A RELATION OF THE DEATH, OF THE MOST ILLUSTRIOUS LORD, Sig. ʳ Troilo Sauelli, a Baron of Rome; Who was there beheaded, in the Castle of Sant-Angelo, on the 18. of April, 1592.  
With a Preface, containing diverse particulars, which are wholly necessary to be known, for the better understanding of the Relation itself.  
Domine, quis similis tibi?  Psal. 34. 
O Lord, who is like to thee?  
Permissu Superiorum, M.DC.XX.   

THE PREFACE TO THE READER.  
THE Relation following, hath been translated into diverse languages; though not at all into ours, nor yet so carefully, into others, out of the true Original Italian, as I could have wished. The differences between the copies, which walk up, and down the world, are not great; saving, that when there is question of truth; and that, concerning a noble subject; and the same, accompanied with variety of natural, and lively circumstance, I cannot find in my heart, to let any difference go for small. I have therefore, at once, taken both pains, and pleasure, to draw store of copies into my hand, and it hath not been without success. For if I have not laid hold upon the very first Original, which was written by the Relatour himself; I dare say, that I am grown very near it, & that it is precisely true. And this Elogium I will be bold to give to the Discourse, which we have in hand, that it hath been read in several countries with extreme avidity. Nay perhaps there hath not issued, in many of these last ages, any one historical Relation, of a particular accident, the 
(a) The relation following hath been seldom read without tenderness.  consideration whereof, hath more often been attended by tears, than this.  
The 
(b) The birth, & person, & parts of this Noble Man.  Person whom it concerneth, was a Baron of Rome, Sig. ʳ Troilo Sauelli; a branch, which sprunge up, from a root of as noble blood, as a most certain extraction from the ancient Romans, could tell how to make it. His person, & the parts of his generous mind, are best described in the Relation itself, which followeth; so that, I will not here by putting you to pains, prevent the pleasure which there you will have to overtake them. The cause for which he suffered, is not specified there at all; because his ghostly Father was the penner of this narration; and it became not him, who was the others judge in foro Conscientiae, to become his Accuser, in foro Curiae. For although his crimes were extant then, and are so still upon Record; and that the penitent did besides (for his own greater confusion, and the exaltation of the invincible Patience, and Mercy of Almighty God) give his Ghostly Father express leave, to declare his sins to the whole world; the Father yet, would by no means accept of that liberty; but speaking only in general words, of sin at large; he 
(c) The inviolable seal of the Sacrament of Confession; & how tender a good Ghostly Father, is, and aught to be.  burieth the particulars in profound silence, and under the seal of Confession, for reverence of that holy Sacrament, which must never upon any terms be defaced.  
But I, who am free, will not consent to have my hands tied up; but do think it fit to let you know, that although his years were few, his crimes were great, & many; as doth still appear upon the Record of his Process. And between the sixteenth, and the eightenth year of his age (till the former of which times, his vigilant, and holy Mother, was able to keep him in the discipline of piety, & virtue) he sprouted out, into great exorbitances; and in the Company, and at the head of the 
(d) These are men who for murders, & other extreme insolencies use to be banished and proscribed. They were wont in Italy, to go, in great troops up and down, & to infest the passages. Sixtus Quintus, was one of the first, who broke their back.  Banditi, he committed both rapes and murders, with a most tempestuous, and transported mind. Ominis 
(e) The bane which is brought upon young noble men by ill company.  inimica amicitia, seductio mentis investigabilis. He did too early, cast himself into the hands of flatterers, & wicked followers; and they made the way of sin so smooth to him, as that he could not hold from sliding through it. Nor was his tender youth so innocent, nor his education so excellent, but that the moth, and canker of lewd company, did soon corrode it.  
Yet even herein, was not his misery so great, as the 
(f) It is proper to God alone, to draw good out of evil.  mercy of God, upon this occasion, was infinite. His crims were not known, but by such alone, as would not easily adventure to draw upon themselves, the displeasure of so great a house as his, by detecting them. The manner only of his life, in respect of excess, and riot, was such, in the exterior, as wounded his noble, and tender Mother to the very soul. The passages, and proceedings whereof, are delivered in the Relation itself, with so great tenderness, in the person of her son, as strikes the heart of him that reads the words. I will not therefore touch that flower, for fear of strikng off the dew, every drop whereof is a pearl. One circumstance only which is not mentioned there, I will here express; because it will not fail to serve, towards the increase of compassion, in all their minds, who read this story.  
You 
(g) A circumstance of great importance, towards the moving of compassion.  shall therefore understand, that when the Mother had used all other possible endeavours, both divine and humane, for the reduction, and reformation of her son, and all in vain (for aught that she was able to perceive) she caused him, for some offences (which yet, were fare from being Capital) to be committed to Castle (k) S. Angelo; 
(h) This is the chief prison in Rome, as the Tower may be in London.  in hope that such a disgrace, with the help of time, would make him return into hmself. To this course she was the more encouraged, & in this hope the more confirmed, because by this restraint, he would be cut off from that ill company, which was the very pest, and poison of his soul. But see, and wonder at God's providence. He 
(i) Any little entrance into public disgrace carrieth danger with it,  was no sooner in prison, but the fire of eager opposition broke forth of their hearts, whom, by his other more enormous insolencies, he had offended; for till then, it had been smothered under the ashes of that respect, and reverence, which they carried towards the Dignity, & Nobility of his house. But now public justice taking notice of his excesses; and Pope Clement the eight, in the beginning of his Pontificate, being desirous to show a strong example, of what unpartial justice, the world was to expect at his hands; (especially in repressing, & extinguishing that aforesaid damned crew of Banditi, who were so pernicious to the State of Italy, and of whom this young Lord was grown a leader) did suffer the law to pass upon his person (for his state was not confiscated, but went to his heirs, in blood). Being even yet therein, more Just, then Clement; though perhaps he would have been more Clement in pardoning, then Just in punishing; if he could, by way of anticipation, have seen the beauty, and bravery of that noble spirit, which deserved to live as long, as a world can do; as a pattern, of a mind most rarely compounded, between perfect Christian piety, and undaunted incomparable magnanimity.  
But whilst the 
(k) This Lady died in the year 1611. and was buried on the 21. of October in the Theatines Church at Sant Andrea della valle; where she erected ten masses to be said every day, for ever. She was of the house of the Dukes of Cesi; and sister to the marquis of Riano; her name was la Signo a Flaminia.  Mother, and the Son, are both of them resting now in peace, and glory, as we may piously believe; I know not how, in this particular, to be silent, concerning the powerful, and wise, and infinitely good 
(l) The providence of God, deserveth to be deeply pondered, in this particular.  providence, of Almighty God, towards both these servants of his. For, by the way of the 
(m) The Cross is the high way to heaven.  Cross, he brought the son, in a few moments of time, to have a soul in state of great perfection; and he gave him, in the last hours of his life, that most happy kind of Purgatory, wherein he might not only suffer, in satisfaction of the divine justice, but pass on by merits, (all grounded upon the mercy of jesus Christ our 
(n) No action of man is meritorious, but by the merits and first mercy of jesus Christ our Lord.  Lord (as all merits are) towards instant, and eternal felicity.  
And this he did, by as contrary means, as in the Gospel he cured a certain Blind man, by 
(o) The omnipotency of God, is not tied to means, but works his will, how he will.  casting dirt upon his eyes. For here be used, the most indulgent tender care of the mother, who loved that Son, as her own soul; towards the bringing that about, which was indeed, to make him happy in the end; but in the mean time, was the occasion of his sudden, and reproachful death, whereby her very heart was to be broken. Taking him so from her sight, that so she might enjoy a glorious sight of him for ever; & depriving her of all humane comforts (which (for as much as concerned her) were abridged, & locked up in him alone) that so she might, with contempt of the world, send her whole heart up to heaven, whither now her treasure was gone before; and so be rewarded, for that tender and entire care, which she had taken, for his pious education.  
It 
(p) The blind & blockeheaded discourse of worldly men.  matters not much, what the blind, and dull world conceives; which placing faith in fancy; and religious reason in the treacherous sense of flesh and blood; thinks all that to be misery, which carrieth the face of pain, or shame, or any difficulty; and that true happiness consists in rowing for a while in some boat 
(q) A fit emblem to show the vanity of worldly pleasure.  of music, down the tide; though it carry them soon after, where they are either to be split upon rocks, or swallowed up by quicksands. Whereas God knows (yea & men whohave his grace, are not ignoranr thereof) that a course of felicity, not interrupted, or checked by contrary winds, is a kind of fortune (for as much as concerneth the next life) which in this, deserveth rather pity, than envy; and that, ever since the death of jesus Christ our Lord, the way of the Cross, is 
(r) The cross of Christ our Lord, hath made misery, to become happy.  not only the more safe, but even the more honourable; and that the pleasures, and pastimes of this life, are but a kind of butterfly, for boys to play withal; & that the greatest earthly felicity, that ever was enjoyed by man, if it died not as soon as it was borne (which yet is the ornary case of 
(s) Worldly pleasure speaks fair, but it lies.  worldly pleasure) at least, if it lived till it could learn to speak, it told as many lies, as it uttered words; and charmed them first, whom quickly after, it might lead towards a precipice.  
How desolate, would a worldling think, that the case of Signior Troylo Sauelli was, in that night when he received the news of his so instantly approaching, contumelious death? And of that dear Mother of his, when she heard the blow was given, which parted that head from those shoulders? And 
(t) Affliction, made the Mother, & the Son, seem miserable; and be happy.  yet with all, is it both well known, that the Mother's loss of such a son, did cast her much more close, upon an union and sole dependence for all her comfort, upon Almighty God; (wherein the happiness, which we can have in this life consists) and it is morally certain, that the abundant grace of Contrition, and Charity, which God infused into the heart of the Son, even by the occasion of his very sins (so vastly & infinitely good is God) did put him instantly, after his death, into a state so blessed, as that the Pope himself, under whom he died, and those Princes amongst whom he lived, and all the Monarches of the whole world, may be accounted to have been miserable, according to their present state, in respect of him. Our dear Lord jesus, be eternally thanked (& not only by us, who know not how to do it well, but by all his holy Angels, and Saints) for his own infinite goodness; since he vouchsafes to 
(u) He could easily honour himself otherwise, without any benefit to us, if he were so pleased.  place the point of his Honour, in showing mercies, and working wonders upon man, so instantly, so sweetly, so powerfully, and so like a God. And for having suffered, in his own sacred soul, & body, such desolations, and torments, as obtained, at the hands of the eternal Father, not only the remission of our sins, (if we will serve ourselves of the Sacraments, and other remedies which he hath left in the bosom of his holy Catholic Church) but the adorning also of our souls, with the inherent gifts, and graces of the holy Ghost. And yet further, for that he hath known, how to make our very sins, and grievous crimes themselves, the means, some times, whereby we obtain greater graces, than 
(x) This indeed is a mercy, which may well become the greatness of our God.  we should have done, if we had not committed those very sins. Let the whole world therefore adore thee, O Lord, and sing praises to thee; and let all the powers of all souls cry out, and say with that holy King, and Prophet David, O Lord who is like to thee?  
A great example, and proof of this power of God, and of the divinity of Christ our Lord, and the unspeakable bounty of the Holy Ghost was the so speedy illuminating, & inflaming the soul of this Baron. Who, as soon as he received the notice of his death, did, in his proportion, follow the example of the Blessed Apostle. For as he, to Christ our Lord, appearing said, O Lord, what wilt thou have me do; so did this noble Cavalliere of Christ, when the Priest, & Lieutenant of God spoke to him, give himself away by these words, as the Relation showeth; Do 
(y) The instant quiet resignation of this Baron to the good will of God.  you, in the place of God command me, I give myself, as bound into your hands; and further it affirmeth, that he suffered himself to be managed, as if he had been made, of the softest wax.  
It is not impossible for a man to meet with some Roaring Boy, who may think that the Baron was to submiss. But it is one thing to be a Roarer of the damned Crew, and another to be an humble member of the body of Christ; who assured us, by his own sacred mouth, That 
(z) Humility is the true badge, of true Christianity.  unless we became as children, we should never enter into the kingdom of heaven. The world was lost by the pride, and presumption of the first Adam; & repaired by the humility of the second. And 
(a) The incomparable humility of jesus Christ our Lord.  he that considers well, how great that Humility was; and whose it was; and for whose sake, and at the will of whom, he exercised the fame; had need of a great proportion of stupidity, to make him think, that, since God himself vouchsafed to be at the command of those base and impure wretches, who took of his , and required him to submit himself to those scourges, those thorns, those nails, those blasphemies, for our sakes, and sins; yet, on the other side, this 
(b) An ugly and abominable presumption.  man, this proud rebellious worm, this crumb of dust, this drop of filth; might keep, forsooth, a kind of State, and should not rather submit himself (in imitation of the humility of Christ our Lord) not only to Superiors, but to equals, and even inferiors also, and in fine to all 
(c) This is the advice of S. Peter; Subdits estote omni creaturae.  the world when just occasion should be offered.  
