THE LIFE OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN, SAINT CATHARINE OF SIENNA.  
Drawn out of all them that had written it from the beginning. And written in Italian by the reverend Father, Doctor Caterinus Senensis.  
And now translated into English out of the same Doctor, by john Fen Priest & Confessar to the English Nuns at Louvain.   printer's or publisher's device 
I H S  
With permission of Superiors.  
Anno 1609.   

TO THE VIRTUOUS AND CONSTANT LADY, THE LADY D. I. ALL HAPPINESS PERSEVERANCE, AND INCREASE IN VERTV.  
MADAM,  
It is now long since that my heart hath had, not only a very inward compassion of your miseries, but also a vearie earnest desire to present unto you some godly Treatise, which might both be consolatory unto you amidst your discomforts, and a pattern for your conformity unto the life of Christ. Know you therefore, that amongst all the virtues which can shine in a perfect and constant Christian, the forsaking of worldly riches, and the patiented supporting of tribulations, are two most noble and incomparable virtues; Which doctrine was set forth by our Saviour himself, when he willed the young man in the gospel; first, to forsake all that he had; and next, to take up his cross and to follow him.  
Unto this contempt of worldly riches (especially when there is question of the honour of God, or zeal of virtue) many examples, not only sacred but profane, do plentifully exhort us. Bias one of the seven Sages of Greece, seeing his country all in fire and flames, and every man gathering of movables and riches to carry with him, being admonished by one to do the like, said. Truly so I do, for all mine I carry with me (meaning his virtues). Crates the Philosopher, having cast all his money into the bottom of the sea, said. Malo te perdere, quam ut tu me perdas. I had rather cast away thee, then that thou should cast away me. Aristippus coming to Diogenes, and finding him washing his roots, said unto him; Thou bening a wise man, and a Philosopher, if thou wouldst credit me, thou shouldst not need to wash roots, but shouldst remain in the court of a noble Prince with me. To whom Diogenes answered; and if thou, quoth he, wilt credit me, and use mean poverty, thou oughtest not with flattery to lie to Princes.  
To apply these examples unto ourselves; That of Bias doth teach, that virtue is the only jewel which a wise man should seek to preserve before all worldly riches. That of Crates: that riches are to be cast from us, & to be renounced, when they can not be kept without the hindrance of virtue, or offence of God. That of Diogenes: that the virtue of poverty with peace of conscience, is far to be perferred before a prince's favour, when for the same we must flatter or dissemble against our conscience. And thus you see in these heathen Philosophers which knew no God, what riches they contemned: what treasures they despised: what honours they refused: & what poverty they embraced, only for the zeal of moral virtue.  
But alas so passing great is the corrupted and abused judgement of many in these our days, that no man is deemed happy, but he that is in honour: no man wise, but he that is wealthy: no man wretched but he that is in wants: nor no kind of punishment like to worldly poverty. How many are there who expose their souls to everlasting peril, through the inordinate love of their worldly riches? And how few are there, who like unto the mariners, when they see any storms or tempests arise at sea, do cast out of their ship their riches and merchandise to save their lives? This caused holy S. Bernard to cry out and say. O utinam congregata perirent, & non congregator eorum. O would to God the things gathered might only perish, and not their gatherer. This caused holy David to cry out and say. Cadent a latere tuo mill, & decem millia à dextris tuis. There shall fall a thousand on thy left side, & ten thousand on thy right side. By the right hand spiritually, is signified riches and prosperity, and by the left poverty and adversity. In both these men are mightily assaulted: many fall, and many are quite overcome: but without comparison far greater slaughter is made in the time of prosperity, wealth, and pleasure, then in the time of adversity poverty and misery. And this caused S. Gregory to say, that the servants of God in his world, are more a afraid of prosperity, than they are of adversity.  
For this respect our merciful Lord, out of his tender love to his elect, and foreknowing to what hurt and danger their riches may turn them, if they should bear an inordinate love unto them, by sundry means, doth take them from them. imitating herein the cunning hunter; who having espied out the tree against the which the Elephant useth to lean when he would sleep, doth saw asunder the tree: whereunto he thinking to repose, falleth down, and so is taken. Even so doth God; from some, by cutting a sunder the lives of their friends: from others, by taking from them their temporal goods, unto which they leaned more than to him: and unto others, by touching them with sundry kinds of tribulations. Which yet he doth, not of any hate, but of a special love which he beareth unto them. In figure whereof, Isaac said unto Esau, gen. 27. Come near me that I may touch thee, and that I may prove if thou be my son. And S. Gregory, asking the question, what was wanting to job that he should be afflicted, seeing he was adorned with all virtue; This, saith he, that he might know to give thanks in adversity. For as the Apostle S. Paul saith; Virtue is perfected in infirmity. To which purpose, when a certain person besought a holy man, that by his prayers he would deliver him of his sickness; the holy man having heard that he was better and devouter in his sickness then in his health, answered; I beseech our Lord to keep thee in that state, in which thou art best. For well he knew that our Lord hath a wonderful care over such as he suffereth to be afflicted. Unto whom he is, as the physician is to the patiented, who fighteth not against the man, but against his disease. Unto whom he speedily runneth as to a hurt member of his body, and with a most special care and providence doth look unto him, and power into his soul most plentiful store of heavenly grace and divine consolation.  
Now Madam, for as much as you have voluntarily deprived yourself of the riches and pleasures of this world, for the honour of God, how may you not joyfully rejoice with our Saviour Christ and say. Nunc venit princeps mundi huius & in me non habet quicquam. Now the prince of this world cometh, and in me he hath nothing. And having likewise so patiently supported so great tribulations, how may we not all with wonder say. Venite & videte opera Domini, quae posuit prodigia super terram. Come and see the works of our Lord, what wonders he hath put upon the earth. For as Samson being demanded wherein his great force and strength consisted, confessed it to lie hid in most weak hairs: so truly we may rightly confess & say the like, that God hath hidden in a most weak sex, most worthy valour, victory and invincible courage. You may well be confident in the goodness of him, who never permiteth any to be tempted above their ability. For our Lord dealeth with the just, as he which casteth, a precious glass up on high, and suffereth it to fall until it come near the ground, and then catcheth it and saveth it that it be not broken: meaning thereby not to break the glass, but to show his art, that he knoweth how to save it, even when to others it seemeth to be utterly lost.  
Wherefore, good Madam, neither let your long afflictions seem tedious unto you, nor account that lost which you have left for Christ. If we cast water about the root of a fruitful tree, we do not think that water lost, because we expect great abundance of fruit: even so, that which we forego for the love of Christ, is not lost, for we shall gather of that tree, the fruit of eternal life. Rather rejoice herein, that by this your patience and sufferance you preserve your soul in the grace and favour of almighty God; Which such as this world would be if the sun were taken from it, such is a soul when it is deprived of the light of grace. Again rejoice for that you are made herein a true imitator and follower of Christ: who as S. Augustine saith, did himself contemn all earthly goods, to show that they ought to be contemned; and likewise suffered in himself all earthly evils, which he commandeth us to suffer; that neither in the one should be thought felicity, neither in the other should be feared infelicity. Again rejoice for that there is laid up for you a copious reward in the kingdom of heaven. For if to him that had employed his five talents and made them ten, so great a recompense was assured, what a wonderful recompense shall you receive for more than ten hundred pounds a year which you have forsaken for the love of Christ? How shall not our Saviour say unto you. Well done good and faithful servant, because thou hast been faithful in little I will set thee over much, enter into thy Master's joy. Again rejoice for that you have so wisely defeated the devil, and and escaped and avoided his crafty snares, whose subtlety and meaning was, by disposessing you of yours, to have possessed himself of you. For the Devil when he depriveth us of our worldly substance, doth it not for the love thereof, for that such things, are not so precious to him; it is our soul that he would gain, all the rest he nothing regardeth. For so he took from job, his substance, his children, and the health of his body, but chief intended to destroy his soul.  
Now therefore, for as much as it is perseverance which bringeth every virtue to his perfection, you must ever be furnished with perfect Fortitude, the only vertu of all others insuperable; for all the world can not overcome one man in whom is true Fortitude. And as Seneca saith. It is more easy to overcome one whole nation, than one such man. For what can all the enemies and persecutors in the world do, when they have done the utmost of their malice, but that which every little ague, or any other little disease can do unto you as well as they? Yea if all men and devils should bend their forces against one man alone, what greater hurt or evil can they work him, then to deliver him out of this vale of misery, and to send him the sooner into the country of heaven and company and society of the blessed Saints? Wherefore, if besides all the troubles you have all ready sustained for the love of Christ, you should further be threatened with a thousand evils, arm yourself to surmount them all with this only answer, recounted by Cassian in his Collations. Who telleth, that an Infidel outraging upon a day an holy Hermit asked him. Quaenam miracula, & prodigia, tuus Christus in mundo edidit? What miracles and wonders hath thy Christ done in the world. To whom the good Hermit made answer saying.  his ac maioribus iniurijs non movear, nec offendar minis. That I be not moved with these and with greater injuries, nor am feared with threatenings. If yet further you should be threatened with a thousand deaths, answer as Seneca answered the like objections which he made to himself, saying. Thou shalt die. One this condition, quoth he, to go from hence, I came hither. Thou shalt die. It is the la of all nations, to restore again what one hath borrowed. Thou shalt die. It were foolishness to fear what can not be eschewed. Thou shalt die. I am not the first nor shall not be the last. All have gone before me, and all shall follow after me.  
Finally, let not I beseech you, the example of such as flinch, or go back in the time of affliction, be any offence or trouble to you; True it is, that it is a great scandal unto the weak, and a great discomfort & grief to the servants of Christ. But Madam, remember that of such it is said, that they departed because they loved more the glory of the world than the glory of Christ. They be of those, who were present and followed Christ when he entered into Jerusalem in glory and triumph, but forsook and left him at the time of his passion. Men that would have a jesus of silk and velvet. Swallows, who are present at the beginning of summer, but depart in winter. But you (worthy Lady) have begun a glorious combat for the love of Christ, you have honourably entered the same, you have patiently pursued, you have victoriously sustained, Prospere proceed & regna, persever that you may be crowned. Show yourself to be that happy mother of the Macchabees, who by her virtuous and constant example, exhorted her children to endure all torments, yea death itself, rather than to violate the la of their God. Which constancy & blessed perseverance, worthy Madam, I chief wish unto yourself, and next to yourself, unto your Son and heir, and to those good gentlewomen your daughters, which have remained with you in your tribulations. And for the rest of all yours, which are separated from you, from the very bottom of my heart I humbly pray for their conversion.  
Good Madam, so judge of the heart where with this work is consecrated and dedicated unto you, as if it had been in his power, the self same heart would as gladly have presented you a wedge of gold; With the which as you might have been more enriched: so are you by this more honoured, by how much the praise of virtue, is to be preferred before all the treasure and wealth of the world. The continance and increase whereof, I ever wish both to you and yours.  
Your ladyships servant ever during his life. JOHN HEIGHAM▪   

THE LIFE OF THE MOST PURE AND ANGELIC VIRGIN, S. CATHARINE OF SIENNA, IN whom & by whom almighty God wrought many strange and wonderful things.  

THE FIRST PART.  

Of the birth and infancy of this holy virgin▪ and of certain wonderful tokens of holiness, that showed in her even in that age.  
CHAP. I.  
THere was in Sienna, which is an ancient city of Tuscan in Italy, a certain man called james benincasa, a dyer by occupation, no rich man of substance, but having conveniently well to live. He lived, as he was brought up, in the fear of God: and towards the world he was a plain and upright dealing man, well-beloved of all, that had any conversation with him, by reason of his sweet and gentle demeanour: which virtue among many other, was noted in him to be singular. This james took to, wife a woman called Lapa, who was likewise a virtuous woman, very careful and diligent about her family, and withal of very modest, chaste, and womanly behaviour. And therefore almighty God blessed her with many children, of the which she bore for the most part every year one, and some years two. Last of all it pleased God so to dispose, that she brought forth two daughters at one birth. The one was called jone, which, after she was baptized, lived not many days. The other was this Catharine, of whom we mind here to speak: whom the mother brought up with great diligence, and loved more tenderly than she did the rest of her children, because the rest coming on so fast one upon an other, that she might not endure to nurse them herself, but put them out to others, this only she nursed at home with the milk of her own breasts: which was one great cause of special love. But the thing, that did most principally move the mother to cast a singular affection towards this daughter, was a certain unwonted and marvelous grace, which showed in the delightful presence, deeds, gestures, and words of this child, even in the time of her tender in fancy. For when she was but only weaned from the mother's milk, and could a little go about the house, the parents and neighbours thought they could never have their fill of seeing and hearing her: her countenance was so sweet and amiable, her talk so witty and to so good purpose. And as she grew in years, so did she also increase in grace and wisdom: in so much, that when she was five years old, having then learned the ave Marie, she used continually to say the same with ripe judgement and fervent devotion. And going up and down a pair of stairs that were in the house, her manner was to say one ave Marie upon every step, kneeling upon her knees with great reverence. The which singular devotion towards our blessed Lady, how acceptable it was to almighty God, it may right well appear by the most excellent graces and privileges, that ensued thereupon even in her tender age: which were undoubtedly most certain tokens of a very noble & high calling, of God: as hereafter shallbe declared more at large.   

Of a very strange vision showed unto her: and of certain wonderful effects of the love of God towards her, and of her love towards God.  
Chap. 2.  
When she was six years old, her mother seeing her to be of a very towardly wit, sent her on a day with her brother Steven, who was somewhat elder than she, to a sister's house of theirs called Bonaventura a married woman, either to see how she did (as the manner of kinsfolks is) or else in some other errand. When she had done, what she was willed by her mother to do, she returned homewards again: and passing by a street, which is called in their tongue Valle piatta, she cast up her head a little, and looked towards the Church of S. Dominicke, which stood there right over against her, and behold, she saw in the air a goodly chamber royally decked, and in it our Lord and saviour jesus Christ, sitting in a seat imperial, clad with a solemn pontifical rob, wearing on his head a mitre, such as the bishops of Rome are wont to wear: and with him she saw the Apostles S. Peter, and S. Paul, and S john the Evangelist. When this blessed infant beheld all this, at the first she was astonished. But afterward being come to herself, and well advised, she cast up her eyes, both of body and soul, to her Saviour: who likewise cast the eyes of his divine majesty upon her, with a lovely and smile cheer. And stretching out his right hand towards her and over her, made the sign of the Cross (as the manner of bishops and prelates is to do) and gave her his blessing. The which forthwith wrought so effectually and mightily in her, that she was ravished and transformed spiritually into that most glorious and beautiful Lord; whom she beheld with such an inward and spiritual liking, that she forgot, not only her going and way, but also her own self. In so much that she stood still there, without moving any part of her body: & so would she have stood, not only then, but many other times also, without regard or fear of either men or beasts, (which are wont to be dreadful to little children) if she had not been touched, or taken away by some other. But at the length her brother Steven, who was gone on his way, imagining that she had followed, turning back and seeing her a great way behind, standing still in the way, & looking up into the element, cried unto her aloud & called her by her name; But she gave him no word to answer: for she was in deed so wholly occupied in all her senses both inwardly & outwardly, that she gave no heed to his crying: whereupon he went nearer and nearer, and evermore as he went, he cried unto her. But all was to no purpose, until he came at length to the very place, where she stood, & took her by the hand, saying. What dost thou here: why comest thou not away? At the which words and pulling of her hand, she cast down her eyes a little, like one that had been awaked out of a dead sleep, and said. Oh, said she, if thou hadst seen that goodly sight, that I saw, thou wouldst never have done so to me. And when she had said those words, she cast up her eyes again, thinking to have seen it, as she did before. But when she saw that it was vanished away, she revenged the injury done unto her by her brother, as children are wont to do, with weeping. And it grieved her so much the more, because she persuaded herself, that by the casting down of her eyes, she had deserved to lose the blissful fruition of that glorious sight. Thus ended this wonderful vision, leaving her with such a thirst and languishing love after that heavenly beauty, which she had seen, that from this time forward her whole care and study was, how to recover the same again. Now when our Lord had after this manner watered the root of his little plant with the dew of his sweet blessing, she began forthwith to yield, not only buds & blossoms of great matters in expectation, but also ripe fruits of diverse and sundry excellent and perfect virtues: in so much that in all her behaviour she showed herself to all those, that God vowchsafed to converse with her, not like an infant, as her years required; nor yet like a young woman, (which not withstanding in that age had been a very strange matter) but like a grave and sad matron. This heavenly fire of God's holy love had wrought such an alteration in her heart, such a light in her understanding, such a fervour in her will, such a pliantness in all her powers, both of body and soul, to follow the instinct of his holy Spirit, that to them, that saw her behaviour, and took good heed to her words and deeds, it seemed that she was wholly transformed into JESUS-CHRIST her sweet spouse and Saviour. In so much that on a day going to confession (as her manner was) she declared of herself to her ghostly father, that she had learned the lives and austerity of diverse ancient fathers in Egypt, & other Saints, and specially of the holy patriarch S. Dominicke, not by the teaching of men, nor by reading in books, but by revelation from God: and that she had such a desire to frame her life after the examples and rules of those holy men, that she could think upon none other thing, but only how to bring the same to pass. Whereupon she entered into a new course of life, which was so strange & unwonted (especially in that tender age) that all men had great wonder of it. First of all she gave over all manner of play and sport, wherein young children are wont to take delight. Then she withdrew herself from all company, that she might have the freer and more familiar access to God, in holy meditations and prayers. She bond herself to a wonderful kind of silence, she punished her body with much abstinence, and other hard discipline. The which that she might do with the more commodity & secrecy, she sought out a privy place in the house, where she might scourge herself with a cord, which she had provided for that purpose. And as she was a towardly scholar in the school of Christ, yielding herself very ployantly to be lead from virtue to virtue, whether soever it pleased the spirit of God to lead her: so was she also a diligent and discrete schole-mistres, and used means to allure and train other little children also of her age, in the same paths of virtue and austere life. In so much, that when the neighbour's children resorted unto her (as they did oftentimes) being stirred to grace by the sweet words, and holy example of this gracious infant, they would gather themselves together in a certain secret place of the house, which she had chosen out for the nonce, and there would they scourge themselves, as they saw her to do, saying in the mean time each of them, a certain number of Pater nosters and ave Maries, according as she prescribed them to say. By these & other the like exercises of piety and devotion, she found such favour in the sight of her heavenly spouse, that very many time, when she set herself to go up and down those stairs in her father's house, saying her ave Maries after such sort as we declared before, it was seen by diverse and sundry people, that she was carried sensibly in the air by the almighty power of God and ministery of Angels; without touching any step of the same with her feet. And this happened unto her, namely at those times, when she retired herself from all company, and specially of men. And there is no doubt, but that it happened in that place, to give her and others to understand, how acceptable that devotion towards the most glorious mother of God, which she exercised in that place, was to almighty God.   

Of a bold enterprise, which this blessed infant made, to live a solitary life, after the manner of auneient Fathers in Egypt; And how she understood, that it was not the will of God, that she should enter into that state of life as yet.  
Chap. 3.  
THis young virgin had learned by revelation, that the trade of life, which the ancient hermits lived in Egypt, was very acceptable unto God: and therefore she had a passing great desire, to seek out some solitaire place in the wilderness, where she might likewise live after their rules and examples. But she could not devise, how to bring her desired purpose to pass. And because it was not the will of God, that she should take that trade of life in such manner as she desired, he left her in this point to her own natural wit, and would give her none other direction, but only what her own childish wit could devise. Whereupon to accomplish the great desire that she had to serve God in the wilderness, on a day timely in the morning, she made her provision (like a child) of one loaf of bread, and with the same took her way towards her sister's house, which was married, & dwelled near unto the gate of S. Ansanus. Howbeit she entered not into the house, as she was wont to do, but passed by, and went out at the gate: (and so did she never before that tyme.) And so passing forth, until she came at the length, where she saw the houses standing one here and an other there, and not together, as she was wont to see them in the city, she begun to be glad & hoped well, that she was near to the wilderness. Yet she held on her way a little further, and came at the last to a place, where she found a little cave under a bank, which pleased her very well. And forth with she entered into the same with passing great joy & gladness; for she persuaded herself verily, that she had now found out that wilderness, that she so much desired. And when she was entered, she stood not long to consider of the opportunity of the place, or how she might accommodate herself in that new oratory, but by and by without any further advisement or consideration, she fell down on her knees, and set herself to prayer with great humility and fervour of spirit The which lowly and devout mind was so acceptable in the sight of our Lord, that although it was not his holy will and pleasure, that she should follow that order of life, yet to give her to understand that no holy desire or purpose shall ever pass unrewarded, he gave her this token. As she was praying with a very vehement bent of mind, she was taken up by little and little from the earth, where she kneeled: and her body was lifted up as high as the height of the cave would suffer her to rise. And so she continued from morning till noon. But when she perceived, that she was thus lifted up from the earth, she began to fear and to suspect, that it might be some deceit of the ghostly enemy, whose drift might be, by this mean to put her in fear, and so to hinder her designment of going into the wilderness. And therefore she set herself to pray more fervently, and to abase herself more and more before God. Whereupon about that very hour, that our Saviour after his passion was taken down from the Cross, it pleased his divine majesty, that she likewise should descend by little, and little in like manner as she had ascended. And he made her to understand by his secret inspiration, that the time was not yet come, in the which she should forsake her father's house, and put her body to such penance and affliction. Wherefore she was in mind to return home again. But when she came forth and saw herself all alone, and beheld the gate of the city, which seemed to be so far off, that she doubted her weak and feeble body would never be able to endure so long a journey, fearing also lest her father and mother should think that she had been lost, she set herself again to prayer, and committed the matter wholly to God: who failed not to supply the weakness of his little hand maid, and sent a little cloud, which took her up from the ground, and carrying her in the air, set her in a very short time in the gate of the city: from whence she went with all speed home to her Father and mother: who suspected nothing at all of any such matter, but thought she had been with her sister Bonaventura.   

How she vowed her virginity unto almighty God.  
Chap. 4.  
Such was the virtue and operation of this afore mentioned revelation, that it drew all wordly love and affection out of the heart of this young maid, and wrought in the same a certain holy love to the Son of God only, and to his most glorious mother the virgin Marie. And this love was so great, that she accounted all the delights and pleasures of this world as very dirt and dung, in comparison of her sweet spouse jesus Christ. Moreover, being now seven years old, she had learned only by the inward instruction of the holy Ghost in her heart, that is was a goodly state of life, & withal very acceptable unto God, to live in all purity & cleanness both of body and soul. She had learned also, that our blessed Lady the most pure & unspotted mother of God, was the first that dedicated herself by vow to serve God in that most clean and perfect state of virginity. And therefore she thought it most expedient, for the obtaining of that grace, to make her humble suit to her, who had before all others obtained the same at God's hand for herself, and undoubtedly for all those, that should afterwards require it at her hand, with the like humility and earnest desire. Being therefore of the age of seven years, she set herself very gravely & sadly to take advisement, what order of life was best for her to take: and for the better resolution in that point, she prayed to our blessed Lady, queen of Angels and virgins, that it would please her to make intercession to her dear Son, that he would vowchsafe to teach her by the instinct of his spirit, what way she might best take, that were most to his glory and to her souls health. Our blessed Lady, mother of pity and comfort by whose gracious motion this holy desire was first planted in her heart, heard the discrete demand of this wise young virgin, and answered her just request, First with a daily increase of greater desire & longing after the thing requested, which was to know, how she might order her life, to be most acceptable unto God, & then also with a resolution from God, certifying, her by secret inspiration in her heart, that his will and pleasure was, that she should serve him with all purity both of body and soul, in the state of virginity. The, which when she understood, she suffered not that heavenly fire enkindled in her heart, to be quenched nor to slake, but being wholly inflamed with the love of that most excellent and goodly manner of life, she chose out a secret place in the house, far from the conversation of all people, where she might with the more freedom of spirit, offer up her prayers and vows to almighty God: and there composing herself, both in body and mind with all humility, she made her prayer after this manner. O most blessed Lady, O most glorious and sacred virgin, mother of God, which before all other women didst by vow, consecrate thy virginity unto God, & becamest thereby so gracious in his sight, that he would have his only Son to be borne of thee: I most humbly beseech thee, trusting not in any merits of mine own, but only in thine unspeakable pity, that thou wilt vowchsafe to obtain me such grace and favour with thy only begotten Son, that from this day forward I may take him for the lawful & dearly belowed spouse of my soul. And I here give my faith and promise both to him, and to thee, that I shall never take other spouse, but shall by the assistance of his holy grace, do what in me lieth, to keep myself a true, and undefiled virgin to him alone. Thus prayed this young handmaid of Christ with great lowliness and fervency of of spirit; And her prayer was heard, her vow accepted, and she received to be the undefiled spouse of the unspotted lamb of God jesus Christ. The which thing when she understood (as she did by and by, by the inward inspiration of the holy Ghost) being replenished with a certain holy fear, she employed her whole care and study, how she might best keep herself chaste, & true to her dear spouse. And though as yet she felt no motion to uncleanness in her flesh, yet to provide like a wise woman, for the time to come, she began even in those tender years, to tame her body with fasting, watching, & abstinence from all delightful things, and namely from eating of flesh. In so much, that when any flesh was laid unto her at the table, either she gave it to her brother Steven that sat by her, or else she conveyed it privily away, that no man might see it. She prayed very often and much, & subdued her body with much hard and sharp discipline, sometimes by herself alone, & sometimes with other young children, which resorted unto her at times, and were as it were trained under her in spiritual exercises. And so with these and other the like works, she preserved & increased the graces of God, that were planted in her, by her dear spouse jesus Christ.   

Of a woderfull zeal, that was in her to win souls to God: and how for that cause she cast a great love to S. Dominicke, and to his order.  
Chap. 5.  
AFter that this young virgin had thus espoused herself to the Son of God, she was wholly inflamed with the holy fire of his heavenly love in such sort, that she had a passing great desire and zeal not only to be united herself to him with a pure and sincere love, but also to win other souls also. By reason of the which zeal she cast a special affection to those Saints, that she understood had taken pains specially about the bringing of souls under the sweet yoke and obedience of Christ. And understanding by revelation from God, that S. Dominicke had instituted the order of the friars Preachers to that end, she had the brethren of that order in such reverence, that when she saw any of them passing by her father's house, she would go after them with great humility and devotion, and kiss the very steps, where they had set their feet. She had also a marvelous great desire to be professed herself in that rule, that she with the rest of the brethren might do, what in her lay, to win some souls unto God. But when she saw, that she might not do so, because she was a woman, she thought to take an other way, which was, to go into some far countries and there to change her apparel, and so to be received into some cloister for a man. Thus she thought of herself, but yet not altogether without some precedent. For she had understood before of S. Euphrosina (by whose name she was commonly called, while she was a little one, peradventure by God's providence to for-signifie this holy designment) that she had after such a manner changed her attire, and lived a very religious and straight kind of life in a monastery among men. But though this desire and purpose continued long in her mind, yet at the length by her humble and continual prayer, she obtained at God's hand to understand, that he would not have her to take that way: whereupon she gave it over. Now this young virgin waxed fast in the growth and stature of her body, but much faster in the increase of virtue, in meekness, in devotion, in grave and womanly behaviour, demeaning herself in all her words and deeds so discretely, and with such an unwonted gravity in that age, that her parents, acquaintance, & neighbours had her in great admiration. Amongst a number of things, that passed very notably of that sort, this one act (me thinketh) is not to be passed over with silence. It befell on a day, that her mother, having a special devotion to S. Anthony, would have a Mass to be said in the honour of the said Saint. Whereupon she called her daughter unto her, and taking her certain candles and money in her hand, said these words unto her. Go daughter (said she) to the church, & pray our parish Priest, that he will sing or cause to be song, a Mass in the honour of S. Antony; And offer up this money and candles upon the altar. She took the money and candles of her mother willingly (as she was evermore very glad and ready, to do whatsoever she was commanded by her parents, especially if it tended to the honour of God) and went without any tarriance to the church, and did as she was willed to do. And furthermore for her own private devotion, she continued out the whole Mass, and all the rest of the divine service. Now her mother thought she would have returned home again, so soon as she had made her oblation unto the Priest. And therefore when she was come home, to make her ashamed of her long tarrying, she spoke unto her, as the manner of mothers is to speak unto little children. Cursed be those wicked tongues (said she) that said, my daughter should come no more. She is come at the length, though it be long first. The child hearing those words, held herself still for a while, and gave no word again. But after a good space, when she had, as it were, well advised herself, she took her mother aside, and with great sadness of countenance said meekly unto her. Good mother, when ye see, that I do transgress any commandment of yours, beat me with a rod, as you shall think best, that I may be the more wary an other time, for it standeth well with right and reason, that ye so do. But one thing I pray you: for my faults curse no man or woman in the world, good or bad, for it is unseemly for you to do it, and to me, it is a great grief of mind to hear it. The mother was so astoined at the discrete answer and grave counsel of her young daughter, that for a good time she could not devise how to say any more unto her. How beit because she would not have her to understand so much, she turned to her again and said. Why, wert thou then so long away? Dear mother (said she) I tarried to hear that Mass, and the rest of the divine service: and that done, I came straight home, without tarrying in any place. Then was the mother more edified by those words, than she was before, and went to her husband, and told him all that had passed between her and her daughter. The which when he heard, he weighed the matter like a wise man with himself, and took it to be a very certain token, of some great grace and singular holiness, that was like to ensue in his daughter: who increasing day by day, in the love and fear of God, lead her life in these and other the like works of virtue and godliness, until she came to the age of twelve years.   

How she relented somewhat in her spiritual exercises, being thereunto induced by the importunity of her mother and sisters, who would needs have her to use some diligence in trimming and setting out of herself. And of the penance, which she did for that offence.  
Chap. 6.  
WHen this maid was now come to the age of twelve years & upward, her father and mother took great care, how they might bestow her honestly in marriage; for the better performance whereof, that there might not lack any grace or comeliness to set her forth withal, that either was in her by nature, or might be had by diligence: her mother, after the manner of women in that country (in deed rather much used, then greatly commended) was earnest with her, that she should bestow more time and diligence, in washing and scouring her skin, in kembing and couloring her hair, in plucking up such hairs as grew in her face or neck disorderedly, and in other the like vain and superfluous attendances, about the trimming and decking of her body, to please the eyes of men. But the young spouse of Christ, whose heart was wholly prevented with the love of the fairest & beawtifullest among the sons of men, who had also both the loveliness of her spouse, and her own faith and truth, so lately plight to him, evermore present before her eyes, could in no wise be induced, to withdraw any time from the inward decking of her soul, to make it appear seemly in the sight of God, and to bestow the same about the outward adorning of her body, to make it gracious and liking to the eyes of men. And therefore she showed herself to be utterly unwilling, to follow her mother's counsel in that point. When her mother saw, that her words and persuasion could take no place, she was very angry with her, and sent for her other daughter called Bonaventura, which was married, and willed her to deal with her sister, and to use all possible means to cause her to condescend to her request. Who did as she was willed by her mother, and in deed left no thing un-assaied, whereby she thought she might win her purpose. And so in the end, what by the importunity of the mother, and what by the example and fair speech of Bonaventura (unto whom Catherine had always borne a special love & affection even from her child hoold) the young virgin was, as it were, enforced to yield somewhat to the folly, commonly received among women, and so to spend some time more than she was willing, about the attiere of her body. But afterwards, when she had retired herself from company, and considered of the matter by herself alone, she took marvelous great sorrow for it, and was Confessed also for it, with such sobbing and sighing, that any man would have supposed, that she had committed some very grievous offence. She used often times to make a general Confession of her whole life: and evermore when she came to this point, she could make no end of weeping and lamenting. The which thing the Confessor perceiving, though he knew, that it was a token of a timorous and well disposed mind, sometimes to fear sin, where none is, yet because it seemed strange to him, that she should have a conscience of it, as of a mortal sin, whereas he by his learning, was fully resolved, that in truth it was not so; he asked her, whether she had in all that time any deliberate will and purpose, to do any thing contrary to her vow. Whereunto she answered and said, that it never, came in her heart. Then he asked her further more, whether she did it to that end, that she might be the better liked of men. To the which demand, she made answer likewise and said, that there was no one thing that grieved her more, than when she was driven, by any necessary occasion, either to see, or to be seen of men, whom otherwise she was wont to flee, like as men flee serpents; For the which cause she would never stand at the door or window, to see, or to be seen of men passing by the house. The Confessor proceeded in examining the matter, and demanded whether her attiere were over gay, light, or otherwise excessive, above that, that was commonly used of other women of her degree. Whereunto she answered & said, that it was not. Why then (said he) do ye take your offence to be so grievous in the sight of God? Sire (said she, sobbing and sighing from the bottom of her heart) because I think, I did at that time prefer the love of my sister, before the love of God: and whiles I was afraid to offend a silly transitory creature, I offended the divine majesty of the everlasting Creator, and sweet spouse of my soul jesus Christ. And with that she fell a weeping and wailing very ruthfully, & did great penance upon herself. The which the Confessor seeing, pitying her state, and thinking it expedient to comfort her in that case, said unto her. Albeit there was some manner of excess, yet considering that it was but little, and done for no wicked or evil intent, but only for a vain pleasance for that time, I take it, it was not against the commandment of God. When she heard her Confessor say so, she lift up her eyes to heaven, and cried with a loud voice. Oh my Lord God, what a ghostly Father is this, that excuseth my sins? And so with an earnest displeasure against herself, she turned to her Confessor again, and said; Father, think you, that this most wretched and vile creature, which have received so many graces and gifts of my Creator, only of his more goodness, without any merit on my part, should withdraw any time from the service of such a loving and bowntiful Lord, and bestow the same about the setting out of this rotten and stinking flesh, which might also be a cause, or inducement, to deadly sin? When the Confessor hard those words, and saw that they proceeded from a heart wonderfully inflamed with the fire of God's love, being not able to answer her, he gave over to speak of that matter any more. Nevertheless he proceeded to examine the whole state of her life. And when he had done in that behalf, so much as appertained to a learned and discrete ghostly Father to do, he gave afterwards a very sufficient testimony before God and his holy Church, that, when he had heard her Confessions, both general and special, all the time of his life, he could never espy any spot of mortal sin in her conscience, unless this be taken for a mortal sin, which no learned divine (I think) would ever judge. He testified furthermore both by word of mowth and in writing, that he found her always so clean from venial sins, that he could scantly perceive by her Confession (which she made both very often and very exactly) that she did commit any offence at all: in so much that it was well known, not only to her ghostly Father that examined her conscience, but also to as many, in effect as had any conversation or doings with her, that she did never, or seldom offend so much as in word. And so will any man judge, that shall with good diligence, and attention, read over the whole story of her life. For he shall see, that the order of her life was such, her silence so wonderful, her sleep so short, her eating and drinking so spare, her prayers so continual, her meditations and contemplations so heavenly, her exhortations to others so earnest and so often used, her whole conversation so meek & sweet, that where such graces did abound, it was not possible, that sin should take any place, and where so much time was spent in holy exercises, there could not be much time spare, to be bestowed in sinful works.   

How she recovered her wont liberty in serving God, and was reconciled again to her spouse. How the persecutions, that she sustained at home, did not only not hurt her, but also profit her very much.  
Chap. 7.  
WHen this young maid had been thus induced, by the importunity of her mother, and sister, to condescend to their ungodly request, so far forth, as is before declared, she perceived in herself, that she was much slacker and colder in her prayers and meditations, than she was wont to be before. Which happened unto her undoubtedly, by the permission of God: Whose provident goodness disposeth all things for his chosen servants so sweetly, that he turneth even their sinful deffectes, to their further good & benefit. And therefore he would not suffer his dear spouse to continued long in that state, but that there might be nothing to hinder her fervour and devotion, he laid his hand soon after upon Bonaventura her sister, by whose means she was induced to that inconvenience, and took her out of this life, with great anguish and travail in childbearing: not withstanding that she was otherwise a lusty young woman, and like to bear many children. This Bonaventura was ever of good life, and conversation: and yet, because she had attempted to draw her sister from the service of God (to whom only she had wholly devoted herself) and to allure her to the vanities of the world, it pleased God to show this dreadful example upon her, for the terror of all such, as should at any time afterwards be means to hinder holy vows and purposes. And yet would he not have her to be utterly lost: but (as it was revealed afterwards to this holy virgin, and she declared the same secretly to her ghostly Father) she was in Purgatory, and there abode many grievous pains and torments, for a long season, and longer should have done, if this blessed virgin, had not hopen her with her devout prayers. Now when her sister Bonaventura was thus passed out of the world, this devout maid, being by her departure, delivered from that importunate clamour, which was before very troublesome unto her, began to see more clearly, both the deformity of her sin, and the vanity of the world. Whereupon, with an humble knowledge of herself, and sure affiance in the mercy of God, she cast herself down at the feet of our Lord with Marie Magdalen, and there lying prostrate with much lamentation and tears, besought him of pardon for her offence, and would never give over her weeping and wailing, but continued still her most humble suit, that she also might at the length hear those comfortable words, spoken by our Lord to her heart; Thy sins are forgiven thee: And from that day forward she began to bear a special love and devotion to the said Marie Magdalen, and to conform herself to her in the works of penance. It can not be expressed with words, what inward grief of mind she took, so often as that offence came to her mind. She sighed and sobbed, she wept and wrong her hands, she took no comfort in any thing but only in the endless mercy of God, of the which she made herself well assured, that it did infinitely pass all the sins, that any man doth, or can commit, and that it was always freely offered to as many, as would require it, with a contrite and humble heart: whereupon she sequestered herself from all creatures, which (she saw) were void of comfort, and turned herself to God, in whom only she found herself to receive perfect and sound comfort. With him she sought by all means, to make her peace and atonement, & so that made, to set her whole love and felicity in him. But the ghostly enemy of mankind, envying the blissful state of this goodly peace, did his endeavour to disturb the same, by putting into the minds of her parents and kinsfolk, how expedient it was, to bestow her honestly in marriage, especially now, considering that her other sister was departed this life. And so by these and other the like suggestions, the crafty serpent persuaded them to be earnest and diligent, both in soliciting her to embrace that state of life, and in providing her of a convenient husband. But when the wise virgin saw by the light of God's holy spirit, that all that, was but the subtlety of the devil, meaning thereby to withdraw her from her holy purpose, she contrary wise set herself more earnestly, than she was wont, to continual prayers, heavenly meditations, and other works of austerity and penance. She eschewed the sight, and conversation of men, and gave all her friends to understand plainly, that she would have no earthly creature for her husband, but only the everlasting Son of God, upon whom she had fixed her love. The which resolution when her father and mother understood, they thought good to take an other way; which was, to send for one of the Dominican Friars, whose authority, they thought, she would reverence, and to entreat him to talk with her, and to see if he could by any means alter her mind. The Friar came, and promised to do what in him lay: and so did in deed. He set out unto her in many words, what austerity of life belonged to that profession, that she minded to enter into, what a hard matter it was to hold out in the same, what snares the devil would lay to entrap her, how the world, would use many means to cirumvent & flatter her, how frail and weak the flesh was, what a great danger and shame it would be, if when she had once put her hand to the plough, she should look back again. Unto the which points, the faithful spouse of Christ, answered with such wisdom and constancy, that the religious man, which came to turn her, was turned himself: and so, being sorry that he had waded so far with her in that course, changed his style, and said these words Daughter, seeing it is so, that ye are fully resolved to serve God in the holy state of virginity, and that ye are thereunto called (as I am thoroughly persuaded by your words) even by God himself: I have no more to say in the matter: it is the best part, that ye have chosen: our Lord give you grace to follow it. And now, if ye think good furthermore to follow my counsel, I would advise you to cut off your hair; For in so doing, it is like, ye shall both cut of all hope of marriage in your parents, and withal redeem a great deal of time and labour, which otherwise must needs be spent about the trimming of the same. When the holy virgin heard those words, she took them as spoken by God himself, and forthwith she ran, and took a pair of shears, and cut of her hair hard by the skin; For she had before, conceived a certain displeasure against her hair, because she persuaded herself, that by the trimming of the same, she had committed a grievous offence against God. And when she had so done, she covered her head with a coif, and so went about her business, contrary to the manner of all other maidens. The which when her mother espied, she asked her what that coif meant. Whereunto she made no direct answer, because she was afraid to tell the truth, and to make a lie she had a great conscience. Whereupon her mother stepped hastily unto her, and taking of the kerchief from her head, saw that her fair hair was cut of hard by the head. The which sight and loss, so pinched her by the heart, that for very inward grief she cried out. Alas daughter, said she, what hast thou done? But the maid covered her head again, and went aside. At this cry of the mother came the good man of the house, and his other children, having great fear and wonder, what the matter should be. But when they understood the cause, they were very much offended with her: in so much that they reproached her, both in words and deeds. Thou vile wretch (said they) trowest thou thus, by cutting of thine hair, to escape our hands? It will grew again in spite of thy teeth. Though thou burst for cursed heart, thou must marry. And make thyself well assured of this, thou shalt never have good day, until thou conform thy will to our will. And with that they took order, that she should have no more any secret chamber in the house to resort unto, but should be continually occupied about the common service of the house, that she might have, neither time nor place, to retire herself to prayer and meditation. And to give her to understand, how little account they made of her, they put away the kitchen maid, and appointed her to do, all the works of drudgery about the house. And while she was so occupied, they ceased not to revile her, whether soever she went in the house, and to load her ears with most opprobrious and despiteful words, weening thereby to bring to pass, that she should either yield to them, or be weary of her life. Last of all, to enforce this battle upon the seely maid with as great strength and policy as was possible, they found out a comely young man, of a good kindred, and well-beloved of all that were in the house, whom they tendered unto her. But her heart was so thoroughly possessed with the love of Christ her chosen spouse, that she might not abide to hear of any other. And whereas they had debarred her of that commodity, which she was wont to have, of a secret place to withdraw herself unto, for prayer and meditation: our merciful Lord, who will not suffer his faithful servants to be tempted above that they are able, but even with the tentation giveth an issue, taught her by the inward instinct of his holy spirit, how she should build a secret chamber, or oratory in her own heart, where she might dwell delitefully with her sweet spouse so long as she listed, and never be plucked out, whatsoever befell. And whereas before, she was enforced sometimes by occasions to go out of her chamber, and so to be distracted with out ward affairs, now contrariwise she shut up herself so closely in this closet, and took such passing delight in the presence of her love and joy, jesus Christ, whose delight it is to dwell in pure and clean hearts, that howsoever they cried and called about her, whatsoever beating and bouncing they made outwardly, reproaching her in words or deeds, she passed with all such things so quietly, as if they had never been spoken or done to her. And thus had she a very sensible, and experimental understanding of that goodly lesson, which our Saviour teacheth us in the gospel, where he saith: The kingdom of God is within you. For unto a soul thus disposed, where Christ reigneth by faith and holy love, all creatures are made vassal, and do serve each thing in his kind and course orderly, even as obedient subjects do their Prince, in a well governed kingdom. Now when this towardly disciple of Christ, had thus learned this high lesson, by the teaching of the holy Ghost, as she had showed herself to be an humble scholar in the school of God, so had she also a charitable desire to become a discrete schoole-mistres to others, and namely to Doctor Raimundus her ghostly Father, whom at times, when he was occasioned to go abroad, by reason of his charge and affairs, she would warn, that he should build a secret cell, or closet, in his soul, out of the which he should never departed. The which words, at the first, seemed to him to be very obscure and dark: but afterwards, when he had considered of them advisedly, he saw, that they were to very good purpose and profit. He saw, what a goodly thing it was, for a man to build a temple in his heart for almighty God, and to dwell in the same with quietness of conscience, and peace of God, that passeth all understanding. And he saw, how little the devil had gained at this holy virgin's hand, by moving her parents, to debar her of that little commodity of a secret chamber, which she had in their house. The loss whereof was an occasion to her, to build an heavenly chamber in her heart, where she might enjoy the sweet presence of her lovely spouse, so often, and so long as she listed, without any trouble or molestation. And as for the abbasing of her, to the vile services of the house, how little that turned to the advantage of the enemy, it may appear by that, that she herself declared afterwards to her ghostly Father. When she saw, that her father and mother had appointed her to do all the works of drudgery in the kitchen, and other places of the house, she never repined at it, but turned all that baseness to her great commodity & merit, by this holy imagination. She had this conceit with herself, that her father, represented in the house, our Saviour Christ; her mother our blessed Lady; her brethren, sisters, and others of the family, the Apostles and disciples of Christ. The kitchen she imagined to be the innermost tabernacle of the temple called Sancta sanctorum, where the most principal  sacrifices, were dight and offered up to God. And with this godly imagination, she went up and down the house like a diligent Martha, and in her father, mother, and brethren served Christ, with his blessed mother & Saints, so cheerfully and with such a glad heart, that the whole house had great wonder of it. And thus she turned all that drudgery, whereunto she was put by the malice of the ghostly enemy, to the honour of God, to the inward comfort of her own soul, and to the great contentation of her parents, and edifying of as many as saw it.   

Of her continuance in her fervent and devout exercises: and how her father saw a Dove over her head. Of a singular affection, that she bore to the habit of S. Dominicke: and how it was declared unto her by a clear vision, that she was heard. How she prevailed against all those in the house, that went about to hinder her holy designementes, and vows.  
Chap. 8.  
But yet, because she could not be without some chamber, where she might take her rest in the night season, and a private chamber she might not have, because her father and mother had taken order to the contrary: she chose to be in her brother Steuens chamber, where she might in the day time, withdraw herself from company, whiles he was out of the way, and in the night, set herself to prayer, without fear of interruption, when he was laid to sleep. So that night and day, she sought none other thing, but how she might occupy herself in such virtuous exercises, as were most liking to her heavenly spouse, unto whom she commended herself and prayed without ceasing, that it would please him to be the keeper of her virginity, saying evermore with the glorious virgin and martyr Cecilia: O Lord, let my heart and body be kept undefiled. And our Lord, who never faileth to secure his faithful servants in their distress, heard the cry his unjustly afflicted spouse, and gave her such strength and comfort from above, that she bore & overcame with great facility, all that heavy burden of vexations and troubles, that her parents and kinsfolks had laid upon her. And the greater enforcement they used, to remove her from her holy purpose, the more firm and unmovable she showed herself to be in continuing the same. In so much that at the length, when her parents saw her firmness and constancy, they confessed, and said in plain words. She hath overcome us. And her father, who was more innocent than the rest, considering secretly with himself, of the doings of his daughter, perceived every day more & more that she followed in the whole state of her life, not any lightness of youth, or stubbornness of heart towards her parents, but only the motion and guidance of God's holy spirit. For the better confirmation whereof, it pleased God so to dispose, that on a day, when she was in her brother's chamber at prayer, leaving the door open (for her father & mother had given her charge, that she should be no where, with the door shut upon her) her father in the mean time entering into the chamber by chance, & seeking some thing there, of his sons, that he had need to occupy at that time, found her in a corner kneeling devoutly upon her knees; and casting up his eyes, saw a little white dove, sitting over her head; which dove, so soon as he was entered, to his seeming, flew out at the chamber window; whereat being somewhat amazed, he asked her, what dove that was. Sir, said she, I never saw dove, nor other bird in the chamber, that I wot of. The which when he heard, he was very much astonished, but kept the matter secretly to himself. About this time, the desire, which this holy virgin had had of long time, to put on the habit of S. Dominicke, began to increase in her heart, daily more & more: for the accomplishment whereof, she ceased not by day & by night, to offer up her humble prayers and supplications to almighty God. Who liked well of her request, & granted the same: therefore for her better assurance & comfort, sent her this strange and evident vision. Being on a time a sleep, it seemed that she saw, diverse and sundry of the Fathers and founders, of the rules of religion: and among them, she saw S. Dominicke, whom she knew well enough, by a white lily that he held in his hand; which lily seemed to her, to be all in a bright fire, as the bush was that Moses saw, which burned and consumed not. Those Fathers willed her, to choose some one of their rules, in the which, she might lead her life, and serve God, with the greater merit. She cast her eyes upon S. Dominicke, and turned herself whole to him: who likewise came towards her, bringing in his hand the habit of the sisters, commonly called, the sisters Penitentes of S. Dominicke: and said thus unto her. Daughter, said he, be of good comfort, and dread no peril; for it is certain, that thou shalt receive this apparel and wear it. The which words, were so comfortable unto her, that she wept for joy, and gave most humble thanks to almighty God, and to the worthy patriarch S. Dominicke. And so with the force of tears gushing out of her eyes, she awaked, and came to herself again. By this vision she received such comfort and strength, both in body and soul, and withal such a trust and affiance in God; that the self same day, she called her father, and mother, & brethren together, and spoke unto them with a great grace, and comely boldness, after this manner. It is now a long time, sense ye first began to treat with me, that I should marry with some mortal man; The which talk how much I ever abhorred, I never declared plainly, but concealed it in part, for reverence that I bore unto you. But now I may no longer hold my peace: and therefore I mind to open my heart and purpose unto you in plain words. It is so, that I have made a full resolution and promise to my Lord and Saviour, and to his most glorious Mother the blessed virgin Marie, that I will serve them all the days of my life, in the clean and holy state of virginity; And I give you to understand, that this is no new thing, or lately come upon me, but a thing that I did long since, even in mine infancy, being not with standing thereunto moved, not by any childish lightness, but by long and sad advisement; and that, not without very evident tokens, and most assured revelations from almighty God. And I have vowed withal, that I will never incline mine heart, to accept any other husband, but only him. And therefore now, being come by his gracious goodness, to the years of discretion, and more perfit knowledge, I thought it my bownden duty, to advertise you in express terms, that thus much I have, by the will of God faithfully promised, and thus much I will by the grace of God, truly observe, This determinate purpose, is so deeply imprinted in my soul, that it shallbe more easy to make a hard flint soft, then to take this godly resolution out of mine heart. Wherefore I most humbly beseech you, that ye will lose no more time, in treating with me about marriage; For in this matter, I may in no wise, condescend to your request, because I have plight my faith and truth, to jesus Christ alone, whose love I do, and must prefer before all earthly creatures, Now, if it shall please you to keep me in your house, with this condition, as your common servant, I will serve you willingly, and obediently, to the uttermost of my power. If ye think by putting me out of your house, to enforce me to yield unto your demand for lack of necessary provision, assure your selves, no fear of lack can alter my mind in this case. For I have chosen him for my husband, that giveth food to all living creatures, who will not suffer them to be destitute of things necessary, that repose themselves with a sure affiance in his provident goodness. With these words, pronounced with such a comely grace & modesty, they were all so astoined, & withal so overcome with tenderness of heart and weeping, that for a good space they were not able to give her one word for answer. At the length, her father, who was a man that feared God, and had a more Christian consideration of things, than the rest had, calling to mind the Dove, which he had seen not long before over her head, with diverse & sundry other the like very evident tokens of some strange grace, and favour of God towards her, after a good season, when he had won so much of himself, that he was able to speak, made her this answer. Dear Daughter, said he God forbidden, that we should will, or desire any, thing, contrary to the will of God, from whom (we doubt not) this holy determination of yours proceedeth. Your long patience and constancy, declare unto us very evidently, that this your designment cometh, not of any childish lightness, but of a fervent love towards God. Do therefore a God's name freely, what you have vowed: follow the way, that the holy Ghost showeth unto you. From this day forward we shall no more hinder you, but shall conform our wills to the will of God. Only this, pray heartily for us to your spouse, whom ye have chosen in your tender age, that we may after his life be found worthy of the bliss, that he hath promised us. Then turning to his wife, and other children, he said likewise to them. From this day forward, see that none of you be so hardy, as to molest or hinder my Daughter's devotion. Let her serve her spouse with all diligence and freedom: for in truth this alliance, that she hath made, is both more honourable, and also more for the advancement of our family, then that was, that we sought to make; We have no cause to complain of her doings? The exchange, that she hath made, is this; She hath refused to match with a mortal man, and hath chosen to be married, to the immortal God and man, jesus Christ, the redeemer of the world. When the father had spoken these words, not without many tears, both in himself, and in others that were there present, and namely in the mother, who bore a very tender and natural love to this daughter, the joyous virgin, whose heart, was as it were ravished with unspeakable gladness, yielded most humble thanks; First to almighty God, by whose gracious assistance she had overcome this battle; then to her father and mother, for their most comfortable grant made unto her: & from that hour forward, she had none other care in her heart, but how she might best direct her life wholly to the honour of her dear spouse.   

