NEWS FROM ITALY OF A SECOND MOSES OR, THE LIFE OF GALEACIUS CARACCIOLUS the noble Mar marquess of Vico.  
Containing the story of his admirable con conversion from popery, and his forsaking of a rich marquess doom for the Gospel's sake.  
Written first in Italian, thence translated into latin by reverend Beza, and for the benefit of our people put into English: and now published BY W. CRASHAW Bachelor in Divinity, and Preacher at the Temple.  
In memoria sempiterna erit jusius.  PSALM. 112. 
The just shalf be had in an everlasting remembrance.  
Printed by H. B. for Richard Moor, and are to be sold at his shop in Saint Dunstan's Churchyard in Fleetstreet. 1608.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE AND MY VERY GOOD LORD, EDmund Lord Sheffeild, Lord Lieutenant in the North, and Lord Precedent of his highness Counsel there, of the noble order of the Garter: and to the right honourable and religious Ladies, the Lady Douglas his mother, and Lady Ursula his wife, and to all the virtuous offspring of that noble race, Grace and Peace, etc.  
GIVE me leave (right Honourable) to put you all in one Epistle, whom God and nature have linked so well together: Nature in the nearest bond, and God in the holiest Religion. For a simple newyears gift, I present you with as strange a story, as (out of the holy stories) was ever heard. Will your Honours have the whole in brief, afore it be laid down at large? Thus it is.  
Galeacius Caracciolus son and heir apparent to Calantonius, marquess of Vicum in Naples, bred, borne, and brought up in Popery, a Courtier to the Emperor Charles the fifth, nephew to the Pope Paul the fourth, being married to the Duke of Nucernes daughter, and having by her six goodly children; at a Sermon of Peter Martyrs was first touched, after by reading Scripture and other good means, was fully converted: laboured with his Lady, but could not persuade her. Therefore that he might enjoy Christ, and serve him with a quiet conscience, he left the lands, livings, and honours of a marquisdom, the comforts of his Lady and children, the pleasures of Italy, his credit with the Emperor, his kindred with the Pope, and forsaking all for the love of jesus Christ, came to Geneva, and there lived a poor and mean, but yet an honourable and an holy life for forty years. And though his father, his Lady, his kinsmen; yea the Emperor and the Pope did all they could to reclaim him, yet continued he constant to the end, and lived and died the blessed servant of God, about fifteen years ago, leaving behind him a rare example to all ages.  
This (right honourable) is a brief of the whole, and it is a story admirable and imitable if any other in this later age of the world.  
Some use to crave of great personages, not to respect the gift but the giver: but in this case I chose entreat your honours, not to respect the giver but the gift: of the giver I say enough if I say nothing; but of the gift, I mean of noble Galeacius, I say too little, when I have said all I can. But this I must needs say: So religions, so noble, so virtuous was the man, so resolute, so holy, so heroical was the fact, so strange the beginning, so admirable and extraordinary the perseverance, as if the story were not debased by the rudeness of my translation; I durst say, none so great but might read it, nor so good but might follow it. I may say much rather 
Genes. 47.  than jacob, Few and evil have my da●●s been: Yet in these few days of mine something have I seen; more have I read, more have I heard; yet never saw I, heard I, or read I any example (all things laid together) more nearly seconding the example of Moses then this, of this most renowned marquess Galeacius. Moses was the adopted son of a King's daughter: Galeacius the natural son, and heir apparent to a marquess: Moses a Courtier in the Court of Pharaoh: Galeacius in the Court of the Emperor Charles the fifth: Moses by adoption a kin to a Queen: Galeacius by marriage a kin to a Duke: by blood, son to a marquess, nephew to a Pope: Moses in possibility of a Kingdom: he in possession of a marquisdom: Moses in his youth brought up in the heathenism of Egypt: Galeacius noo●eled in the superstition of Popery: Moses at last saw the truth and embraced it, so did Galeacius: Moses openly fell from the heathenism of Egypt▪ so did Galeac us from the superstition of Popery. But all this is nothing to that which they both suffered for their conscience. What Moses suffered Saint Paul tells us: Moses when he was come to years refused to 
Heb. 11.  be called the son of Pharaohs daughter: and chose rather to suffer adversity with the people of God, then to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season; steaming the rebuke of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt: Nay Moses had rather be a base bricke-maker amongst the oppressed Israelites, being true Christians; then to be the son of a King's daughter in the Court of Pharaoh amongst Idolaters. In like case noble Galeacius, when he was come to years and knowledge of Christ, refused to be called son and heir to a marquess, Cup▪ hearer to an Emperor, Nephew to a Pope; and chose rather to suffer affliction, persecution, banishment, loss of lands, livings, wife, children; honours, and preferments, then to enjoy the sinful pleasures of Italy for a season; esteeming the rebuke of Christ greater riches than the honours of a marquisdom without Christ: and therefore seeing he must either want Christ or want them, he despoiled himself of all these to gain Christ.  
If (right Honourable) the wife fools of this world might have the censuring of these two men and their actions, they would presently judge them a couple of impassionate and stoical fellows, or else melancholic and brame-sicke men, to refuse Marquesdomes and Kingdoms for scruple of conscience: but no matter as long as the men are Saints in heaven, and their actions honoured of God and his Angels; admired of good men, and neglected of none, but those who as they will not follow them on earth, so are they sure never to follow them to heaven. So excellent was the fact of Moses, and so heroical, that the holy Ghost vouchsafes it remembrance both in the old and new Testament, that so the Church in all ages might know it and admire it: and doth Chronicle it in the Epistle to the H brews, almost two thousand years after it was done. If God himself did so to Moses, shall not God's Church be careful to commend to posterity this second Moses? whose love to Christ jesus was so zealous, and so inflamed by the heavenly fire of God's spirit, that no earthly temptations could either quench or abate it; but to win Christ, and to enjoy him in the liberty of his word and Sacraments, he delicately contemned the honours and pleasures of the marquisdom of Vicum. Vicum one of the Paradises of Naples: Naples the Paradise of Italy: Italy of Europe: Europe o▪ the earth: yet all these Paradises were nothing to him, in comparison of attaining the celestial Paradise, there to live with jesus Christ.  
If any Papists (musing as they use, and measuring us by themselves) do suspect the story to be some feigned thing, devised to allure and entice the people's minds; and to set a flourish upon our Religion, as they by a thousand false and feigned stories and mirables use to do. I answer, first in the general; far be it from us and our Religion to use such means, either for ourselves, or against our adversaries: No, we are content the Church of Rome have the glory of that garland: Popery being a sandy and a shaken, a rotten and a tottering building needs such props to underset it: but truth dare show herself, and fears no colours. But for the particular, I answer: cunning liars (as many Monks were) framed their tales of men that lived long ago, and places a far off and unknown; that so their reports may not too easily be brought to trial. But in this case it is far otherwise; the circumstances are notorious; the persons and places famously known: Vicum, Naples, Italy, Geneva, are places well known: Calantonius his father, Charles' the fist, his Lord and Master, Pope Paul the fourth his uncle, were persons well known: examine either places or persons, and spare none; truth seeks no corners; disprove the story who can, we crave no sparing: neither is the time too far passed, but may soon be examined. He was borne within these hundred years, and died at Geneva within these twenty years: and his sons son at this day is marquess of Vicum. Let any Papist do what he can, he shall have more comfort in following the example, than credit in seeking to disprove the story.  
In the course of my poor reading (right Honourable) I have often found mention of this noble marquess, and of his strange conversion; but the story itself, I first found it in the exquisite Library of the good gentleman Master Gee; one that honours learning in others, and cherisheth it in himself; and having not once red it, but often perused it, I thought it great loss to our Church to want so rare a jewel; and therefore could not but take the benefit of some stolen hours to put the same into our tongue, for the benefit of my brethren in this Realm, who want knowledge in Italian and Latin tongues. And now being translated, I humbly offer and consecrate it to my holy mother the Church of Fngland; who may rejoice to see her Religion spreading itself privily in the heart of Italy; and to see the Pope's nephew become her son. And next of all unto you (right Honourable) to whom I am bound in so many bonds of duty, and to whom this story doth so fitly appertain. You (my honourable good Lord) may here see a noble gentleman of your own rank in descent, birth, education, advancements like yourself; to be like you also in the love and liking of the same holy Religion. And you good Madam, may here conceive & judge by yourself, how much more happy this noble marquess had been, if his Lady Madam Victoria had been like yourself. I mean, if she had followed and accompanied her Lord in that his most holy and happy conversion. And you all (right Honourable) in this noble marquess as in a crystal glass, may behold yourselves: of whom I hope you will give me leave to speak (that which to the great glory of God you spare not to speak of yourselves) that you were once darkness, but now are light in the Lord: Blessed be that God the father of light, whose glorious light hath shined into your hearts: Behold (right honourable) you are not alone; behold an Italian; behold a noble marquess hath broken the ice, and trodden the path before you: In him you may see that God's Religion is as well in Italy as in England: I mean that though the face of Italy be the seat of Autichrist, yet in the heart thereof there is a remnant of the Lord of hosts. You may see this noble marquess in this story now after his death, whom in his life time so many noble Princes desired to see. His body hath lain in the bowels of the earth these seventeen years, but his soul lives in heaven in the bosom of jesus Christ, and his Religion in your hearts, and his name shall live for ever in this story. Accept it therefore (right honourable) and if for my sake you will vouchsafe to read it once over, I dare say that afterwards for your own sake you will read it over and over again: which if you do, you shall find it will stir up your pure minds, & inflame your hearts with a yet more earnest zeal to the truth: and will be an effectual means to increase your faith, your fear of God, your humility, patience, constancy, and all other holy virtues of regeneration. And for my part, I freely & truly profess I have been often ravished with admiration of this noble example; to see an Italian, so excellent a Christian, one so near the Pope, so near to jesus Christ; and such blessed fruit to blossom in the Pope's own garden; and to see a noble man of Italy forsake that for Christ, for which, I fear, many amongst us would forsake Christ himself. And surely (I confess truth) the serious consideration of this so late, so true, so strange an example, hath been a spur to my slowness, & whetted my dull spirits, and made me to esteem more highly of Religion than I did before. I know it is an accusation of myself, & a disclosing of my own shame to confess thus much; but it is a glory to God, an honour to Religion, a credit to the truth, and a praise to this noble marquess, and therefore I will not hide it.  
And why should I shame to confess it? when that famous & renowned man of God, holy Caluine freely confesseth (as in the sequel of this story you shall hear) that this noble man's example did greatly confirm him in his Religion, and did revive and strengthen his faith, and cheer up all the holy graces of God in him. And surely (most worthy Lord, and honourable Ladies) this cannot but confirm and comfort you in your holy courses, and as it were put a new life unto the graces of God in you, when you see, what; not the common people, but even such as were like your selves have suffered for Religion; and when you see that not only the poor and base sort of men, but even the mighty and honourable (as yourselves are) do think themselves honoured by embracing Religion. Pardon my plainness and too much boldness with your honours, & vouchsafe to accept it as proceeding from one who much tendereth your salvations, and rejoiceth with many thousands more, to behold the mighty & gracious work of God in you. Go forward right noble Lord, in the name of the Lord of hosts, still to honour that honourable place you hold, still to defeat the vain expectation of God's enemies; and to satisfy the godly hopes and desires of holy men: still to discountenance Popery and all profaneness: still by your personal diligence in frequenting holy exercises, to bring on that backward city: by your godly discipline in your family, to reform or to condemn the dissoluteness and disorder of the most great families in this country: still to minister justice without delay; to cut up contentions, & save the lawyer's labour: still to relieve the fatherless and the widow, and help the poor against their oppressors: and which is all in all, still to supplant superstition, popery, ignorance, and wilful blindness; and to plant and disperse true Religion in that city, and these Northern countries. By all these means still showing yourself an holy and zealous Phinehes (under the great Phinehes our most worthy Sovereign) to execute God's judgement, and to take vengeance on the Zimri and Cozbi of our nation: namely, on Popery and profaneness; the two great sins which have pulled down God's plagues on our land, and the due and zealous punishment whereof, will be the means again to remove them.  
But I wrong your Honours to trouble you with these my too many and too ragged lines: and I wrong this noble Gentleman to clothe his golden story with this my rude and homespun English style: and I wrong you all to keep you so long from being acquainted with this noble marquess, so like yourselves; at whose meeting and acquaintance I am sure there will be so much rejoicing, and mutual congratulating at the mighty and gracious work of God in you all. The same God and merciful father I humbly beseech, and ever will, to accomplish his good work in you, as he did in that noble marquess: and as he hath already made you so many ways blessed; blessed in yourselves, blessed one in another, blessed in your conversions, blessed above many, in your many and religious children: so at last he may make you most of all blessed in your ends; that so after this life, you may attain the eternal glory of a better world, whither this noble marquess is gone before you.  
From my study, jan. 12. 1603. Your Honours in all Christian duty, W. CRASHAW.   

TO THE CHRISTIAN and courteous Reader.  
GOOD Reader, conceive I pray thee, that this translation being made divers years ago, and communicated to my private friends; I thought to have suppressed it from spreading further: but being pressed by importunity, and urged with unavoidable reasons, I have now yielded to let it pass in public: the rather considering, that though at this day almost every hour yields a new book, yet many ages afford scarce one example like to this. I have divided it into Chapters for thy better ease in reading and remembering: and seeing I find in other Authors often mention of this noble marquess, and his heroicallfact: I have therefore not tied myself precisely to the words of the Latin story, but keeping the sense and scope, have sometime enlarged myself as the circumstance seemed to require, or as I had warrant and direction from other stories. Read it with an holy and an humble heart, and prayer to God, and account me thy debtor, if thou think not thy labour well bestowed. And when thou findest a blessing, and reapest spiritual comfort hereby, then vouchsafe to remember me in thy prayers.  
Temple, Septem. 30. 1608. Thy brother in Christ, W. CRASHAW.   

CHAP. 1.  
Of the lineage, birth, and infancy of Galeacius Caracciolus the noble marquess of Vico.  
My purpose is to commit to writing the life of Galeacius Caracciolus: as being a rare example of a most strange and seldom seen constancy in the defence of Godliness and true Christian Religion.  
HE was borne at Naples, a renowned City in Italy, in the month of january, in the year of Christ 1517. 
a The very year when Luther began to preach the Gospel.  His father's name was Calantonius, who was descended of the ancient and noble house of the Caracciolies in the Country of Capua. This Calantonius even in his youth, was not only well respected, but highly esteemed, and a familiar friend of that noble Prince of Orarge, who after the taking and sacking of Rome, was placed in the room of the Duke of Borben: yea his faithfulness and industry was so well approved to the Prince (as often times afore, so especially) at the siege of Naples, what time it was assaulted by Lotrechius, as that afterward, when the Emperor Charles the fist of that name, (who then was at Rome to receive the Imperial crown and other ornaments of the Empire) did appoint the said Prince with certain forces, to go and besiege the City of Florence; he thought it needful to take the said Calantonius with him, for his wisdom and grave counsel. From whence when that service was ended, he being sent to Caesar himself, he did so wisely demean himself in all his affairs, and did so sufficiently satisfy the Emperor in all things, that he made good in every point, that worthy testimony which the Prince had given of him; whereupon he being at that time most honourably entertained of the Emperor himself, was by him not only advanced to the state and title of a marquess, but also equally joined in commission with the Viceroy of Naples (for his wisdom and experience in all kind of affairs) to be assistant unto him, and fellow with him in swaying the Sceptre of that Kingdom. In which office and function he so carried himself, as he won the good will of both small and great, as well of the Nobles, as of the Commonalty: yea insomuch as he was deeply invested in the favour of the Emperor Charles and king Philip his son. And so he continued in this dignity till the last day of his life, which was in the month of February, in the year 1562. he being himself more than three score and ten years of age.  
Such a father, and no worse had this Galeacius. As for his mother, she was descended of the noble family of the Caraffi: and her own brother was afterward 
* That is, Pope Paul the fourth.  Pope of Rome. Which I affirm notto that end, as though this in itself was any true praise or honour to Galeacius, but that his love to true Religion, and his constancy in defence thereof, (even against such mighty ones) may appear the more admirable to all that hear it, as it hereby did to all that knew him. Ofwhich his love to true Religion, we shall speak more anon.  
Galeacius being twenty years old, and the only son of his mother, who was now deceased; his father Calantonius being desirous to continue his name, to preserve his house and posterity, and to maintain his estate and patrimony, whose lands amounted to the sum of five thousand pounds a year and upward; did therefore provide him a wife, a Virgin of noble birth, called Victoria, daughter to the Duke of Nuceria, one of the principal Peers of Italy, with whom he had in name of portion or dowry six thousand five hundred pounds. He lived with his wife Victoria unto the year 1551. at which time he forsook house, family, and country for Religion's sake: and in that time he had by his wife six children, (four sons and two daughters.) His eldest son died at Panorma, in the year 1577. leaving behind him one son and one daughter: the son obtaining by inheritance the marquisdom of Vicum▪ (amongst divers other things) married a wife of noble birth afore his grandfather Galeacius died. By whom, as I hear, he hath two children, to whom this Galeacius is great Grandfather.  
Now all these particulars do I thus set down to this end, that the perseverance of so great a man may appear the better by all these circumstances, which is no less than a most glorious victory over so many temptations.   

