University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Savonarola. Valori.
SAVONAROLA.
You bring
Grave news, Valori.

VALORI.
Graver never brought.
You know how lightly still the French King holds
His promises to Florence. Not his word,
Sworn in the Duomo on the Gospels, nor
Your threats and prophecies have kept him leal.
For fourteen thousand florins hath he sold
Their freedom to the Pisans, and for ten
All the artillery collected there.
Genoa for twenty thousand florins gets
Sarzana, and for thirty Lucca holds
Pietrasanta.

SAVONAROLA.
Facts, though grave, not new.
Have you none younger?

VALORI.
Since Capponi died,
Mortally stricken at Soiana, none
Of all our Captains have into our camp
Fortune seduced; and I am loath to turn
My back upon the city, wherein plot
Bigi, Arrabbiati, all the foes
Of the Grand Council and free government,
Once by your voice established, but now left
To me to uphold. The Ottimati, now
The Medici no longer govern, men
Like Bonsi and Vespucci, help no more,
But rather thwart.

SAVONAROLA.
The Pope hath silenced me.
How can I speak?

VALORI.
The League astutely formed
By Ludovico Il Moro 'twixt himself,
The Pope, and Venice, to our detriment,
Soon as King Charles was back in France, enticed
The Emperor Maximilian o'er the Alps.
He, well received in Pisa, now blockades
The port of Leghorn, with the aid of ships
Procured from Venice.

SAVONAROLA.
Do you think that news
So sharp and pointed hath not pierced these walls?
But you talk politics of earth, that here
Are close on sacrilege. What have I to do
With your affairs of State? A thousand times
I have protested, and I still protest,
That such is not my office. If I helped
To heal your discords, and establish laws
That shelter liberty and virtue, know,
I did it for God's glory, not for man.
What did men say? This Friar thirsts for power,
For gold, and for the Cardinal's red robe.
O Lord! that searchest hearts, the robe I want
Is the red robe of martyrdom alone,
Thou givest to thy Saints! O give it me quick,
And end my tribulations!

VALORI
(aside).
He is rapt
In ecstasy, his mind above the ground.
How shall I draw him back? But, Prior, see,
The currents of the upper and lower air
Are ofttimes contrary; yet 'tis the last
Which sway the motion of the things that have
Their roothold in the earth. The nearest thought
To every heart in Florence, as you know,
Is to recover Pisa.

SAVONAROLA.
And to mine,
The nearest, to recover souls to God.
You would see Florence great, and so would I,
But great in goodness. You mistake my end,
You with the rest.

VALORI.
If once the people think
Charles of Anjou will play us ever false,
Whereas the League, if joined, would give us back
Pisa, with all the Tuscan fortresses,
The very Piagnoni will demand
That profitable compact. Charles our foe,
Your prophecies all falsified, the base
Of your celestial menaces collapsed,
Where then would be your hold upon their hearts?
Already they are clamouring for a sign
To prove that you misled them not, when first
You in the pulpit welcomed the French King
As the New Cyrus and the Scourge of God.

SAVONAROLA.
And such he was, and such will he return,
If they repent not. Did I not foretell
His speedy punishment if he forbore
To renovate God's Church? And now what news?
Is not his eldest son, the Dauphin, dead?
What sign do they want? If needed, it will come.
But Thine, O Lord, the moment, Thine the hour,
Not theirs to ask for, and not mine to grant.

VALORI.
Still rambling 'mong the clouds. But hear you more!
Lamberto dell' Antella, venturing back
Without our leave to Tuscan territory,
Hath been arrested, and, by papers found
Upon his person, evidence provides
Of a conspiracy to reinstate
Piero de' Medici.

SAVONAROLA.
And with whose help?

VALORI.
The help of more than I can stay to count:
But chief among the treasonable band
Del Nero, Niccolò Ridolfi, with
Lorenzo Tornabuoni, Pucci, Cambi,
Men all of note.

SAVONAROLA.
So to be noted well.
The Medici must not return.

VALORI.
Then you must stir
The people with your voice, not leave to me
Sole weight of government. Piero once back.
Infested would again the city be
With luxury and lust; their songs obscene
And impure revelries once more usurp
The streets of Florence.

SAVONAROLA.
That may never be.
Christ bids me preach; no Pope shall silence me.
Go tell the people I exhort them bear
From out its shrine the sacred effigy
Of the Madonna dell' Impruneta round
The city walls, and wait for farther news.
Then, if our enemies be routed not,
I straight towards Pisa, crucifix in hand,
Will march, to raise the siege.

VALORI.
But you will preach?

SAVONAROLA.
God, Who knows all things, knows if I shall preach;
Press me no more. My message bear to them,
And see, Valori, treat you leniently
Lorenzo Tornabuoni.

VALORI.
Wherefore him?

SAVONAROLA.
Because he is young and gallant.

VALORI.
With more years
And more seductive graces to conspire
Against the Commonwealth. Del Nero's craft,
With Tornabuoni's vigour yoked, would make
The unlikeliest plots succeed. Together they
Have striven to rise; together let them fall!

[Enter Frà Domenico and Frà Silvestro, and a Lay-Brother.]
FRÀ DOMENICO.
Frà Mariano, the Franciscan monk,
The slimiest of your enemies, demands
Admission to the Convent.

SAVONAROLA.
Tell him to enter. Frà Silvestro, see
All the community be present here,
To hear his words.

[Exeunt Lay-Brother and Frà Silvestro.]
VALORI.
Prior, I take my leave.
But wanting not in reverence, I adjure
You heed my point.

SAVONAROLA.
Guard well the Commonwealth.

[Exit Valori.]