Of her great Abstinence.  
Chap. 9  
AFter that her parents had made her this grant of freedom to serve God, without any hindrance or molestation: she began forthwith to dispose her life after a marvelous goodly order. And first of all she besought them, that she might have some little chamber to herself (which was granted without any difficulty) in the which, what rigorous discipline, and austerite, she exercised upon her body, with what diligence and carefulness, she sought to have the delightful presence of her spouse, no tongue is able to express. There began she to renew the exercises of the ancient Fathers in Egypt: which were the more marvelous in her, because they were done without any example, or instruction of man, by a frail woman, in her tender age, not in a wood, cave, or solitary place, but in a city, not in a covent of nuns, but in her father's house. At the very entry therefore into this straight manner of life, first and foremost she resolved utterly to abstain from all flesh: the which kind of abstinence she continued so precisely, that at the length by long use and custom, all flesh became loathsome unto her: in so much that it was evidently seen, that the only smell of it, was noisome to her body. Whereby she became very lean, thin, and feeble. Which thing her ghostly Father perceiving on a time, and knowing that the cause thereof was, that she received no meat or drink, that was of good substance and nourishment, gave her counsel, that she should put in her water, which she drank, a little sugar to comfort and quicken the spirits. Whereat she was somewhat moved, and turning suddenly to him, said these words. That little life, that is left in me, me thinketh, ye go about to quench it utterly. With that he began to examine her concerning the order of her diet, and found by examination, that the words which she spoke, were very true, for in deed she had so accustomed herself to bitter meats, and unsavoury drinks, that all sweet things were become hurtful to her body, forsomuch as her natural disposition was altered by custom. Her ordinary drink, from the beginning, was a little portion of wine (as the manner of that country is) mingled with so much water, that it lost both taste and savour, and a great part of the colour also. But when she was fourteen years old, she gave over all wine, and drank water alone. She weaned herself likewise by little and little, from all manner of sodden meats, and sustained her body with bread only, and a few raw herbs. After this, when she was of the age of twenty years, or there about, she gave over the eating of bread also, and held herself to raw herbs only. Last of all, she came to such a high state of life (not by any force of nature, but by the supernatural power of God) that for a long time together, she sustained her life without eating and drinking at all, and yet endured withal, willingly and cheerfully, both very painful sicknesses, and also very hard labours of the body. Moreover and all this, it was certainly known, that her stomach had quite lost the office and power of digestion: and yet, neither was that moisture, which the physicians call Radical, consummed, nor the strength of her frail body any jot decayed. Which thing can not be ascribed to any exercise or custom of abstinence, but only to that fullness of spirit, which abounded so much in the soul, that it redownded into the body also.   

Of the great austerity, which she used about her bed and apparel. Of the shirt of hair, and chain of iron, which she ware about her middle.  
Chap. 10.  
SHe made herself a bed of boards only, without any other thing, between them & her body: upon the which sometimes she sat, or stood upright in meditation, and sometimes she kneeled or lay down prostrate in prayer. And when she would lie down to sleep, she never put of her clothes. The clothes, that she ware, both next her body and without, were all . Sometime she would wear a rough shirt of hair upon her skin. But because she was much given to cleanliness, & she took it, that the hair was an occasion of some uncleanness: she laid it aside, & took for it a chain of iron, which she girded so hard to her sides, that it made a deep dent into the flesh, as though it had been burnt with a hot iron: as some of her spiritual companions, and daughters, reported afterwards, whose help she was enforced to use at times, by reason of great infirmities and diseases, unto the which her body was very much subject. The which thing her ghostly Father understanding at the length by them, not long before her death, being moved with pity, commanded her by virtue of obedience, that she should leave it off. Which though she was very loath to do, because she persuaded herself, that the roughness thereof had a great comformitie with the life of Christ, yet because she knew on the other side, that obedience was more acceptable in the sight of God, than any austerity of life, she did humbly as she was commanded   

Of her wonderful watching: and of the grief, that her mother took for the same.  
Chap. 11.  
HEr watching was very strange & wonderful; for at the length she had by a little and little so overcome sleep, that in two days & two nights she would allow no more, but one half hour to sleep: the which half hour also she would never take, but when very feebleness of body constrained her. Her bed (as it is said before) was bare boards: her bolster, or pillow, a hard piece of wood. The which thing her mother perceiving, being moved with motherly affection, and pity towards her own flesh, entreated her earnestly, that she would give over her own hard bed for a time, and be contented to lie with her upon her bed, and there to take her sleep if she could, if she could not, at the least to rest herself a little. She showed herself in all points obedient to her mother, and went with her into her chamber, and when her mother was laid in one side of the bed, she went & laid herself down in the other side: Where she continued watching in prayer and meditation, until at the length perceiving her mother to be fast a sleep, she rose up softly without making any noise, & got herself to her wont exercises. But the suspicious mother, whose heart was evermore waking, espied forthwith the wiliness of her daughter, and took it very grievously. Whereupon the good daughter, who had always a great care to do nothing, that might grieve her mother, devised a new sleight, by the which she thought, she might both satisfy her mother's mind, and exercise in some degree her accustomed discipline. She took two pieces of timber, and put them privily into the bed, under the sheet, on that side where she should lie, and laid herself down upon the same. But it was not so secretly done, but that the mother, who had a great jealousy of all her doings, within a short time found it out. The which when she espied, and saw withal, that how diligent and careful soever she was to qualify the rigour of her daughter's life, she would on the other side be as politic and inventive, to find means to continue the same; as one overcome she gave over, and said unto her after this manner. Daughter, I see well, it booteth not to strive with you any longer, I do but lose my labour; Wherefore a God's name go your way, & take your rest in your own chamber, at what time, and after what manner, ye shall think best. And so after this time she intermeddled no more in her doings, but suffered her freely to follow the instinct & guidance of the holy Ghost in all things. When the blessed virgin had thus by her godly wiliness, overcome this battle, that was raised against her by the malice of the ghostly enemy, to hinder her heavenly designementes, she returned to her former spiritual exercises again, with a passing great increase of fervour and devotion. She took such a delight in meditating & reasoning, upon things appertaining to godliness, that doctor Raimundus her ghostly Father (who was a very grave, wise and learned man) affirmed this to be a thing, which he took to be most certainly true, that if she might have come into the company of men of understanding, that would have reasoned with her of God, a hundred nights, she would have continued with them in such communication without eating, drinking or sleeping. Yea he affirmed furthermore, that, when she had any such occasion to speak or hear others speak of God, she was sensibly nourished, recreated and comforted withal: as contrary wise, when she might not be so occupied, it was evidently seen, that she drooped, and became lean, dry, and feeble. He confessed also to the honour of God & of his holy spouse (though withal to his own shame & confusion) when that blessed virgin would at times speak of the goodness of God, and of his mercies towards her, he (by reason of the length of time, which she spent evermore willingly about that matter, and also, because▪ he was far from that fervour of love that was in her) being overcome with the heaviness of his body, fell into a slumber, & she in the mean time, being mightiely carried up into God by the vehemence of her spirit, continued her discourse still, taking no heed to him: until at the length after a long time, casting her eye aside, and seeing that he was a sleep, she would cry to him aloud and say: Alas Father, why lose you the profit of your soul for a little sleep? Do I speak to a wall, or to you?   

How she beat herself for a long time, thrice in the day, with a chain of iron.  
Chap. 12.  
THis holy virgin, having a great desire to follow the steps of S. Dominicke, used for a long space to beat herself, three times every day with a chain of iron. The first time, for herself: the second, for the living: & the third, for the dead. The which discipline she was enforced at the length to geve-over, by reason of the weakness of her body. Being demanded on a time of her ghostly Father, how, and after what manner she did that penance, she answered with great bashfulness, that for every time she took an hour and a half, and beat herself so, that the blood tricled down from her shoulders to her feet. And while she was in this exercise, laid on so sore upon her body, that her mother being one time near unto the chamber, & hearing the noise of the strokes, was in wardly moved with motherly pity, and so entered in suddenly upon her. But when she saw the manner of it, when she beheld presently with her eyes, the rough iron chain, where with she beat herself, the body of daughter miserably rend and torn, the bloody streams, that ran down to the ground on all sides, being overcome with natural compassion, she cried out like a woman besides herself, and said. Alas Daughter, what dost thou, what meanest thou? Wilt thou kill thyself? Who hath counseled my daughter to exercise such cruelty upon her tender body? with that she scright out, as loud as ever she could, and tore her hair and clothes, and sared like a mad woman. In so much that the neighbours round about, hearing the lamentable crying of the old woman, and dowbting of some strange and heavy mischance, came running into the house to comfort the afflicted mother. When they were there, and saw what had happened, it is hard to say, whether of them two they pitied more, either the mother, whose bowels (they saw) were so inwardly moved, with compassion on her dear child, or the daughter, who had exercised such rigorous justice, and bloody revenge, upon her own body, for the sins of others.   

How she desired earnestly to receive the habit of S. Dominicke: and how her mother, to turn her mind, lead her away to the baths. What penance she did even in the baths.  
Chap. 13.  
WHen this blessed maid was thus at liberty to occupy herself in the afore mentioned exercises of godliness and penance: the more the ghostly enemy busied himself to hinder her good purposes, the more earnest she waxed in following the same. And now, calling to mind the religious habit, promised unto her long before by the blessed Father S. Dominicke, she never ceased to pray to God with inward groaning & tears both by day & by night, that he would vowchsafe to fulfil his promise with speed. For she saw, that she should never be free from the molestation of her parents, until such time as she had received it: & therefore she humbly besought them also, that they would be contented to dismiss her, & to be means to the sisters that lived in penance, under the rule of S. Dominicke, commonly called there, the sisters of the mantle, that she might be admitted into their company. But her mother, who had no liking of her suit, but sought rather somewhat to qualify the rigour of her exercises already begun, determined to go to a hot bath, and to take her daughter with her, hoping thereby to bring to pass, what by cherishing of her body with such sensual delights, and what by distracting her mind from her wont meditations, that she should in time by little and little, relent the extremity of her rough discipline. Undoubtedly this was not done without the instigation of the devil, whose bent was, to withdraw that devout soul, from following the calling of her spouse. But there is no counsel against God, who taught his true servant to turn all the treacherous wiles of the enemy, to her further commodity & profit. When she came to the bath, she found out a new manner of bathing, such as had not lightly been hard of, before that tyme. she entreated her mother, that she might be in the bath alone, when all other had bathed themselves. The which thing when her mother had granted with a very good will, (being in deed a plain meanying woma, nand nothing suspecting the wiliness of her daughter in that matter) she went and set herself under the spout, where the water came scalding hot into the bath: and there suffered patiently greater pains, of the heat of the water, than she was wont to do at home, when she beat herself with the iron chain. Now when her mother had espied that also, and saw that whatsoever she could devise, for the solace or comfort of her daughter's body, was by her wiliness turned to the contrary, she determined to return to her house again: where not withstanding she ceased not to show in words, that she had a great misliking, of her extreme severetie and penance. Unto the which words the good daughter gave but a deaf ear, having evermore greater regard to the holy spirit of God, speaking inwardly in her heart, then to the outward sound of words, that tended to the hindrance of her godly designementes. Afterwards, when her ghostly Father, (who had heard tell of her bathing by the report of her mother) demanded of her how it was possible, that she should be able to suffer the heat of that scalding water so long time, without the extreme damage and peril of her body, she made answer and said very simply, that being in the bath, she called to mind the pains of hell, & purgatory, and so made her prayer to almighty God, whom she had so grievously offended, that he would vowchsafe of his endless mercy, to change the torments, that she had deserved by her sins, into those pains, that she would willingly put herself unto there for is love. Unto the which prayer it pleased God to make answer, by giving her such a passing great joy and gladness in her heart, that all the pain, that she suffered, was pleasant and delightful unto her: and the almighty power of God, so dispensed with her body, that it had in deed a very great and sensible feeling of pain, but no hurt or blemish at all. When she had thus satisfied the demand of her ghostly Father, she went home, and fell again to the exercises of her accustomed penance.   

How she received the habit of S. Dominicke: and how she was the first virgin that received the same.  
Chap. 14.  
NOw to come to our matter again, when this blessed virgin was returned from the baths, she ceased not to solicit her mother, that she would move the aforenamed sisters of the mantle, that she might receive the habit, that she had so long and earnestly desired. The mother being overcome with the importunity of her daughter, went to the sisters, and entreated them, that she might be received into their company. Whereunto they made answer, that it was not their manner, to receive young maidens into their habit, but only widows, and women of sad years, such as were thought able and likely to have experience to govern themselves: because they had no common place and conversation as commonly covents of religious persons have, but lived eachone a part from other in private celles. When the mother came home with this answer to her daughter, she was nothing daunted withal, but besought her mother, after a very humble manner, that she would take the pains to renew her suit again, and use more earnest means to persuade with them, than she had done before. Which thing she was well content to Do, and went again: but in fine could obtain no better answer, than she had at the first. The which unpleasant answer also, the good daughter took in very good part, remitting herself humbly to the will of God in all things, and making herself well assured, that the holy Father S. Dominicke would in time (when it should please God) fulfil his promise. In the mean time, it chanced this blessed virgin to be visited with a very painful sickness. Her body was so disfigured with the measles, that she could scantly be known: and withal she was so sore vexed with a hot burning ague, that her mother, who loved her among all her childs most tenderly, had very great pity and fear of her. The which occasion, the wise virgin thought, was not to be slipped: but taking the opportunity of the present state and time, began to move her mother once again after this manner. Good mother, as ye tender my life and health, so I beseech you, to use diligent and earnest means to procure me the habit, that I have so long desired; for otherwise I am well assured, that our Lord, and S. Dominicke, who have called me to their service, will so dispose of me, that you shall not have me long, neither in that habit, nor in any other. These words she repeated so often, and with such vehemency, that her mother at the length, being very sore afraid, lest her daughter showld have died in deed, went again to the religious sisters, and entreated them so earnestly, that they were overcome with her importunity, and so made her an answer after this manner. If your daughter (said they) be not over-faire, we are content to receive her. If she be, the malice (ye know) of the world is such, that you shall hazard the good name, both of your daughter, and of all us. And therefore we may in no wise receive her. Whereunto the mother answered and said. Come yourselves and judge, whether she be fair or no. Whereupon they sent two discreet matrons, chosen out among themselves, to go and consider both of the state of her body, and also how she was affected in mind. Which coming to the house, found the maid lying sick on her bed, and by sickness so altered, that they might not well discern the disposition of her body. Howbeit by her words, they saw very evidently, that she had a marvelous fervent desire in her heart to serve God, whereat they were both very much astoined, & also very glad, to see so young a maid, to pass a number of ancient women, in virtue and godliness. And so taking their leave there, they went home to the rest of their company, and declared unto them, what they had heard & seen. Upon the which report, they communicated the matter to the brethren of the Order, and that done resolved with a full consent to receive her into the habit, sending word to the mother, that so soon as her daughter was recovered, she should bring her without any longer delay. The which tidings was so joyful to the young virgin, that she wept for very joy, and thanked God, and S. Dominicke, that it pleased them, at the length, to perform their promise. And then she began to alter the tenor of her prayer; for whereas before she was evermore glad of bodily sicknesses and diseases, now contrariwise she besought our Lord, in most humble & earnest manner, that he would vowchsafe to deliver her out of hand from that infirmity of body, that stayed her there, from the accomplishing of her vow and purpose, referring herself, notwithstanding in all things, to the holy will, and disposition of almighty God. Who gave ear to the inward groaning of his faithful spouse, and granted her petition in such sort, that she received forth with both health of body, and also the habit that she so much longed after. And because she was the first virgin, that was received into that habit, she was also accounted afterwards, the head and sowndresse of all the virgins, that by her example were admitted into the same Order.   

Of the holy Vows, designementes, and exercises, which the blessed virgin used, after the receiving of the habit: and what effectual exhortations, she made to excite herself to the service of God.  
Chap. 15.  
When she had received the habit, though it were not the manner in that Order, to make a public and solemn profession, yet she made a full & prefect resolution, from the bottom of her heart to serve God in extreme poverty, and straight obedience: the which she observed so precisely, that at the very time, when she was to pass out of this life, she said boldly, that she could not remember, that she had ever transgressed, or failed, in any thing, that was commanded her by her superiors, were it never so little. Her poverty also was so perfect, that in all her life, she did not only herself, not possess or desire any things that were superfluous, but besought almighty God also most heartily, for her father and mother brethren and sisters, that it would please him to diminish their state and substance, to the end that a number of occasions and inducementes unto sin, which are commonly annexed with the abundance of earthly things, might be taken away from them, and they by lack & necessity, brought to remember God, and to flee unto him, for succour and help, in their distress. And it was evidently seen, that her prayer was heard; for it fell so out by the provident goodness of God, that they came in deed to great penury and lack, by strange chances, without any fault on their part. Now, being thus newly entered, into the discipline of the sissters penitentes, she took such a passing delight, in the observation of the rule, and had such a desire, and earnest longing, to attain to the perfection of spiritual life, that she would speak to herself at times, after this manner. Lo Catherine, thou art now entered into a state of religion; from hence forward, thou must take an other trade of life, and not live, as thou hast done hitherto. Let the world pass now, & begin to think of religion, dost thou not consider the colour of the habit, which thou hast taken, and what it meaneth? Thine inner garment is white: to geave thee to understand, that thou must be inwardly white, and pure of life, without any mixture of any uncleanness. Thine outward garment is black; whereby thou art put in mind to mortify thy flesh, with new watching, fasting, and prayer, and with other the like works of austerity. Thou must now fight manfully, and subdue thy rebellious flesh: Thou must die to the world, and live only to thy spouse Look thou therefore, what is required of thee to do, and not what most men do. Thou hast taken the straight way, that leadeth to life, wherefore it behoveth thee to straighten thyself, and to walk warily in this way. Thy spouse teacheth thee, that this is the way that few take, which is a warning to thee, that thou must have an eye, not to the multitude, but to the fewest, and best; For the way of the greater number of men is wide, and leadeth to damnation. These and other the like speeches, she would use at times, to stir up herself, to the better observation of her godly vows, and designementes. And among other things, she determined to keep a very strange, & rigorous manner of silence; In so much that for the space of three years, she never spoke with any creature, but only with her ghostly Father, & with him she spoke only in confession, & not otherwise. Out of her cell, she never went, unless it were to the Church to hear Mass, or some other divine service. And because she began then to eat none other meat, but only bread, and raw herbs, she needed not to go out for any other provision. She determined never to go to take any repast, or bodily sustenance, without much weeping before: as though that had been a convenient antepast, to procure an appetite. After this manner she found the means to find out a wilderness in the middle of the city, and to make herself a solitary place, were there was great resort and concourse of people. She continued in prayer, & meditation, in the night season, until the Friars Preachers, rang the second peal to Matins. And then she went to take a little rest; saying these words to our Lord. Lord, hitherto have thy servants my brethren taken their rest, and I have kept the watch for them, before thee our guardian, & protector, beseeching thee to keep them from the assaults of the enemy, and all evil; Now are they risen to praise thee: wherefore I humbly pray thee, to keep them, and to give me leave to rest a while; And so she laid herself down, upon the bare boards, and put under her head, a hard block, in steed of a bolster or pillow.   

Of diverse and sundry visions and revelations showed unto her; With a doctrine how to discern between true and false visions.  
Chap. 16.  
THis holy virgin, declared in secret confession, to her ghostly Father, that at what time she began to retire her self from all conversation, and to live alone in her cell, it pleased her spouse jesus Christ, to visit her in visible manner, and to give her instructions, in matters concerning her salvation. Father, said she, take this for a most certain truth, that I was never taught the rule of spiritual life, by any man or woman, but only by jesus Christ, the spouse of my soul: who hath informed me always, either by secret inspiration, or else appearing openly unto me, and speaking to me, as I now speak to you. She declared moreover to her ghostly Father, that at the begyning, her visions were for the most part, only wrought in her imagination; but afterwards they were sensible: in so much that she saw with her bodily eyes, and heard with her bodily ears, the sound of the voice, that spoke unto her. She reported furthermore, that at the beginning, she began to doubt and fear, lest it might be some deceit, or illusion of the ghostly enemy, who transfigureth himself into an Angel of light. Which fear our Lord misliked not, but rather commended it highly unto her, and said, that so long as a man or woman, liveth in this life, he should always stand in fear, according as it written. Blessed is the man, that is ever fearful. And he asked her, whether she were willing, to learn of him certain, notes and tokens, by the which she might be able, to discern between the true visions of God, and the false illusions of the enemy. Whereunto she made answer, with great submission, and lowliness of spirit, and besought him humbly, that he would vowchasafe to teach her. Then he said these words. Daughter, It were an easy matter for me, to inform thy soul inwardly, with the secret instinct of my spirit, in such sort, that thou shouldest at all times discern perfectly and without error, between true visions, and counterfeicte illusions. But because my will is, that it should profit others, as well as thee: therefore I will teach thee a general rule and lesson, which is this. My vision beginneth evermore with fear and dread, but in process of time, it setteth a soul in great joy, quietness, and security. It beginneth with some kind of bitterness, but in continuance it waxeth more delightful & sweet. The visions of the enemy, are contrary; For in the beginning, they show a kind of security and gladness, but in process they turn to fear, and bitterness, which increase afterwards, and wax greater and greater. And it standeth with good reason: for so much as my ways, and the ways of the enemy, have this special difference. My ways are the keeping of the commandments, in perfection of a virtuous and godly life, which leadeth unto me. These seem at the beginning, to be full of difficulty and unpleasant: but in time, they become easy enough, & pleasant. But the ways of the enemy, are the transgressing of my commandments, in the liberty of the flesh, and licentiousness of life, which show at the beginning, to be delightful, and pleasant: but in continuance of time, they prove in very deed, dangerous, painful, and unpleasant. Take this also, for a most certain and infallible rule, to discern between true, and false visions; Because I am truth, it can not otherwise be, but that evermore by my visions, the soul of man must needs receive a greater knowledge of truth: by the which knowledge he cometh to understand, both his own baseness, & the worthiness of God: and so consequently, to do due honour and reverence to God, and to make little account of himself; which is the proper condition of humility. The contrary happeneth in the visions of the enemy; For he being the father of lying, and king over all the children of pride, can give none other thing, but only what he hath: and therefore in his visions there must needs ensue in a soul, ignorance, and error: by reason whereof it conceiveth a false reputation of itself, which is the proper condition of pride. By this mayest thou know, whether thy visions be of me, or of the enemy, of truth, or of falsehood. If they come of truth, they will make thy soul humble: if they come of falsehood, they will make thy soul proud. Thus was she instructed of the teacher of all truth, jesus Christ: and she kept his doctrine and instructions, very faithfully in mind, and uttered them afterwards to her ghostly Father, and others, for their instruction, as it shallbe declared hereafter. And after this time it pleased God to send her so many visions, and revelations, that who so would consider of them advisedly, he should see, that it were hard to find, any two men in the world, more familiary acquenited, than our Lord and she were. In so much that whether she prayed, or read, or meditated, or walked, or waked, or slept, she was at all times, and in all places, visited, and comforted of our Lord. And which is more, while her tongue was outwardly speaking unto men, her heart was inwardly bend upon God, and spoke, spiritually with him. Howbeit that could not endure any long time: forsomuch as her soul was within a little space, so drawn up and united to God, that it could not choose, but forsake utterly, the senses and powers of the body.   

Of a very goodly and profitable doctrine, of our Saviour, worthy to be planted in the hearts of as many, as are desirous to come to spiritual perfection.  
Chap. 17.  
Amongst a number of goodly and high lessons, that she learned of our Saviour, this was one. On a time, while she was praying, our Saviour appeared to her, and said. Daughter, knowest thou what thou art, and what I am? If thou have a perfect knowledge of these two points, thou art blessed. For by the mean thereof, thou shalt easily escape all the snares of the enemy, and shalt not at any time, give consent to any sin, that is against my commandments: but contariwise, thou shalt be able to attain to all grace, all truth, all charity without any great difficulty or hardness. This is a brief doctrine, by the which a man may, without reading many books, without discussing many subtle, and perplexed points of philosophy, be made blessed, and unite himself with God. Full well did my servant Augustine understand this, when he said. O Lord, when I know thee, and when I know myself, then have I obtained the fruit of all my prayer. Very few attain, to the perfect understanding of this matter: and therefore give thou good heed to my words, that thou mayest be made able to conceive it. Thou art she, that art not. Is not this true? Art not thou she, that was made of nothing? In so much as every creature is made of nothing: and so having no manner of being of itself, it beginneth to have a being, by my almighty power, to wit, what soever is, it is by me, and not by itself. And therefore of itself, it tendeth evermore to nothing again, that is, to have no being. And if I should withdraw my hand, that conserveth it, but for the space of one moment, it would forthwith turn to be, as it was of itself, that is, nothing. Now because sin is a defect, and so consequently nothing: therefore man (unless the hand of God did always preserve him) would of himself, tend unto sin, and so to all manner of defect. This is the doctrine, which I taught my disciples, when I said; Without me ye can do nothing. And by the mouth of mine Apostle; He that taketh himself to be somewhat, when he is nothing, deceiveth himself. And in an other place; We are not sufficient to think any thing of ourselves, as of ourselves, but our sufficiency is of God. Be thou therefore well assured, that whatsoever you are, that are you by my creation, and by my conservation, by the which it may be said after a sort, that I do as it were, create you again and again, from time to time, and give you a new being every moment. And know thou also for an undoubted truth; that as of yourselves you are nothing, so of yourselves you do evermore tend to nothing. Now if a man were thoroughly persuaded in this truth, to wit, if a man were fully resolved, that in truth he were nothing, how could he be proud? How could he glory in himself, or in any work of his own, if he knew, that there were nothing properly his own, but only defects and sin? How could he vaunt, and set himself before others, if he did consider with good advisement, that he were equal with all others, to wit, nothing, as all others be? How could he bear envy to any other, or disdain the state of any man, or woman in the world, if he saw clearly, that all goodness were of God, and all evil of himself? And (if he took these grounds to be true) how could he put his hope and affiance, in any man or other earthly thing? How could he be brought to say, or to think, that this thing is mine, if he were resolved, that it is God that hath made, it and not himself, who (as of himself) is nothing? And none can give that to an other, that he hath not himself. He that hath not his being of himself, but hath received the same of an other by way, as it were, of petition and begging, can not impart it unto any other. And therefore the creature that knoweth this, accounteth himself vile and base, and full of defects, and maims, on all sides. The which conceit causeth, that he can not love any thing in himself, because he seethe, that there is but one thing properly, and truly, to be accounted his own, which is sin. But because, man standing in these terms, should fall away, and live in a wretched kind of despair (forsomuch as naturally he is inclined to have a being) therefore, the other part of this doctrine is very requisite to be understood, which is, that I am he, that am: as it was said to Moses, in the vision of the bush, that burned & was not consumed. In truth that thing is that is of itself. And that thing only is of itself, whose being dependeth not of any other, nor hath any superior cause, which thing is only God. All other creatures, have their being of God, in so much as they are created, & conserved by him. God only, is unchangeable, incorruptible, and cause of his own everlasting being. That creature therefore, that seethe this, and hath a natural desire of being; when he seethe, that he can not have any being, and much less any good, and blessed being, in himself, or in any other creature; he turneth himself to God, with an humble, and devout mind, and setting himself to contemplate and behold his Creator and Conserver, the giver, maintainer, and increaser of all being, and blessedness, the everlasting fountain and spring of all goodness, which only is able to slake, the thirst of all his natural lusts and longynges, he beginneth to sigh towards him, and knowing him to be a most liberal and bowntifull giver, he is inflamed with the love of him, and so much the more, because he seethe, that of all the gifts, and benefits, that he receiveth at his hand, there returneth no commodity to the giver again, forsomuch as he is in himself, and of himself, the most high, perfect, and sufficient goodness. And thus increasing in knowledge, he cometh to understand, that as it is he that giveth and extolleth, so it is he also, that taketh away and abaseth, when his pleasure is. Whereupon he conceiveth, a certain holy fear, which is the guardian of the soul: by reason whereof he will not suffer any thing to pass from his heart, that may offend, so sweet, and bowntifull a giver. And withal he settleth himself, so fast upon his provident goodness, that whatsoever trouble, or adversity, befall him, he is nothing moved withal, but knoweth for certain, that almighty God, permitteth it to come upon him, for his salvation, either for his further instruction, or to make him to look better to himself, or to increase his merit, or else as a just punishment for some offence committed. Moreover, this consideration bringeth him to understand, that there is no labour, no travail, no affliction in this world so grievous, that may in any degree, seem worthy of that glorious reward, that he looketh for at the most bountiful hand of God. And therefore he looketh no more to himself, but only to the merciful goodness of God: in whom reposing himself, with a very sure affiance, and sweet love, he receiveth, even in this present life, a pledge and earnest penny, of the life to come. This was the first lesson, that the blessed virgin, learned of her spouse and master: the which she took of him very willingly, like a towardly scholar, and laid it up very charily, in the chest of her heart. This was the sure foundation, that the great workman laid in the soul of his dear spouse, upon the which he minded to make a perfect building of spiritual life.   

another goodly doctrine, by the which a soul is made pure and meet to ennjoye the familiarity of almighty God even in this life: with a miracle wrought by our Lord on the sea for confirmation of the same.  
Chap. 18.  
IT pleased almighty God, to teach this his scholar, an other very notable lesson, not unlike to that afore mentioned. On a time he appeared unto her, and said these words. Daughter, think on me, and I shall think on thee. The which words she took to be spoken in like sense (as she declared afterwards to her ghostly Father) as if our Lord had said in plain words unto her. Daughter, have no thought or care of thyself, neither bodily, nor ghostly; for I, that know what is behoveful for thee, better than thou dost thyself, will think upon thee, and provide with all care and diligence, for thy necessities. Only set thou thyself to think on me, for in that standeth thy perfection and final bliss. This is a great lesson, and undoubtedly very profitable to him, that would exercise it faithfully. For the will of God towards us (as the Apostle saith) is our sanctification, which consisteth in uniting ourselves to him by love: which love cannot be wrought in our wills, unless our heart be wholly discharged, of the cares of all earth lie things. Forsomuch as God is a thing of such excellency, that he deserveth, to dispossess our heart of all other things, that himself may enter, & take possession of it as the only rightful Lord, and owner of the same. But because he seethe, that we stand in need of many things, for the preservation of our body, which if we have not provided from time to time, it must needs decay: therefore he added furthermore, and said: and I will think on thee. Which words import so much, as those that he spoke to his disciples, when he willed them, to be careless for all earthly things, aperteining to the maintenance of the body, and to set their whole hope and affiance, in his provident goodness. For if it be so, that he provideth so dwely, for the necessary sustentation of birds in the air, of beasts, and worms in the earth, and of all other living things; if he have such a fatherly care to clad the very trees, plants, flowers, and other insensible creatures: how much greater care is it like, that he will have of man (for whose sake all these creatures were made) as being the most excellent creature, made unto the image of God, & specially choose, to have the joyful fruition of himself? She reasoned furthermore with Church men, & specially with Priests, and religious persons after this manner.  it is so, said she, that we have made a full resignation of ourselves unto God, first in Baptism, and afterwards when we entered into holy Orders, or took upon us the state of a religious life: surely there is no cause why we should be hovefull for ourselves in any thing, forsomuch as God, to whom we have resigned ourselves, both can, and will provide, whatsoever he knoweth to be behoveful for us. Wherefore our whole, and only care, aught to be, how to please and serve him. And that we must do, not only in respect of the reward, that we look for at his hand, but specially and principally, in consideration of the worthiness, of that blessed band of love and union, which is between us and him. In so much that the blessed state of life everlasting, is to be desired of us, not so much for itself, as because it uniteth us perfectly, and inseparably, to our beginning and original being, which is almighty God. It can not be expressed in words, what a great affiance, this holy maid conceived, of those words of our Saviour (And I will think on thee); in the which words, she took such a passing joy and delight, that she could never have her fill, of thinking and speaking of them. In so much, that she made a treatise, called a Dialogue, wherein she expressed, the wonderful fruits of the same; as they may well perceive, that read it, or rather to say better, that can pierce into the matter, and have a taste in it. She was wont also to say to Doctor Raimundus, her ghostly Father, and to other that were familiar with her: when she saw them dismayed and pensive, for any strange accident that chansed unto them. Leave all (said she) to God: what have you to do of yourselves? For you to take care for these things, is to take from God, his care and providence: as though he either would not, or could not, provide for you in all cases. Know you not, that he hath a greater care of you, than you have of yourselves? And that he is both able, and willing to award you from all evils? It chanced on a time, that Doctor Raimundus, and many other both men and women, were in a ship on the sea, among whom was this holy maid also: and when the night came on, they were in great peril (as the pilot said) to be carried, for lack of a good wind, into strange islands, and far countries. The which thing Doctor Raimundus, understanding, came to her, and spoke after a lamentable manner. Mother, said he, (for so they used to call her) see you not, in what danger we stand? To whom she made answer readily, and said. What have you to do of yourselves? With that Doctor Raimundus held his peace, & took a better comfort. And anon after, there blewe a contrary wind, which enforced the pilot (as he said) to return back again, which thing her ghostly Father went and declared unto her also. Whereunto she said: Let him turn the ship a God's name, and follow the wind that God sendeth. And so he did: and she in the mean time, bowed down her head, and made her prayer to God. And they kept not on that course, so far as a man would shoot an arrow, but that there came a gracious wind, that brought them to the haven that they desired, to their great wonder, and gladness, singing all with a joyful voice. Te Deum laudamus.   

Certain goodly sayings, which she was wont to use, to excite herself, and others, to the perfection of Charity.  
Chap. 19  
OFten times, when she conferred with her ghostly Father, and talked concerning the worthiness, and state of a soul, that loved God with a perfect charity, she was wont to utter this sentence. A soul (said she) that loveth God perfectly, never seethe, loveth, or remembreth, any other creature, neither itself, nor any other thing. The which saying, she declared more plainly after this manner. Such a soul, said she, seethe that of itself it is nothing, and that all her being, and welfare, dependeth of God only: in whom she findeth by experience, that all her felicity standeth, and in none other creature: and therefore she wholly forsaketh, both herself, and all other things, & doth as it were, plunge herself in the love of him, and directeth all her works, and thoughts, together with all the powers of her soul in him, according to the rule and direction, that she findeth in him. And without him, she listeth not to be, forsomuch as in him she findeth, all that the heart may delight in, all beauty, all sweetness, all quietness, & all peace. And so by this mean, there increaseth daily, a certain union, and straight band of love, between her and God; which in time, cometh to be so wonderfully wrought, that she is altogether, as it were, transformed into him. Whereupon it cometh to pass, that she can love, delight, think, and remember, none other thing, but only him. All other creatures she loveth, knoweth, and considerereth in him: even as a man doth, that diveth and swimmeth under the water, who seethe and feeleth nothing, that is not either water, or contained in the water. And if he see any thing, that is out of the water, he seethe it, not properly as it is in itself, but as the likeness of the same showeth in the water, and not otherwise. This is a very perfect and sure rule, by the which a man may make a just estimate, both of himself, and of all creatures, ground upon a most certain, and infallible truth, which is almighty God. Upon this she brought in an other Doctrine also, which she took such pleasure in, that she ceased not to repeat it again and again, as a thing very worthy to be noted. A soul, said she, that is thus plunged in the love of God, look how much she loveth God, so much she hateth herself, that is, her own sensuality, which is the root, and beginning of all sin, and from whence she seethe to arise, the cause of her separation from God, which is her whole felicity, and final perfection. The which thing when a soul preceiueth, she conceiveth a great misliking, which bringeth forth a certain holy hatred, against her own lusts, and withal an earnest desire, to kill the root of the same, which root is self love. But because she seethe, that the root is so deep, that it can not be utterly grubbed up, but that there will remain some piece of it, which will from time to time molest her: therefore doth she likewise, increase daily in this holy hatred, whereof is engendered, a certain fruitful despising, and setting at nought of herself; which by the force and virtue of the love of God, the overcomer of all dejection and confusion, riseth up with a greater hope & desire, and auanceth itself towards God: for whose love she is desirous to abide all pains, and roughness of discipline, hoping thereby to subdue all inordinate appitites, and proneness, to sin in herself, which are the lets and stays, that keep her from her desired joy, and union with God. And in this humble submission of herself, she receiveth an inward light of grace, by the which she cometh to see, and to acknowledge, the merciful goodness of God, who is evermore ready to pardon, and will not the death of a sinner, but rather that he turn and live. Which consideration, increaseth her love towards him passingly: and by love she purchaseth daily greater grace, strength, and fullness of peace in herself, and so goeth forward, in perfection of charity, until at the length it pleaseth God, to pluck her as a melowe apple, from this tree of bitterness, and to transpose her wholly into himself, who is the everlasting tree of sweetness and life. And thus is this holy hatred, the true keeper, and guardian of the soul, the fortress and sure castle, of a quiet and assured hope in God. This is that, which the holy Apostle meant, when he said: When I am weak, then am I strong. For our Lord had declared unto him, that strength is wrought in weakness. And therefore he saith also: I will gladly rejoice in mine infirmities, that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Now this infirmity was nothing else, but only that hatred of himself, that we here speak of: Which was caused in him, by the knowledge of that root of inordinate lusts, and of his weakness, and insufficiency to all good works, which he saw was in himself The which thing when he perceived, he waxed weak and feeble, that is, he despaired in himself, and acknowledging his own feebleness, yielded himself humbly, into the mighty hands of God, in whom only it lay, to cure his infirmity. Who like a loving Father, forthwith accepted that lowly resignation of himself, and laying his almighty hand upon him, made him strong in God, that was content to confess, how weak and in sufficient he was in himself. When this holy virgin spoke these, and other words to like purpose, she burst out, as it were of a certain inward joy and jubilee, that she felt in her spirit, and said; O wonderful goodness of God, how strangely dost thou dispose of of things! Out of vice, thou drawest virtue, out of weakness, strength, out of offence, great grace, and favour. O dear children, said she, have this holy hatred in yourselves; for out of it ariseth true meekness, and humility of heart: by reason whereof, you shall account all your works, and other things as smoke and vanities, and shall glory only in God. This holy hatred, shall make you to have a great moderation, and stay in prosperity, and withal a goodly quietness, and patience in adversity. It shall cause you to be modest, and comely in your conversation with men; gracious and acceptable, in all your works of piety before God. Many times also she would add furthermore, and say contrariwise. Woe be to that soul, in the which this holy hatred lodgeth not: for it can not be chosen, but that in such a soul there must needs reign self love, which is the root, fowndation, and sink of all inordinate lusts. And therefore, when she saw any sin, or vice, in any person, being moved with a certain compassion, she used often times to say. This is the fruit of self love, the mother of pride, and of all other evils. Do therefore (said she to her ghostly Father, and others) your uttermost endeavour, to grub it up out of your heart, and to plant in the same that holy hatred; for that is the kings high way, very certainly known, and well trodden: in the which all our defects, are perfectly corrected without any error, and by it we climb up to the mount of all virtues, in the highest perfection. Thus much saw the glorious Father S. Augustine, when he described two cities, the own founded upon the love of ourselves, which tendeth to the dishonour of God, and the other ground upon the love of God, which tendeth to the abbasing of ourselves.   

Of the strange battles, which she had against the devil: and how she armed herself with a strong faith, and other heavenly virtues, and so gate a most glorious victory over her enemy.  
Chap. 20.  
AFter that she had learned these lessons (which were many more, then are here specified) it pleased the wisdom of God, (who seethe, that his servants, do commonly take more good of their battles against the enemy, than they do in the time of peace) to suffer his humble handmaid, to enter a great combat with proud Satan. And because his will was, that she should overcome in that battle, he would, that besides the furniture, which he had given her before, she should now put on a special armour of Fortitude, to serve her against all the assaults of the enemy. The which though he were willing, to give her of his own more bowntifulnes, yet because he delighteth to be sought unto, and giveth his graces more willingly, when they are earnestly sought and instantly craved at is hand: therefore certain days, before this battle should begin, he put in the heart of his spouse, that she should humble herself before him in prayer, and crave the virtue of Fortitude. The which prayer our Lord answered effectually, and gave her both the virtue that she desired, and withal a very sweet lesson concerning the same, saying. Daughter, if thou wilt have the virtue of Fortitude, thou must endeavour to follow me. True it is, that I was able of mine own power, to overcome all the forces of the enemy, by diverse and sundry ways. But for your behoose and example, I chose rather to vanquish him, by dying upon the Cross: that you, that be only men, might learn, if you minded to encounter with the enemy, to take the Cross, as I did, and so by virtue of the same, to overcome all his wiles and strength. And be you well assured, that this Cross shallbe a refreshing unto you in your temptations, if you have mind of the pains, that I suffered on it for your sake. If you suffer for my love with me, you shallbe rewarded with me. And the more like you be to me in this life, in persecutions and pains, the more like shall you be to me in the life to come, in joy and rest. Embrace therefore, my dear daughter, embrace the Cross; receive all bitter things and adversities, with a willing and cheerful heart. And dread no power, neither of man, nor of the devil. For in whatsoever time or manner, they shall make any enforcement against thee, by this mean thou shalt easily withstand, & put back, all their violent attempts. When this good disciple of Christ, had heard this lesson, she forgot it not, but laid it up with a diligent regard in her memory; And evermore afterwards, she had passing great joy and delight, in bearing tribulation and adversity. In so much that there was nothing in the earth, that she took such inward comfort in, as she did in Crosses, troubles, and hard discipline. For she believed assuredly, that by troubles and vexations, she approached near unto her spouse, and was made like unto him: the which the longer they were, and more extreme, the greater weight of glory she knew, that they wrought in her for the time to come. Now, when our Lord saw, that his spouse was thus sufficiently furnished & armed, against all assaults, it seemed a fit time, to open the way to the enemy, and to permit him to come against her, with all his strength & malice. Satan saw, how much she profited in spiritual life: how lustily & stoutly she clymmed up to the mount of all perfection. He considered, that she was of the weaker kind, to wit, a woman, and withal of years very young and tender: all the which turned him to greater grief & confusion. He weighed also the great opinion, and ●ame of virtue, which men had conceived of her: by reason whereof, he saw, that in time he was in danger, to lose many souls, whereupon when he was permitted by God, he began to assiege this strong fortress, diverse and sundry ways. The first assaults, were very strange temptations of the flesh, in the which, sommetymes he formed in her fantasy (both waking and sleeping) illusions and dreams, which were wanton and unhonest; and sometimes he made certain corporal visions to appear unto her, forming bodies in the air, the which he caused to utter many words and gestures, which were very filthy and unseemly to be spoken. When the blessed virgin, heard and saw those things, she ran forthwith with great fear and horror (according to the doctrine that she had learned) to her iron chain, with the which, she beat her body so much, that the blood ran out in streams. And unto that rough discipline, she added further more so much watching, that in a manner she yielded no rest at all to her body. But the more she increased her austerity of discipline, the more did the enemy, busy himself, in renewing and multiplying his assaults, cawsing such visions to appear unto her, both more manifestly, and also in greater number; and sometimes they showed themselves, to have as it were, a certain pity, and compassion, on the great penance, that she put herself unto, and said unto her. Alas poor wretch, what meanest thou thus to torment thy body in vain? Weenest thou, that thou shalt be able to endure this hard discipline to the end? What gain shall it be to thee, if thou murder thyself? How much better were it for thee, to leave off this folly, before thou be utterly spent. Thou art yet a young woman, and the time of pleasure is not passed. Nature is not so decayed, but that thou mayest well recover, both thy strength & beauty, and so show among other women, and take a husband, and leave some increase to the world. Mayest thou not as well please God, in the holy state of matrimony, as in this barren and unfruitful state, that thou hast now taken? Hast not thou heard tell of Sara, Rebecca, Lia, Rachel, with many others, that lived very perfectly, and honourably, in the state of matrimony? Who hath brought thee, to enter into this singular trade of life, so hard and straight, that thou shalt never be able to hold out in it? All the while, that the enemies, were speaking these and other the like words unto her, she continued in prayer, and kept her heart pure from all uncleanness: and gave them not one word to answer, saving only, when they went about to bring her in despair of continuance, in that holy order of life, then would she say. I trust in my Lord jesus Christ, and not in myself. And they could never get other word of her. And therefore afterward, when she talked with her ghostly Father, and others, that conversed with her, she was wont to give them this lesson for a general rule, that when they had to deal with the enemy, tempting them to any manner of sin, they should never stand to reason, or dispute with him: forsomuch as he trusteth very much, in his malicious & sophistical subtleties, & if he may a little incline the will of man, he will soon induce his understanding to error. But the surest way in this case is, to deal as a true wife is wont to do, when she is moved by an adulterer to dishonesty: unto whom she maketh none answer, whatsoever he say, neither will she so much as look in his face, but forthwith turneth away from him, and so keepeth herself faithful and true, to her husband. And so did this chaste virgin to her spouse Christ: and by this mean she gate a great victory over her enemy, boring his ears, with the nail of a strong and faithful prayer. Howbeit, though he saw his first assault thus easily frustrate and put by, yet did he not cease, but moved an other battle against her, which was much more fierce and cruel than the foremer.   

How the enemy, accompanied, with a great multitude of unclean spirits, renewed his battarie against this strong Fortress, and used greater enforcement, than before.  
Chap. 21.  
WHen the unclean spirits saw, that this attempt took no place; but was by the grace of God easily overcome: they took diverse and sundry shapes of men and women, and setting themselves in such forms, before the eyes of the chaste virgin, they exercised most filthy acts of the flesh, and spoke very fowl words, and used all possible means to star up her mind and body to uncleanness. The which what a great grief it caused to her unspotted, and maidenly heart, those only are able to consider, that know, what a goodly treasure, a pure and chaste conversation is in the sight of God, and so consequently, what a great loss it is to be in danger to be spoiled of the same. It was also a great torment, and increase of heaviness, to her mind, to consider, that her dear spouse and Lord, who was wont afore to visit and comfort her oftentimes, seemed now, as though he had utterly forsaken her, and would no more relieve and secure her in her distress, although for her part she did what in her lay, knocking at the gate of his mercy with continual prayer, tears, and hard discipline upon her body. And when she saw, that he made no answer, she began to devise a certain new manner of sleight, to encounter with the enemy (how be it not without the secret instinct of God:) which was this. She conceived a marvelous great misliking of herself, and against her own sins, and so turning her indignation, as it were against herself, she uttered such words. Ah most vile wretch, lookest thou to receive comfort? Thinkest thou, that thy sins have deserved it at God's hand? O most unkind caitiff, is it not enough for thee, that thou art pardoned of the pains of hell? O unthankful creature, dost not thou take it to be gain enough, that the endless mercy of God, that changed those everlasting torments, into these temporal afflictions? Were it not a very gainful exchange for thee, though they should endure all the time of thy life? Wilt thou then be dismayed, and relent thy wont mortification, and discipline, knowing, that by theses means, thou shalt escape endless pains, and within a short time, receive endless joy and comfort at the hand of thy dear spouse jesus Christ? By this mayest thou try, whether thou have chosen to serve God for these temporal visitations and comforts, or else in hope of that everlasting bless, and joyful fruition of himself, in the life to come. A wake therefore, take a good heart, fight manfully, and expect with patience, the good will and pleasure of God. Now is the time for thee, to increase to thyself, labour and pain, and to his holy name honour and glory. It can not be expressed in words, how much she was strengthened in soul by this mean, and contrariwise how much the proud enemy, was by the same confownded, and weakened. She confessed afterwards to her ghostly Father, that there was such a rabble of those fowl fiends at that time in her chamber, moving her diverse and sundry ways to uncleanness, that she was enforced for a time, to flee from her chamber to the Church, and there to keep more than she was wont to do. How be it even in the Church also, she was molested, thought not so much as before in her chamber. Whether when she returned afterwards, she was again so beset with such a company of unclean spirits, representing there before her so many acts of filthiness, and that with so great importunity and strange manners, that it was a very miracle, how she was able to sustain the same. But she forth with falling down to the earth, & there lying groveling on her face in prayer, besought God of his mercy, with such mighty sighs, and groans, that in contemplation of her pitiful cry, he somewhat assuaged the fury of those fowl fiends. And so continuing in such afflictions, and troubles, a great number of days, at the length, when at a time coming from the Church, and lying after such a manner in her chamber, she made her earnest prayer unto God, craving his merciful aid and assistance, there appeared a certain comfortable beam of the holy Ghost, which brought unto her remembrance the goodly lesson, that our Lord had thought her before, when she prayed unto him, for the gift of Fortitude. And so understanding that all, that was there done, was only the tentation of the enemy, she received great joy in her heart, and determined from that day forward, to suffer meekly, & gladly, all manner of temptations and afflictions, for the love of her spouse jesus Christ. Then one of those wicked spirits, (who was peradventure of greater boldness, and malice, than the rest) spoke unto her after this manner. Wretched woman, what meanest thou? Thinkest thou evermore to lead such a state of life, as this is? Make thyself well assured of this: We shall never give thee one hour of respite, but shall pain, and vex thee continually, until thou yield, and consent, unto our will. Unto whom she made answer out of hand, with a great courage and affiance in God, and said; I have chosen pain for my refreshing: and therefore it shall not be yrckesome to me, but rather pleasant and delightful, to suffer these, and all other afflictions, for the love of my Lord and Saviour, so long and so much, as shall please his divine majesty. With that word, all that detestable company of unclean spirits, vanished quite away, with a very dreadful, & horrible noise. And behold forth with, there appeared a marvelous goodly light from heaven, which shone all over her chamber, and in that light our Saviour Christ, in such form, and manner, as he was, when he hung upon the Cross, and there shed his most precious blood, for the redemption of the world. Who called her unto him, and and said these words. Mine own daughter Catherine, seest thou not, what I have suffered for thy sake? Think it not much therefore, to suffer for me. After that, he approached nearer unto her in an other form to comfort her, and spoke unto her, many sweet and loving words, and she likewise to him. O Lord (said she, using the words of S. Antony) where wert thou, when my heart was so vexed, with soul and loathsome temptations. Daughter, said he, I was in thine heart. Then said she again. O Lord, saving always thy truth, and my dutiful reverence to thy divine Majesty, how is it possible, that thou shouldest dwell in an heart, replenished with so many filthy, and shameful thoughts? Whereunto our Saviour said. Tell me daughter; Those unclean thoughts, did they cause in thy heart grief or delight? No, said she, they caused very great grief, and sorrow. Who then, said our Lord, was he, that caused that grief and misliking in thine heart? Who was it, but only I, that lay secretly within, in the middle of thy soul? Assure thyself of this. If I had not been there present, those fowl thoughts, that stood round about thine heart, seeking means to enter (but evermore with the repu●●e) had without all doubt prevailed, and made their entry into thy soul, with full consent of thy will and sinful delight. But my presence was it, that caused that misliking in thine heart, and moved thee, to make resistance against those fowl temptations: the which thy heart refused so much as it could; & because it could not do so much, as it would, it conceived a greater displeasure, both against them, and also against itself. It was my gracious presence, that wrought all these goodly effects in thine heart: wherein I took great delight, to see my love, my holy fear, and the zeal of my faith, planted in thy soul, my dear daughter and spouse. And so, when I saw my time (which was, when thou hadst through my grace and assistance thoroughly vanquished the pride and insolency of thine enemy) I sent out certain external beams of my light, that put these dark fiends to flight. For by course of nature, darkness may not abide, where light is last of all, by my light, I gave thee to understand, that those pains were thy great merit, gain, and increase of the virtue of Fortitude. And because thou offeredst thyself willingly to suffer for my love, taking such pains with a cheerful heart, and esteeming them as a recreation, according to my doctrine: therefore my will and pleasure was, that they should endure no longer. And so I showed myself: where upon they vanished quite away. My daughter, I delight not in the pains of my servants, but in their good will, and readiness, to suffer patiently, and gladly for my sake. And because such patience, and willingness, is showed in pains and adversity, therefore do I suffer them, to endure the same. Take this similitude of my body. At what time my body hung upon the Cross in extreme pains and torments, and afterwards when it lay dead upon the ground, no man could ever have thought, that all that notwithstanding, there had been in it hiden that true life, that giveth life and moving, to every living thing. And yet so it was by reason of the inseparable union, that was, and is, between my Godhead and human nature: though not so understood of men, no, not of mine own Apostles and disciples, that had conversed with me a long tyme. Now, as at that time, when my body lay there dead, void of sense, and without all outward show of any inward power, there was not withstanding in it, a divine power able to quiken and give life to other creatures, no less than afterwards, when it was raised from death, and endued with the glorious gifts of immortal life: even so (though after a different manner) do I dwell in the souls of my faithful servants, at one time covertly, and without showing myself, for their exercise & further merit, and at an other time openly and without covert, for their comfort and joy. In this the time of thy battle, I was in thine heart, arming and fortifying thee with my grace, against the force of the enemy, but covertly, for to exercise thy patience and increase of merit. But now, that thou hast through my grace, fought out thy battle manfully, and vanquished the enemy, I give thee to understand, that I am and willbe in thine heart more openly, yea and withal, more often for thy comfort. And with these words, that blessed vision ended: at what time the holy virgin was left, replenished with such abundance of joy, and sweetness, that no pen is able to describe it. And specially she took passing great comfort in that, that our Lord called her, Mine own daughter Catherine. And therefore she entreated her ghostly Father, that when he spoke unto her, he would use the self same words, and say, My daughter Catherine: to the end that, by the often repetition of those words, she might often times renew the inward sweetness, that she felt in her heart, of those joyous words of her Dear Lord and spouse.   

