Next there came a vast number of children decently and quietly dressed, some singing, some repeating prayers, all carrying, dragging or supporting between them a strange and varied number of objects–books, dresses, pictures, statues, masks, false hair, boxes and cases of perfume, lutes, viols, mirrors, ornaments, gauds, manuscripts, cards, dice, cosmetics, chess-boards, cups and balls of gold, and all manner of rich, precious trifles and beautiful gorgeous examples of art. These were the vanities that had been collected during the Carnival by the very children who, under the rule of Lorenzo, had sung and danced, fought and played profane games in the streets they now traversed in orderly procession; then with the Carnival verses of the Medici on their lips, now with holy hymns. From every house in Florence they had demanded all vanities to be given to them, and when they received the offerings they sang a devotional work composed by Frà Girolamo. Now laden with these relics of the old pagan rule, they were making their way to the Piazza dei Signori, there to complete the purging of Florence by publicly burning the vanities that had been so long her temptation and her curse. The Friar descended from the pulpit and joined the procession in company with his personal supporters; chanting and rejoicing, the children made their joyful way, dragging with them the trophies of luxury and wantonness, whose perfume of musk, ambergris and nard gave a heaviness to the air as they passed. Frà Girolamo held himself, as was his habit, modestly, and kept his eye low in real humility; but in his great heart was a wild exultation that this city of his love had responded to the agonies of his exhortation and was turning from the wickedness of Borgia and Medici to the strong face of God. Beneath his rough and long robe beat a spirit so lofty and enthusiastic that had it not been hampered and held down to earth by the poor enfeebled body it had walked on the heads of all of them and conversed with Angels. But since He who made the soul of this Friar directed these things for His own ends, Frà Girolamo, who bore in his bosom a burning light of truth that might have served to redeem the world, worked in the wicked, lovely city of Florence and spent his strength to redeem this little circle of beloved sinners.