CHAP. II.  
Of his preferment at Court, and the first occasion of his conversion.  
THe marquess Calantonius seeing so good hope of the continuance of his house and posterity, desiring not to preserve only, but to increase and augment the dignity of his house, purposed therefore that his son Galeacius should seek further honour and follow the Court. Wherefore making offer of him to the Emperor Charles, he was most kindly entertained into the emperors house and service, and soon after was made the emperors Gentleman-sewer. In which place and office within short time, he both won the favour of the Nobility, and the rest of the Court, and grew to be of special account even with the Emperor himself: for all men's opinion and judgement of him was, that there was not one of many to be compared with him, for innocency of life, elegancy of manners, sound judgement and knowledge of many things. Thus Galeacius was in all men's opinions, in the high way to all honour and estimation: for the Prince whom he served was most mighty, and the Monarch of the biggest part of the Christian world. But all this was little: for God, the king of kings, of his singular mercy and grace did purpose to call him to far greater dignity, and to more certain and durable riches. And this so great and rare a work did the Lord bring to pass, by strange and special means. So it was that in those days a certain Spaniard, a noble man, did sojourn at Naplcs, who had to name johannes Waldesius: this Gentleman being come to some knowledge of the truth of the Gospel, and especially of the doctrine of justification; used often to confer with, and to instruct divers other noble men his companions and familiars, in points of Religion, confuting the false opinions of our own inherent justification, and of the merits of good works, and so consequently detecting the vanity of many Popish points, and the fondness of their superstitions: by which means he so prevailed, or rather the Lord by him, that divers of these noble Gentlemen began to creep out of Popish darkness, and to perceive some light of the truth: Amongst these, was there one johannes Franciscus Caesarta, a noble Gentleman and kinsman to this our Galeacius.  
Of this Gentleman first of all did Galeacius hear divers things in conference, which seemed to him much contrary to the course of the vain world; yea much to cross even his age and estate, and course of life; as namely of the true means of our justification, of the excellency and power of God's word, of the vanity of the most of Popish superstitions, etc. For Galeacius esteemed and used this Gentleman as his familiar friend, both being near of his blood, and especially for that he was▪ a Gentleman of very good parts. Now although the speeches of this gentleman did not at the first so far prevail with him, as to make him forsake the vanities of this life; notwithstanding it was not altogether in vain: for that God which had ordained him to be a special instrument of his glory, would not suffer so good seed to perish, though it seemed for a time to be cast even amongst thorns: neither will it be beside the purpose to set down particularly the means, which it pleased God to use for the working of this strange conversion: amongst which this was one.   

CHAP. III.  
Of the means of his further Sanctification.  
AT that time Peter Martyr Vermilius a Florentine, was a public Preacher and Reader at Naples. This man was a Canon regular (as they call them) a man since then of great name, for his singular knowledge in Christian Religion, his godly manners and behaviours, and for his sweet and copious teaching; for he afterward casting away his monks cowl, and renouncing the superstitions of Popery, he shone so brightly in God's Church, that he dispersed and strangely drove away the darkness and mists of popery. Galeacius was once content at Caeserta his motion to be drawn to hear Peter Martyrs Sermon; yet not so much for any desire he had to learn, as moved and tickled with a curious humour, to hear so famous a man as then Martyr was accounted. At that time Peter Martyr was in hand with Paul's first Epistle to the Corinthians, and as he was showing the weakness and deceitfulness of the judgement of man's reason in spiritual things, as likewise the power and efficacy of the word of God, in those men in whom the Lord worketh by his spirit; amongst other things he used this simile or comparison: If a man walking in a large place, see a far off men and women dancing together, and hear no sound of instrument, he will judge them mad, or at least foolish; but if he come nearer them, and perceive their order and hear their music, and mark their measures and their courses, he will then be of another mind, and not only take delight in seeing them, but feel a desire in himself to bear them company and dance with them. Even the same (said Martyr) betides many men, who when they behold in others a sudden and great change of their looks, apparel, behaviour, and whole course of life, at the first sight they impute it to melancholy or some other foolish humour; but if they look more narrowly into the matter, and begin to hear and perceive the harmony and sweet consent of God's spirit, and his word in them, (by the joint power of which two, this change was made and wrought, which afore they counted folly,) than they change their opinion of them, and first of all begin to like them, and that change in them, and afterward feel in themselves a motion and desire to imitate them, and to be of the number of such men, who forsaking the world and his vanities, do think that they ought to reform their lives by the rule of the Gospel, that so they may come to true and sound holiness. This comparison by the grace of God's Spirit wrought so wonderfully with Galeacius, (as himself hath often told 
See how the first step of a man's conversion from popery, is true and sound mortification of carnal lusts, and a change of life. See also how the first means to bring a man out of error to the truth, is study of holy Scriptures.  his friends) that from that hour he resolved with himself, more carefully to restrain his affections from following the world, and his pleasures, as before they did, and to set his mind about seeking out the truth of Religion, and the way to true happiness. To this purpose he began to read the Scriptures every day, being persuaded, that truth of Religion and soundness of wisdom was to be drawn out of that fountain, and that the high way to heaven was thence to be sought. And further, all his acquaintance and familiarity did he turn into such company, as out of whose life and conferences, he was persuaded he might reap the fruit of godliness and pure Religion. And thus far in this short time had the Lord wrought with him by that Sermon: as first, to considerwith himself seriously whether he was right or no: secondly, to take up an exercise continual of reading Scripture: thirdly, to change his former company, and make choice of better. And this was done in the year one thousand five hundred forty and one, and in the four and twentieth year of his age.   

CHAP. FOUR  
Of the strange censures the world gave of his conversion, and how the better sort rejoiced at it.  
But when this sudden alteration of this noble and young Galeacius was seen and perceived in Naples, it can be scarce set down how greatly it amazed his old companions, which as yet cleaved to the world▪ and to the affections of the flesh: many of them able to render no cause of it, could not tell what to say of it; some judged it but a melancholic passion; others thought it plain folly, and feared he would become simple and doting and that his wit began by some means to be impaired Thus every one gave his verdict and censure of him, but all wondered, and doubted what it would turn to. But the better sort of men and such as feared God, and had their mind enlightened with some knowledge of Religion, as they wondered no less to see so great a change in so great a man, so likewise they were surprised with exceeding joy to see it: for they were persuaded that God had some great and extraordinary work in it; that a young gallant, a noble man of such wealth, and honour as he was, living in such delight and pleasures, in so general a corruption of life, both in court and country, but especially this age, nobility, wealth and honour being joined with the wanton deliciousness of the courtly life: I say, that such a man should be endued with the spirit of holiness, and so far affected with repentance, as that he should contemn all those in respect of heaven; they esteemed of it (as it was indeed) a rare matter and seldom seen in the world: and therefore they greatly rejoiced at it, and praised the Lord on his behalf. Amongst those men that thus rejoiced at his conversion, was one Marcus Antonius Flaminius a scholar of great name, and an excellent Poet, as his Paraphrase on the Psalms, and other very good Poems do sufficiently testify. Galeacius about this time received a letter from this Flaminius, wherein▪ he did congratulate and rejoice with him, for the grace and gift of God, which was besto wed on him in his conversion. This letter I thought good to insert into the body of this story, (as being worthy of no less) to the end that it might be a witness in times to come, of the good opinion which such men had conceived of him, who knew the foundation of true justification, though they were yet possessed with other errors, as about the Sacraments, and of the Mass, etc. which alas as yet they were not able to discern of, as after by the greater grace of God this Galeacius did. The copy of the letter is this.   

CHAP. V.  
Marcus Antonius Flaminius a great scholar in Italy, writeth to Galeacius, and congratulateth with him, for his holy and happy change.  
To the right honourable Galeacius Caracciolus.  
RIght noble Lord, when I consider seriously these words of Paul. * Brethren you see your calling, that not 
1. Cor. 1. 26, 27.  many noble, not many wise, according to the flesh, not many mighty are called: but God hath chosen the foolish things of this world to confound the wise, and weak things to confound the mighty, and base things in the world, and things not accounted of, and things that are not, to bring to nought things that are. When I say, I consider of these words so often, I admire at that rare blessing of God, which he hath vouchsafed to you a noble and mighty man: namely, that he should grace you with that true and incomparable nobility, which is attained by true faith in Christ jesus, and a holy life. As much greater as this blessing is, so much the more holy and sincere aught your life to be, and so much the more uprightly are you to walk with your God; lest that your thorns (that is, riches, pleasures, and honours,) should choke the seed of the Gospel which is sown in you. For this I am sure of, that God hath begun some great work in you, which he will finish to the glory of his own name, and will bring to pass; that as heretofore you had care so to live a noble man, amongst noble men, that you might observe the decorum and maintine the dignity of nobility: so hereafter that you may employ your whole self in this, that you may defend and uphold the honour & dignity of the children of God; whose duty it is to aim at the perfection of their father with all endeavours; and in their life upon the earth to resemble that holy & heavenly life, which they shall lead in the world to come. Call to mind continually (my good Lord) in all your words and deeds, that we are graced with this honour to be made the sons of God by jesus Christ: for that mediation will by the help of the holy Ghost, work this care in us, that we never commit any thing unworthy of that holy name of Christ, by which we are called. And yet alas, such is our estate, as that if we do endeavour to please Christ, we are sure to displease men, and must be content to contemn the vain glory of the world, that we may enjoy heavenly and eternal glory with God; for it is impossible (as Christ saith) for him to believe in God, which 
john.  seeks the honour and praise of men. I mean of the men of this world, which as the kingly Prophet saith, are lighter and 
Psal.  vainer than vanity itself. And therefore their judgement is little worth, and less to be esteemed; but rather the judgement of God, who seeth not all our actions only, but even our most hidden thoughts and purposes. Which being so, were it not folly and madness to displease such a God, to please so fond a world? It were a shameful thing if a wife should endeavour to please other men, rather than her husband. How much more than unworthy is it if our souls should rather aim to please the vain world, than their most holy spouse Christ jesus? If the only son of God was content, not only to be reviled, yea and scourged; but even to die upon the cross as a cursed malefactor, and all for us: why should not we much more bear patiently the taunts and mocks, yea even the slanders of God's enemies? Let us therefore arm ourselves as it were with a holy pride, and (in a sort) scorn and laugh at their mocks: and putting upon us mercy and pity as the feeling members of Christ, let us bewail so great blindness in them, and let us entreat the Lord for them, to pull them out of that palpable darkness into his true and marvelous light, lest Satan bind them to himself in his everlasting prenticeship; and so being his bondslaves, and hired sworn servants of his black guard, do send them out to persecute jesus Christ in his members. Which when they have done all they can, and all that the devil their master can teach them, though the devil himself should burst with malice, and they for anger grind their teeth; yet shall it all tend to the magnifying of God's glory, which they labour to obscure, and to the furtherance of their salvation whom they so disdained: yea to the increase of their glory in a better world, whom in this world they thought worthy of nothing, but of all disgrace. And surely (my most honourable Lord) he that is possessed with the certainty of this faith, will without doubt make open war with the corrupt affections of his own nature, and with all the world: yea even with the devil himself, and will not doubt but in time even to overcome them al. Therefore let us humble ourselves to our God and Father everlasting, that he would increase that saith in us, & bring forth in us those most blessed & sweet fruits of faith in our hearts & lives, which he useth to work in them whom he hath elected: that so our faith being fruitful of good works, may appear to be not a feigned but a true faith: not a dead but a living faith: not a human but a divine work in us: that so it may be to us an infallible pledge of our salvation to come. Let us labour to show ourselves the legitimate and undoubted children of God, in seeking above all things, that his most holy name may be sanctified in ourselves and others; and in imitating his admirable love and gentleness, which makes his sun to shine on good and bad. Let us worship his heavenly Majesty in spirit and truth: and let us yield up the temple of our heartsto Christ jesus as an acceptable sacrifice unto him: yea letus show ourselves members of the heavenly high Priest Christ jesus, in sacificing to God our own bodies, and in crucifying the flesh with the affections and the lusts thereof; that sin being dead in us, the spirit of God may create in us a spiritual life, whereby Christ jesus may live in us. Let us die to sin, and die to ourselves, and to the world, that we may live blessedly to God and Christ jesus: yea let us acknowledge and show by our lives, that we were once ●●ad; but now are raised to the life of grace, by the power of Christ jesus. Let our conversation be heavenly, though we live on the earth: let us begin that life here which we hope to lead in heaven: let the image of God shine bright in us: let us disgrace and wear out the old image of sin and satan, and labour to renew the image of Christ jesus, that all that see us may acknowledge God's image in us. Which holy image of grace, as it is beautiful and glorious in all God's Saints; so in you (my good Lord) it shall be so much more glorious, in as much as you go before others in birth, nobility, honour, and high place. O what a pleasant sight is it to all true Christian men; yea to the Angels; yea how acceptable to the Lord himself, to behold a man of your place and estate, so far to forget the world and deny himself: so deeply to consider the frailty of his own nature, and the vanity of all temporal things as to say with Christ, I am a worms and no man: and to cry out with David, turn thy face to me and have mercy upon me, for I am 
Psal.  desolate and poor? O happy and true rich man, which hath attained to this spiritual and heavenly poverty, and can give a farewell to himself, and the world, and all things that he hath for Christ's sake, and can freely renounce and forsake carnal reason, human learning, company and counsel of friends, wealth, honours, lord ships, pleasures of all sorts, delight of the court, high places and preferments, dignity and offices; yea favour of Princes; yea his ownself! How welcome shall he be to Christ, which can deny all those for Christ's sake? Such a one may go for a fool in the world; but he shallbe of the Almighty's counsel: such a man knoweth that felicity consists not in any thing that this world can afford, and therefore in the midst of all his wealth and abundance, he crieth out to God as though he had nothing, even out of the feeling of his heart; Give us this day our daily bread. Such a man preferreth the rebuke of Christ before the honour of the world, and the afflictions of Christ's religion, before the pleasures of the world: and because he despiseth all things in respect of Christ, and his righteousness, and is possessed and grounded with God's spirit; therefore he sings with true joy of 
Psalm.  heart, with the kingly Prophet; The Lord is my shepherd, therefore I can want nothing: neither will I fear hunger or any outward thing▪ he feeds me in green pastures, and leads me forth besides the water of comfort. This man distrusts himself and all the creatures in the world, that he may trust and cleave only to God: neither aims he at any pleasure, any wisdom, any honour, any riches, any credit or estimation; but such as comes from God himself: and therefore 
Psalm.  he professeth with the same Prophet, I have none in heaven but thee alone, and none in the earth do I desire but thee: my flesh consumeth with longing after thee, and thou Lord art my heritage and portion for ever. He that spoke thus was a wealthy and mighty King, yet suffered he not the eyes ofhis mind to be blinded or dazzled with the glittering glory of riches, pleasures, or honour, or aught else that a kingdom could give: for he knew well that they all came of God, and were held under God, and must all be used to his glory, and that he that gave them hath far better things to give his children. And therefore that King and Prophet makes 
1. Chron. 28.  his heavenly proclamation before all his people; Blessed art thou O Lord God our father for ever and ever: thine O Lord is greatness, and power, and glory, and victory: all that is in heaven and earth is thine, thine is the kingdom Lord, and thou excellest as head over all: riches and honour come of thee, and thou art Lord of all: in thy hand is power, and strength, honour, and dignitis, and kingdoms are in thy disposition: therefore we give thee thanks O God, and we extol thy great and glorious name. But who am I, and what is my people, that we should promise such things to thee? For we are strangers before thee, and sojourners as all our fathers were; our days are like a shadow upon the earth, and here is no abiding.  
See how David cannot content himself in abasing himself, and extolling the Lord: and in how many words his affections utter themselves. This was David's meditation, and let this be your looking-glass; and into the looking-glass of this meditation look once a day, and pray daily that God would still open your eyes to behold your own vileness; and his incomprehensible power and love to ye, that with King David you may humble yourself under the mighty hand of his Majesty, and acknowledge all power and glory to belong to God alone, that so you may be made partaker of those heavenly graces, which God bestoweth not on the proud and lofty, but on the humble and meek. Remember that ordinance of the eternal God, that saith: Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, nor the strong man in his strength, nor the rich man in his 
jeremy.  riches, but let him that glorieth, glory in this, in that he understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the Lord which do mercy and justice on earth: for these things please me, saith the Lord. (Therefore my good Lord) if you list to boast, boast not as the world doth, that you are rich, or that you are of noble birth, or that you are in favour with the Emperor and other Princes, or that you are heir apparent of a rich marquisdom, or that you have married so noble a waman: leave this kind of boasting to them, who have their minds glued to the world, and therefore have no better things to boast on: whose portion being here in this life, they can look for nothing in heaven. But rather rejoice you in that you are entered into the kingdom of grace; glory in this that the King of kings hath had mercy on you, and hath drawn you out of the misty darkness of errors, hath given you to feel his endless love and mercy in Christ, hath made you of the child of wrath▪ his own son; of a servant to fin and the devil, an heir of heaven; and of a bondslave to hell, a free denision of the heavenly jerusalem; and glory in this, that even Christ jesus himself is given you, and made your own, and with him all things else. So that as Paul saith, All are yours, whether the world, or life, or death, things present or things to come, all are yours in and by Christ, who is the only felicity of our souls; and therefore whosoever have him, have with him all thing else. This is the true glory and the sound boasting of Christianity: for hereby is God's mercy extolled, and man's pride trodden under foot, by which a man trusting too much to himself, rebelleth against God. This glorious boasting makes us humble even in our highest honours: modest and meek in prosperity: patient and quiet in adversity: in troubles strong and courageous: gentle towards all men: joyful in hope: fervent in prayer: full of the love of God, but empty of all love of ourselves or ought in the world: yea it makes us Christ's true beadsmen, and his sworn servants, and makes us yield up ourselves wholly to imitate and follow Christ, and to esteem all things else as frail and vain; yea 
Philip.  dung and dross that we may win him.  
Right honourable and my good Lord, you see that I am so willingly employed in this service of writing to your honour, and in conferring with you of heavenly matters, that I have forgot myself, or rather your honour, in being so tedious, which in the beginning I purposed not. I am privy to myself and of my owneignorance; and guilty of mine own insufficiency, as being fitter to be a scholar then a teacher; and to hear and learn myself, rather than to teach others: and therefore I crave pardon of your honour. Farewell. The most reverend Ambassador desireth in his heart he had occasion to testify indeed, that true good will which in his soul he bears you: In the mean time he salutes you, & so doth the illustrious Princess of Piscarta her highness; and all other the honourable personages which are with me▪ all which rejoice for this good work of God in you, and in all kindness do kiss your hands; and they do all earnestly entreat the Lord for you, that he that hath begun so great a work in you, would accomplish the same to the end: and the richer you are in temporal goods, in lands, and lord ships, that he would make you so much the more poor in spirit; that so your spiritual poverty, may do that which your worldly riches and honour cannot: namely, bring you at last to the eternal and never fading riches of the world to come: Amen. Farewell. From Viterbium.  
Your honours most humbly addicted, and most loving brother in Christ, M. Antonius Flaminius.   