How our Lord, with diverse other Saints, visited her oftentimes very familiarly; And how he taught her to read by miracle.  
Chap. 22.  
FRom that time forward, it pleased our Lord, to use a very unwonted familiarity with her, and to visit her both very often, and very lovingly, even as one friend, is wont to visit an other: coming to her sometimes himself alone, sometimes bringing with him his most blessed mother, the virgin Marie, some times the holy patriarch S. Dominicke, sometimes also with his mother S. Marie Magdalene, S. john the Evangelist, the Apostle S. Paul, and other Saints, whom he brought with him, sometimes all together, and sometimes again, some one or else some few of them, according as his pleasure was. For the most part, he came alone, and conferred with her, even as one familiar is wont to do with an other. In so much, that many times they walked up and down in her chamber together, and said the psalms, or divine service together, as though they had been two clerks, or religious people. Which may seem a very strange thing, and so much the more, if it be considered withal, that she never learned to read, by the teaching of any man, or woman; for (as she declared to her ghostly Father) she had a great desire to learn her matins: and therefore on a time, she besought one of her sisters, to geat her an A. B. C. and to teach her the letters. But when she had travailed about the same, a certain of weeks, and saw that she did but lose her time: she thought good to give over that course, and to set herself again, to her customable exercises, of prayer and meditation. And one time lying prostrate on the ground, she made her prayer after this manner. Lord, if it be not thy holy will and pleasure, that I shall attain the knowledge of reading, I am very well content, for thy love, to continue in my ignorance, and to spend my time, in such simple meditations, as it shall please thee to grant me; But if thou wouldst vowchsafe, to show me so much favour, as that I might be able to read, and sing the divine service, I would be right glad, also to serve thee in such manner. It is a wonderful thing to report, that she had no sooner ended her prayer, but that she was forthwith able to read as readily, as one that had been trained long time in the study of learning. Whereat her ghostly Father, was marvelously astoined: forsomuch as it was well known to all, that conversed with her, that before that time, she could not only not read, or spell, but also very hardly know one letter from an other. After this time she gate her books of Church service, and began to say her Matins, and other Canonical hours: in the which she noted disigently the verses of the psalms, but especially that verse, that is used commonly in the beginning of every hour, to wit, Deus in adiutorium meum intend: Domine ad adiwandum me festina: and kept the same in her mind, with a special regard to her lives end.   

How she increased so much in heavenly contemplations, that she was often times ravished in the same: and how she was espoused to our Saviour Christ with a Ring.  
Chap. 23.  
AFter this time, increasing daily in heavenly contemplations, she was at the length enforced, almost to give over all vocal prayer: because she was no soener set to pray, but that forthwith, she was so much elevated in the height of her spirit, and so ravished from her bodily senses, that she might scantly endure, to end one Pater noster. Whereupon having an earnest desire in her heart, to have yet a further increase of perfection, in spiritual life, and to climb up, to the highest point of charity, she made her petition unto almighty God, in most humble manner, that it would please him to give her such a light of faith, that being guided by the same, she might from that time forward, walk surely and without alteration, in the paths of his holy commandments, and make resistance, against all the attempts of of the enemy. The which request, our Lord took in good part and answered very comfortably, and sweetly, saying these words. I will make thee my spouse in faith. And evermore, as she increased in desire, and multiplied her prayer, so heard she the same sentence repeated and confirmed by our Lord, saying unto her: I will make thee my spouse in faith. At the last it happened, a little before the beginning of lent, in the shroving days (at what time men are wont of a corrupt custom to gather together after a sinful manner, and to give themselves overmuch to belly cheer) that this wise virgin, sequestered herself from all company, and closing herself up all alone in her cell, she besought our Lord, with great austerity of life, with long fasting, continual watching, and fervent prayer, that he would vowchsafe to perform his promise, in giving her that perfection of faith, that she so much desired. While she was thus praying, with great fervour of mind, and instance, behold our Lord appeared unto her, after a very comfortable manner, and said these words. Because thou hast forsaken all the vanities of the world, and set thy love upon me, and because thou hast for my sake, rather chosen to afflict thy body with fasting, then to eat flesh with others, especially at this time, when all other that dwell round about thee, yea and those also that dwell in the same house with thee, do banquet, & make great feasts: therefore I am determined this day, to keep a solemn feast with thee, and with great joy, and pomp, to spouse thy soul to me in faith. As our Lord was speaking these words, there appeared in the same place, the most glorious virgin Marry mother of God, the beloved disciple S. john the evangelist, the great trumpet of the holy Ghost S. Paul the Apostle, and the most worthy patriarch & fownder of her order, S. Dominicke: and after these, came the kingly prophet, and poet David, with a musical psalter in his hand, on the which he played a heavenly song of inestimable sweetness, in the ears of the new spouse. Then our blessed Lady came to her, and took her by the hand: and withal, stretched out her fingers, towards her Son, with a very comely grace and besought him that he would vowchsafe, to spouse her to himself in faith. Whereunto he assented forthwith, with a very sweet, and lovely countenance, and taking out a ring, that was set about with four precious pearls, and had in the other part, a marvelous rich diamant, put the same on the finger of her right hand. saying thus. Behold. I here spouse thee to me thy Maker and Saviour, in faith: Which shall continue in thee, from this time forward evermore, without any change or alteration, until the time come that thou shalt consummate the same with me, in a most perfect, and blissful conjunction, in the joys of heaven. Wherefore from hence forth, bear thyself stoutly, and be not dismayed, for thou art now armed with the armour of faith, by the virtue whereof thou shalt withstand, and overcome, all the assaults of the enemy. And with that, this vision vanished away, and left her replenished, with such joy, and sweetness, that no tongue is able to express it.   

Certain proofs, of the holiness of this blessed virgin, declaring the aforementioned straight friendship, and familiarity, between our Lord and her, to be a thing undoubted.  
Chap. 24.  
IT may be, that many of the things mentioned before in this book, may seem to to some men very strange, and almost incredible. And no marvel: for why, so they seemed even at that time to many men, not only of such as had little acqueintance with her, but of those also, that lived familiarly with her: who as they were much induced to think reverently of her, by seeing her virtuous, and holy conversation: so contrariwise they were put in great doubt, and perplexity, by reason of the things, that she did. Among others, that cast such doubts, was doctor Raimundus her ghostly Father, a great learned, and wise man; who at the beginning of his familiarity with her could not resolve, whether those wonderful things, that he heard, and saw in her, were true, or counterfeicte, and whether they proceeded of God, or of the devil. While he stood thus in doubt, and had a great desire to be resolved in the matter, because it stood him upon (being her ghostly Father) neither to deceive, nor to be deceived, but to judge aright of spirits: it came to his mind, that if he could by her means, and intercession, obtain for himself, a true Contrition of all his sins (such as he never had before) together with a perfect sorrow for the same, and earnest desire to make a full Satisfaction in the sight of God, and that he might perceive sensibly, that all that came to him by her means: he would take that, for a most certain, and infallible token, that whatsoever she had done, was the work of God, and not of Satan, transfiguring himself into an Angel of light. And this trial liked him very well, because being learned in the study of divinity, he knew, that the devil could not possibly be the author of true Contrition to any man, and that it is not in the power of any creature, but only of God, to move the heart of man, to what him listeth. And so with this intent he went unto her, & without declaring any thing particularly, he desired her, that she would do him a pleasure. What pleasure, said she? forsoouth, said he, that you would be a mean to your spouse for me, that he of his great mercy, would pardon me all my sins. Whereunto she made answer, with a cheerful countenance (as casting no doubt at all of the effect) that she would do it. Then said he again. Daughter, I thank you for this. But yet thus much I must tell you more; That unless you procure me, some good assurance of the same, you do me no pleasure at all. What assurance would you require, said she? I would require, said he, that I might have a full Pardon, and a Bull drawn upon the same, after the manner of the court of Rome. With that she smiled sweetly, and asked him, what manner of Bull he would have. The Bull, said he, that I desire, is, that I may feel in myself, a certain deep, and perfect Contrition of my sins, beyond the common course. At that word she gave him such a comfortable look, that it seemed to him, that she had entered into all the secrets of his heart. Well, said she, such a Bull shall you have also. And so they parted: for the day was almost spent. The next morning doctor Raimundus was taken after his customable manner with certain infirmities, which were notwithstanding very grievous, and as then so painful unto him, that he was enforced to keep his bed. There was at that time about him, brother Nicolas of Pisa▪ a very religious man, and one that he loved dearly. The place, where he lay, was a Monastery of Nuns, of S. Dominickes order, not far from the lodging of this holy maid: who saw right well in spirit, in what case doctor Raimundus was, and said to her companion. Come, let us go to visit our father doctor Raimundus: for he is sick: what will you do, said she? ye are in worse case than he. But she forthwith set herself in the way with her companion, and making more haste, than she was wont to do at other times, came upon him suddenly ●● lying in his bed, and said; Father, how is it with you? Which was to him so unlooked for, that he had no time to talk with his brother, and to take order for things, as he would have done if he had known of her coming. And scantly could he answer her and say, that he was sorry, that she should take such pains in coming to him, being herself in far weaker state, than he was, but that she was entered, without any further circumstances, into an high discourse (as her manner was) of heavenly matters, of God, and of his benefits bestowed upon his creatures; and contrariwise, of our ungratefulness towards him, and proneness to offend such a good, and bowntiful Lord. Which words were spoken, with such grace, that he felt, that his heart was strangely drawn, by the virtue of the same, and that it received great comfort. And so for manners sake, he caused himself to be taken out of the bed, were he lay, and to be set on an other lower couch, nearer to her. Who went on with her discourse: & he never thought of his petition, made unto her over night, concerning the Bull: but was carried away, with the efficacy & strength of her words; which pierced his heart, like sharp darts. Whereupon, his mind being thus forcibly driven, and entering at the length into a certain deep, and inward consideration of his sins, (such as he never had in his life before) there was represented unto him, i● a most clear vision, the judgement seat of Christ; before whom, being arraigned & accused, and acknowledging himself guilty, he heard a sentence of everlasting damnation pronounced against himself, which, he confessed, he had deserved by the order of God's justice. This sentence he heard openly read, and he saw withal, a preparation made for his execution in such order & manner, as is wont to be, when malefactors, or thieves, are condemned to the gallows. At the length, when this dreadful, and horrible vision, had continued a good space, our Saviour appeared again unto him, not like a terrible judge, but like a pitiful Father: & whereas he was naked he clad him with his own garments, lead him into his house, gave him to eat and drink plentifully, made very much of him, accepted him into his family, as one of his howsehold servants, and changed the sentence of everlasting death, into a firm promise of everlasting life. The which when he saw, and considered inwardly with himself, first the deformity of his sins, and danger that he was in, and then the merciful goodness of our Saviour, that received him again so lovingly: he burst out into groaning, sobbing, sighing, and weeping so abundantly, that in all his life time, there never happened the like unto him. The holy maid, that was by, all this while, & saw, how the medicine wrought, began then to hold her peace, and to let him alone for a good time, that he might have his fill of weeping & Contrition. And when she saw her time, she spoke to him again, and said. Father; I pray you, give over this manner of reading, and consider well of the tenor of the Bull. The Bull, said he? And with that turning himself towards her, he said. Ah daughter, may this be the Bull, that I required of you yester evening? This is it, good Father, said she. Wherefore be ye mindful of the benefits of God. That said, she took her leave forthwith, & went her way. Doctor Raimundus her ghostly Father, declared yet, an other very evident sign, of her great holiness, and familiarity, with almighty God; which was this. Being on a time very sick, and feeble, she laid her down (as her manner was) upon her boards. Where having diverse and sundry revelations, she caused her ghostie Father to be sent for, that she might impart the same to him. So soon as he was come, she began, after her accustomable manner, to speak of God, & to recite unto him many things, & namely those things, that our Lord had vowchsafed to show unto her at shrofte whereof we spoke a little before. When he heard the things, that she reported, and considered of the greatness of the same, in comparison of that he had read of other Saints: he said thus in his mind. Is it possible, that all this should be true, that she saith? And with that looking steadfastly upon her, he saw her face suddenly transformed into the face of a man: who likewise set his eyes steadfastly upon him, and gave him a marvelous dreadful look. The face, that he saw, was somewhat long: he showed like a man of middle age: his beard was of the colour of ripe wheat, that is, between red and yellow: his countenance was very comely, reverend, & full of majesty. And for a little time he saw that face only, and could see none other thing: which put him in such a fear, and terror, that casting up his hands above his shoulders, he cried with a loud voice, and said. Oh Lord, who is this, that looketh thus upon me? It is he (said she) that is. And with that she came again to her own form. These and other the like things did doctor Raimundus her ghostly Father, report of his own experience: all which he affirmed to be most certainly true, with a very great, and earnest protestation.    

THE SECOND PART.  

How the spouse of Christ, was made by little and little, to show herself to the world.  
Chap. 1.  
AFter that our Saviour Christ, had thus espoused this holy virgin to himself, and beawtified her with many graces, and gifts: his will & pleasure was, that she should from that time forward, by little, and little, show herself to the world; that the grain, that had now lain hidden in the ground a convenient time, and was sufficiently mortified, might bud, flower, and bring forth the fruit of many excellent virtues, to the comfort of men. Wherefore on a time, when he had showed her many mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, and had taught her also to say the Psalms, and Canonical hours with himself (as is declared before) he bade her, that she should go down to eat with others, and then return to him again. When she heard that, she sobbed and wept, & fell down at his feet after a very pitiful manner, and said unto him. O most sweet jesus, why wilt thou put me away from thee? If I have offended thy divine Majesty, behold here my body at thy feet, lay what penance it shall please thee upon it, and I will help with all my heart. Only this I beseech thee, let me not be so sharply punished, as to be sundered from thy blessed presence. What have I to do with their meats? I have meat to eat, that they know not of. Oh my good Lord, wherefore dost thou will me, to go to eat with them? Doth man live of bread only, and not rather, and better, of every word, that cometh out of thy mouth? Art not thou he, my dear Lord, that hast caused me to eschew the conversation of men? that I might the better converse with thee? And now that I have found thee, without any desert on my part, only of thy mere liberality and goodness, shall I be so unhappy, as to forsake such a goodly treasure, for to return to the conversation of men, and so to dim the purity and clearness of my faith? Suffer not that, O my dear spouse and Lord, for thine infinity goodness. When she had thus powered out her heart before our Lord, pitifully sobbing and weeping, and lying prostrate at his feet, he, like a merciful Lord, gave her very sweet words again, and said. My dear daughter, leave the care of thyself to me. It is meet, that thou do fulfil all righteousness. Which thou canst not do, unless thou be fruitful and profitable, not only to thyself, but also to others. Think not, my good daughter, that it is my meaning to separate thee from me, but rather to unite thy heart more firmly unto me. Knowest thou not, that all the law and prophets stand of two points, to wit, of the love of God, and of the love of thy neighbour? Wherefore to make thee perfect, my will is, that thou exercise thyself in the love of thy neighbour, with great compassion and mercy, that thou mayest fly up to heaven, not with one wing, but with two. Call to mind the zeal that thou hadst of winning souls, which, I planted in thy heart, even in thine infancy: at what time thou hadst a desire to change thine habit, and to clad thyself like a man, that thou mightest be received into the order of the friars Preachers. Remember, that this habit, which thou wearest, is the habit of thy father S. Dominicke, and was given unto thee by my dear mother, namely for a special love and affection, that thou barest unto him, for the great travail, that he sustained in winning of souls. Behold, I do now dispose, and ordain thee, to that end, that thou didst through my secret inspiration so much desire in thy youth. I dispose thee to that function, that my Father disposed me unto in the earth; I ordain thee to that ministery, that I ordained my beloved Apostles and disciples unto before I departed from them on the earth. And all this I do for thy further merit and greater crown. At these words the humble virgin took great comfort, and bowing down her head with all submission, said. O Lord thy will be done in all things, and not mine, for thou art light, and I am darkness, thou art he that is: and I am she, that is not; But yet I beseech thee, my Lord God, let me be so bold, as to ask, how I a wretched & vile woman, should be able to do any good in thy Church. How shall I being a simple woman, be able to instruct wise and learned men? How shall it be seemly for me, to live and converse among men? Unto that our Saviour answered and said. Who is he, that created man, & made a distinction between man & woman? was it not I? If I then be the creator of man & woman, what law may restrain me, that I shall not do with my creatures, what I shall think good? Can my power be limited, that I shall not dispose of man and woman, of learned and unlearned, of noble and base according to my will? Touching thy question therefore, which is, how a woman, that is the weaker vessel, should be an able and sufficient mean to edify men, with doctrine and example: because I know, that this thy demand proceedeth, not of any lack of faith in my almighty power, but only of an humble consideration, of thine own weakness and frailty: I will impart unto thee my secret in this behalf. Daughter, it is so, that now a days there aboundeth such pride in the world (and specially in those that hold themselves for learned and wise) that my justice can no longer bear it; But because my mercy is above all my works: as I have determined to do justice upon this heinous sin, so have I also provided a sovereign medicine against the same, to as many as will accept it. The proper medicine and punishment of pride, is to be confounded and brought to shame. And therefore my deliberation is, that these men, that are wise in their own conceit, shallbe made ashamed, and controlled in their own judgement, when they shall see those creatures, that they account vile and abject (as frail and weak women) to understand the hidden mysteries of God, not by human study, but only by grace infused, and to show the same to the world, both by word and example of life, and for confirmation of such doctrine, to work many strange signs, wonders, and miracles above the course of nature. I will do now, as I did, when I was conversant in the world: at what time I sent simple men, idiots, and fishers (but replenished with heavenly knowledge, and strength of my spirit) to control the wisdom of the world: so will I send thee at this time, and other ignorant people, both men and women to confownd the pride of those, that are wise in their own eyes. The which confusion if they receive, and humble themselves before me, confessing that all wisdom & power is mine: if they will reverently embrace my doctrine, spread, throughout the world by such weak & frail vessels, I will have mercy upon them, and give them a further increase of grace: and their confusion, shallbe to them a medicine unto everlasting salvation. But if they refuse to receive this medicine, and will needs follow on in their old course, despising my holy word, & persecuting my belowed servants, and friends: I shall bring them to such confusion, that the whole world shall despise them, and set them all at nought. And if after such temporal confusion in this world they show themselves stiff necked, and unrecoverable: I will adiuge them moreover to everlasting confusion in the world to come: Where, with great bitterness of heart, and penance without fruit, they shall see themselves so much depressed, and holden down underneath themselves, as they had a desire in this life, to be magnified and exalted above themselves. Wherefore, daughter, set thyself in a readiness, to be sent out into the world: for I willbe with thee at all times, and in all places; I will visit thee, and direct thee in all things, that I shall send thee to do. When she heard that, she bowed down her head with great reverence, and went down (as our Lord had willed her) to eat with the rest of the howsehold: with whom she continued for that time bodily, but her heart was fixed in God. And whatsoever she saw or heard, of wordly affairs, was tedious and yrckesome unto her: and therefore so soon as she might conveniently, she withdrew herself out of all company, and returned again to her Cell, that she might there with the greater quetnes, enjoy the desired presence of him, in whom she had reposed her whole love and felicity. From that time forward, there grew in her, a passing great desire of receiving the blessed Sacrament, of the body and blood of Christ: whereby she believed faithfully, that she should receive a further increase of grace, and be united to God: not only with the union of spirit, but also (after a sort) with a blessed conjunction of bodies, while she received his most blessed body into her body.   

Of her virtuous and lowclie conversation among men, and how she would debase herself, to do the vilest services in the house. Of many strange visitations, excesses, and trawnses, which she had in the presence of many.  
Chap. 2.  
BEing thus appointed by the express commandment of God, to spend some part of her life in the company of men, that her conversation might be the more fruitful to them, in all her doings she showed, a marvelous profownd, and sincere humility, & withal a very earnest, & hearty zeal, to the honour of God, & to the edifying of all such, as happened to converse with her. For show of a great humility, she set herself with a very willing and cheerful mind, to do all the vilest & foulest services in the house, as to sweep the house, to scour vessels, to wash dishes, and to do other more base and loathsome services than these, such as do properly appertain to abject servants and drudges. And it pleased God also, that the servant of the house should be often sick: by reason whereof, her charge & travail was doubled; For it lay upon her, both to serve the whole howsehold, & withal to have a very special and diligent regard, to the servant that was sick. All the which notwithstanding, she would find a time, to give herself to her wont exercises, of prayer and penance, and to continue (as it were with certain enterteinementes) her love and familiarity, with her spouse; who, to answer her love, visited her also by evident miracle, diverse and sundry times in the presence of all that lived in house with her. While she was occupied about the services of the house, it happened very often, that she was in a trawnce: at what time her body was lifted up into the air, and hung there without any thing to stay it up, even as a piece of iron, is wont to hang at the adamant stone. And as we see, that fire doth naturally tend upward: even so was it made in a sort almost natural to her, (by reason of the heavenly fire, with the which her heart was wholly inflamed) to be carried up towards Christ her spouse, in whom only her spirit found rest. In the time, while she was in such trawnces, (which happened very often unto her) it was evidently seen, by as many as chanced then to be present, that her soul did withdraw itself from the bodily senses, and that it did so forsake the body, that her hands & feet were drawn together: in so much that if they happened to latch at any thing, they held it so fast, that ye might sooner break them, than sunder them from the thing, of the which they took hold. Her eyes were closed up: her neck was stiff like an horn: and it was no small danger, once to touch her in that time, (though it were done never so gently.) Her mother on a time standing by, assayed to set her neck strait (for it seemed to her, that it stood a little awry.) But, as God would have it, one of the sisters, that was then present, & understood the danger of the same, cried out unto her, and bade her in any case, that she should not do it. And anon after, when she came to herself again, she felt her neck so sore, as if it had been beaten with a staff. And she said furthermore to doctor Raimundus her ghostly Father, that if her mother had put a little more strength unto it, she had without all doubt broken her neck.   

How being in a trawnse, she fell into the fire, and continued there a good while without any harm.  
Chap. 3.  
IT happened on a day, that this holy maid was turning the spit, at a hot fire of coals, to roast a piece of meat for the howsehold. At what time, being herself roasted within, with a far hotter fire of the spirit of God, then was that fire, that roasted the meat on the spit, she was ravished in soul, and taken away from her bodily senses: by reason whereof the spit stood still. The which thing her brother's wife, called Lysa perceiving and knowing right well the conditions of the holy maid, took the spit out of her hand, & let her alone. When the meat was ready, the howsehold set themselves at the table, and taking a convenient time for their repast, saw all that while that she continued still in her trawnce. After supper, Lisander determined with herself, that she would tarry by her, to see the end. At the length, when bed time was come, she went speedily, and brought her husband and children to bed, and coming again to see what would become of her, espied before she came at her, that she was fallen into the fire of hot burning coals. Which sudden sight made her so afraid, that she scright out as loud as she could, and said; Alas, Alas, Catherine is all burnt. And with that she ran to her, & caught her out of the fire. Which done, behold, viewing her diligently on all sides, to quench the fire if any had been, she saw, that the fire had done her no harm, neither to her body, nor to her clothes: in so much that, there was not so much as any savour of burning (as there is wont to be when cloth is burnt) not yet (which is most of all) any ashes remaining upon any part of her garments. And yet was it a great fire, and she a long time in it. But the fire of God's holy love, that burned inwardly in her heart, was of such force and virtue, that it would not suffer that outward fire to prevail over her.   

Of diverse and sundry miracles, like unto this afore written. And how it pleased our Saviour Christ, to give the enemy power over her body.  
Chap. 4.  
WHile she was praying on a day at Sienna in S. Dominickes Church, her spirit being ravished (as it happened often times) in her contemplation, she leaned her head to a pillar, upon the which pillar there was a wax candle set up in the honour of some Saint, that was there. While she was thus in a trawnce, it chanced that candle to fall down upon her head: where it continued burning, until such time as it was all wasted, and did her no manner of harm or displeasure, neither to her head, neither, to the veils or wimples, that she ware on her head. The like happened unto her in many other places, where she chanced to be, to the great horror and trouble, of diverse and sundry devout people, that happened to be present: And namely, when she went about some charitable work, of edifying and bringing souls to God, then was the malice of the ghostly enemy, most busy to hinder her good purposes. As it was seen one time, when she was so occupied, that the malicious fiend took her (by the permission of God) and cast her violently into the middle of a fire. The which thing certain good folks, that were then about her, seeing, and having great pity and fear of her case, cried out, and made towards her as fast as they could, to take her out of the fire. But she, before they came, rose up of herself, without any hurt or blemish in the world: and looking up upon them with a smile countenance, said unto them. Be not afraid: for it is the work of Malatasca. By the which word she meant the devil: for so she used to call him. On an other time, while she was lying upon her couch, the fiend took her, and cast her headlong into an earthen pan of coals, that stood thereby, in such sort, that the first thing, that light on the pan, was her head. And he did it with such fury and rage, that the pan was broken in pieces, but she not the worse of one hear of her head. And so she set herself up again, and smile to an honest woman, that was then present (called Gabriel) she said unto her merrily. Lo, will ye see, what work Malatasca maketh here? These and other the like things, that happened to this holy maid in very many places, may seem peradventure strange and almost incredible to some man, that looketh only to the things here presently declared: & he may think it unreasonable, that almighty God should suffer the body of one, that he loveth so tenderly, to be yielded up for a time, into the rough & violent hands of the fiend; But if he will call to mind. what hath happened in fore times to many holy men and women, and specially to our Saviour Christ himself (who suffered his own body, to be carried by the devil into an high mountain, and to a pinnacle of the temple) he shall not marvel, to see the malicious enemy, to have now the like power over the Disciples, as he had then over the master.   

What a charitable affection, and great care, she had of the poor; And of a pleasant matter, that fell out about the same.  
Chap. 5.  
THis holy maid, finding by experience, that the more bowntiful and charitable she showed herself towards her even Christians, the more gracious and acceptable she was in the sight of Christ hirspowse, conceived a marvelous great and earnest desire in her heart, of succouring the poor and needy. And that she did very liberally, even with temporal things. But having no mean to do it (because she was religious, & had vowed voluntaire poverty) she besought her father with great humility & instance, that he would give her leave, to give some part of the goods, that God had bestowed upon him, in alms to the poor according to her conscience. The which demand he granted very willingly, because he was very well assured, that her meaning in that, and all other things, was very perfect and sincere. Whereupon he gave straight commandment also to as many as were in his house, that none should be so hardy as to control her, but to let her to give out freely, though she gave all that was in his house. As soon as she had obtained this grant, she began to deal out her father's goods to the poor largely: not to every one that would ask, without discretion, but only to such, as she knew were in great need and distress, though they asked not. Among other, she understood of two families, that stood in great need, and yet were ashamed to beg of whom she took great pity; and therefore rising one day very timely in the morning, she loaded herself with corn, wine, oil, and other things necessary, and carried the same towards the houses, of those poor folks. Whether when she came, as God would have it, she found the doors, open: & so set down her provision within the doors, and pulling to the door after her slancke away privily, & gate her home again as fast as she could. At an other time, this holy maid was swollen in all parts of her body, from the top of her head to the sole of her foot, in such sort, that she could neither sit nor stand, nor yet lie in her bed, without great pain. At what time, hearing of a poor widow that lived in great distress, and lack of necessary sustenance, for herself, & for her children, being moved with inward compassion of their wretched state, she made her humble petition to our Lord the next night, that he would vowchsafe to lend her so much strength of body for a little time, as that she might be able to go & secure that poor woman. Anon after, feeling herself marvelously well comforted, she rose up early in the morning, and filled her sack with corn; she took two great flascats also, one of wine, and an other of oil: and withal, whatsoever she found in the house meet to be eaten. And when she had laid this provision together, thinking it impossible to carry it all at once to the widoes house, which was far from thence (& the things weighed no less than an hundred pounds) she cast up her heart to her spouse, and besought him of his gracious assistance. That done, she began to try with a stout heart, what she was able to do. Some part she laid upon her shoulders, some she trussed under her girdle, some she carried in her right hand, and some in her left. And when she had loaded herself with all this burden, she felt no more of it, then if it had been a wad or wisp of straw: but so soon as the common bell of the city had rung (before the which time it was not lawful for any person to walk in the streets) she took her way towards the poor widows house, and went so light on the ground (not withstanding all that heavy weight of provision, and great feebleness of body withal) as if she had carried nothing, but had been carried herself, as in truth she was. But, when she was almost come to the house, the burden, that seemed before very light, became so heavy and painful to her, that she thought, she could not bear it one foot further. The which strange alteration when she felt in herself, she conceived forthwith, that it was the will of God, that it should so be. And therefore she turned herself to him with a great affiance in his mercy, and made her humble petition to him, that he would vowchasafe to ease her again, and make her able to go through with her burden. And with that, finding herself to have received sufficient strength to bear it out, she held on her way, till she came to the widows door, which by the provision of God she found half open. And so putting it from her softly with her hand, she laid in her provision with as little noise, as was possible. Howbeit it was not done so privily, but that the widow awaked withal. The which she perceiving, made away as fast as she could. But there came upon her (even at that instant) such a feebleness, and withal such a heavisomenes of body, that she was not able to crawl away, though her life had lain on it. Wherefore turning herself to our Lord, with a heavy heart (because she feared, lest her being there alone at that time of the day, might be scandalous to weak minds) and yet on the other side with a cheerful and smile countenance (because she saw, it was the will and pleasure of her spouse so to dally with her) between game and earnest (as it were) she spoke unto him after this manner. O my dear Lord, why hast thou thus deceived me? Shall it do well, (thinkest thou) that all the world laugh me to scorn? Is it thy pleasure, that all the neighbours here see, my folly, and hold me for a very fool and sot? See, o Lord, the day cometh on fast, which will discover me to the world, and so shall I be taken for a fantastical woman, or peradventure for worse. O my good Lord, and sweet love of my heart, hast thou now forgotten thine old mercies, showed from time to time to me thine unworthy handmaid? give me, I beseech thee, so much strength, that I may be able to return home to my chamber: and then lay upon me so much weakness, as pleaseth thee. With that she enforced herself the best she could, to creep with hand and foot upon the ground: and while she was so creeping, she spoke to her body after this manner: live thou, die thou, away thou must. Whether thou be able or not able, here is no being. And therefore on a God's name. And so, what with going, and what with crawling, she won a little ground. But before she could, get out of sight, the poor widow came down, & seeing her in the street, and no more but her, knew by her habit, who it was, that had done her that charitable pleasure. Then our Lord heard the groaning of his dear spouse, and pitying her poor case, gave her so much strength, that she gate home, before it was broad day. Where she received great comfort of mind in consideration of God's mercy and loving kindness towards her: and withal her old diseases & feebleness of body, for her further increase of grace & merit.   

An other very notable example of her great Charity towards the poor.  
Chap. 6.  
WHile this holy maid was on a time in S. Dominickes Church, there came by her a poor man, and besought her for God's love, that she would give him somewhat. To whom, because she had nothing there to give (for it was not her manner to bear neither gold nor silver about her) she spoke very gently, and prayed him, that he would have so much patience, as to tarry there, till she might go home and come again. The poor man made answer, that he could not tarry so long: but if she had any thing there to give, she should give it: for otherwise he must needs go his way. She was loath, that he should go from her without somewhat: & therefore bethought herself carefully, what thing she might have about her, to serve that poor man's need. Anon it came to her mind, that she had a little cross of silver, that hung by her beads: which she broke of with all speed, & gave it gladly to the poor man. Who likewise, when he had received this alms at her hand, went his way, and was seen no more to beg that day, as though his coming had been for that Cross only. The night following, while this devout virgin was occupied in prayer (after her accustomed manner) our Saviour Christ appeared unto her, having that same Cross in his hand, set with diverse and sundry precious stones, and said unto her. Daughther, knowest thou this Cross? Yea, Lord, said she, I know it right well: but it was not so richly decked, when I had it. Then said our Lord to her again. Yesterday thou gavest me this Cross, with a cheerful heart and great charity: which great love and charity is signified by these precious stones. And therefore I promise thee, that at the day of judgement I will show the same, in the presence of all men and Angels, to the great increase of thine everlasting joy and glory; For I will not hide, nor suffer to be hiden, such deeds of charity, as are done by thee. With that this apparition ceased, and left her replenished with unspeakable joy and gladness. And from that time forward there increased in her a passing great desire of relieving the poor.   

An other very wonderful example of her passing great Charity, like to this afore written.  
Chap. 7.  
AFter that our Lord had thus by his joyous presence and large promises, alured the heart of his spouse to do yet greater works of charity: on a day, when the divine service was done at the Friars, and she remained behind alone with one of her sisters to pray; as she was coming down from a chapel, that was there ordained for the sisters of penance, our Lord appeared to her in the likeness of a poor pilgrim, at the age (as it seemed to her) of two or three and thirty years, half naked: and besought her, that she would give him clothes for the love of God. Tarry here a little while, said she, till I go to yonder chapel and come again: and then, God willing, I will help thee of clothes. With that she went up again to the chapel, and did of her kyrtel: under the which she ware a sliveles petticoat, which she put off, and came down again, and gave it to the poor man with a glad cheer. When the poor man had received that cote, he besought her furthermore, that seeing she had served his turn of a  garment to wear outwardly, she would also be so good, as to give him some shirt of linen to wear next his body. With a very good will, said she, come home with me, & I will seek one out for thee. And so she went on afore, and the poor man came after. When she was come home, she went to the chests and presses; where the linen clothes of her Father and brothers were laid up, and took out a shirt and certain other linen clothes, and gave the same gladly to the poor man. When the poor pilgrim had received all those things at her hand, he went not his way, but prayed her yet more, that she would give him slewes to his petticoat to cover his arms withal. With a good will, said she: for otherwise, I grant, this cote were to no great purpose. And with that, she went and sought all about for slewes, and at the last sound a new cote of a maid servant, that was in the house, hanging on a perch, which had never been worn, and took of the sleeves from the same, and gave them cheerfully to the poor pilgrymme. Who received those sleeves also thankfully at her hand, as he had done all the rest, and said unto her. Mistress, ye have now clothed me thoroughly: he, for whose love ye have done it, thank you for it. But yet one demand more I have to make unto you. I have a companion lying in an hospital hereby, who standeth in great need of clothes. If it shall please you to send him any, I will carry them unto him in your behalf with a very good will. This new request troubled her somewhat, and caused her to have a certain conflict within herself. On the one side she was much moved with compassion of that poor man, and had a passing great desire to supply his necessity. On the other side she considered the murmuring & grudging of as many as were in the house: who waxed so weary of her liberal dealing out of things, that, to keep them from her hands, they began every one to keep their apparel & other goods, under lock & key. Again, she thought, she had done enough to take away the sleeves of the servants new cote, that was never worn, & that she could not with discretion take any more from her, being herself also needy & poor. Then began she to reason with her own self, & to discuss in her mind, whether she might conveniently departed with her own garment, or no. She was much inclined to do it, because she knew, that it was a great work of charity, and saw also in reason, that she was better able to bear that lack of clothes, than the poor man was. But contrariwise she considered, that if she should spoil herself of her clothes and go naked, she should in so doing, transgress the rules of common honesty: which might cause great offence in the minds of as many as should happen to see her. All the which things thus considered and discreetly weighed, she resolved in herself, that in this case it was far better for her, and withal more pleasing to God, to abstain from giving her alms, then by giving the same to give just occasion of offence to her neighbour. And upon this resolution she spoke to the poor man, after a very gentle and sweet manner, and said. Truly, good man, if I might do it with honesty, I would spoil myself even of this cote, that I wear, with all my heart, & bestow it upon thy companion. But because I have no more garments to put on, but only this, and therefore to give it away to an other, and to lack myself, were not only an undiscrete part, but also against all honesty & womanhood: I mustes needs pray thee to hold me excused, for in truth there lacketh no good will in me, but only ability. With that the poor man smiled upon her, and said. Mistress, I see right well, that if ye had aught to give, you would gladly give it. I thank you for your good will▪ God reward you and keep you. And so he took his leave of her, and went his way in such sort, that she gathered by certain signs, that this poor pilgrim should be he, that was wont to apeere unto her. But such was her lowliness & base estimation of herself, that she thought herself unworthy to receive any such comfort and honour at God's hand: & therefore with an humble mind, she returned to her wont services in the house, where not withstanding she kept her heart evermore fixed upon her dear spouse jesus Christ. who the next night following appeared unto her again, as she was praying, in the likeness of that poor man, holding in his hand that cote, that she had given him, all decked and set with goodly pearls and precious stones, that shone all over the chamber, and said unto her. Dear daughter, knowest thou this cote? yea Lord, said she, I know it very well: but it was not so richly decked, when it was with me. Then said our Lord to her again. Yester day thou gavest me this coat very freely & charitably, to cover the nakedness of my body, and to keep it from cold and shame. This day, for recompense of thy great charity towards me, I give thee a cote, that shallbe invisible to other men, but to thee alone both visible and also sensible, by the virtue whereof thou shalt be defended both in body and soul from all hurtful cold: and with this garment shalt thou be clad, until the time come, that in the presence of all Angels and Saints I shall put on upon thee, that most blissful and glorious garment of immortality in my kingdom. When he had said these words, forthwith he took out a cloth of a sanguine colour, with his own holy hands, out of the wound of his side, shining all about and yielding a marvelous beautiful light, in proportion and quantity answerable to the measure of her body: and putting the same upon her with his own hands, said. This garment I give thee, for all the time, that thou shalt live here upon the earth in token and pledge of that immortal garment, that thou shalt receive at my hands in heaven. And with these words that vision ceased, and left her endued with such a strange grace and quality, not only in soul, but also in body, that from that very instant, that our Lord spoke unto her, she never felt alteration in her body, but continued evermore in one temper, whether it were winter or summer, hot or cold, wind or rain. And whatsoever wether came, she never ware more or fewer clothes, than one only single petticoat underneath, and one only single kirtel above, and that rather for decency, then for necessity.   

Of two evident miracles, which our Lord wrought, to declare, how acceptable her works of Charity were to him.  
Chap. 8.  
THere was in the city of Sienna a certain poor man, that had dispossessed himself of all his worldly goods for God's sake, and was in great distress for lack of necessary sustenance. The which thing when this holy maid understood being moved withal compassion she took a linen bag, the she had, and filled the same with eggs, and carried it privily underneath her cote towards the house of the said poor man, to relieve him withal. When she came near the place, were he dwelled seeing a Church there by, she entered into it first (as her manner was) to do her devotion. Where lifting up her heart to God in prayer and comtemplation, she was forthwith so ravished in spirit, that her bodily senses failing, she fell down with all the weight of her body on that side, where the bag of eggs was. There was also in the bag a thymble, (such as tailors do so we withal) which she had forgotten to take out, when she put in the eggs. This thymble was broken in three pieces, and the eggs remained as whole and as sound as they were put in, notwithstanding that she had lain upon them with the burden of her whole body, and that for the space of certain hours. It pleased almighty God to work an other very strange miracle also to the like effect: a thing well known and testified by as many as were in the house; which were to the number of twenty people. It happened, that the howsehold had drunk out a vessel of wine so low, that the remnant, that was left, seemed not good enough to give to the poor (for her manner was, always to give out the best in alms for God's sake.) Where upon she went to the next vessel, and drew out of that largely for the poor, a number of days together, and was never espied by any of the howsehold. At the length, when the other vessel was quite drawn out, the Butler also went to the vessel, that she had broached, and drew of it for the whole house. The howsehold drank (as they were wont to do) sufficiently: and she gave out (as her manner was) plentifully. And yet the wine never decreased, neither in quantity nor quality, but kept evermore at one stay, both for fullness and for freshness. All the house had great wonder, how the vessel should continue so long, and withal so good. For they all knew, that such a vessel was wont to serve the house, but only xv. or at the uttermost xx. days. And this had continued a full month, and yet to all their seeming, was neither the less in measure, nor worse in taste: but rather they all confessed, that in their whole life time, they had never tasted a better wine. But that holy maid made no wonder of it: for she understood, that it was the work of God, whose property it is, to bless & multiply the substance of those, that are ready to give to the poor for his love. One month was fully expired, & an other was well entered: & yet the wine continued still as good and as fresh, as it was the first day that it was broached. At the length, when the time was come, that the grapes were ripe and ready to the press to make new wine, he that had the chief charge about the making of the same, took order, that this vessel, which had continued so long with old wine, should be emptied, that it might be filled with new wine. Whereupon one of the servants, which thought of all likelihood, that there had been little or nothing left in the vessel, went about to draw it out into bottles. After the which manner when he had drawn a good deal, he saw still, that it ran with full tap. At the last they resolved to gawge the vessel, and so to see, what was in it. The which they did: and behold, they found the vessel so dry, as if it had stood without liquor, for the space of many months before. Whereat the whole household was marvelously astoined: in so much that they had no greater wonder before to see the clear colour, freshness, and long continuance of the wine, than they had now, to see so sudden an alteration and failing of the same.   

Of a passing great charity and diligence, which she used in attending upon a sick woman: and of her invincible patience in bearing the waywardness of the same woman.  
Chap. 9  
AS this holy maid had a passing great desire to relieve the poor in their distress and extremity: so had she also a marvelous tender care and compassion over them, that were sick and diseased. Concerning the which virtue she left many wonderful examples to the world; among others this was one. There was in the city of Sienna a poor widow called ●ecca, who for lack of necessary attendance and sustentation in her own house, (being very weak and feeble) was constrained to crave the ordinary charity of an hospital, that was there by. Where she was charitably received: but the hospital was so poor, that they were not able to make her allowance of such things and services, as her disease required: and so, her malady increasing daily more and more, at the length she became disfigured with a very fowl lepry all over her body. Which made her so loathsome, to all that were in the hospital, that they eschewed her, and there was none found, that would serve her any longer. Whereupon they determined to send her to a spittle-house, that was ordained for such Lazarous folks, about a mile from the city. But before she was removed, it pleased God, that this holy maid should have understanding of their determination: Who, being inwardly moved with pity, went forthwith to the hospital, where she lay, and served her both with her body and with her goods, morning and evening providing for her, whatsoever she thought necessary or requisite for a woman in that case, and dressing the same for her with her own hands. And all this she did with as diligent a care and great reverence, as if she had been her own mother. Which charitable and humble service, the sick woman took in very good part at the first, and thought herself much beholding unto her for it. But afterwards, when she saw, that the holy maid continued her diligent attendance with such regard and love, as no servant would have done the like: like a proud and unthankful woman, she took all that she did, to be more than dutiful, and looked for it. In so much that, if any thing were done otherwise, than her pleasure was to have it done, she would chide with her, and revile her, and speak such words of villainy and reproach unto her, as no honest woman would have spoken the like to her bondwoman or slave, that she had bought with her money. If it happened (as it did sometimes) that she tarried at Church about her devotions, longer than her accustomed manner was: the wayward sick woman would receive her at her return, with very sharp and despiteful terms, saying. Ah lady queen, ye are welcome. Where hath lady queen been so long? It seemeth, that the queen can never have her fill of these Friars. These and other the like words would the old woman power out against her with great stomach and choler. But the holy maid gave her not one evil word to answer, but went about her business diligently: and, when she saw her time, she would speak to her after a gentle and lowly manner, saying. Good mother, for God's love, have patience; And if any thing be amiss, it shallbe amended by and by. And with that she bestirred herself about that she had to do for her, with all possible diligence, and made a fire, and dressed her meat, and served her of all necessaries, after such humble sort, and with such sweet words, that the impatient woman, that was so carried away with her passions, that she seemed rather a raging bedlam, than a reasonable creature, had great wonder of her patience. This brawling continued a long time, and the more the disease increased upon the old woman, the more wayward and tedious she waxed: and yet was this holy maid never weary of her loathsome service, but held out still, and did all, that was to be done about her, with great love and reverence. At the length her mother Lapa, who had a great misliking of that kind of service, cried out upon her, and said. Daughter, it can not be, but that, if thou continue in this manner of service, thou must needs in time become a leper: which (thou knowest) I may not abide to see. And therefore, I charge thee in any case to give it over. Whereunto she made answer very discreetly, and said. Good mother, have you no fear or doubt of that, for the service that I do about this sick woman, is done by the commandment of God. And think ye not, that he will lay so fowl a plague upon me for that, that himself hath willed me to do. And so with such words she quieted the mind of her mother. But our Lord, whose pleasure it is to try his faithful servants to the uttermost, permitted, in deed the enemy of mankind to have such power over her body, that he infected her hands with the lepry: in such sort, that every one, that looked upon her, judged by and by, that it came to her by the touching of the contagious body of that old woman. Which thing caused many of them, that spoke evil of her before, to speak worse now. Some said this, and some said that: every man might speak his fantasy freely: for it seemed, that they were not altogether without some good ground. And (which was most of all) every body shunned her company, as a woman infected with a contagious disease. All which disgrace moved her nothing at all, but that she continued her wont charity and service towards the sick woman, and took no care, what became of her own body, so long as she might employ it to the service of God. That woman's sickness continued many days: but the holy maid thought them very few, by reason of the great love, that she had to our Lord, whom (she thought) she served in that sick woman. At the length, when our Lord had thus sufficiently tried, the love and constancy of his faithful spouse, he determined that this her painful and loathsome service should have an end, by the passing of that sick woman out of this wretched life. At the which passage the holy maid stood by her, and comforted her with her service, with good prayers, with godly words and exhortations, and never gave her over until the last breath. And when the body was dead, she took off the clothes, and washed it and shrouded it in the winding sheet, and so laid it on the beer, ready to be carried to the place of burial. Where, when the Dirige and other divine service was done, according to the order of the Church, she took it off again, and laid it in the grave, and covered it with earth with her own hands. That done, behold, by evident miracle and work of almighty God, her hands, which were before foully disfigured with the lepry, were now at that very instant become, not only sound & whole, but also much fairer and clearer, than any other part of her body, to the sight of as many as beheld her.   

An other very strange example of her charity and patience towards a sick woman of her own Order: and how she rendered great good, for great evil.  
Chap. 10.  
THe charity of this holy maid, showed upon that unthankful leprous woman, was surely very great: and so was her charity and patience, showed towards a sister of her own Order, no less great and worthy to be remembered. There was among the sisters of S. Dominickes Order, commonly called the sisters of penance, one sister, namel Palmerina, who, by reason of certain works of charity, that she did outwardly, showed to the world to be a merciful woman to others, but in deed was unmerciful both to herself & others: as it may appear by that, that shallbe here recited. This Palmerina, bore such a deep malice and hatred in her heart against the holy maid, that it was a great pain to her, not only to see or speak to her, but also to hear her named, or spoken of by others. In so much that, whensoever mention was made of her, she could not hold herself, but that she must needs break out into reproachful words, into backbiting & slawndering, yea & sometimes to plain cursing and banning. When this holy maid understood that, she bore herself contrariwise very lowly and lovingly towards her, and did (what in her lay) to win her love with gentle behaviour & sweet words. But the more humble she showed herself & ready to please, the more did the proud woman despise her and set her at nought. The which when she saw, taking the disease of that woman's mind to be incurable by aught that man could do, & therefore resolving to lose no more time about her, she turned herself to God (who only is the physician in such desperate cases) & besought him most instantly, that he would take mercy on her sister, & mollify her heart. This prayer was made with such fervour & vehemency of spirit, that it pierced the heavens and sounded into the ears of almighty God: who, to cure that froward woman finally of her sinful disease of mind, smote her mercifully with a certain grievous infirmity of body. When the holy maid heard tell, that Palmerina was so dangerously sick, she was a heavy woman for her. For she saw, that, if she should departed the world in that state, her soul was lost everlastingly. Which consideration wrought so in her, that she determined to leave nothing undone, that might possibly be done, for the recovery of that soul. And so she went to her, and with very sweet and lovely words, offered both herself & all that she had, to be at her devotion and service. But the churlish woman was so maliciously bend against her, that she not only refused all this courtesy, but also reviled her, using most unseemly and reproachful language against her, and in the end bade her go out of her chamber, with great threats & thundering words. All which villainy the holy maid bare with great meekness & patience: and continuing her wont charity and compassion towards that furious woman, turned herself to God again in prayer. In this mean time that wretched woman's sickness, by the divine providence and disposition of God, increased so vehemently upon her, that, (without making any reconciliation with God or the world) she drew on very fast to death, both of body & soul. The which thing when the holy maid understood, her heart being thoroughly pierced with the darts of compassion, she shut herself up in her Cell, and there casting herself down prostrate upon the ground, with much sobbing, weeping, and lamentation, she made her prayer unto God after this manner. O Lord my God & Maker, may it be, that I wretched creature should be borne into the world to this end, that souls, which thou hast created to thine own image & likeness, should by any occasion of me be condemned to everlasting pains? Canst thou (my good Lord and dear spouse) suffer, that I, which ought to be to my sister an instrument of everlasting salvation, should now become an occasion of her everlasting woe and calamity? Turn away that dreadful judgement, O Lord, I beseech thee for thy mercy's sake. It had been better for me, that I had never been borne, then that the souls, which thou hast redeemed with the price of thy most precious blood, should through me be brought again into that miserable captivity of our ancient enemy the devil. O Lord, are these the promises, which thou madest unto me, when thou didst say, that I should be an instrument and mean, to win many souls to thee? Are these the fruits of life, which I thine unworthy handmaid should bring forth to the behoof of others? There is no doubt, O Lord, but that my sin is the cause of all this, out of the which I can not look to receive any better fruit, than this is. But yet, O Lord, I am right well assured, that the bottomless sea of thy mercies, can not be drained or in any part diminished: and therefore I set myself here before thee with a great affiance, and humbly beseech thee, that thou wilt vowchsafe to cast down the eyes of thy clemency upon this wretched creature, thy servant, my sister This I most instantly crave of thee, o most sweet comforter of all afflicted hearts, not trusting in any work or merit of mine own, but only in thy wont mercy and goodness. These and other the like words did the holy virgin use in her prayer (as she declared afterwards to her ghostly Father) which she powered out before God, rather with fervour of desire and inward affection, then with outward noise and sound of voice. And our Lord, to move her to further compassion, and to make her yet more earnest in prayer, gave her to understand and see, the evident and imminent peril that her wretched sister was in: and she heard it pronounced in plain terms, that the justice of God could not bear, but that such an obstinate malice and hardness of heart, must needs be punished. The which horrible sentence, given upon her sister Palmerina (whose souls health she tendered exceedingly) struck her to the very heart so mightily, that she fell down to the ground again, and there lying prostrate, groaned unto almighty God after a most lamentable sort, saying. O Lord God almighty, Father of mercies, and only helper in all extremities; I am right well contented, yea I most humbly crave it at thy hand, that thou wilt vowchsafe to lay all the pain dwe to this wretched woman's sins upon my back: punish me for them, for I am the cause of them, and not she: Wherefore I most instantly beseech thee, beat me, but spare her. And with that she raised up her heart to God with a greater affiance, and said furthermore. O merciful Lord, I will never rise out of this place, until thou show mercy to my sister. Wherefore I here groan and cry unto thee, O lord, even from the very bottom of mine heart, beseeching thee by thine unspeakable goodness, by thine infinite mercy, and by the price of thy most precious blood, shed for the redemption of mankind, that thou wilt not suffer my sister's soul to departed out of her body, until the time that thou have granted her the grace of due penance and contrition for all her sins. Thus did the holy maid make intercession to almighty God, for the recovery of her sister's soul: & her prayer was (as the event showed) of marvelous great force & virtue. For the sick woman lay in extremes three days and three nights, drawing on continually in such sort that as many as were present, looked every hour, when she should pass out of this world: (for they all saw, that she was stayed in that painful state of life, not by any strength of nature, but by some secret & extraordinary power.) All the which time the devout virgin continued in most earnest & fervent prayers for her, and never gave over, until she had with her tears and humility (as it were) wrested the sword of God's justice out of his almighty hand, and obtained for that wretched woman so much mercy & grace, that she might first see the deformity of her sins▪ then understand the dreadful decree of God's justice against her for the same, & last of all be heartily sorry & repentant for her life past, with a sure hope of forgiveness by the mercy of God through the merits of the most precious blood & death of our Saviour Christ. This blessed alteration was revealed by God to the holy maid also: who upon the understanding of the same, went forthwith to her sick sister's chamber to comfort her. Whether when she was come, the sick woman which was now very weak in body, but well strengthened in spirit, made signs of great reverence and joy: and partly with words (as well as she could) partly with tokens and gestures of body and countenance, she lamented her uncharitable demeanour towards her and besought her of mercy and pardon. That done she made her confession with great humility and contrition & so receiving the Sacraments & rights of holy Church, she yielded up her soul to God. At what time it pleased almighty God to show to the holy virgin what a blissful & beautiful state that saved soul was in: which (as she declared afterwards to her ghostly father) was so great, that no tongue of man is able to express it. And yet was not this that beauty that she should receive afterwards in the bless of heaven, but only that godly state, that the soul had in her first creation, and received again at the time of her Baptism. Then said our Lord to the holy maid. How sayest thou, my dear daughter, is not this a fair and goodly soul, which through thy pains and diligence is now recovered out of the hands of the enemy? What man or woman would refuse to take pains for the winning of such a beautiful creature? If I, which am the most high and sovereign beauty, and of whom proceedeth all manner of beauty, was notwithstanding so overcome with the love and beauty of man's soul, that I refused not to come down from heaven, to clad myself with the simple weed of man's body, in the same to sustain labours, and reproaches for the space of many days and years, and in the end to shed mine own blood for his redemption, (& yet had I no need of man's soul, but was most sufficiently and most perfectly blessed in myself:) how much more ought you to labour one for an other, and do, what in you lieth, for the recovery of such a noble and excellent creature? For this cause have I showed thee the beauty of this soul, that hereafter thou mightest both thyself be the more earnest about the winning of souls, and also procure others to do the like. With that she thanked our Lord in most humble manner, and besought him furthermore, that he would vowchsafe to give her a new grace; which was, that she might from that time forward, be able to see the state and conditions of all such souls, as should by occasions, have any conversation or dealing about spiritual matters with her: that by the sight of the same, she might be the more provoked to procure their salvation. Unto the which demand our Lord made answer after this manner. Daughter, because thou hast forsaken all carnal conversation for my sake, and hast by all means laboured to unite thyself to me in spirit, which am the most excellent and sovereign spirit: therefore I here make thee a full grant, that from this very instant, thy soul shallbe endued with such a gracious light, that thou shalt see and behold, both the beauty, and also the deformity of every soul that is presented before thee. And as hitherto thou hast seen the proportion and quality of bodies, with thy bodilies eyes: even so from this time forward, thou shalt see the conditions of souls, with the spiritual eye of thy soul, not only of such as shallbe present before thee, but also of all other, for whose souls health thou shalt make intercession to me, though thou never see them with thy bodily eyes.   