The soul of this noble Man, was so well softened, & sweetened, by the unction of the Holy Ghost; as that neither the greatness of his Nobility, nor the ardour of his youth, nor the natural boiling courage of his heart, nor the fresh memory of his prosperity, nor the unexpected arrival of his mifery, could make 
(d) A heart which is truly touched by God's holy spirit, will overcome strange difficultyes.  him once repine, or keep him from instantly abasing himself. But falling deeply upon the consideration of his sins; and weighing duly how full of demerit he was, in the sight of God; and knowing exactly, that nothing is so truly ignoble, as a soul which hath forfeited his grace; and that rich, or poor, is little to the purpose; but 
(c) wherein eternal, true Nobility doth consist.  that the thing which imports, is to be, or not to be, the servant, or son of God; it is not strange, to see him cast himself at the feet of common soldiers; and to stretch out his hands, with such meekness, at the will of the meanest laylours, for the love of our Lord, to signify thereby the detestation wherein he had himself, for having so presumptuously offended, that Eternal Majesty, which by all the Angels is adored.  
From 
(f) The reasons why he was so frequent in confessing his sins.  hence also did it proceed, that he so frequently confessed himself, in that last night of his life; & could never think that he had sufficiently deplored his errors, and detested the discorrespondence, and ingratitude, wherewith he had answered, the unspeakable benefits, of Almighty God. Wherein if any man should think, that he did use excess; it willbe much more lawful for me to doubt, that himself, either hath a mean conceit of the Infinite Majesty which is offended; or an ignorant apprehension, of the deformity of all sin which is committed; or a proud, & paltry mistaking, of the Nothing which man was, till he was created; and the worse than Nothing, which afterward he grew, by sinning. For 
(g) If you weigh these things well, you will change your wondering at him, into wondering at yourself.  he that ponders these particulars, as he ought; and knoweth, that the offences into which he falleth are innumerable; and that the least of them, which is committed against an infinite Majesty, in respect of the object, is also infinite; and that, as no one good deed shallbe unrewarded, by the rich Mercy of God, in Christ our Lord; so no one transgression shall be left unpunished, by his exquisite justice; will easily believe, that in the space of a night, it is hard for one to be too curious, & too careful, in setting strait the account of his whole life, under the piercing eye of Almighty God. But this Baron, did, even by moments, in that short time which was left, by the goodness of God, acquire new 
(h) Great light of God is wont to breed great love of him, & great sorrow, for having so shamefully offended him.  light, & gain new love of our Lord, and new contempt, & detestation of himself; and in the strength thereof, he found some actions to confess, which he had not conceived to be sins before; & others which he had confessed, he had confessed with a sorrow, far inferior, to that which then he felt.  
For abstracting from the consideration which he had of his sins, against God (in respect whereof, no soul is sufficiently able to quake, and tremble under him) I trust there is not a reader's eye in the world so dim, as not to discern his undaunted heart. And 
(i) The undaunted courage of this Baron.  that, no thought of death, had any power, to take the least clarity from his understanding; the least presence from his memory; the least agility from his wit; the least order from his speech; or so much as the least puntillio, from the civil respects and complements, which are used amongst persons of his Nation, and Condition. Nor yet, on the other side, shall any man have reason to think, that the punctuality, which (throughout the process of this Relation) he shall find to have been observed by the Baron, in this last 
(k) This courtesy & compliment was not affected, but free and natural.  kind of courtesy, did proceed from the least affectation thereof. Perhaps, if we look near home, we may find some example to have been given of this, not long ago; but in the present case, no suspicion of it, can be entertained; both for many other reasons, which will occur to him that readeth the Relation; and because (as I said before) these exact terms of Honour, and other respects to the company, which then is present, are is it were natural to men of his country, and quality; and there would cost them more pains, to omit them (unless their minds were put into disorder, by some passion) than it would cost others, to observe them, where they were not so natural, as being learned by industry, and art. But yet, that in so sad a case, this man, would, for good manners, forbear to set up his legs; or would not so much, as stretch himself in the sight of others, though his body did much incline him to it (according to that mention which the Relation makes thereof) may well go for a great argument in him, of civility, of modesty, and of magnanimity.  
And this is that which I thought fit to represent to you, by way of Preface, to this Story. You will find the traces & footsteps of putting men to death, and of the proceeding which is held with 
(l) The several manners, of treating delinquents in soveral countries.  delinquents, to be very different, from that of our Country, both concerning the body, and the soul. I take not upon me, to say which are better, and which are worse. With us, the Process of criminal persons, is ever made, in the face of the world; but they are not suffered to have any advocates who may defend their causes. In most other Countries, the delinquents are permitted to have Advocates, but the Process is made, though in public Court, yet only in presence of the judges and some few Advocates, and Officers. With us, the delinquents are suffered to live some days after their comdemnation; which certainly is meant in compassion to them; in other parts, after they are judged to dye, and that so it is declared, they think they do men a greater courtesy, in putting them quickly out of pain. With us, there is no difference in the manner of death, between a Clown, & the best Gentleman of the Kingdom, under the degree of a Baron, unless it be, in some very rare case, by most particular favour of his Majesty; but in all other places, that I have seen, all Gentlemen are beheaded, to distinguish them, from such as are ignoble. With us, no indignity is ever done to a Noble man of 
(m) such as Barons are, and all above them.  Title, by binding of his hands, or arms, or the like; and that custom I commend, as full of Honour; but in many other places, they bear no such respects; in regard of the experience which they have found, and I fear, which still they are in, of insolences.  
But for as much, as concerns the comfort of criminals, in the preparation of their souls, towards the death of their bodies, I cannot but note it, as a point of charity, and piety most 
(n) It is the greatest charity, to help men to dye well.  remarkable, that in very many of the good towns of Italy and Spain, there are certain Companies, or Confraternities, of Gentlemen, well borne and bred; who put this obligation of duty upon themselves, to visit the prisons, especially in the night precedent to any execution. And, together with Religious persons, and Ghostly Fathers, they watch, and pray, and exhort, and comfort the poorest criminals of the Country, with the same industry, & charity, which is here, afforded to this Noble man. And they accompany them all, to their death; and sometimes, they discharge their dying hearts of care; either by undertaking to pay some of their debts, or by assisting the poor wife, and children, which are left behind; or by obliging themselves, to get 
(o) S. Monies upon the point of her death, desired S. Augustine her Son, that he would pray for her soul at the altar, when she should be dead: and so he did. Vide August. Confess. l. 9 cap. 11●. & 13.  Masses celebrated for their souls. And in conformity of these good endeavours, we see men dye in those parts, with another manner of disposition towards God, then usually they have with us. Where it is a lamentable thing, to see many of so profane stupidity, that after lives most lewdly lead, they go either drunk, or dancing to the gallows. As if, they were but to dye in a play; or as if, after this life, there were no immortality of the soul; or else, at least, no account to be rendered, I say not, of idle words (which yet must be done) but of most wicked deeds, whereof many of them are guilty.  
The example which here we have in hand, will read, to all the Readers of it in general, a good lesson of humility, patience, courtesy, magnanimity, obedience, and charity. And 
(p) All kind of people may profit, by the good lessons which are here delivered.  it may serve for an instruction, not only to such as dye, by the hand of human justice; but to all them also, who are to dye by the hand of God, as we all shallbe sure enough to do. That so, we may the better take heed of sin, which is to be so bitterly bewailed; and the more deeply we be fallen into it, the more instantly we must implore the mercy, & goodness of Almighty God; and dispose ourselves to the doing of penance; that so, by his favour, we may secure our souls, from the danger of being plunged, into that lake of eternal pain. This lesson I say, may reach to all Readers in general. But particular Readers may   

friend, 
(f) The early, & humble resignation of this Noble man.  saith he, behold, I am here, ready to obey thy will, and the will of all the world, since the will of God is such. Having manacled him, they 
(g) By this time others were come in.  lead him towards the Chapel; when, at the issue out of his chamber, he blessed 
(h) He armed himself with the sign of the holy Cross Ad omnem actum, ad omnem ntcessum manus ping. at Crucem: At every action, and in every motion let thy hand make the sign of the Cross, D. Hier. epist. ad Eustoch, 22. cap. 16.  himself, the best he could with the sign of the holy Cross, with both his hands; and casting up his eyes to heaven, he profoundly sighed. For, seeing perhaps, that there was more people, then might beneedful for the changing of his lodging, This, saith he, is another manner of business, then to change me only, from one place to another; but by the grace of God, I am ready for all.  
Thus, filently going down to the Chapel, he was met by the 
(i) There are Congregations of Gentlemen in Rome (as there are also in other great Cities of Italy & Spain) who employ themselves for the helping of condemned men, to dye, will. The Governor and Broveditore are chief officers of these Congregations.  Governor, & the Proveditore, and by three others of them, who are called Confortatori della misericordia, in a fashion, very suitable to the occasion. Then one of them said to him in this manner: My Lord, the hour which God hath prefixed for you, is even run out; render yourself into his merciful hands. And he, without being troubled, otherwise, then by fetching a sigh (which yet was both soft, & short) did answer thus; Let God be blessed; behold I render myself to him; and dispose you of me And so those good and charitable Brothers of that Congregation, with some Fathers of the Society of jesus, casting themselues round about him; and endeavouring to sweeten the bitterness of that news, by discreet & decent means, did comfort him the best they could. He yielded to all, & did even prevent them; & then, knocking his breast, and bowing down his head, and kissing the Crucifix, he demanded pardon, and like gentle wax, did suffer himself to be managed by them all.  
One of those Confortatori, did, before all other things, put him in mind of making his Confession. Upon the very first naming whereof (recollecting himself) he said, And 
(k) The first thing he did, was to confess himself.  where is the Confessor? And they showing him a Priest of their Company, with his Albe 
(l) These are some of the sacerdotal vestments which are used in the celebrating of Mass.  upon his back, and his Stole about his neck (that afterward he might say Mass, in the proper time) the first thing he did, was to be confessed; and we all went out, to leave the place free to them.  
He being confessed, and we returned, we began to dispose him, towards a good end, by diverse spiritual exercises, fit for that purpose. And after many had spoken, I also began thus to say; Signior Troilo, This is that passage, which whosoever doth once make well, doth acquire eternal felicity; & if once it be ill made, it draweth after it, an everlasting misery. It now imports your Lordship to make it well, that you may escape that eternity of torment. This passage is narrow, uneven, hard, & full of stones, and thorns; all the world doth see it, and your Lordship finds it by experience; but 
(m) Our Lord jesus, doth even, the uneven way of death.  behold sweet jesus, who, by his goodness, will even it all. Cast yourself, my Lord, upon him; and than you will be able to say with courage, Omnia 
(n) I can do all things in him that comforts me.  possum, in eo qui me confortat.  
He answered thus, with a cheerful, and even smiling countenance, Omnia possum in eo qui me comfortat. By the mercy of my dear jesus, I know the necessity of making this passage well; I acknowledge his providence over me, and to his providence I add, that, of his jove. Ror as much as with extraordinary love it is, that he hath brought me hither. I see it, I confess it. And how often, dear Father, have I been, as I may say, in the very jaws of death; which if at that time it had seized upon me, infallibly this soul, and body of mine had perished. Behold 
(o) He acknowledgeth, and accepteth of God's providence, with great alacrity.  the cunning of my Christ; to save me, he hath made choice of this way. And then bowing, & bearing his head, and with great life of spirit, raising himself from his chair, he further added; I accept of this election, which God hath made; & then casting himself upon his knees, before the Altar, Nay I thank thee (saith he) O my good Father, for thy so faithful, and loving care of me; who have not only been a wand'ring, but a contumacious Son of thine. To thee it doth belong, to smooth and even the ruggedness of this way; since thou hast been pleased to address me by it. And so, bowing his face even almost down to the ground, he remained a while, in men●all Prayer.  
Being therefore wished to sit down, he was scarce settled in that posture, when turning towards me, he said thus, in mine ear: You, whom through my good fortune, I have here, to help me, in this so weighty and high affair, in the place of God do you command me. I 
(p) He giveth himself away to his Ghostly Father.  give myself, as bound into your hands. The Prince hath disposed of my body; do you as much with my soul. I said therefore to him: I first desire, my Lord, that you make the protestation 
(q) This is a declaration of his faith with an entiere submission to the good will of God.  which is wont to be delivered by such as are going to God. Which being publicly pronounced by him, with great sense and spirit, (he taking up & repeating my words) I advised him further thus: You shall now make all those acts of Contrition, which I shall call to your mind; having the eyes thereof, first bend upon God, being offended, as a Creator, as a Preserver, as a justifier, and as a Glorifier. Next, upon yourself, who have offended him; being his creature, his household servant, his Christian slave; and one so deeply obliged, by his benefits. Thirdly, upon the offences themselves which you have committed; and be sorry at your heart, for having committed them; and 
(r) For who can ever call to mind all his particular sins.  if not in particular for them all, at least for the 
(h) He had already confessed his sin; & now he is but exhorted to renew his sorrow for them:  most grievous of them, which shall represent themselues to your memory. Fourthly, upon the good which you have omitted; & the time which you have lost; and the years that you have misspent. Fiftly, upon the scandal which you have given. And if any thing more be to be done; if 
(t) We cannot be saved unless first we make restitution, as well of fame, as of goods if it lie in our power.  to make restitution, either of fame, or goods; if to pardon others, or to ask pardon yourself; restore, and pardon, and ask pardon. If to perform any vows, or fulfil any promises, perform, and fulfil them. Or finally, if you leave any debts, or if you will make any signification of your repentance, and pious end, you are now to put your hand to work.  