CHAP. VI  
Of the many temptations the devil used to pull him back, as by his father, his wife, and by noble men of his acquaintance.  
BY this and other holy means Galeacius was confirmed in the doctrine of the truth, and went forward constantly in the course of God's calling, and the way of godliness. But the more courageously he went on, the more fiercely the devil raged against him by his temptations; endeavouring thereby to hinder him in that happy course: yea and if it were possible to drive him back again, which course lie commonly takes against those, who have propounded to themselves to tame the rebellion of the flesh, and to relinquish the vanities of the world. And first of all, this zealous course of his in Religion procured him an infinite number of mocks, and made him subject to most vile slanders; yea made him incur the hatred of a great number, but especially did he herein displease & vex his father, as one that was not only of a contrary religion, but one who only intended the honour of his house, and the advancing of his posterity, which in respect of Religion Galeacius cared not for at all: and therefore he did often sharply chide him, and charged him with his fatherly authority, to put away those melancholy conceits (as he termed them.) No doubt but this was most grievous to him, who always was most submiss and obedient to his father. But another grief did more inwardly afflict him, which was in respect of his wife Victoria. Who though she was always a most kind and dutiful wife, as also very wise, yet she would by no means yield to this motion and change of Religion; because she thought and feared it would breed infamy and reproach, to herself and her house; and therefore was continually working on him by all means and devices she could: labouring to move him by tears and complaints, and by all kinds of entreaty that a wife could use to her husband: and withal sometimes urging him with such vain and fond reasons as commonly women of that Religion are furnished withal. What a vexation this was, and what an impediment to his conversion, such may judge easily, who are cumbered with husbands or wives of a contrary Religion. And no little grief and temptation was it to him, besides all these, that the most part of the noble men in and about Naples (being either of his blood, or kindred, or his familiar friends) used continually to resort unto him, to follow their old and ordinary sports and pleasures. Alas how hard a thing was it to shake off all these on a sudden, and to take upon him a direct contrary course of life to that he had led with them afore; which he must needs do if he would go on as he had begun? And further, it was no little vexation to his soul to live in the Court, when his office and place called him thereunto: for there he might hear of any thing rather than of Religion: and not a word by any means of God's word, but talk enough of common and worldly preferments and pleasures, and devising of means for the most cruel handling and dispatching out of the way all such as should depart from the Romish faith. Any Christian heart may easily conceive how deeply those temptations and hindrances vexed his righteous soul in this his course towards God: insomuch as a thousand to one, they had turned him back again; and doubtless they had done so indeed, had not God assisted him with special grace.   

CHAP. VII.  
How he escaped the snares of the Arrian Anabaptists, and▪ after of the Waldesians: and of his resolution to leave his country, hono urs, and livings, to enjoy the liberty of God's Religion.  
But above all these, Satan had one assault strongest of all, whereby he attempted to seduce him from the true and sincere Religion of God. About that time the Realm of Naples was sore pestered with Arrians and Anabaptists: who daily broached their heresies amongst the common people, colouring them over with glorious shows. These fellows perceiving Galeacius not fully settled as yet in Religion, nor yet sufficiently grounded in the scripture, tried all means they could to entangle him in their errors and blasphemous fancies: wherein the mighty work of God was admirable towards him: for he being a youth, a gentleman, but a mean scholar▪ and little studied, and but lately entered into the school of Christian Religion; who would have thought that ever he could have resisted and escaped the snares of those heretics; many of them being great and grounded scholars, and thoroughly studied in the Scripture? Notwithstanding, by the sincere simplicity and plainness of God's truth, and the inspiration of the holy Ghost, he not only descried the fondness of their heresies, but even untied the knots, and broke their nets, and delivered himself, and mightily confuted them: yea such was the working of God, as being sometime in their meetings, he was strongly confirmed in the doctrine of the truth by seeing and hearing them. Thus by God's mercy he escaped and was conqueror in this sight.  
But the devil had not so done with him, for another and more dangerous battle presently followed. The Waldesians, of whom we spoke before, were at that time in Naples in good number. With them did Galeacius daily converse, their courses of life and study being not far unlike. These disciples of Waldesius knew as yet no more in Religion but the point of justification: and misliked and eschewed some abuses in Popery; and nevertheless still frequented Popish Churches; heard Masses, and were present ordinarily at vile Idolatries. Galeacius for a time conversed with these men, and followed their way: which course doubtless would have spoiled him, as it did a great sort of them; who afterwards being taken and committed for the truth, were easily brought to recant their Religion, because they wanted the chief and the most excellent points, nor were sufficiently settled: and yet afterwards again, not daring to forsake their hold in justification; and therefore coming to it again, were taken as relapsers and backsliders, and put to extreme torments and cruel death. In the like danger had Galeacius been, but that the good providence of God otherwise disposed, and better provided for him: for his office and place that he bore in the emperors Court, called him into Germany, and so withdrew him from his companions the Waldesians: for the Lord had a greater work to work in him then the Waldesians were able to teach him: for there in Germany he learned (that he never knew afore) that the knowledge of the truth of justification was not sufficient for salvation; whilst in the mean time a man wittingly defiled himself with Idolatry, which the Scripture calls spiritual whoredom: and of no man did he reap more sound and comfortable instruction then of Peter Martyr, of whom we spoke afore, whom God had lately called out of Italy, and confirmed him in the truth. This Martyr instructed Galeacius sound, in the way of the truth, and made it plain unto him, by private conferences as well as public reading: for he was at that time public professor of divinity at Stransbrough in Germany. Galeacius furnished with those holy instructions, returned to Naples, and presently resorting to his companions, the Waldesians, amongst other points, conferred with them about the eschewing of Idolatry, and delivered his judgement therein. But they not enduring scarce to hear it, presently forsook him, for they would by no means entertain that doctrine, which they knew was sure to bring upon them afflictions, persecutions, loss of goods and honours, or else would cause them to forsake country, house, and land, wife, and child, and so every way threatened a miserable estate to the professors thereof. Now this their forsaking of him, and telling him of the danger of this profession, was another strong temptation to keep him wrapped in their Idolatry, and to make him content himself with their imperfect and pieced Religion. But GOD which had in his eternal election predestinate him, that he should be a singular example of constancy to the edification of many, and the confusion and condemnation of lukewarm professors; gave him that excellent resolution, and that heavenly courage, as he escaped at last conqueror over all those temptations and assaults of Satan; and nothing could suffice or content him but the pure Religion, and also the profession of it: and therefore seeing no hope of reformation in Naples, nor any hope to have the Waldesians join with him, and seeing plainly that he could not serve God in that country; he resolved undoubtedly that he would forsake the country, and seek for Christ and his Religion wheresoever he might find them; and that he would rather forsake father, wife, children, goods and lands, offices and preferments to win Christ, then to enjoy them all and want Christ jesus.   

CHAP. VIII.  
Of the grievous combats betwixt the flesh and the spirit, when he resolved of his departure.  
NOw here by the way it may not be omitted, what kind of cogitations he hath often said came into his mind, as he was deliberating about this great matter. For first of all, as often as he looked on his father, which he did almost every hour, who dearly loved him, and whom again he respected in all duty and reverence: so often doubtless he was stricken at the heart with unspeakable grief to think of his departure; his mind no doubt often thinking thus: What, and must I needs forsake my dear and loving fathr, and cannot I else have God my Father? O miserable and unhappy father of my body, which must stand in comparison with the Father of my soul! And must I needs fail in duty to him, if I perform my duty to God? O miserable old man! for what deeper wound can pierce him, than thus to be deprived of the only staff and comfort of his old age! Alas shall I thus leave him in such a sea of troubles; and shall I be the only means to strike into his heart the deepest wound of grief that yet ever pierced him in all his life? This my departure is sure to make myself the obloquy of the world: yea to breed reproach and shame to the marquess my father, and to my whole stock and kindred. How is it possible that the good old man can overcome or endure so great a grief, but rather he must needs be swallowed up of it, & so with woe and misery end his life? Shall I then be the cause of death to my father, who would if need had been redeemed my life with his own death? alas what a misery is this like to be either to me, or him, or us both? yet must I care less for bringing his grey head with sorrow unto the grave, then for casting my own poor soul with horror into hell. And no less inwardly was he grieved in respect ofhis noble wife Victoria: for having no hope that she would renounce Popery, and go with him, therefore he durst not make known unto her the purpose of his departure; but rather resolved for Christ's sake to leave her and all, and to follow Christ. She was now as he was himself in the prime of youth, a Lady of great birth, fair, wise and modest; but her love and loyalty to her husband surpassed all. How was it possible patiently to leave such a wise, so that his perplexed mind discoursed on this fashion when he looked on her: And shall I so, yea so suddenly, and so unkindly leave and forsake my wife, my most dear and loving wife, the only joy of my heart in this world, my companion and partner in all my grief and labour; the augmenter of my joy, the lessener of my woe? And shall I leave her, not for a time, (as heretofore Idid when the Emperor's service called me from her) but for ever, never again to enjoy her: yea it may be never to see her? And shall I deprive myself of her, & thereby deprive myself ofal others also, & of all the comfort of the coniug all life & married estate? And shall I so leave her desolate & alone in that estate & age whereof she is? Alas poor Lady, what shall she do, what shall become of her, and of her little ones when I am gone? How many doleful days without comfort, many waking nights without sleep, shall she pass over? What will she do but weep & wail, & pine away with grief? And as he cast these things in his mind, he thought he even saw his wife, how she took on with herself, sighing & sobbing and weeping; yea howling & crying, & running after him with these pitiful outcries: Ah my dear Lord, and sweet husband; whither will you go? and will you jeave me miserable woman, comfortless and succourless? What shall become of me when you are gone: what can honours, pomps, riches, gold, silver, jewels, friends, company, all delights and pleasures in the earth; what can they all do to my comfort when I want you? And what joy can I have in my children without you, but rather my grief to be doubled to look on them? And how can I or the world be persuaded that you care for them, and for myself? Is this the love that thou hast so often boasted of? Ah, miserable love which hath this issue! either never didst thou love me, else never had true love so strange an end as this of yours hath, And yet which is worse than all this, you never showed me cause of this your strange departue; had I known cause, it would never have grieved me half so much: But now that the cause is not known, what will the world judge, but that the fault is in me? at least, if they cannot condemn me for it; yet how reproachful will it be to me, when even every base companion dare lay it in my dish, and point at me with their fingers when I go by, and say, this is that fond woman who married him with whom she could not live, and whom her husband disdained to live withal? This is that simple fool, who is desolate having a husband; and a widow, her husband yet being alive. Either shall I be counted wicked, which have caused thee to leave me; or foolish, miserable, and unhappy, who chose so fond, as to take him, whom I could not be sure of when I had him. In a word, I shall be deprived of thee: yea of all possibility of having any other, and so having a husband, I shall live in all misery altogether without a husband. These two cogitations of his father and his wife greatly tormented him, and the more because he laboured to keep close this fire, which burned and boiled in hisheart: namely, to conceal his departure, lest by being known it might have been hindered, which he would not for a world.  
Yet there was a third and special care that pinched him, and that was for his children, which were six in all; goodly and towardly children, and worthy of so noble parents: the more grief was it, in that they were so young, as that they could not yet conceive what it was to wanta father; the eldest was scarce fifteen, and the youngest scarce four years old: he loved them with most tender and fatherly affection, and was again loved and honoured of them. It is wonderful to think, how when his wife the Lady did give into his arms his youngest child to play withal (as oftentimes wives use to do) how it were possible for him, and what a do he had with himself to contain from floods of tears; especially because his eyes seeing them, and his hands holding them, and his heart taking delight and pleasure in them, his mind could not but discourse on this manner: And shall I within these few days utterly forsake these sweet babes, and leave them to the wide and wicked world, as though they had never been my children nor I their father? Yea happy had I been if I had either never had them, or having them might enjoy them. To be a father is a comfort, but a father of no children, and yet to have children, that is a misery. And you poor Orphans, what shall become of you when I am gone? your hap is hard even to be fatherless, your father yet living: and what can your great birth now help you? for by my departure you shall lose all your honour, all your living and wealth, and all dignity whatsoever; which otherwise you had been sure of: nay my departure shall not only deprive you of all this, but lay you open to all infamy, reproach, and slander, and bring upon you all kind of misery: and thus miserable man that I am, shall the time be cursed that ever they had me to their father. And what can your woeful mother do when she looketh on you, but weep and wring her hands, her grief still increasing as she looks upon you? Yet thus must I leave you all confounded together in heaps of grief, weeping and wailing one with another, and I in the mean time weeping and wailing for you all. Many other griefs, temptations, and hindrances assaulted him, though they were not so weighty as these formerly named, yet which might have been able to have hindered any man's departure, being in his case; as to leave the company of so many gallant noblemen and gentlemen, his kindred and acquaintance; to lose so honourable an office and place as he bore in the emperors Court; to leave for ever his native soil the delicate Italy; to deprive himself and his posterity of the noble tittle and rich living of a marquisdom; to undertake a most long and tedious journey; to cast himself into exile, poverty, shame, and many other miseries without hope of recovery for ever: to change his former pleasant life into all hardness, and to give a farewell to all the delicacies of Italy, wherein he was brought up; to leave that goodly garden of his father the Marquesses, which once should be his own; the goodliest garden almost in all Italy or all Christendom; which was furnished with plants of all sorts; and these not only of all such as grow in Italy, but even such as were to be got out of all other countries: this garden and Orchard was so exquisite both this way, and in divers other sorts of elegancies, that a great number of men of all qualities resorted daily out of all countries to see it. But this and all other the pleasures and delicacies of this present life could do nothing with him to remove him from his purpose; but he renounced them all, and resolved to leave them all to follow Christ: so strong and admirable was the constancy of this noble Gentleman.   

