In June 1489, Florence conferred the freedom of the city on her illustrious guest, and gave him the right of acquiring property to the value of 6,000 gold florins. It is evident that Lorenzo was anxious to bind him more and more closely to himself and his home. ‘The Count of Mirandola,’ he wrote on June 19 to Lanfredini,[81] ‘is staying permanently with us, and lives as retired as a monk, continually working at theology, and commenting on the Psalms, &c. He reads the service as is usual for priests, strictly observes the fasts, and has the most simple household that necessity permits. He appears to me a pattern for others. But he desires to be cleared before the Holy Father from the charges brought against him, and to receive a brief by which he shall be re-admitted as a true son and a good Christian. I have this much at heart too, for there are few men dearer to me or that I esteem more highly. To my mind he is a true Christian, for he conducts himself so that the whole city would be ready to stand surety for him. Endeavour to obtain this brief in due form, that his conscience may be set at rest. This will stand in the first rank among the many pleasures you have procured me.’ The affair, however, made no progress. The intention at Rome seemed to be to commission the Bishop of Vaison to receive the explanations of Pico, who declared himself ready to submit simply and entirely to the papal decision. About this time the publication of his commentary on Genesis gave fresh scandal. A feeling hostile to him seemed to be gaining ground. On August 17, Lanfredini wrote that Lorenzo had better advise the count simply to beg for absolution and perform the needful penance. On October 6 he declared that it was only out of consideration for Lorenzo that the Pope was so lenient to the culprit; to satisfy Lorenzo by giving the cardinalate to his son was quite another thing—so his Holiness had said—from lending an ear to his intercessions in a case where the faith was at stake. Finally Lorenzo lost patience when he found that the Pope was in the hands of his friend’s opponents. ‘I am greatly displeased,’ he wrote in October 1489, ‘at hearing of the censures on Mirandola’s work. If I were not convinced that this persecution arises from envy and malice, I would not speak of it. Various learned and God-fearing theologians here have read the book, and all approve it as excellent and Christian. I myself am not such a bad Christian that I would keep silence and accept the book if I thought otherwise. If he only said the Credo, these malicious spirits would smell heresy in it. If the pressure of business did but permit his Holiness to take personal cognizance of the matter and discover the truth, I am certain the whole thing would fall to pieces and the truth would come to light. But the Pope has to depend on others, and this poor man cannot defend himself. If he gives his reasons, he is said to be speaking against the Holy Father! If he