To these things he offered himself most readily; and did execute them all, with so great devotion, that every one now began, to change his style, in speaking to him. And finding, that whereas before, they thought they should have to do but with a young man, or rather but with a youth, and weakling, 
(u) He infinitely overcame their expectation.  they were now to treat, with a manly, generous, and ripe Christian (far superior to that, which might peradventure have been expected of him) one of the Confortatori, began with great discretion, to discourse upon the horror of Death, which our most sweet Christ jesus, did by his agony dispossess of bitterness. Confide, saith he, and cast your thoughts upon him, and say, Pone 
(x) Place me, O Lord, near to thee, & let the hand of any other fight against me.  me Domine iuxta te, & cuiusuis manus pugnet contra me. And if now you find any bitter taste in death in this short night, as without fail you will, say, Pater 
(y) O my Father, not as I will, but as thou wilt thy will be done.  mi, non sicut ego; volo, sed sicut tu, fiat voluntas tua.  
The contrite Lord, made answer thus, The wickedness of my life doth fright, me, more, than the bitterness of my death O how wretchedly have I spent these eighteen years? How ill have I understood my Saviour? How ungrateful have I been for his noble favours? How rebelliously have I lived against his laws? And now have I run like a wild, unbridled horse, in these later years of mine; without any manner of restraint, wheresoever the present occasions, or conversations, or 
(z) The sinner; is only to blame himself for having sinned.  rather (for I have said ill) wheresoever mine own passions, and blind affections, had a mind to plunge me? It is I, and none but I, who did precipitate me; and yet you bid me fix my thoughts, and hopes upon God; and say, Pone me Domine iuxtate, & cuiusuis manus pugnet contra me, fiat voluntas tua.  
Upon this, another of the Confortatori, did thus proceed. It is an act of magnanimity, not to fear the angry face of death; & of humility, to acknowledge our offences; but of confidence, to hope for pardon, as your Lordship doth; who well may say, Propter nome tuum Domine, propitiaberis peccato meo, muitum est enim. For thy name's sake O Lord thou shalt forgive my sin, for it is great. O how great, said Signior Troilo? Even as great, after a manner, as is the mercy of God, which is immense.  
The Proveditere then said; Your Lordship, may, if you so be pleased, make your last Will, and Testament; to the end that no other thought may solicit you, but of your soul alone.  
Hereupon the Baron, without the least delay, by way of answer, did bid them write. And having taken out of his pocket, a little note, which he carried about him, he did suddenly dictate his Testament; wherein he delivered some particulars, which, in my opinion, are very considerable. First, 
(a) The considerations which may be made, upon the manner of penning his will.  of tender Devotion; for he recommended his soul to God, by most dear, and religious words. Secondly, of Ripeness, which was more than of a young man; because, in a most particular manner, he had remembrance of all his servants. Thirdly, of a most lively Contrition; because, with a most profound, internal affection of mind, he demanded pardon of many, even by name. Fourthly, of great Magnanimity; because he conjured the Lady his Mother, that she would pardon all his adversary's, as he himself did pardon them a thousand times over. Beseeching 
(b) what a true, and noble Christian heart was this?  her, by a long, and christian circuit of words, that she would never resent his death; but he laid the fault upon himself, in all things. Fiftly, of Religious Piety; leaving large alms to many Churches, & other holy places; accommodating many poor 
(c) This is a devotion, and charity, much used in Italy.  Virgins, with dowries, at the particular discretion, and to be performed by the care of his heirs; that God might the rather have mercy on him. Sixtly, of entiere justice; because he took care, that even more than was due by him, should be restored. Seaventhly, of noble Gratitude; because he rewarded, whosoever had done him any service in prison. Eightly, of affectuous Reverence; because he did in a most sweet, and dear manner, ask pardon; of the Lady his Mother, & of the rest of his kindred, besides the expressing of other compliments.  
Having ended his last Will, Well Sirs (saith he) behold we have this residue of time, now wholly free, for the care of our soul. And turning towards me, he said, It 
(d) He speaks of his soul, for as much as concerned the guiding of it, under God.  is in your hand, and therefore dispose of it; for this only is now, in my power to give you. I then, by way of answer said, Give yourself, my Lord, to JESUS. I do so, said he; and he said it instantly. And I again, Give yourself wholly to him. He said, I do. Consecrate yourself; he still said, I do. Make yourself, said I, entirely his. But how (saith he) O Father, shall I make myself entirely his, if I be unworthy, and if perhaps, I be an enemy 
(e) As all grievous sinners are, if they do not throughly repent, which no man can be sure that he hath sufficiently done, though he may have great hope thereof.  of his. But in the mean time, whilst the Will was in writing, he that wrote it, put us in mind, that it was to be publicly read; that so it might be shut up, with a due 
(f) A restament, is not valide there, if it have not seven witnesses at the least.  number of witnesses. And whilst this was in doing, that is, whilst the Notary was reading of it; three things of some consideration did occur. The first, that when he read how he recommended his soul to God, My body (saith he, (drawing near me, according to his custom) I dispose not of; for now, it is no longer mine. It once was mine, and I would it had not been so; but 
(g) He acknowledgeth the providence, and justice of God, in all things  it is more than reason, that I having had so great care of it, in my life time, for my punishment, should not be suffered, to have any power over it, now in my death. Let them therefore do with it what they will; for I sacrifice it to God whatsoever it, be. Father, will not such an oblation as this, do me good? It will, said I; without doubt it will; and what 
(h) For he that gives his body, doth show in good earnest, that he hath already given his soul.  more acceptable oblation, can be made to our Lord, then that of the body? The second, That when the Legacies were read; it being observed, by the manner of expressing one of them, that he delivered himself as faulty, in a certain thing, wherein indeed he was not so; and therefore the Will was to be redressed, as I desired, which served not only, (as before) for securing of his conscience, but for the saving also of his honour. Upon this, putting off his Montiera, or cap, O Father, saith he (and he did it half smiling) are you now taking care of my reputation, and of the puntillios of Honour, and of that smoke or vanity of the world? Let my soul be saved, & let all the vain Honour perish, which I either had, or might have had. Do you not remember that which even 
(i) This is not mentioned here before; but he said also many other things which are not mentioned in this short Relation.  now you said, Mihi mundus: 
(k) The world is crucified to me, and I to it.  crucifixus est, & ego mundo. In a word, let not the soul be touched, but let my Honour be blasted, according to that account, which the blind world is wont to make of Honour; that it may serve as a part of the punishment, which is due to me. The third, that at the same instant, his hat was brought him; and one of his people, being desirous to take his Montiera from off his head, what are you doing saith he? They answered, they would give him his hat. But he bade them let it alone, saying, That it imported not; and he added, with a soft voice▪ Look here a while; they would fain honour this head of mine, which I am to lose, within few hours, for my sins.  
The Will being then read, and shut; he throwing himself, as it were upon me, with a most modest kind of sweetness, said, Father I am already reconciled; but I would fain make a general Confession of my whole life, to your Reverence. And although, since I came into prison, I did the same, in effect, at the instance of my Lady, my Mother; yet know, that I had then no light, or feeling of my sins, in respect of that, which now I discover in my heart. For, One thing it is, dear Father, for a man to confess himself, when he is in the sight of death; and another, to do it not thinking of death; or at least, but considering it, as a far off. And so, calling for a 
(l) There are every where to be had little books, of address, whereby men are taught how to confess their sins exactly.  little book, which he had above in the prison (showing a man the way, how to confess his sins, exactly well (which his good MOTHER had ●rought to him some days ●efore) he began his confession. Wherein, my Lord God ●oth know, that, as it is lawful for me, by that most ●mple authority, which himself gave me, to declare as much thereof, as I should think fit; so if I were able to express it, I say not, that Rome would be astonished at it, but all Italy would be so. For if I speak of the exact manner that he held; for as much as concerned the particular descending even to idle words, an● any other 
(m) Confession is no such cursory or superficial thing, as they which know it not, conceive, & say.  such littl● thing, me thought I wa● hearing some well exercise● Religious man. In the explicating of circumstances● and the unfolding of intricate and entangled cases, i● was, as if he had been some profound Divine. In relating the determinate number, & the various kinds of his sins; he made proof of one, who had a most fresh, and happy memory.  
This rare Gentleman pausing now and then, between the Confession of his sins; and suffering certain tears to fall quietly upon my knees, he would be wiping them away; and that being done, he would often use to say with sighs; O Father, how 
(n) He had great reason to say so.  good hath our Lord been to me? Let him now be blessed, as often, and yet more often, than I have offended him, in my former life. Why lest he was accusing himself of his faults, he would express them, in certain few, but they, all lively, and most pious words; and in some particular cases so dear tender; that, in his countenance, one might see evident signs, of how his very heart, was even rend, within. So that between 
(o) He paused sometimes between both to resthimselfe, & to recall his sins, more freshly to his memory: for though it were interrupted, it was all but one Confession, till the Absolution were given.  the times of his confession, the Confortatori, (doubting lest perhaps he might grow to faint) would be ask him if he needed not somewhat to restore, & comfort himself. To which he answered (speaking privately, & more than once to me) This 
(p) An admirable Contrition.  only comfort, or restorative I would desire; That my very heart might burst for grief; and satisfaction might so be 
(q) To the justice of God; his sorrow being dignified by the death & passion, of jesus Christ, our Lord.  given, for my sins, if perhaps even that, would serve the turn.  
But for as much as, to my thincking, he did melt as it were by so enlardging himself in his Confession, I had an eye upon him, and I ventured to say thus unto him. My dear Signior Troilo, be not so excessively curious, and particular, in accusing yourself; especially of those your former sins, which lie not now upon your soul. O 
(r) See how truly this heart was touched with sorrow for his sins; and the knowledge of himself  Father. (said he) I have wasted my whole life, in offending God; and will you have me, or shall I content myself, in one single hour, to demand pardon of so many offences? So long in sinning, and so short in confessing my sins? That I am trouble some to you, my dear Father, I well discover; but what can I do withal, if I be forced to it? And here again, he began to make for himself, a very bath of tears. And interpreting what I had said, after his own conceit, he added, with tears redoubled, And this also do my sins deserve, by way of punishment, that having cast so much, and so much time away, in prejudice of my salvation, I should now want time, wherein I might even confess my sins▪ Pardon me, dear Father, and endure this trouble for the love of God; for you shall 
(s) To do a good work by the grace, & for the love of God, is meritorious; for so Christ our Lord hath made it.  merit, in his sight, by helping this poor soul of mine, towards salvation; & I will remain with obligation to you, when I shall go by the mercy of God & your good means, into the place of rest. And finding that still he grew in tears, I confess my weakness, for I was not able to contain myself, from expressing also tenderness, by tears.  
As soon as he perceived this, he said; Father, your Reverence weeps, and yet you weep not for yourself, but for me; and yet you will not have me weep, for myself. But then, both of us being silent for a time, he after, began again to confess, with those accustomed short words, but full of substance, and propriety; making me write down all those things, which he confided to me, for the discharge of his conscience. Whilst I was writing, he would needs for his contentment hold the Standish, in his own hands; and read those lines, when I had done; and kiss them, and then bathe them in tears.  
But of nothing did he accuse himself so much, as of all that, which had any relation to the Lady, his Mother. Nor am I able by any means to express, with what abundance of tears, he accompanied those accusations of himself. For, beginning even from his very Infancy, Father (saith he) I 
(t) A large expression of the unspeakable grief he had, for his disobedience and in gratitude to the Lady his mother.  have committed many offences against God; yet at this time, me thinks, I am not so much afflicted for any thing, as for not having known, how to serve myself, of that tender love, and prudence, and patience, which my Lady my Mother, expressed, in the education of me. For even when I was yet a child, she gave me in charge, to certain learned and religious Preceptours; who till I arrived to have sixteen years of age, did with great fidelity, and sufficiency, teach me, not only the literature of Humanity, but Philosophy also. And so did they further show, how I was to address myself towards piety, by their good example, and advice. Nor yet content with this; how solicitous was she also, to procure by many other means, that I might proceed, both in Learning, and Virtue? For 
(u) See here the Image, of a holy and tender-hearted mother.  concerning that of. Learning, she gave me store of books, of time, of opportunity, and a thousand tender favours she did me, which were convenient for those years of mine. And for the inducing me to Virtue, she addressed me to choice of good Conversations, spiritual Discourses, excellent Sermons, and Persons, who might from time to time give me counsel. Commanding me, and causing me to be lead to Confession; not only upon all the principal Feasts of the year, but once moreover every month.  