CHAP. IX.  
How after all the temptations which flesh and blood laid in his way to hinder his departure, he consulted with the Lord, and from him received grace to overcome them all.  
But it may be asked, whereupon was grounded so great unmovableness of this purpose, or whence came it? If we ask the world and common judgement, they will answer, that doubtless melancholic humours prevailing in him, spoiled the man of his judgement and natural affections, and impaired common sense and reason; and thence proceeded this obstinate and desperate purpose, as the world judgeth of it. But if a man lift up his eyes higher and behold the matter more seriously, he might have manifestly seen that it came to pass by the merciful blessing and strong hand of God, who from all eternity had predestinate him, that he should stand so unmovable against all temptations, and continue in one tenor steady and steadfast, until he had made void all the attempts of Satan, and removed all the stumbling blocks which his flesh and blood and carnal reason could cast in the way; for the which purpose the spirit of God enabled him to reason with himself on this sort: Thou Lord art he who drew and deliveredst me out of the thick and misty darkness of ignorance, and hast enlightened my mind with the light of thy holy spirit, and with the heavenly knowledge of thy truth: thou hast made known to me the way of salvation, and hast ransomed me to thyself by the blood of thy Son. Now therefore good Lord and holy father, I am wholly thine, and consecrated to thy glory; and as I am thine, I will follow thee, and obey thee, and walk in the way of thy will whithersoever thou shalt call me. Not my father, nor my wife, nor my children, nor my honours, nor my lands, nor my riches, nor all my delicacies and pleasures shall hold or hinder me one hour from following thee. I deny myself O Lord, and I deny this whole world for thee and thy sake: O Lord thou knowest me, and the readiness of my mind to wait upon thee; and how that my heart is inflamed with the fire of thy love: yet thou seest again how many enemies compass me, how many hindrances lie in me way, and how many temptations and impediments lie upon me, so that I am scarce able to move or lift up my head unto thee: O Lord I am now in the depths of those troubles, out of which the holy Prophet David once cried to thee as I do now; O Lord have mercy on me and deliver my soul. And although Satan and my own flesh do affright me in this my purpose, whilst they set before my eyes, the cross, and the infamy, and the poverty, and so many miseries, which I am like in this my new profession to undergo: notwithstanding O Lord, I lift up myself in the contemplation and beholding of thy infinite Majesty; and therein I see and confess that that cross and affliction is blessed and glorious, which makes me like and conformable to Christ my head; and that infamy to be honourable which sets me in the way to true honour; and that poverty to be desired, which depriving a man of some temporal goods, will reward him with an heavenly inheritance, than which, there is nothing more precious: I mean O Lord with thy own self, and thy glory O everlasting God, and that by thy only son jesus Christ; that so I enjoying thy glorious presence, may live for ever with thee in that heanenly society: O blessed and happy these miseries which pull me out of the world's vanities, and sink of sin; that I may be made heir of an everlasting glory. Welcome therefore the cross of Christ, I will take it up O Lord, and will follow thee: With these & such like holy meditations & other holy means, he overcame at last all the attempts of Satan, all his own natural and carnal affections: yea and the world itself, and verified that in himself which Paul affirmeth of God's true elect, that they that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections and the lusts: that is, have crucified their souls for Christ, who crucified himself for them. O Satan, God's enemy and his children's, how vain were all thy attempts, and how light all thy assaults? In vain dost thou set upon those for whom Christ vouchsafed to die, and suffer on the cross: upon which cross he so broke thy head and thy power, and so trampled over thee, that now thou shalt not be able to touch the least hair of the head of any of those for whom he died. And as for Galeacius, he had builded his house on the rock, and founded it so sure, that no wind, no rain, nay no floods of griefs, nor tempests of troubles, nor whirlwind of temptations could once remove him: and so he continued resolute as a Christian soldier & conqueror; fully minded to leave his country at the next opportunity he could take: his mind I cannot tell whether more ravished with joy one way, or more perplexed with grief another way; but betwixt joy and grief he still continued his purpose, until at last his spiritual joy overcoming his natural and carnal grief, he fully concluded that in despite of the devil and all impediments in the world, he would surely go.   

CHAP. X.  
How he performed his heroical resolution, leaving all for Christ, and going to Geneva.  
WHereupon making known his mind but to a few, & those his most familiar friends, and of whom he hoped well for religion; he wrought upon them so far, as that they promised and vowed that they would accompany him in this voluntary & Christian banishment, that so they might enjoy the true liberty and peace of conscience in the true Church of God. But how deep and unsearchable the judgements of God are, the event afterward showed: for divers of them (though not all) who for a time seemed to be endued and led with a most earnest zeal of God's glory in this action; when they came to the borders of Italy, & considered what they forsook, and to what they now took themselves: first began to look back again to Italy; afterwards went back again indeed, and so turned again to the vomit of their pleasures. But this ingratitude to the Lord for so great a favour offered them, the Lord pursued with a just revenge: for purposing to serve God in their pleasures, and in the midst of Popery, they were after taken by the Spanish Inquisition; and so publicly recanting and abjuring Christian Religion, they were afterward subject to all misery & infamy; neither trusted nor loved of the one side nor the other. This fearful desertion & backsliding of theirs, doubtless was most grievous to Galeacius; & verily the devil hoped hereby yet once again to have diverted him from his intended course, in making him be forsaken of those by whose company and society he hoped to have been greatly comforted in this uncomfortable voyage. But notwithstanding all this, Galeacius continued resolute in his purpose, and at last finding opportunity, attempted his departure, and made fit for it; yet made no show of any such matter; but rather coloured and concealed his intent, lest the authority of his father might any ways hinder his so godly a purpose: and so gathering together some thousand marks of his mother's goods which she had left him: on the one and twentieth of March, 1551. in the year ofhi age the four and thirtieth, he departed from Naples in manner as he was wont to do afore, making it known that he purposed to go into Germany to the Emperor; who at that time held his court at Auspurge: and thither indeed he went accordingly, and stayed serving in his place and office till the six and twentieth of May in the same year: Upon which day▪ leaving the court and the emperors service, & his honourable office which there he bear; & taking his last and everlasting farewell at the court, and all worldly delights, (and yet departing in ordinary sort as afore, and in purpose to go into the Low countries, as some thought) he took his journey strait towad Geneva, and thither came by God's good hand the eight of june, and there rested his weary body, and reposed his much more wearied conscience, with a full joyful heart: yea with the greatestioy that ever came to him in all his life, but only at the time of his conversion.   

CHAP. XI.  
Of his arrival at Geneva, and his entertainment there: and especially his acquaintance and friendship with Caluine.  
In the city of Ceneva (though there was a Church of Italians who likewise were come thither for the Gospel) yet he found not one whom he knew, save one Lactantius Rangonius, a noble man of Sienna in Italy: this Gentleman had been one of his familiar acquaintance when they were at home, and now was preacher of God's word to the Church and Congregations of the Italians, who were then at Geneva, Now when he saw that the mercy of God had granted him to arrive at this quiet and happy haven, where he might with liberty of conscience serve God, free from the corruptions of the world, and the abominable superstitions & Idolatry of Antichrist; presently he joined himself in friendship, and yielded himself to the instruction of Master john Caluine, the chief Minister and Preacher of that Church. Caluine being a man of deep insight and exquisite judgement, perceiving him to be a man of good knowledge and experience, of a moderate and quiet spirit, of an innocent and upright life, and endued with true and sincere godlinesle; did therefore most kindly and lovingly entertain him into his fellowship: for the good man of God in his wisdom foresaw that such a man as this, would doubtless become a special instrument of God's glory, and a means of the confirmation of many (but especially of Italians) in the knowledge and love of Religion: this holy love and Christian friendship thus begun, was so strongly grounded betwixt this noble marquess and renowned Caluine, that it continued till the year 1564. which was the last year of Calvin's pilgrimage in the earth, and the entrance into his heavenly rest. The Church and people of Geneva can testify of their true and constant friendship; but it needs not: for there is extant at this day a special testimony thereof, even from Caluine himself in a Preface of his; wherein he dedicates to Galeacius, his Commentary upon the first Epistle to the Corinth's; which I thought good here to set down word by word, that thereby it may appear how greatly Caluine esteemed ofhim.   

CHAP. XII.  
Calvin's Epistle to Galeacius, congratulating his holy and happy conversion.  
To the noble Gentleman, and as well honourable for his excellent virtues, as for his high descent and lineage, Galeacius Caracciolus, the only son and heir apparent to the marquess of Vicum: john Caluine sendeth greeting in our Lord.  
I Wish that when I first put out this Commentary, I had either not known at all, or at least more thoroughly known that man, whose name I am now constrained to blot out of this my Epistle: Yet I fear not at all, lest he should either upbraid me with inconstancy▪ or complain of injury offered him, in taking thatfrom him which afore I bestowed on him; because it was his own seeking, both to estrange himself from me, and from all society with our Church: wherefore he may thank himself and take the blame on his own neck: for, for my own part I am unwillingly drawn thus far to change my accustomed manner, as to race out any man's name out of my writing. And I bewail that the man hath thrown himself down from that seat of fame wherein I had placed him: namely, in the forefront of my book, where my desire was he should have stood, thereby to have been made famous to the world. But the fault is not in me, for as then I held him worthy, so since then he hath made himself unworthy; and therefore let him be as he is, and he for me buried in oblivion: and so for the good will I once bare to him, I spare to speak any more of him. And as for you (right honourable Sir,) I might seek excuse why I put you now in his room, but that I am so sufficiently persuaded of your great good will and true love to me; the truth whereof can be testified by so many witnesses in our Church. And that I may make one wish more, I wish from my heart that I had known you as well ten years ago, for than I should have had no cause to have altered the dedication of my book, as now I do. And as for the public estate of the Church, it is well that it shall not only lose nothing by forgetting that man, whose name I now blot out, but by your coming into his stead, shall receive a far greater gain, and a sufficient recompense. For though I know you desire not the pub lick applause of the world, but rest contented in the testimony of God's spirit in your conscience: (neither is it my purpose to publish your praises to the world) notwithstanding, I think it my duty to make known to the readers some things concerning you, and whereof myself and this Church and City are daily eye witnesses: and yet not so much for your praise, as for the benefit & instruction of the readers. And this is it that I would all men should know & make use of; that a Gentleman, a Lord, so well and highly borne, flourishing in wealth & honour, blessed with a noble & virtuous & loving wife, and many goodly children, living in all peace & quietness at home & abroad, wanting nothing that nature could desire, & every way blessed of God for all things of this life, should willingly & of his own accord leave all those, & forsake his country, a rich & fruitful & pleasant soil; so goodly a patrimony & inheritance, so stately a house, seated so commodiously & so pleasantly, to cast off all domestical delight and joy which he might have had in so good a father, wife, children, kindred, affinity, and acquaintauce, and all that for this only, that he might come & serve Christ jesus in the hard & unpleasant warfare of Christianity; and should deprive himself of so many alluring delights of nature, & to content himself with that slender measure of all things which the distressed estateof our Church is able to afford, & from all the superfluities of a Courly & Lordly life, here amongst us to betake himself to an easy rate and frugal kind of life, even as though he were no better than one of us: and yet I so recite all this to others, as I let it not pass without use to myself. For if I do set out your virtues in this my Epistle, as on the top of a Tower for all men to see them; that so they may conform themselves to the imitation of them; it should be shame for myself not to be much more nearly and inwardly touched with a love of them, who am continually an eye witness of them, and daily behold them, not in an Epistle, but in the clear glass of your own life: and therefore because that I find in experience how much your example prevails in me, for the strengthening of my faith, and the increase of godliness in me (yea and all other holy men who dwell in the city, do acknowledge as well as I, that this your example hath been greatly to their edification in all grace) I thought it therefore a necessary duty to impart this rare example of yours to the world; that so the profit and benefit of us might enlarge itself, and spread out of this city into all the Churches of God; for otherwise it were a needless labour to make known to the furthest parts of Christendom, the virtues of such a man, whose nature and disposition is so out of love with pride, and so far removed from all ostentation. Now if it shall please God that many others (who dwelling far off, have not hitherto heard of you;) shall by the strangeness of this your example address themselves to the imitation of it, and leave their pleasant nests, whereto the world hath settled them so fast; I shall think myself bountifully rewarded for these my pains: for out of question it should be common and usual amongst Christians, not only to leave livings and lord ships, and castles and towns, and offices and promotions, when the case so stands that a man may not enjoy both Christ and them: but even willingly and cheerfully to despise and shake off whatsoever under the Sun (though it be never so dear and precious, so pleasant and comfortable) in respect and comparison of Christ. But such is the slowness and sluggishness of the most of us, that we do but coldly and formally profess the Gospel: but not one of a hundred, if he have but some little land, or piece of a Lordship, that will forsake and despise it for the Gospel, sake: yea not one of many, but very hardly is drawn to renounce even the least gain or pleasure, to follow Christ without it: so far are they from denying themselves and laying down their lives for the defence of it. I wish these men would look at you, and observe what it is you have forsaken for love of Christ; and especially I wish that all men who have taken upon them already the profession of Religion, would labour to resemble you in the denial of themselves, (which indeed is the chief of all heavenly virtues:) for you can very sufficiently testify with me, as I can with you, how little joy we take in these men's companies; whose lives make it manifest, that though they have left their countries, yet they have brought hither with them the same affections and dispositions which they had at home: which if they had also renounced, as well as they did their countries; then had they been indeed true deniers of themselves, and been partaker with you of that true praise; wherein alas, you have but few compartners. But because I had rather the Reader should gather the truth and strangeness of this your example, than I should go about in words to express it; I will therefore spare further speech, and turn myself to God in prayer, desiring of his mercy, that as he hath endued you hitherto with an heroical courage, and spiritual boldness; so he would furnish you with an invincible constancy to endure to the end: for I am not ignorant how strangely the Lord hath exercised you heretofore, and what dangerous pikes you have passed ere you came to this: by which former experience your spiritual wisdom is able to conclude, that a hard and toilsome warfare doth still remain and wait for you; and what need there is to have the hand of God from heaven reached out to assist us, you have so sufficiently lee rned in your former conflicts, as I am sure you will join with me in prayer, for the gift of perseverance to us both: and for my part I will not cease to beseech jesus Christ our King and God (to whom all power was given of his father, and in whom are kept all the treasures of spiritual blessings) that he would still preserve you safe in soul and body, and arm you against all temptations to come, and that still he would proceed to triumph in you over the devil and all his vile and wicked faction, to the magnifying of his own glory, and the enlarging of his kingdom in yourself, and others of his children.  
9 Call. Feb. 1556. at Geneva. Your honours most assured in the Lord, JOHN CALVINE.   

CHAP. XIII.  
News of his departure to Geneva came to Naples, and the emperors Court: and how the old marquess his father and other his friends were affected with the news.  
AND thus (to return again to our story) Galencius settled himself down at Geneva as at a joyful resting place. But when the news of so sudden and strange a departure, and so wilful an exile came to Naples, and were made known in the emperors Court: it would scarce be believed or thought, how strangely it affected & moved all that heard it. All men wondered at it, and the most could not be persuaded it was so; but when it was certainly known and out of doubt, it was strange to see, how every man gave his verdict of the matter: some one way, some an other, as the course of men in such cases is. But above all, it so abashed and astonished his own friends and family, that nothing was heard or seen amongst them, but cries and lamentations, most bitter tears and pitiful complaints. And surely to have beholden the state of that family, how miserably it seemed at that time to be distressed: a man would have thought it even a lively pattern and picture of all woe and misery. But none was more inwardly pinched then the marquess his father, whose age and experience being great, seemed to assure him of nothing to follow hereupon but infamy and reproach, yea the utter undoing and subversion of his whole estate and family; notwithstanding, passing over that fit of sorrow as soon and as easily as he could, the wretched and careful old man began to bethink himself by what means he might prevent so miserable a ruin and fall, which seemed to hang over him and his. One thing amongst other came into his mind, which also had once caused many grievous temptations to Galeacius, and had much troubled his mind afore his departure. It was this.   

