Threatened, he answered in parable.
He was then taken to the torture-cell, stripped of all clothing, and a thin, strong rope passed under his arms. He was suddenly drawn up, and dropped.
This was repeated until the cord around the man's body cut the skin and his form was covered with blood.
The physically sensitive nature of the man gave way and he recanted.
Being taken to his cell he repeated all he had said against the Pope, and called aloud, "Lord Jesus, pardon me that I forsook thy truth—it was the torture—I now repeat all I ever said from my pulpit—Lord Jesus, pardon!"
Again he was taken to the torture-chamber and all was gone over as before.
He and his two companions were now formally condemned to death and their day of execution set.
To know the worst is peace—it is uncertainty that kills.
A great calm came over Savonarola—he saw the gates of Heaven opening for him. He was able now to sleep and eat. The great brown eyes beamed with love and benediction, and his hands were raised only in blessing to friend and foe alike.
The day of execution came, and the Piazza Signoria was filled with a vast concourse of people. Every spare foot of space was taken. Platforms had been erected and seats sold for fabulous prices. Every window was filled with faces.