And, till this very time, when I am speaking to your Reverence, you may, if you will take the pains, find among my papers, most evident testimonies of what now I am saying; and especially 
(x) Note the diligences which this holy mother did use, for the pious education of her son.  a short manner of Instruction, how to spend the whole day, well. The things beside whereof she did admonish me, were in a manner, infinite. When I was yet a little one, she kept me in bridle, by threats, yea and by strokes sometimes; and when I was grown elder, she endeavoured to do it, by the fair means, of requests, and promises; and oftentimes, with so many tears, as that now, they are as many lances to pass through my heart. For this, did she procure that 
(y) Blessed Philippo Nerio, was his Godfather, at Confirmation. The Chiesa Nova was a new Church, wherein God was served by him and his. I do not ordinarily translate these names, out of Italian, because they are proper, either to persons, or places.  blessed man Philippo, of the Chiesa nova to assist, and hold me, when I was confirmed; and that afward I should make particular friendship with him.  
She kept me far off from looking upon ill examples; and held me near herself, after the manner, as I may say, of a Religious life; exhorting me often, day and night, that I would live Nobly, 
(z) True Christianity, is true Nobility.  and like a Christian. Nor did that blessed mouth of hers, ever cease to say, Troilo, my Son, fear God, & love God. For this did she take upon her, the government of all my 
(a) Castilia in Itálian, doth signify both the mansion house, and the Town, or village belonging to it.  Castles; and the care of all my affairs; living in a continual state, of between hope, and fear, of the proof that I would made. Nor was there a Religious House, or Monastery, to the prayers whereof, she recommended me not Nor came there any Religious persons to her, nor did she meet with any abroad, to whom, all forgettefull of herself, she would not say, Pray 
(b) Some body prayed so well for him, as to make him a Saint.  for my Son.  
And I, ungrateful to her so great labours, when I grew to have sixteen years of age, did render her, so ill payment, for such a huge sum of love; as that I even parted house with her; & did outrage her, both by words, and deeds; in such sort, as that the uttermost of all punishment, seemeth a hundred times less to me, than my demerit. And when, dear Father, I think upon the tears with she was ever shedding for me, both by day, and in those nights, so sadly spent; and on the agonies which she suffered upon my occasion, I find contentment, in that I am to dye; whereby, me thinks, I grow, in part, to overshaddowe, so many of my lewd behaviours.  
Neither 
(c) The invincible love of this Mother, to her Son.  yet, after I had separated myself from her, did she give over to solicit me with notes, and letters, and messages, and a thousand other inventions, that I would be induced to retire myself from vicious conversations; and she would pray me, & importune me, & conjure me, that I would take to good. And well I know, that no kind of devotion was omitted by her, for my reformation, both by visiting as many Churches, and Religious persons, as she knew in Rome.  
And in fine, she came often to me, both by day and night, whilst I was wandering up and down in such company; and 
(d) It seems to have been a kind of strife & war, between how kind, a Mother could tell how to be, and how unkind a son.  when she found me out, she would cast herself, even at my feet, that so I might once be drawn to open mine eyes, and would consider the precipice that I was approaching to; and the ruins, besides the shame, that would inevitably come upon me; and that I would return to Christ; and that once, I would truly weigh (for these were her very words) whose Son I was; and that I would consider, what thing that was, which ever had been wanting to me, that so, in that desperate fashion, I should abandon all care of my Estate, of my Life, and of my Honour. And usually she accompanied these admonitions, and requests of hers, with most tender tears.  
Sometimes again, she would turn aside, and casting up he● eyes to God, she would besee●● him, either to convert me, o● else 
(e) Her prayer was hear● in a better, though in another manner, than she most desired.  to take me to himself. And this I can say with all truth, that even from the beginning, to this very hour, wherein now I live, she hath never ceased to procure my salvation. For even from the first time, that she 
(f) She was in Rome at his commitment, but when she saw how the world would go with him, she retired from thence, with her load of sorrow.  came to see me here in prison, she exhorted me to Confession, and ever since, she hath come, as thick as hail upon me, sometimes with Religious men, and sometimes with pious Books. So long, that now at last, I am by the favour of God, returned a little into myself. And besides the cutting off, of all occasions of doing i'll, she gave me many great opportunities of good; besides the exhortations, which she herself made to me, in most fervent manner, that I would restore myself, to the service of God.  
Nor could ever any Son desire any favour, or contentment of a Mother, which ours, did not, of herself, impart to me. And I, on the other side, have served, but to make her life most unfortunate, by this period of mine. I beseech our Lord forgive me, & to receive the future affliction of her heart, in present discount of my offences.  
Then towards the end of his Confession; I desire (said he) a favour of you now, dear Father, which you must not deny me. It is, that I may have liberty to lament my sins with tears; and that, by them, I may give testimony to the Divine Majesty, of the 
(g) That so the penitent himself by finding it, might have increase of comfort.  grief, wherewith my heart abounds within. Weep out, said I, since our Lord doth give you such a desire of weeping.  
I had scarce brought forth this last word, when already, there began to fall, a most abundant shower of tears from his eyes; in such sort, 
(h) An admirable and almost miraculous Contrition.  as that he bathed a good part of one of my arms; and my sleeve was as wet through, as if it had rained from above. Which accident I observing, after some half quarter of an hour; and doubting, lest his heart might so discharge itself by his eyes, rather for the apprehension which he might have of death, than otherwise; I desired, that for the love of jesus, he would quiet himself, & not multiply his affliction, nor continue to torment his mind, in that manner. To this he answered; Father, I give you my faith, that I do not, at all, be wail my death; but I do only, and purely, lament the offences, which I have committed against Almighty God. And 
(i) A happy conjunction of Christian sorrow, with noble coutage.  I have so much hope, in the mercy of my dear Lord, that not only I shall shed no tears, for my death; but not so much as change my countenance. Father, I bewail my most unfortunate life, and not my most happy death. That life was, indeed, most unfortunate; whereas this death, is most happy; for in fine, if in that, I lived an enemy to God, I hope, in this, I shall dye his friend.  
Well then, said I, proceed in your Confession, that so you may dye the friend of God; and lay, a part of your tears, aside, the while. Whereupon. The most obedient young Gentleman, accommodating himself to my direction, did just proceed, where he had left.  
At this I wondered so much the more; for as much as I myself had forgotten it, though I also had one of those little books in my hand, which instruct how a Confession may be well made. But he going on, did lay before me, (as if it had been in one single prospect) the whole course of his life; with so great clarity, and brevity, that I found my self, as obliged, to ask him, if during many days before, he had not applied himself to make such a preparation. To which the young Noble man made this very answer: So great is the light (as I have already insinuated) which my dear Lord jesus vouchsafes to give me at this instant, of my whole life, that even whilst I am confessing, me thinks I behold all my actions 
(k) This was a very extraordinary, supernatural favous of Almighty God.  as in a glass; and I read all my thoughts, and words, as in a book.  
And, without doubt, so it was. For he, without ever, mistaking a word, did so call all his sins to mind, that by that time he wanted little of having declared them all distinctly. Only at the very end, as it were, of his Confession, he returned to repeat some things which he had already said; and I doubting that he did so, as having forgotten what he had expressed before, I told him of that inaduertence (as I reputed it,) when yet he made me this answer: I know well, dear Father, that I repeat some things; but I do it, to the end that I may now more perfectly detest them, & be confounded in myself. And especially 
(l) How desirous this soul was, to make God amends.  since I have passed the greatest part of my life in such things as these, to the displeasure of our Lord, I do now for the better pleasing of him, pass this time of my death, in a misliking remembrance of the same. And if it be troublesome to your Reverence, as I know it is, so often to hear my so many offences; do you remember once for all, that this soul, is, of a sinner, for whom Christ died.  
Nay said I, if your Lordship, have any such apprehension, you may repeat as much, and as often as it pleaseth you; for I only advised you of it before, as thinking that perhaps you might have done it by error. The error (saith he) was mine, and a grievous error it was, to offend them so many ways, who did ever stand in my defence. But howsoever that be; in this respect, as in some others, I shall dye contented, in that I can never satisfy myself, with cofessing my faults to you, dear Father. Which now, by the goodness of God, are as well known by me, as heretofore they were little esteemed; & are now as bitterly lamented, as heretofore they gave me gust, though it were a false one. I 
(m) The man did even melt between grief & love.  wish, Othou most sweet Saviour of my soul, that I had, as well, a thousand tongues, that so I might fully confess them; a thousand eyes, that so, I might bitterly bewail them; and a thousand hearts, that so, eternally I might detest them. And that this grief for my sins, committed against God, might so break my heart▪ as the instrument of justice, will take my head, for them, which I have committed concerning men.  
I do, good Father, (by the goodness of God) know what a sinner I am. As a sinner, I lament myself, and as a sinner I will dye, but a sinner, all humbled, & contrite; and with my tears I will make my Funerals; then suffer me to perform them, after mine own fashion. And here cven I, not 
(n) I cannot blame him,  being able to contain myself from weeping, he observed it, and said thus. Most happy Funerals are therefore these of mine, which are solemnised by the servants of God. Yet this part belongs not to you, but only as being a Father to my soul. Who knows, but that by these mutual tears, and this exchange of tenderness, my impure conscience may indeed be cleansed? Thus both of us, being silent for a while, he then proceeded: Well, my good Father, it is now high time, that by the 
(o) This authority, was given to his true Church by jesus Christ our Lord; & in his name, & by his power, it is exercised.  Authority, which God hath given you, to lose, and bind men on earth, you lose me, from so many chains of sins, which hang upon me. To the en● that, as you have taught me, 〈◊〉 may say, Auditui meo dabi● gaudium & laetitiam, & exultabunt ossa humiliata 〈◊〉 And first do you give me Absolution, and then, I may perform my Penance. Though indeed what Penance, carrying proportion to my sins, is your Reverence able to impose. At this, he cast himself at my feet, and bowed his head to my knee, where I had laid my left hand; and he all bathed it with tears, and kissed it; and expected the Penance and Absolution. Which I gave him, fully, in form of a 
(p) This is an application of the superabundant merits of jesus Christ our Lord, to the souls which stand in need thereof.  Plenary jubiley, according to the most ample privileges, 
(q) By the Popes.  which are granted to them of that Congregation, which is called of the 
(r) It is called a congregation of Misericordia, because it is so great a work of charity & mercy whereupon they employ themselves.  Misericordia. Being absolved, and having done his Penance, with incredible affection of mind, he sat down again by my direction; and then, the rest did come, and circled him in round about, after the accustomed manner.  
I than spoke first to him after this sort: Most Illustrious Lord Troilo, our Blessed saviour JESUS Christ, whom here we have present, did, by dying upon the Cross, give remedy, in his person, this night, to three things, amongst many others. He 
(s) An application full of life & comfort.  died, in the flower, & vigour of his youth; that your Lordship, might not have too much tenderness, & compassion of your own tender youth, and so might say, O, but why is my life taken away in so tender years? And this is the first. He died, and he died of a violent death; that to your Lordship it might not seem insupportable, to dye upon necessity, and so you might say, O, but why is the flower of my years, cut off by a violent hand? and this is the second. He died of the most reproachful death, which in those times was inflicted; that it might not seem strange to your Lordship, to dye by the hand of justice, and so you might say, O, but why died not I in my cradle, or at least by some other natural accident?  
Nay, if your Lordship will accept this death, in so tender years, you offer him the best part of your tyme. By dying of a violent death, you may make that which is necessary, to be voluntary; and by dying of a dishonourable death, (taking it as a Penance for your sins) you may fly the shame, of that last terrible day. And so much the better, you may accept thereof, for that you are not to dye in public, upon the Bridge, as the ordinary Custom bears; but 
(t) It is there accounted of less dishonour, to be put privately to death. They who die privately, die within the Castle, they who publicly, at the foot of the Bridge.  privately here below, in the Court, as is wont to be used, towards your Peers. I added also some other considerations, & so ended my speech. To which the Baro, who was ever ready, made this answer.  
And 
(u) How wise, the grace of God, is able to make a very young man, upon a sudden.  I, O Father, for as much as concerns the first, die willingly in this fresh age of mine; because thus I shallbe sure not to offend my Lord, any more. And, from this instant, I offer him my years, my age, & my life; and a hundred years, and a hundred ages, and a hundred lives. As for the second; I will make a virtue of necessity; and being to dye perforce, and according to reason; I will dye willingly, that so I may yield willingly, unto force, & willingly give satisfaction to reason. But as for the third; I could wish for a more ignominious death. And be you pleased to know, that to have died in public, would have given me I know not what increase of consolation, & gust. For so I might have hoped by 
(x) Because public sins, require public satisfaction.  public Penance, to have made a better amendes, for my public crimes. And God doth know, that I take no contentment, to receive the favour of dying privately. But yet howsoever, if the determination which is made, be such; I resist it not. Our Lord will accept the promptitude of my wil  
Hereupon, the Proveditore took up the speech, and said: Let your Lordship accommodate itself, to the will, and providence of God; who hath not only one way, of arriving to save our souls, nor one only means of drawing them to him. He leadeth one by one means, and others by another. It importeth not that 
(y) Money of God's judgements are secret but they are all just.  his judgmentes be hidden from us, but it sufficeth that they are just. Who can tell, if your Lordship should have died in any other sort than this, whether or no, you should have been saved? I am he (saith the Baron) who can tell you that; for I should have tumbled headlong into hell.  