CHAP. XIIII.  
The first means used by his father the old marquess to recall him home again: he sent a kinsman of his, whom he knew his son dearly loved, to persuade him to return, but he could not prevail.  
GAleacius had a cosen-german, whom always he esteemed and loved as his brother: this Gentleman so tenderly loved of Galeacius did the marquess send to Geneva to his son▪ with commission and letters full of authority, full of protestations, full of pitiful complaints, full of cry and entreatings that he would come home again; and thereby cheer up his old father, and make happy again his unhappy wife; be a comfort to his distressed children, a rejoicing to his kinsfolks, and to the whole city of Naples, and save his whole house and posterity from that extreme ruin, which otherwise it would be sure to fall into. Thus this Gentleman was dispatched away and hasted to Geneva, with great hope for their ancient and faithful love to have prevailed with Galeacius. Where by the way we are to remember that Galeacius did always so love him, that the gentleman was not so sorrowful for his departure: but Galeacius was much more sorrowful that he could not win him to have gone with him, in this holy pilgrimage for religions sake; but he so much feared to have been hindered himself, that he durst not deal with this gentleman his dearest cofin, no nor with his wife, to persuade them to have gone with him. The gentleman coming to Geneva inquired after Galeacius. At that time Galeacius dwelled in an ordinary & mean house which he had taken to his own use, having no more attendance, but only two servants: the gentleman at last found him out, and presented himself into his sight: It had been a pitiful spectacle to have seen the meeting of those two gentlemen: their first meeting and embracings were nothing at all, but sighs and sobs, and tears, and unutterable signs of grief: such unspeakable sorrow did their natural affections breed in them, that for divers hours they could not speak a word one to other: but at last the gentleman, burning in desire to enjoy again his dearest Galeacius, braced forth into speeches, & mixing tears and sobs with every word, delivered his letters, till he could come to more liberty of speech: and at last having obtained of his affections leave to speak, he added to his letters, exhortations, strong persuasions, earnest entreaties, and withal plenty of tears, that he would have respect to the overthrow of his house, the grief of his old father, the desperate estate of his wife and children, the continual complaints made by all his friends and kinsfolks: all which notwithstanding were not so past cure, but that yet they might be remedied by his return again. This was the substance of his message. Galeacius taking not long time to advise himself, in this which the world would think so weighty a case, addressed him immediately this answer in brief: that he perceived very well▪ all to be true that he said; but as for his departure it was not done rashly, nor upon any fond conceit, but upon mature deliberation; that the Lord was the author of the action, that God's grace was the cause moving him, and the means whereby he brought it to pass: which grace of God, he said, had opened his eyes, and enlightened his mind with the knowledge of the truth; and made him see and discern the cozenages, and superstitions and Idolatry of Popery, which by an impious and sacrilegious distribution divideth the glory of God (which is incommunicable) & imparteth the same with feigned & filthy Idols: he likewise told him that he well foresaw all the infamies & miseries which would ensue upon this his conversion: and all the danger & damage which thereby his house and children were likely to incur. But he said, that seeing one of those must needs be chosen, either to stay at home with a conscience burdened with a heavy heap of errors and superstitions piled together by the sleight of satins art, & every moment to sin against the Majesty of God so many thousand ways; or else to leave his house, his goods his family, his country, yea the world and all the glory of it, and thereby purchase liberty of conscience to serve the Lord according to his word: that therefore he resolved of the two evils to choose the less, and of the two good to choose the greater, and rather to shut his eyes at all these, than the sight of them should hinder him from yielding to the call and voice of his Saviour Christ: who saith, That a man is not worthy to be his disciple, who leaveth not father & mother, & children, & brethren, and sisters; yea and his own life, in comparison of him. And this he said was the cause, why he did forsake parents, and wife, and children, and all his friends, and had renounced all his wealth and dignities: because he could not enjoy both Christ and them. And as for them all, he was sorry that either they would not come to him, or that he might not more safely live with them, thereby to comfort them. But as for himself, he said, he had riches, and honour, and joy enough: yea all sufficient happiness, as long as (with these two servants and his little cottage) he might live in the true Church of God, and might privily serve him, and might enjoy God's word and sacraments, not being mixed and defiled with the superstitious devices of man's brain; and as long as he might live in the company of godly men; and have time and liberty to meditate by himself, and to confer with them of the great blessings which in his conversion his good God had vouch▪ safed to him: that so he might with true contentation and perfect peace of conscience, aim & aspire at that immortal glory which Christ jesus hath prepared for all his children: yea he concluded, that his want was abundance, his poverty pleasant, and his mean estate honourable in his eyes, as long as he endured them for these conditions.  
This his answer was as hardly entertained of his kinsman, as it was unlooked for afore it came: but seeing he could not reply with any reason, nor answer him with any show of argument; and perceived it hard, or rather impossible to remove the man one jot from his resolution; for that he had grounded it, not on any reason or will of man, but upon the holy word of God, and his powerful and unresistible calling; therefore with a sorrowful heart he held his tongue, bitterly complaining within himself of his so hard hap, and uncomfortable success: and so resolved to return home again; heartily wishing he had never taken that journey in hand: and so at last he went indeed and took his leave of his beloved Galeacius, but not without plenty of tears on both sides, with many a woeful cry and pitiful farewell. And no marvel: for besides nearness in blood, their likeness in manners and daily conversation together, had linked them in a sure bond of friendship: but there wanted in one of them the surest link in that chain, that is, Religion, and so it could not hold: and therefore the world pulling one of them from Christ, and Christ pulling the other of them from the world: so these two friends left each other, being in fear never to see one the other again.   

CHAP. XV.  
Of his cousin's return to Naples without success, and how Galeacius was proclaimed Traitor for his departure.  
ANd thus at last he came home to Naples with heavy cheer. Whose approach being hard of, there was running on all sides to hear good news: but when he had delivered his message; alas how all their sorrow was redoubled upon them; and how his father, wife, children, and all his friends were overwhelmed with grief: and the rather, because as at the same time an edict was published, wherein Galeacius was proclaimed guilty of high treason: and therefore all his goods coming to him by his mother, were confiscate, and himself, and all his posterity utterly cut off and excluded from all right of succession in his father's marquisdom; which thing (above all other) grievously affected the old marquess, and grieved the good old man at the very heart; the advancing and honouring of his posterity being the only thing he had aimed at all his life. Whereupon he bethought himself as old as he was to make a journey to Caesar the Emperor, and thereby if it were possible to prevent this mischief; purposing to make but this suit to his Majesty, that his sons departure from the Roman Church, might not prejudice nor hinder the succession and honour of his children and posterity, but that he himself might only bear the punishment of his own fault.   

CHAP. XVI.  
Of the second means used to recall him: his father sent for him to come and meet him at Verona; but all he could do by himself or others whom he set on, prevailed nothing at all.  
AND whilst he was resolving of this purpose, he bethought him of another remedy and means, whereby he hoped to remove his son's mind from his purpose, and withdraw him from the company of these heretics of Geneva, as he and the world accounted of them. Therefore in hast he dispatched away a messenger with letters to his son, commanding him by the authority of a father to meet him at a certain day appointed at the city of Verona in the Dominion of the Venetians; at which town he promised to stay for him, as he went to wards Germany to the Emperor: and for his sons more security, he procured a safe conduct from the Duke and Signory of Venice; that his son might go and come without danger of life or liberty. Galeacius receiving the letters, and being resolved by his own conscience, and them to whom he imparted the matter, that he might not any way with good conscience disobey so reasonable a request and lawful a commandment of his father, answered that he would go; although he feared that by this meeting, and talk of his father and him, his father's mind would but be more vehemently exasperate against him: for he firmly resolved afore he went, that all the threatenings, entreaties, counsels, and temptations that his father could devise, should not stir him one inch from that course of Religion, whereby he had begun to serve the Lord. With this purpose he departed Geneva, Aprilis 19 1553. furnished with heavenly fortitude, assisted 〈…〉 aiers of the Church, and armed with constancy, and with the sword of God's word; whereby he hoped to sustain and beat back all the darts of temptations whereby he knew he should be assaulted. Coming to Verona, there he found the marquess his fafather, who received and used him kindly, though he could not but manifest in his countenance the inward anger and grief ofhi heart. After a few salutations, the father began with all his cunning to deal with him about his return home again, laying open to the full that perpetual in famy, which was sure to fall on his house and posterity, unless that Galeacius did prevent so great a mischief: which (saith he) thou easily mayest do, and of right oughtest to do: and I know thou wilt do, if there be in thee but one spark of natural affection to father, wife, or children. Galeacius the son with such reverence as was due to his father, answered with all sub●●●sion that his body and estate is his fathers, but his conscience is the Lords: and tells him he can by no means return home, but he should make shipwreck of a good conscience: he proves it to him by good reasons, and such as his father could not resist; and therefore humbly entreats his father, that seeing his desire is only to obey the Lord, and save his soul; that therefore he would not urge him to respect more the good estate of his children, than the glory of God, and his own soul's health. The marquess perceived he laboured in vain to remove his son from his resolution, which he judged to be nothing but a perverse stubbornness against the Catholic Religion, as he thought: and therefore with grief ofminde ceased that suit; and imparted to him the cause ofhi journey to the Emperor; strictly enjoining him that he should not return to Geneva, but abide in Italy till he had obtained his suit at the emperors hand, and was returned out of Germany; which thing Galeacius promised and performed: for he abode in Italy until August: at what time he had notice that his father had prevailed in his suit before the Emperor. During which time, one Hieronymus Fracastorius, 
Hieronymus Fracastorius.  a notable Philosopher, Physician, and Poet (being procured and set on by the marquess) dealt with Galeacius with all his might and eloquence, to persuade him to yield to his father; adding withal, that that new sect (as he termed) was false and deceitful, and not worthy to be believed. Galeacius heard all he could say, and answered him point by point: and finally, by the pure simplicity of the word of God, he so satisfied him (though he was both wise and learned) that he willingly held his tongue; and at last friendly entreated him, that he would not be angry for that his importunity and boldness with him.   

CHAP. XVII.  
Of his return to Geneva, where he founded and settled a form of discipline in the Italian Church.  
THus Galeacius hearing of his father's success, returned with a joyful heart towards Geneva; for that he saw his father delivered from the fear of that infamy, which the confiscation of his goods, and forfeiture of his lands, might have brought upon his family: and therefore he hoped he would be the less moved against him. Whereupon settling himself down again at Geneva, and devising how to spend his time in doing good; he began to consider seriously of settling the discipline in the Church of the Italians, which was then at Geneva (for thither had a great number of Italians transported themselves and their families for Religion's sake, flying the tyranny of the unholy inquisition.) And about that time it fell out fitly that Calume going Ambassador from Geneva to Basill in causes of Religion and other matters; entreated Galeacius to bear him company: whereunto he willingly condescended. At Basill he found an Italian called Celsas, whose right name was Maximilian, and was descended of the noble house of the Earls of Martinongo in Italy: this man had got a great name in Italy amongst the Papists for his eloquency & speech, and lately by the mercy of God was escaped out of the mite of popish superstitions. Galeacius right glad of him, persuaded him to break off the purpose that he had for England, and go to Geneva with him, where he might live in the fellowship of a great number of his country men Italians, and enjoy the benefit of the company, conference and familiarity of many worthy men, but especially the most sweet acquaintance of that great Calvin, and all those, with the liberty of a good conscience. The good gentleman yielded, and so they coming to Geneva by their industry and good means (together with the help and direction of Calvin in all things) that form of discipline was established in the Italian Church, which at this day standeth & flourisheth in the same church, & remaineth recorded in a book for that purpose: & Maximilian the Earl, of whom we spoke afore, was the first Pastor elect of that church, & undertook the charge, purely to expound the word of God, and to administer the Sacraments that Christ left behind him, and to watch over that flock and people: certain Elders were joined as assistants to him, to whom was committed the care of the Church, to look to the purity of doctrine and life in all estates; the principal of the Elders was Galeacius himself, unto whom the honour is due of bringing to pass so worthy an enterprise, and the rather for that by his authority, diligence and watchful care, he preserved the same in good and sure estate all his life time; and after him it hath continued, being derived to others, to the great good and profit of many souls. And thus he passed this year 1554. withioy and comfort.   

CHAP. XVIII.  
The third temptation to draw him away: liberty of conscience offered him by his uncle, Pope Paul the fourth: which after many temptations of flesh and blood to the contrary, at last by the assistance of God's grace he refused.  
NExt succeeded in order the year 1555. wherein Satan assaulted him with new stratagems and devices: for that year his uncle which was Paulus quartus, his mother's brother, attained the feat of the Papacy of Rome, whereby the marquess his father conceived good hope, by this means either to draw his son home again, or at least to procure him liberty of conscience, and leave to live in some City of Italy, where he might enjoy the society of his wife and children, and they of him. Whereupon having occasion of business to travel that way, he sent letters to his son to Geneva, commanding him to meet him at Mantua in Italy, and for his easier dispatch he sent him provision of money for the journey. Galeacius obeying again his father's will, took his journey from Geneva, and came to Mantua the fifteenth of june, where he was entertained by his father with more than ordinary kindness, and in more loving manner then heretofore was accustomed. And at last he opened his mind unto him, the substance and effect whereof was: that he had obtained of his uncle, who now was Pope▪ a dispensation for him; whereby liberty was granted him, to live in any City within the iuristiction of the Venetians, wheresoever he would without any molestation to be offered him, about his Religion or conscience. His father tells him that if he do this, this will be a greater solace to his old age, than his departure and absence hath been grief unto him: besides all this, the good old man most earnestly entreated him (though he was the father and spoke to the son) that he would gratify him in this his request: and added many beseechings, who in any lawful thing might by his authority have commanded him: and every word that he spoke was so seasoned, as coming from the affection of a father; and at last with many strong reasons persuaded him, not to reject this so extraordinary a favour offered him by the Pope in so special and rare clemency, whereby he might without hurt of his conscience live more commodiously than ever afore, and be restored to his former honour, and place, and estate: and recover the former love and estimation of all his friends: yea and of many strangers, who hearing of this his obedience to his father, would love him for it, unto which obedience to me (saith the father to his son) thou art bound both by the bond of nature, and by the law and word of God, which thou so much talkest of and urgest to me: therefore, saith he, if there be in thee either spark of natural affection, or any Religion and conscience of thy duty, thou wilt yield unto me in this, especially seeing thou mayst do it without hurt or endangering of thy conscience and Religion. This talk and request of the marquess diversly affected Galeacius: for the thing he requested, and the reasons he urged seemed to be such, as he could with no good reason contradict them; and yet he durst not presently entertain the motion: besides that, the presence, authority, and reverent regard of his father, the vehemency and affection of his mind, and especially the natural bond and obligation, wherein the son stands tied to the father in things law full and indifferent (especially when by that obedience no violence is offered to good conscience) all these did greatly move him. Also natural and carnal reason for their parts, assaulted him no less violently with such kind of arguments, as for the most part prevail with all men. For his father offered him yearly revenues, competent and fit for his estate, the solace of his children, and society of his wife: which two things he desired above all other in the world. So that to this motion and request of his father the marquess, Galeacius knew not well what to answer on the sudden, but stood for a time musing and doubtful what to say; and the rather, for that he then wanted his special friend, faithful Caluine, with whom he might consult in so weighty a cause. It seemed to him impious and ungodly, not to yield to his father in so lawful and reasonable a request, and he saw no way how he might deny it, but he must needs incur and undergo his father's extreme displeasure: and yet how he might yield to it with safety of conscience he much doubted; for he feared that more danger to his profession and Religion, and consequently more hurt to his soul might hereupon ensue, than he could presently perceive: so that he stood altogether unresolved in his own reason what to do; therefore in this extremity he denied himself and renounced his own wit, and in humble and fervent prayer betook himself in this difficulty to the blessing and direction of his God and Saviour, the author and true fountain of wisdom and constancy: humbly craving of the Lord to assist him with his holy spirit, that in this extremity he might advise and resolve of the best and safest course, for God's glory and his own sound comfort. (O how truly sung that sweet singer of Israel King David, when he said, How happy and blessed are they that fear God, for God will teach them the way they should walk!) Galeacius found it most true in his own experience; for upon this his submission and prayer, the Lord from heaven resolved him in this sort: That seeing the Pope did (Antichrist-like) directly oppose himself to Christ▪ and his Religion and Church; that therefore he might by no means sue for, or accept any favour at his hands, nor be by any means beholden to him at all. Because what show of service soever was done to him by the enemy of Christ, seemed to be taken from Christ himself. Further, God's spirit persuaded him it carried too great a show of Apostasy, or backsliding; to forsake the company of godly professors, and the fellowship of Christ's Church; and to live amongst Idolaters in the midst of all abominations. The same spirit of God set before his eyes that scandal and offence, which this fact of his would breed in the minds of the faithful▪ which would think that he had taken his farewell at Religion, and would now shake hands again, & renew his acquaintance with his old friend the world: that he had lightly esteemed the spiritual blessings & heavenly jewels of graces, which God distributeth daily in his Church; and would now betake himself again to the old affections of his flesh. The same spirit resolved him, that thus to forsake the ordinary means, and deprive himself of the true use of the word and Sacraments, and to live in a place where was nothing but Idolatry, was to tempt God in the highest degree. God likewise opened his eyes, that he perceived the sleight of Satan by this his father's d●●t: namely, to entangle him again in the net of worldly cares, to wrap his mind in the snards of Italian pleasures; and so to dazzle his eyes with the honours, and pleasures, and sensual delights▪ which once he had been brought up in, that his Religion might decay by little and little and that all godliness might by the heat of these new pleasures, fall and melt away like as wax before the fire: and lastly, the Lord upon his prayer granted him the wisdom of his holy spirit, to answer all his father's objections, and confute all his arguments. And amongst many other, he earnestly entreated his father that he would not do that unto him, which afterward he would repent that ever he had done: namely▪ that he would not be a means to make him a prey to the Papists; which had confirmed for a law, and ratified it by many examples, that promise, faith, nor oath is to be kept with any man whom they call heretics. Whereupon, said he, it is better for me, and more joy to you, to live as I do with this poor estate, then with hope of better to endanger my life, and so our whole posterity. By these, and such like persuasions it pleased God so to work upon the marquess, that he was overcome in this suit, wherein he supposed to have prevailed; and therefore he yielded against his will: and so with a sorrowful heart he returned to Naples. And as he went, he certified the Pope the obstinacy of his son, and so the father and the uncle bewailed together their ill success.   

