stern monk Savonarola was grieving over the sin
and vanity that went on around him. He loved
Florence with all his heart, and he could not bear
the thought that she was forgetting, in the whirl of
pleasure, all that was good and pure and worth the
winning.

Then, like a battle-cry, his voice sounded through
the city, and roused the people from their foolish
dreams of ease and pleasure. Every one flocked to
the great cathedral to hear Savonarola preach, and
Sandro Botticelli left for a while his studio and his
painting and became a follower of the great preacher.
Never again did he paint those pictures of earthly
subjects which had so delighted Lorenzo. When he
once more returned to his work, it was to paint his
sad-eyed Madonnas; and the music which still floated
through his visions was now like the song of angels.

The boys of Florence especially had grown wild
and rough during the reign of pleasure, and they
were the terror of the city during carnival time.
They would carry long poles, or `stili,' and bar the
streets across, demanding money before they would
let the people pass. This money they spent on
drinking and feasting, and at night they set up
great trees in the squares or wider streets and
lighted huge bonfires around them. Then would
begin a terrible fight with stones, and many of the
boys were hurt, and some even killed.