Do you not know how God hath proceeded with me? It is just as a Huntsman would do, when he would take a wild beast, but he would have him brought to his hand, whole, and sound; and not to be torn by the teeth or paws of dogs; nor strucken by the bow, nor bruised by nets, or snares. He drives this beast, sometimes one way, and sometimes another; but never lets slip the dogs, nor dischargeth the arrow; nor spreads he the net, or Toil upon the ground, or sets the snare; but, at the most, with some outcries, or else by throwing of some stones, he rouseth him, and addresseth him towards the place designed; & so long doth he drive the beast by several ways, that, at last, he brings him thither, where he would have him. The Huntsman knows this well; and did long expect him there; & he takes him, and enjoys him, all sound, and safe.  
I am 
(z) Note how wittily, and piously, he makes this application to himself.  he, O my Good jesus, who have been this beast, hunted hither, and thither; but thou hadst a mind, to have me safe; thou hadst a mind to have me sound. And so thou didst not permit, that I should be torn with dogs, nor pierced by arrow, nor taken by nets, or Toils, or snares; when thou deliveredst me out of so many dangers of death, in which, though very young, I have found myself; & wherein, if I had died, without fail, I had perished for all eternity. Thou didst only throw stones at me, and thou cried'st out after me, when by so many admonitions, and inspirations, thou didst solicit me. And now I repent myself, that I was so deaf to them. But what marvel, if I were deaf, who after a sort was 
(a) By sin  dead? And thus hath his goodness conducted me to this straight pace, without my knowing of it; that so I may be forced to leap into his lap. For whither am I able to turn myself more securely, then to my dear jesus? Yea, and yet, if I were able; I would not turn, any way but to him. It is true, that I am forced; but yet I am content withal.  
One of the Confortatori then replied: It is enough, Signior Troilo. So great, and so liberal, is the goodness of God, that he accepteth all, and he doth it with delight. And one of the Chiesa nuova said; That although our Lord received a Precept, or Commandment that he should dye; yet nevertheless it is affirmed, & it is true, that he died voluntarily. And having accompanied this speech of his, with diverse choice examples, one of our Fathers shut up that discourse, with showing, by what means, that which was necessary, 
(b) That punishment which is imposed by necessity, may be made voluntary, by a voluntary acceptation thereof.  might so grow to be voluntary, by a voluntary accepting of it: and, that so much more, it would be meritorious, as it should more willingly be embraced. Then teach me (said the Baron) how I may make this necessary death truly voluntary. And then certain devout, and apt ways how to do it, being declared, by the Governor of the Congregation of the Confortatori, and embraced by the Baron, I said; Perhaps Signior Troilo, we weary you to much. How can you weary me? said he. These discourses, make the night short to me, and they make my disaster, fortunate. And here, all were silent for a while; when he rising up (for he was sitting) said, That he would speak with the Father. And drawing near me, the 
(c) Whom the patiented, did accompany therein.  Confortatore said the Confiteor; &, that being ended, I desire (saith he) if it please you, Father, to call again to mind, some of the things v; both for the better repetition of them, & for the addition of some others. Which I refusing, out of the assurance I had, that it was not necessary, he said; And it is possible, dear Father, that you will not give me this last contentment? Will you not permit, at least, that I may satissiy myself, with confessing the offences, which I have committed against God? And beside, doth not your Reverence remember, that we must speak together of 
(d) The Father it seems had made him some such promise before.  penance? And I answered, Let that Penance be, to dye, and to dye well.  
Then teach me that, (said he.) And I, thus to him: Offer now, this death of yours, to God, with your whole heart, in penance, for the sins with you have committed. I do (saith he) offer it with my heart, and with my mouth; and it grieves me, (as our Lord doth know) that I have not, this night, a thousand heads, that in this one of mine, they might be all cut off, and a thousand lives, that they might all be lost. Nay 
(e) How much doth he give to God; & how little doth he think it to be: & yet how faithfully doth he acknowledge it all to be of God.  I confess, and know, that even that penance, would yet fall short; but since more I cannot, more I know not what to do; and since more I have not, I can give no more; and even the doing, and giving, of this little, do I acknowledge, to proceed from the hand of God.  
I told him, by the way of reply, that it was well; and that he should still be doing so. And when (said I) you are laying your head upon the block, say thus in your heart. O Lord, by this act of mine, I protest, to do penance for my sins, as if I had a thousand heads and a thousand lives; and I acknowledge, and confess, that it is all but little. But I doubt Signior Troilo, whether then, you will be able to remember this; for then perhaps you willbe, as it were, not yourself. It is no trifle to look death in the face, take my word for that. The magnanimous Lord made this answer. I will not presume so much upon myself, but I 
(f) He can never fail who putteth all confidence in God, & none in himself.  hope well, and confide greatly in God, that he will not let it fall out of my memory. And if, by many accident, you should perceive that I were unworthy of so great a grace, do me the favour to bring me in mind of it; for you shall find me ready to put it in execution. In the mean while, I beseech your Reverence tell me somewhat else towards this end of mine, and that quickly, for the time hath wings. I bade him leave the care of that to me. For I will (said I) go intimating from time to time, whatsoever you are to think upon; & whatsoever you shall be to say, even till your last breath.  
And 
(g) He exhorteth him to a great devotion to his good Angel.  very now, you shall begin to make a straight friendship with your Good Angel. And first ask pardon of him with your heart, for the little gratitude which you have expressed, for the Custody that he hath afforded you; which hath binso incessant, so patiented, so diligent, & so full of love. Upon which words, he said (casting himself upon his knees;) Yea, not only with my mouth, but with my heart, I beg pardon of him, for the much, and much ingratitude, which I have used, notwithstanding his so great benignity, and love to me; and so kissing my knee, he sat down again. So that I proceeded, and said: Consider then with yourself, that your 
(h) Saint Hierome saith expressly, That every soul hath an Augaius Custos assigned to it by Almighty God, from the first instance of the birth till the last of life. Vide Hier. lib. 3. conc. in 18. cap. Matt. The holy Scriptures and holy Fathers do also abound in proof of the ministry of Angella in the help of men.  good Angel now is here, who even from your very first beginning, when you were borne, & so much more at this hour, which is so full of danger, doth assist you, and especially, in six particulars. First, he hinders the impetuous assaults of the devil, and weakens the force of all those malign spirits, who do, at this instant, conspire to the damnation of your soul. Secondly, he breathes into your heart, Preparation, Generosity, Devotion, and Contrition. Thirdly, he lighteneth this Darkness, this Anguish, & this Death. Fourthly, with great solicitude, he carrieth forward, and backward, those messages, which pass between God and you; he gathers up your sighs, your very countenances, and the humiliations of your heart; there is not one of them, which he suffereth to lose his way. Fiftly, he negotiateth with other Angels of superior 
(i) We read in holy scripture (Daniel 10.) how one Angel helpeth another, for the good of men; & both the holy Scriptures, and holy Fathers do every where abound, with showing the tender care that the holy Angels have of all things, that concern us, either in soul, body, or goods.  Quires, so to procure effectual assistances for your salvation. In most particular manner, he moveth S. Michael the Archangel, that he will defend you in this night. Sixtly, he soliciteth my good Angel also, that he may procure me to be a competent instrument, in this passage, which you are making towards your salvation.  
Salute him therefore, and say thus with me; Angelo Dei, O 
(k) He pondereth the prayer which Catholics say daily, & more often then so, to their good Angel: Angelo Dei, qui custos es mei, me tibi commissum, pietate superna, hodie illumina, custodi, rege, guberna. O thou Angel of God, who art my keeper, appointed by the goodness of God, illuminate me, this day, preserve me, rule and govern me. Amen.  thou Angel of God, so ill known, and so ill used by me, qui custos es mei, who keepest me, with so continual care, and perfect love, me tibi commissum, who am committed to thee, being a man so faulty, and brought by the providence of God to this passage; but yet a sinner who by his mercy, & thy prayers is contrite for his sins, pietate superna, by the goodness of God, for I find no desert, but do cordially confess much demerit, in hac morte, & hac nocte, in this death, which is due to me for my offences, & in this last period of my life, illumina, custodi, rege, & guberna, do thou illuminate, defend, protect, and govern me, Amen. This good Noble Man, did repeat these words, with affectuous and abundant tears; & even by his countenance, one might see, his very heart split in his body. And not contenting himself, to say it only once, he would needs repeat it then, three times; and afterwards, he did it again, so much more often, the same night, as that all the times arrived, I think, to ten; letting me know withal, that he had not felt greater solace, and gust, in any one spiritual exercise, then in this.  
Secondly (said I) you shall take the Glorious Virgin, for your 
(l) To pray for him, as one man may do for another; though all the Saints, & much more, the glorious Mother of God, do perform it, in a far more excellent manner.  intercessor; and then S. john the Baptist, and S. Paul, who were both, condemned to the loss of their heads, as your Lordship is. It is true (said he) that they were condemned as I am; but with this difference, That they suffered innocent, & I for my faults; and therefore I I accuse myself, of such, and such, and such offences, which I have committed against God. Which howsoever I confessed before, yet for the reasons which I have already touched, I do willingly repeat the same. After he had ended his Confession, and received Absolution upon his knees, I desired him to sit down again, that the wont company might come about him.  
And ever, some one of them, would be taking up, some verse of the holy Scripture, which might be appropriated to the present occasion. As for example, Viam iniquitatis amoue à me, & de lege tua miserere mei. Suscipe seruum tuum in bonum, & iustificationes tuas edoce me. Bonum mihi, quia humiliasti me, ut discam iustificationes tuas. Cognovi Domine, quia aequitas iudicia tua, & in veritate tua humiliastime. Fiat cor meum immaculatum in iustificationibus tuis, ut non confundar. Miferere mei Deus, secundum magnam misericordiam tuam, & secundum multitudinem miserationum tuarum, deal iniquitatem meam. Erravi sicut ovis quae perijt, quaere seruum tuum Domine. Deus propitius esto mihi peccatori. Deus in adiutorium meum intend. And a hundred other, such as these; which now, and then, were declared by some one of 
(m) The Resigious men declared them, though the Confortatori might represent them.  us, according to the present occasion, wherein he took much contentment.  
But 
(n) He was most tenderly devoted to the B. Virgin.  especially he had great comfort, in using these other jaculatory Prayers, Maria matter gratiae, Mater misericordiae, Tu nos ab host besiege, & hora mortis suscipe; repeating often these last words, & hora mortis suscipe. And again; Eiaergo advocata nostra, illos tuos misericordes oculos ad nos convert, & jesum benedictum fructum ventris tui, mihi, post hanc noctem, ostend, O clemens, O pia, O dulcis Virgo Maria. Ora pro me peccatore indigno, in hac hora mortis meae, Amen, Amen, Amen. Recordare jesus pie, Quod s●● causa tuae viae, Ne me perdas ill● die etc. In this exercise, tho●● brothers, of the Congregati●●● of the Misericordia, were very perfect, and discreet; delivering out, in fit times, a great number of these versicles, without importuning, or perplexing him. And so also did other Religious men, according to the occasion, without either interrupting the one the other, or yet overweariing the young Noble Man; and they also brought things so, as to accompany them with certain motives, and considerations, with brevity, but with great life of devotion.  
When these things were ended, I said: It will not be amiss that we recite the Litanies, if these Gentlemen shall think it fit. And I (said the young Lord) if you, and they be so contented, will be he, that shall recite them. They all made answer in the negative, saying to him; Your Lordship, would but weary yourself, too much. Nothing less, (saith he) but to me it will be, of extreme contentment. And so, (w th' out more dispute) they put the book into his hand; and (kneeling even, by me, against a form) he began the litanies, to which we answering, Ora pro eo, Pray for him, there 
(o) It must needs, be an object of great compassion.  was not a man amongst us, who accompanied not the words of his mouth with the tears of his eyes. And especially, when with incredible affection, and devotion, he repeated, these words, A mala morte, A porestate diaboli, A poenis inferni, libera me Domine. Deliver me, O Lord from an evil death, from the power of the devil, and from the torments of hell. But 
(p) Nothing but only his sins could move him to tears.  he (O admirable repose of that mind) did not shed one tear. Nay myself being in tears, who held up the candle by him (and not being able to repress them) he stirred me with his elbow, and made other signs to them, that so, giving over their weeping, they might answer him. And speaking of it to me after ward, he said, That there wanted little, of their making him also weep, for company.  
When the Litanies were ended, he said (turning to me) Father, say you the prayers over me, that follow. And then, he took the light out of my hand, and so giving me the book, I said those prayers over him, which are wont to be said, over such as are in their last agony; Commenao 
(q) These are as admirable and affectuous prayers, as any are used in the whole office of the holy Church; and I wish all the Readers of this, to procure to see & read them.  te omnipotenti deo etc. And that other which followeth, Deus misericors, Deus clemens etc. And at the end of these, he said with a loud voice, the Pater Noster, the Aue maria, the Credo, & the Salue Regina; and so he returned to sit down, the others making the accustomed circle about him. And so one, with representing some sentence of Holy Scripture, another, some example, another, some other spiritual Consideration, we always kept him alive, and quick, and even all kindled in devotion; till such time, as the hour of colebrating Mass, approached.  