How she served an old widow, that had a festered sore running upon her: by whom she was also infamed. And of diverse strange accidents, that ensued upon the same.  
Chap. 11.  
THere was among the sisters of penance one sister called Andrea: who had upon her breast a very loathsome sore, commonly called a Canker. This sore had fretted and eaten so much flesh round about, and the corruption of the same yielded such an horrible savour, that none might come near for stench. By reason whereof there was none found, that would attend upon her in her sickness. The which thing when the holy maid understood, she went out of hand to visit her; and, seeing her utterly forsaken and destitute of all succour and comfort, she made herself well assured, that the providence of God had reserved that sister for her keeping. And so accepting the charge of her, as at God's hand, she began to speak comfortable words unto her, and to make her a free offer of her own person, to attend and serve her to the uttermost of her power: (which made the widow a glad woman.) The holy maid therefore set herself to the service of that poor woman: she took care for her, that she might have, whatsoever was necessary or requisite for a woman in that case; when time was, she opened her sore, & cleansed it of all the fowl matter; she was shed it and wypt it, and covered it again with plasters and clean clothes: and in all this, she never showed so much as one little token of loathsomeness, but did every thing with such diligence and cheerfulness, that the sick sister was astoined to see so great love and charity in a maid of those years. But the malicious fiend, who hath great envy at all works of charity, bend himself to do all that in him lay, to disannul, if it were possible, if not, at the least to hinder this godly and merciful enterprise, so much as might be. And first of all, upon a day, as the holy maid was about to open the sore to dress it there came out such an horribile stench, that she could hardly bear it, but that she must needs vomit. The which thing when she perceived, she entered into a passing great choler and displeasure against her own skeymish body one stomach, and said to herself. Ah vile and wretched flesh, dost thou loathe thy sister, whom our Lord hath bought so dearly, even with the price of his own most precious blood? The day may come when thou also mayest fall into the like sickness, or peradventure worse. As I am a Christian woman thou shalt abide for it. And with that, she bowed down, and held her mowth and nose over the sore so long, until at the length it seemed, that she had comforted her stomach, & quite overcome the skeymishnes, that she felt before. All the which time he sick sister cried out unto her, and said. Good daughter, stand up: good daughter, give over, cast not thyself away: endanger not thy body with this infectious savour. But she would never give over, until she had overcome both the tew lines of her own stomach, and also the tentation of the ghostly enemy. When the subtle serpent saw, that this his assault was thus repelled: being utterly in despair of any better success against that holy virgin, (which stood evermore like a strong fortress well furnished & defenced) he devised to lay his battery to the weak woman, (whom he knew to be of less experience, and therefore less circumspect in such matters (and so to make his entry upon them both together. He began to sow in the heart of the sick woman diverse and sundry surmises against her, by crafty means bringing her in great gelowsie and disliking of all that she did: by reason whereof in process of time she waxed marvelous weary of her, and might not well abide to see her. Which weerisomenes increasing in her daily more and more engendered a certain malice, and malice, in time bred a plain hatred. Now this malice and hatred had in continuance by little and little so corrupted her judgement, that she not only suspected of her the worst that any evil mind could imagine, but also bleleeved firmly, that all such imaginations were most certain and undoubted truths in so much that, whensoever the holy maid was any where out of her sight, she believed assuredly, that she was about some fowl act of fleshly pleasure. The which thing though the innocent virgin understood very well, yet did she show herself no less loving, meek, & serviceable about her, than she was wont to be before. But the more meekness and diligence the good servant of Christ used towards that froward old woman, the more testy and choleric waxed she against her by the instigation of the devil: in so much that at the length she came to that, that she would no longer keep her conceived suspicions under the covert of private gelowsie but without all modesty & shame gave them out in plain and broad terms, to as many, as would give ear to her slawnderous talk. This fowl brute being once thus raised, it went on from one to another, until in the end it came to the ears of the sisters: who, to understand the very original of the rumour, went to the chamber, where the sick sister lay, and examined her of the matter. She avouched stoutly to them, so much as she had reported to others before, and accused the maid constantly of actual incontinency & uncleanness. Whereat they were very much astoined at the first; but yet, wheighing the age, behaviour, & constancy of the accuser, they gave credit to her words, & thereupon, calling the maid before them they gave her very rough and sharp language, rebuking her with marvelous vile and reproachful words, and ask her, how she was carried away and brought to commit such a sinful and unclean act. Whereunto she made answer with great humility and patience, saying no more words, but only these. Truly, good mothers and sisters, by the grace of our Lord jesus Christ I am a maid. And, whatsoever they said to her, she gave them none other word to answer, but only this. Truly I am a maid. Truly I am a maid: never utterring so much as one word, that might seem to touch her accuser. Upon whom she attended and served with as great love and diligence, as if there had never passed any such matter between them. And yet was she sorry at the very heart, for the slander and infamy, that was raised upon her. Wherefore, when she had done, what was to be done about the sick woman, she retired herself for comfort (as her manner was in all adversities) into her chamber: and there, casting herself down prostrate upon the ground, she opened the grief of her heart to almighty God, more with groaning of heart, then with sound of voice, after this manner. O almighty God, my dear Lord & spouse, thou knowest very well, what a tender thing the good name of virgins is, (especially of them that have vowed their virginity to thee) and how much subject they are to the violent strokes of slawnderous tongues. And that was the cause, why thy provident wisdom disposed, that thy most glorious mother should be committed to the charge of joseph, who was called, and was in deed her husband, not for any act of matrimony, but to keep her name of virginity from slander. Thou knowest, O Lord, that all this slawnder, that is raised upon me, is wrought by the father of lying: who hath done this, to withdraw & hinder me from this charitable work, that thou hast appointed me to do, & I have willingly taken upon me for thy love. wherefore I most humbly beseech thee, O my dear Lord, most mighty protector of all innocentes, that thou wilt not suffer this wicked serpent, whom thou hast trodden under foot in the time of thy sacred passion, to have the mastery over me. When the holy maid had thus made a long prayer to our Lord, with much inward groaning and plenty of tears: behold, our Lord appeared to her, holding two crowns in his hands, one in his right hand of gold, all decked with rich pearls and precious stones, an other in his left hand of very sharp thorns: & said these words unto her. Dear daughter, it is so, that thou must needs be crowned with these two crowns at sundry times. Choose therefore, whether thou have lieffer to be crowned with the sharp crown of thorn in this life, and that other to be reserved for thee in the life to come: or elswhether thou like better to have this goodly golden crown in this life, & that other sharp crown in the life to come. To this demand the humble & discrete virgin made answer after this manner. Lord, said she, thou knowest very well, that I have resigned my will wholly to thee, & have made a full resolution to do all things according to thy direction: and therefore I dare not choose any thing, unless I may know, that the same shall stand with thy most blessed will and pleasure. Nevertheless, because thou hast willed me to make answer concerning this choice, that thou hast here made unto me, I say thus: that I do choose in this life evermore to be conformed and made like to thee, my Lord & Saviour, & cheerfully to bear Crosses & thorns for thy love, as thou hast done for mine. With that she reached out her hands justly, and took the crown of thorns of our lords hands, and put the same upon her own head with such a strength and violence, that the thorns pierced her head round about, in so much that for a long space after she felt a sensible pain in her head by the pricking of those thorns, as she declared afterwards to her ghostly Father. Then our Lord said to her. Daughter, all things are in my power. And as I have suffered this slawnder to be raised against thee by the devil and his members: so is it in my power to cease the same, when I will. Continue thou therefore in that holy service that thou hast begun, and give no place to the enemy, that would let thee from all good works. I will give thee a perfect victory over thine enemy, and will bring to pass, that, whatsoever he hath imagined against thee, it shall all be turned upon his own head, to thy great joy, and his great pain. Thus was she well comforted again, and so continued still at the service of that sick woman. In this mean time the slanderous rumour was bruited, and, came to her mother's ears. Who for herself made no doubt at all of her daughter's innocency (for she knew many things, that the world knew not) and yet she could not but take it very heavelie, when she heard tell that such a slawnder was raised upon her. The grief whereof so overcame her mind, that she flung to her daughter with great heat and vehemency of spirit, and began with her after this manner. How often times have I told thee, that thou shouldest no more serve yonder stinging old croyne? See now, what reward she giveth thee for all thy good service, she hath brought up a foul slander upon thee among all thy sisters: which God knoweth, whether thou shalt ever be able to rid thyself of, so long as thou livest. If ever thou serve her again after this day, or if ever thou come, where she is: never take me for thy mother. For I tell thee plain, I will never know thee for my daughter. These and other the like words did the mother utter in great heat & choler, whereat the daughter at the first was somewhat astoined. But after a little time, when she had gathered herself together, she went to her mother, and kneeling down before her with great reverence, she spoke these words. Sweet mother, think you, that our Lord would be pleased with us if we should leave the works of mercy undone, because our neighbour showeth himself unthankful towards us? When our Saviour Christ hung on the Cross, and heard there the reproachful talk of that ungrateful people round about, did he in regard of their cruel words geveover the charitable work of their redemption? Good mother, you know very well, that if I should leave this old sick woman, she were forthwith in great danger to perish for lack of keeping: because she should not find any, that would come near her, & do such service, as is requisite to be done about a woman in this case. And so should I be the occasion of her death. She is now a little deceived by the ghostly enemy: but she may hereafter by the grace of God come to acknowledge her fault and be sorry for the same. With such words she qualified her mother's mind & gate her blessing: and so returned again to the service of the sick woman. About whom she did all things with great diligence & love, never showing neither in words nor in countenance so much as any token of discontentantion or displeasure. In so much that the sick sister seeing her demeanour, was very much astoined & withal ashamed of that she had done, and so began to have great sorrow at heart and repentance for the slander, that she had raised upon her. Then also it pleased our Lord to show his mercy towards his faithful spouse, & to restore her again to her good fame & estimatimation after this manner. On a day the holy maid went to the sick sister's chamber to serve her, as she was wont to do. At what time, as she was coming towards her bed, where she lay, to do some thing that was to be done about her; behold the sick woman saw a marvelous goodly light coming down from heaven, which filled all her chamber, and was so beautiful and comfortable, that it made her utterly to forget all the pains of her disease. What that sight might mean, she could not conceive. But, looking about her here and there, she beheld the maiden's face gloriously transformed: the majesty whereof was so strange, that she seemed to her rather an Angel of heaven, than any earthly creature. And this beautiful light, environed the holy virgin's body round about. The which brightness the more the old woman beheld, the more did she condemn the malice of her own heart and tongue, in that she had conceived and uttered so fowl matter, as she had done, against such an excellent and pure creature, as the holy maid than showed to be. This vision continued a good time: and at the length, when it ceased, left the sick woman both in sorrow, and also in comfort. In sorrow, because on the one side she saw, what a heinous sin she had committed in dissaming that innocent virgin. In comfort, because on the other side she saw the mercy of God freely and frankly offered unto her. The which thing so mollified her heart, that with much sobbing & weeping she confessed her fault to the holy maid, and besought her of pardon. When the good virgin saw the humble manner of her repentance and submission, she likewise very amiably took the old woman in her arms, & kissed her, and spoke very sweet and comfortable words unto her, saying. Good mother, I have no displeasure in the world against you, but only against our enemy the devil, by whose malice & suttiltie, I know, all this is wrought: but, rather I have to thank you with all my heart, for you have put me in mind to have a more careful and vigilant regard to myself, and so doing you have turned the malicious drift of the fiend to my further good and commodity. With such sweet speeches she comforted the sick sister, and then she set herself to do all such services, as were wont to be done about her. And when she had done all, she took her leave very gently (as her manner was) and so retired herself to her chamber, to give God thanks so the prosperous success, that she had had in this matter, and to enter into her accustomed exercise of prayer & meditation. In this mean time the old woman, who had a great care to restore the innocent virgin to her good name again, when any of those came to her, before whom she had made that slanderous report, took occasion to unburden her conscience, and confessed openly with great lamentation and tears, that whatsoever dishonesty she had any time reported by that holy maid, she had been induced to report it by the craft of the devil, & not by any thing that ever she saw or knew in her. And therefore she cried them all mercy, and besought them for charity to forgive her. She affirmed furthermore, that she was able to make good proof, that the holy maid was not only free from all suspicion of any uncleanness of body, but also endued with many high & singular graces of God, and that she was in deed a very pure virgin and a Saint. Thus much, said she; I speak not upon heresaie or opinion, but upon very certain knowledge. Then certain of the elder and sadder women talked with her secretly, and required to understand, what certain tokens and knowledge of holiness she had in the maid. Whereupon she declared unto them so much as hath been here receited before. And said furthermore, very constantly and with great fervour of spirit, that in all her life time she never knew, what true sweetness of soul and spiritual comfort meant, until that time, when she saw the holy maid so transformed and environed round about with that heavenly and unspeakable light: the beauty and brightness whereof was so great, that no tongue was able to express it. This testimony of the sick woman was spread allover the city: by reason whereof the fame of the blessed virgin, and the opinion of her rare virtue and holiness was so much increased, as the malice of the devil had thought to have obscured the same by this false treachery. But in all this, as she was nothing dejected by the raising of that slanderous report: so was she nothing puffed up with pride for all the honour that the world gave her: but acknowledging humbly all virtues and holiness to be the gifts of God, she continued still in her foremer state,, at the service of that sick woman. But the ghostly enemy, whose malice ceaseth not, though he saw, that he had had very evil luck in all that he had ever attempted against her before yet like an earnest gamester, he thought, he would adventure one cast more, as it were upon desperation. On a time, as the holy maid was dressing the old woman's sore, by the malicious working of the fiend, there issued out of it such a loathsome and horrible stench, that she was upon the point to have cast up all that was in her body. The which when she saw perceuing that it was the practice of that venomous serpent, she entered into an earnest displeasure against her own flesh, and spoke to herself with great vehemency of spirit, saying. Ah wretched and caraine flesh, dost thou loathe thine even Christian? I shall make thee, not only to endure the savour of it, but also to receive it within thee With that she took all the washing of the sore, together with the corrupt matter and filth; and going aside put it all into cup, and drank it up lustily. And in so doing, she overcame at one time, both the skeymishnes of her own stomach, and malice of the devil. This was told afterwards to her ghostly Father in her presence, and she confessed, that it was all true; and said furthermore, that she could not remember, that she had ever eaten or drunken such a pleasant and delicate meat or drink, as that seemed to be, in all her life. The next night following after this glorious victory, our Saviour Christ appeared unto her, and showed her his hands, feet and side, & in them imprinted the five wounds, of his most bitter passion, & said unto her. Dear daughter, many are the battles, that thou hast sustained for my love: and great are the victories that thou hast achieved through my grace and assistance. For the which I bear thee great good will and favour. But especially that drink, that thou tookest yesterday for my sake, liked me passingly well: in the which, because thou hast not only despised the delight of the flesh, cast behind thy back the opinion of the world, and utterly subdued thine own nature: I will give thee a drink that shall pass in sweetness and pleasure all the liquors, that the world is wont or able to give. With that he reached out his arm, and took her about the neck, and brought her mouth softly to the sacred wound of his side, and said unto her. Drink daughter, drink thy fill at the very fountain of life. This drink, shall replenish thy soul with unspeakable sweetness in such sort, that it shall abound and overslowe into thy body also, which thou hast so utterly despised for my love. Then the holy maid set her mouth to, with great greediness, and drew out of that fountain of everlasting salvation the liquor of life. And so she continued sucking a good while, not only with the mouth of her body, but also (and that much more) with the mouth of her soul: until at the length (when his holy will and pleasure was) she gave over, feeling herself in a marvelous blissful state. For she had drunk her fill, and yet was nothing glutted, but rather thirsty and desirous to drink still: Which thirst and desire was no pain at all to her, but rather a passing great delight & pleasure. After this time the holy maid was so replenished with heavenly grace that she neither did, nor might eat, her bodily meat in such sort, as she was wont to do before.   

How she was endued with many goodly privileges. How she had a passing desire to receive the blessed Sacrament. How, being fortified by the spirit of God, she endured much labour and travail without bodily sustenance.  
Chap. 12.  
AFter that the faithful disciple of Christ had thus by the grace of God overcome diverse and sundry temptations; being now thoroughly tried like fine gold in the furnace of tribulation, there remained nothing else, but only to receive the crown of justice in life everlasting. But because the divine providence of God had so disposed of her, that she should yet remain in this life a little while, for the benefit of others: (in the which time she was not able to receive the fruition of that endless bless that is prepared for the time to come: and yet our Lord of his goodness would not suffer her to continue any longer in this present life without some degree or state of blessedness) he gave her a certain taste or pledge of that blissful state, that she was to receive in the other life, even in this vale of misery. And he did it after this manner. On a time, while she was praying in her chamber, our Lord appeared unto her, and spoke after this manner. My dear daughter Catherine, I give thee now to understand, that the rest of thine abode in this world shallbe full of such strange and unwonted gifts of my grace, that it shall cause diverse and sundry effects in the hearts of men. Simple and ignorant people shallbe greatly astoined to see the things, that shallbe wrought by thee. Carnal men, and such as have little experience in spiritual matters, shallbe in danger to fall quite from their faith. Yea and many of those also, that are good and virtuous, seeing certain tokens of my passing great love towards thee (such as have not lightly been heard of) and withal the wonderful strangeness of the things, that thou shalt work, shall suppose, that all is but deceit and illusion. For I will endue thy soul with such abundance of grace, that it shall redound into thy body also: by reason whereof thou shalt lead such a marvelous kind of life, as the world hath not oftentimes seen or heard tell of. Again, I will enkindle in thine heart such a fiery zeal, both of mine honour and of the salvation of souls, that thou shalt in a manner forget thine own kind, and alter the wont order of thy whole conversation. For thou shalt not from hence forth shun the company of men and women, as thou hast hitherto but rather to win them to God, thou shalt press in among them, and labour to the uttermost of thy power. Of this manner of life many a one shall take occasion of slander and offence, and thou shalt be gainsaid of many: that the thoughts of many hearts may be opened. But in any case, see that thou be nothing afraid or troubled with any of these things: For I will be with thee always, and will deliver thee from lying lips and slanderous tongues. Follow therefore freely the guydance of my holy spirit, and labour diligently in this charitable work, wherein I have appointed thee. For by thee I have determined, to deliver many souls out of the dragon's mouth, and to bring them to my everlasting rest in heaven. These and other the like words spoke our Lord to her, and repeated the same again and again, and specially that word, where he bade her, that she should not be afraid or dismayed. Whereunto the holy maid made answer with great humility and perfect obedience saying. Thou art my Lord and my God, and I thy creature and unworthy hand maid: thy will be done in all things. Only this, O Lord, I beseech thee, remember me according to the multitude of thy mercies, and help me. And with that the vision ceased: and the blessed virgin conferred those comfortable words of our Saviout in her heart, easting earnestly with herself, what that gracious alteration might mean. From that time forward the grace of God increased daily in her heart so much & the gifts of the holy Ghost replenished her soul in such abundant manner, that she was herself astoined at it; and, by reason of that passing great increase of spiritual joy and comfort that she felt in her soul, her body, being not able to bear it, waxed feeble & faint. Her heart was wholly carried up into God, and that with such a vehemency and fervour of love, that she could not endure any time without thinking and meditating upon his most noble works, and endless mercies towards herself and all mankind. The force of the which love, so overcame the natural powers of her body, that she languished and decayed in strength: and could find none other remedy for that sickness, but only to run unto God with an amorous affection, and to power out her heart before him with great abundance of tears, and so to renew herself as it were in the forge and fire of love. At the length, it pleased our Lord to give her to understand by the secret instinct of his holy spirit, that the most sovereign medicine for that disease was, often times to receive the blessed Sacrament of the altar. Where she should have the joyful fruition of her love, not in such sort, as she should have it afterwards in the bless of heaven, but yet so, as that she should find herself satisfied in some dergree for the time. Now, after that she had used for a certain time to communicate every day (as she did unless she were letted by sickness or by some other necessary occasion) she had at the length such a passing great longing and (as it were) an impatient desire to receive the blessed Sacrament, that if she were enforced by any such urgent necessity to abstain but only one day, it seemed, that her body fainted sensibly & failed: forsomuch as, being now fully accorded with the soul, it had abandoned the natural powers & senses, and so received nourishment and sustentation, not of the meats that the body is wont to be fed withal (which did her more harm then good) but of the food of the soul, which is the grace of God: which grace was so abondant in her soul, that it redounded into her body, and by miracle tempered that wasting heat, that is wont to consume the radical moisture. Her ghostly Father, examining her upon this point, asked, whether she had ever any appetite to eat or no. Whereunto she made answer, that she was fully satisfied with the holy Sacrament, and had none other appetite. Then he asked her yet further, in case by occasion she abstained from receiving the blessed Sacrament, whether she were then hungry or no. To that likewise she answered and said, that the only presence of the Sacrament, did satisfy her, and not only the Sacrament, but the priest also, that had touched the Sacrament, did satisfy and comfort her in such sort, that she could not so much as think of any other meat. And in deed it was well known to as many as lived with her from the beginning of Lent until the Ascension day, she continued in very good liking without receiving any manner of bodily food or sustenance in the world. And upon that day by commandment of God, she took only a little bread and a few herbs: for her stomach might not brook any dainty or fine meats. After that she observed a simple manner of fasting for a time, until at the length by little and little, she came again to her old manner of abstinence, which was to eat nothing at all. And so she passed over her life in a continual and evident miracle, verifying that saying of the holy Scripture, that man liveth not only by bread, but by every word that cometh out of our lords mowth. Her ghostly Father testified, that he saw her himself (and that not once or twice, but often times) when, continuing after this sort without any manner of sustenance, unless it were a little water, she became so weak, that as many as were about her looked every hour, when she would give up the ghost. At what time, if occasion were ministered to win a soul to God, or to do any other charitable work to the honour of God, they all saw to their great astonishment, that she was suddenly altered in the state of her body in such sort, that she was able to rise and go without any token of weakness or weerines, and also to endure great labour in doing that good work, that she took in hand for God's sake. And those that went with her, having their perfect health and strength, could hardly follow her here & there, but that they must needs be more weary, than she showed to be. Which made them all to confess, that it was the almighty power of God, that sustained her, and not any natural force.   

How she was molested by diverse and sundry people, dissuading her from her straight Abstinence: and how she overcame her ghostly Father by reason.  
Chap. 13.  
THis straight and unwonted manner of Abstinence, was to the holy maid an occasion of great unquietness and trouble, both by them that lived with her in house, and also by others: who, seeing the order of her conversation, to be so far above the common course of man's life, persuaded themselves, and travailed much to persuade her also, that it was not the gracious gift of God, but only a subtle deceit & tentation of the devil. With this error were a great number carried away, & among others her own ghostly Father: who, imagining all this to be nothing else, but only a crafty illusion of Satan transforming himself into an Angel of light, commanded her to eat her meat, and not to give any credit to such deceveable visions. Whereunto she made answer and said, that she found by experience, that she was more healthy in body, when she received no bodily sustenance at all, than she was, when she did eat. The ghostly Father was nothing moved with that talk, but taking all to be but only excuses, he commanded her precisely, that she should eat. Then she, to show herself a true daughter of obedience, did as she was commanded, and began to eat her meat, until by eating she became so weak and wasted, that she was at the very point of death without any hope of recovery, unless she returned again to her former Abstinence. Whereupon she sent for her ghostly Father, and said unto him. Father, said she, I pray you tell me one thing: in case I should by over much fasting kill myself, should I not be guilty of mine own death? yes, said he. Again, said she, I beseech you resolve me in this. Whether do you take it to be a greater sin to die by overmuch eating, or by overmuch Abstinence? By overmuch eating, said he. Then sir, said she, seeing it is so, that you see by experience, that I am very weak, and even at deaths door by reason of my eating: Why do you not forbid me to eat, as you would forbid me to fast in the like case? To that reason he could make none answer: and therefore seeing by very evident tokens, that she was near the point of death, he made her this final resolution, saying. Daughter, do as God shall put in your mind, follow the guydance of his holy spirit, & pray for me; For, I see, the things that our Lord worketh in you, are very strange, and not to be measured by the common rule.   

How her strange manner of life was gainsaid and slawndered: and how such gainesayinge and slawnders may easily be answered.  
Chap. 14.  
THis strange and unwonted manner of life, as it was to some of the better sort an occasion of praising God in his wonderful works, so did it minister to many ungodly and ill disposed people, matter of slander and offence. Some said, that she made herself better than our blessed Lady & the Apostles, yea better than our Saviour Christ himself; who (as the holy scripture recordeth) did eat and drink. Some other alleged the rules of spiritual life, which do precisely forbid any Religious person to follow any singular manner of life. Some other reasoned and said, that virtue consisted in the mean, and that all extremity was to be suspected of vice. Some said, that she was beguiled by the devil: some other said in plain terms, that she was an hypocrite, and persuaded themselves, that she did fast openly to blear the eyes of the world, but that she had good morsels in corners, which the world knew not of. Thus did every body think and report of her, (as it is wont to happen in such cases) not as they found her better or worse, but as they found themselves better or worse disposed. But, to make answer to these vain surmises and false reports briefly, it is to be known, that all men, especially Religious and spiritual people, if they have not utterly overthrown or done their best to over throw self-love in themselves, but do labour still to get the vain estimation of the world, are in great danger to be overthrown by their own ambitious mind; and so being blinded with such malice, to envy the gifts and graces of God in others, namely if they be such excellent and singular gifts, as may seem in any degree to make their own qualities to shewelesse in the opinion of men. Such people are wont commonly to cover their own malice with the cloak of a certain zeal, which they pretend to have to the honour of God and edifying of souls: under the which covert they will go about to obscure and slander the gifts of God in their neighbours, giving the world to understand, that, whatsoever they see in them, all is but the deceit of the devil, illusions, counterfeicting, hypocrisy, or lack of discretion. But in the end such malice is wont to discover itself, as this against the holy virgin doth, especially if it be examined and tried, by the rules of holy Scriptures and examples of other Saints, of whom we are well assured, that they were in the like case directed by the spirit of God. To them therefore, that say, that she preferred herself before our blessed Lady, the Apostles, and Christ himself, in that she observed such a straight kind of fast, as we read not the like of them: it may be answered, that our Saviour Christ did (as it is written) both eat and drink contrariwise S. john Baptist (as our Saviour himself witnesseth) did neither eat nor drink: and yet will no man prefer S. john before our Saviour in regard of his singular Abstinence. The like may be said of many of the ancient Fathers, as S. Antoine, Ma●arius, Hilarion, Serapion, and others who likewise kept a straighter fast, than we read of the Apostles, and yet doth no man prefer them before the Apostles. If they will add furthermore and say, that this holy maids case is not altogether like to those ancient Fathers; forsomuch as, though, they lived a marvelous straight kind of life, and fasted far above the common course of men, yet did they eat somewhat, and fasted not simply from all manner of bodily sustenance: to that it may be answered, that she had (even for that point) the example of Marie Magdalen, who lived in a rock of the sea for the space of thirty years together, and never eat nor drank in all that tyme. And yet was she never thought to be better, than our blessed Lady, which did both eat and drink. To them, that allege the rules of spiritual life, which do expressly forbid all singularity, it may easily be answered: that no man ought to take such order of life upon himself, without a very good and assured warrant from God: but, if he be commanded by God to take any such singular manner of life upon him, he may▪ not refuse it in respect of the singularity: for that were to refuse the gift and grace of God. The like answer may be made to them also, that reason and say, that all extremities are to be eschewed, and only the mean to be embraced. For it is a most certain ground, that whatsoever almighty God willeth, can not be taken for an extremity: forsomuch as his will is to us a most true and infallible rule: by the which rule he measureth to every one, accordingly as he seethe most expedient. And many times, what we imagine to be to one man a great extremity, that knoweth he to be to an other man the very just mean, wherein consisteth virtue. As for those that said, that she was deceived by the devil, there needeth none answer to be given: forsomuch as the thing itself answereth them sufficiently. For admit, that she might be deceived by the enemy (whose craft in deed is very subtle) yet would I feign learn of them, who it was, that kept her body so long time in her natural force and strength. If they answer and say, that it was the Devil: then will I ask them again, who that was, that preserved her soul in such spiritual joy and peace, especially at that time, when she was deprived of all outward delight and comfort. This inward comfort and peace is undoubtedly the fruit of the holy Ghost, and may in no wise be ascribed to the devil. Last of all, to come to them, that of a wicked malice slandered the blessed virgin of hypocrisy and vain glory, I think it not so expedient to shape them an answer, as to give them good counsel. I would wish all such to be better advised, what they speak against God's servants, and what judgement they give concerning the wonderful works of God in his Saints. For they shall receive their judgement for all such rash and slanderous talk at the later day, before the judgement seat of God and all this Saints.   

How she showed herself marvelous severe and rigorous towards herself, and contrariwise wonderful gentle and meek towards them that slandered her, which she did to win then to God.  
Chap. 15.  
WHen any ill disposed people spoke their pleasure of her, slandering and depraving that unwonted manner of Absteinence, which they saw in her, she would answer then not with any vehemency of words, but only simply, and with such a moderation of speech, as she thought most meet to qualify and overcome such hard hearts: for sooth, said she, it is true, that our Lord sustaineth my life without bodily food: and yet see I no cause, why you should be offended. For in truth I would eat with a good will, if I could. But almighty God hath for my sins laid this strange infirmity upon me, that, if I eat, I am forthwith in peril of death: pray therefore to God for me, that he will vouchsafe to forgive me my sins, which are to me the very cause of this and all other evils. By such sweet words she hoped well to have stayed those malicious tongues. But when she saw, that she prevailed not; of very pity, that she had of those weak minds, and to take away all occasion and colour of offence, she came to the table with others, and did enforce herself to eat somewhat: but in so doing suffered such intolerable pains, that as many as saw it, had great compassion on her. For her stomach had utterly lost, the virtue of digestion: by reason whereof, the meat that she eat, either she cast it up again, (and that was oftentimes procured by putting a feather into her throat, or otherwise violently) or else it remained in her stomach undigested, and there engendered windinnes, colikes, and other passions, which tormented her very cruelly and never ceased, until she had brought it up by one mean or other. The which thing her ghostly Father seeing, and considering that she suffered all such pains only to stop the course of slanderous tongues, for very inward compassion, that he had of her great torments, he spoke comfortably unto her, and willed her on God's name, that she should rather leave eating, then to suffer such pains, how soever they took it, and whatsoever slanders they raised upon her. Whereunto she made answer with a smile countenance, saying. Father, how think you? Is it not better for me to discharge the debt of my sins after this manner in this present life, then to differre the payment of the same in far greater pains to the life to come? would you, that I should flee God's justice, or rather (to speak more to the purpose) that I should not accept this goodly occasion, that is offered me here, to satisfy God's justice with such temporal pains? Surely, Father, I take it for a great grace and benefit of God, that he will vouchsafe thus to chastise me here for my sins; and not reserve the same to be punished in the other life. To this her ghostly Father could say nothing, and therefore he held his peace. And so by this mean, she gave a great example of high perfection to all men: she overcame the devil, which had wrought all this trouble against her: she stopped the mouths of diverse and sundry malicious people: and prepared for herself a double crown in the life to come. On a time reasoning with her ghostly Father concerning the gifts and graces of God, she uttered a very notable lesson, which was this. If man (said she) knew how to use the grace of God, he should make his gain and commodity of every thing, that happeneth unto him in this life. And so would I wish, that you should do, good Father, Whensoever any thing happeneth unto you, think with yourself, and say thus. God give me his grace to win somewhat of this, towards my soul's health. And then do your endeavour to gain such and such virtues, as that present matter shall minister occasion: and within a little time ye shall become very rich.   

How our Saviour took her heart out of her body, and after a certain of days gave her a new for it.  
Chap. 16.  
THe familiarity, that our Lord had with this blessed virgin, was so strange, & the gracious privileges, that he endued her withal, so singular, that they gave at that time, & may peradventure give now also occasion of laughter to many wordly people, and to such, as are in any degree fallen from that simplicity, that is (as the Apostles saith) and ought to be in Christ. And yet are not the wonderful works of God therefore to be concealed from the unfaithful, but rather to be set out for the behoof of the godly & well disposed; For as almighty God doth from time to time work such great wonders in his saints: so doth he also from time to time, prepare some good hearts, that will receive the same with a simple reverence & true Christian regard. On a time, while this holy maid was lifting up her heart to God in prayer with great fervour of spirit, and saying those words of the prophet David: O God, create in me a clean heart, and renew a right spirit in my bowels: she made a special petition to him, that he would vouchsafe to take away her own heart and will, and give her an other new heart and will, that were wholly according to his holy will. As she was so praying with great humility and instance, behold, our Saviour Christ appeared to her after a very comfortable manner, and came to her, and opened her left side sensibly with this hand, and took out her heart, and so going his way left her in deed without a heart. Afterwards being in talk with her ghostly Father, among other things she said to him, that she had no heart in her body, When her Confesseur heard those words, he laughed at her, and began after a sort to rebuke her for so saying. But she affirmed constantly, that so it was: and for confirmation of the same declared, how our Saviour had taken it out with his own hand. All the which talk persuaded him nothing at all. How is it possible, said he, that any man should live without a heart? ye say truly, Father (said she) unto man it is in deed impossible: but unto God there is nothing impossible. Within a few days after this, it chanced her to go to a certain Chapel of the Friars preachers, where the sisters of penance were wont to kneel. And when they were all gone home, she continued there in prayer: wherein lifting up her heart to God with great fervour and devotion, she was ravished in spirit▪ as her common manner was. That done, she set herself in the way to go homeward. And as she went, behold, a goodly light from heaven environed her round about: and in that light appeared our Saviour Christ, holding in his hands a red shining heart. At the sudden sight whereof she was so afraid, that she fell down to the ground all quaking and trembling. Then came our Lord unto her, and opening her side, put the heart, that he held in his hand into her body, and said these words. Lo, dear daughter, as I did this other day take away thy heart, so do I now in steed of that give thee my heart, with the which thou shalt live everlastingly. When he had so done, he closed up the wound again that was made in her body, and went his way. Howbeit he did it in such sort, that there remained ever afterwards a certain mark or scar, as it were, of a wound healed: as she declared oftentimes to her ghostly Father, and many of her sisters saw it with their eyes. From that time forward she altered the manner of her prayer, and said not, as she was wont to do before; Lord, I beseech thee, keep my heart: but, Lord, I beseech thee, keep thy heart.   

Of diverse and sundry visions, which she had at the sight and receiving of the blessed Sacrament: and how she felt herself wonderfully altered after the receipt of that new heart.  
Chap. 17.  
AFter that she had received this new heart, she increased marvelously in high and heavenly contemplations, especially when she was occupied in prayer about the Altar: from whence she never parted without some very strange visions and illuminations, namely when she received the blessed Sacrament. Many times she saw our Saviour Christ between the priests hands, in the form of a little sucking babe: sometimes she saw him like a pretty stripling: and sometimes also like a hot burning furnace, into the which it seemed to her that the priest did enter, when he did communicate. Many times, when she received B. Sacrament, she felt such passing sweet savours, that her body was almost overcome with the sweetness of the same. And generally▪ whensoever she did either see or receive the holy Sacrament, she received withal such abundance of new joys and unspeakable comforts, that many times her heart danced in her body, and made such a sensible noise, that it might well be heard of them that stood by. And it was well perceived, that the noise was not natural, such as other men's bodies are wont to make: but it was altogether strange and above the common course of nature. In this inward and spiritual jubilee, that she felt in herself, she would break out sometimes & speak to her ghostly Father after this manner. O Father, see you not, that I am not now the same woman, that I was before? O that you could feel, that I do now feel in my heart. Surely, surely, Father, there is no man in this world so proud, or so hard hearted, that would not relent and become humble, if he felt, what I feel. And yet is that, that I tell you, nothing in comparison of that, that I feel inwardly. There is such a great fire of Gods love enkindled in my heart, that this external and material fire, being compared with that, seemeth rather cold then hot. I am so replenished with inward joy and gladness, that I can but marvel, how my soul may abide in this wretched body. This hot burning fire doth so purify & renew my soul in innocency and cleanness that me thinketh; I am come again to the age of five years. This divine fire doth so inflame me with the love of my neighbour, that it were the greatest joy in the world to me, to die for any man, that liveth in the world. These things did she declare to her ghostly Father to the glory of God, and to the behoof of the world: that we might understand and see the unspeakable love of almighty God towards man, and what wonderful effects the holy Ghost bringeth forth in flexible and ployant hearts: to move us, that be dull of spirit, to the keeping of his holy commandments, in hope of the comfortable rewards, that we are to receive at God's hand, not only in the life to come, but also in this present life.   

How our Lord revealed many high mysteries to the holy maid: and how Marie Magdalen was assigned to her, to be her mother.  
Chap. 18.  
AFter that this holy maid was thus replenished with such great abundance of very singular graces and gifts, it pleased almighty God to reveal unto her diverse and sundry high mysteries, of the which this was one. On a time our Lord appeared to her, to comfort her in her holy purpose, accompanied with our blessed Lady and S. Marie Magdalen: and asked her this question. Daughter, said he, what thing desirest thou? Whereunto she made answer, and said. Lord, thou knowest better than I, what thing is most behoveful for me. And of myself, thou knowest, I have no will nor heart, but only thy will, and thy heart. As she was speaking those words, it came to her mind, how Marie Magdalen committed herself wholly to our Lord, when she sat and wept at his feet. With that she felt the like sweetness in her heart, as Marie Magdalen felt, at what time she wept at our lords feet: whereupon she fixed her eyes upon her. Our Lord seeing that, and withal looking to the inward bent of her mind, to satisfy her godly desire, said these words unto her. Behold, dear daughter, from this time forward I give thee Marie Magdalen to be thy mother: to whom as to a loving mother, thou mayest at all times flee for special comfort: for unto her specially have I committed the government of thee. When she heard that, she gave our Lord most humble thanks: & turning herself to Marie Magdalen with great humility and reverence, she besought her, that she would vowchsafe so to take her under her motherly protection. And from that time forward Marie Magdalen acknowledged the holy maid for her daughter, and she took her evermore for her mother. which thing may seem to be done, not without great mystery, if we consider, what likeness there was between the mother and daughter, in the whole state of their life and conversation.   

How, hanging in the air, she saw certain secrets and high mysteries of God, which it is not lawful to disclose to any man.  
Chap. 19  
THIS holy maid, from the time that she was thus endued with new graces, until the xxxiij. year of her age (at what time she departed out of this life) was so wholly occupied in divine comtemplations, that in all that time she never needed any bodily sustenance. And in those contemplations her soul was so mightily drawn up to heavenly things, that her body also was by the vehemency of the spirit, taken up often times withal, and suspended in the air. At which times she saw many wonderful things, and spoke many high words of heavenly matters, which were heard of diverse and sundry people. On a time her ghostly Father, seeing her so ravished from her bodily senses, and hearing her speak certain words softly to herself, came near to hearken what she said. And standing by her, he heard her speak these words distinctly in latin: Vidi arcana Dei, that is. I have seen the secrets of God. And she repeated the same words often times Vidi arcana Dei. Her ghostly Father afterwards being very desirous to know, what she meant by those words, and why she repeated them so often, asked her after this manner. Good mother, said he, I pray you, tell me, why you repeated those words so often. What is the cause, why you will not declare your secrets to me now as you were wont to do? To that she answered and said, that she might not speak otherwise: why so, said he? why may you not declare the things, that our Lord revealeth unto you, as well now, as you were wont to do? Good Father, said she, I should have as great a conscience, if I should declare the high mysteries, that almighty God hath now revealed unto me, with my defectuous and imperfect tongue, as I should have, if I had blasphemed or dishonoured our Lord in words. For there is so great difference between heavenly things apprehended in an understanding, that is illuminated by God, and the same things uttered by the speech or tongue of man, that me thinketh, they are almost contrary the one to the other. And therefore for this time, I pray you, hold me excused. For the things, that I have seen, are unspeakable. After this great revelation, that our Lord made to her of unspeakable things, it seemed to her, that her heart did leap out of her body, and that it did enter into the side of our Saviour Christ, and there was made one heart with his heart. And at that instant she felt her soul all molten and resolved with the force of his divine love, in such sort, that she cried out with a loud, voice often times. Domine, vulnerasti cor meum. Domine, vulnerasti cor meum. Lord, thou hast wounded my heart. Lord, thou hast wounded my heart. This thing was done upon S. Margaret's Day, in the year of our Lord. 1370.   

How she put her mouth to the side of our Saviour, and drank: and of many other wonderful things, that happened about the blessed Sacrament.  
Chap. 20.  
IT chanced also the same year on S. Laurence day, that this holy maid, coming to the Church to hear Mass, set herself down near to the Altar, as her manner was, that she might the better see the holy Sacrament. And kneeling there devoutly in her prayers, she broke out into weeping and sobbing so much, that her ghostly Father came to her & warned her, that she should refrain so much as was possible, for not molesting the priest at Mass. Whereupon, like a meek and obedient daughter, she removed herself farther from the Altar, and made her humble prayer to our Lord, that he would vouchsafe to illuminate her Confessors heart, that he might see and understand, that such violent motions of the spirit, might not be withholden and kept in by the strength of man: and her priaer was not vain. For it pleased God to make her ghostly Father to understand perfectly by experience, that such fervour of spirit could not be so kept in, but that the force of divine love would needs break out. The which when he understood, he never rebuked her afterwards for any such matter. Now, kneeling after this manner far of from the Altar, she groaned in her heart, and many times also broke out into words, and said after a languishing and ruthful manner. I would feign receive the body of my Lord and Redeemer. I would feign receive the body of my Lord and Saviour jesus Christ. One time, as she was so so crying, behold, our Lord appeared unto her with the wound of his side all open, and bringing her mowth to the same, said. Receive of my flesh, and drink of my blood so much as thou wilt. With that she sucked greedily, and took so much, that it seemed to her, that for very pure love she was at the point of death, by reason of the passing great sweetness, that she felt in her heart. The self same year upon S. Alexius day, this holy maid made her prayer to God, that he would vowchsafe to grant her a fervent and burning desire to receive his most holy body and blood. At what time she understood by revelation, that on the morrow she should receive without all doubt. For she had been forbidden for certain respects, that she should not receive so often. When she had that comfortable revelation, she prayed again to our Lord, that he would vowchsafe to cleanse her heart against the time of receiving, that she might receive the more worthily & to her greater profit. Behold, while she was so praying, she felt a certain reign coming down into her soul, in manner of a great abondant flood, not of water or of any other such liquor, but of blood mingled with fire: which (as it seemed to her) cleansed her soul so mightily, that the strength and operation of the same redounded into the body, and cleansed it also. After this on the morrow, she was so extremely sick; that to her seeming she was not able to move one foot, though the world had lain on it. All the which not withstanding she doubted nothing of the promise made unto her by our Lord: but with a full affiance in him, set herself in the way towards the Church. Wither when she was come, she kneeled down in a chapel besides an Altar, and besought almighty God with great instance, that her ghostly Father might come and say Mass there. (For she had a special inhibition, not to receive at any other priests hand.) And she understood by revelation, that almighty God had granted her that petition also. Now, while she was thus attending there for the performance of all these comfortable promises, her ghostly Father, who before found small disposition in himself to say Mass that day, & knew not of her being there, was suddenly touched at the heart with a very strange fervour and devotion. Whereupon he prepared himself to Mass, and went to the same Altar, where the holy maid was (at which Altar he was never wont to say Mass at other times.) When he came thither and found her there, attending his coming and desiring to communicate, he understood, that it was our Lord, that had moved him, to say Mass that day, and to choose that Altar contrary to his accustomed manner. He said Mass, and at the end (as the manner is) he came to minister the blessed Sacrament to her at the Altars end. While she was receiving, her ghostly Father beheld her, and saw her face all red, and shining, and bedewed with great abundance of tears: whereat he was marvelously astoined. And she, by receiving the blessed Sacrament at that time, was so replenished with the joyous presence of our Lord, and so mightily drawn inward by the unspeakable sweetness that she felt in him, that all the day after she might not speak so much as one word to any creature. On the next day, her Confessor asked her what she eiled, and what the cause was, she had such a goodly shining read in her face the day before, while she was receiving the blessed Sacrament. To whom she answered and said. Father, of what colour my face was at that time, I know not. But this I know very well. When I unworthy wretch received that blessed Sacrament at your hand, it drew me into it after such a sort, that all other things, saving it alone, waxed loathsome unto me, not only temporal things and delights of the world, but also all other comforts and pleasures, were they never so spiritual. Whereupon I made my humble prayer to our Lord, that he would take all such comforts and delights from me, that I might take pleasure in none other thing, but only in him. I besought him also, that he would vouchsafe to take away my will, and give me his will. The which petition he granted me, and said after this manner. Behold, dear daughter, now I give thee my will, by the virtue whereof thou shalt be so strong, that whatsoever shall happen unto thee from this time forward, thou shalt never be altered or moved, but shalt continue evermore in one state. She declared yet furthermore to her Confessor, and said. Father, said she, will you know, how our Lord served me the last day? for sooth he dallied with me, even as a mother is wont to dally with her child, whom she loveth tenderly. She will set her child some times a good way from her, when she mindeth to show him her tette: and there will she suffer him to stand and cry after it. All the which time she taketh pleasure to laugh at the fondness of the child. At the length, when she hath suffered him to cry a good while, she runneth to him with a laughing cheer, & clippeth him in her arms, huggeth and kisseth him, and so giveth him the tette. In like manner did our Lord with me; He showed me the blessed wound in his side, and made, as it were, a certain tender of the same unto me: (but yet a far of.) The which I seeing, for the great desire that I had to put my mowth unto it out of hand, wept abondantly. Our Lord suffered me to weep, and seemed to take pleasure in it. At the length, when I had wept a good while, he came to me with a marvelous sweet and cheerful countenance, and took my soul in his arms, and put my mouth to his blessed wound. Where, by reason of the greedy desire, that I had, my soul entered in all wholly, and sucking there at will, drew out such unspeakable sweetness, and withal such a great knowledge of his divinity and godhead, that, whoso were able to conceive it, would be astoined to consider, how it was possible for my heart not to break, feeling and receiving such abundance of love into it, as it did at that tyme. And he would marvel now also, to think, how it were possible for me to sustain life, having such a continual flaming fire of charity in my heart, as I feel.   

Of certain other revelations showed unto her upon the receiving of the blessed Sacrament. And how she obtained graces for diverse and sundry people.  
Chap. 21.  
THe same year, upon the 18. day of August, when she was to receive the blessed Sacrament, she said with great fervour and devotion these words: Lord, I am not worthy, that thou shouldest enter into my body. And our Lord made her answer again: but I am worthy, that thou shouldest enter into me. And so receiving the blessed Sacrament, it seemed to her, that her soul entered into him, and he into her soul, even as a fish entereth into the water into the fish. And with that she felt herself so mightily drawn up into almighty God, that the powers of her body failing her, she had much a do to return home to her chamber; whether when she was come, she laid herself down upon her hard bed of boards, and lay there for a good space like a stone without any moving. At the length her body was taken up in the air, and there hung for an other space, in the presence of three people, that bare witness of all that happened at that time: and so coming down again, she began, as it were, to awake out of a dead sleep; and, lying very weak and feeble upon her bed, she spoke softly many sweet words, and uttered much good matter of high contemplations, which caused as many as were present to weep. Among other words, that she spoke, she prayed for many people, and for some specially, namely for her Confessor: who was at that time in the Church, and had no mind of any thing, that might move him to devotion, and yet of a sudden found in himself, such a strange and wonderful fervour of devotion, as he never felt the like in his whole life before: whereat he had great wonder. While he was thus casting with himself, what that strange and sudden alteration might mean, one of the sisters, that had heard and seen the whole process of the matter, came in to him, and said; Father, sister Catherine hath prayed for you very much this day, at such an hour. When he heard that, he understood forthwith, that her prayer was the cause of all that gracious alteration in himself. Then he asked that other sister, what manner of prayer the holy maid had made. And she told him, that she had prayed for him and for other, that our Lord would vouchsafe to grant then everlasting life. She told him furthermore, that when the holy maid had made this prayer, she stretched out her hand, and besought our Lord, to grant her this petition. And so taking in her hand again she seemed to make, as though it had been very sore, and said with great sighing these words. O Lord, worshipped mayest thou be; For so was she wont to say, so often as she felt any grief in her body. When her Confessor heard all this, he went forthwith to her lodging, and prayed her, that she would declare all her vision to him. She like an obedient daughter declared unto him the whole vision in such sort, as it is described here before. And when she came to that point, where she prayed for certain special people, she said to him. Father, when I prayed for you and for other, that our Lord would vouchsafe to grant you everlasting life, it pleased his goodness to give me an assured comfort in my heart, that in deed so it should be. With that I besought him that he would grant me some token of the certainty thereof: not that I doubted any thing of his promise, but because I was desirous to have some notable memorial of the same. Then he bade me, that I should stretch out my hand. And I did so. And he put into my hand a nail, and closed the same so fast within my hand, that I felt a great pain in my hand, as if there had been a nail stricken into my hand in deed with an hammer. And so (our Lord be blessed for it) I have in my right hand, one of the marks of my sweet spouse and Saviour, to myself sensible, though to others invisible.   

