bad character, one Ceccone, offered himself, at the price of 400 crowns, as the agent in this infamy. He was concealed during the interrogatory; out of the admissions or free or enforced confessions of the friar he made a long, minute report, extending over his whole life, full of gross contradictions, and monstrous improbabilities. This was adroitly substituted for the genuine report, and published to wondering Florence. Of the villany of Ceccone there can be no doubt. It rests not only on the authority of Savonarola's admiring biographers but on the honest Nardi and the grave Guicciardini. It is confirmed by the process itself, which may be read with all its palpable fictions. The wretch, however, did not satisfy his employers, and received but some paltry 30 crowns. On the 19th April the report was read to Savonarola: he was asked if he admitted its truth. Savonarola would strive no longer. He answered, in ambiguous phrase, 'What I have written is true,' or 'What I have written I have written.' The Judas of the faction Malatesta Sacramoro, summoned with other friars of St. Mark's to bear witness against him, said, tauntingly, Ex ore tuo credidi, et ex ore tuo discredo.' Savonarola deigned no reply.

Even now there seemed difficulty in proceeding to capital punishment. Savonarola remained in his prison without further interrogatory for a month. He employed his time in writing a commentary on the Penitential Psalm 1.; he began another on the xxxth-In thee, O Lord, have I put my trust.' Pen and paper were then forbidden him. In the meantime a new Signory was to take office on the 1st of May. There was even now a dread of re-action, though the heads of the Piagnoni had been sent into exile, and others hostile to him recalled. Recourse was had to the unconstitutional measure of disfranchising 200 members of the Great Council-Veri de' Medici, a known enemy of the Friar, was Gonfalonier of Justice.

The first act of the new Signory was to demand permission from the Pope to proceed to the capital sentence. Alexander still desired to make an awful example of the rebel in Rome. But the Signory insisted that his punishment in Florence was absolutely necessary to disabuse the deluded people. All were most eager, they said, to see the punishment of the deceiver. They adhered resolutely to their prior right of vengeance. They thanked the Pope in words of incredible baseness for his divine virtue and immense goodness in ceding to them this privilege.

On