CHAP. XIX.  
Of his acquaintance with Franciscus Portus, and the Religious Duchess of Ferrara in his return home to Geneva.  
But in the mean time Galeacius after he had accompanied his sorrowful father somewhat on the way, returned with a full glad heart; and came to the city of Ferrara▪ where he was joyfully received of Franciscus Portus, a noble and renowned man for learning, and who afterwards taught publicly at Geneva many years, and read the Greek Lecture with great profit to the audience, and praise to himself. This Portus bought Galeacius into acquaintance with the noble Duchess of Ferrara, who entertained him honourably: and after much conference had with him of the alteration of his Religion, of the success of his long voyages, and tedious journeys; of the Church of Geneva, of Caluine, and of many chief points of Christian Religion; she dismissed him, and left him to his journey; but not without all courtesies that she could afford him: and namely for one, to relieve the length and tediousness of the way, she lent him her own chariot: and thus Galeacius was conveyed in the chariot of so great a Princess as far as to the town of Francolium: from whence having a pleasant tide down the river of Po, or Padus, he came by water into Venice: where taking ship and crossing the sea, he went thorough Switzerland to Geneva, and thither came the fourteenth of October in the same year, the whole congregation, and especially his chief friends, rejoicing with joy unspeakable, for the safety of his return. And thus this cruel tempests thus being overblowen and now quieted, and Satan seeing he prevailed not by any of those forcible assaults; yet thought to try him with one more, and therefore came upon him a fresh, like as a second fit of an ague stronger than the first: and by this Satan feared not but to give him the overthrow▪ and to bring him home again into Italy: and thus it was.   

CHAP. XX.  
The fourth assault that Satan used to bring him back again, was by his wife, who by her letters won him to come and meet her in Italy: which he yielded unto, and gave her meeting.  
HIS wife Victoria burned in long love and hearty affection toward her husband Galeacius, so that it cannot be uttered how vehemently she desired his company: whereupon she never ceased writing to him, and entreating him to return again to her and his children. But when she saw her womanly arguments and vain scribbling did no good, at last she in all earnest manner desired him to meet her in some City within the territory of the Venetians, not far from the kingdom of Naples. To this motion Galeacius yielded: and thus the husband and wife promised to meet; but the ends that they aimed at were divers: she hoped by her slattery and fair speeches, her tears and lamentations, to win her husband home again: on the other side he was much more busy in devising how he might persuade her to deliver herself out of the filth of Popery, and come and dwell with him. With these resolutions they both going forward, she came to Vico, to her father in law the marquess. He came from Geneva to Laesina, a city in Dalmatia. This Laesina is distant from Vicum an hundred Italian miles by water; and standeth just over against Vicum; and the sea called the Venetian gulf lieth betwixt them. Galeacius here abode and expected 
Sinus Adriaticus.  his wife: but at that time she came not as she had promised, and he expected. Yet he could never learn the cause of her staying at that time, nor what it was that moved her so to disappoint him; yet though she came not herself she sent two of her eldest sons to their father; whose sight was most welcome, & their company most comfortable to Galeacius: but one way it grieved him the more; because the sight and company of them more affected him with the absence of his wife; for whose sake and company especially he had taken so long a journey: therefore sending them soon after home again, he went away sorrowful to Geneva. Where he had rested but a few days, but another packet of letters came posting from his wife, beseeching him not to think much at her former negligence, and to vouchsafe once again to come to the same place; where, without all fail, she would most gladly attend him, and solemnly vowed with largeprotestations she would not disappoint him. The request was very unreasonable, & it was a hard case for Galeacius thus to spend his time, and weary his mind and body in so long and dangerous journeys, and to so little purpose as hitherto he had. Notwithstanding, one thing moved him to yield even to this motion also: namely, a persuasion that he had, that when he first forsook his country, he did not fully discharge his duty, in labouring to win his wife to have gone with him; by explaining to her the chief heads of Christian doctrine, whereby she might possibly have received some taste, and so have taken some liking of true Religion: desiring therefore now if it were possible to make amends for his former negligence, he yielded to go. And so obtaining for his better security in going and returning, a passport or safe-conduct from the high Court of Rhoetia; he departed from Geneva the seventh of March, in the year 1558. and came to Laesina in Dolmatia, over against Vicum: where he had intelligence that the marquess his father, his wife, his children, and his uncles son (he of whom we heard before) were already come to Vicum, with purpose to have been by that time at Laesina with Galeacius; but they could not, by reason that a mariner of Venice had broken promise with them, and disappointed them: by reason whereof, and of other dangers of the sea, they could not as yet take shipping, nor durst venture over the water. Whereupon Galeacius not enduring patiently so long delays, resolved to go himself over to Vicum. Such was his faith in the Lord, and his love to his friends, that he respected not the imminent danger: but constantly relied on the Lord's protection; knowing that no fleshly affections drove him to his journey, but a sincere zeal to God's honour, and the soul's health of his kindred, and the discharging of his own duty unto them; whereunto he was persuaded that he had a special calling.   

CHAP. XXI.  
Of his arrival at Vico, his father's chief house, and his entertainment there: and what means were used to seduce him: and how his wife refused not only to go with him, but even to lie with him, because he was an heretic: being thereto, as she said, commanded by her Confessor.  
AND so arriving by God's mercy on the coast of Italy, not far from Vicum, he gave intelligence of his approach to his father the marquess; who presently sent his children to meet their father: and all his retinue to attend him into the castle; at whose entrance, it cannot be expressed how great joy was in all that house and noble family; and how all the Nobles and Gentlemen of his kindred and acquaintance rejoiced at his return; and began to cheer up their hearts with a new hope which hitherto had been cast down and oppressed with grief and despair. But above all other his wife (Madam Victoria) surpassed in joy and new conceived delight; hoping she had now recovered her most dear Lord and beloved husband, the only comfort and the sweet solace of her life. All (but Galeacius) exceedingly rejoiced at this meeting here; though indeed it greatly joyed his natural affection, to enjoy the company of his friends, so many, so near, and so dear unto him: yet his joy was tempered and allayed with a certain doubting fear which ran in his mind night and day. for the wise Gentleman well foresaw, that the fruition of that pleasure was but to last a while, and soon would have an end▪ for the end of his coming was not that which they imagined: and every day new matters ran in his heads the consideration whereof did not a little trouble him. He hath often since discoursed unto his friends, that all those days he lived in continual fear, to be suddenly apprehended, and cast into some filthy prison; where he should spend his days in languishing and lamentations, without any solace of his friends: yea and be utterly debarred of the comfortable reading of God's holy word. But return to the matter. At his first arrival he was entertained with much joy on all sides, and many cheerful countenances and kind welcomes. But alas, within a few days all this mirth and joy was turned into tears and lamentation, and unmeasurable grief: for when once he had opened to his father the marquess his constant purpose to persevere in the truth of that Religion he had begun to profess; and that he would rather die in the defence of it, then be drawn from it; then alas, what sighing, what crying, yea what doleful lamentation did it move in them all! But then let the Christian reader judge what a troubled spirit and woeful heart that good man had in this so fearful a combat betwixt the grace of God and his natural affections; and what a torment it was unto him, to see them all so near and dear unto him, labour to withdraw him from God; and to see his constancy in Religion so to grieve them, which was the joy of his own heart. Yet taking up with himself as well as nature could, and comforting himself in his God, he afterward dealt with his wife in all loving and yet earnest manner that she would follow him her husband, and delay no longer time, but come and live with him according as the law of God and nature required: which if she would do, he promised her liberty of her conscience and Religion, to live as she would▪ But for his own part, he told her aforehand, as she should after find; namely, that he was firmly esolued to live and die in that Religion, which (by the hand of God leading him) he had undertaken; and for the which he had forsaken country, kindred, and all those excellent and comfortable blessings of thus life, which God had given him. Here I leave it to the reader, but especially to the hearts of such women, as being wives, do truly love their husbands, to judge with what sobs and heartbreaking the silly Gentlewoman heard these words of her husband, whom she now saw past all hope to be persuaded to stay with her; which she desired above all worldly things. Yet it appears it was but in mere carnal and worldly respects, as the consequent showed: for though she loved him and desired his company never so much; yet being a wise, worldly, wilful, and indeed a right Papist, she answered him plainly (though with many tears) that she would never go with him to Geneva, nor to any other place, where was any other Religion, but that of Rome; & that she would not live with him as long as he was entangled with those heresies (as she called them) whereby it appears that she was a carnal politic Papist. She loved him, but where? in Italy; and there would line with him, but not at Geneva: and why? for in Italy he might advance her to the state of a marchioness; in Geneva he could not: there she might live with him a life full of all delights; but in Geneva a hard, base, & obscure life, and subject to many outward dangers and miseries. In which respects it was that she was so instant upon him to stay with her. But the conclusion was, her desire was to enjoy him & Italy both: but rather than she would leave Italy and the delicacies thereof, she chose plainly to forsake him; & to withdraw the duty of a wife from him. For it may in no case be omitted (which afterward he imparted to some his intierest and most inward friends) that she even then and there denied him that duty which a wife is bound to yield to her husband by the law of God and nature: that is, she would by no means give him due benevolence, nor consent to lie with him as man and wife: and gave this reason; that she was expressly forbidden of her Confessor, under pain of excommunication, because he was an heretic. Where behold Popish Religion what it is, that can separate man and wife for disparity in Religion; and can discharge men and women from those duties of marriage with which God hath charged them. How this monstrous unkindness and unwomanly answer pierced his heart, let any Christian man judge, whom God hath honoured to be an husband. Yet he overcame and even devoured all these tormenting griefs, and bear them with an invincible constancy and quietness of mind. Yet he purposed not to bear so great an injury for ever, but to redress and help it if it were possible: and therefore he further proceeded with her, and openly and plainly denounced to her, that unless she would yield him that matrimonial duty, which by God's law she ought: namely, to eat, and lie, and live with him; it would be a cause to make him sue out a divorce against her, and so procure a final separation; which if she were the cause of, she might thank or rather blame herself, who withdrew her neck from that yoke of duty towards him which marriage required, and which he for his part said, he would never have done to her, though her Religion was so far differing from his. Yet notwithstanding▪ he said, that she first refusing him, he had then just cause to refuse her, who had first by refusal of that duty refused herself as it were, and denied herself to be his wife. And so he concluded with her, that unless she would be his wife, he would no longer be her husband. This protestation no doubt, amazed and troubled her not a little, and vexed the silly woman's mind; especially for that he was and had always been such a husband to her, so good and kind, and every way so well deserving, that she loved him as her own eyes (therefore more was she to blame, that she esteemed him not as the light of her eyes:) but though this troubled her sore, yet it moved her not to her duty; so good a scholar was she in this Popish learning, that she would rather incur her husbands, yea Gods displeasure then her Confessors; and rather break their commandments so holy and just, then his, which was so ungodly, and so unreasonable: and it also less prevailed with her because she imagined he would not so do (though he spoke so) but only did it to fear her, and so in fear hereof to make her yield unto him.   

CHAP. XXII.  
Seeing he could not reclaim his Lady, he resolved to return to Geneva: and of the grievous temptations he endured: where he took his last farewell of his father, wife, children, and friends: and of his heavenly courage, in bearing and passing thorough them all.  
WHen therefore the good gentleman saw all things so far amiss, that even his wife was against him of all other, and gave him a deeper wound than all other his friends; denying him that society and fellowship which the bond of marriage yieldeth, & seeing that the time passed without any good doing, but rather to the increasing of grief on all sides; he therefore resolved to depart, and so calling his wife Victoria again, he iterated unto her his former protestation; and so bade her take it as his last warning. The doleful day of his departing being come, he held on his purpose, and so entered into the chamber of his father the marquess to do his duty unto him, and to take his leave: Who seeing his son thus past all hope of recovery, quenching his fatherly affection in fury and raging madness, like a frantic or desperate man, reviled him in most despiteful terms, and at last gives him his farewell with many a heavy and bitter curse. This so strange and extraordinary persecution, did this good gentleman suffer for Christ's sake; and it is marvel that it did not cause him to look back again, and turn his course. But it was Gods doing that his father should use these extreme and violent curses, rather than to go about to win him by allurements and gentle persuasions: for he hath often used to tell his friends, that this monstrous inhumanity and unnaturalness of his father did rather confirm and settle his mind; his nature being rather to be led then drawn, and rather to be won by friendliness and fair means, then to be urged by extremities. But God would have his servant to be tried by both means: namely, the allurements of his wife and the minacing of his father. Thus God would purge him in the fire of all kind of temptations. And thus by the power of God's grace having passed thorough this fire, behold a hotter is to be ventured on. Departing his father's chamber, with that burden of curses (which the Lord turned into blessings) he came into the great chamber, and so into the hall; where he found his wife, his children, his uncles son (afore spoken of) divers noble gentlemen his kinsfolks, and some his ancient familiars and domestic friends: all fraught with grief, and making heavy cheer; nothing was heard but sighs, and sobs, and cries; nothing was seen but tears and wring of hands: his wife embracing him, and taking him about the neck, beseeched him in most loving and most pitiful manner, that be would have care of himself, of her, and of all his children, and whole house; and not so wilfully to cast them all away. His young children all upon their knees, with arms stretched ou t, and hands holden up, and faces swollen with tears, cried unto him to have pity on them his own bowels; and not to make them fatherless before the time. His cozen and other kinsmen with heavy countenances and watery eyes looked ruefully on him; and though for grief they were not able to speak one word to him; yet every look, and every countenance, and every gesture was a loud cry, and a strong entreaty, that he would stay, and not leave so ancient and noble a house in such woful and desolate case. No words can suffice to express the grief of that doleful company, nor that lamentable departure that there was to be seen. Unutterable was the grief on their side, and unspeakable was the torment & temptation which the noble gentleman felt in this agonv, when he must either leave Christ jesus or leave all these for him. But amongst & above all, there was one most lamentable sight, which would even have wrung tears from a heart of flint. Amongst all his children he had one daughter, a towardly & goodly young gentlewoman of xii. years old, who crying out amain & wallowing in tears, fell down, & catching fast hold about his thighs and knees, held him so hard as he could by no means shake her off: & the affection of a father wrought so with him, as he could not offer with violence to hurt her; he laboured to be loose, but she held faster; he went away, but she trailed after, crying to him not to be so cruel to her his child; who came into the world by him. This so wonderfully wrought with his nature, he being a man of a most loving & kind affection; that he hath often reported he thought that all his bowels rolled about within him & that his heart would have burst presently, & there instantly have died, his child so having him fast about the legs. But notwithstanding all this, he being armed with a supernatural & heavenvly fortitude, he broke thorough all these temptations, & treading under foot whatsoever might hinder him from Christ, he escaped out ofthiss perilous battle a glorious conqueror; & so leaving that sorrowful house & dolorous company, he came with speed to the shore: where presently taking shipping, he caused them to hoist up sails towards Laesina with a turmoiled & distressed mind, one way surcharged with sorrow to remember the manner of his departure; another way surprised with joy to remember that he had escaped. And even as a ship in a tempestuoussea, the boisterous waves tossing it up & down, is thrown about, sometime touching the clouds▪ sometime plunged into the depth: So no doubt the noble mind of this young marquis was no less distracted with cotrary cogitations; being as it were in a labyrinth of distempered affections: sometimes he could not but remember that lamentable estate wherein he left his father, wife, & children: he often imagined he was still amongst them; he thought he heard them cry & call upon him; thought he still felt his little dear daughter clasping him about the legs & trailing after him; neither could he contain but break out into tears; neither could he for his life but often look back at that princely house, with all those goodly orchards, gardens, granges, fields & territories: to all which he was the only heir apparent; yet all which he saw he must leave for Christ sake. But one thing pierced his heart to see his wife, and children, and other his alliance standing on the shore; who when they could not speak to him, looked at him; and when they could not see him ceased not to look after the ship as long as it was in sight; neither could he refrain but with a woeful countenance look at them again as long as he could discern them: and withal he called to mind the bitter words and heavy farewell which the marquess his father gave him at his departure; all which cogitations running in his head, did doubtless wring from his sorrowful heart many a deep sigh and heavy groan, and many a bitter tear from his watery eyes: and yet notwithstanding all these, the spiritual strength and courage of his mind was constant and invincible. And even as a good Pilot in a raging sea, when clouds and darkness, thunder and lightnings, storm and tempest run together, and toss the ship from wave to wave, as lightly as a ball from hand to hand; yet for all that he sits still at the helm, with undaunted courage, and marks his compass; and by his courage and skill together keeps on a right and steadfast course thorough all the rage of sea and weather: even so this our thrice noble Galeacius taking hold of the holy and heavenly anchor; namely, a lively faith in Christ, and a steadfast hope in God, he surmounts the clouds, and fixeth those anchor-holdes in heaven, and looking steadfastly with a spiritual eye, at the true load star: namely, Christ jesus and the hope of eternal happiness; he directs his course towards the same with an heroical spirit, and heavenly resolution thorough the tempestuous waves of those fearful temptations: and the ship that carried his body, did not so fast transport him from delicate Italy towards Dalmatia, as the ship of heavenly constancy and love of God withdrew his mind and meditation from all natural respects and worldly delights, and made it mount aloft in holy contemplation. And thus the presence and grace of God's spirit, having overcome the power of natural affections; he began to cheer up himself after this tempest: and first of all, bending the knees of his heart to the eternal father in heaven; he yielded his Majesty most hearty thanks, for that he had furnished his soul with such a portion of his grace, as to withstand and conquer Satan in such a perilous battle: and for that he had delivered him from the danger of Popish thraldom, from the inquisition, and from that perpetual imprisonment both of conscience and body which the Popish Church would have brought him unto, had he not thus escaped their hands. He likewise praised God unfeignedly, that he vouchsafed to give him time, opportunity, and grace to discharge that duty to his wife the young marchioness, which at his first departure he had omitted, and which oftentimes he had with great grief bewailed, and that he had enabled him to omit nothing which might have persuaded her to have left Sodom, and to have undertaken with him this blessed pilgrimage towards the heavenly jerusalem. The remembrance of these things much refreshed his troubled mind. It also much contented and satisfied his conscience, that upon that monstrous and undutiful behaviour of his wife towards him (spoken of before) he had made that protestation which he did: namely, that he would use the lawful means to be divorced from her, who had first of all divorced & cut off herself from him, by denying that duty of love, which the wife may not deny to the husband, nor the husband to the wife: he persuaded himself that this protestation would work well with her, and make her more confirmeable to her duty, when she had advisedly thought of it.   