How she received the blessed marks of our Saviour Christ in the city of Pisa.  
Chap. 22.  
ON a time this holy maid went to the city of Pisa, accompanied with diverse and sundry people: among other doctor Raimundus her ghostly Father was one. When she came thither, she was entertained by a certain worshipful man, whose house stood beside S. christian's chapel: where her Confessor said mass at her request, and ministered the holy Sacrament unto her after her accustomed manner. When she had received, she was forthwith ravished from her bodily senses for a good space. All the which time her Confessor with diverse others a waited there, to see, what would become of her, and to hear some spiritual and comfortable words of her, as they were wont to do commonly, when she came to herself again. Suddenly as they beheld her, the body, that lay prostrate upon the ground, was raised up, and she kneeled upon her knees, strethching up her arms and hands, & showing in her face a marvelous goodly and clear brightness. When she had kneeled after this manner a good while, at the length she fell down suddenly, like one that had received a deadly wound: and soon after that she was restored again to her bodily senses. Then she called for her ghostly Father, and said secretly unto him these words; Father, I give you to understand for certain, that I bear now in my body (by the grace and mercy of God) the blessed marks of my Lord & Saviour jesus Christ. Her Confessor hearing that, asked her, how that might be, and how it had been with her in all that time of her trance. Whereunto she made answer and said; Father, I saw our Lord fastened upon the Cross, coming down towards me and environing me round about with a marvelous beautiful light. With the which gracious sight my soul was so ravished, and had such a passing desire to go and meet with our Lord, that my body was constrained by the very force of the spirit to set itself up, as you might see. Then there came down from the holes of his blessed wounds five bloody beams, which were directed towards the same parts of my body, to wit, to my hands, feet, and heart. With that I cried out to our Lord and said. O Lord, I beseech thee, let no singes of these holy marks appear outwardly to the sight of men. Suddenly, while I was speaking these words, before those beams were fully come down to my body, they changed their colour, out of a sanguine red, into a marvelous brightness and so in the form of a goodly pure light they lighted and rested upon the said parts of my body. When she had thus declared her whole vision, her ghostly Father asked her, whether any of thoses beams came down to her right side or no. She answered, no, but only to her left side upon the heart. He asked her furthermore, whether she felt any sensible pain in those parts, or no. With that she fetched a great sigh, and said. Father, I suffer such a great and sensible pain, in all those five parts of my body, and specially at my heart, that unless almighty God show a new miracle, I can not long endure in this life. That word did her ghostly Father take very good head unto, and he looked diligently, whether he might espy any tokens of sensible pain in those parts of her body. When she had said so much as she would say at that time, they went out of that chapel together towards their lodging: and the holy maid betook herself to her chamber and lay down, and showed such evident tokens of extreme sickness, that as many, as were about her, thought certainly, that she would have died out of hand. Whereupon her Confessor, with certain other, that kept him company, were called, to see that strange case. When they came and saw her in such extremity, they were all overcome with sorrow and heaviness: for though they had seen her oftentimes before in very weak case, yet had they never seen her so feeble, & (to their seeming) so near to death. Nevertheless within a while after she came to herself again, and recovered so much strength, that receiving a little meat, she was able to speak: and said to her ghostly Father, as she had said before, that unless almighty God would by some new miracle continue her life, she had but a little time to endure in this world. When her Confessor heard that, he called all her spiritual children together, both men and women, and besought them with many tears, that they would all with one voice offer up their humble prayer to God, beseeching him, that he would vouchsafe to lend them their mother, that lay at the point of death, for a time, to direct and train them yet further in the paths of spiritual life. They assented all to his request with a very good will, and went with him to the chamber, where the holy maid lay in a trance. And doctor Raimundus in the behalf of them all, spoke unto her after this manner. Good mother, we know well, that your desire is to be with your dear spouse and Lord, our Saviour Christ. But our desire and earnest suit is, that you would take pity on us your poor children, and not leave us thus comfortless and without direction. Your reward is safely laid up for you in heaven, and abideth your coming. But we are in danger of perishing a thousand ways in this tempestuous sea of the world. We know also, good mother, that your dear spouse loveth you so tenderly, that he will deny you nothing, that you ask him. Wherefore we beseech you all with one voice, to make your humble prayer to him, that he will vouchsafe to lend you yet a little time of life among us, for our further instruction in this holy order of life, wherein you have begun to trade us. We will pray with you also: but what are we seely wretches and sinful creatures? we are unworthy to appear before his divine majesty, being, as we are, full of iniquity and subject to many imperfections. And therefore we pray you, dear mother, that our suit may be offered up to almighty God by you: who for the tender love, that you have always showed to us, are like to solicit it more carefully, and for the singular favour, that you have found in his sight, are like to obtain it more certainly. Many such words spoke her Confessor and the rest to her with great heaviness of heart, which they showed more with the tears that they shed, then with the words that they spoke. When they had said, the holy maid made them answer after this manner. It is now long, as you know sense I resigned myself wholly unto God, and have no will of mine own, but do remit all to the direction of his blessed will. True it is, that I love you very entirely, and have a great desire of your salvation. And it is no less true, that he loveth and tendereth you infinitely more, than I do or can do, and that he thirsteth after your salvation, more than I and all men are able to conceive: whereof we have most sufficient testimony, the shedding of his most precious blood. His will therefore be done in this and in all other things. I will not cease to pray for you, howbeit not otherwise, but only that his will be done: which (I know) shallbe best for you, howsoever it fall out. When she had spoken these words, they went aside for a time in great heaviness and perplexity, until the time, that they might hear some more comfortable answer. The next day after, she called her Confessor unto her, and said; Father, I believe, our Lord hath somewhat condescended to your petition: and I hope, you shall understand his will and pleasure touching the same within a short tyme. And as she said, so it proved in deed. For upon the next morrow, which was sunday, she received the blessed Sacrament at her Confessors hand. And as on the sunday before she was brought to very great weakness after the receiving of the blessed Sacrament, so at this time she was marvelously refreshed and strengthened in body. Which seemed strange to as many, as were there present. Then doctor Raimundus, seeing that wonderful and comfortable alteration in her body, said these words. I am now in great hope, that our Lord hath accepted our tears, and that he hath given favourable ear to the humble prayers of us his unworthy servants. With that, for their further assurance and comfort, he asked the holy maid, whether the pain, that she was wont to have in her hands, feet, and side, did continue still, as it did before. Whereunto she made answer and said, that our Saviour Christ had now so wrought in her body, that those wounds or marks, were no more a grief and torment unto her, but rather a passing great joy and sensible comfort: and that our Lord at their instance and suit had granted her a longer time of affliction in this life, which she was glad of, for the love she bore to them.   

How she was ravished in spirit for the space of three days▪ and how afterwards she did penance as long for a word, that escaped her unwares.  
Chap. 23.  
Upon the feast of S. Paul's conversion, this holy maid was marvelously ravished from her bodily senses: and her spirit was so mightily drawn up to heavenward, that for the space of three days & three nights, she was unmovable and without all bodily feeling: in so much that many thought verily, that she had been fully dead. But there were some, that understood her condition better than the rest, who were of opinion, that she should be ravished with S. Paul into the third heaven. At the length, when the three days were ended, she came to herself again. But her spirit was so comforted with the things that had been revealed unto her in that time, that she stood long time after, like one that had been neither fully sleeping, nor fully awaked. In the mean time, while she so stood, there came to her doctor Thomas, her first Confessor, and with him an other Friar called brother Donatus of Florence: who were going to visit a certain holy Eremite in the wilderness. And taking this holy maid in their way, and finding her in this case, they thought, they would prove, whether they might awake her fully, by inviting her to do some work of charity. And so they asked her, whether she would go with them to see that holy man. Yea, said she: not knowing in deed at that very instant, what she said. For as yet she remained in that sleepy state, that she had been in before. But so soon as she perceived, that such a word had passed her, she had such a remorse of conscience, because she had said otherwise, them she minded to do, that, for very grief of mind & sorrow for her offence, she awaked altogether: & as she had been before three days & three nights in a delightful contemplation of heavenly things, so did she likewise continued three days & three nights after a very lamentable manner waling & weeping for her sin, and said to herself. O most wicked and perverse woman, hast thou thus requited the infinite goodness and mercy of thy Lord and Saviour with making a lie? Be these the truths, that thou hast learned in heaven? Be these the fruits of the doctrines, that the holy Ghost hath inspired in thy heart? Thou knewest well, when thou spakest those words, that it was not thy meaning to go with them. And yet thou wouldst say yea, and make a lie to those good men and virtuous priests, that have charge of thy soul. Ah wretched creature. Ah wicked woman. These and other the like words did she speak with an earnest displeasure against herself, and did great penance upon her body, for the space of three days and three nights for that lie, that she had made: (if it may truly be termed a lie, and not rather a word, that escaped her unwares.) Howsoever it was, she was permitted by the providence of God so to slide, and also to have a timorous remorse for her offence, to keep down her heart, that it should not be puffed up with pride, in regard of those heavenly revelations, that she had seen: Which were so great (as she declared afterwards to her ghostly Father) that no tongue of man was able to express them.   

Of certain other revelations: and again of the tenderness of her conscience.  
Chap. 24.  
AT an other time the Apostle S. Paul appeared to her, and gave her warning, that she should give herself earnestly to prayer. The which warning she received with very great obedience, and did in deed set herself wholly to the exercise of prayer: and thereby deserved to have many goodly revelations. Upon S. Dominickes eveen a little before even song time, being in the Church occupied in prayer, many revelations were showed to her by S. Dominicke himself, and by diverse other Saints. The which revelations were so familiar to her, that she was able at one time both to give heed to them, and also to declare the same to others. While she was thus occupied, it chanced, that brother Barthelmewe her Confessors companion entered into the Church: in whom she had as great affiance, as in her Confessor himself: for in her Confessors absence, he was her ghostly Father. When she perceived, that he was come, she arose and went towards him, and said that she had to confer with him concerning certain revelations. Whereupon they sat down together in the Church, and she began to declare to him many strange things, that our Lord had revealed to her. Among other things she declared to him, that at that very instant, while she was speaking to him, she saw her holy father S. Dominicke, there present as well, as she saw the Friar that sat by her, and that he was nearer to her, than the Friar was. In this mean time, while she was thus declaring to him many wonderful revelations, it happened, that her younger brother, whose name was also Barthelmewe, came by. And she (seeing by like the shadow of his body, or else hearing the noise of his feet) cast her eye a little a side and beheld her brother, and so thought to return to her foremer discourse again. But considering with herself, what she had done, she was toched at the heart with such an inward grief for that little distraction, that for a good time she held her peace and spoke not one word, but wept and wailed very bitterly. At the length, the Friar that was there, seeing, that she made no end of weeping, spoke comfortable words unto her, and prayed her, that she would go forward in her godly talk. But she so sobbed and wept that she was not able to give him one word to answer. After a long spcae, when she had won so much of herself, that she was able to speak, she began with herself after this manner. Ah wretch, that thou art: thou shalt surely abide for it. With that Friar Barthelmewe asked her, what offence that should be, that she took so heaviely? Out upon me vile wretch, said she: saw you not, while our Lord was showing me his great mysteries and secrets, how I turned mine eye a side to behold a creature? Then the good man, who had great wonder to see the tenderness of her conscience, and therefore desired to excuse or qualify her offence, said unto her. Surrely mother, it seemeth very strange to me, that you should make so great lamentation for a matter of so light importance for that turning aside; for your eye endured so little time that (I assure you) I could not espy it. O father, said she, if you knew, how sharply our blessed Lady rebuked me for that trespass, undoubtedly you would weep and lament with me. When she had said those words, she held her peace, and would speak no more of her revelations, but continued sorrowing and weeping for her offence, until such time, as she had made her Confession; and so with heavy cheer she went home to her chamber. She declared afterwards to her ghostly Father, that S. Paul appeared to her also, and reproved her so roughly for that little loss of time, that she would rather suffer all the shame of the world, then abide, such an other rebuke at the Apostles hand. And of that rebuke she took occasion to speak to her ghostly Father after this manner. O Father, said she, think you, what a confusion, and shame that shallbe, that all wicked and unhappy sinners shall abide at the later day, when they shall stand before the majesty of God, seeing that the presence of one only Apostle, is so dreadful and intolerable. I assure you, father, the apostles words and countenance were so terrible to me, that, if I had not had comfort of a goodly bright lamp, that stood by, while he spoke to me, I think verily, my heart had never been able to abide the same, but would have died for very sorrow, that it had of that extreme shame and confusion. And thus it pleased God now and then to put her in mind of her own frailty, especially after such great revelations, which otherwise might have moved her heart to pride.   

How it pleased God to reveal to her the worthiness and excellency of the blessed Partriarke S. Dominicke, and of his true children.  
Chap 25.  
ON a time conferring with Friar. Barthelmewe of the revelations, that our Lord had showed unto her among other things she declared, that she had seen, in deed by a vision of imagination, how almighty God the Father brought forth his coequal true Son (as it seemed to her) by his mouth: the which Son in the nature of mankind, which he had taken, showed himself to her also in the substance and form of a true man; She saw likewise, how almighty God brought forth the glorious patriarch S. Dominicke, not out of his mouth, but out of his breast, environed round about with a marvelous goodly light and brightness. And she heard a voice, proceeding from the mouth of almighty God, which said these words. Dear daughter, I have brought forth (as thou seest) these two sons, the one naturally, & the other by adoption. She was much amazed at the strangeness of that comparison, made between the Son of God and S. Dominicke. Whereupon the voice proceeded and declared the meaning of it after this manner. As this my natural Son was in his human nature, which he took, evermore most perfectly obedient to me, even to death: so was this my some by adoption obedient to me in all points, even from his childhood to his dying day, and directed all his works according to my commandments, and kept that purity both of body and soul, which he received of me in Baptism clean and unspotted until the end of his life. And as this my natural Son spoke openly to the world, and gave a most clear testimony to the truth, that I put in his mouth: even so did this my son by adoption, preach the truth of my gospel as well to heretics and schismatics, as also among my faithful people. And as this my natural Son sent out his disciples to publish the gospel to all creatures: so doth this my son by adoption now at this present, and shall hereafter from time to time, send out his brethren and children under the yoke of his holy obedience & discipline. And for this cause is it granted to him and his by special privilege, that they shall have the true understanding of my words, and shall never serve from the same. And as this my natural Son ordained the state of his whole life in deeds and words, to the salvation of souls: even so did this my Son by adoption employ himself wholly, both in his doctrine, and in example of life, to deliver souls from the snares of the devil, which are error and sin. And that was his principal intent, when he first founded his order, to wit, to win souls out of the bondage of error and sin, and to bring them to the knowledge of truth, and withal to the exrcise of a godly and Christian life. And for these causes do I liken him to my natural Son. This was the revelation, which she had at that time, while she was conferring with Friar Barthelmewe in the Church: at what time she chanced to cast her eye aside, as it is declared before.   

How the holy virgin, being wholly inflamed with the love of God, desired instantly to be loosed from this life, and to be with Christ: and how by that mean she obtained to bear in her body, every particular pain, that our Saviour Christ suffered for us.  
Chap. 26.  
THis holy virgin was now replenished with such abundance of grace, that she bestowed in a manner the whole time of her life in heavenly contemplations: by reason whereof, being often times ravished in spirit and abstracted from her bodily senses, she became so feeble and faint, that she was constrained to keep her bed. Where she lay, as it were, in a continual longing & languishing after her spouse: with the divine love of whom she was so much inflamed, that she might not well reason or think of any other thing, but only of him. And many times, by reason of the vehemency of that holy fire burning in her heart, she broke out into these words, and repeated the same again and again: O my most sweet and lovely Lord, Son of God. O my most dear & amiable spouse, Son of the B. virgin Marie. With such words did she express the inward groaning and melting of her heart. This was her morning and evening song: this her repast, when she was hungry: this her rest after labour. In this time our Lord appeared unto her oftentimes: which also increased the fire in her heart: in so much that on a time being overcome with the heat of the same, she began (like one that were impatiently set to have a thing) as it were to quarrel and expostulate with him, saying. O my most sweet and lovely Lord, O dear spouse of my soul, wherefore dost thou suffer me to be holden here prisoner in the dungeon of this wicked world? Wherefore dost thou not lose my bands, and call me away to thy blissful tabernacles? Dost thou not see, o Lord, that there is nothing under the sun, wherein I can take delight? Dost thou not know, that I do love no creature in this world, but only in thee, or for thee? Dost thou not see, o eye of heaven which seest all things, that all things are to me unsightly and yrckesome, the beauty of thy divine majesty only excepted, whereon my heart is fixed? wherefore then dost thou suffer this my wretched body to be so long a let and stay, that I can not come and have the joyful fruition of that most excellent beauty, that I so much desire? O my most gracious and amiable Lord, O most sweet love of my heart, suffer me no longer to dwell in this earthy and foul prison, but take me out, and call me to dwell with thee in thine everlasting tabernacles. To these words proceeding from such a loving and languishing spirit, our Lord answered sweetly after this manner. Dear daughter, when I lived in earth, I laboured to fulfil not mine own will, but the will of my Father. And though I had an earnest desire to eat that last passover with my disciples (as they heard me say often times) and so to be with my Father: yet did I patiently abide the time, that my Father had ordained. Thus much I tell thee, to instruct thee by mine own example, that, though thou have a fervent desire to be perfectly united to me in bless, yet must thou tarry the time, that I have appointed. Unto the which words she made answer readily, and said. O Lord, seeing it is thy pleasure, that I shall not yet pass out of this life, thy blessed will be done in all things, both in heaven and in earth. But yet one thing I most humbly beseech thee, seeing it is so, that I may not be united to thee in bless, during the time of mine abode here in this life, grant me thus much: that I may be united to thee at the least in thy passion, and that I may have a feeling of every particular pain and torment, thou didst suffer for me on the Cross, even to the yielding up of thy most holy spirit. Thus she prayed with great vehemency of spirit, and our Lord gave favourable ear to her petition; for (as she declared afterwards secretly to her Confessor) our Saviour Christ never suffered any kind of pain in his body, which she did not likewise suffer in some degree. And therefore she took a passing great delight to reason of the Cross and passion of our Saviour Christ: and she revealed diverse and sundry strange mysteries, and made many goodly expositions upon certain places of the gospel, such as were never by any of the holy doctors before.   

How, bearing the Cross of Christ continually in her body, she took great delight to reason of the same: and how she revealed many strange mysteries upon the holy scriptures concerning the Cross.  
Chap. 27.  
Reasoning at diverse and sundry times of the Cross of Christ, she would take occasion to utter many goodly doctrines and sentences, which were of great force and efficacy to stir up the minds of the hearers to the love of Christ crucified. Among other things she affirmed constantly, that our Saviour Christ did, from the very hour of his conception to the end of his life, bear a continual Cross in his heart. And of this doctrine she gave a very good reason after this manner. Is it not most certain, said she, that our Saviour Christ the mediator between God and man, true God and true man, was at the very point of his conception replenished, in the highest and most perfect degree, with all fullness of grace, knowledge, wisdom, and charity? In so much that it was not necessary for him to learn aught of any creature in heaven or in earth. Then, being so replenished with charity, it folweth necessarily, that he had in himself the love both of God and also of his neighbour in the highest perfection. And being replenished with knowledge, it followeth likewise, that he saw most clearly two points: the one, that almighty God was deprived of his honour, fear, and reverence, that man owed unto him: the other, that man was deprived of everlasting bliss, which was dew to him for the said honour, fear, and reverence. And of this love and knowledge, it must needs be, that he bore a marvelous heavy and continual Cross in his soul, which had evermore such a great and vehement thirst, to the honour of God, and to the salvation of man. And because he knew, that the restitution both of the one and the other, to wit, both of the honour of God, and also of the salvation of man, was appointed by God to be wrought by the mean of his Cross: therefore he had evermore a marvelous great desire to come unto it: which desire was undoubtely a very cordial and continual Cross unto him, and never ended, until the time came, that his body was in deed stretched out and nailed upon the tree of the Cross. She reasoned yet further concerning that Cross of desire, and said thus. No man living is able to make a just estimate of the pains and torments, that our Saviour suffered in his heart, by reason of the desire, that he had, to pay the debt of mankind, to deliver them from the sentence of death, and to bring them again into the favour of God. They only, that love God with all their heart, with all their soul, with all their strength, and their neighbour as themselves, may guess in some degree, what his pain was. Such good men may, judge in part by the love that they have themselves to the honour of God and salvation of man, and by the grief, that they feel in themselves, when the thing, that they love, is either taken away or long delayed, what his grief was. They may judge, I say, in part, & not perfectly: forsomuch as the love, that man hath or can have, to the honour of God and salvation of man, be it never so great, is nothging in comparison of that passing great love, that was in the heart of our Saviour Christ. And therefore the desire that he had to recover both the one and the other, must needs cause in him a greater sorrow without all comparison, than ever was or could be in man: until he saw an effectual and perfect restitution made, to God of his honour and reverence: to man of his former state of grace in this present life, and of glory in the life to come. And thus much he signified to his disciples, when he said those words: I have had an earnest desire to eat this passover with you: and afterwards likewise, when in his prayer to God the father he said: Father, take away this cup from me. Which is as if he had said in plain words. Father, I see here prepared for me a very bitter cup of most sharp torments and death, which I have drunk continually in desire even from the hour of my conception, but now do begin to drink the same in deed, and so to make an end of drinking this painful potion of the Cross: which I desire thee to hasten and bring to an end. For that being once passed and gone, I shall reap the fruit of my long and earnest desire, to wit, I shall have fulfilled mine obedience in all points to thee, restitution shallbe made perfectly, to God of his due honour, to man of his foremer state. And I desire not to have this cup of my passion taken away, which thou hast here made ready for me, which I take at thy fatherly hand like an obedient son and drink it willingly: but I desire to have that cup taken away from me and ended, which I have drunk with such an earnest and greedy desire so many years for the love that I bear to thine honour, and to the salvation of mankind. This was the exposition, that she made upon this place of the gospel against the which, (because it seemed strange and singular) her ghostly Father doctor Raimundus reasoned after this manner. Mother, said he, you know, that the holy Fathers do commonly give an other interpretation to this place, almost contrary to this, that you have said. They say that our Lord desired, in deed rather not to drink that cup, then to drink it: meaning thereby to declare to us, that he was true man, and that, as true man, his flesh did naturally abhor death, as the flesh of every man doth. And by this he would give a doctrine, and withal an example in himself, to all weak and frail men, that they should not be dismayed, though they felt in themselves, that they did fear death. Forsomuch as the like fear & frailty was seen in our head also, who took upon him all our infirmities, only sin excepted. To this the holy maid made answer thus. Father, said she, I know right well, that the holy doctors do expound this place, as you have said: and I find no fault with their exposition. And though this interpretation, that our Lord hath taught me, seem diverse or almost contrary (as you think) to that, yet is it very true, and may well stand with the common exposition of the holy Fathers; Father, it is certain, that our Saviour Christ was head, not only of the weak and frail, that fear and flee death, but also of the strong and mighty, that bear it manfully, and yield not to the fear and shrynking of the flesh. And therefore he would in this act and words, give a doctrine and example to them both. He would tremble, and fear, and desire that the bitter cup of his passion might pass away, to give an example to the weak, that they might likewise fear and flee death without any offence (if they had no commandment from God to the contrary) He would also overcome that fear and quaking of the flesh by the force of reason and zeal of God's honour, and desire his Father to hasten that cup of his passion and death: to give an example to the strong that they should not yield to the frailty, of the flesh, and shrink at the terror of death, but follow the direction of the spirit, and offer themselves valiantly to torments and to death itself, when by so doing, they might either honour God, or edify their neighbour. And I see no cause, why one place of the scripture should not have many interpretations: forsomuch as the holy scripture (as you know) hath many senses and meanings. Which the holy Ghost hath so ordained, that the holy scripture might serve diverse and sundry people, to diverse and sundry effects. As we see this present text being diversely expounded, serveth men of diverse quality to very good purpose: The weak for a refuge, if they retire and save themselves: the strong for a warrant, if they step forward, and offer themselves to evident danger for God's sake. Then, if you ask me, how these two interpretations may stand together, the one being contrary to the other: (for by the one our Saviour required, that the cup of his passion might be hastened, by the other, that it might pass away) I answer, that I take it for none inconvenience, that in that agony, he should have those two contrary effects in himself, the one according to the flesh, whose property it is, naturally to repine at any thing that may hurt: the other according to the spirit, which, looking to the honour of God and salvation of mankind, desired earnestly the bitter cup of his death, by the drinking whereof he knew right well, that both the one and the other should be restored. When her Confessor had heard this reason & discourse, he replied no more, but held his peace, for in deed he was astoined, and knew not, what to answer to the wisdom and spirit of God, that spoke in her.   

another exposition upon the same place of the gospel, with certain other, mystical sayings. And how she passed in deed out of this life in the pains of the Cross.  
Chap. 28.  
BEing on a time ravished in spirit, she learned an other exposition upon this place of the gospel, which her Confessor douctour Thomas committed to writing: and it was thus. Our Lord, said she, approaching near to his passion, set before the eyes of his mind that great multitude of wicked men and women, which he saw, through malice and obstinacy would not take the benefit of his death. The which sight put him into such an agony, that he sweat water and blood, & for very pity, that he had of those miserable creatures, he was, as it were, enforced to utter those words; Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me. Which is as much, as if he had said; Father, this cup, that is here presented before me, is surely a very bitter cup to me, seeing (as I do to my great grief) the damnation of so many souls, which without any cause shall make light of this great love, that I am here to show to mankind, and lose the benefit of my blood, which is now ready to be powered out for their sake. Wherefore, if it be possible, I beseech thee, that thou wilt pardon them, and in so doing take away this bitter cup from me. This, said she, was the prayer, that our Saviour made to his eternal Father. And she added furthermore and said, that he had without all doubt obtained the thing, that he demanded, if he had requested the same absolutely and without condition: for what petition could he make to his Father, that should not have been heard: who (as the Apostle saith) was heard for the very reverence, that was in himself? But as on the one side the tender love, that he bore to mankind, won so much of him, that he made that petition in their behalf: so on the other side, the love of God's justice moderated the vehemency of his love towards mankind, and caused him to qualify his earnest demand, with this clause and condition: howbeit; O Father, not my will be done, but thine. This holy maid declared yet further to her confessor and said, that the pains, which our Saviour suffered for the redemption of mankind, were so excessively great, that it had been impossible for any man in this world to endure the same, but that he must needs have died, if it had been possible, many times. For as the love, that he bore to mankind, was unspeakable and incomprehensible: so were the pains, that he suffered for their love, so great that no man had been able to esteem them, and much less to bear them. What man, said she, would have believed, that those thorns of his crown, should have pierced through his skull into his brains? And yet so it was. Again, who would have thought, that the bones of a man should have been drawn a sunder and disjointed? And yet the prophet David saith: They told all my bones, speaking of the unmerciful and cruel tormentors, which haled and pulled him here & there so violently, that they plucked his bones out of joint. Certain it is, that the malice of those wicked jews was very great, and that they used him very cruelly: and yet could not their malicious and cruel usage have done it, but only that his will was (to show his unspeakable love towards us) as it were utterly to forsake himself, and to suffer his body to be destitute of all such force and strength, as might make any resistance against pains and torments. So that the principal cause of his passion was, the desire, which he had, of showing his love to us evidently and effectually. It was not the violent hand of those tormentors, that were able to hold him (whom he made to fall down at his foot with one word of his mouth.) It was not the nails, that were able to hold him fast to the Cross: (which were his creatures, and had no further power upon their Creator, but only so much as he would give them:) but it was the love, that he bore to mankind that took him: it was love, that held him fast: it was love, that nailed him fast to the Cross, and made him there to endure a most bitter and reproachful death. Such high words and sentences did she utter to her confessor concerning the passion of our Saviour. And she affirmed furthermore, that, whatsoever pains our Saviour had borne in any part of his body, the same had she borne in her body also, in like manner as our Saviour did, but not in like measure (for that had been impossible for her body to bear) And to show, in deed, that she knew by exeperience, which of all those pains was greatest, she said, that all the other pains were passed and gone, but one remained still in her body, which was the diwlsion (as they term it) or sundering of the bones in the breast: which pain was of all other pains (as she said) most grievous. Now this pain of the breast grew on so vehemently upon her, and withal the love of our Saviour, to whom she was conformed by suffering such pains, increased so mightily in her heart, that she was wholly overcome with the force of the same, and her heart, like a thin glass filled with a very strong liquor, being not able to bear the strength of that divine love, braced in sunder (as she declared afterwards) and cleft in the middle from the highest to the lowest part of the same. And certain it is, that she died in deed in the presence of many virtuous and credible people, and so continued a long tyme. Of this matter she made mention afterwards in a letter written to her ghostly Father with her own hand: in the which letter she declared among other things, how she was taught by S. john the Evangelist and S. Thomas of Aquine, to write in a very short space.   

How she passed in deed out of this life, and had the fruition of heavenly joys: and how afterwards her soul came again to the body.  
Chap. 29.  
HEr ghostly Father being desirous to learn the very certainty of this matter at her own mouth, on a time reasoning with her, besought her, that she would tell him plainly, what had passed. She stood still a great while, and could not give him one word to answer for weeping: but at the length she spoke after this manner. O father said she, is it not a pitiful and lamentable case, that a soul, which hath been once delivered out of a dark, prison, and hath had the fruition of a most joyous and beautiful light, should be constrained to forsake that goodly light, and to return again to dwell in his former dark and stinking dungeon? O good Father, I am that wretched creature, upon whom this calamity is fallen by the ordinance of God for my sins. How so said he? Forsooth, said she, the fire of God's love was at that time so strong in my heart, and the desire which I had to be united to him, so vehement, that though my heart had been of stone or of iron, it must needs have broken in sunder. And therefore I give you thus much to understand for certain, that my heart was in deed undone and opened from the uppermost part to the neither, only by the violence of that mighty love: which, I believe, was of such force, that no creature in this world had been able to abide it: in so much that, me thinketh, I feel yet certain tokens of that clefte in my heart. And so often as it cometh to my mind, what a blissful state my soul was in, in that mean time, while it was separated from my body, I can not but weep & lament for my return again to this vale of misery. With that her Confessor prayed her, that she would make a declaration of the whole matter from the beginning. Whereunto she made answer and said. Father, after that I had been fed and comforted a long time with diverse and sundry revelations and visions, which it pleased our Lord of his great mercy to show unto me, at length for very pure love I fell so sick, that I was constrained to keep my bed. Where lying, I made my humble petition to our Lord, that he would vouchsafe to deliver me out of this wretched world and unite me perfectly to himself. Which petition as then he would not hear. But yet he granted me thus much, that I should suffer, in the time of mine abode in this life, all the pains of his Cross and passion: by the suffering whereof I should both learn the better, how passing great his love was towards me, and also be stirred, by the example of his unspeakable love, in some degree to love him again. And so in deed it came to pass, that seeing (as it were) by an evident experience in myself, how great love our Saviour bare to me, and how intolerable pains he suffered for my sake, I was wholly overcome with the force of such inestimable kindness, and my heart being not able to bear the strength of so much love, as it had conceived, broke in sunder: by reason whereof my soul was also delivered out of this mortal body, and had the fruition of his divine majesty (howbeit but for a little time: which was my great grief.) Then said doctor Raimundus to her. I pray you, good mother, tell me, how long was your soul out of your body? And what things did you see in that time? With that she fetched a deep sigh, & said; Faher, those that were about my body, & made preparation for my burial, said, that it was about a four hours. In the which time I saw the divine essence of almighty God: which causeth me now to live with such discontentation of mind and misliking of all things here in the world. And had it not been for the zeal, that I have, to the honour of God, and edifying of mine even Christians, for whose sakes my soul was restored again to the body, without all doubt I must needs have died for sorrow. And now the greatest comfort, that I have in the world, is, that I know and am well assured, that the more I suffer in this life, the more blessed I shallbe in the life to come. And therefore all tribulations are to me, not uncomfortable and yrckesome, but rather comfortable (as you see) and delightful. I saw also the pains of the damned in hell, and of those likewise, that are in purgatory: which were so great, that no tongue of man is able to express them. I assure you Father, if wretched sinners might see those horrible pains and torments, they would rather choose to suffer an hundred deaths in this world (if it were possible) then to endure the least pain, that is there, for the space of one day. But above others, I saw, that they were specially punished, which had broken their faith and promise given in matrimony, not keeping themselves within the honest bounds and yoke of wedlock, but following the inordinate lusts of their flesh and sensuality. Which was so ordained, not because the breach of weddelocke is the most heinous offence, that is there punished (for there be many greater sins) but because the offenders in this vice for the most part had never had any remorse of conscience for this offence, as they had for the rest of their sins: and also because they had commonly fallen more often into this sin, then to any other: for many times a sin, which is in itself not so great, displeaseth God highly, if it be oftentimes committed, and no care had of amendment by contrition and penance. Now, when I had seen all these things, and had conceived withal a most certain hope, that, for mine own part, I was passed all pains, and come to a state of all joy and gladness, our Lord said unto me. Daughter, seest thou not these unhappy sinners and transgressors of my laws, on the one side what joys they have lost, and on the other side what pains they have found? for this cause have I showed these things to thee, because I will have thee to return again into the world, to declare to my people their sins and iniquities, and withal the great peril and pain, that hangeth over them, if they will not amend. When I heard, that I should return to the world again, I was stricken with a marvelous great fear and horror. Whereupon our Lord, to comfort me again, spoke thus sweetly unto me. Daughter, there are a great number of souls in the world, which I will have to be saved through thy means: and that is the cause, why I send thee thither again. Wherefore go thy way with a good will, and be of good comfort. From this time forward my will is, that thou shalt change the order of thy life. Thou shalt no more keep within thy cell, but go abroad into the world to win souls. Thou shalt bear my name before all sorts of men, high and low, clerks and secular. I will bring thee before the bishops and head prelate's in my Church, to confownd their pride. Be not afraid to confer with them in high points concerning the salvation of souls. For I will give thee a wit to conceive, and withal a mouth to speak in such sort, that none shallbe able to withstand thee. While our Lord spoke these words to me, of a sudden my soul was restored to the body. The which when I perceived, for very sorrow I wept three days and three nights, and never ceased. And yet to this day, I can not possibly abstain from weeping, when it cometh to my mind, how I was deprived of that passing great joy and felicity, and sent back again to this dark prison of my body. Thus much I thought good to signify to you, father, and to others also for this end, that when you understand, what a blissful state of life, I have foregone for a time (God knoweth how long) and that I have foregone the same by the ordinance of God, for the weal and edifing of souls, you should not marvel hereafter, if you see, that I bear a great love to them, who have cost me so dear, and that, to win them to God, I do alter the state of my life, and converse with them more familiarly, than I have done hitherto. When doctor Raimundus had heard thus much, he gave a great charge to as many as were present of the brethren and sisters, that they should in no wise utter any part of her talk, so long as she lived. For being a wise man he saw, that wordly people (such as had not wholly and perfectly subjecteth all their understanding to the power of Christ) were like to take more harm by it, then good. And he saw then presently by experience, that some of her own scholars, which had before that time heard and followed her doctrine, went backward, because they were not able to apprehend the high mysteries, that she uttered unto them. But after her death, fearing lest he should have offended God, if he had concealed such great works and wonders, he committed all to writing, for the benefit of the posterity. For further confirmation whereof, I think it not amiss, to touch briefly a very notable thing, that it pleased our Lord to work by her, while she was so separated from her body. At what time this holy maid drew near to her death, to the seeming of such as were about her, there resorted unto her diverse and sundry of her spiritual children, to see the manner of her passage: and with them many devout people, both men and women. By whom her Confessor doctor Thomas was also sent for, to be present at her departure, and to help her (as the manner is) with the prayers and Sacraments of holy Church. Who came speedily, and three other of his brethren with him. When they saw, that she had given up the Ghost, they lamented all for the loss of their dear mother: but above the rest one of the religious brethren, whose name was brother john of Sienna, sorrowed so much, and wept so vehemently, that he broke a vain in his breast; by reason whereof he coughed and avoided great gobbets of blood. Which was an occasion of double sorrow to as many, as were there: for both they lamented the decease of the holy virgin, which was already gone, and also the peril of that good man, who with such pain was not like to continue long after. Whereupon doctor Thomas her Confessor, being inwardly moved with compassion, said to that sick Friar with a great faith and affiance in God. Brother john, you know that this holy maid was of very great merit and estimation in the sight of almighty God for her virtuous conversation. Wherefore take her hand and, put it to the place of your body, where you feel yourself aggrieved. And I doubt not but that you shall find help and comfort. He did, as he was willed: and forthwith the disease of his breast left him and, never came again so long as he lived. There was present at all these doings, besides these afore named, one of her spiritual daughters called Alexa, who departed out of this world not long after. There were also two other of the sisters of penance, who came to make the body ready for the burial. One of them was named Catherine, which had been her companion long time in religion: the other was her cozen, and was called Pisa. These spiritual persons with many other, gave testimony for the truth of all this matter: but above all others, Friar John did not only testify it in words, as other did, but also declared the manner of it, and affirmed it constantly in all places wheresoever he became.   

How she had a marvelous devotion and longing after the blessed Sacrament: and how she bore many reproaches and slanders for the same.  
Chap. 30.  
THis holy maid had such an earnest longing after the blessed Sacrament of our lords body and blood, and received the same so often, that many of them, that resorted to that Church, and saw her very often at the Altar to receive, supposed that she had communicated daily. Which was an occasion of great trouble both to her and to her Confessor, by certain undiscreet and ignorant persons, who being puffed up with an opinion of knowledge, and withal pretending some colour of piety, said, that her often receiving was not to be liked, because it would in time cause her to have the blessed Sacrament in less reverence and estimation. Which vain and ignorant supposition her Confessor answered very learnedly, alleging most certain and infallible grounds, first out of the Acts of the Apostles, where it is written by S. Luke, that the disciples of Christ, and such as were newly turned to the faith by them, did continue daily in breaking of bread, that is, in receiving of the blessed Sacrament: then also out of S. Denyse S. Paul's scholar, who declareth likewise in his book entitled Ecclesiastica Hierarchia, that in the primitive Church, the faithful people did use to communicate every day: and last of all out of the holy gospel, where we are taught by our Saviour himself to say in our daily prayer: give us this day our daily bread. Which bread may in deed signify our bodily food and sustenance, but not only, nor principally: for the bread, that we ought principally to seek at God's hand every day, is the bread of our soul, or rather (to speak truly) the bread of our soul and body: Which is the body and blood of our Saviour Christ, really & substantially ministered unto the faithful people in the Church under the form of bread in the holy Sacrament of the altar. But contrariwise for confirmation of their opinion, they alleged to the holy maid a saying of S. Augustine, whose words are these. To communicate daily, is a thing, which I neither praise nor blame. Which fond allegatiton she answered herself very prettily, saying. If it be so, said she, that S. Augustine will not blame me, wherefore do you blame me? As who should say. If S. Augustine, who was a great learned man, and knew how to direct his judgement by the rules of God's word, durst not take upon him to determine the matter, lest he should seem to set himself a judge over other men's consciences: how dare you to judge of my conscience, and to blame me for often receiving: considering that the thing, being in itself indifferent, is made either very good or very evil, according to the disposition of the person that receiveth: very good and wholesome, if it be received worthily, very evil and pernicious, if it be received unworthily? If S. Augustine had known, that it had been evil to receive daily, he would not have said, that he did neither like nor dislike of it, but would have said in plain terms, that he did utterly mislike it. How much better were it for such rash judgers of other men's consciences to hearken to S. Ambrose, who inviteth them to receive daily with these words? Take this bread, saith he every day: because you have need every day to be purged, restored, & comforted. And the angelique doctor S. Thomas after a long discourse had about this matter, concludeth in the end, that such people, as find themselves to have a greater devotion and reverence to the blessed Sacrament by their often receiving, may safely receive it often times. And surely this increase of devotion & reverence was evidently seen in the holy maid: in whom it was noted by diverse and sundry people that conversed with her, but especially by her ghostly Father, who sat at the stern of her conscience, that the oftener she comunicated, the more she increased in humility, in holy fear, in fervour of devotion, in charity, in patience, & in all other virtues. And when she might not communicate (as it happened sometimes by reason of certain urgent & necessary lets) she had a certain fainting & languishing pain, not only in her soul but also miraculously in her body, which was more grievous to her, then if she had been sick of a burning ague or any other bodily infirmity. Which point could never be persuaded to diverse of the religious people, that lived in house with her: who did, what in them lay, to hinder her from so often receiving; whereby they put her to marvelous intolerable pains. But her ghostly father, who knew in deed the state of her soul, condescended easily to her earnest and holy demand, and was evermore very ready to minister the blessed Sacrament unto her: because (being a wise & learned man) he understood that her desire and longing was of God. To whom when she came to require the blessed Sacrament she was wont to speak very sweetly after this manner. Father, I am hungry. I pray you for gods love give me the bread of life. In respect of the which good mind and devotion towards the blessed Sacrament, Pope Gregory the ninth made her a grant, that she might choose for her ghostly father what priest she would, and that she might carry with her a portable altar, whether soever she went: to the end that she might confess and receive, where and when she would.   

How our Saviour Christ ministered the blessed Sacrament unto her with his own holy hand.  
Chap. 31.  
ON a time doctor Raimundus making his abode in Sienna, for certain business, that he had there to do, came one morning to visit the holy maid, and found her very sore pained with diverse and sundry diseases, but specially with a great griping in the flank commonly called Iliaca passio. All the which pain notwithstanding, after certain conference had between them concerning the worthiness and excellency of the blessed Sacrament, she besought him, that she might receive that morning. Whereunto he assented with a good will, and so went to the Church to prepare himself to say mass. But her pains increased so vehemently upon her, that she sent one of her sisters after him, to entreat him to tarry a little while, hoping after a time to have some such release of her pains, that she might be able to come to the Church. Where withal he was well contented, and abode her leisure, till it was about noon. At what time she found some ease, and came in deed to the Church to communicate. But before she had signified so much to the father, certain of the sisters, which saw that the time was far spent, and knew also, that her manner was after she had received, to be ravished in spirit and so to continue for the space of three, four, or five hovers, came to her and persuaded with her, that she should abstain from receiving that day, in consideration that the time was past, and that it would be a great trouble to the brethren, who must attend so long to shut the Church doors, when all was done. Which counsel she yielded unto with great meekness. But yet she had such an impatient desire to receive, that she turned herself to our Lord after a ruthful manner, and said. O my dear Lord and sweet comfort of all afflicted hearts, seeing it hath pleased thee so graciously to put this desire into my heart, I most humbly beseech thee, that it may also please thee to perform the same by thyself, which can not be performed by men without their great trouble and disquiet. Our Lord, who never despiseth the desire of a good heart, heard the inward groaning of his hand maid, and gave her comfort, that he would accomplish her godly request not only mercifully, but also marvelously. Whereupon she sent one of her sisters to doctor Raimundus, to pray him to begin mass at his pleasure: for she might not receive at his hand that day. With that he went to mass, supposing that she had not been in the Church, but at home in her chamber. And after sacring, when the time was to break the holy Host: he thought to break it (according to the manner and ordinance of holy Church into three parts. But behold, contrary to his meaning and expectation he saw four parts. Of the which, one part skipped from above the chalice, where he held it in his hand, and laid itself down upon the corporal, to his seeming. Where he beheld it advisedly, and afterwards when he received, sought for it diligently, and so did he likewise, when Mass was done, both on the corporal, and on the altar, and all about beside the altar, and upon the ground, but could never find it. Which put him in a great maze and perplexity of conscience. Whereupon he thought good to take the advise of his prior: (who was accounted a very discrete and godly man) and so in the mean time covered the altar, and gave a great charge to the Sacristane to see, that none should come near the altar, till he came again. Now, as he was going, in the way he met with the prior of the Carthusians (his very friend and familiar) who came to confer with the holy maid of certain matters, and therefore prayed him, that he would bring him to her speech. I beseech you, said doctor Raimundus, have a little patience, while I go and speak two words with our Father prior, and I will return with all possible speed, and bring you to her cell. Sir, said he, I may not tarry▪ for this is (as you know) a solemn fasting day with us, and I must needs eat this day with my brethren in the refectory. The time is far spent, (as you see) and I have well nigh three mile's home. Wherefore I must desire you for God's love to dispatch me, as soon as you can. For I am moved in conscience to talk with her of certain matters, when doctor Raimundus heard that, for very charity he left his own business undone, and went with him towards the holy maids chamber, supposing to have found her there. But when he came thither and asked for her: the sisters answered, that she was gone to Church. To Church, said he? when went she to Church? for sooth, said they, before Mass: and there she hath continued ever sense. With that he was much astoined, and turned back again to the Church with the prior of the Carthusians, where he found her in deed in a corner kneeling upon her knees, ravished in spirit (as her manner was to be) & some other of the sisters with her. To whom he spoke, and prayed them, that they would use such means as they might conveniently, to bring her to herself again so soon as were possible: For there was there with him a friend of his, that had a great desire to speak with her, and yet might not tarry long. Now, when she was come to herself again, doctor Raimundus took her aside, and in few words opened his own case to her: that he might give place to his friend, whose urgent business required a more speedy dispatch. When she had said, she smiled on him after a comfortable manner, and asked him, whether he had used such diligence, as was requisite, in seeking that piece. Whereunto he answered, that he had sought it with as great diligence, as was possible. If you have done so, said she, why are you so careful? With that she smiled again, and went towards the prior of the Charterhowse, to speak with him. In the mean time doctor Raimundus remained somewhat comforted, but not fully satisfied: until he might know in deed, what was become of it. So soon as she had done with the prior, and satisfied him in all such demands, as he made unto her: she returned again to doctor Raimundus: who, being very desiours to understand the truth of the matter, began with her after this sort. Mother, said he, it is you (I trow) that hath taken away this piece of the holy Host. No for sooth, father, said she: it was not I, but an other that took it away from you, and therefore take no more care for it: for I assure you, you shall never find it. Then doctor Raimundus prayed her, that she would declare to him the whole process of the matter: which she did with a good will, to the honour of God, and to satisfy his careful mind. Father, said she, be you no more careful for that piece of the blessed Host. For I tell it to you, as to my ghostly father, that it was brought to me, and I received it at the reverend hands of our most blessed Lord and Saviour jesus Christ. And, that you may understand the cause also, I think it good to make yet a further declaration of the matter unto you. Father, it is so, that I was this morning in purpose, and had withal a very earnest desire to receive. But my sisters gave me counsel to the contrary: bicawse my receiving was like to be troublesome to some of the brethren: who (as they said) grudged somewhat at it: whereupon I thought with myself to follow not mine own will, but their advise. But my desire was so great, that, when I saw, that I could not receive at the hands of men without their great trouble and disquet: I turned myself to God, and besought him in most humble wise, that he would vouchsafe to help his poor handmaid. Our gracious Lord heard my petition: and so forthwith appeared unto me, and ministered that fourth part, that you speak of, to me with his own hands. wherefore good Father, be you of good comfort, for you have lost nothing: and I have found that whereby I remain marvelously well refreshed and satisfied. When doctor Raimundus heard that, he was likewise fully satisfied: and so departed towards his covent, praising and magnifying the infinite goodness of almighty God, who filleth the hungry with good things, and giveth the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, to them that serve him in holiness and righteousness, and keep themselves with a wary and fearful regard from all such things, as, they think, may in any degree offend his divine majesty.   

How her face did shine like an angel, while she was receiving the blessed Sacrament: and of certain other strange signs▪  
Chap. 32.  
ON a time doctor Raimundus returning from Avignon to Sienna, went to visit the holy maid: and entering into her lodging▪ about noon tide, found her praying in her oratory. (This thing happened upon S. Marckes day the Evangelist.) When she saw him, she rose up after a civil manner, as it were to welcome him, and said these words. O father, if you knew, how hungry my soul is. Doctor Raimundus understood well, what she meant, and therefore made her answer, that the time was far spent, and that he was himself so weary of his journey, that he could hardly dispose himself to say Mass that day. With that she held her peace a little while: and soon after brake out again & said; Father, I am very hungry. Then doctor Raimundus, to satisfy her impatient desire (which, he knew, was of God) prepared himself to Mass, in her own chapel not far from her lodging, which she had peculiar to herself by special licence from the pope's holiness: when he had received the blessed Sacrament himself, he made ready an Host, that he had there consecrated, to minister to her also. And turning himself to her, to give her the general absolution (as the manner of holy Church is) behold, he saw her face transfigured, like the face of an Angel, all clear, lightsome, and casting out beams of a marvelous brightness. With the which strange sight he was so astoined, that he said in himself to almighty God. Surely Lord this is not Caterines' face: this is undoubtedly the face of thy dearly beloved spouse. With that he turned himself again to the altar, and looking upon the consecrated Host, said these words in his heart. Come, O Lord, to thy spouse. And he had no sooner spoken those words in his mind, but that the holy Host came of itself into his hands, and did as it were offer itself to be carried to the mouth of his dear spouse. Thus much did doctor Raimundus testify himself, who was a very grave, wise, and learned man. There were also diverse other credible people, that affirmed constantly, that, when this holy maid did at diverse and sundry times receive the blessed Sacrament, they might hear sensibly, how the holy Host made a noise in her mouth, as though it had been a stone cast with great strength and violence. For confirmation whereof, brother Barthelmewe (who was likewise a doctor of divinity & very godly man) testified, that many times, when he ministered the blessed Sacrament unto her, the holy Host departed from his fingers after a violent manner, and so entered into the mouth of the holy maid.   

How almighty God permitted the devil to have power over her body: and how she overcame all with great patience.  
Chap. 33.  
THe malice, that the damned spirits bare to this holy virgin, was very great, and the battles that they made continually against her to remove her from her constancy and vow of virginity, were surely very fierce and cruel. All the which she overcame by the grace of God, and triumphed over all their malice and wiliness, as we have in part touched before: but as our Lord would not suffer them to have any power over her soul (which could not be without sin) so did he permit them to vex her body and put it to great pain, for her further increase of merit and higher crown. In so much that some times they threw her into the fire, sometimes they cast her down headlong from her horse: and one time, when doctor Raimundus her Confessor with diverse other was present, they hurled her down in such sort, that both she and her horse were over the head and ears in the mire. Whereat she smiled pleasantly, and said to her company. Be not afraid: for this is the work of Malatasca. And this happened most commonly unto her, when she had done some special work, that tended to the edifying of souls. As she declareth very well herself in her hundredth and sixth epistle: where, after that she had declared, what intolerable pains she suffered (which were in deed so vehement, that for very pain she reached at her garments, and look how much she latched with her hand, so much she rend away:) and how the next day being to write letters to the Pope's holiness and to three Cardinals, when she had ended her letler to the Pope, she was able to write no more, by reason of the violent pains, that came upon her, she writeth these words. And so standing still a little while, there began a terror of devils, which was done in such sort, that they set me quite besides myself, raging like mad dogs against me, as though I seely worm had been the occasion of taking out of their hands that, which they had holden long time in the holy Church. And this terror (together with the pain of my body) was so great, that I had thought to have gone from my study, and to get me to the chapel, as though my study, had been the occasion of my pains▪ but suddenly I was thrown down. And being thrown down, it seemed to me, that my soul was departed from my body: howbeit not so, as, when it was departed in deed: for then my soul did taste the felicity of the immortal spirits, and did receive that most sovereign blessedness with them. But now it seemed as a thing reserved; though it seemed not to be in my body: but I saw my body, as though it had been an other. These be the very words, that she writeth in that epistle: in the which she describeth certain new battles made against her by those damned spirits, far greater and more terrible, then ever she sustained at any other tyme. And in the next epistle she declareth, how she was very sore beaten and tormented by them, because she prayed with a great zeal for the Catholic Church, where she saith moreover, that the more she suffered in her body, the greater was her love towards the Church, and the more she desired to see the same reformed.   

