the will of the Pope, nor by the will of the Emperor, but by the will of Florence.  Yet Savonarola, the Ferrarese, whether or no he refused him absolution, did not hesitate to denounce him, with a wild flood of eloquence and fanatic prophecy worthy of the eleventh century.  “Leave the future alone,” Lorenzo had counselled him kindly enough:  it was just that he could not do, since for him the present was too disastrous.  And the future?—­the future was big with Charles VIII and his carnival army, gay with prostitutes, bright with favours, and behind him loomed the fires of Piazza della Signoria.

The peace of Italy is dead, the Pope told his Cardinals, when in the spring of 1492 Lorenzo passed away at Careggi It was true.  In September 1494, Charles VIII, on his way to Naples, came into Italy, was received by Ludovico of Milan at Asti, while his Switzers sacked Rapallo.  Was this, then, the saviour of Savonarola’s dreams?  “It is the Lord who is leading those armies,” was the friar’s announcement.  Amid all the horror that followed, it is not Savonarola that we see to-day as the hero of a situation he had himself helped to create, but Piero Capponi, who, Piero de’ Medici having surrendered Pietrasanta and Sarzana, stood for the Republic.  On 9th November Piero and Giuliano his brother fled out of Porta di S. Gallo, while Savonarola with other ambassadors went to meet the King.  A few days later, on 17th November 1494, at about four o’clock in the afternoon, Pisa in the meantime having revolted, Charles entered Florence[99] with Cardinal della Rovere, the soldier and future Pope, and in his train came the splendour and chivalry of France, the Scotch bowmen, the Gascons, and the Swiss.  “Viva la Francia!” cried the people, and Charles entered the Duomo at six o’clock in the evening, down a lane of torches to the high altar.  And coming out he was conducted to the house of Piero de’ Medici, the people crying still all the time “Viva la Francia!” The days passed in feasting and splendour, Charles began to talk of restoring the Medici, nor were riots infrequent in Borgo Ognissanti; in Borgo S. Frediano the Switzers and French pillaged and massacred, and were slain too in return.  Florence, always ready for street fighting, was, as we may think, too much for the barbarians.  On 24th November the treaty was signed, an indemnity being paid by the city, but the rioting did not cease.  Landucci gives a very vivid account of it.  Even the King himself was not slow to pillage:  he was discontented with the indemnity offered, and threatened to loot the city. “Io faro dare nelle trombe,” said he; Piero Capponi was not slow to answer, “E noi faremo dare nello campane”—­and we will sound our bells.  The King gave in, and Florence was saved.  On 26th November he heard Mass for the last time in S. Maria del Fiore, and on the 28th he departed—­si parti el Re di Firenze dopo desinare, e ando albergo alla Certosa e tutta sua gente gli ando dietro e innanzi, che poche ce ne rimase, says Landucci thankfully.