Then the Noble Man said thus: If these 
(r) This rigour is used in those parts, for the great insolences which have sometyms been expressed, in the like extremityes, by delinquents.  manacles be put upon me to give me pain, or punishment, let the will of my Prince be done, who is pleased to have it so; but if the meaning be, but to make me sure; in vain is he tied without, who is bound 
(s) Because his heart was more chained, by the love of God, than his hands could be, by a load of iron.  within. Upon which words, all of us being full 
(t) They had great reason.  of tenderness; and in particular one of those Confortatori (who shown himself, throughout that whole night, as a most compassionate Gentleman, in service of this Noble Man) caused the keys to be instantly given him, and so took the manacles off; which yet, the Baron would needs 
(u) An humble, natural, & most Noble Soul.  kiss, and kissing them, he sighed, and so held his peace.  
When he had been silent a while, and having made a sign that he desired to confess again; and when he had blessed himself, with the sign of the Cross; Father 
(x) He is much solicued by the memory of his disobedience to his Mother. , (said he) I who have given so many disgustes, and so bitter ones, to my most dear Lady, & Mother, through the whole course of my life; what comfort doth your Reverence think, that I might be able to give her in my death? By dying well (said I) & in a holy manner. To which he answered thus; How shall the unfortunate woman come to know it? I told him, that I would relate it to her by word of mouth; and in fine I would write it for her; and I will not only notify it (said I) to her, but to any other whom it may import to know it. It is enough, (said he) & he reached his hands out to me, that I might give him one of mine, and withal, my word. And so he kissed it often, and holding it between both his, he continued to speak after this manner.  
I could wish, dear Father, that in my place, your Reverence would often visit and comfort my Lady my Mother, after my death. And when so, you shall see her first, I desire that you will ask forgiveness of her in my name, a thousand, and a thousand times, as here I have done, both now, and the other day, since I came to prison. And especially, beg pardon of her, for such, and such a particular offence, and then say to her thus; Your Troilus who is dead, begs that blessing from your most afflicted Ladyship, which being alive, he neither deserved, nor had time to ask. He further recommends the care of his soul to your Ladyship. He prayeth, he beseecheth, he coniureth your Ladyship, to grant him this his last & now only suit; that having put your soul in peace, you will not so much as resent, or call to mind, and much less procure to 
(y) If she thought that the adverse parties, whom he had wronged, had prosecuted him with too much eagernes.  revenge yourself, for any injury; but that you will remit the whole, and yourself withal, to the Eternal Providence of God. Put her in mind, that it is the part of a Roman, and Christian heart, after a generous manner to pardon offences. And, giving her all comfort, do you assure her, that I have particularly re●●sed, all those irreverent wor●● that I have formerly used towards her; and that I ha●● remembered all those most sweet, dear benefits, which I ha●● received from her; and all those Maternal favours, which she hath vouchsafed me. And above all, let her know, the in●●stimable contentment that I have to think of the 
(z) This was a Mother, not only of her son's body, but of his soul also.  Christian love, which she hath expressed to me, in this last passage; without ever reflecting upon those offences, and great demerits of mine.  
Say to her moreover, that I die her son, & a son, who is most profoundly penitent, for all the ill words, and deeds that I have ever uttered, and performed against her; and that, in the other world, I will by God's grace, be as grateful to her, as I have been ungrateful, here. Relate to her my last passage, in most particular manner; and oblige her, liberally to reward all my followers, who have been in prison, upon my occasion. Of whom, I do with all the very bowels of my heart, ask pardon, for the pain, and peril, wherinto I did idly, and absurdly cast them. And assure her, in a wo●● that if for nothing else, yet eu●● for the very disgustes which 〈◊〉 have given to her, I shall dy● content; finding a kind of joy in my heart, that I perform this penance, in this manner, which I have so well deserved. And so, I dying in such sort, a your Reverence may be pleased to let her know, she cannot but receive some comfort in my death; and she will also find, that she is even engaged, so to range herself to the will of God, as, by his mercy, I have done.  
To my Lady, my Grandmother, what shall I say, dear Father? O how compassive am I of her great age! What pain doth my soul feel, for that pain of hers! Give her also to understand, that I beg pardon of her, for so many disgustes, as, in this old age of hers, I have given her; beseeching her in my name, that as long as she shall live, she will weekly, cause a Mass to be celebrated, for my soul. And in like manner I humbly ask pardon of my Lord marquis, my Uncle, from the most inward parts of my soul, as I also do of the rest of my blood; beseeching them all to 〈◊〉 cuse this youth, or rather ignorance of mine. Putting also th●● in mind, that once we shall all me●● in heaven. And if ever your Reverence can procure to be in my Castles, ask pardon, I beseech you, in my name, a hundred times, of all my vassals. Making a promise to them, that instead of the ill example which 〈◊〉 have given them, I will not forget them in heaven, when by the mercy of God, I shall be there; and let them, in the mean time, excuse my youth.  
Forget not also to do this office, with 
(a) This was a person of great authority and place, who took his examination.  Monsigr. the Governor of Rome, who about some four times, hath examined me, with so much respect and courtesy. Giving him assurance, from me, that although my death do grieve me, yet I accept willingly thereof. And beseeching him, that, when time shall serve, he will also 
(b) with how great piety, he speaks of the Pope, as he was his supreme Pastor, & with observance as of his Prince.  assure our Lord, Pope Clement, his Holiness, that I die his most devoted Son; and most satisfied, with the proceeding of his Holiness, towards me. With this moreover, that am grieved at the very roots of my 
(c) A noble circumstance of civility and courtesy.  heart, for having ginen 〈◊〉 Holiness, so much cause 〈◊〉 trouble, and grief; especially 〈◊〉 this beginning of his Pontificate, and in the midst of th● joy, which hath been expressed for his assumption, to the Se● Apostolic. And let him b● further told, that by placing myself, as I do at your feet, 〈◊〉 make account, that I lay my head under the feet of his Holiness; that so he may vouchsafe to give me his benediction. I having this comfort, in the midst of all my afflictions, that his sentence, and my death, will serve to his whole State, for a lawful, and plentiful example of his justice.. And verily, if it grieve me, at this time, to dye, it doth also grieve me, that even by my death, I am not able to give complete sat is faction, to his Holiness. For 
(d) what a noble civil Soul was this?  as much as he, being my Father, and my Pastor, he cannot, in fine, but feel the death of a Son, and sheep, of his, with displeasure, and grief.  
Upon which words, he finding, (even more than before) that there fell some tears from mine eyes, to his hands, This is well indeed, (said he) your Reu●rence, commends my courage, but why then do you weep yourself? At least, let not others see you. Then I replying said. Do you believe, my Son, that I have no feeling in me? Do you think perhaps, that I am some piece of marble? Proceed you on to the rest. And then, naming diverse of his particular friends, he desired me to ask pardon for him, of them all; and this he did, with words of extreme sweetness, and prudence. This being then said by him with a most admirably intrepide heart, he concluded with this desire; I beseech your Reverence, that in the last place, you will beg pardon for me, of Almighty God, as I myself do now, with the most internal part of my heart; and of yourself, I ask my Penance, and Absolution.  
Which as soon as I had given him, the Brothers of that Congregation of the Misericordia, did put us in mind how it was time that Mass● should be celebrated; and so the Priest, as soon as he was vested, began. The devout young Lord, & I kneeling together against a four me, he said thus to me. The Priest is beginning Mass; & I (with your good leave) will have a new Reconciliation, according to that, which my Good Angel shall bring to my remembrance, of whom I have desired this favour. The Priest was saying the Confiteor at the foot of the Altar; to whom one of the Congregation (making answer) was so over wrought with tenderness, that he could not get to the end of it; in such sort, as that it was necessary, that some other should do it for him. Then the good Noble Man, who answered softly to the Cositeor, leaning towards me, said thus, Give 
(e) He had the gift of tears, in a strange measure.  me leave to weep, whilst I say the Confiteor, since that Gentleman weeps so bitterly, to whose office it belongeth not greatly, that he should weep. I answered, that he might weep in the name of God; since he had given him so great desire so to d● And it was an admirable effect of divine grace, that instantly, I saw the tears streaming down his cheeks, and pouring themselves, even upon the cushion, that lay before him.  
When the Confiteor was done, and all 
(f) Till after the Gospel.  the while that the Priest was reading with a loud voice, he did not move at all, but was most fixedly attentive, and as it were rapt towards the 
(g) The Crucifix was of stone, or wood, but his mind was upon the Original and not upon the picture, which was but a picture or Image.  Crucifix, upon the Altar, which was there most devoutly made. And shortly after, turning towards mine ear, he accused himself of diverse little things, which suddenly then did surprise his mind. And the Priest being come to 
(h) About the middle of Mass.  Sursum corda; Father (said he) do you think indeed, that by such a death as this, and so well deserved, I may yet go strait to heaven? And why not (said I) with so great and so well conditioned affectuousnes of mind, might your Lordship undergo this death, as that your soul would be sure to fly up instantly, from the block, into heaven. O my God (said he) And what kind of affectuousnes must that be! O teach it me a little! O that our Lord, would grant it to me! Pray (said I) very earnestly unto him for it, and peradventure he will grant it. At which time, the Priest being in the very act of the Elevation of the body of our Lord, the young Noble Man, spoke these very, very words. O bone jesus, sis mihi, in hac hora, jesus. O dear Lord jesus, be thou, in this hour, a jesus to me. And this he said, with so ardent affection of mind, though with a low voice, as that after it, he was wholly immoveable, till the Priest went on, to 
(i) The later end of Mass.  Domine non sum dignus, etc. And then, he said thus to me. I have not, Father, been attentive, either when the Pater Noster, or the Agnus Dei, was said; may I yet nevertheless communicate? I answered, that for the present, he should do such a 
(k) This was perhaps, the knocking of his breast, or some such other thing, which might be done at the instant.  penance, whilst I was giving him Absolution. Which being done, he went, of himself, to the Altar; and kneeling down, did with exemplar devotion, receive the most Blessed Sacrament; & soon after, he came back from Mass, towards me, where he remained, without any motion at all.  
After this, turning about to all them who did assist, he said, I give thankes to you all, for your Charity and courtesy; and pardon, I beseech you, the painful night, which I have brought upon you. And then, he desired me, for the love of him, to repeat those words, to every one of them, in particular; and so I did. Being then entreated to sit down, the wont circle was made about him. Where every one procured, to animate him, towards that combat which was then at hand; by representing the shortness of the pain, the immensity of the reward, the vanity of the world; & above all, the abundant grace, which, in the space of so few hours, our Lord had communicated to his soul; and had given him with all, such a pregnant sign of his Predestination; wherein the Noble Youth, did 
(l) And so he might most justly do.  show to find extraordinary gust.  
Amongst the many disoourses which were made to this purpose, as well by the Confortatori, as by our Fathers, I used this. And what think you, Signior Troilo, will the grace which God hath given you, be sufficient to make you bear this punishment? Nay I tell you, that in imitation of Christ, you should do well to desire it, and that desire, would serve to make it, a small matter, to you. Nay it would make it seem no punishment at all; & lastly it would make it seem sweet. Even as it happened to Christ our Lord himself, to 
(m) The immense love which our lord jesus bore to man, made all that he suffered, seem little to him.  whom his Passion, seemed so small a matter, that whereas others called it, by the name of a huge thing, an Ocean, a deep sea, (Veni in altitudinem maris, & tempestas demersit me) himself doth call it, but a Cupful, (Calicem quem dedit mihi pater, non vis ut bibam illum?) Again, after that huge heap of bitterness, and torments which he had endured, it seemed nothing to him. For being asked by those disciples who were going to Emaus, if he knew of that vast cruelty, which had lately then, been executed at Jerusalem, upon the person of the greatest Saint of God; he answered, by ask, Quae? for in fine he esteemed it all as nothing. Therefore speaking of his Passion, he used the word Baptism, saying, Baptismo habeo baptizari, et quomodo coarctor etc. And you know that baths do serve for delicacy. What say you then Signior Troilo? Doth not your punishment by this time, seem small to you? Small; (saith he?) it seemeth nothing. Yet can I not say, either that it is nothing, or yet very pleasant; but yet nevertheless, it is dear to me, and as such I prise it. And 
(n) How mightily this noble man, grew up in grace, even by moments.  I do assure you, that at the present, it would be as it were, a kind of trouble for me, to escape it. Before I desired to escape; I sighed for it; I laboured for it; and I know not what of that kind. But I had not then, that knowledge of myself, which now, by the favour of God, me thinks I have; in such sort, that now, I can affirm to you, in the word of Truth, that I 
(o) This so ardent desire, of suffering for his sins, must needs be a great dispositition towards the obtaining of pardon for them, through the mercy of Christ our Lord.  desire my end, how painful soever it may be, towards the remission of my sins.  