CHAP. XXIII.  
Of his journey home again by Venice, and thorough Rhoetia, Switzerland: and his safe arrival at Geneva: and of the great joy he brought to the Church by his safe return.  
reviving his troubled spirits with these cogitations, he arrived at Lasina in Dalmatia, which is the country over against Italy; from whence he passed in a very quiet passage, and calm sea to Venice: where he found many faithful servants of God, and good Christians; who having heard afore that he was gone to Vicum, were exceedingly afraid for that imminent and inevitable danger they saw he was in, either to have his conscience a slave to Popish vanity, or his person a prisoner to Popish cruelty; therefore they ceased not to pray for him night and day: and yet for all that they feared greatly what would become of him. But when now at last they saw him return, both sound in conscience, and safe in person; & such a glorious conqueror over Satan, and over so many strong temptations with which the world and natural affections had assailed him: their fear was turned into comfort, their sorrow into joy, and they all glorified the Lord for him. And so after mutual comfort given and received, he departed from Venice, and traveled thorough Rhoetia and Switzerland; where he visited the Churches of the Protestants, and comforted them greatly with his presence, and by telling them what great things the Lord had done for him: and so by the good hand of his God upon him, he came in safety to Geneva the fourth of October in the year 1558. His safe arrival brought exceeding joy to the whole Church there; but especially to the Italian Congregation: for his long absence had brought them into some suspense and doubt, not of any alteration of his Religion, but of some cruel and false measures to have been offered him by the deceitful Papists. But when they saw him so safely returned, untouched in conscience, and unhurt in his person; and that he had passed so many pikes of temptations which they knew had been pitched against him; they gave great thanks to the Lord for him. But when he had discoursed unto them particularly the whole course of the proceedings: first, what a strong battery of temptations and assaults the devil and the world had planted against him, then how manfully he fought and withstood, and at last overcame them all; they fell into admiration of so rare constancy, and thought him worthy of all honour, to whom it is given (as the Apostle saith) to suffer so much for Christ and for Religion's sake: and in all earnest manner they magnified the singular grace and mercy of God towards him, and towards the whole Church in him; which had not suffered his servant (this noble Galeacius) to be seduced out of the way of that holy calling whereto the Lord had called him: and who had delivered him from so subtle a train, laid by the policy of the enemy Satan, to have entrapped his soul and conscience, by overturning him in the race of his Religion: and they all acknowledged that this noble and godly Gentleman found it verified in himself, which the kingly Prophet saith in the Psalm: Because he hath trusted in me, therefore I will set him free: I will be with him in his troubles, I will deliver him, and crown him with honour: and in another place, he that trusteth in the Lord shall never be confounded. And thus the Church received a double benefit by him: for first, his practice was an example unto them all of a most extraordinary and heavenly constancy in the love and profession of true Religion: secondly, the merciful dealing of the Lord with him, was a notable confirmation of their faith, and an encouragement to them to persevere and stand to the truth, with assurance that the Lord himself would stand by them.   

CHAP. XXIIII.  
Certain years after his return to Geveua, he begins to feel in himself a necessity of marriage: he delivers his case to Calvin, who refused to consent: the matter is referred to the Churches of Switzerland, and by them he is resolved that he is free from his first wife, and may marry again.  
AND thus with unspeakable contentment in his own conscience, and with public joy and thanksgiving of the whole Church, he settled himself at Geneva in his former private and quiet life. Where after a few years he began to find in himself some reasons which persuaded him to think it needful for him to live in the estate of marriage: and therefore having thus long waited and expected a more wise and dutiful answer from his wife; and perceiving by her not answering, that she still persisted in that monstrous and unnatural wilfulness, which her blinded Popish mind had formerly undertaken by the persuasion of her blind and Popish guides; he therefore purposed to take such course for his remedy, as by the law of God and his Church should in that case seem allowable: namely, to be divorced from her; who for her part had broken the bond and untied the knot of matrimony. And first of all he imparted his mind and purpose to M. Caluine, and craved his godly and wholesome counsel in a case of so great importance. His counsel was first of all, that it was more convenient and less scandalous to the enemies of Religion, if he could abstain. But the Gentleman replied, that the case was so with him, as he could not abstain, and gave him many weighty reasons which drew him to marriage; and withal participated unto him some secret reasons: for the which he affirmed it was altogether necessary for him to marry. Holy Caluine as he was a man endued from God with sharpness of judgement, and a wise and discerning spirit: so he foresaw plainly that many would speak evil of the fact, others would take offence at it, some would plainly condemn it, and speak evil of Religion for it; and the rather because (as he truly said) very few did rightly conceive the full truth in the doctrine of divorcement: but fewest of all would or could know the whole circumstance of this particular fact. He likewise wisely considered that the like precedent was seldom seen, especially in the Italian Church, whereof this Gentleman was a principal member, and of special account, both for his nobility, birth, and descent, and for his zealous love to Religion. All which considerations, with divers other, made reverend Caluine not too easily to subscribe to this purpose and motion of Galeacius. Notwithstanding, when the Gentleman urged him out of the word of God and good conscience, with arguments which he saw and confessed he could not sufficiently answer; therefore lest he should burden and trouble the conscience of so good a man, which alleged for himself, that he was driven by necessity to that course; he yielded thus far to him: that if he would repair unto the learned and reverend Divine Peter Martyr, and ask his opinion, and the opinions of all the learned and chief Divines of Rhoetia, and Switzerland; and desire them seriously to consider of it (as in a matter of such moment, and of so great consequence, it was requisite) and then set down their judgements in the matter, and the reasons moving them thereunto; he promised that he would also subscribe unto them, and most willingly yield unto him, what liberty soever they did allow him: always provided, that he also should submit himself unto their censure, and stand to the trial of their judgements in this case. Galeacius most willingly yielded hereunto, as who desired nothing, but that which the Lord by his word, and by the voice of his Church, should allow unto him; and so taking the course that Caluine had advised him, he caused letters to be drawn and sent to Zurich, Berue, and other the Churches of Switzerland; opening the whole circumstance of the matter, and expounding the case truly and fully; and humbly craved the judgement of the Church in a case of conscience so great and doubtful. The chief Preachers and most learned Divines yielded to his honest and godly request, and assembled about it: the matter was much and long debated, and argued at large on both sides: and after mature deliberation, and sufficient consultation had; it was concluded and agreed on by them all with one consent, that he might with safe conscience, depart from that wife, which had first of all on her own part broken the bond, and dissolved the marriage knot: and for the proof of this their opinion, many causes and reasons were alleged and laid down out of the Scriptures, Fathers, Counsels, and out of the Civil law, which is the law almost ofal countries in Christendom. All which (both their conclusions & their reasons) were put in writing, and are registered and safely recorded; and are kept to this day ready to be showed to whomsoever and whensoever need shall so require: for it was thought good by the Church so to do; both for that the case was extraordinary, and would be sinisterly spoken of, and censured by many; who knew not sufficiently how it stood: and especially for the preventing of any slander or cavil, which the enemies might object against our Religion.   

CHAP. XXV.  
By public sentence of the Church and judgement of the law, he is divorced from his former wife: and after a time he marrieth a French Gentlewoman, a widow of about forty years of age, himself then being about three and forty.  
GAleacius having thus laid his foundation▪ proceeded further; but still with the consent of the Church, and observing the due form of Law, and the ordinary course of justice in such cases, he craved publicly of the Magistrate that he might be divorced, that is, that he might be pronounced to be free and discharged from that wife, who had already cut off her self from him. The Magistrate considering the truth and circumstance of the case, together with the judgement of the Divines, whereunto also was agreeable the judgement of the Law, granted unto him, as by his advocates it was required; & so in public Court, and by sentence definite, and irrevocable he was divorced, and was pronounced to be free, and discharged of his former wife Victoria; and that it was lawful for him and in his choice to live unmarried, or to marry as he himself would. After which liberty obtained, he imparted the matter to his friends, and applying himself to think of another wife, he asked their advices in this point also. And herein he took that course, which generally men in the world take, not; for in his choice he respected not so much wealth, birth nor beauty, but only to find a fit companion of his life, and such a one, as with whom he might lead that which remained of his life, in a comfortable contentment, in tranquillity of mind and peace of conscience; that so he might the more cheerfully serve the Lord, and wait for the coming of jesus Christ. Which course of his is more to be noted, especially in so great a man, and so honourably descended; and the rather to cross and control the carnal and worldly courses, which men for the most part and women also observe in their marriages; respecting those things first, which should be last, and that last or not at all which should be first and above all. Galeacius continuing this his purpose, and looking about for his choice, the providence of God (which doth neverfaile his children, especially in so great matters) did offer unto him a fit opportunity. For so it was that at the same time, a certain gentlewoman of France, a wido we came from Rouen to Geneva, for true religions sake, which she loved and professed, and for the love of it left her country, & came thither for liberty of her conscience. She was a matronelie, and a grave woman, and well reported of for her modesty, honesty, fear of God, and for manifold good qualities: her name was Anna Fremeria, and was about forty years of age. All which circumstances Galeacius well observing, thought her a fit and convenient wife for him: and so with the consent and liking of other his good friends, he took her to wife, and married her the sixteenth day of january, in the year 1560. and in the three and fortieth year of his age; and they lived together many years after with much comfort one of another, & in an excellent agreement, being both of the same Religion, and of one mind; always drawing in one yoke, and bearing one burden; dividing it betwixt them; whether it was joy or sorrow: so that the unquietness of his life past, was now recompensed with a life full ofall contentment; and so loving her, and being truly loved of her, they spent their days in all mutual comfort, solacing themselves in their quiet and private life, and joying in the mutual faithfulness and loyalty which one performed to another. Lo thus shall the man be blessed that feareth the Lord.   

CHAP. XXVI.  
Of his course of life after his marriage: his frugality.  
NOw being married, he laboured to deliver and disburden himself of worldly cares; and therefore he prescribed to himself a sparing and frugal course of life; resolving to keep himself within the compass of his revenue▪ which although it was as much again as it was afore, by his wives dowry: yet by many other hindrances was far less than heretofore it had been. And first for his household, his care was to have it little as might be, and therefore 
His servants, but two.  for his service and attendance, he only kept two maidservants: and for himself, he led his life in great sobriety, and in very mean estate, yet always free from sordid baseness, and always keeping a seemly decorum; never 
His attire plain, but comely.  wanting any thing that was necessary, nor having much that was superfluous. His attire was plain and homely, but always comely, clean and handsome: and he that in his own country might have been Lord of so many tenants, and commander of so many servants, did now walk the streets of Geneva alone, often not having the attendance of one man: yea he would not disdain to come himself into 
His humility and lowly mind.  the market, nor think scorn to provide himself of necessaries: and sometime would buy and carry home fruits, herbs, roots, and such other things. And this course of life, together with liberty oftrue Religion, he esteemed greater happiness than the marquisdom of Vicum. And although by this course of life he could scarce be discerned from an ordinary man, and from the common sort of people: notwithstanding 
Evidences of nobility shining in his actions and behaviours.  in his countenance appeared that gravity in his gestures, behaviours, and in his whole body shone that comely majesty; as any wise man to have seen him, and well considered him, would have presently judged that he came of noble race; and that he had been fit for the greatest employments of the world: which also was so much the greater, because that with his excellency of birth and person, & perfection of all gentlemanly behaviours was joined true godliness, & the fear of God; which of itself is of such force as it is able even to honour him, who wanteth these worldly ornaments and outward perfections. How much therefore did it magnify him, who had it in so great measure, and accompanied with so many true compliments of gentry and honour? By alwhich it came to pass that so many parts of the chiefest excellencies meeting in that one man, made him to shine above other the members of the Church, even as the moon amongst the stars. So that the Italian Church, though but little of itself; yet by the virtues and worthiness of this one noble gentleman, seemed worthy to be compared with the whole Church of Geneva. And as he was a credit 
How greatly he was esteemed in Geneva.  and honour unto that Church, so was he again most honourably esteemed of that Church: yea not only of that Church, but of the whole Church and State of Geneva: for not one Senator nor Magistrate of the City, not one of the Preachers & Ministers of the church was to be found, which had not always in their mouths, the commendation of noble Galeacius: yea he was honoured and highly esteemed of bythem all, and it was hard to say whether he was more loved, or admired amongst them. In a word, he was loved of all men, looked at of all men, spoken of by all men, magnified and extolled, yea wondered at of all men; and though he knew not many himself, yet all men laboured to know him. No public meeting was appointed, no solemn feast was made, whereto this our Galeacius was not most solemnly called: yea every man was desirous of him, and happy was he that might have his company: yea they thought their meetings graced, and their houses honoured with his presence; and in all assemblies the chiefest and highest room was offered him: yeawas thrust upon him, though 
They still called him by the title of marquess.  he nothing at all respected it. And although he refused the name and title of marquess; because, he said, the Emperor had cut off his succession, and deprived him of that honour because of his Religion: notwithstanding, do what he could, he was called byno other name all his life long, and that not by some few his friends and favourites, but by all sorts of men, even strangers themselves, and such as were not of his Religion. For all men thinking that he had injury to be deprived of his lawful succession; therefore though they could not give him the living and estate, yet they gave him all they could▪ that is, the name and title. Such were his noble and gentlemanly qualities (besides his Christian virtues) that they won the love and liking of all men; and caused them to honour him far above that he desired or 
He was always visited by strangers, and travelers, especially Princes and noble men.  cared for: yea every one laboured to show any service or to perform any duty of love and kindness towards him: nay strangers themselves were desirous to see him, and were drawn into an admiration ofhim: insomuch as whensoever any of the nobility or Princes of Christendom, especially of Italy, did travel to see foreign nations; and for the most part taking Geneva in their way (which place generally all travelers have a great desire to see) they would by no means omit to see and visit Galeacius. Thus did Francis and Alphonsus the young Dukes of Ferrara, Octavius the Prince of Selerum: and thus did Fernesius the Duke of Parma, and divers other: who in their travel coming by Geneva entertained him in all the compliments of courtesy and of honour, no less then if he had been at Naples in his former glory; or if he had still been a courtier in the emperors Court, as heretofore he had been. In a word, no Noble man, no Ambassador, no great scholar, no man of note, of any foreign nation came that way, but presently they used means to have a sight of this noble marquess; and for the most part desired to have some company and conference with him: So that he was resorted unto continually by men of all sorts; as though he had not been a private man, keeping a mean estate and dwelling in a little house; but rather as though he had been a great Prince in the Court, or one near in place to the Emperor himself. But though all men desired his acquaintance and company, and he again was not curious in that point, but courteous to 
His company and conversation.  all as occasion was offered: yet for the most part, his most familiar conversation was with the men of his own nation: namely, with his countrymen the Italians, of whom there was a flourishing Church at Geneva at the same time; and which also flourished the better by his means, as heretofore hath been declared. Amongst whom though he behaved himself, it is doubtful whether more civilly, or more humbly; yet for all that he was honoured of them all, and used more like a Lord then a private man: which although he in every respect deserved, yet by no means desired. And so besides all his worthy and excellent parts, his humble mind and 
His courtesy and affability.  friendly conversation made him more honourable. And to speak but truth of him, out of all question he was not only a good Christian, but (which is not always seen) a perfect and an absolute man: yea a man can hardly name any of those good parts and amiable qualities; which for 
His rare perfections.  the most part do win a man love in the world; which were not to be found in this noble gentleman. For besides his noble birth and Princely education, his Religion and true fear of God; he was also humble minded, affable, courteous and friendly to all men: he was wise, discreet, of good 
His eloquence and ability of speech.  conceit, and of an excellent speech and discourse. It would have delighted a man to have heard him speak; for as his memory was exceeding good, so his natural eloquence, his smooth style, his easy, quiet and seemly delivery, made his speech to be greatly commended of all that heard him. A man would have wondered to have seen how many, even of the best sort, would have laboured to have been in his company, and as it were have catched up & eaten his words from his mouth, when it pleased him to discourse of some of those exploits and adventures, which had fallen within the compass of his own knowledge: as of the Emperor Charles the fifth his voyage into Provence, and of his wars which he waged in Gelderland, against the Duke of Cleeve, and of many other great affairs and special employments. Neither was he only a fit companion for gentlemen and men of 
His mildness to his inferiors.  estate, but such was the mildness of his nature and disposition, that he was also kind and courteous to men of lower place, and most ofall to the poor, amongst whom, if they were godly and honest he would converse as familiarly, as with his equals, or with men of greater place. He was also of a free and liberal heart, no poor or distressed man did ever 
His charity to the poor.  require his assistance, or crave his help, but presently he would reach vuto them his helping hand, and relieve them by all means he could, yea the want of his former wealth and loss of his marquisdom, did never grieve him, but when he had not wherewithal to exercise his charity, towards the poor souls of God: it was his joy and delight to be lending and giving to those that wanted, and in that respect only he often wished himself as great a man in Geneva as he was in Italy: but to his power and ability his good works did far exceed the proud and pharisaical papists, 
His good works and charitable deeds.  who glory in their works, and will be saved by them. Prisoners & men in danger did often feel his bounty; he omitted not to visit his sick brethren, and that most diligently: such as were poor he relieved; yea the richest and learnedst of all, did think themselves in their sicknesses happy to have him with them; his presence and 
His ordinary exercises of Religion, public and private.  company, but especially his talk and Christian exhortations were so comfortable unto them. His ordinary exercises were these; every day he repaired to the Church and heard divine service, and miss not to be present at prayers with the congregation, especially he never omitted to hear the Sermons and the word preached; which he did always with wonderful devotion & reverence to the word of God; for he judged and esteemed that the true happiness of a man, and the only sweet and pleasant life consisted in living holily, in walking in God's ways, in meeting with Satan's temptations, in bridling the corruptions of his nature, and in serving God truly and sincerely without hypocrisy: unto all which steps of happiness he thought he could never attain, but by the preaching of the word; whereunto he also adjoined a daily course of reading the Scripture; thus labouring out of the Scriptures to lay the foundations of his own salvation, which he applied to the profit and comfort, not ofhimselfe, alone, but of many others with him.  
Besides all this, for the love he bear unto the Church, and the desire he had to do all good he could; he took upon him 
His particular and personal calling.  the office of an Elder in the Church: the duty whereof he supplied daily, carefully observing and enquiring into the manners and lives of professors; allowing & encouraging the good, and censuring the offenders, which he did with great care & conscience, lest that scandals & offences might arise 
His courage and justice.  in the Church, whereby either the quiet and good estate of the Church at home might be disturbed, or the enemy might have any occasion to slander the profession of Religion. Neither stayed he here, but beside this public care and 
His love of peace, and continual ending of contentions, and setting men at unity that were at variance.  labour, he also was daily well occupied in more private matters: for where ever he saw, observed, or heard of any dissensions, suits in law, or controversies amongst Christian neighbours, he was exceeding careful to end and compass them; and for that end, as he had a ripe wit and a good conceit and deep insight, so he would employ them all to the finding out the truth and state of the cause: and having found it, he would use all his authority, yea he would make himself beholden to men, on condition they would yield one to another, and 〈◊〉 in peace. In a word, his whole course of life savoured of grace, and did show him to to be a sanctified man; yet doubtless he thought himself borne not for himself, but for God and for the Church; and he thought no time so well spent, nor any business so well dispatched, as that wherein, not any private gain, or pleasure to himself was sought or obtained, but only God's glory advanced, his Church edified, religion maintained, and the good work of God's grace confirmed in himself and others.   