How she delivered a certain young maid, that was possessed of a wicked spirit.  
Chap. 34.  
AS it was well known to diverse and sundry people, that this holy maid was marvelously vexed and put to intolerable pains by the malice of wicked spirits: so it pleased God to show likewise to the world, that he had granted her (as it were by special privilege) authority & jurisdiction over the said spirits, to command, bind, and cast them out at her pleasure, to the great comfort of the true and humble servants of God, and withal to the utter confusion of those proud spirits, that set themselves up against God and his servants: as may appear evidently by these examples here ensuring. There was in the city of Sienna a certain notary called master Michael, who, when he was well stricken in years, determined with the consent of his wife, to forsake the world, and to give himself to a more streigth order of life. He determined also to dedicate two of his daughters to the service of God in a monastery founded in the name & honour of S. john Baptist, in the same city. Where when they had continued a certain time, one of the daughters, whose name was Laurentia (a child of eight years old) was by the secret judgement of God possessed with a wicked spirit; by reason whereof the whole monastery was much disquieted. Whereupon by common consent they sent for her father, and gave him his daughter again. After that this child was thus taken out of the monastery, the wicked spirit uttered many wonderful things by her mouth, and answered to many dark and hard questions. And (which was most strange) he spoke commonly in the latin tongue. He disclosed also many secret vices of diverse and sundry people, to their great reproach and slander. Which thing turned the father and mother, and others also of their kindred and acquentance to great heaviness: who left no mean unsought, whereby, they thought, they might ease the child. Among other things, wherein those devout folks hoped in time to find help & comfort, one special mean was the relics of Saints kept in many places in the city: unto the which places they resorted daily with all diligence & namely to S. Ambrose tomb, (who had been in his life time a Friar preacher) to whom almighty God had granted a singular grace in casting out devils from such as were possessed: in so much that his cope or scapular, which were there kept, being laid upon them, that were vexed with unclean spirits, did very commonly chase them away. Wherefore they brought the child thither and laid her down upon the tomb, & cast the said clothes over her. And the father and mother in the mean time set themselves earnestly to prayer, beseeching our Lord with great instance, that it would please him, at the contemplation of that holy Saint, to take mercy on their child. But their prayer was not heard as then. Which thing happened unto them, not for any sin, that they committed, but because it was otherwise disposed by the provident wisdom of God: who (undoubtely) put it in the hearts of certain of their friends, to give them counsel, that they should repraire to the holy maid for the relief of their child. Which counsel they followed in deed, and first sent unto her, praying her in most earnest manner, that she would vouchsafe to do her best to help their daughter: whereunto she made answer, that she had enough to do with the wicked spirits, that did from time to time molest and trouble herself: and therefore prayed them, that they would hold her excused. The parents, whose hearts were very heavy and careful for the innocent child, would not take that excuse, but took their daughter, and went to her to her lodging; And came to the house so suddenly, that she could not possibly escape by the door, but that they must needs have a sight of her. The which when she saw she found the means to convey herself out by a window, and so hid herself for that time in such sort, that they could not find her. At the last, when they had tried all ways, & saw, that they could by no means come to her speech (for she had given charge to as many, as were about her, that none should move her in that matter) they resolved to go to doct: Thomas her ghostly father, & to entreat him, that, seeing the case was so lamentable, & she so unwilling to deal in it, he would command her in the virtue of her obedience to keep the child with her for a tyme. Doctor Thomas was much moved with their pitiful suit, and therefore put them in comfort, that he would do for his part, what was possible to be done. But because he knew well, that if he spoke to her himself, she would of humility make one excuse or other in such sort, that he should not be able to move her any further: he devised this wile. He awaited a time late in the evening, when he knew, that the holy maid was abroad: & then took the child, that was possessed, and put her into a chamber, whether he knew, she would come that night: leaving word with the rest of the sisters, that they should tell her, when she came home, that he commanded her in the virtue of her obedience, to suffer that child to remain there with her all that night until the next morrow. And so he went his way, and left the child with them. Anon after, when she came home and espied the child in her chamber, she asked the sisters, who had brought that child thither. They made her answer and said, that doctor Thomas her confessor had left the child there. And they declared furthermore, that he had willed her in the virtue of her obedience, to take the charge of the child till the next day. When she heard that, she made no more a do: but set herself forthwith to prayer, and caused the child to kneel down and pray with her. And so they continued together all that night, encountering and fight against the wicked spirit, until at the length a little before day he was constrained by the force of her faithful prayer to departed, and to leave the innocent child without doing any harm to her body. The which thing when one of the sisters called Alexia perceived, she ran to doctor Thomas, and told him, that the child was delivered. Doct: Thomas likewise being very glad of that joyful news, went to the father & mother; and brought them with him to the holy maids chamber. Where, when they saw the child delivered in deed, they wept for joy, and glorified almighty God, that had given such power to his humble spouse. But the holy maid knew, that the wicked spirit had not quite forsaken the child: and therefore entreated the father and mother, that she might remain there with her a little time, which they granted with a good will. Then she began to instruct the child, & exhorted her to give herself to continual prayer. And withal she gave her a great charge, that she should in no wise depart out of the house, until her father and mother came thither again to fetch her home. Which points the child observed very well. Now it chanced in this mean time, that the holy maid had occasion to go home to her own house about some necessary business: (for all this was done, not in her own house, but in the house of one of the sisters called Alexia: of whom mention is made before) and there to continue all that day: for the which time she left the child with a servant, & gave her a great charge withal. When she had passed over the whole day in her own house about such necessary businesses, as she had there to do, and night was come: she willed Alexia to give her her mantle: for she would return with her to her house. To that Alexia made answer and said, that it was very late, and that it would be evil thought of, if women (esp religious people) should be seen abroad at that time of the night. O Alexia, said she; we must needs go, for that hellish wolf is about to take my little lamb away from me again. And with that they went both together, and found the child in deed very strangely altered, her face all red, and her wits utterly distracted. When the holy maid saw that, she brak out with great indignation, into these words. Ah thou foul fiend of hell, how dared thou thus to enter again upon this poor innocent? I trust in the great goodness of my dear Lord and Saviour, that thou shalt now be cast out in such sort, that thou shalt never dare to enter again. And with that she took the child with her into her chamber, where she continued for a certain time in prayer. Which done, she brought out the child again fully delivered of that wicked spirit: and willed that other sister, that was there with her, to take the child and lay her down upon the bed, that she might rest a while. And the next morrow she sent for the father and mother: to whom she spoke after this manner. Take your child home with you on God's name, for from this day forward she shall never be troubled more with that wicked spirit. They took their child with glad hearts, and lead her to the monastery from whence she came: where she lived a very blessed life under that holy rule and discipline, and was never molested more to her dying day. Which thing was so joyous to master Michael her father, that he could never tell it afterwards, but that he wept for joy. And he honoured the holy maid in his heart, as if she had been an Angel of God. Doctor Raimundus, being certified of this great miracle by the faithful report of doctor Thomas, Alexia, and of the father and mother of the child, went himself to the holy maid, and desired her, that she would inform him particularly of the matter. But specially he was desirous to know the cause, why the thing was not wrought by the virtue of some holy relics (which the father and mother sought so diligently unto) or else exorcisms, as it is wont to be. Whereunto she made answer, that it was a very rough and stubborn spirit, so obstinately bend, that at the first time she was feign to continue in battle against him from the evening till the fourth hover of the night, before she could expel him; And at the length, when he saw, that he must needs departed; (being indeed thereunto constrained by the force of her fervent prayer, and by virtue of the charge that she gave him in Gods be half) he said these words to her. If I must needs departed out of this child, I will enter into thee Whereunto she made answer & said; If it be God's pleasure (without whose licence I am well assured, thou mayest do nothing) our Lord forbidden, that I should be against his holy will in any thing. The which words, proceeding of a very humble and and resigned spirit, so struck the proud fiend, that he lost all the strength, that he had before against the innocent child. Howbeit in passing out, he rested a while in the chides throat: which was perceived by a great swelling, that he made in that place. Which thing the holy maid seeing, she made the sign of the Cross over the child's throat: by virtue whereof the wicked spirit was utterly dispossessed in such sort, that he might never return, to disquiet the child again.   

How she delivered a woman that was possessed of a wicked spirit.  
Chap. 35.  
ON a time, while this holy maid was at a certain castle or town called Rocka within the territory of Sienna, with a worshipful lady, whose name was Madam Bianchina, it happened, that a woman of the same castle was suddenly taken and miserably tormented with a wicked spirit. The which pitiful sight when Madam Bianchina saw, she was so moved with compassion, that she thought to become an earnest suitor to the holy maid for her delivery. But, because she understood, that such suits were commonly very unpleasant to the holy maid (who of a great humility showed herself evermore very loath to meddle in any such matter) she asked counsel of certain of the religious sisters, that were there with the holy maid: whose advise was, that the woman should be brought to her presence suddenly and unawares to her: that the sight of the pitiful creature might move her to compassion. The which advise seemed very good, and according to the same the woman was in deed on a day brought in before the holy maid, in a place, where she happened to be, making a love-daie between two, that were fallen out. When she saw the wretched woman, and saw withal, that she could by no means avoid: she turned to the lady Bianchina, and said. Ah madame, God forgive you. Wot you, what you have done? know you not, that I have trouble enough by these wicked spirits, that do from time to time molest mine own person? wherefore then do you increase my trouble, in presenting others before me, that are vexed with these foul fiends? With that she turned to the woman, that was possessed, and said to the wicked spirit. Thou malicious enemy of mankind, I charge thee, lay down thy head here in this man's lap, and abide there, till I come again. She had no sooner spoken those words, but that the woman, that was vexed, laid down her head in a certain Anchorites lap, that was there by, who was called Sanctus, and never removed till she came again. In this mean time, while the holy maid was gone out, to make up a full peace between two men of war, that were at variance (whose dwelling was not far from that place:) the spirit cried out mightily by the mouth of that miserable woman, leaning her head in the Anchorites lap, and said. Why do ye hold me here? I pray you, let me go for, I am very hard holden. They that stood thereby, made answer, and said to him again. And why dost thou not go thy way? who holdeth thee? Is not the door open? Oh, said he, that cursed woman hath bound me here. She holdeth me, that I may not departed. What woman, said they? That, that cursed woman, said he: and would not, or peradventure could not name her: but after a raging manner cried out, that cursed creature, that cursed woman, mine enemy. Then the Anchorite asked him, whether he took her for his great enemy, or no. Yea, said he, the greatest, that I have this day in the world. Then those that were there present, being much disquieted with his outrageous crying, said to him. Hold thy peace, Caterine cometh: (meaning thereby to put him in fear, and so to cause him to cease his crying.) No, no, said he, she cometh not yet. She is in such a place (where she was in deed) They asked him, what she did there: what doth she, said he? She is now doing of a thing (as she is at all times) wherein I take small pleasure. And with that he cried out again very sore, and said. Ah, why am I thus holden here? And it was evidently seen, that he never moved from that place, where the holy maid charged him to abide, till her coming again. At the last he said, Now is that, that cursed woman coming. They demanded of him where she was. She is now, said he, in such a place. And now she is gone from thence, and goeth towards such a place. And so declared from time to time, how she passed from place to place until at the length, when she was come to the gate of the house, where they were, he said. Now she is come. When she was entered into the house and began to make towards the chamber, wherein they abode her return: he cried out with a loud voice, & said. Ah, why hold ye me here by force? The holy maid made answer, and said; Arise wretch, and get thee hence, and leave this creature of God: and from this hover forward see that thou be never so hardy, as once to molest her again. And with that it was seen, that the wicked fiend forsook all the other parts of that woman's body, and gathered himself into her throat: where he made such an horrible swelling, that it moved as many as were present, to great compassion. Then the holy maid made the sign of the Cross over the place that was swollen, and forthwith he went his way & left the woman safe and sound, in the presence of a great many, that were there, and saw this evident miracle with their eyes. But because the poor woman had been sore travailed by the fiend, the holy maid willed them to bring her home to her house, that she might rest a while & take some sustenance And so they did. Now when she was fully come to herself again, and knew the place and persons, that were about her: she had great marvel, & asked some of her acqueintance, what she did there, and how she came thither. They made her answer, and declared unto her, in what case she had been, and what had been done by the holy maid about her delivery. When she heard that, she was astoined: and said, that in truth she could remember no such thing. Only this she confessed, that her body was very sore shaken and bruised, as if it had been beaten with a cluble. Then she turned herself after a very humble manner towards the holy maid, and with most hearty thanks acknowledged the great benefit, that she had there received at God's hand through her means. Of this evident miracle were witnesses, the lady Bianchina, that holy Anchorite, in whose lap it was done, & other more, to the number of thirty people. Many other miracles she wrought of like sort in casting out of devils, in the presence of diverse and sundry credible people, the which honour & triumph over the enemy, it pleased out Lord to give her in the sight of the world, because she had at all times so valiantly resisted and overthrown him in her own person, when soever he moved her by any means, either to pride of mind or uncleanness of body.    

THE THIRD PART.  

How the holy maid was endued with the spirit of prophecy, and foretold, what calamities should happen to the Church, and likewise, how it should be restored again.  
Chap. 1.  
AMONG many goodly gifts and graces, with the which this holy Virgin was endued, one was the spirit of prophecy: which was in her so strange and singular, that she not only foresaw the things, that were to come, so perfectly, as if they had been present, but also pierced into the very secrets of men's hearts, & told them, what they thought. Which thing caused the world to have her in such admiration, that, when she spoke to them of matters concerning their soul's health, they heard her words with greater attention and reverence. About the year of our Lord. 1375. at what time Gregory the eleventh was Pope, many cities and territories in Italy rebelled against the Sea Apostolic, withdrawing themselves and their yearly revenwes from the Church of Rome. Which revolt all good men took very heavily, and namely doctor Raimundus; whose grief was so great, that he went of purpose to Pisa (where the holy maid chanced to be at that time) to power out his heart before her. As he was declaring to her the lamentable state of things abroad with sorrowful words and many tears: she showed likewise in countenance, that she had great compassion of a number of souls, that were like to perish through that sinful rebellion. But, when he had said, she made him answer after this manner. Father, said she, begin not to weep so soon: for all this is but honey & milk in comparison of that, that shall come hereafter. What, said he? Think you, that I shall ever have greater cause to sorrow, than I have at this present, seeing (as I now see) the people so wickedly bend, that they are not afraid to set themselves against our holy mother the Church, and to make light of her curse & excommunication? What remaineth now, but only that they do utterly deny the faith of Christ? To that the holy maid made answer and said. Father, all that ye see hitherto, is done by the common lay people: but you shall see hereafter an other manner of rebellion, than this is, contrived and practised by the clergy. When Doctor Raimundus heard that, he was marvelously astonished for a tyme. At the length he asked her, whether she thought it a thing possible, that the clergy should rebel against the Church. Yea, said she, it is possible: and you shall see it. For, when our holy Father the Pope shall go about to reform their manners, then shall they set themselves up against him, and make a schism in the Church. Whereof shall arise great slander and offence to all good men. And therefore I give you warning before, that you arm yourself with patience: for you shall see all this. Doctor Raimundus at that time mistook the holy maids words, supposing, that she had meant, that all these things should have come to pass then presently in Pope Gregory's days. And therefore, when he saw, that Pope Gregory was dead, he thought no more of her words: because he imagined, that the term of her prophecy had been expired. But afterwards in the time of Pope Vrbanus the sixth, when he saw and felt also that wicked rebellion, that was raised against him by the proud prelate's of the Church: he called to mind, what the holy maid had said unto him before: and thought every hour a day, until he might have some opportunity to confer with her concerning the state of those present troubles. Which by the disposition of almighty God came to pass, even as he desired; for in that fury of rebellion and schism the holy maid was sent for to Rome, by commandment of the Pope's holiness: where Doctor Raimundus repaired unto her, and put her in mind of such communication, as had passed between them long time before in Pisa. I remember well, said she, that such words I spoke to you at that time: which now you see verified. And now I will give you to understand thus much more. Like as I said to you then, that the rebellion of that time was but milk and honey in comparison of this, that you see now: even so I tell you now, that these present troubles are but a child's game, in comparison of those horrible calamities, that are to come. And with that she began to recite diverse and sundry plagues, which, she foresaw, should fall upon many parts of the world, and namely upon the Kingdom of Sicilia and countries there about. The which prophecy was in deed fulfilled soon after in the time of Queen jone and of her successor▪ with such unwonted scourges, calamities, and almost utter subversion, not only of the Kingdom of Sicilia, but also of all other Kingdoms, Territories, and Cities, lying near unto it, that Doctor Raimundus and as many as lived and saw afterwards the horrible state of that bloody time, confessed, that the like had not been often seen in those parts of the world before. When Doctor Raimundus had heard thus much concerning the scourges and afflictions, that were towards the Church (of the which, some he saw then presently verified, and therefore doubted nothing of the rest) he asked the holy maid, whether after all these storms there were not like to come a calm among the people of God. Whereunto she made answer after this manner. Father, said she, almighty God hath determined thus to purge his Church by calamities and tribulations. The which when he hath once done, he will raise up a new spirit in his chosen servants, and send such godly Pastors and Curates over his flock, that my heart rejoiceth within my body to think upon that goodly reformation, that shall ensue in all states of men. And as the Church of Christ seemeth now poor, deformed, and naked; so shall it then be seen in a very glorious and beautiful state, clad with the seemly ornaments of virtue & godliness. The good shall joy to see the Church of God in such a flourishing peace: and the evil shallbe alured, by the sweet savour of their virtuous conversation, to follow them in the paths of Gods holy commandements. Therefore, father, thank our Lord, who of his gracious goodness voutchsafeth, after rain and tempests to send fair wether. Thus much spoke the holy maid touching the state of the Church to Doctor Raimundus; whom she left in a great perplexity between sorrow and joy: very sorrowful, in consideration of the great scourges, that he saw, were to come upon the people of God: and contrariwise very joyful, in regard of that great good, which, he was likewise assured, should ensue of the same.   

How the holy maid saw the secret thoughts of men's hearts: and how she used that gift to the benefit of diverse and sundry people.  
Chap. 2.  
AS this holy maid, being directed by the infallible light of God's holy Spirit, entered into the innermost closet of his Divine providence, and there saw, what order was taken for things to come in the world: so likewise she was able by the direction of the same light, to enter into the most secret corners of men's hearts, and there to take a view of their hidden thoughts and designementes. Whereof Doctor Raimundus gave a faithful testimony in himself, saying and constantly affirming, that on a time, while he was in company with the holy maid, his mind was occupied about certain thoughts, that were unpleasant to God. Which thing she perceiving, gave him warning, that he should withdraw his mind from such thoughts, and occupy himself about some other matters. He (as a man) began to excuse himself with a lie, and said, that he had no such thing in his mind. O good Father (said she after a very humble manner) wherefore say you so? Will you deny me that, which I see more clearly, than you see it yourself? And with that she took occasion both to tell him precisely, what he thought at that time, and withal to give him a good lesson, how he should avoid the like thoughts an other tyme. Doctor Raimundus confessed afterwards to the glory of God, (though in deed it founded in some degree to his own reproach in the world) that the like happened between them at diverse and sundry times. There was also in the city of Sienna a worshipful knight called Sir Nicolas Savacines, a man of great valour in his days and well-beloved of all men. When this Sir Nicolas had spent a great part of his life abroad in the wars of foreign contreis', at the length in his age he returned home to his own country and house: where he lived rechlesly in pastimes and pleasures, deceiving himself (as the manner of such men is) with this false ground, that he should have time enough to do penance before his end. His wife and friends, being virtuous folks themselves, and therefore sorry to see him in such case, persuaded with him earnestly, that he would go to Confession, and do penance for his foremer life. But whatsoever they said to him in that behalf, he gave but a deaf ear to their words. Then it came into their mind (undoubtedly by the secret instinct of almighty God, who desireth not the death of a sinner, but rather that he be turned and live) that they should move him to go to the holy maid, whose name was at that time very famous over all the city for many virtues, and namely for a singular grace, that she had, in dealing with those men, that were hard hearted and obstinately set to continue in their sinful state of life. And so with this mind they went to him, and exhorted him very effectually, that he would now in his later days look more careully to his soul's health, and in regard of that hey gave him counsel, that he should resort at his convenient leisure to the holy maid, and talk with her: and they doubted not, but that her good talk and prayers should do him much good. When the knight heard them name the holy maid: tush, said he, think you, that I have nothing else to do, but to go & talk with her? What good is she able to do me? Then his wife (who was a good virtuous woman and well acquainted with the holy maid) went to her, and with great lamentation opened to her, what had been done by herself and by her friends for the conversion of her husband: whose heart notwithstanding was so hardened, that they could do him no good. And therefore she besought the holy maid to pray to God for her husband: that his heart might be mollified & made apt to receive the grace of God. The holy maid promised the lady, that she would have her husband in remembrance: and so she had. Soon after, the holy maid appeared to the knight in his sleep, & gave him warning, that, if he minded to escape everlasting damnation, he should give ear to his wives counsel touching his soul's health. So soon as he was awaked, he told his wife, what had happened in his sleep: and he told her furthermore, that he would go & talk with the holy maid, to know, whether it were she, that had so appeared to him, or no. His wife was very glad of that, and went to the holy maid before, to thank her for her charity, and to entreat her, that she would appoint a time and place, where her husband might come and speak with her. Which she did with a good will: and he came, & was by her good exhortations so thoroughly turned in heart, that he promised to go out of hand to Doctor Thomas her ghostly Father, and to him to confess his sins. And so he did. Now, when he had done, he came to her again in the Church, where she was, and told her, that he had confessed his sins, and taken penance for the same. Sir, said she, you have done very well: and shall by the grace of God do better hereafter. But I pray you, tell me. Have you confessed all your sins? Yea, said he, all that came to my mind. Anon after she asked him again, whether he had made a full and perfect confession of all his sins. And ever he made answer, that he had done it. At the length, she willed him to examine his conscience with good diligence, and to think advisedly, whether he had not left out some sin, that was committed many years before. And still he said, that to his remembrance he had left no one sin unconfessed. With that she took him a side, and put him in mind of a very grievous sin, which he had committed many years before in Apulia: which sin was also so secretly done, that she could never have come to the knowledge of it, unless it had been revealed unto her by God. When the knight heard that, he was marvelously astonished: and acknowledging himself in deed guilty, he went without any longer delay to her ghostly father, and made his confession of that sin particularly. And from that day forward he bore such a reverence and love to the holy maid, that he could never speak enough of her virtue and holiness. In so much that he would say of her, as the woman of Samaria said of our Saviour Christ. Come and see a holy virgin, that hath told me all that I have done. Is not she (think you) a great prophetess? This knight, after that he was thus turned by the holy maid, lived evermore in awe of her, even as a child doth of his master, and was wholly directed by her in all things until his dying day (which was within one year after.) And so he lived a godly life, and died in the state of grace.   

How the holy maid delivered Doctor Thomas her Confessor, and an other Friar that journeyed with him, from being murdered in the way.  
Chap. 3.  
ON a time Doctor Thomas the holy maids Confessor, and an other Friar called brother George Naddi Doctor in Divinity likewise went on horse back together towards Mount Politan to visit Doctor Raimundus, who was at that time there, Father Confessor over a Monastery of Nuns. These two religious people, being on the way, chanced to be espied by a number of thieves, that were drinking in a tavern, where they should pass. Of the which there arose from the table to the number of ten or twelve, which prevented these Friars, in a place, whether, they knew, they must needs come, and there setting upon them very fiercely, made them to alight from their horses. And when they had spoiled them almost of all their clothes, and of whatsoever they had about them beside; they lead them towards a dark thicket, that was there by, minding there to have murdered them, and so to have bestowed their bodies in that unhaunted place, that their fact should never be espied. When Doctor Thomas perceived (partly by their suspicious manner, and partly by some words, that they cast out) what their meaning was: being in a great agony, he cast up his heart to God and to the holy maid, and said these words secretly to himself with great devotion. O dear Catherine, God's devout servant and spouse, help us now in this our great distress. He had scantly spoken those words in his heart, but that one of the thieves, that was before in mind to have killed them, being quite altered from that cruel purpose, spoke after this manner to his fellows. Sirs, what mean we, to she we such cruelty to these good men, that neved did us harm? Surely it is a great sin. Let them go a God's name. We may trust them well enough: they will never descry us. At these words, the rest being likewise touched as it were, with a certain remorse of conscience, restored unto them again their horses, clothes, and all other things (only a little money excepted) and sent them away without any further hurt. Now, the thing that is most to be noted in this story, is this. At that very time, when Doctor Thomas spoke those words in his heart, the holy maid, being then in Sienna, said to one of the sisters these words. Doctor Thomas calleth me. And sure I am, that he is in great distress, where soever he is. And therefore let us pray to God for him. And with that she set herself to prayer: by virtue whereof she overcame and altered the minds of those wicked thieves, that would have murdered him: as the effect declared afterwards.   

How she prophesied long time before of the conversion of a gentleman called Francis of Malavolt.  
Chap. 4.  
THere was in the city of Sienna a gentleman called Francis of Malavolt, worshipfully borne, but youthfully given. And though he had a wife, yet could he not keep at home, but would be oftentimes abroad. Which thing grieved all his friends, and especially one man, that kept him company most commonly: who being a virtuous man, for very entire love, that he bore unto him, and also for compassion, that he had in his heart, to see his friend to live in such a damnable state, exhorted him, that he would go one day with him, and hear the holy maid. The young gentleman was well content to go with him, and to hear her speak. And resorting unto her at diverse and sundry times, he was then presently much stirred to compunction by her godly exhortations, and determined with himself to leave his sinful life: but within a few days after he fell to it again. The which thing the holy maid perceived well, and had great pity on his weakness, & therefore prayed to God earnestly for him: & on a day, when the young man came after his accustomed manner to hear her exhortation, she spoke these words to him with great fervour, & vehemency of spirit. Son said she, thou comest often to me: but afterwards thou farest like a wild bird, and fliest away from me to thy old haunts. But one thing I tell thee? I shall once (by God's grace) lay such a yoke on thy neck, that thou shalt not fly from me any more, as thou dost now. The young gentleman took good heed to her words, (and so did many more, that were present:) but yet he saw them not verified, so long as she lived. And for a time also, after that she was passed out of this world, he gave himself again to his wont licentiousness and vicious manner of life. And so much the more freely, because he had none then to restrain him, as he was wont to have of her before. But as the holy maid was an earnest intercessor for that young man, while she dwelled here on the earth: so was she also a much more diligent solicitor in his cause before God, when she was in heaven: as the end declared. Not long after the decease of this holy maid, it chanced, that the young man's wife, and that dear friend, that loved him so entirely, and in whom he reposed a very special trust, died also. The departure and lack of which too he took so deeply (because he seemed, as a man abandoned and left alone in the world) that he willingly forsook all the vain joys and pleasures of the world, and put his head into the holy yoke of religion: in the which discipline he lived and died not without a very great opinion of virtue and holiness. And whensoever he happened in his life time to talk to others of his dissolute life in the world, and of his conversion and entering into religion, he would confess, that, whatsoever grace he had, he had to thank God, from whom all goodness proceedeth, and the holy maid, by whose effectual prayer, he acknowledged, he was won from the world, to God.   

How the holy maid made an exhortation to the Carthusian monks, in the which by the spirit of prophecy she touched the most secret defects of diverse and sundry of them very particularly.  
Chap. 5.  
THere was beside the city of Pisa in an Island a covent of Carthusians, the Prior whereof was called Don Bartilmewe of Ravenna. This Prior, being a good religious man, and desirous to train up his covent in all perfection of spiritual life, hearing of the virtue and holiness of this holy maid, and what a singular grace she had in moving men's hearts with her godly exhortations, besought Doctor Raimundus, that he would be a mean to her, and entreat her to come one day to his house, to give some spiritual lesson to his brethren. The holy maid was content, at the request of Doctor Raimundus, to go with him & certain other religious people to the place. When she was come, the Prior ordained for her and for her sisters, that came with her, a convenient lodging without the monastery: the men he took into his cloister with himself. The next morning he came with his whole covent to the holy maids lodging, and besought her very earnestly, that she would vouchsafe to say some thing, whereby both he and his brethren might be edified. She of humility refused a great while, and said, that it was more meet for her being a woman to be instructed by them, then to take upon her to instruct them. But at the length, being overcome with their importunity, she spoke, as it pleased God to put in her heart. And specially she took occasion to touch a number of sleites and illusions, which the ghostly enemy is wont to use, to deceive and entrap those spiritual people, that give themselves to solitary life. And, when she had briefly and plainly declared the temptations, she did with the life briefness and plainness teach them, against every particular tentation a particular remedy. And these things she uttered so orderly and with such apt terms, that they were all astonished to hear her. When she had made an end, the Prior turned himself to Doctor Raimundus, & said these words. Thus many years have I heard the confessions of these my brethren: as the manner of our religion requireth, whereby you may presume, that I do know the state of every man. And I say to you, that, if this holy maid had heard their confessions, as I have done, she could not have spoken more to the purpose, and more to the profit and edifying of every one of them, than she hath done. Whereby we may clearly see, that she is undoubtedly a great prophetess, and that the holy spirit of God speaketh in her.   

What a singular grace the holy maid had, not only in seeing the state of their souls, that were present with her, but also in discerning the qualities and conditions of them, that were far from her and in strange countries: with certain other points of like sort, worthy to be noted.  
Chap. 6.  
Many devout people, resorting unto the holy maid at times for spiritual comfort, did use to kneel down before her, and to do greater reverence to her, than was usually done to other religious people. The which thing because she did not refuse, some that were present, took offence and murmured, imagining with themselves, that she had been vainglorious, and that she had taken pleasure in such courtesies. Doctor Raimundus, to take away this occasion of offence, went to the holy maid, and told her, what was conceived of her. To whom she made answer in this sort; Father, said she, our Lord knoweth, that I am so thoroughly occupied in viewing the secret qualities of the souls of them, that resort to me, that I take little heed to the outward gestures of their bodies. And as she saw the secret disposition of souls, so did she likewise take either passing great delight in them, if they were virtuously disposed, or very great grief and bothsomenes towards them, if she saw them given to vice and uncleanness. On a time, while the holy maid was talking with Pope Gregory concerning the state of the Church (where Doctor Raimundus was used for an interpreter between them: because the Pope understood not the Italian tongue, and she spoke no latin) among other things she lamented her very much of the court of Rome, and said, that where of reason there ought to be a most pleasant paradise of virtue and holiness, there she found a most loathsome sink of all stinking vice and uncleanness. The Pope, being somewhat moved with those words, asked of Doctor Raimundus, how long it was, sense she was first acquainted with the court of Rome. And understanding, that it was but a few days, he asked her, how she came to have such knowledge of the manners of the court in so few days. With that she raised herself up with a certain comely boldness (whereas before she held down her head) and said these words to the Pope. To the honour of almighty God I dare well say thus much, that I had a more perfect sent of the horrible stench of the sins, that are committed in the court of Rome, when I lived at home in mine own country, where I was borne, than they have themselves, that do commit such sins every day. When the Pope heard these words, he held his peace, and wondered much at the strangeness of her answer. But Doctor Raimundus above all other was marvelously astonished, seeing her to speak in the presence of so great a Prelate, as that Pope was, with such an unwonted boldness and authority. It happened often times (as Doctor Raimundus and diverse other credible people reported) that when she came with them into places, where neither she nor they had ever been before, there resorted unto her many men and women, that seemed by their apparel, words, and outward behaviour, very honest and godly folks: but were in deed given to some unclean vice. Which thing she perceived by and by, and therefore would in no wise be brought to speak with them of heavenly matters (as they required) nor so much as to turn her face towards them. And if she saw, that they tarried over long, she would break out into words also, and say to them, that, if they minded to talk of God or of godly matters, they should first rid themselves out of the devils snares and amend their lives. And with that she would find some occasion to withdraw herself from their company. Now her Confessor and other, that were about her at such times, inquiring further of the behaviour and conversation of such people, as she refused thus to speak withal, found in deed, that they were noted of some grievous crime, and that they continued in the same without repentance. another time there came a woman to speak with the holy maid, whose behaviour was so woman lie and talk so honest, that, so many as were there present, took her to be a very virtuous woman. The which notwithstanding, the holy maid turned her face away from her (as it seemed) of purpose: because she would neither see the woman, nor be seen of her. Whereof Doctor Raimundus had great wonder, and therefore took occasion afterwards to ask her secretly, what the cause was, why she had so done. To whom she made answer after this manner. O Father, said she, if you had felt such a stench of sin, as I felt, while that woman spoke to me, I am well assured, you would have cast up all, that had been in your stomach. Upon this Doctor Raimundus used means to come to the knowledge of that woman's conversation, and understood, that she was a priests concubine.   

How the holy maid prayed continually for the state of the Church: and how by prayer she obtained of God the ceasing of two rebellions in Rome.  
Chap. 7.  
AT what time Pope Vrbanus the sixth was enforced to flee out of Rome, by reason of a rebellion, that was raised against him in the city by the french faction: the holy maid, which as then was left behind in Rome, and saw the miserable state of the Church, wept day and night, and with continual sighs and sobs made her prayer to our Lord, beseeching him most instantly that he would vouchsafe to cease the fury of those wicked rebels, and give peace to his afflicted Church. And it was well seen, that her prayer was heard. For soon after it pleased God so to dispose, that in one day both those factious schismatics that had taken arms against the Sea Apostolic, were vanquished and taken, and the castle of S. Angelo, which had holden out long time before, rendered itself into the Pope's hands. When our holy father the Pope understood of this great victory, he returned to the city again: where he asked the holy maid her advise, what she thought best to be done in that case. And her advise was, that he should go bare footed to S. Peter Church, and all the people with him, to thank God with all submission and sowlines of heart, for that joyous calm after so long storms. And thus the Church of Christ began (as it were) to revive again: and the holy maid took passing great comfort to see it. But that joy endured not long. For within a little time, after these troubles were pacified, the devil, whose malice is evermore vigilant against the Church of God, raised up a new tempest. And what he could not bring to pass by the fury of strangers, that did he attempt again by sowing discord between the citizens of Rome and the Pope's holiness. When the holy maid perceived that, and saw the imminent peril, that was like thereby to ensue to the Church of God, she turned herself to our Lord in prayer, and besought him, that he would hold his holy hand over the people, and not suffer them to commit such a wicked and heinous sin. And as she was thus praying, she saw the city full of damned spirits, stirring and exciting the people to kill the Pope; And those spirits cried horribly to her, and said. Thou cursed wretch, thou art evermore busy to let our designementes. But be thou well assured, we shall put thee to a foul death. She gave them no word to answer, but continued her prayer with greater fervour and devotion, beseeching our Lord with all instancy, that he would vouchsafe to keep her from all mischief, and also that it would please him to preserve the Pope, his lieutenant and vicar general in earth, from all the violent attempts of those wicked conspirators, for the honour of his own holy name, and for the redress of his dear Spouse the Church, which as then was in very lamentable state. She prayed likewise for those impious rebels, and besought our Lord most earnestly, that he would vouchsafe of his infinite mercy to mollify their hearts, & not suffer them to commit such a horrible sin, as to murder their own Father and Pastor. When she had prayed often after this manner, it pleased God one time to give her this answer. Daughter, said he, suffer the people to accomplish their malice, in committing this damnable sin, that they are about: that I may exercise my justice, and punish them according to their deserts. For their wickedness is so odious and horrible in my sight, that it may no longer be endured. When the holy maid heard those dreadful words, she set herself to prayer again, with far greater devotion and vehemency of spirit then before, and said. O most merciful Lord, thou seest, how thy dear of Spouse the Church, whom thou hast redeemed with the price of thy most precious blood, is this day miserably vexed and afflicted almost through out the world. Thou knowest on the one side how few there are, that show themselves ready to assist and comfort her; and thou art not ignorant on the other side, how many there are and how cruelly bend, that seek by all possible means to annoy and discomfort her. And in this behalf it can not be hidden from thine eyes, which see all things, how many treacheries and treasons there are now in contriving, to make our holy father thy vicar out of the way. The which most detestable conspiracy, if it take place, must needs turn not only this city of Rome, but also the whole body of Christendom to great discomfort and slander. Therefore, o blessed Lord, I most humbly beseech thee, that thou wilt for this time temper the rigour of thy justice, and spare thy people, whom thou hast bought so dear. After this manner did the holy maid continue many days and many nights together in fervent prayer: in the which time our Lord did ever more allege justice, and she craved mercy. And all the time, that she was thus occupied in prayer, the wicked spirits did so vex and torment her with their horrible scriching and crying, that her body waxed marvelous feeble. In so much that, if our Lord had not by his almighty power sustained her, it had not been possible for her to have endured, but her heart must needs have burst in sunder. In the end she concluded her prayer with these words. O Lord, said she seeing it is so, that thy mercy may not be granted without thy justice. I beseech thee, despise not my prayers, but whatsoever pain is to be laid upon this people, lay it upon my body, and I will bear it with all my heart, for the love, that I bear to the honour of thy holy name, and to the salvation of their souls. After the time, that she had spoken these words, our Lord made no more mention of his justice, but held his peace, and gave her the victory, as the effect declared evidently; For from that very hour forward it was seen, that the people did by little, and little cease off their conspiracies and practices against the Pope's holiness, and in the end submitted themselves wholly to his authority. But as their malice relented by little and little, and in time ceased: so did her pain and smart likewise increase answerably, by the permission of God: by whose sufferance the wicked spirits vexed and tormented her body so cruelly, that it seemed incredible, but only to such as were present with her, and saw, how it was, in part rend and torn, as it had been with iron hooks, in part swollen and full of black and blue wails, as though it had been beaten with clubs, and all over so pitifully arrayed, that it seemed rather a thing to wonder at, than a natural body. All the which notwithstanding she gave not over her accustomed manner of prayer, but continued in the same, both longer time together, than she was wont to do before, and also with greater fervour of spirit and devotion, than she was wont to have at other times. And evermore, as she increased in prayer & charitable affection towards the Church of God, so did those wicked fiends increase their cruelty towards her, beating and bouncing her day and night, and withal filling her ears with their most horrible cries, saying. O thou cursed wretch, thou hast ever been against us. But be thou well assured: the times is now come, that we will be even with thee. Thou hast oftentimes disappointed us of our purposes. And therefore now we will never give thee over, until we have made a full riddance of thee, in such sort, that thou shalt never be able to hinder us any more. Thus much the holy maid wrote herself in a letter to Doctor Raimundus her ghostly Father. And so she continued in such vexation and torments from the sunday of Septuagesima, until the last saving one of April: on the which day it pleased our Lord to call her out of this life.   

How the holy maid obtained by prayer, that she might satisfy the justice of God, for the pains dwe to her father in Purgatory.  
Chap. 8.  
WHen james this holy maids father saw, that his daughter was wholly given to the service of God (as it hath been declared in the first part of this book) he cast a very special love and affection to her, and entreated her in his house with great respect and reverence, and had this opinion of her, that she was able to obtain at God's hand for him, what she would. And she likewise bare a very singular love and reverence to her father, and commended his health to God in her daily prayers in most earnest manner. It chanced, that her father fell into a very grievous sickness, & kept his bed. The which when she understood, she turned herself to God in prayer after her accustomed manner, and besought him, that her father might recover again. But answer was given her from God, that the end of his days in this life was come, and that it was not expedient for him to live any longer. With that she went forthwith to her father, to visit him, and to examine him, how he was disposed in his soul: and found him ready and willing to pass out of this world, whensoever it should please God to call him: whereof she was very glad, and thanked our Lord with all her heart. Then she prayed furthermore, that, seeing our Lord had vouchsafed to call her father out of this life in the state of salvation, it might also stand with his holy will and pleasure, to make him this grant, that he might pass out of hand to the joys of heaven, & not be stayed any time in the pains of Purgatory. Whereunto our Lord made her answer, that the order of justice must needs be observed: which would not bear, that any soul should have the fruition of those unspeakable joys, unless it were most perfectly purged before. And though her father had lead a convenient good life in his vocation, and had done many good works also, which were very acceptable in the sight of God (of the which one principal work was, the maintaining of her in religion) yet there remained some rust of earthly conversation, which of right must be tried out with the fire of purgatory. When she heard that, she made her prayer to our Lord after this manner. O most merciful Lord, how may I abide, that the soul of my dear father, whom thou hast appointed to be the mean to bring me into this world, by whom I have been so carefully provided for in my tender age, at whose hand I have received so many comforts and reliefs, by whose handy labour and charges, I have been maintained thus main years in thy service, should now be tormented with the pains of Purgatory? I beseech thee, O father of mercies and God of all comfort, for all the loving kindness, that ever thou hast showed to mankind, that thou wilt not suffer my father's soul to departed out of his body, until it be by one mean or other so perfectly tried and purified, that it need no further purgation. A wonderful thing to consider. After the time, that the holy maid had said those words, it was evidently seen, that her father's body decayed more and more (as it did before) to wards death, all his powers failing sensibly in such sort, that all men saw, by the course of nature it could not continue any tyme. And yet, for so long time, as she continued in prayer, wrestling (as it were) with almighty God, and labouring to incline him in some degree (if it were possible) from justice to mercy: they might perceive, that his soul was holden in his body by some spiritual power, and could in no wise depart. At the length, when she saw, that the justice of God must needs be satisfied: she said thus. O most merciful Lord, if it can not otherwise be, but that thy justice must be answered. I beseech thee, turn thy justice upon me: & whatsoever pains thou hast appointed for my father, lay the same upon my body, & I will willingly bear them. To that our Lord consented, & said unto her. Daughter, for the love, that thou bearest to me, I am content to grant thee thy petition, & to transpose the pains due to thy father, & to lay the same upon thee: which thou shalt bear in thy body, so long as thou livest. With that she thanked God most humbly, and said. O Lord, thy judgements are all just: be it done to me, as thou hast determined. And so she made haste towards her father, who lay in extremes. And she comforted him marvelously with that glad tidings: & went not from him, until he had given up the ghost. So soon as her father was departed, she felt herself forthwith pained with a grievous disease in her side called Iliaca passio, which never went from her, so long as she lived. The which pain she bore not only patiently, but also cheerfully, conceiving such an inward joy of that B. state that she knew her father was in, that she little esteemed the outward pain of her own body. In so much that, at the time of her father's departure, when all other that were present, made great lamentation, she smiled sweetly, and showing great gladness in her countenance, said these words. Dear father, would God I were, as you are; Our Lord be blessed.   

How the holy maid by prayer brought her mother to life again, and so delivered her from the pains of hell.  
Chap. 9  
AS the holy maid showed herself to be a very loving and dutiful child towards her father: so did she likewise afterwards show the like love and charity towards her mother: as her duty required. Her mother Lapa was very sick, and her sickness grew on her every day more and more, in such sort, that there were seen in her great tokens of death, and small hope of life. All the which notwithstanding she was so drowned in the world, that she might in no wise hear of death, and be brought to conform her will to the will of God. When her daughter saw that, being moved with pity, she turned herself to God, after her accustomed manner, in prayer, and besought him with great instance, that he would vouchsafe to prolong her mother's life. Our Lord made answer, that, if she could be brought to dispose herself to die at that time, it would be best for her: forsomuch as, if she lived longer, there were such storms of troubles and adversity towards her, as she should not be able to bear. The holy maid hearing that, went to her mother, and comforted her, and used many sweet persuasions with her, to induce her to be content (seeing it was the will of God) to pass out of this wretched state to a more happy and blessed life. But the mother, giving but a deaf ear to this kind of talk, charged her daughter earnestly, that she should rather pray to God for the continuance of her life: for as yet she could in no wise be brought to departed out of the world. Then the holy maid in great anguish and perplexity of mind, became a mediatrix between almighty God and her mother: humbly beseeching him, on the one side, that he would not suffer her mother to departed, until she were resolved to die willingly for his love, and earnestly exhorting her on the other side, that she should yield her heart fully and wholly to the will of God. But she was so fixed on the world, that she might not abide to hear of death. Whereupon our Lord speak to the holy maid after this sort. Daughter, said he, tell thy mother, that if she will not consent to die now, a time shall come, when she shallbe so afflicted, that she shall desire to die, and shall not be heard. Which saying of our Lord took effect within a little time after: and she was in deed so miserably tormented in mind with the loss of her temporal goods (unto the which she bore a marvelous inordinate love) that she broke out impatiently into certain words, as it were, of desperation and despite against God, saying. Is it possible, that God hath so enclosed my soul in this crooked body, that it can find no way out? Have I sent so many of my sons and daughters, kinsfolks and friends, husband and all out of the world before me with great grief, and now am constrained to remain here alone after them all, to see myself overwhelmed with heaviness and misery? And so with this bitterness of heart and murmuring against God, she passed out of this life, without any further contrition or repentance for her sins. Her daughter took this manner of her departure marvelous heavily, and could receive no comfort: but, setting herself to prayer (which she had evermore tried to be a present remedy against all evils) she sighed, sobbed, and wept very lamentably, and powered out the grief of her heart before God with these words. O my dear Lord and God, are these the promises, that thou hast made me, that there should no one of my house and family perish in the hands of the enemy? Behold o Lord, my mother is now passed out of this life without repentance for her sins, without confession, without the rights of holy Church. O sweet Lord, O Father of all comfort, I most humbly beseech thee in the bowels of thy tender mercy, that thou wilt not reject the petition of thy lowly handmaid at this tyme. See, o Lord, I lie here prostrate before thy divine Majesty, and will not rise out of this place, until my mother be restored to life again, and I ascertained of her salvation: that thy promises may be verified, and my soul comforted. While the holy maid was thus praying, there were a number of women in the chamber, some of the household, and some of the neighbours, that came thither at that time (as the manner is) to mourn and to do such things, as were to be done about the dead corpse. Among these women some there were also, that gave diligent ear to the holy maid, & heard distinctly, what words she spoke in her prayer. But they all saw this (and were witnesses of the same) that, soon after the holy maid had ended her prayer, the soul returned to the body again, and the woman lived afterwards a convenient time to repent her of her former offences, and so died in the state of grace. This story did the holy maid herself declare afterwards to Doctor Raimundus her ghostly father.   

How the holy maid obtained of God by prayer the conversion of two thieves, that were lead to execution.  
Chap. 10.  
ON a day, while the holy maid was in the house of one of her sisters called Alexia, it chanced, that two famous thieves condemned to death were carried in a cart through the street towards the place of execution. Their sentence was, that by the way, as they were carried, they should be pinched now in one part of their body, and now in an other with hot irons or pincers, and so in the end put to death. Which pain was so intolerable, that they (which were before in a desperate state, and might by no persuasions be brought to repent them of their manifold and heinous offences committed against God and the world) blasphemed God & all his Saints. In so much that it seemed, that the temporal torments, that they were now in, were but a beginning and way to these everlasting torments and fire, that they went unto. But our merciful Lord, whose provident goodness disposeth all things sweetly, had otherwise determined of them. When they were come near to this house, Alexia hearing a great concourse, and noise of people in the street, went to the window, to see, what it might be. And seeing the horrible manner of the execution, she ran in again, and said to the holy maid. O mother; if ever you will see, a pitiful sight, come now. With that the holy maid went to the window and looked out: and so soon as she had seen the manner of the execution, she returned forthwith to her prayers again. For (as she declared afterwards secretly to Doctor Raimundus) she saw a great multitude of wicked spirits about those felons, which did burn their souls more cruelly within, than the tormentors did their bodies without. Which lamentable sight moved her to double compassion. She had great pity to see their bodies: but much more to se● their souls, wherefore turning herself to our Lord with great fervour of spirit, she made her prayer to him after this manner. Ah dear Lord, wherefore dost thou suffer these thy creatures, made to thine own image and likeness, and redeemed with the price of thy most precious blood, to be thus lead away in triumph by the cruel enemy? I know, o Lord, & confess, that these men are justly punished according to the measure of their offences. So was the thief also, that hung by thee on the Cross: whom notwithstanding thou tookest to mercy, saying that he should be with thee that very day in Paradyse. Thou didst not refuse Peter, but gavest him a frindlie and comfortable look, though he, like an unkind man, had thrice refused and denied thee. Thou drewest Marie Magdalen to thee with the lines of love, when she had estranged herself from thee by her manifold sins. Thou tookest Mathewe the Publican from a sinful trade of life in the world, to be an Apostle and Evangelist. Thou didst not repel the woman of Cananee, nor Zacheus the Prince of Publicans, but diddest most sweetly accept the one and invite the other. Wherefore I most humbly beseech thee, for all thy mercies, hitherto showed unto man, and for all those also, that thine infinite goodness hath determined to show hereafter, that thou wilt vouchsafe to look down upon these wretched creatures, & mollify their hearts with the fire of thy holy spirit, that they may be delivered from the second death. Our Lord heard the prayer of his Spouse, and granted her such a grace, that she went in spirit with those two thieves towards the place of execution, weeping and lamenting for their sins, and moving them to repentance for the same. Which thing the wicked spirits perceived well enough: and therefore they cried out upon her, and said. Catherine, leave to trouble us. If thou wilt not, we will surely enter into thee and vex thee. To whom the holy maid made this answer. As God will, so will I. And therefore I will not cease to do, what lieth in me, for the relief of these poor wretches; because I know, it is the will of God, that I should so do. And so continuing in prayer, she procured them a very singular favour and grace: as the effect declared. For, when these thieves were come to the gate of the city, our Saviour Christ appeared to them, showing to them his precious wounds all streaming down with blood, & inviting them to become repentant for their former life. Which if they did, he put them in a sure comfort, that all was quite forgiven. At this strange sight their hearts were suddenly so altered (to the great wonder of as many as were there present) that they changed their style, and turned their blasphemy into thanksgiving & praising God for his great mercies. And, showing themselves to be heartily sorry & contrite for their sins, desired earnestly, that they might have a Priest to hear their Confessions. That done, they went forward cheerfully towards the place of execution: where they showed likewise great tokens of joy & comfort, for that they had to pass by a reproachful death to a glorious life. All the people saw this strange alteration, & were much astonished at it, because as then they understood not the cause thereof: which afterwards came to light by this mean. The Priest, that heard these felons Confessions, went soon after to visit Doct. Rai: the holy maids Confessor, & in talk declared unto him, how wonderfully God had wrought, with them. Doct. Rai: forthwith begun to suspect, as it was indeed, & therefore asked Alexia, what the holy maid was doing at that time, when the thieves were lead through their street towards the place of execution. She made him answer, & declared the whole process of the matter, so much as she had seen & heard in her own house. Whereby Doctor Raimundus saw a very great likelihood, that the thing had been wrought (as he deemed before) by the prayer and intercession of the holy maid. Howbeit for the more assurance he took an occasion afterwards to ask the holy maid herself. And she (to the honour of God, and for the satisfaction of her ghostly father) declared unto him particularly, how every thing had passed. Within a few days, after this was done, certain of the sisters, that chanced to be present, while the holy maid was praying, heard her say these words in her prayer with a full voice. O Lord jesus, I most heartily thank thee, that thou hast delivered them out of the second prison. Of the which words being demanded afterwards, what she meant by them, she made answer, that the souls of those thieves were as then delivered out of Purgatory, and restored to Paradyse. Such was her charity towards them, that, as she had by prayer delivered them from the everlasting torments of hell, so she never ceased to pray for them, until she saw, that they were also passed the temporal pains of Purgatory, and received into everlasting bliss.   