To this, another Father said; Your Lordship speaketh wisely; for in fine, God knoweth, whether otherwise, you should ever have been so well prepared for death. Whereupon, one of the Cōnfortatori proceeded, saying: If your Lordship had died naturally in your bed; what, with the pain of your body, and the anguish of your mind; it may be you would scarce have been master of yourself. And if you had died, by any other accident, perhaps you would not have had time, to bring forth, so much as the name of jesus. Whereas now, it 
(p) Supposing first, the grace of God, as is declared afterward.  is in a manner, in your own power, to dye as well as you will, yourself; with what grief of your sins you will; with what love of christ you will; and, in a word, in that best manner, which the grace of Almighty God will impart to you; which we perceive, even so to overflow your soul, that we are as much astonished, as comforted, by the knowledge thereof.  
Hereunto the constant Noble Man, made this answer. You shall know, that by the goodness of God, I find not in myself, any trouble, or tentation; and me 
(q) Nothing but the very hand of God, was able so to have conducted him, through these stony ways. And it seems, that God communicated himself to the delinquent, in a very particular manner.  thinks I am in a hand which bears me up. I desire, and I resolve to dye, in that manner, which I shall be taught to be the best; and I am most ready, to obey in all that, which for the saving of my soul shall be commanded me. This, said I, you shall therefore do. You shall bar you self, in that hour, of some ease. That is, you shall for the love of jesus, and, in imitation of what he did and suffered for you, deprive yourself of somewhat, which you might have; and which, at that time, might be agreeable to you. For, if you do well remember it, they gave twice, unto our Lord, to drink. The first time, when they gave him vinegar, he drunk; but when they gave him wine, as soon as he had tasted it, he put it by. But do you know the reason? It was this. To such as were condemned to dye, it was the custom to give wine, with an infusion of myrrh; that by the comfort thereof, they might faint the less, under their torments. Now our Lord (who was pleased to deprive himself entirely, and fully, of all consolation, for love of us, and for our example) refused that, but he accepted of the vinegar, which was mingled with 
(r) With Gall.  another most bitter ingredient; that so, he might suffer the most he could; both for our example, and benefit otherwise.  
The Proveditore said, that this was most certainly true; whereupon some expound those words, which Christ spoke upon the cross, Deus Deus meus, ut quid dereliquisti me? That Christ our Lord, did grieve thereat, because the Divinity, began as it were, to hide itself from the Humanity; & consequently by little & little, his life was leaving him; & by occasion thereof, he was able to suffer no longer; which the most enamoured jesus observing, did complain of the matter, to his Father, by the words aforesaid.  
To these things a Father of ours, adding other devout, and short discourses, the Confortatore said; That for the time his soul was sufficiently fed; & that it would be well done, to refresh his body. The Baron answered, that there was no need. But they pressing it much, there was brought in some wine, by a servant of the Lord 
(s) This Government, is the place of greatest confidence which the Pope bestows  Governor of the Castle, which, one of the Gentlemen there present, pouring forth into a glass, presented to the Baron; who said again, that it was wholly needles. And yet (said he, turning then towards me) if I should need it, your 
(t) A good memory he had, and a more pious will.  Reverence told me a while ago, that in imitation of Christ, I should do well to deprive myself thereof. Father, is it not so? Nevertheless, being entreated by all the Assistants, that he would drink, or at least, that he would, so much, as wash his mouth; this last he did twice, without swallowing any wine at all. And this was so much more remarkable, because such as are in that case, use to be extremely taken with thirst, and it is wont to be held, for one of their greatest torments.  
The wine being then carried away, diverse questions were asked of this most Illustrious Lord, to which he 
(u) Note & wonder at these answers, which are so full of piety. wisdom and courage.  answered, with so great prudence & iudggement, that more could not be imagined. He was asked first (for, of many, I will mention only a few) & this first question he was asked often;) Signor Troilo, will your Lordship have any thing? He still answered; that he desired nothing, saving that once, he held his peace, but made a sign up to heaven. Besides, he was often asked, Signior Troilo, of what are you thinking? Sometimes he answered, upon nothing in particular; Sometimes, upon our Lord; Sometimes, upon my sins; Sometimes; upon my approaching end; Sometimes, he said, I think upon the so many gifts, which God hath bestowed upon me, & that I have been, so very ungrateful; yea & even unmindful of them all. Being then asked in this manner, Doth your Lordship dye willingly? He answered thus: And what? would you have me bustle against the order of the Prince? Or should I not be content, with the providence, and good pleasure of God? Is it possible, say done, that the Devil should not strive, to make you think your death unjust? I do not, saith he, esteem it only to be just; but most just; and as for the Devil, I neither have, nor will I have, any more to do with him, I have had enough, and too much of him already.  
Another asked him what he said, of the Lady his Mother, his Friends, his Kindred, and himself; if he were not much afflicted, with the thought thereof? Concerning my Lady, my Mother (saith he) I confess, that in the most inward parts of my heart, I find extreme affliction; but, on the other side, I rejoice that I am paying the offences, that I have committed against her, with my blood. And I hope, that the readiness wherewith I inbrace this penance, for my wicked carriage towards her, will be so well accepted by Almighty God; that he may, through his goodness, give her no small comfort, even by this very death of mine. I think upon my kindred with grief, as having been a cause of pain, and trouble to them. Of my friends, as having given them ill example. Of myself, I take no care; for behold who 
(x) A great faith, & hope, & love.  doth it for me; making a sign towards the Crucifix, which he had hard by him.  
Being asked, whether the time did seem long to him or short? Neither 
(y) This do I find to be a strange answer, in the superlacive degree of strangeness  long. (saith he) nor short. And another replying to him thus; Is it possible, that you are not grieved, that you must dye? I do not (saith he) deny, but that I am grieved at it; but yet it neither troubles me, nor somuch as altars me, more than you see. It being wished, that he should suffer his chair, to be drawn a little forward, that so he might sit at greater ease; To what end (saith he) should I give my body ease? I am well here; and with the help of God, I shall be shortly free, from needing that, or any thing else. Being desired to raise, and rest his feet, upon a place of advantage, where they used to kneel, for that so, he should be in a more commodious posture; he said (drawing near towards mine ear,) Father, it is a piece of ill manners, to fit with a man's legs raised up, in the presence of other men. But I telling him no, and advising him howsoever, that he would set them up; he did instantly accommodate himself to my desire. Being asked, to what devotions, he had been most particularly affected: He answered, To that of our 
(z) He was ever much devoted to our B. Lady.  Blessed Lady, in whose honour, I did daily recite her Office, but with an impure mouth; and how then, could that be accepted by her? And till within these two years, I made said he, much account of going to Confession, which through the mercy of my Lord, I resolved never to intermitt, unless it were by some very unlucky accident, that should have interposed itself. And I ever carried living, in my heart, the memory of many things, which formerly, upon several occasions had been represented to me by sundry Religious Fathers, with whom I had much conversed, (insinuating thereby, as I conceive, the Fathers of the Chiesa Nuova.) And when I had means, to do it in private, I never failed any day, to salute the Blessed Virgin upon my bare knees. And then, I saying (I know not well, upon what occasion) Ah poor Signior Troilo. Poor (said he) I was, when I was without the grace of my Lord God, but now, I take myself to be rich.  
But then the time of his end drawing on apace, we rising up from our seats, did circled him in, upon our knees. And (after the manner of two Quires, interchangeably answering one another) we began the seven Penitential Psalms; pondering some of the verses now and then, and causing him, to resume diverse of them. They being ended, he was advised to say often, Eia 
(a) These are parts of some Hymns, which are recited by the holy Church, in honour of our lord jesus, & our B. Lady.  ergo advocata nostra etc. And then, Maria matter gratiae. And then again, Recordare jesu pie, and the like. Which he pronounced, with so clear a voice, so constant a memory, and with a countenance so serene, that all such as were present (himself only excepted) did weep outright. Which he observing, and making silence, and taking his own face into his hands, he stood still a while, in mental prayer. And then turning towards me, he said; Confiteor 
(b) The entrance whereby, we begin to makour Confission.  Deo Omnipotenti, & tibi Pater. I accuse myself of this, and this, and that; Ideo 
(c) This we use to say when we have ended it.  precor etc.  
And then, instantly he added this: Father, I would desire 
(d) A far greater matter it was to ask this suit, then to grant it.  this last favour of you; that you would confess me at the block; and that, whilst I, on the one side, with my beads in my hand, might say, O bone jesus, sis mihi jesus; O good Lord jesus, be thou a jesus to me; and you on the other, Ego te absoluo etc. I absolve thee etc. at the same instant, the iron might fall upon my neck. Not so, my Lord, said I. For so, by giving a sign to the executioner for the cutting off your head, I should become 
(e) By the Canons of the holy Church, a Priest may not cooperat to the death of any man though never so far off; but only for the punishment of delinquents in course of justice; nor then neither, but with particular dispensation, and that in very rare cases. The Inquifition hath nothing to do heerin, but only examineth, and leaveth such as are faulty and impenitent to the secular judges.  Irregular. No, no, I will not do it, by any means. But then, observing that he was much afflicted, by my negative, and so rather to quiet him, then for any thing else, I said it might perhaps be thus, better done. You may confess at the block; and being confessed, you may begin to invoke the name of jesus; and when I shall see, that the Executioner is ready to let down the iron, I may say with a loud voice, Ego te absoluo etc. Yet perhaps again, this would be more inconvenient; for by giving you a sign, of when the iron were upon the point of falling, it might fright you in such sort, as that, if by the motion of your body, it should not fall just upon you, it would mangle you, and so afflict you, with a double pain, and a double death. I will not do it, by any means.  
At these words, casting his head upon my bosom, he said; Ah Father, even by all that love which you bear to this miserable sinful soul, do me this favour. I make a promise to you, in the name, and by the help of God, that you shall not put me into terror by it. For God's love believe me; I beseech you give me credit. Whereupon yet, I continuing, as I had resolved before; O God (said he) and might not thy divine Majesty, move the heart of this my Father, to esteem me worthy of this favour? Well, be of courage (said I, to quiet him) I promise you, that I will do it. Then give me (answered he) that 
(f) The hands of Catholic Priests, are anointed and consecrated with great solemnity.  sacred hand of yours. And I gave it to him, with this purpose, that if he should not remember it at the block, as I verily thought that he would not, than I would let it pass; and that if he remembered it, and did frankly call for it, I would perform it. But it seemed (as I said) to me, that a man could hardly be of so undaunted a mind; as that, in so hard a passage, his memory would serve him for such a business; and that, whereas all men procure to divert their mind from such a blow, this Baron would needs have an express sign thereof. But, in fine, where the grace of God doth enter, it produceth effects, which do fare out-stripp all the power of nature; and no wit of man arriveth to them.  
When I had made him this promise; I 
(g) His heart wrought mightily towards humility  would know (said he) whether your Reverence, will not think it fit, that I give thankes, and demand pardon, of them who have had most to do with me, in this place. I told him, that I liked well of it; and having given him Absolution, I entreated him by a sign, to sit down. Then he said; Father, take you the care of my journey from hence to the block, as you have already promised; and you shall go advertising me, from pace to pace, of such things as are fit, that I may have, my whole soul for God alone. I will advertise you, (said I) of all; Keep yourself prepared, and sit down.  
As soon as he was set, all the strings of our very hearts, seemed to be moved at once, to pray him that he would be mindful of us in heaven. And 
(h) It is a sign that they saw strange tokens of God's favour in him.  every one of us who were present, both with words, and tears, did recommend himself to him, the best he could; and we were not able to satisfy ourselves, in the desire we had of expressing kindness towards him. And verily, this was a death, of so much tenderness, that the remembrance of it at this time, doth affect me, at the very soul. Only the young Noble Man, remained with a most Angelical Countenance; and with a heart which seemed, not so much as to know, what belonged to fear.  
This 
(i) A description of Signior Troilo's person, and fashion.  Signior Troilo, was tall of stature; of delicate constitution; of colour rather olivaster, than very fair; of black hair & thick; of face, neither fat, nor lean; his eyes were black, and full, and quick; his nose sweetly raised; his mouth of a just proportion, & rather smiling, than other wise; his forehead competently spacious, & he had not so much as one single hair upon his cheeks. Of a sweet voice, of ready answers; & so complete in good fashion, that even at the block, he failed not to salute, & resalute all men, according to the occasion, & their condition; and not being able to take of his hat himself, to make others do it for him. It happened once that I desired him to let me wipe his face with a handhercheife; not that he was in any sweat, but only to refresh him a little. But he, having suffered me, to begin to do him that service, said; Father, I need not this. But I desired, that at least he would rub his face with his own hands, for it would refresh him; and instantly doing so, he said, to me in mine ear; Father, I had an extreme desire, to stretch myself, but me thought, it had somewhat of the Clown.  
In conclusion, he caused all those soldiers who had kept guard over him, to pass before him, one, by one; and so, 
(k) It is a true sign, & a certain fruit of true penance, to submit a man's self mightily for God's sake.  casting himself upon his knees, to every one of them, as they singly passed, he asked pardon, most humbly of them, with Noble and Christian words; and he left them also, liberal donatives. To the Gentleman Porter, he did the like, and more; excusing himself for the trouble which he had given him.  
