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Savonarola
by
“Promote him,” said Lorenzo, “and his zeal will dilute itself, and culture will come to take the place of frenzy. Art is better than austerity, and silken robes and ‘broidered chasubles are preferable to horsehair and rope. A crown looks better than a tonsure.”
And Savonarola became Prior of Saint Mark’s.
Now the first duty, according to established custom, of a newly appointed Prior was to call, in official robes, and pay his respects to Lorenzo, the nominal governor of Florence. It was just a mere form, you know–simply showing the people that Saint Mark’s was still loyal to the State.
Lorenzo appointed a day and sent word that at a certain hour he would be pleased to welcome the Prior, and congratulate him upon his elevation. At the same time the Prior was expected to say mass in the private chapel of the governor, and bestow his blessing upon the House of the Medici.
But Savonarola treated the invitation to call with disdain, and turned the messengers of Lorenzo away with scant courtesy. Instead of joining hands with Lorenzo he preached a sermon at the Cathedral, bitterly arraigning the aristocracy, prophesying their speedy downfall, and beseeching all men who wished to be saved to turn, repent, make restitution and secure the pardon of God, ere it was too late. The sermon shook the city, and other addresses of the same tenor followed daily. It was a “revival,” of the good old Methodist kind–and religious emotion drifting into frenzy is older far than history.
The name of Lorenzo was not mentioned personally, but all saw it was a duel to the death between the plain people and the silken and perfumed rulers. It was the same old fight–personified by Savonarola on one side and Lorenzo on the other.
Lorenzo sunk his pride and went to Saint Mark’s for an interview with the Prior. He found a man of adamant and iron, one blind and deaf to political logic, one who scorned all persuasion and in whose lexicon there was no such word as expediency.
Lorenzo turned away, whipped and disappointed–the prophecies of impending doom had even touched his own stout heart. He was stricken with fever, and the extent of his fear is shown that in his extremity he sent for the Prior of Saint Mark’s to come to his bedside.
Even there, Savonarola was not softened. Before granting absolution to the sick man, he demanded three things:
“First, you must repent and feel a true faith in God, who in His mercy alone can pardon.”
Lorenzo assented.
“Second, you must give up your ill-gotten wealth to the people.”
Lorenzo groaned, and finally reluctantly agreed.
“Third, you must restore to Florence her liberty.”
Lorenzo groaned and moaned, and turned his face to the wall.
Savonarola grimly waited half an hour, but no sign coming from the stricken man, he silently went his way.
The next day Lorenzo the Magnificent, aged forty-two, died–died unabsolved.
* * * * *
Lorenzo left three sons. The eldest was Pietro, just approaching his majority, who was the recognized successor of his father. The second son was Giuliano, who had already been made a cardinal at thirteen years of age, and who was destined to be the powerful Pope, Leo X.
The death of Lorenzo had been indirectly foretold by Savonarola, and now some of his disciples were not slow in showing an ill-becoming exultation. They said, “I told you so!” The intensity of the revival increased, and there was danger of its taking on the form of revolution.
Savonarola saw this mob spirit at work, and for a time moderated his tone. But there were now occasional outbreaks between his followers and those of the Medici. A guard was necessary to protect Savonarola as he passed from Saint Mark’s to the different churches where he preached. The police and soldiers were on the side of the aristocracy who supported them.