How by the prayer of the holy maid an obstinate sinner was turned to God.  
Chap. 11.  
THere was a man dwelling in the city of Sienna called Andrew Mardine, well endued with wordly substance, but bare of heavenly riches, void of the love and fear of God, a baretter, blasphemer, and wicked liver. This man about the fortieth year of his age, was suddenly taken with a very grievous sickness, which held him so vehemently, that he was feign to keep his bed, where he lay & waxed every day weaker & weaker until at the length he was given, over by the Physicians and despaired of all men. His curate hearing that, came to visit him, and (as his Pastoral charge required) exhorted him with many words, that he should now in the end of his life, dispose himself to Confession and penance for his soul's health. But he was so obstinately bend, that he little esteemed the Priest, and less his counsel. Which thing his wife perceiving (which was a good woman, and had a great desire to saw her husbands soul) ran to diverse and sundry religious people, both men and women, & besought them, that they would come and do their diligence to turn his heart. They came at her instance, and used many persuasive means to bring him to a better mind, setting before his eyes now the horrible threats of hell fire, and now the sweet peomises of the joys of heaven: but all in vain. After them came the curate again, with great heaviness and care to do, what in him lay, towards the recovery of this soul, that was thus in danger to perish. He exhorted him (as he had done before) and thereunto added many goodly persuasions, to induce him to be repentant for his foremer life, and to call to God for mercy. But the wretched man's heart was so hardened, that he might not endure to hear him speak, but scorned both him and his wholesome exhortations. In so much that at the length he fell into plain desperation and sin against the holy Ghost: and in that damnable state drew on a pace towards his end. This matter chanced to come to the knowledge of doctor Thomas, who, having great compassion of the wretched man's case, went forthwith towards the holy maids lodging, hoping by her mediation to find some grace in the sight of God. But when he came thither, he found the holy maid ravished from her bodily senses. And so long as she was so, he durst not do any thing to her body, whereby to bring her again: and tarry there any longer he might not, because it wae very late in the evening. Wherefore he gave a very straight charge to one of the sisters, that was there with her at that time, that, when the holy maid came to herself again, she should desire her in his name, and also charge her in the virtue of her obedience, that she should extend her charity towards that miserable man, that lay on passing, and pray to God heartily for his recovery. When the holy maid understood the lamentable state of the sick man, and withal the charge, that was given her from her ghostly father, she tarried not, but forthwith set herself to prayer, and besought our Lord with great instance and fervour of spirit, that he would not suffer that soul to perish, whom he had redeemed with the price of his most precious blood. To that our Lord made answer and said, that the iniquity of that wicked man was so heinous in his sight, that the cry thereof pierced the heavens and called for justice; for he had not only in words most horribly blasphemed the holy name of God and of his Saints, but also with great despite and malice thrown a table into the fire, in the which was painted the death and passion of our Saviour Christ, together with the images of our blessed Lady and other Saints. By the which fact he had deserved everlasting damnation. When the holy maid heard that, she fell down prostrate before our Lord, and said. O Lord, if thou wilt look narrowly to our iniquities, who shallbe able to stand? Wherefore camest thou down from heaven into the world? Wherefore tookest thou flesh of the most pure and unspotted virgin Marie? Wherefore didst thou suffer a most bitter and reproachful death? Hast thou done all these things, o Lord, to this end, that thou mightest call men to a straight and rigorous account for their sins, and not rather, that thou mightest utterly cancel their debts and take them to mercy? Why dost thou, o merciful Lord, tell me of the sins of one lost man, seeing thou hast borne upon thine own shoulders, the sins of the whole world, that none should be lost? Do I lie here prostrate at thy feet to demand justice, and not rather to crave mercy? Do I present myself here before thy divine Majesty, to plead the innocency of this wretched creature, and not rather to confess, that he is guilty of everlasting death and damnation, and that the only refuge is, to appeal to thine endless mercy? Remember, o dear Lord, what thou saidst to me, when thou didst first will me to go abroad, and to procure the salvation of many souls. Thou knowest right well, that I have none other joy or comfort in this life, but only to see the conversion of sinners unto thee. And for this cause only I am content to lack the joyful fruition of thy blessed presence. Wherefore, if thou take this joy from me, what other thing shall I find in this vale of misery, wherein to take pleasure or comfort? O most merciful Father & God of all comfort, reject not the humble petition of thine handmaid, put me not away from thee at this time; but graciously grant me, that this my brothers hard heart may be mollified, and made to yield to the working of thy holy spirit. Thus did the holy maid continue in prayer and disputation with our Lord, from the beginning of the night till the next morning. All the which time she neither slept nor took any manner of rest: but wept and wailed continually, for great compassion, that she had, to see that soul perish: our Lord evermore alleging his justice, and she craving his mercy. At the length our Lord, being as it were overcome with her importunity and crying, gave her this comfortable answer. Dear daughter, I will stand no longer with thee in this matter. Thy tears and lamentable crying have prevailed, and wrested the sword of my justice out of mine hand. This sinful man shall for thy sake find such favour and grace, as thou requirest for him. And with that our Lord withdrew himself from the holy maid, and appeared the same hour to the sick man, and spoke to him after this manner. Dear child, why wilt thou not be repentant for the sins, that thou hast committed against me? In any case be sorry for thine offences, and confess the same: and I am ready to pardon thee. That word so pierced the heart of that obstinate man, that he relented forth with, and cried with a loud voice to them, that were there present, & besought them for God's love, that they would help him to a ghostly father with all possible speed. For (said he) my Lord and Saviour jesus Christ hath showed himself mercifully to me, and willed me to be confessed of all my sins. When they heard that, they were very much astoined (but withal marvelously comforted) to see that sudden and blessed alteration in him. And they made great haste to bring him a ghostly father: to whom he made a perfect Confession of all his sins with great contrition, and so passed out of this world in the state of grace.   

How the holy maid by prayer procured the conversion of a fierce young gentleman in Sienna, called james Tolomes'.  
Cap. 12.  
THere was in the city of Sienna a gentleman of a worshipful parentage, called Francis Tolomes', who took to wife on Rabes a gentlewoman likewise of a good house, and by her had many sons and daughters. His eldest son was called james, a proud and haughty young man, and of nature very fierce and cruel: in so much that being yet but a child of age, he killed two men with his own hands: which caused all men both to dread him, and to shun his company. And as he grew in years, so did he also increase in malice and wickedness, and ran without rain or bridle even as his outrageous mind carried him into all kinds of mischief. He had two sisters, the one called Francis, the other Ginoccia: which were also dissolute and light of behaviour, and specially Ginoccia, which was wholly given to vaintie and superfluous decking of herself. And yet had she evermore a care to keep the virginity of her body: which she did, rather for fear of shame in the world, then for any fear or love of God. Which thing was no small grief to their mother Rabes: who being a woman, that feared God, and tendered much the soul's health of her daughters, went on a day to the holy maid, and declaring the state of her daughters, besought her for God's love, that she would be so good, as to come with her, and give them some godly exhortation. The holy maid, which had evermore a passing great desire to win souls to God, went with the gentlewoman with a very good will, and did as she was required. And her words so wrought in the hearts of those two young maidens, that they gave over all the vanities of the world, and took the habit of S. Dominicke, Ginoccia forth with, and Francis soon after. In the which rule and discipline they lived a very straight and rigorous life: especially Ginoccia which of the two lived in greater austerity and penance. When their brother james, who was at that time abroad, heard tell of this strange alteration of his two sisters, he raged like a mad man, and cursed all them, that had moved his sisters to take that habit. And he threatened very boldly, that he would tear those garments from their backs, and bring them home again. And no man durst adventure to stay him in that rage, but only a young brother of his, that was in company with him at that time, who spoke to him after this manner. Brother james, said he, you are not acquainted with this sister Catherine. But if you go to Sienna, you shall see; she shall turn you also, and make you to go Confession. To Confetsion, said he? I defy thee and them all. Assure thyself, I will cut the throats of all those Priests and friars, before they shall bring me to confession. Well brother, said the child (and he repeated his words oftentimes, speaking with great affiance, as though he had foreseen the event of this matter in the spirit of prophecy) you shall find my words true, and shall see, that the holy maid shall bring you to grace. Those words set him in such a fury, that he cursed and banned, and fared like a man distracted. And in this fury he entered into the city, and went forth with to his father's house: where he took on like a mad man, threatening and swearing, that he would do many horrible mischiefs, unless they brought to pass, that his sisters, and specially Ginoccia might put off that habit, and come home again. But his mother Rabes, who was well acquainted with his furious nature, & therefore feared, lest he would of a sudden do some mischievous act (as his manner was) came to him, and with fair words stayed his rage, that he did no harm that night. And the next morning she sent for Doctor Thomas, beseeching him for God's sake, that he would take the pains to come, and give her son james some godly exhortation. Doctor Thomas came, & with him friar Bartilmewe. And they spoke many good words to the impatient young man: but, for aught, that they could perceive, all in vain. All this time was the holy maid in prayer, and laboured earnestly to win that young man's soul to God: for she understood (not by the relation of any man, but only by revelation from God) in what a damnable state he stood: and she saw in spirit, what pains those good men took to recover him. And it was evidently seen afterwards by the proof, that our Lord blessed and furthered their charitable travail in that behalf for the holy maids sake, and in contemplation of her devout prayers. For when these men had spent a good time about him, and saw, that they could do him no good: at the length, while Doctor Bartilmewe was speaking to him, behold, of a sudden, and contrary to all expectation, the young man (being undoubtedly touched by the finger of God) resented and said of himself, that he was very well content and glad, that his sisters should serve God in that holy rule and discipline. And he required furthermore with great humility, that he might be Confessed and absolved of his own sins, that he might serve God with them also. The which he did in deed very perfectly, to the great wonder and comfort of as many as were there present: which a little before had seen him as fiercc as a lion, and now as mild as a lamb. His mother Rabes was a joyful woman, to see this strange and blessed alteration in her son, and so were all the rest of her family with her. Now, when Doctor Thomas and Doctor Bartilmewe his companion had rendered thanks to almighty God for this great mercy showed upon that young man, they went out of hand with joyful hearts towards the holy maids lodging, and thought the time long, until they might impart these glad tidings of his conversion to her. But when they came thither, they understood, that the holy maid was above in an upper chamber in prayer, and ravished (as her manner was) in spirit, and one other of the sisters with her. By reason whereof they were constrained to tarry a while. At the length, when the holy maid was come to herself again, that other sister came down to entertain Doctor Thomas her Confessor: who saluted her with a cheerful countenance, and began forthwith to declare the cause of his coming to her. Sister, said he, we are come to bring you very good news. Master james Tolmes is by the grace of God become a new man, and this morning hath made a general Confession of all his sins to Doctor Bartilmewe. Father, said that sister, we have great cause both to rejoice, and also to thank our Lord for these joyful tidings. Howbeit they are no news to us: for sister Catherine, before I came down to you, told me so much, as you tell me now. And with that they went up into the upper chamber to the holy maid: who immediately upon their entry, spoke to them after this manner. Fathers, said she, we are much bound to thank our Lord and Saviour, that never despiseth the humble prayer of his servants. And as he putteth holy desires into their hearts, so doth he also accomplish the same to their benefit, and comfort. The wicked fiend had thought to have gotten a little lamb, of the which he had conceived some hope. But he hath (through the unspeakable goodness of God) lost a great prey, of the which he had full possession. He laid for Ginoccia: but he hath lost james. And so it falleth out oftentimes with this ravenous and insatiable wolf, that, while he openeth his jaws wider to geat more, he both letteth fall some better morsel, that he had in his mouth before, and yet misseth of that other thing, that he so griedily snatcheth after. Our Lord be blessed and thanked for ever more: whose provident wisdom disposeth all things sweetly, and turneth the wily malice of this subtle serpent, to the benefit and comfort of his chosen servants. After this Ginoccia continued without any molestation in that holy state of life, that she had vowed: wherein, when she had suffered many sicknesses with a very patiented and cheerful mind, she passed out of this world to God, with a marvelous inward sweetness and comfort, as it was evidently seen by the manner of her departure. Soon after, her sister Francis likewise took the habit and rule of the sisters of penance, and therein continued with great commendation and opinion of holiness, so long as she lived (which was in deed no long tyme.) And it was noted of her also, at the time of her passing out of this life, that she smiled sweetly, and showed great tokens of spiritual joy, even when she was at the very point of death. And this james their brother, after that he was thus reclaimed by the devout prayer of the holy maid and diligence of good men, became a new man, and lived in the state of matrimony a very quiet and orderly life, to the great comfort of his friends, and example of virtue to as many, as chanced to converse with him.   

How the holy maid obtained by prayer, the conversion of a gentleman called Nannes.  
Chap. 13.  
THere was in the city of Sienna a worshipful gentleman called Nannes de Vannis: which bore a great sway among the people, by reason that, as he was a very fierce and warlike man, so he was also of a marvelous subtle and crafty wit to deal in wordly affairs. This Nannes with the rest of his family, allies, and friends, maintained a faction and perpetual quarrel against certain other families in the city: who dreading his power and policy, sought by means and with great submission, to make their peace with him. He made them answer, that it was all one to him, whether they had peace or no peace, and that for his own part, he was very ready and willing to come to accord, if they could win certain other to it, to whom it appertained as well as to himself. And thus he gave them very fair words, and put them in hope of peace: but in the mean time he dealt secretly with those other people, willing them to stand stiffly to it, and in no wise to condescend to any conditions of peace. This matter came to the ears of the holy maid: which, seeing herein a goodly occasion ministered unto her of working a very charitable work, sought by many means to speak with him. But evermore, when he understood, that she was coming towards him, he fled from her, even as the serpent is wont to flee from the enchantour, that cometh to charm him. At the length, by the importunity of a certain holy Eremite of S. Augustine's order, called brother William, an English man, they won so much of him, that he was content to hear the holy maid speak, but yet with this protestation, that, whatsoever she said concerning the accord, he was fixed, and would not be removed. And with this resolution he went to the holy maids house, at a time, when she was abroad by a very urgent occasion of procuring the health of souls. But Doctor Raimundus by the providence of God was there at that time: who understanding, that Nannes was coming, was very glad of it (for he knew, that the holy maid had a great desire to speak with him.) Wherefore he went out to meet with him, and to give him entertainment until her return. When they were come into the house, Doctor Raimundus lead him the way into the holy maids chapel or oratory: where he caused him to sit down, and ministered such talk unto him, as he thought most convenient to protract the tyme. But, after that they had sat there a little while, and saw that she came not: Nannes, thought the time long, and therefore began to break with Doctor Raimundus after this manner. Father, said he, I promised brother William, that I would come hither and speak with the holy maid. But now, seeing she is abroad about some other business, and I have at this present certain affairs, that must needs be dispatched out of hand: I pray you, excuse me unto her, and tell her, that I would gladly have spoken with her, if she had been at home. Doctor Raimundus was very sorry, that the holy maid came not away. Howbeit to win yet a little more time, he took occasion to enter in talk with him concerning the peace, and asked him, how the matter stood between such and such people. Whereunto he made answer after this manner. Father; said he, to you that are a priest and religious, and to this blessed maid, of whom I hear report of great virtue and holiness, I will make no lie, but tell you plainly and sincerely, how the case standeth between these men. True it is, that I am he, that letteth this accord and agreement: though in deed it seem otherwise, because the matter is openly contrived by others. I alone do privily maintain and uphold one side: and if I alone would give my consent to the peace, the matter were ended. But, to tell you my meaning in few words, my peace shallbe made and firmed with the blood of mine adversaries. This is my resolution, and from this I will not be removed. Wherefore I pray you, set your hearts at rest, and trouble me no more. And with that he rose up, and took his leave to departed. But Doctor Raimundus was very loath to let him go: and therefore, though he saw, that he was unwilling to tarry there, and for that cause loath also to hear any more words of that, or any other matter, yet did he (to gain more time) ask him diverse and sundry questions, and by that means held him there so long, that the holy maid was come home and entered into the house, before he could get out of the oratory. When Nannes saw the holy maid, he was sorry, that he had tarried so long. But she was right glad to see him there, and bade him welcome after a very charitable and loving manner, and caused him to sit down again. And when he was set, she asked him the cause of his coming. He made her answer, and declared so much in effect, as he had declared before to Doctor Raimundus, adding his protestation withal, that concerning that matter of the peace, he would abide no talk: for he was resolutely bend to the contrary. The holy maid hearing that, began to exhort him to brotherly love and concord, and showed him withal, what a dangerous and damnable state they were in, that lived out of charity. But he gave but a deaf ear to her words. Which thing she perceived well enough: and therefore she sat still, and spoke no more to him, but, casting up her eyes and heart to God, she besought him of grace and mercy for that hard hearted man. When Doctor Raimundus, which had evermore a diligent eye to the holy maid, had espied that, he spoke some words to Nannes to occupy him the while: nothing doubting, but that she should work some better effect in him by that silent prayer, then both he and she had done before with many words. And so it proved in deed: for within a little time after, he spoke to them both after this manner. It shall not be said of me, that I am so hard and untractable, that I will have mine own mind in all things, and relent in nothing. I will condescend to your mind in some one thing, and then I will take my leave of you. I have four quarrels in the city: of the which I am content to put one into your hands. Do in it, what you shall think good, make you my peace: and I will abide your order. With that he rose up, and would have gone his way. But in the rising, being inwardly touched, he said these words to himself. O Lord, what comfort is this, that I feel at this instant in my soul, upon the only naming of this word (peace?) And soon after he said again. O Lord, O God, what virtue or strength is this, that holdeth and draweth me after this sort? I have no power to go hence: I can deny you nothing, that you require me. O Lord, o Lord, what thing may this be, that thus enforceth me? And with that he burst out into weeping, and said. I am quite overthrown: I am not able to make any longer resistance. Then suddenly he cast himself down at the holy maids feet, and with marvelous great submission and abundance of tears said these words. O blessed maid, I am ready to do, whatsoever you command me, not only in this matter of peace, but also in all other things, whatsoever they be. Hitherto, I know well, the devil hath lead me up and down fast tied in his chain, but now I am resolved to follow you, whether soever it shall please you to lead me; And therefore I pray you for charity's sake, be you my guide, and teach me, how I may deliver my soul out of his bands. At those words, the holy maid turned to him, and said. Brother, our Lord be thanked, that you are now, through his great mercy, come to understand, in how dangerous a state you stood. I spoke to you concerning your soul's health: and you made light of my words. I spoke to our Lord touching the same matter, and he was content to hear me. My advise therefore is, that you do penance for your sins in time, for fear of some sudden calamity, that may fall upon you, which, finding you unprovided, may otherwise bear you down and quite overwhelm you. This gentleman was so inwardly stricken with these words of the holy maid, that he went forthwith to Doctor Raimundus, and made a general Confession of all his sins with great sorrow and contrition. And so, when he had made his peace with almighty God, by the advise of Doctor Raimundus and virtue of the holy Sacrament of penance: he was content likewise to submit himself to the order of the holy maid, and according to her direction and arbitrement to make a firm peace with all his adversaries. Within a few days, after this man's was thus converted, it chanced, that he was taken by the governor of the city, and cast into a straight prison, for certain outrages, that he had committed before. And it was commonly talked among the people, that he should be put to death. The which when Doctor Raimundus understood, he came to the holy maid with a heavy cheer, and said. Lo, mother, so long as Man's served the devil, so long did all things go prosperously with him. But now, sense the time, that he began to serve God, we see, the world is wholly bend against him. This sudden alteration putteth me in great doubt and fear of the man, lest, being as yet but a young and tender branch, he should be broken of by the violence of this storm, and so fall into despair. Wherefore I beseech you heartily, good mother, commmend his state to God in your prayers. And as you have by your mediation delivered him from everlasting death, so do your endeavour also to deliver him from this temporal and imminent danger. To that the holy maid made answer; Father, said she, why take you this matter so heavily? Me thinketh, you should rather be glad of it. for by this you may conceive a very sure hope, that our Lord hath pardoned him all his sins, and changed those everlasting pains, that were due to him for the same, into these temporal afflictions. When he was of the world, the world made much of him: as one that was his own. But now, sense he began to spoorne at the world, no marvel, if the world do likewise kick at him again. As for the fear, that you have, lest he, being overlaied with these calamities, should fall into despair: be of good comfort, and assure yourself, that the merciful goodness of our Lord, that hath delivered him out of the deep dungeon of hell, will not suffer him to perish in prison. And as she said, so it proved in deed. For within a few days after he was delivered out of prison. His life was in deed spared, but for that, they set a great fine of money on his head. Whereof the holy maid was nothing sorry, but rather glad: for, said she, our Lord hath mercifully taken away from him tha poison, with the which he had before, and might agine, have poisoned himself. So soon as this man's was thus delivered, he like a grateful gentleman, ascribing the benefit both of his foremer recovery out of sin; and also of this his delivery out of prison, to the merits and prayer of the holy maid, made a deed of gift to her of a goodly palace, that he had, four miles from the city. Of the which, by licence of Pope Grogorie the eleventh, she made a monastery for her spiritual daughters the sisters of penance, and dedicated it to our blessed Lady, and in the honour of her, named the place. Our Lord of Angels? And he, after this happy conversion, was wholly directed by doctor Raimundus, and lead a very blessed life.   

What a wonderful grace the holy maid had in making exhortations, and converting souls to God.  
Chap. 14.  
Among a number of strange gifts, that were in this holy maid, one was, a marvelous singular grace, that she had in drawing the hearts of men unto God, not only with the words, that she spoke unto them, but also with her only presence. And in this she so much passed all, that we read or hear reported of other great Saints, that it might seem incredible, but that it pleased almighty God to make it known to the world, by diverse and sundry effects, wrought in such sort, that they could not be covered. Many times, as she was passing from place to place, the people came out from all sides by hundreds and thousands to see her: of the which great numbers were won to God by her godly exhortations, and went forthwith to be confessed of their sins with great sorrow and contrition. Of the which thing when Pope Gregory the eleventh was informed, by the report of credible people, to further her charitable travail in winning of souls to God, he made her a special grant by his bull or letter patent, that she might have always three learned confessors about her: unto whom he gave authority to absolve from all kinds of sin, in as ample manner, as any bishop hath within his diocese. And those three confessors were so thoroughly occupied, by reason of the great multitudes, that were turned to God by her means, that Doctur Raimundus (who was one of the three, and evermore assistant to her) reported both of himself and of the other two also, that many times they sat in confession from morning to night, without any bodily recreation or refection: yea and sometimes, when night came, had scantly so much leisure, as to receive a little sustenance. The which when the holy maid perceived, she gave charge to the rest that were about her, that they should have a care of the confesssours, and provide them of things necessary. Which was in deed very requisite for they were so intentive to their spiritual harvest, and took such a passing inward delight, to see the wonderful increase, that almighty God had sent in all places, where they travailed with the holy maid, that they live minded either meat or drink, or any thing else belonging to the body. And when all bodily recreations failed, it was no small recreation and comfort to them, to see the holy maid herself, what a spiritual jubilee she kept, and how her heart did as it were leap and dance for joy, when she saw such numbers of souls to leave the broad ways of their accustomed sinful life, and now by her direction to walk in the narrow paths of Gods holy commandments. And as the words of the holy maid, had a wonderful virtue and strength in drawing the hearts of such as were present and might hear her speak: so had she also a singular gift of persuasion in her writings to them that were absent, and might not hear her words: as it may appear by her letters written with a marvelous heavenly grace and eloquence, to Popes and Cardinals, to Kings and Princes, to Bishops and Prelates, to Lords and Rulers, to communities and common weals, to Magisitates and private citizens, to religious people both men and women, and also to diverse and sundry secular people. And such was her zeal and charitable affection towards all kinds of men, that, whether they were present or absent, she omitted not to do good, where soever occasion was ministered.   

How the holy maid made many goodly sermons or collations in the presence of Pope Gregory, and afterwards likewise in the presence of Pope Vrbanus, and his Cardinals.  
Cap. 15.  
AFter that this chosen vessel of God was appointed to show herself to the world (as is before declared) to bear the name of Christ before kings and rulers, and all other states of men and women: she made diverse and sundry sermons in the presence of Pope Gregory the eleventh, with such a wonderful grace, eloquence, and authority, that the Pope himself, and all, that were about him, were astoined to hear her. And afterwards, being required by Pope Vrbanus his successor to do the like in open consistory, she made such a wonderful and dreadful oration, concerning the particular providence of God over his Church, and over the head pastor of the same; (whom she declared to be the said Pope Vrbanus the sixth, affirming constantly before them all, that she understood so much by a most certain revelation from God:) and she rebuked both the pope and all his Cardinals with such a constant boldness, for their base minds and lack of manly courage in God's cause; that they were all enforced to confess, that it was not she that spoke, but the spirit and wisdom of God in her. Whereupon Pope Vrbanus, turning himself to the rest, said these words. Behold, brethren, how contemptible we are become in the sight of God, for being thus fearful in his cause. Our Lord hath sent here a seely woman, to control and reproach us of cowardice. I call her a seely woman, not for any defect, that I note in her, but only to express the frailty of her sex or kind, which (as you know) is naturally more subject to fear, than we are. It would be thought in this case, that she (as a woman) should be timorous, and we manly and stout. But we see now, that we are faint hearted and dejected, and she contrariwise very full of manly courage and comfort. It is surely a great shame and reproach to us all, that we have need to be comforted at this time by a woman. Howbeit, seeing it is the will of God to send us such a comforter, let us accept it: especially considering that her words are most true: which are, that the vicar of Christ ought not to fear, though the whole world should set themselves in arms against him: for so much as almighty God, who hath taken the charge and protection of him, is stronger than the world. When the pope had said these words, he turned himself to the holy maid, and gave her a very grave testimony of virtue and holiness. And when he had so done, he opened the treasure of the Church, and gave many spiritual graces, both to her, and to them, that were there with her Many other collations did she make, in places, where occasion was ministered to edify souls, to the great profit and comfort of them, that heard her: as it may appear in part by some things, that are already declared in this book before, and more by this present matter and some other things, that shallbe declared hereafter.   

How the holy maid was sent to Pope Gregory from the Florentines about a treaty of peace: and how she was sent back again with the conditions of peace in her own hand.  
Chap. 16.  
ABout the year of our Lord 1375. the city of Florence, which had in foretymes showed itself evermore loyal and obedient to the Sea Apostolic, being moved, partly by the instigation of certain evil disposed citizens, that were in authority, and partly also (as it was thought) by the lewd demeanour of some insolent people, that bare office in the Church, began to withdraw their obedience, and to join themselves with the enemies of the Church. By reason whereof there ensued a general revolt in Italy, almost of all the territories, that belonged to the Sea Apostolic: which were at that time (as it is reported) to the number of three score cities, and ten thousand walled towns. Pope Gregory the eleventh seeing that, proceeded against the Florentines by way of excommunication: whereof it came to pass, that their merchants and travailers, wheresoever they went, were taken, rob, and spoiled in all places, and debarred of all traffic with other nations. The which smart and loss of temporal goods so pinched them, that they were enforced to seek all possible means, how they might be reconciled to the Pope's holiness again. And because they understood, that the holy maid was in great credit and favour with the Pope, by reason of her virtue and holiness: the lords and principal rulers of the city thought good, that Doctor Raimundus her Confessor should be sent before, as it were to make her way. And that done, they sent for the holy maid also. And when she was come almost to the city of Florence: they went out against her, to receive her with all honour: and besought her for God's love, that she would take the pains to go to Avignon (where the Pope was then resident) and to entreat him to condescend to certain reasonable conditions or peace. The holy maid had such a passing desire to make peace, that she cast no doubt neither of the travail and tediousness of the long journey, nor yet of the effect of her pains with the Pope's holiness, but took it upon her with a very good will. When she came to Avignon, she spoke to the Pope so effectually, and used such persuasive means to induce him to condescend to the peace, that he without any further deliberation or sticking at the matter, made her this resolute answer. Daughter, said he, that you may see, how much I tender peace and concord, I put the whole matter in your hand: Do in it, as you shall think good. Only this, have a regard to the honour of the Church. And with that he revoked his process and sentence of excommunication against the city of Florence: by reason whereof, they had some respite for a time, from such vexations and troubles, as they suffered before in all places, where they had traffic with other nations. The which when certain crafty people, that bore the sway at that time among the people, perceived, they thought to use the opportunity of that release, to the furtherance of their malicious intent, which was to hinder the peace. And though they spoke openly of pacification, yet did they work covertly by all possible means, to deprave and discredit, whatsoever was spoken or done for the confirmation of the same. In so much that, when the holy maid sent the conditions of peace to them, requiring them to set their hands to them, and to make a public instrument upon the same (as the manner is, when any composition of peace is made) they denied utterly to do it. The which thing Pope Gregory foresaw very well, and in deed said these words to the holy maid, before she sent unto them. Believe me, Catherine, (said he) these Florentines have beguiled thee. And either they will send thee none answer at all, or, if they do, they will not do it to such effect, as thou requirest. And in truth as he said, so it was; For afterwards, when the Ambassadors came from Florence to the Pope, and it was thought, that they should have conferred with the holy maid, they refused it plainly, and said, that they had no such commission. The holy maid seeing that, was in deed very sorry to see there unhonest and crafty dealing. Howbeit she ceased, not to assuage the displeasure of the Pope's holiness justly conceived against them: and she used marvelous means to persuade him, that he should rather show himself a pitiful father towards them, than a rigorous judge. While the matter stood in these terms, the Pope, being resolved to return again to the city of Rome (which was also wrought by the wonderful persuasion of the holy maid) thought good to differre this treaty of peace with the Florentines, until he came thither, where it might be done with better opportunity. And so the Pope returning to Rome, the holy maid with Doctor Raimundus and the rest of her company went home to Sienna: where she busied herself (after her accustomed manner) about the winning of souls to God.   

How the holy maid was sent back from Pope Gregory to the Florentines, with the condiditions of peace freely put in her own hand.  
Cap. 17.  
AT what time these things were in doing, it chanced, that Doctor Raimundus was very familiarly acquainted with a worshipful gentleman of Florence called Master Nicolas Soderines', who was well thought of among all good men for virtue and godliness. Doctor Raimundus reasoning with him on a time, and complaining of the unjust dealing of the Florentines in that treaty of peace, the gentleman made answer, that in truth it was the fault of some few; which being in office and authority among the people, were able to lead the multitude, where they listed. And if those few could by any means be displaced, he doubted not, but that any just demand would be heard among the people. When Doctor Raimundus had heard that, he conferred with the holy maid, and by her advise drew out certain treaties of peace, which were thought both very honourable, and also very profitable for both parties, if they might be received, and exhibited the same to the Pope's holiness▪ as scent from her. And declared withal, what he had heard of the afore named gentleman, concerning the hindrance of the said peace. Within a few days after, the Pope called for Doctor Raimundus again, and spoke unto him. I have (said he) received letters, in the which it is signified unto me, that, if the holy maid will go to Florence, the peace is like to be concluded. To that Doctor Raimundus made answer, that not only the holy maid, but he also, and all the rest of her spiritual sons and daughters, would be found ready at all times to offer themselves to Martyrdom, whensoever any like occasion was ministered, to show themselves dutiful and obedient children to our holy mother the Church. No, said the Pope, I think it not good, that you should go at this tyme. It may be dangerous for you. But she, being a woman, and also holden in great reverence among them for her virtue and holiness, may (I think) go without any danger. And so it was concluded: and the Pope wrote his letters to the city of Florence, in the which he gave her a marvelous testimony of holiness: and with the same sent her as an oratrice from the Sea Apostolic. When she came to Florence, she was received of the godlier sort with all honour and reverence: and by the means of the afore mentioned Master Nicolas Soderines', came to confer privately with many of those citizens, that lived in the fear of God: who were easily induced by her to accept the peace, that was offered unto them by the Pope's holiness. After this she went and conferred likewise with that company or party of the city, that were called Guelphi; and to them set out with many vehement words, what a proud, insolent, and ungrateful part it was, to hinder that holy peace, calling those few, that were the doers thereof, enemies and undoers of all common weal, and therefore unmeet to bear office among the people. She declared furthermore, what a profit was like to ensue to their city, by that peace, if it might be received, not only in their temporal goods, but also (and much more) for the furtherance & edifying of souls. Then she showed the heinousness of their fact to be such, in the sight both of God and man, that, if the rigour of laws and justice should be extended upon them, they had deserved to be extremely punished in body and soul. Last of all she gave them to understand, what a fatherly love the Pope's holiness bare to them, and how inclinable he was to show mercy, if they would submit themselves & seek it at his hands. And these points she set out unto them with such a comely grace & with words of such efficacy, that all those Magistrates, (with many other honest citizens) being brought by her talk into an utter misliking of their present troublesome state, and also into a great love and longing after that blessed peace, which, they saw evidently by her words, must needs turn them to very great commodity and comfort, went forth with to the lords and nobility of the city, & persuaded with them, that in any case they should seek to be reconciled to the Pope's holiness. And because certain people there present had openly impugned this peace, and specially one captain or principal man of the party called Guelphi, (which were in number eight) had spoken against it in plain words, they deprived them of their offices. Whereof there ensued a great turmoil in the city, by reason that the people so deprived, for envy & malice, & to be revenged of those, that had caused it, sought by the favour of the people to cause many other to be deprived also: & in the end caused so many to be deprived, that for lack of discreet Magistrates, there grew much disorder in the common weal. And though the holy maid did show openly at all times & in all places, that she had no liking of these broils, but rather great heaviness & sorrow to see, that, whereas her meaning was to set them at unity & concord abroad, her charitable travail was, through the malice of certain evil disposed people, made an occasion of civil discord and tumult at home: yet there lacked not a number of wicked and devilish men, which bore the common people in hand, that the holy maid and such as she dealt withal, were the cause of raising those troubles in the city. Whereupon first of all they bent themselves against those men, that had been doers in any degree about the afore mentioned deprivation. And of them, some were driven out of the city; some were slain: and some were constrained to flee for fear. Then they began to make outcries against the holy maid herself. Some said: Come, let us go to that naughty woman's house. Some others said. Let us kill the queanc, and cut her in pieces. With these and other the like words, those good folks, that kept her, were put in such fear, lest some great mischief might come either to themselves or to their houses for her sake, that they entreated her to departed. Whereat she showed herself to be no more moved (neither in words, nor yet in countenance) then if there had been no such thing. But smile sweetly to herself (as her manner was) and speaking comfortably to the rest, she went her way into an orchard not far from thence. Where, when she had made an exhortation to those devout people, that were about her, she set herself to prayer. While the holy maid was thus praying in the orchard after the example of our Saviour Christ, there came rushing in upon her a fierce company of cruel men, with clubs, spears, and swords ready drawn, shouting and crying horribly: Where is that naughty woman? where is that cursed wretch? where is she? With the noise of this outrageous and beastly cry, the holy maid, being, as it were, violently broken of the sweet sleep of her meditation, start up suddenly, and ran to meet with them, with as lovely and cheerful a countenance, as if she had been a young spouse, and had gone to receive her love, whom she had long looked for. And seeing among them one man, that came on faster than his company, having a very cruel and murdering look, shaking his sword after a dreadful manner, and crying louder than the rest: where is the naughty woman; which is she; which is Caterine: she offered herself to him, and kneeling down before him, said. I am Caterine. Do your will with me: but let these alone. At those words, the cruel hearted man, that came with a full purpose to strike her, was so stricken himself, that he had neither strength to hold up his hand against her, nor boldness to look her once in the face. She kneeled boldly before him without any weapon: and he stood trembling before her with his sword in his hand. There lacked no will nor boldness in her to receive the stroke: but there lacked both strength and courage in him to give it. As it may appear by a letter, that she wrote afterwards to doctur Raimundus: in the which she maketh a very pitiful lamentation; that she could not at that time effectually offer up her blood to the uspoted lamb of God, that had offered up his most precious blood so freely upon the Cross for her love. Now, though this wicked attempt of these furious men was thus stayed by the mighty hand of God: Yet did there remain such a fear stricken into the hearts of all good folks, both of the city, and of her company and retinue, that no man having the boldness to receive her into his house, they all gave her counsel to departed. But she, upon a great affiance, that she had in the merciful goodness of God, and also as a prophetess well assured of the final success and effect of the matter, said in plain words, that she would never departed the city, until the peace were fully and perfectly concluded. Which thing came to pass within a few days after, (even as she haid said) when Pope Gregory was dead, and Pope Vrbanus chosen in his place. At what time the first movers and principal workers of this tumult in the city of Florence were severely punished, and specially those, that did any thing against the holy maid. And a firm peace was made & established between the Pope's holiness and their city, to the honour of God, and great comfort not only of both parties, but of all Christendom beside.   

How the holy maid showed herself to be excellently well learned, both by her writings and works set out to the world, and also by her conferences and disputations had with certain great learned men.  
Chap. 18.  
IF any man doubt, whether the holy maid were learned, let him read her works, namely her book of Epistles, or the Dialogue, that she wrote concerning the providence of God, and there is no doubt, but that he shallbe fully satisfied and persuaded, that no creature could ever have conceived such points of high and heavenly learning without a very special grace & light given from God. And as she showed herself to be divinely learned by a number of books and treatises, that she indited and set out to the world: so did she also marvelously satisfy yea and pass the expectation of all learned men, that came of purpose to appose her, and to try in deed, whether the opinion of such excellent knowledge generally conceived of her, had his true ground in her, or rather in others: (as they suspected.) Concerning this point, a blessed and holy man called Steven, sometimes her ghostly child & trained under her discipline, & afterwards a monk of the Charterhouse, writeth one very notable example & worthy to be remembered. The which can not better be set out, then with his own words, which are these. When Pope Gregory, being in Avignon, gave much audience and reverence to the holy maid, there came three great prelate's unto him, and said. Holy father, how think you. This Caterine of Sienna is she of such great holiness, as she is reported to be? The Pope made answer. and said. Truly, we believe, she is a holy virgin. If it please your holiness (said they) we will go to see her. And we believe (said he) you shallbe well edified. And so they came to our house forthwith, after nine of the clock in summer. When they knocked, I went to open the door unto them. And one of them said to me: tell Caterine, that we would speak with her. When she understood of their being there, she came down with doctor john her confessor and certain other religious people in to one of the lower rooms: where, in a convenient place, they caused her to sit down in the middle. And so they entered talk with her after a very insolent manner, provoking her to choler with their biting words. And among other things they said. We come from the Pope's holiness, and are desirous to understand of you, whether you be sent from the Florentines, or no: as the common brute is. Have not they one sufficient man, to send about a matter of so great importance, unto so great a prince? And if you be not sent by them, we marvel much, how you, being a seely woman dare presume to treat of so weighty a matter, as this is with our holy father the Pope, etc. But the holy maid stood fast, like an unmovable pillar, and gave them very humble and pitthie answers: in so much that they marveled much at it. And when she had satisfied them at the full concerning this matter: they put out unto her very many, and withal very great questions: especially touching her abstraction and singular manner of life. And because the Apostle saith, that the angel of Satan transformeth himself into an angel of light, they asked her, how she knew, whether she were deceived or no. And so they spoke many words and proposed many questions, and in effect protracted the time, until it was night. Sometimes Doctor john would answer for her. And though he were a Doctor of divinity; yet were they such great learned men, that in few words they shut him up, and said unto him. You may be ashamed to speak after this manner in our presence. Let her answer for herself: for she satisfieth us much better, than you do. Now, among these three, one was an Archbishop, sometimes a friar of S. Francis order, which bore himself like a proud Pharisee in countenance (as it appeared) and made sometimes, as though he would not take the answers of the holy maid. But the other two at the length set themselves against him; and said. What would you have more of this maid? Without doubt she hath declared these matters more plainly and more copiously, then ever we found them declared by any of the doctors. And she showed many more very certain and true tokens unto them: and so there arose a great jar among themselves. But in the end they departed all alike satisfied and comforted: and made this report of her to our holy father the Pope, that they never found a soul neither so humble nor so illuminated. Howbeit, when the Pope understood, how they had ruffled with her to move her to choler, he was very angry with them: & made his excuse to her very effectually, declaring, that it was done without his will or consent. And he said furthermore, that, if those prelate's came any more to speak with her, they should shut the doors against them. The next day doctor Francis the Pope's physician said these words unto me. Know you those prelate's, that came yester day to our house? I made him answer, that I knew them not. Then said he to me. I assure you, that, if the knowledge of those three were put in one balance, and the knowledge of all the rest, that are in the court of Come, were put in the other, the knowledge of these three would weigh much more, then all theirs. And therefore I will tell you, that, if they had not found this maid Caterine to have a very good ground, she had made as ill a voyage at this time, as ever she made in her life. And then he commended her with very great and effectual words: which I omit in this place for brevities sake. These are the very words of that blessed and holy man father Steven: who was (as it is said) long time conversant with her, as her spiritual son and scholar: and afterwards became a monk and so consequently (for his virtue and holiness) a Prior over a covent of Carthusians near unto Pavia. Where, being earnestly required, he wrote a short abbridgment of the holy maids life. In the which is contained (briefly and in effect) the whole substance of this book. For corroboration whereof, he caused the said abbridgement to be firmed with the great seal of his covent, and to be subsigned with the hands of two public notaries, in the presence of a great number of witnesses. And made this solemn protestation withal in as earnest and vehement terms, as he could devise: that for confirmation of the truth of that whole story and every point contained in the same, to the honour of God and edifying of souls, he would be found ready at all times to take a corporal oath, in whatsoever form it could be most exactly devised, and to put his hand, not only to that present writing, but also into the fire, if it were required. And of this he called almighty God to witness, who kewe the secrets of his heart.   

Abriefe repetition or some, of many points of heavenly doctrine, revealed unto the holy maid immediately from God.  
Chap. 19  
THe holy maid was (as we have declared heretofore) oftentimes ravished in spirit, and utterly abstracted from her bodily senses. At which times it pleased almighty God to utter by secret inspiration unto the soul of his dear spouse, diverse & sundry points of mystical doctrine. Which she (being so ravished and abstracted) uttered in the presence of many godly and great learned men: which wrote, as she spoke, and compiled a book containing six treatises. The conclusion whereof I thought good to lay down in this place, word for word, as it is written: because it compriseth in few words, an abbridgement or brief somme of all such matters, as are set out at large in the whole book before. The words of almighty God to his spouse are these. Now most dear and well-beloved daughter, I have satisfied thy desire from the beginning of my talk, unto the last, that I had, concerning obedience: for, if thou be well remembered, thou requiredst of me with a careful desire (as thou knowest, I caused thee to desire) that I should make the fire of charity to increase in thee. Thou requiredst, I say, fover petitions: of the which one was for thyself. The which I satisfied by illuminating thee with the light of my truth, showing thee, that through the light of faith, with the knowledge of thee and me, by such means, as I declared unto thee, thou camest to the knowledge of truth. Thy second petition was, that I should show mercy to the world. Thy third petition was, for the body mystical of my holy Church, beseeching me, that I should take away from it darkness and persecutions, which it suffereth at this present. And thou requiredst, that I should punish the iniquities of the evil upon thee. Whereupon I declared unto thee, that no pain, that hath an end, or is given in time, that hath an end, is able of itself alone, to satisfy for a sin done and committed against me, which am an endless goodness. But it may well satisfy, if it be joined with contrition of heart and desire of soul. The manner also, how this satisfaction may be made, I have declared unto thee. Then I made thee answer, that I will show mercy to the world, showing thee, that it is proper to me to be merciful. Whereupon for mercy's sake, and for the inestimable love, that I bore to man, I sent my only begotten Son and word. The which thing that I might declare more plainly to thee, I likened him to a bridge, that reacheth from heaven to earth, by reason of the union, that is made in him, between the nature of God and man. And, to give thee yet a further light of my truth, I showed thee, how the way to climb up this bridge, is by three steps, to wit, by the three powers of the soul. And of this true bridge showed unto thee, I made a figure in my body, resembling those three steps. (as thou knowest very well) the first in my feet, the second in my side, and the third in my mouth. In the which I put the three states of the soul, to wit, the state imperfect, the state perfect▪ and the state most perfect: in the which the soul attaineth fully to the excellency of inward love. And in each of these I showed thee plainly, what thing that is, that taketh away imperfection: and what is the defect or let of perfection: and by what way one may come to it. I spoke to thee also concerning the secret deceits of the devils, and concerning spiritual self love. Furthermore I spoke to thee in these three states, of the reproofs, that my clemency maketh. The first reproof I put to be made in this life, before they depart out of their body. The second at their death; which toucheth them, that die in mortal sin. Of whom I told thee, that they went under the bridge by the way of the devil: and I showed unto thee of their miseries. The third reproof (I showed) should be at the general judgement: where I showed thee somewhat concerning the pains of the damned, and glory of the blessed, when every one shall receive the dowries of his body. In like manner I promised thee, and do promise, that with much sufferance of my ministers I will reform my spouse the Church: inviting you to such sufferance, complaining myself with thee of their iniquity, and showing thee withal, what an excellent place I have put them in, and what reverence I do require, that secular persons should do unto them. And I declared unto thee, that my will was, that their reverence should in no wise be diminished for any defects or excesses, that are in them; and how much it displeaseth me, when the contrary is done. I spoke also to thee of the virtue of those, that live like Angels: Where I touched withal, the excellency and worthnes of the blessed Sacrament of the Altar. Again, while I was speaking to thee of the three states of the soul, thou wert desirous to be informed concerning the states of tears, and to know, from whence tears proceed. Whereupon I declared the matter orderly unto thee, showing, that the states of tears have an accordance with the states of the soul, and that all tears do proceed out of the fountain of the heart. And of this I assigned the cause, proceeding orderly. Moreover I declared, that there were five kinds of tears: of the which the fift engendereth death. Then I made answer to thy fourth request: which was, that I should provide for a certain particular case, that had happened: for the which I provided (as thou knowest very well.) And upon this I declared unto thee, of my providence both in general and in special, from the beginning of the creation, until the end of the world. Where I showed, how I made and do make all things, with a most high and divine providence, giving or permitting all things, to wit, comforts and tribulations, spiritual and temporal, for your good: that you may be sanctified in me, and my truth fulfilled in you. For my truth was and is this, that I have created you to have life everlasting: Which truth is opened to you with the blood of the Word. which is my only begotten Son. Last of all I satisfied thy desire, and discharged my promise made to thee, by declaring unto thee and speaking of the perfection of obedience, and of the imperfection of disobedience: and from whence it cometh, and what thing that is, that taketh obedience from you. And I put it for a general key: and so it is. And I spoke to thee of the particular: and of the perfect and imperfect persons, living both in religion and out of religion. Of each of these points I informed thee plainly and distinctly. I spoke to thee likewise of the peace, that obedience giveth; and of the war, that disobedience causeth: adding and showing withal, how by the disobedience of Adam death came into the world. Now I the everlasting Father, the most high and eternal verity, do conclude openly, that you do obtain everlasting life by the obedience of the Word, to wit, of my only begotten Son. And as all men have taken death and damnation of the first man Adam, so have all men, that will bear the key of obedience, taken life everlasting of the new man jesus Christ my most dearly beloved Son. Of whom I have made you a bridge (after the time, that the way of heaven was broken down) that you may pass without harm by this sweet and straight way (which is a clear and lightsome truth) with the key of wholesome obedience. And so passing without harm through the darkness of this present life, at the last with the key of my Word you find heaven open unto you. Now I invite thee (with the rest of my friends and servants) to weep. for by weeping and by continual and humble prayer I mind to show mercy to the world. Run therefore by this way of truth, that thou be not rebuked afterwards for going slowly, for there shallbe more required of thee now, then before: because I have showed myself unto thee in my truth. And take good heed, that thou never go out of the cell of the knowledge of thyself: but in this cell keep and spend the treasure, that I have given thee: which treasure is a doctrine of truth, founded upon the firm and lively rock jesus Christ my only begotten Son. And this truth is clad with a most goodly and shining light, which dispatcheth darkness. Wherefore clad thyself with truth, my sweet and most dearly beloved daughter.   

A prayer or answer made by a faithful and devout soul to the words of almighty God here before recited.  
Chap. 20.  
THen that devout soul, after that she had seen with the eye of her understanding, and known by the light of faith, the truth and excellency of the virtue of obedience: after that she had felt it with a right sense, and tasted it in her affection with an unspeakable desire: beholding herself in the divine majesty, she gave thanks to almighty God, saying. Thanks be to thee, O eternal Father, because thou hast not despised me thy creature: neither haste thou turned thy face from me, nor made light of my desires. Thou, being the light, didst not look to my darkness. Thou, being life, didst not look to my death. Thou, being the physician, didst not refuse my grievous infirmity. Thou, being the everlasting pureness, didst not despise me, that am full of dirt and infinite miseries. Thou, being endless, didst not reject me, that must have an end. Thou being the most high wisdom, didst regard me, that am a fool: for these and many other evils and infinite defects, that are in me, thou hast not contemned me: thy bountifulness, thy wisdom, thy clemency, thine endless and inestimable goodness hath not despised me. But in thy light thou hast given me light: in thy wisdom I am come to know truth: in thy clemency I have found the love of thee, and charity towards my neighbour. And who hath enforced thee to this? Not any virtue of mine, but only thy fatherly love. This love therefore enforceth thee to illuminate the eye of my understanding with the light of faith, that I may know and understand thy truth, that is opened unto me, Grant me, O Lord, that my memory may be found of sufficient capacity, to receive and keep thy benefits. Let my will burn with the fire of thy most sweet love: let that fire make my body to power out blood given for the love of blood, and so cause me to open the gate of heaven with the key of wholesome obedience. This same request do I also make in most hearty manner for every reasonable creature, both in general and in special: and for the mystical body of our holy mother the Church. I confess, and deny not, that thou hast loved me, before I was: and that thou lovest man so much, that thou art in a sort likened to one, that were ensotted and made a fool with overmuch love. O eternal Godhead, O everlasting Trinity, which through the union of the divine nature hast made the price of the blood of thy only begotten Son to be of so great value. O eternal Trinity, thou art a certain deep sea, in the which the more I seek, the more I find: and the more I find, the more I seek thee. Thou dost after a sort satiate or fill the soul insatiably: for in thy bottomless depth thou dost so satiate the soul, that it remaineth evermore hungry, and longing after thee, O everlasting Trinity, and desirous to see thee, with the light, that is in thy light. Even as the heart longeth after the spring of running water: so doth my soul long to be out of this dark body, and to see thee in truth, as thou art. Oh, how long shall thy face continue hidden from mine eyes? O everlasting Trinity, o fire and bottomless depth of charity, dissolve out of hand the cloud of this my body. For the knowledge, that thou hast given me of thee in thy truth, doth very much enforce me, and cause me to have a passing desire to lay down this heavy ●ompe of my body, and to yield up my life for the honour and glory of thy name: because I have tasted and seen (with the light of understanding in thy light) thy bottomless deapht, o everlasting Trinity, and the beauty of thy creature. Whereupon beholding myself in thee, I saw, that I was thine image: by reason that thou (O eternal Father) hast given me of thy power, & of thy wisdom, and of thine understanding: which wisdom is properly ascribed to thy only begotten Son. And the holy Ghost, which proceedeth from thee the Father & from thy Son, hath given me a will, by the which I am made apt to love. For thou (O eternal Trinity) art the Creator, and I the creature. And therefore I know by the light, that thou hast given me, in the new creation, that thou hast wrought in me by the blood of thy only begotten Son, that thou art enamoured with the beauty of thy creature. O bottomless depth, O everlasting Trinity, O Godhead, O deep Sea: what greater thing couldst thou give me, than thine own self? Thou art the fire, which dost ever burn, and never waste. Thou art the fire, which dost consume with thy heat all self love in a soul. Thou art the fire, which takest away all coldness, and dost illuminate minds with thy light: with the which light thou hast made me to know thy truth. Thou art that light above all light, which givest a supernatural light to the eye of our understanding in such perfection and abundance, that even the light of faith is made more clear by it. In the which faith I see, that my soul hath life: and in this light it receiveth thee that art the light; For in the light of faith I get wisdom, in the wisdom of the word thy Son. In this light of faith I am made strong, and constant, and able to hold out. In this light of faith I conceive a hope, that thou wilt not suffer me to faint in the way. This light teacheth me the way, by the which I must walk: and without this light I should walk in darkness. And therefore I made my petition to thee, O eternal Father, that thou wouldst illuminate me with the light of this most holy faith. Truly this light is a sea, which doth feed the soul in thee the quiet and calm sea, until it be wholly in thee. O calm sea, everlasting Trinity. The water of this sea is not troubled, and therefore it causeth no fear, but giveth the knowledge of truth. This is a most clear water, which showeth things hidden. And therefore where this most goodly shining light of thy faith aboundeth, there is the soul as it were clarified and made bright by the thing that it believeth. This is a second glass, which thou (o everlasting Trinity) dost make me to know. The which, being holden with the hand of love before the eyes of my soul, representeth to me myself in thee, showing, that I am thy creature. And it doth likewise represent thee in me, by reason of the conjunction, which thou hast made, of thy deity with our human nature. In the light of this glass there is represented unto me, & I know thee, the most high and excellent goodness, the goodness that is above all goodness, the happy goodness, the incomprehensible goodness, the inestimable goodness: the beauty, that is above all beauty, the wisdom, that excelleth all wisdom: for thou art wisdom itself. Thou being the food of Angels, with the fire of charity hast given thyself to men. Thou art the garment, that covereth my nakedness. Thou feedest the hungry with thy sweetness: for thou art all sweet, without any manner of bitterness. Wherefore o everlasting Trinity, in the light, that thou hast given me, & I have received, by the means of this light of thy most holy faith (thine own self showing the same unto me by diverse & sundry wonderful declarations) I am come to know the way of great perfection, to the end that from this time forward I should serve thee with light & not with darkness, and be a glass of a good and holy life, and so raise myself up from this miserable life, in the which I have hitherto served thee evermore in darkness: for I knew not thy truth, and therefore I loved it not. But wherefore did I not know thee? Forsooth, because I saw thee not. And wherefore did I not see thee with the light of this most holy and glorious faith? Because the mist of self love had dimmed the eye of mine understanding. But thou (O eternal truth) hast with thy light dissolved my darkness. And who shallbe able to reach to thy height, and yield thee thanks for this passing great gift, and for the manifold and large benefits, that thou hast bestowed upon me, and for the doctrine of truth, that thou hast revealed unto me. The which doctrine is a certain special grace, above the general grace, that thou givest to other creatures. Surely thou wouldst condescend to my necessity, and ro the necessity of other creatures also: which in time to come, looking in it, as in a glass, shall have a desire to behold themselves. Thou therefore, O Lord, answer and satisfy thyself for me. Thou, that art the giver, make satisfaction also for the benefits, that thou hast bestowed upon me: that is, power into me the light of thy grace, that with that light I may yield thee thanks▪ Cloth me, and make me to put on thyself, which art the everlasting truth: that I may run out the course of this mortal life with true obedience, & with the light of a most holy faith: of the which light (me thinketh) thou dost even now make me drunk a new.   