CHAP. XXVII.  
Being aged he falleth into a long and languishing sickness.  
ANd thus he lived at Geneva many years full of joy and quietness, comfort, and contentment: far from all worldly ambition, and as it were forgetting what he was, & what he was borne to in this world, only respecting what he was to inherit in the world to come; & as he had begun, so he continued in a loathing and detestation of all popish superstition, and impieties. But with this great quietness of mind and conscience there wanted not some outward and corporal vexations: for after his long peace, new afflictions & storms came upon him, whereby the Almighty would yet better try him, and make his faith, his hope, his patience and perseverance to shine more gloriously; that so afterward he might receive a more excellent reward, and a more glorious crown. For first of all, he fell sick of a grievous, doubtful & dangerous disease, which had bred upon him by abundance of rheum, whereby he became so short wound that he could hardly draw his breath; by force of such weakness he was exceedingly tormented night and day: for the good gentleman was constrained oftentimes to sit up whole nights together and was fain to be removed from room to room, and from one place to another, to see if by any means he might take some sleep, which by the vehemency of this disease was almost quit gone from him. This disease had grown upon him by reason of his many and long and sore journeys, which he had taken by sea and by land for his conscience sake: and of the great distempers and alterations of the state of his body, which for his soul's sake he had undergone.   

CHAP. XXVIII.  
A new temptation assaults him: a jesuit is sent from his friends in Italy to reclaim him, by offering him great sums of money, and to▪ make his younger son a Cardinal: but he valiantly scorneth it all, and sends him back with shame.  
But this languishing sickness did not so much afflict his weak and aged body as Satan laboured by another device, and a new temptation to trouble and vex his righteous soul. For it came to pass that about the same time, when this disease had seized upon him, there came to Geneva out of Italy a nephew of his, the natural son of his own sister, with letters to him from his former wife Victoria the marchioness, as also from his eldest son the young marquess: unto which letters this young gentleman being also a scholar, added many words of his own to little purpose; labouring to persuade and allure him with much and vain babbling, that now at the last he would acknowledge his error, and return home again to his own country to his former Religion, and to his ancient inheritance, that goodly marquisdom. The principal cause both of their writing, and his coming so far was this: because that if he would now at last return again, hereby he said that out of all doubt he might advance his youngest son Charles, either to the princely State of a Cardinal, or at least to be some great Bishop. For, saith he, whereas your son is now admitted into holy orders, and is (for his great friends and alliance, and for his special towardliness) in possibility of so great preferment, your pertinacy and obstinate perverseness, in following and defending a new found and upstart Religion; and condemned (as he said) by all the great estates of Italy, is the very only hindrance of your son's preferment. These kind of news how highly they offended the holy and Christian soul of this thrice noble Galeasius, who from his heart abhorred, and in his soul detested those vain and ungodly and profane dignities in the popish Church; I leave it to be judged by the Christian reader. And therefore having with much grief of mind hard thus much of this unsavoury and unpleasant message, and not ablelonger to forbear, lie first of all took the letters, and before his face that brought them, threw them into the fire; and then briefly, but gravely, wisely, and zealously he shaped him his answer by word of mouth: thinking so bad and base a message unworthy the time and labour of writing. And first of all he told him, that there could not have come to him more heavy and unwelcome news of his son then these; that he was so blind a Papist, that for the hope of this worldly advancement he would venture the ruin and subversion of his soul. And bade him tell his son that he would hinder him in that ungodly course by all means he could: and he said, he knew not whether it more grieved him to see the vanity of his sons proceeding, than it rejoiced him that it lay in his power any ways to hinder him in the same: Yea, saith he, know thou, and let that my seduced son know, that you could have used scarce any argument unto me so forcible to make me persist in my Religion, and to detest Popery, as this; that in so doing I may hinder my son from the abominable dignities of the Popish Church: and therefore, saith he, return my son this answer; that in stead of helping him to these preferments, I will pray for ever to the Lord for him, who is the father of his soul and mine, that he would open his eyes to see the truth, and that he may have grace after the example of me his father to see the horriblesuperstitious idolatries & impieties of Popery, & seeing them to abhor & detest them: & renouncing the vanities of all worldly pomp and honour, to direct his foot steps to the Lord, and embrace his holytruth, and yield his soul and conscience obedient to the heavenly calling, and so become the servant and child of the most high God: whereby he may aspire and attain to the true and highest dignity; which is to enjoy the favour and comfortable presence of God, & his holy grace; to love God, and to be loved of him; and so at last to be advanced to that heavenly and eternalglory which is prepared for them who in this world do forsake themselves and their own desires, that they may in true holiness serve the Lord. With these and such like holy speeches he answered the disholy and dishonest demand of this carnal Papist. But for all that this importunate and unreasonable jesuit (for he was of that sect) ceased not to be troublesome to this noble and holy Gentleman▪ still urging him with fond and frivolous reasons, and pressing him with ridiculous arguments: as this especially for one; he promised him a huge sum of money, if he would return home: which, saith he, lies ready at Lions for you, and the Brokers and Exchangers there are prepared to pay it. And he further assured him, that if he would come again into Italy, they had procured him liberty of his conscience and Religion at Turing: and there also (he said) he should find a great sum of money ready for him. But when this importunatefellow presumed to press the good conscience of this resolute Gentleman with such base arguments▪ and began to weigh Religion in a pair of gold weights; then the noble heart of this holy Christian could not but show itself moved, and therefore in a holy zeal and an ardent love of his Saviour Christ jesus, he cried out, Let their money perish with them who esteem all the gold in the worldworth one days society with jesus Christ, & his holy spirit: & cursed, saith he, be that religion for ever, which shall wed men to the world, & divorce them from God. Go home therefore, saith noble Galeacius, take away thy silver again, & make much of that dross of the earth, together with your dregs of popery, lock them up together in the chest 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 And as for me, know it, that my Lord & Saviour Christ, hath made me enamoured of far more precious jewels and durable riches. But the heavenly constancy of this holy man, drove this frantic papist from his bias, into an extreme choler, for he according to the nature of his Pope's holy religion thought that when all arguments had failed, yet money would have won him, and therefore seeing him so highly to scorn, and so disdainfully to contemn so great offers, he thought it very strange; and therefore seeing all his labour lost, and his best hold prove so weak, he fell from money to mere madness; and forgetting himself, and his duty, broke out into ill words, and reproohfull terms: But when the Magistrate was informed of it, and saw that this arrogant papist durst so far abuse the patience of so honourable a man, therefore by their authority, they forbade him the City (as the manner of that place is in such cafes) and so this news bringer had his passport to be packing, and to go home and count his silver; and there to brag of his good success; for he now could say by good experience, that so much money as was enough to lead an hundred popish friars to and fro whither a man would, like Bears by the nose, could not touch the conscience of one protestant, much less make him a papist.   

CHAP. XXIX.  
Being delivered from the importunity of the jesuit: not long after, came a Monk, nimble witted and learned, a kinsman of his own, who had a strong conceit that he could have reclaimed him: but he came too late, the marquess being dead before he came.  
AND thus it pleased God to deliver this sick gentleman from this troublesome tempter, and this messenger of Satan which came to have buffeted him; but he buffeted, yea and vanquished him, & Satan in him; and he might report at home, that he found the marquess sick in body, but whole in mind, yea that he never saw in all his life so resolute a conscience, and so courageous a mind in so weak a body. And thus the Lord doubtless did in mercy to him; that being from this disquiet companion▪ he might with more comfort and less grief, bear the burden of his sickness, which now grew upon him more and more, and left him not till it made him leave the world, and till it had translated him from this his pilgrimage, to his eternal rest; and till it had made him of a poor marquess upon earth, a glorious King in heaven. Whose death as it was wonderfully lamented of the whole Church for the unrecoverable loss they had of him: so it was a merciful blessing, and a welcome messenger of God to him: for it freed and delivered him from many storms of new temptations which the Devil was raising against him; for within a short time after his death, there came to Geneva a certain Monk, a good scholar, a gentleman by birth▪ and near a kin to Galeacius; who being puffed up with Monkish pride, and a conceit of his own ability for such an enterprise, thought so far to have prevailed with Galeacius by his nimble wit and eloquent tongue, as to have persuaded him now at the last, either to have relinquished his Religion, or at least to have left Geneva and to have returned into Italy (where his uncle had been lately Pope) that so by his presence and countenance, and the help of his great friends (which he had both in the Popes and the emperors Court) his children might be in more possibility of those high dignities and great places in the world, which they and their other friends aimed at: and for the attainment whereof, nothing so much hindered them as their father's Religion, and course of life. But he returned home a proud fool as he came, and ashamed of his proud and insolent spirit; which persuaded him by his vain babbling he could have overcome him whom he found when he came to Geneva to have overcome the world, and all spiritual enemies, and now to be triumphing in the glory of heaven. And so leaving him and all other his Popish carnal kindred, gnashing their teeth for anger to see his admirable constancy; let us return again to our sick gentleman, whose end now hasting on, will also hasten an end of this strange story.   

CHAP. XXX.  
His long and languishing sickness grew and increased upon him in such measure, as his pain was most grievous; but he bore it all with an heroical and heavenly courage: so that it might manifestly appear that even the Lord from heaven did lend him strength; and as the torments and pangs of the disease increased, so hisfaith and patience and all heavenly virtues shone in him more and more: so that it was most true of him which the Apostle saith, as the outward man perished so the inward man was renewed daily. His body pined away, buthiss mind and soul grew from strength to strength: and as a by-stander feels not the pains of him that is tormented or racked before his eyes: so his soul and mind stood as it were a far off, beholding the pains and vexations of the body; and being untouched itself, did as it were laugh at Satan, sin, death, and damnation; who by all their joint power could do no more, but only to vex and rack this poor carcase with bodily disease, but were not able to touch the soul, to vex the mind, or wound the conscience. If any man ask the reason why his mind and conscience were so quiet in this so great torment of the body: the reason was▪ for that his mind was employed in holy meditations, as of the singular love of God his father unto him in Christ jesus; whereby he assured himself undoubtedly of salvation, of the manifold holy graces, wherewith God had adorned him: by the force whereof, he said, he had borne off so many buffets of Satan, had passed so many pikes of troubles, and come away conqueror in so many fearful fights, as had opposed themselves against him in his conversion. These gifts and graces of God he weighed with the crosses of his sickness, and found them far heavier; and he compared these momentany and light afflictions, with that exceeding and eternal weight of glory, which, he said, he knew was laid up for him in heaven. These and such like meditations cheered up his spirit more than the force of his sickness could appall him.  
But above all things he felt unspeakable comfort and sweetness in his prayers to the Lord; which he 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 fervently, and with a zealous and faithful heart. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 often say, that in the midst of his prayers, his soul seemed to him to be even ravished out of himself, and to taste of the blessed joys of heaven. So that the saying of the blessed Apostle was verified in him, As the sufferings of Christ abounded in us, so consolation by Christ abounded much more. In his sickness he wanted no help of the Physicians, for they came to him out of all parts of the city: and willingly did they all do their diligence about his body; whose soul they knew had Christ jesus to be the Physician for it. His friends also continually visited him, who were of the chief men in the city; and they were all welcome to him rich and poor: and it is hard to say whether he received more comfort by them, or they more spiritual edification by him; his speeches and behaviours were so full of patience, and so well seasoned with all grace. All his friends performed to him what duty soever was in their power, but especially his worthy wife did then show herself most loving and loyal, for she was never from about him, and saw that he wanted nothing which the world could yield for the recovery of his health. But all was in vain, for the time of his dissolution was at hand, and he had run the royal race of a most holy Christian life; and now nothing remained but a blessed death. He might say as the Apostle did with much joy of heart: I have run my race, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: from henceforth is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which Christ the righteous judge will give to me, and to all such as wait for his appearing.  
After few days the violence of his sickness was such, as it overcame all power of physic; so that it was manifest, that that blessed hour approached, wherein the Lord had appointed to accomplish his own good work in him; therefore he sequestered himself altogether from any more care of his body, and from all worldly cogitations; he renounced the world and all in it; he took his farewell of his wife, and all his Christian friends, and said, he should lead them the way to heaven. He fixed all his thoughts upon his soul, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ixed on the Lord in heaven: and cried to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 hat as he had sought him all his life, so he would ●● him, and acknowledge him for his own. And thus as all his friends sat about him, and as the Preachers and Ministers were occupied in holy prayers and reading of the Scriptures, and applying to him the heavenly consolations of God▪ word, in the performance of these exercises he ended his dales, wherein he had taken▪ delight all his life long: and as he rejoiced to have them in this life, so it pleased the Lord that he should have them at his death. And so in the midst of all his friends, in the presence of the Ministers, even in the fight of them all, he peaceably and quietly yielded up his spirit, and rendered his soul into the hands of his merciful God and faithful Creator, of whom he had received it; who immediately by the ministry of his holy Angels receiving it at his hands, and washing it pure in the blood of jesus Christ, crowned it with the crown of eternal & heavenly happiness. And thus this holy man was translated from a noble man on earth, to be a noble Saint in heaven: and of a marquess on earth in bare name and title, he was advanced to be a glorious & triumphing King in heaven: where he now reigns in glory with that God whom he so faithfully served on earth. That God and mereifull father grant that all we that read this admirable story, may be alured to take upon us the same most holy profession, that this thrice noble marquess did; and may renounce and cast off what ever in this world we see doth hinder us from the holy fellowship of Christ jesus; and strengthen us that we may be faithful to the end: that so we may obtain the crown of life in that glory, where this noble Galeacius and all the heavenly host of God's Saints do wait for us. Amen. This was his life, this was his end: let thy life be like his, and thy heart walk in the same way▪ then shall thy soul die his death, and thy latter end shall be like his.  
O Lord how glorious art thou in thy Saints!  
FINIS.