But now there remained no more to be done, for the time was run out, when the 
(l) In those Countries there ring a bell every morning, noon, & night, when all men recite 3. short prayers, in remembrance of the Incarnation of Christ our Lord. This they do wheresoever they be, when the bell rings, though it be in the streets; and there they salute one another, with a wish of the good day, or night.  Aue Maria bell, did sound. Upon the hearing whereof, we all recited that prayer, and he said it also, upon his knees. Then saluting all the company, he sat down, & was silent. And whilst he held his peace, we spoke amongst ourselves, with astonishment at many things, which we had observed in him, & they were these. He did never sweat. He never complained of any thing. He never placed himself, with any show of weariness upon his chair He never shown any unquietness. He never wept, but whilst he was making his confession. He never sought to ease himself, in the course of Nature. He never had any thirst. He never fainted. He was never sleepy. He was never overwroght with sorrow. He was ever fresh, and strong, having been, in that night, so many, and many times upon his knees. He ever answered readily, and with a lively voice. His memory never failed, or so much as wavered. He was handsomely, and modestly apparelled. He 
(m) A strange image of perfection, was this young Noble Man.  spoke not so much as an inconsiderate word. He never expressed a desire of any thing. He had, at certain times, and upon certain occasions, a discharged, and smiling countenance. He did completely give every man those titles of respect, which was his due; without failing so much as once; as to one, of Reverence, to another, of Honour; to another of You. He declared, most currently, his last Will, which was, a sheet of paper, long. He was not taken by passionate tenderness, but only upon the speech of the Lady his Mother. He spoke most honourably, & christianly, of the Prince, & of the judges; yea and even of them, who prosecuted the cause against him. All which particulars, or the most part of them, do happen otherwise, in others, who are subject to the like condition. So that all those old experienced Confortatori of that Congregation, which is called of the Misericordia, were amazed, to see how abundantly the Grace of God, had wrought upon that soul, in the space of a few hours.  
When this most devout Noble Man, had thus held his peace, and we had been discoursing, amongst ourselves, of the things aforesaid, he calling me towards him, who yet was standing not fare off, spoke to me, in this manner. Dear Father, let us make our last Reconciliation with God. And then he made a short recapitulation, of all his faults; and began 
(n) A happy soul to be so speedily, and so entirely cleansed.  to accuse himself, of things so extremely small; as hath given occasion, & matter to this soul of mine, until this day, wherein I writ, and will, until the hour of my death, both to be comforted, and confounded.  
Being upon the end of his Confession, he fell into a most ardent weeping; in such sort, as that bowing down his head towards my hand, I was not able to endure the heat of his breath. And when I said to him, Troylo my Son; Cast a bridle upon those tears of yours; do not exasperate your own wound; it is now enough, and again enough; you have wept enough; you will have time to weep yet again, when you come to lay your Head upon the block, for 
(o) He was to suffer death for his misdeds, but he was to bear it patiently and willingly, for the love of Christ  Christ. His answer was this; I have already told you Father, and now I tell you so once again; I weep for my sins, and not for my death. And when your Reverence shall have given me Absolution, and I shall have performed the Penance, which you will impose (which only deserves to be accompanied with tears) you shall find, that I will weep no more. And just so it happened; for wiping his face when I had absolved him, & I having acquainted him, with some necessities of mine own, to the end that he might give me 
(p) By this holy prayers in heaven.  assistance, in the sight of our Lord; he remained, with eyes as full of serenity, and as void of tears, as if, in all his life, he had never wept.  
But then having raised himself, it was thought fit, by all the Company, that certain Psalms should be repeated, whereof, I was to ponder some of the verses, together with the Confortatori; till such time, as his hour should arrive. Whereupon he said, It is now broad day, and there cannot be much time remaining. Our 
(q) Great piety & gratitude.  Lord be blessed, for making me pass through this night, so happily, and so holily. I thank you dear Father, & you Gentlemen, for your so great favour. The good God reward you for it. And here, all of us recommending our selves again to his prayers, we also again began the Psalms.  
At this time, the Executioner came in, and no man had the heart to tell him of it; but he perceiving that there was a press of people, did gently turn his face about, and saw him, As soon as he had set eye upon him, he was not troubled with it at all; but 
(r) Undaunted, holy courage.  he armed himself only with the sign of the Holy Cross; and making a countenance to me, who stood close by him, he rose, and said: Well, the hour is come; Gentlemen, let us go, and that cheerfully And they all answering thus: Yea let it be done cheerfully, Signior Troilo, cheerfully, for the love of jesus; he turned towards the Executioner, who kneeling down at his feet, to ask his pardon; Do your office (said he) in the name of God, for so, he will have it. Your Lordship (said he) is to unbutton your doublet, about your neck. And he (being as ready on the one side, as he was modest on the other) with his own hands began to unbutton. It is not enough, said the chief Executioner; the doublet must be put off. But the rest of those Officers of justice, were not desirous, that he should put of his doublet. Yet the generous Noble Man said, That howsoever, be would do it, if they thought it fit. For (said he) it shall not greatly trouble me; and if you have a mind to it, I will strip myself, from head to foot, for the love of God. Already therefore, he was beginning to untie himself; but it sufficed that he was unbuttoned to the shoulders. Then, one of the Confortatori putting him in mind, of Non erubescam etc. and the Officer coming to tie his arms, in such a fashion, as that, when he should be arrived at the block, his body might not have much leave to move; In the name of God (saith he) bind both my arms, and my hands too, if your will be such. For 
(s) This man had true faith in Christ our Lord, & his sacred Passion, who in contemplation and imitation thereof, was so willing to suffer, as you see.  my Lord jesus, was yet, much worse bound for me.  
Being therefore thus accommodated, they cast a gown about his back; and he kneeled down, before the Altar; in act, as if he had craved a benediction, at the hands of our Lord. And, without the least change of colour, beginning the Miserere, of himself; and being come as far as the outward room, he paused there, with an incredible decency, and grace. And he said, to some of the bystanders, Might I not thank my Lord, the Governor of the Castle, before I die? And they, presenting I know not what excuse, of his not being risen, he accepted thereof; and commanded a Gentleman, who served the Governor, that he should thank him in his name. And having demanded pardon of many of the Assistants, & exhorting them in some very few words to virtue; by the example, which there they had before their eyes of the contrary, he went on with the very same verse of the Miserere, where he had left before. And sometimes, turning towards me, he would be saying, Come 
(t) See whether this Baron were afraid of death or no.  Father, come; to heaven, to heaven. And it was a strange thing, that he being in pantofles, & going down such a long pair of stairs, as that is; (which stairs are much broken by reason of the Artillery, which upon frequent occasions, is drawn up & down by that way) yet did not his foot once slip. Nay, & I, failing to tread right many times, though I were in shoes, he willed me to take care of myself.  
When he was arrived to the other open stairs, where many persons of the Castle were to see him; one of the Confortatori, who was well experienced in those occasions, and stood on the one hand, placing a Crucifix before him (and as it were covering him therewith) cried out, with a strong voice, Let 
(u) Viva Giesu Christ.  Christ jesus live; be not frighted, my Lord. To which he, (after he had ended the Verse, which he was pronouncing) made this answer; Yea, let Christ jesus live; in whom, whilst I am hoping, I do not fear to be confounded. And then said I, In te Domine speravi, non confundar in aeternum; which being repeated by him, he spoke thus to them; Take 
(x) A noble courage  the. Crucifix aside; let all the people see me. For if I be good for nothing else, at least I may serve them, for an example. There passed one that way, with a bottle of wine in his hand, who saluted the Baron, upon his knee, and the Baron, courteously resaluted him; and so returned to the same verse of the Psalm, which he had formerly begun. Soon after, passing through the people, which stood there, a little, thick, he said; Learn 
(y) Few words, and well chosen. It is not there the fashion, for a man to stand preaching, at the place of his execution.  by my example, to live well, and pray for me. And thus with Psalms, & jaculatory prayers, he came to the block, where there was store of lookers on.  
The intrepide Baron pausing there, said thus. I would desire, in these last moments of my life, to see, at least, and salute, & thank, the Lieutenant Governor of the Castle, since I cannot see my Lord, the Governor. But the Lieutenant, by no means resolving to go towards him (for the extreme tenderness, wherewith he was taken) the Noble Youth, perceauing it, and turning to me, said; Father, his heart serveth him not to come; and perhaps I make the people stay too long. O most valiant, & most undaunted mind, which was troubled more with the sleight incommodity of others, then with the apprehension of his own imminent death. At last, he cheerfully advancing forward, the Lieutenant, came before him; & the Baron, casting himself upon his knee, said to me, In courtesy, Father, take off my hat. Which the good Gentleman observing, 
(z) A kind contention who should most exceed in courtesy.  did, with a most bitter, & loud cry of tears, even spread himself, all upon the ground; and the bystanders, upon that occasion, did cast themselues all, upon their knees; nor was there any thing heard, but a loud voice of tears This generous young Lord, said then, thus to him. Sir, do not weep; I had no design, but to salute you; to thank you; and to beg your pardon; as now I do, both of yourself, and, in your person, at the hands of all them, who are present here; desiring them to learn at my cost, and to pray for my soul. This he said, with so strong a voice, as that he was heard, notwithstanding the noise of their weeping. I also, was not able to stay my tears; when he leaning towards mine ear, spoke these very words, now below, as before he had done, above: Behold, your Reverence is weeping; and yet still you tell me, that I must have a Noble Hart. Then having repeated, diverse times, In manus tuas Domine, commendo spiritum meum; and, Suscipe me Domine, secundum eloquium tuum, & non confundas me ab expectatione mea; he was wished to ascend and then to lay himself down upon the Scaffold. At the same instant, one of the Confortatori saying to him, Cheerfully Signior Troilo, courageously Signior Troilo; and a whole cry of prayers being raised, and made by all the company for him; that valiant heart, did answer even with a smiling countenance; Know 
(a) A noble, and holy, valiant heart.  Gentlemen, that I die cheerfully, for the Love of jesus Christ, & in Penance for my sins.  
As therefore he was laying down his head; where (said he) is the Father? And turning towards the Executioner, he said, Stay a while; for I will be reconciled. And beckoning me, first, towards him with his countenance; Father (said he) on this hand, I place my 
(b) These Saines he used, as intercessors for him to Christ our Lord.  Good Angel; and on that, S. Paul, and S. john the Baptist; our B. Lady, shall stand before. Your Reverence must remember, to perform the promise, which you made me. I will say, O bone jesus, esto mihi jesus; O good Lord jesus, be thou a jesus to me; and when you shall see, that the cord is in cutting, you must say, Ego te absoluo etc. that so, when I shall invoke the name of jesus; and you absolve me; my soul may begin her journey, from this body of mine, towards heaven, by the mercy of my Lord, as I confide it shall.  
I do ingenuously confess, that I was so mightily amazed within myself, & I fell into such an excess of weeping, that I had not a word to answer, at the instant, but in the language of tears. And he, in laying his head upon the block, expressly spoke these very words: Dear Father, draw near me. Let it suffice, and I take you to witness, That 
(c) So that his memory and courage was far from failing him; & perhaps there is hardly to be found in any history, a nobler Character, of wisdom, presence of mind, magnanimity, and sanctity.  I protest my selfe, in my desire to lay down a thousand heads, in this one head of mine; and in this one life, to offer up a thousand lives. I accuse myself, for not doing it, with that fervour of devotion; that vehemency of Contrition; and that promptitude of resignation, which I have been told, and taught. But I know not how to do more. I accuse myself, as truly, of all the sins, which I have confessed unto your Reverence, as if now I did repeat them to you, one, by one. In Penance, if it please you, I will give my head to Christ, as a punishment which is most deserved by me; and of you I desire Absolution.  
So did this Noble heart, which neither was, nor was to be conquered, or daunted, lay down that head, upon the block. And saying then, Bring 
(d) See how this true Christian courage, continues even to the end, and in the end.  hither the. Crucifix, that I may see it; he began also to say, O bone jesus, sis mihi jesus; O good Lord jesus, be a jesus to me, being accompanied by all the people, who were already upon their knees, and who also, invoked the name of jesus. And myself, standing close, at the one side of his head, and looking still, when the Executioner would go about to cut the cord, as soon as I saw, that the knife was lifted up, for that purpose, I said outright, Ego 
(e) I absolve thee from all thy sins in the name of the Father, & of the Son, and of the holy Ghost.  te absoluo ab omnibus peccatis tuis, in nomine Patris, & Filij, & Spiritus Sancti, Amen. He did then, both more speedily, and more loudly than was his custom, say, jesus, sis mihi jesus; O jesus, be thou a jesus to me. And at the instant, his head flew off, at once, from his body. And myself, with many others also, did see, that his head being already cut off, did produce the last syllable of the name of jesus, with a strong kind of hiss, or whisper. And the soul, I trust, did fly up free, into 
(f) His body was interred, in the Chiesa Nuova.  Heaven; adorning all his former life, with a holy end; upon that very day, of the year, whereupon the most Illustrious Lord his Father, had departed out of this life, before this Son of his was borne; that former being the 18. of April, Anno Domini 1574.  
FINIS.