Medici, I have never spoken
a single word against them, except in the way that everybody
talks--as, for instance, about the sack of Prato; for if the stones
could have cried out, I think they would have spoken. There have been
many other things said since then, to which, when I heard them, I have
answered: 'If they are really acting in this way, they are doing
wrong;' not that I believed the reports; and God grant they are not
true. About a month ago, some one who makes a show of friendship for
me spoke very evilly about their deeds. I rebuked him, told him that
it was not well to talk so, and begged him not to do so again to me.
However, I should like Buonarroto quietly to find out how the rumour
arose of my having calumniated the Medici; for if it is some one who
pretends to be my friend, I ought to be upon my guard."

The Buonarroti family, though well affected toward Savonarola, were
connected by many ties of interest and old association with the
Medici, and were not powerful enough to be the mark of violent
political persecution. Nevertheless, a fine was laid upon them by the
newly restored Government. This drew forth the following epistle from
Michelangelo:--

"Dearest Father,--Your last informs me how things are going on at
Florence, though I already knew something. We must have patience,
commit ourselves to God, and repent of our sins; for these trials are
solely due to them, and more particularly to pride and ingratitude. I
never conversed with a people more ungrateful and puffed up than the
Florentines. Therefore, if judgment comes, it is but right and
reasonable. As for the sixty ducats you tell me you are fined, I think
this a scurvy trick, and am exceedingly annoyed. However, we must have
patience as long as it pleases God. I will write and enclose two lines
to Giuliano de' Medici. Read them, and if you like to present them to
him, do so; you will see whether they are likely to be of any use. If
not, consider whether we can sell our property and go to live
elsewhere.... Look to your life and health; and if you cannot share
the honours of the land like other burghers, be contented that bread
does not fail you, and live well with Christ, and poorly, as I do
here; for I live in a sordid way, regarding neither life nor
honours--that is, the world--and suffer the greatest hardships and
innumerable anxieties and dreads. It is now about fifteen years since
I had a single hour of well-being, and all that I have