The Dome of Florence was crowded. All waited for the sermon in anxiety and excitement, but attentive and motionless. Mounting the pulpit, and surveying the multitude in impressive silence for a few moments, he thundered out: “And behold, I, even I, do bring a flood of waters upon the earth.” A thrill of terror convulsed the vast assemblage. Pico di Mirandola relates that a cold shiver ran through all his bones, and that the hairs of his head stood on end; and Savonarola has recorded that he was profoundly moved. That very day the news had arrived that a horde of foreign troops were descending the Alps to conquer Italy, and popular credulity made their numbers countless, invincible in arms, gigantic, cruel, and ferocious. “Having, before the arrival of the King of France, just closed the ark, these sermons caused such terror, alarm, sobbing, and tears, that every one passed through the streets without speaking, more dead than alive.” (MS. history in Magliabecchian library.) Terror there was indeed. Italy was helpless. There was neither nation nor national army. The princes were defenceless, and the whole country must fall an easy prey to the invader. Men saw rivers of blood before them. What could save them? All rushed to Savonarola, imploring counsel and help. He alone could succor them. All his words had been verified. All those whose deaths he foretold had gone to their graves. Punishment threatened had begun. The sword of the Lord had indeed descended upon the earth. Not only the people flocked about him, but the graver men and magistrates of Florence asked his counsel, and his admirers and adherents became in a moment, as if by magic, the rulers of the city.
Here may be said to terminate the monastic life of Savonarola, and, in order to follow his career, we must with him quit the cloister, and accompany him among the people of Florence down in the public places.
[MADAME AGNES.]
FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES DUBOIS.
CHAPTER XIV.
PERHAPS PROPHETIC.
It was the first time for many weeks that Louis had met Eugénie alone. He felt greatly excited, and naturally said to himself: “Ought I to manifest any appearance of avoiding her?... Or, on the contrary, shall I keep on? Any avoidance might make her think unfavorably of me.... But would it be prudent to speak to her?...” While thus debating with himself, he looked at Eugénie as she advanced towards him, handsome and dignified as ever, and as calm as he was agitated. He still kept on, yielding to an irresistible attraction without bringing himself to an account for it. As he advanced, he recalled how Françoise had praised her. “That dear woman,” he said, “could have no interest in deceiving me. A soul so upright and pure could only tell the truth. And who has had a better opportunity of knowing Mlle. Eugénie?... Well, I must study this unique girl a little more!... I will speak to her!... I have judged her too severely. I must learn her real nature. I must show her what I am. She has, I am sure, conceived some suspicion about me which she may already regret. At all events, my line of conduct here is plainly marked out. I am resolved to regain her esteem, and obtain her assistance in the good I am doing, in order that it may be done more effectually and speedily. Now is the time to make the attempt!...”
As he said this to himself, he met Eugénie. She did not appear at all embarrassed as he advanced to speak to her, but said, in a frank, natural tone: “You have been to see my patient; she spoke of you yesterday.”