What a sure affiance the holy maid had in the truth of Christ: and how she longed after Martyrdom.  
Chap. 21.  
WHat a great affiance this holy maid had in the goodness of almighty God, and how securely she reposed herself in the infallible truth of his word, it may appear very well by a number of dangers, that she offered herself unto willingly, and with a great courage, when soever occasion was ministered to do any good & charitable work: and namely, when she had to treat with Prlnces and great personages; unto whom she declared the truth of all such things, as she had to utter unto them, with a marvelous freedom, boldness, and wisdom; not looking to their people or dignities, but only to the honour of God. Treating on a time with Pope Gregory the eleventh, concerning the troubles and turmoils, that were then in the Church, and how the same might best be quieted, she was not afraid to tell him his duty in plain terms, and to advertise him in God's behalf, how he ought to rule and feed his flock. Among a number of particular informations and exhortations, that she made unto the Pope's holiness at that time, she spoke these words in the presence of diverse and sundry of his Cardinals and other Prelates. Come, said she, against these false and rebellious children with the meekness of the Cross, and not with the fury of the sword: and so shall you see, that these wolves shall lay down their heads in your laps, and humbly submit themselves unto you. It is not convenient, that the vicar of Christ should fight against his enemies with the temporal sword. And therefore our Saviour Christ rebuked S. Peter, when he struck Malcus, and said: Put thy sword into the scabbard. Thus did she speak at that time to Pope Gregory concerning his pastoral charge: and at an other time concerning the horrible stench of the vices and sin used in the court of Rome (which point was briefly touched before.) And in all this talk, she never showed so much as any little token either of flattery or of fear: but spoke with a marvelous constant and discreet boldness, to the great wonder of as many, as heard her. In like manner, after the decease of Pope Gregory, in the time of Pope Vrbanus the sixth, there was a consultation in Rome, to send the holy maid, and with her an other holy maid (whose name was also Catherine, daughter to S. Bridget of Swe●ia) into Sicilia to queen jone, to see, if they could by their godly persuasions, induce her to cease that wicked and cruel rebellion, that was at that time through her support raised and continued against the Church. But in the end the thing taking no place, because the Pope liked not of it, (no more did that other S. Catherine herself) Doctor Raimundus came to the holy maids chamber, where she kept her bed at that time, and lay in very great pain, and declared to her their final resolution. And, for the satisfying of her mind, he said furthermore, that he thought verily, that it was both the better and also the safer way, that they had taken. For (said he) you are both maidens, and young, and therefore in danger of villainy, if any be offered: if none be, yet at the least of the speech of naughty and slanderous tongues. And you have to deal there with many wicked and cruel hearted men, which, being obstinately bend to continued in their malicious enterprise, and loath to hear any thing to the contrary, will not stick to make you out of the way, in case they see, that you are like to prevail, or do any good in the matter. When the holy maid heard that, she cried out with a great fervour and vehemency of spirit, & said. If S. Agnes, S. Margaret, and other holy Virgins had cast such perils, they had never worn those glorious crowns of martyrdom, that they now wear in heaven. Alas father, why say you so? Have not we our Spouse to accompany us also, even as they had? And is not he able to defend our bodies and lives from all villainy, that shall or may be offered unto us by a number of base and abject men? Surely, surely father, these fearful cogitations are but vain, and do proceed rather of a weak faith and lack of affiance in almighty God, then of true wisdom. At these words Doctor Raimundus was so stricken, that, he held his peace and gave her not one word to answer; For being her Confessor, and thereby understanding perfectly the state of her soul, he knew right well, that such words in her came not of any inordinate heat or passion of the mind, but only of a very perfect and pure zeal, that she had, to the honour of God, and advancement of his Church. The reformation of the which she so much tendered, that many times, when she made her prayers unto God for the same, she would beseech him in most hearty manner, that she might die for it in extremity of pains and torments, and that she might afterwards be restored to life again, and so die again and again, so oftentimes as should be thought sufficient for the obtaining of that blessed reformation, that she so earnestly longed after. Very many times, being in prayer, she would utter these words with a passing great fervour of spirit. O Lord, let all the parts of my body, all my bones, all the marrow within my bones be beaten and pounded together in a mortar: only restore thy holy Church again to her comeliness and beauty. And though the whole state of her life were in deed a very martyrdom, yet had she such a longing and impatient desire to shed her blood for the love she bore to Christ and his Church, that all her words and deeds seemed after a sort to tend to it: as it may appear by a letter, that she wrote to Doctor Raimundus concerning the same matter. In the which it is to be seen, what a passing delight she took in iterating these words again and again: blood, blood: jesus, jesus.   

How the holy maid made a final exhortation to her spiritual children, and so passed out of this life.  
Chap. 22.  
WHen the holy maid understood by revelation from God, that her time drew near, in the which she should pass out of this world: she called all her spiritual children about her both men and women, and to them all in general she made a marvelous godly and excellent sermon, exhorting them to go forward constantly in their purposed way of virtue, until they came to the perfection of the same. And in this sermon she expressed many notable points of doctrine, which I thought good to touch briefly in this place, for the direction of all such, as mind to walk perfectly, and not to err in the straight paths of a true Christian life. The first and most principal point of her doctrine, & (as it were) the groundwork of all her exhortation, was this. To a man, that cometh unfeignedly to the service of God, and mindeth in deed to possess God perfectly, it is necessary, that he do utterly spoil his heart, and make it naked and bare of all sensible love, not only of all people, but also of all creatures, whatsoever they be: and being so spoiled, that he do earnestly bend himself towards God his Creator with a single and whole heart; For the heart (said she) can not be wholly offered up to God, unless it be free from all other love, and withal open and simple without all doubleness. And she declared unto them, that her principal labour & study even from her childhood to her dying day had been, to attain to the perfection of this point.  
Item she said, that no man can possibly come to such state of perfection, as to be able to offer up his heart to God freely and wholly, without any let or encumbrance, unless he seek it at God's hand by prayer. And she said withal, that it is necessarily required in prayer, that it be grounded upon humility; and that the man, that mindeth to obtain any thing by prayer, must have no confidence in any virtue or merit of his own, but only in the goodness of God, reputing himself as nothing in the sight of God. And she added furthermore, that she had been always careful and diligent to give herself to prayer, that she might have a continual habit of the same: because she saw, that of prayer all virtues receive their increase & strength, as contrariwise without prayer all virtues decay & fall quite away. And for this cause she exhorted them to give themselves earnestly & continually to the exercise of prayer. And here she declared unto them, that there were two kinds of prayer, the one called vocal, the other mental: & that these two kinds were to be used, the one at times appointed, in saying or singing the Canonical hours and church-service, the other at all times, either in act, so long as it might be done with discretion, or else in will and desire, when it might no longer be continued actually.  
Item she said, that she saw clearly by the light of a lively faith, that, whatsoever happened to herself or others in this life, came all from God, not of any hatred, that he had to any, but of a passing great love, that he bore to his creatures. And thereof she conceived a certain love and readiness to obey the commandments both of God and also of her superiors: so taking their commandments, as though they had come immediately from the mouth of God, either for the necessity of her salvation, or else for the increase of virtue in her soul.  
Item she said, that, whosoever is desirous to come to a clean and pure state of mind, must of necessity refrain himself from all judging of others, and from speaking vainly of the doings of others, and look only to the will of God in all his creatures, which doth or permitteth all things to a good end. And for this cause she charged them very effectually, that they should never judge any person, that is, they should not by way of judgement despise or condemn any person, though they saw evidently with their eyes some sin committed: but contrariwise, if the sin were manifest, they should have compassion on the party, that had offended, & pray to God for his amendment. And concerning this point she added thus much (not as of herself, but as a most undoubted truth received at Gods own mouth) that many people, for not observing this precept, had failed of their final intended perfection in spiritual life, which otherwise, for a number of excellent virtues, that were in them, might have proved great Saints.  
Item she said, that she had always reposed a very great hope and affiance in the providence of God, and so she exhorted them to do: affirming, that she had tried by experience, that the providence of God was passing great, and never failed them, that put their trust in him. The which thing both she and many other, that kept her company, had seen verified oftentimes by very certain and evident miracles.  
These and many other goodly points of doctrine she uttered unto them: and in the end she concluded her long exhortation with that precept of our Saviour Christ, exhorting them very humbly and withal very earnestly, that they should love one an other. My dear children (said she) love one an other. This saying she repeated again and again after a marvelous sweet and lovely manner: and did, what she could, to make them to understand, that she spoke those words of a very inward affection and great fervour of spirit, to the end that they should the better bear them away, and imprint them the deeper in their hearts. My dear children (said she) love one an other truly and sincerely: for by this you shall show, that you are willing to be my children, and by this I shall take myself to be your mother. If you love one an other, you shall be my crown and glory before God, and I will acknowledge you before him to be my true children, and I willbe a continual intercessor to his divine Majesty for you, that as he hath vouchsafed to endue my soul abundantly with his grace, so he will also power the like abundance of grace into your souls.  
Last of all she commanded them (after a certain charitable manner) that they should keep their desires evermore fervent and burning, and that they should offer up the same before God for the reformation and good state of the Church of God, and of his vicar the Pope: affirming of herself, that she had always kept her heart and desires in such a fervour (especially for the space of seven years before that time) and that she had never omitted (specially in those seven years) to offer up her heart and desires in such sort before the divine Majesty of almighty God. And she confessed plainly, that, for the obtaining of this grace at God's hand, she had sustained many grievous pains and infirmities in her body, and that she did at that very present sustain marvelous great and bitter pains for the same cause. And she added furthermore, that as almighty God had given licence to Satan to torment the body of job, so it seemed also, that he had granted him power to torment and vex her body in such sort, that from the sole of her foot to the top of her head there was no one part without his peculiar pain & torment in her. And as no part was void of his proper pain, so many parts were tormented with diverse & sundry pains together: as it was sensibly perceived of as many, as stood by her at that time, & saw her in that great agony.  
After that she had thus ended her sermon or exhortation, she spoke to them after a more familiar manner, and said. My right dear and heartily beloved, I now see clearly, that my most loving spouse hath so disposed of me, that, when my body hath endured such torments and afflictions as his B. goodness hath granted me, my soul, continuing still in these vehement, fiery, & howeful desires, shall in that state be delivered out of this dark prison, & so return again to his first original & beginning. Those, that stood about her, were marvelously astonished to see her patience & cheerfulness in all her pains: Which, they saw by very evident tokens, were so great & vehement, that, they thought it impossible for her or any other creature to bear them, as she did (without showing so much as any little sigue of sorrow or lamentation) but that she was stayed by some very great & special grace of God. And as they wondered as her patience, so did they make great sorrow and wept very pitifully, to see their good mother in such torments. The which when she perceived, she spoke to them again after a comfortable manner, and said. There is no cause, my dear children, why you should be sorry to see me in these pains: considering, that these pains are the mean to bring me to death, & by death to a better life. But you ought rather, to rejoice with me: to think, that I shall now leave this troublesome place of pain, and go to rest in God that clear & calm sea. Be of good comfort: for I promise you faithfully, that I will stand you in better steed after my passage from hence, then ever I did or might do, so long as I was in this dark life full of miseries. True it is; that I do put my life, my death, & all, in the hands of my dear and everlasting spouse. If he shall think it expedient for any creature of his, that I tarry here still in labour and pain, I am right well contented & glad (for the honour of his name & edifying of my neighbour) to suffer, if it were possible, a hundred deaths and martyrdoms in a day. But if it be his will & pleasure, that I shall pass at this time, and in these torments, be you well assured, that I have at the length with long and instant suit obtained at his hand a very special grace, which is, that it would please him to accept my body, as a sacrifice and  offering for the reformation of his Church.  
After this she called them unto her one by one, and gave them in charge, what order of life every one should take after her decease. Some she appointed to live in religion, some to be hermits, and some to be secular Priests. Over the sisters of Penance she appointed Alexia to be mother. And she willed them all to have recourse to Doctor Raimundus after her death, even as they had had to her in her life time, and to use his direction in all matters. When she had thus disposed of all things particularly by the direction of the holy Ghost, which undoubtedly spoke in her at that time (as it was evidently seen afterwards by the goodly and blessed success of all such things, as she took special order for in that extremity) she asked them all forgiveness, and said. Decrely beloved, though I have been always very desirous of your soul's health (which thing in deed I can not deny) yet I know well, that I have failed in many points: both because I have not been to you such a perfect pattern of spiritual light, virtue, and good works, as a true handmaid and Spouse of Christ might have been: and also because I have not been so diligent and careful about your bodily necessities, as I ought to have been. Wherefore I most humbly and instantly beseech you all, and every one of you, to pardon me: and I exhort you all to hold out in the way of virtue until the end: for in so doing (as I said) you shallbe my joy and crown before God. With that she ceased of her exhortation to them, and called for her ghostly Father, and to him made a general Confession of her whole life: and so received the blessed Sacrament with marvelous great devotion. That done, she required the rest of the Sacraments: which were likewise ministered unto her in due order and time: Last of all, she demanded a full remission or Indulgence, that was granted her before by two Popes, to wit, by Pope Gregory, and Pope Vrbanus.  
After that she had thus prepared herself, she drew on fast towards her end: and being in a very painful and vehement fit, it was well perceived by her words and outward gestures, that she sustained a marvelous sharp & dreadful conflict with the ghostly enemy; For sometimes she held her peace, and sometimes she made answer, as it were, to some demand. Sometimes she smiled, as though she had scorned his reasons: and sometimes she rose in choler. Among other things, one word she spoke, which was noted of as many, as were present; And surely it may well be thought, that it was the will of God, that she should utter it. When she had held her peace a pretty while, at the length, setting a pleasant countenance upon it, she made answer, as it were, to some slander, that the enemy charged her withal, saying. Vain glory? Never: but only the true glory and honour of God. Which words were not spoken without a special providence of God, to remove a sinister opinion conceived of her, not only in the world, but also in many devout and spiritual people, who, seeing her passing sweet and charitable demeanour towards all kinds of men, and withal, how ready and desirous she was, not only to receive, exhort, and comfort all such, as resorted to her at home, but also to travail into far and strange countries, to extend her charity to as many, as was possible, doubted somewhat, that in these things she might either seek the praise of men, or at the least take some delight in it, when she heard herself praised. But Doctor Raimundus, who being her ghostly Father heard her Confession both general and special oftentimes, and considered of all her doings with great wariness and advisement, gave her this testimony with a solemn protestation, that he judged verily and took it upon his conscience, that, whatsoever she did in that kind, she did it by special inspiration and commandment from God, and that she did not so much as think, either upon the praises of men, or upon the men themselves, but only, when she prayed to God for them, or did some other charitable work to the edifying of their souls.  
But now, to come to our matter again, when the holy maid had thus fought a long combat with the ghostly enemy, and had in the end through the grace and assistance of God obtained a full and final victory over him, coming to herself again, she made a general Confession, not Sacramentally, but openly, saying Confiteor (as the manner is) and so required the general absolution to be likewise pronounced over her. That done, it was sensibly perceived, that all the powers of her body decayed forthwith by little and little. The which notwithstanding she ceased not to exhort and speak comfortable words, not only to them, that were there about her, but also to other, that were absent. Among others, she showed herself to have a very special remembrance and care of Doctor Raimundus, unto whom she willed them all to have recourse in all their doubts and distresses for spiritual counsel. Commend me to him, said she, and bid him to be of good comfort, and not to faint or fear, whatsoever betid; For I will be with him, and will from time to time deliver him from all dangers. And if he chance at any time to do otherwise, than he should do, I will give him discipline. These words she repeated again and again, until her speech began at the length to fail her. Last of all, when the very throws of death came upon her, she said these words. Lord, into thy hands I commend my spirit. And with that she gave up the Ghost, in the year of her age. 33. of our Lord. 1380. the 29. day of April (which as then was sunday, and the feast of S. Peter the Martyr) about eight of the clock before noon.    

THE fourth PART.  

How it pleased our Lord to make the holiness of his spouse known to the world, by diverse and sundry evident tokens from heaven; And first, how she spoke certain comfortable words to Doctor Raimundus, after her departure out of this world.  
Chap. 1.  
AT what time the holy maid passed out of this life, doctor Raimundus her confessor chanced to be in the city of Genua, about such a affairs as his office required, being then the provincial of his Order in those parts. And because there was a general chapter appointed to be kept at Bolonia within a few days after for the choosing of a new general: doctor Raimundus with certain other doctors & brethren, made themselves ready to pass by water from thence to Pisa, and so to Bolonia And when they had hired a boat, they tarried for a good wind, which as then did not serve. in that mean time, upon S. Peter's day in the morning (which is a solemn day among the friars preachers: because he was a great martyr, and of their Order) doctor Raimundus went down from his cell to the Church, to say Mass. And when Mass was done, he returned back again to the dorter, to set himself in order towards his journey. Where passing by the image of our lady, he said an ave Maria softly to himself (as the maneris:) and stayed a little while. And suddenly there was framed a strange voice (if it may be called a voice) which expressed very distinctly and plainly certain words, not outwardly to his bodily ear, but inwardly to his heart. The words were these. Be not afraid I am here for thee. I am in heaven for thee. I will protect and defend thee. Stand fast without care, and fear not. I stand here for thee. Doctor Raimundus hearing or rather conceiving those words, (in deed more lively expressed to this mind, then if they had been pronounced by the voice of any man) was much astoined, and began to cast with himself, what manner of comfort and warrant of security that might be, and from whence he might think, that it came. And, because he was then doing a little work in the honour of our blessed Lady, he began to think, whether it might not be she, that had given him those comfortable words. Howbeit, considering his own unworthiness, he durst not presume so much. Then it came to his mind, that there might be some great trouble towards him: for the which cause he prayed to our blessed Lady the mother of mercy (whom he knew to be a special comforter of all afflicted people) that she would vouchsafe, by that her comfortable promise, to make him more wary, circunspecte, and ready to bear whatsoever it should pleased God to lay upon him. And there was some cause also why he might suspect such troubles the more, because he had at that time preached against certain schismatics, that were in the city: of whom he stood in some doubt, that they would have set for him, to do some mischief to him and his company, as they should pass between Genua & Pisa. And so at that time he could not understand, what that voice should be, what it should mean, or whence it should come. But afterwards, when he came to Tuscan and heard them there tell of the time and manner of the holy maids departure, he called this strange voice to mind again, and saw by the computation of the time, that these words were spoken to him at that very hour, when the holy maid passed out of this world to God. Wherefore he gave most hearty thanks, both to our Lord, and also to his blessed spouse S. Catherine, for the great grace and comfort, that they had vouchsafed to send him.   

How it pleased God to give a testimony of her holiness in her life time, by an evident miracle wrought at the tomb of S. Agnes.  
Chap. 2.  
IT was revealed to the holy maid (as she declared secretiy to doct: Raimundus & to doct: Thomas her confessor also) that in the kingdom of heaven she should have the blessed virgin S. Agnes of mount Politian for her companinion, and be placed there in equal degree with her. Whereupon she bore a very special devotion to S. Agnes, and therefore besought her confessors, that they would give her licence to go thither in pilgrimage, with some other of her sisters, to visit the holy relics. Which request they granted with a good will, and went themselves also with her, to see, if almighty God would show any token of his determination, concerning the afore promised fellowship that should be between these two holy virgins. When the holy maid came to the monastery, she went forthwith, (accompanied with the sisters of her own retinue, and most of the nuns of the same monastery also) to the place, where S. Agnes body lay all whole and unperished, even as it was the first day that it was laid there. And coming to the holy shrine, she kneeled down upon the ground, and bowed her head with great reverence and devotion to kiss the feet. But the dead body of S. Agnes, as it were refusing that honour of her companion, lifted up one foot in the presence of them all so high, that she might have kissed it without bowing down either body or head. The which thing when the holy maid saw, she humbled herself the more, & stooped down with greater reverence. And so S. Agnes body drew her leg down again, and set it, as it was before. This miracle it pleased almighty God to work at that time to the honour of those two blessed virgins, in the presence of all the aforesaid sisters of penance, and nuns of the same monastery. And yet there lacked not some one or two among them, that did (what in them lay) to deprave the manner of the miracle. Which turned in the end by the disposition of God, to the further setting out of the same; For the next day, when doctor Raimundus with the rest of his company came thither (which by occasion had stayed behind) hearing by the common brute what a strange work had been wrought there to the honour of God and of the two blessed virgins, and understanding withal, that there was one or two evil disposed women among them, that went about to discredit the matter, saying, that the holy maid had done it by art magic, or otherwise by some sleight of the devil, he called the whole covent of nuns together before him, by virtue of a commission granted to him by the General of that province, and charged them all in the virtue of of their obedience, that they should declare, what they had seen: protesting to them, that his desire was, to understand the very truth of the matter to the glory of God, and no more nor no less, but only the very bare truth. They made him answer one by one, and declared so much as hath been declared here before. Then he called one of them before him, that laboured to impugn the truth of the miracle, and asked her whether the matter had passed in such sort, as the rest had deposed. And she confessed plainly before them all, that it was even so, as they had said. But (said she) S. Agnes did not work that miracle to any such end, as you imagine. To that doctor Raimundus made answer and said. dearly beloved sister, we ask not you, what the meaning of S. Agnes was, because we know, that you are neither her secretary nor yet of her counsel. But we ask of you only, whether you saw that lifting up of the foot, and taking of it down again in such sort, as the rest of your sisters have declared. Yea, said she: that can not be denied. When doctor Raimundus had thus put her to some shame before the whole covent, he enjoined her such penance for her offence as the order of their discipline required, and he thought most expedient for the example of others. another time the holy maid coming to the monastery again, to place two of her brother's daughters there in the service of God, the first thing that she did, she went to visit the holy relics of S. Agnes, as she had done before, And there went with her certain of her own company, and certain of the nuns of the same monastery. When she came to the place, she set herself down, not as she had done before, at the feet, but at the head, with great joy and cheerfulness, and put her cheek to the cheek of S. Agnes, which was covered with a veil of silk, and there held it a good while. After that she had continued so a good long space, at the length she turned herself suddenly back, and spoke to the sisters, that were there present, and namely to her cozen Lisander, after a marvelous joyful and humble manner, saying. Why do you not consider of this great gift of God, that is sent us here from heaven: Wherhfore are you so ungrateful? With that Lisander and the rest held up their heads, and behold, they saw a certain Manna, to wit a very white and small grain, to come down from heaven, and to cover the bodies of those two blessed virgins. And this Manna fell in such abundance, that Lisander filled both her hands of it, and kept it afterwards for a relic and monument, for comfirmation of the truth of this great miracle. The like chanced to the holy virgin S. Agnes oftentimes in her life time, namely when she set herself to prayer and meditation, as we read in the story of her life, which I thought good to touch briefly in this place, for the comfort and satisfaction of such devout people, as are desirous to understand more of her, and yet have not peradventure the whole story written, specially in our tongue. When the blessed virgin S. Agnes should be borne into the world, there were a number of goodly lights seen in the place, where her mother travailed, lighted by the almighty power of God, without any help of man: which continued and yielded a marvelous comfortable light to as many, as were there present, until such time, as the babe was fully borne, and then ceased. By the which our Lord would foreshow, what a goodly and singular light of diverse and sundry virtues she should give in time to come to the world. In her life time, as she grew in years, so did she likewise increase in all kind of virtue, in humility, patience, contempt of the world, and fervour towards religion. The which state of life she tendered so much, that he builded two monasteries of nuns: and in the later of the two, she lived a holy life, and died a blessed death: where it pleased God to work many great and strange miracles by her in her life time, and many more after her death. among other, this was, and is one, that her body continueth still whole and unputrified, even as it was at the very hour of her departure. When she was newly dead, the people in regard of the wonderful signs, that she had wrought among them in her life, thought to have preserved her body with balm. But when they came to the body, they saw that it was needles: forsomuch as there distilled a very sweet and precious liquor out at the ends of her fingers & toes, that passed all balm; which was diligently gathered by them, and put in a viol: in the which it is kept to this day, and at times showed to the people for a perpetual remembrance of this great miracle. The night that she died, the young babes, that lay in bed with their fathers and mothers, cried out and said. Sister Agnes is now departed: and she is a Saint in heaven. And the next morning a great company of young children by the instinct of God gathered themselves together (and would admit none into their company, that was not a maid) and set themselves in order after the manner of a procession, and so went with candles burning in their hands to the monastery, where they offered them up at the body of the blessed virgin, even as we are wont to do at the monuments of Saints. These and many other miracles were wrought by almighty God in the honour of S. Agnes: which caused the people of the country to have her relics in great price and reverence.   

How the holy maid in her life time healed many, that were sick of the plague.  
Chp. 3.  
ABout the year of our Lord 1373. there was a great plague in the city of Sienna: of the which many men and women of all conditions and ages died very soon, after they were once taken; some within one day, some within two, and few or none passed the third day: which mortality caused a great terror among the people. Doctor Raimundus chanced to be in the city, at that time, reader of the divinity lesson in his covent: who, being a charitable man, & tendering more the health of souls, than the preservation of his own body, (as his profession and rule required) he took great pains, and went by day and by night to the houses, where he might understand any to be sick, to visit, comfort, and counsel them for their soul's health. And many times when he was weary of running thus to and fro, he used to turn a little aside into an house or hospital called, Our lady of mercy, and there to repose himself a while, partly for rerecreation both of body and soul, and partly also to speak with Master Matthew the rector of the said house: whom he loved entirely for virtues sake, and resorted unto him commonly once in the day (and so did the holy maid also very often) sometimes to confer with him of spiritual matters, and sometimes to ask either his advise or charity towards the relief of the poor. On a day doctor Raimundus, going to visit the sick after his accustomed manner, and passing by the gate of this house, went familiarly, to see, how Master Matthew did with the rest of his family. When he was entered, he saw the brethren and clerk busily occupied in carrying Master Matthew from the Church towards his chamber: With that he asked him cheerfully, how he did. But Master Matthew was so feeble and so far spent, that he could not give him one word to answer. Then he asked them that were about him, how that sickness came to him. And they made answer, that he had watched that night with one that was sick of the plague, and about midnight took the sickness of him: since the which time, said they, he hath remained (as ye see) without colour, without strength, without spirit. When they had brought him to his chamber, they laid him down vopn his bed. Where when he had rested a little while, he came to himself again, & called for doctor Raimundus, and made his confession to him, as he was wont often times to do. That done doctor Raimundus spoke to him comfortably. M. Matthew, said he, how feel ye yourself? where is your pain? My grief, said he, is in my flank, and it paineth me so sore, that, me thinketh, my thigh is ready to break in sunder. And I have withal such a vehement headache, that it seemeth, as though my head would cleave in four parts. With that he felt his pulses, and found in deed, that he had a very sharp fever. Whereupon he caused them to carry his urine to a learned physician, that was in the city, called master Sensus; and soon after went himself to understand his resolution and advise in the matter. When he came, the physician declared unto him, that he saw in the water, very evident tokens of an ague pestilential, and also of death near at hand: for, said he, this water showeth plainly to me, certain bubbling or boiling of the blood out of the liver: which is the common disease, that reigneth now over all the city. Wherefore I am very sorry, for I see, we are like to lose a very dear friend, and they of his house a very good rector. What, said doctor Raimundus, is it not possible by your art, to devise some kind of medicine, that may do him good? We will see to morrow, said he, whether we can purge that blood with Cassia Fistula: but, (to tell you truly) I have small hope of doing any good. The disease is to far gone. When doctor Raimundus heard those uncomfortable words, he returned towards the sick man again with a heavy heart. In this mean time it came to the ears of the holy maid, that master Matthew was dangerously sick, and of the plague. When she heard that, she was troubled in spirit, as it were against that evil (for she knew him to be a very virtuous man, and therefore loved him very entirely) and forthwith went in great haste towards his house. And before she came at him, she cried out with a loud voice saying. Master Matthew rise, rise up master Matthew. It is no time to lie now slugging in your bed. At that word, and at that very instant, the pain in his slancke and headache, and the whole disease forsook him quite, and he rose up as merry and as sound in all his body, as if there had never been any such disease upon him. And when he was ready, he honoured the the holy maid, and gave her most humble thanks, saying, that he knew now by experience in his own body, that the power of God dwelled in her, and wrought strange things by her. But she might not abide to hear any words, that tended to her own commendation, and therefore she went away. As she was going out, doctor Raimundus came towards the house, and met with her in the gate, looking very heavily of the matter: (for he knew nothing of all this, that was done in the house, but came directly from the physician. When he saw her there, being as it were overcome with sorrow he said to her. O mother, will you suffer this good man, that is so dear to us, so profitable and necessary to mànie others, to die after this sort? To that she made answer very humbly, showing in deed, that she had no liking in such words. O Father said she, what manner of talk is this, that you use to me? Take ye me to be a God that you would have me to deliver a mortal man from death? I pray you, said he, speak these words to some other, that is a stranger to you, and not to me, that know your secrets. I know right well, that, whatsoever you ask of God heartily, he will grant it you. With that she bowed down her head a little, & smiled: and after a time, looking up to him again cheerfully, she said these words. Father, be of good cheer: for he shall not die at this tyme. When doctor, Raimundus heard those words, he was a glad man, for he knew well, what grace and prerogative was given to her from above. And so he went into the house to comfort his friend, not knowing in deed, that he had no need of it, but supposing, that the thing had been yet to do, that was already done. When he came in, he found him sitting up in good health and liking, declaring unto them, that were about him, the manner of the miracle, that was wrought upon himself. For the further confirmation whereof, the table was laid, and they eat together that morning, not such meats, as sick men use to eat, but raw oynions and such other gross meats, as can not be digested, but only in whole stomachs. And as they were eating, they took great pleasure to recite the wonderful things, that it pleased God to work by the holy maid. In the time, while this contagious disease rained in Sienna, it chanced a certain Hermit called Sanctus, that lived in an Hermitage a little without the city, to be infected with the same. The which thing when the holy maid understood, she caused him to be taken out of his cell, and brought to this afore mentioned hospital of our Lady of mercy. Where she came to him with certain other of her sisters, & tended him, providing for him, all such things, as she thought necessary or requisite for a man in that case. And to comfort him with words also, she put her head to his, and whispered him softly in the ear, saying. Be not afraid, howsoever ye feel yourself: for ye shall not die at this tyme. But to the rest that were there, she said no such thing but rather, when they entreated her, that she would pray to God for his recovery, she gave them but an uncomfortable answer: which made them very sad, for they all knew him to be a holy man, and therefore both honoured and loved him very tenderly. The disease increased hourly more and more, and he decayed so sensibly, that they, despairing his life, gave over the charge of his body, and looked only to the health of his soul. At the length, when he was in extremes, & they all stood about him with great heaviness, looking only when he would give up the ghost: the holy maid came to him again, and said in his ear. Be not afraid, for ye shall not die at this time. The sick man both heard & understood that word. (though before it seemed, that he was past all sense.) And he took comfort in it, rather crediting the word of the holy maid, that sounded in his ear, than the throws of death, that gripped him by the heart. Howbeit he showed no token of amendment: and therefore they not understanding, what she had said, provided lights and other things necessary for his burial, looking still, when he would departed out of this life. And in this hourly expectation of death, they continued certain days (longer in deed, than men are wont to live, that are sick of that disease.) At the length when it seemed, that he was even passing out of the world, the holy maid came to him again, and spoke these words in his ear. I command thee in the name of our Lord jesus Christ, that thou pass not at this tyme. At that word he took comfort of spirit and strength of body, and rose up in his bed, and called for meat: and, in the presence of them all eat his meat with good appetite, and received perfect health, and lived after many years: and was one of them, that were present with the holy maid in Rome, when she departed out of this world. And he declared afterwards what words the holy maid spoke in his ear, & how by the virtue of the same his soul, that was upon the very point of departing out of his body, was mightily retained: adding furthermore that he esteemed the miracle, that was wrought upon himself, to be no less, then if she had raised him up again from death to life: and that without all doubt it was no natural cause that had restored him again, but only the almighty power of God, working by the means of that holy maid. During this time of pestilence in the city of Sienna, it pleased God to work an other miraculous cure by the means of the holy maid upon Doct: Raimundus her own ghostly father, after this manner. The plague increased so sore; and the inhabitants fled so fast for fear of infection (not only the citizens, but also the priests and religious people) that many souls remained without comfort or counsel. But doct: Raimundus tarried still in the city & would not remove, but determined with himself, that he would visit & help as many, as he could possibly. The which charitable purpose being once knoven, he was so much called upon & to earnestly entreated to come now to one house and now to an other: (because there were few or none to help him) that he had scantly leisure to eat his meat or to take his rest. One night, when he had rested on his bed, & thought to have risen up after his accustomed manner to say his service, he felt a very great pain in his flank. And feeling with his hand, he found, that there was a great sweelling in the place: (which made him sore afraid.) For experience had taught him, that the disease begun commonly after that manner. Wherefore he lay still in his bed, & durst not rise, but began to think of death: evermore wishing, that it had been day, that he might have gone and spoken with the holy maid before the disease had taken full place in him. In the mean time the ague came upon him, and withal a great hedach which tormented him very sore, and were (as he knew) undoubted signs of the common infection, that reigned over the city at that tyme. The which notwithstanding, he did, what he could, to make an end of his divine service. In the morning, calling a fellow to him, he went with great pain towards the holy maids house,: whether, when he came, he found her not at home, For she was gone out, to visit an other, that was sick. Then, being no longer able to hold up his head, he laid himself down upon a couch, that was there in her house: & prayed the sisters, that they would send for her with all speed. When the holy maid came home, and found him there, and understood in what case he was: she kneeled down by the bed, and, laying her hand upon his forehead, she began after her manner to lift up her heart to God in prayer. And forthwith he saw, that she was quite abstracted from her bodily senses & ravished in spirit. Which was no unwonted sight to him, nor yet uncomfortable, (at that tyme.) For he hoped well, that she should obtain some great benefit for him, both of body and soul at God's hand. When she had continued after that manner about the space of half an hour, he felt in himself a mighty alteration and stirring in every part of his body, and withal a vehement provocation towards a vomit: which he had seen to happen before, to many, that had died of that disease. How beit it fell not so out with him, but rather contrariwise; For it seemed to him, that he felt sensibly▪ how those corrupt humours, that caused his pain, were violently drawn from within, to the uttermost parts of the body. And certain he was, that he found present ease of his pains. And before the holy maid came to herself again, he was fully and perfectly restored to his health: saving only that there remained a little feebleness in him, which (he thought) our Lord suffered to remain in him, as a token either of the disease, that was cured, or else of the weakness of his faith. So soon as the holy maid had obtained this grace at God's hand for her ghostly father, she was forthwith restored to her bodily senses. And, finding him as yet in some weakness, she willed her sisters to provide some meat for him such as is wont to be given to sick folks. The which when he had received at her holy hand, she willed him to lie down and rest a while: and so he did. And when he had rested a little time, he rose up and felt himself as strong and in as good liking, as if he had never been sick. Then said the holy maid to him. Father, go your way, and labour about the edifying of souls, and be thankful to almighty God, that hath delivered you out of this present danger. The like miracle did the holy maid work about the same time upon father Bartilmewe, of whom mention hath been made diverse and sundry times before. The miracle was much alike: but the cure seemed somewhat greater, biause he was both longer and also more grievously sick.   

How the holy maid healed a great number, that were sick of other diseases, after the like manner.  
Chap. 4.  
AFter the time, that this pestilence was ceased in Sienna, it chanced that many devout and well disposed people, as well religious as others, but specially certain Nuns of Pisa, hearing the fame of the holy maid had a great desire to see her, and to hear her doctrine, which was reported to be (and was in deed) very wonderful. And because it was not lawful for many of them that had this godly inclination, to come to her to Sienna, they sent letters and messengets to her very often, beseeching her, that she would take the pains to come over to them to Pisa. And, to allure her the more to take that journey upon her, they declared unto her, what fruit and gain of souls was like to ensue by her coming thither. The holy maid, though she had no desire to be from home, yet being overcome with their long & importunate suit, especially considering, that there was great hope of winning souls to God, first she asked the advise of them, that lived in house with her: of the which company some were with her going to Pisa, and some against it. Then, when she saw, that she could not be resolved by men, she fled unto almighty God (as her manner was) and besought him humbly, that he would vouchsafe to make her to understand what his will and pleasure was, that she should do in that case. And it came to pass after certain days, that our Lord appeared to her, and willed her, that she should accomplish the godly request of those his servants & hand maids in Pisa without delay. Whereupon she went to her ghostelie father, and declaring thus much to him, besought him like an obedient daughter, that he would give her licence to do, as she was willed by God. He assented willingly to her demand, and went himself with her, and with him two other of his brethren, to hear the confessions of such, as should resort unto her, according to a grant made to her by Pope Gregory the eleventh. When she came to Pisa, she lodged in the house of an honest citizen called master Gerardus, where on a day, there was presented unto her, a certain young man of the age of twenty years or there about, which had been sore vexed with a quotidian ague for the space of a year and half, and never miss one day. And though there were no fit of an ague upon him at that time, yet might she see, that he had been long sick. For, whereas he was by constitution of body a very strong and lusty young man, he was now brought so low, that he had neither flesh, strength, nor colour. And no medicine could be found, that would do him good. Wherefore they entreated the holy maid, that she would commend his lamentable state to God in her prayer. The holy maid pitied his case very much, and asked him, how long it was, sense he was last confessed. To that he answered and said, that it was a good many years. Yea, said she; and that is the cause, why our Lord hath laid this discipline upon you, because ye would not cleanse your soul in all this time by confession. Wherefore, dear son, see that ye go out of hand to confession, and rid yourself of these sins, that have infected you, both body and soul. With that she caused Doctor Thomas her own confessor to be called, and delivered the young man to him, willing him to hear his confession. That done, the young man returned to her again: and she laid her hand upon his shoulder, and said these words. Son, go your way with the peace of our Lord jesus Christ: For I will not, that these agues trouble you any more. She said, and it was done: for the almighty power of him spoke in her, who said, and it was done, who gave commandment, and all things visible and invisible were created. This strange miracle was wrought before so many witnesses, that it was in a very little time bruited throughout the whole city. And the young man himself, that was cured, within a few days after, came to Doctor Raimundus, as he was passing by the city, (so fat and in such good liking, that the Doctor did scantly know him) and before a great multitude of men and women recited the whole manner of the miracle, as it hath been declared here before: and thanked God and the holy maid most humbly, for the benefit of his health, which, he confessed, he had received perfectly at God's hands, by her means and intercession.  
One of the sisters of penance called Gemina, being so extremely pained with a disease of the throat, commonly called the Squynancie, that, so often as she took breath, it seemed, that she was in great danger of strangling, found the means to be brought, where the holy maid was, and besought her of help. The holy maid, being moved with compassion, laid her hand upon the sister's throat, and made the sign of the Cross upon it: and forth with the disease left her, and she returned home again with great joy. When the holy maid went from Pisa to Avignon, there were in her company two devout young men, that wrote her letters, the one called Nerius Landoccius de Pagliar ensibus, which afterwards forsook the world utterly & became an Eremite, the other Steven Corradi, which likewise gave over the world at her commandment, and became a Christian: in the which rule & discipline he lead a very straight & holy life. Now, when the holy maid returned from Avignon into Italy again, and was come to the city of Genua, it chanced this Nerius to be taken with such a painful gnawing and grieping in his bowels, that he cried pitifully, and crope upon his hands and knees from place to place (for he was not able to raise up himself) and could find no place, where to rest And thus he continued day and night, without any release in extreme pain, and made great lamentation to the rest of the company, which loved him all very tenderly. Whereupon doctor Raimundus with other of them went to the holy maid, and told her, in what a lamentble case the poor man stood. She showed, that she had great compassion on him: but she gave them no word of comfort or hope of recovery (as she was wont to do at other times but) contrariwise willed them to seek to the physicians, and cause them to minister to the sickman. When they saw, that the would put them in no manner of comfort, they sent out of hand for two learned physicians: which came and ministered to him with great diligence: and their precptes were observed very precisely. But the man recovered not, but ratherwaked worse & worse, in so much that, at the length the physicians themselves said to doctor Raimundus that they despaired of his health. The which judgement of the physicians when doctor Raimundus declared afterwards to the rest of the company as he was sitting with them at supper: that other young man called Steven (of whom mention is made before) rose up suddenly from the table with great fervour and vehemency of spirit, and went to the holy maid's chamber, and there casting himself down at her feet wept bitterly, and besought her in most humble manner, that she would not suffer his brother & companion to die in the way, and his body to be buried in a strange land, especially considering, that he had taken that journey upon him for God's sake and for a charitable cause. With those words she was inwardly touched, and said, unto him, Son if God will now take your brother Nerius from you, & reward him for all his pains in heaven, me thinketh, ye should not be sorry for it, but rather rejoice. O good mother, said he, I pray you, hear me at this time, and help him, for I doubt not, but that you are able to do it, if you will. Then she being no longer able to refrain her motherly affection, spoke thus unto him. Son, my meaning was to exhort you, that you should comforme your will to the will of God. But now, seeing you are so much afflicted, to morrow in the morning, when I go to hear Mass and to receive the blessed Sacrament, put me in mind and I promise you, that I will offer up your petition unto God. In the mean time pray you to God for me, that it may please him to hear my prayer. Steven was glad of that promise, and the next day he waited diligently for her. And when she went to hear Mass, he kneeled down before her very humbly, and said. I pray you, good mother, remember your promise made to me yester night. With that she went to hear Mass, and after Mass received. And when she had received, she continued a certain time abstracted from her bodily senses (as her manner was.) So soon as she came to herself again, she spoke to Steven (who attended there) with a cheerful countenance, and said. Ye have obtained the grace, that ye desire. What, said he, shall Nerius recover? Yea, said she, for certain Nerius shall recover: for our Lord hath granted him unto us. When Steven heard that, he ran to Nerius, and told him, what comfortable words the holy maid had spoken. After that the physicians came again to the sick man, and, considering diligently of the state of his body, pronounced plainly, that they saw no hope of life in him. But whatsoever they saw in natural causes, Nerius was by the almighty power of God restored to perfect health within a few days, even as the holy maid had said. Soon after the recovery of this man, it chanced the same Steven to fall sick also, being (as it was thought) overcharged with watching and pains, that he had taken, about the said Nerius. He was sore pained with streyning and vomiting, and withal with a passing great head ache. The which thing, when it was signified to the holy maid by the rest of the house (who were all very sorry for him) she went forthwith to his bed's side, where he lay, and asked him, how he did, and felt his pulses. Whereby she perceived well, that he had a very sharp fever. Then she spoke to him with great fervour of spirit, and said these words. I command thee in the virtue of holy obedience, that thou be no more sick of this ague. She had no sooner spoken those words, but that Steven was fully and perfectly delivered of his ague, and sat up, and made merry with the rest of his company: and they all together praised the goodness of God, that had given such power to the holy maid.  
At what time the holy maid was in the city of Florence about a treaty of peace between Pope Gregory the eleventh and the Florentines, there was such a broil stirred in the city, by certain evil disposed and seditious citizens against the holy maid, that her friends, doubting and fearing her life, counselled her to departed. But she made them answer, that she had an express commandment from God, not to departed, until the peace were fully agreed upon, and openly published in the said city. Howbeit she was contented a little to give place to the fury of the people, and to withdraw herself into a secret place not far from the city, & there to remain for a time, until the tempest were somewhat assuaged. Now, as she was preparing herself to his voyage, & in a manner ready to set forward, one of her sisters called jone fell sick. Her foot was swollen very much (of what cause, no man knew:) he pain & anguish whereof was so great, that it cast her into an ague also. By reason whereof she was not in state to take that journey with the rest of her company. When the holy maid understood of her sickness, being unwilling to leave her there behind (because she was many ways subject to the fury and malice of naughty men) she fled to her accustomed refuge of prayer, & besought almighty God of his infinity mercy, that he would provide for the indennitie of her sister. God heard the petition of his spouse; For all the while that she continued thus in prayer, that other sister slept sloundely. Out of the which sleep so soon as she awaked, she found herself in as perfect health & strength, as if she had never been sick. And so she rose up, & set herself in order, & went the same morning with the maid and the rest of the company so nimbly, that they were all astoined to see it.  
When Pope Greg. had resolved to remove out of France unto the city of Rome again, the holy maid likewise with doctor Raimundus & the rest of her retinue, departed from avinion towards Italy. And passing through the province they came to a city called Tolonne: where when: they had taken up their Inn, the holy maid, to avoid the press of the people, which flocked marvelously about her in all places to do her honour, left her company, and (as her manner was) conveyed herself as secretly, as was possible, to an inner chamber. And her whole company; knowing how troublesome such resort had been to her at at other times, did, what they could to provide, that few or none should know of her being there. But as they used all diligence to keep the matter secret, so it seemed, that the very stones of the street cried out, and be wraied her to the people: for she was no sooner in her chamber, but that they came to the house from all parts of the city flocking in great numbers, first of women, and then of men, and asked where that holy Lady was, that came from the court of Rome. At the length, when Doct: Raimundus & the rest saw, that the matter could no longer be hidden, being overcome with the importunate pressing of the people, they were contented to admit the women only. Among whom there was one, that had a young infant so strangely swollen, especially in the belly, that it seemed rather a monster, than a child; for the which infant, the women besought the holy maid, that she would vouchsafe to take it into her arms, she refused it at the first for humilities sake: but afterwards, being overcome with pity and seeing their faith, she yielded unto them. So soon as the child was in her arms, it began to let out out great store of wind, and with that (in the presence of all that multitude) the swelling of his belly and whole body assuaged: and she gave it again to the mother in perfect health and shape of body. The fame of this miracle being spread throughout the city, it came to the ears of the bishop: Who sent out of hand for Doctor Raimundus, and desired him, that he would be a mean to the holy maid, that he might speak with her: and told him withal, that the child, upon whom this great miracle was wrought, was nephew to his vicar generale. She came with doctor Raimundus and certain of her sisters, and spoke with the bishop: and he found himself marvelously well edified by her talk and behaviour. Many other miracles did the holy maid work to the benefit and health of men's bodies. But these may suffice, to declare, that the power of God dwelled in her, which was the principal worker of all these things.   

How the holy maid made good bread of fusty and stinking corn: and how she multiplied the same.  
Chap. 5.  
Because the order of justice requireth, that such as show themselves perfectly obedient to God, should be obeyed of all his creatures: our Lord, to declare to the wordie, that the obedience of his spouse was very perfect towards him, caused his creatures likewise to show their obedience towards her. At the time, while the holy maid lived in Sienna, it chanced, that a young widow called Alexia (of whom mention hath been made oftentimes before in this book) bore such a singular affection to her, that it seemed, she could not almost live without her; For the which cause she gave over the world, & took the habit upon her, which the holy maid ware: and forsaking her own house, took an house near unto the place, where the holy maid dwelled, that she might resort unto her more commodiously & continue longer time in her company. And the holy maid likewise, to avoid the distractions of her father's house, and to retire herself more closely to prayer and contemplation, would go to the house of Alexia, and there continue with her, sometimes whole days, sometimes whole weeks, yea and sometimes whole months. At that time, it chanced one year to be such a scarcity of corn in the city & country, that the people were constrained to eat bread, made of fusty and stinking corn, that had been kept long time under the ground in cisterns & caves: because there was none other to be gotten for money. Of such corn had Alexia made provision for herself and her family for that year. But before her store was spent, the harvest time was come, and she heard tell, that there was new corn to be sold in the market; whereupon she thought to cast away that little portion, that was left of the stinking corn, and buy new, But before she did it, the holy maid being in house with her, she chanced to break her mind to her, and to tell her, what she was about to do. What will ye do, said she? Will you cast that away, that God hath sent for the sustenance of man? If you will not eat of that bread yourself: yet bestow it upon the poor, that have no bread to eat. To that Alexia replied and said, that she had a conscience to give such stinking & unwholesome bread to the poor: she would rather buy new corn, and make them bread of that. Well, said the holy maid, bring me here a little warer, and that meal, which you mind to cast away: and I will make bread of it for the poor. Alexia did, as she was willed. Then the holy maid took it of her, and made passed of it: and of the past made such a deal of bred (and that also so quickly) that Alexia & her servant, that beheld her all the time, were astoined to see it: for they thought verily, that there could not have been made so many loaves of four or five times so much meal, as the holy maid delivered out of her hands to Alexia, to lay upon boards and carry to the oven. And (which was most marvelous) there was no evil savour in those loaves, as there was in all other made of the same corn. But when they were baked, and set on the table to eat, they that eat of them, could find no manner of bitterness or evil taste in them but rather said, that they had not in their life time, eaten better and more savoury bread. This miracle being spread in the city, doctor Thomas her confessor came, with certain other learned men of his brethren, to examine the matter: and found in very deed, that there were two great miracles wrought, one in augmenting the quantity of the past, and an other in amending the evil quality and stench of the corn. And the third miracle was added soon after: which was, that whereas the same bread was very liberally dealt out to the poor, and none other eaten in the house but that, yet there remained evermore great store of it in the hutch. And so it continued many days and weeks. Which moved certain devout people, that understood the truth of the matter, to take some of the said bread, and to lay it up reverently, where it might be kept for a relic and perpetual remembrance of the great work, that almighty God had wrought by his dear spouse. After wards, Doctor Raimundus being desirous to be more particularly informed of the matter by the holy maid, prayed her one a time in secret talk, that she would declare unto him for his satisfaction, how, and in what order the thing had passed. And she made him answer simply after this manner. Father, said she, I had a great zeal, that the thing, that God had sent us for the relief of man, should not be lost. And I had withal a great compassion on the poor. Whereupon I went to the hutch of meal with a great fervour of spirit. So soon as I was there, behold, our blessed Lady was there likewise with me, accompanied with a number of Saints and Angels, and bade me to go forward with my work, as I had determined. And she was so benign and charitable, that she vouchsafed to labour with me, and to work the past with her own hands: and so by the virtue of her holy hands were those loaves multiplied in such sort, as ye have heard, for she made the loaves and gave them to me: and I delivered them from me to Alexia and her servant. Truly mother, said doctor Raimundus, I marvel not now, if that bread seemed to me and others, that tasted of it, passing sweet: considering, that it was made with the hands of that most heavenly & glorious Queen, in whose sacred body was wrought and made by the holy Trinity, that live bread that came down from heaven, to give life to all true believers.   

How the holy maid multiplied bread an other time in Rome for the provision of her family.  
Chap. 6.  
AT what time the holy maid came to Rome by commandment of Pope Vrbanus the sixth, she had in her company to the number of four and twenty people, to wit, sixteen men and eight women. Which followed her almost against her will: some to visit the holy places in Rome, and some to get certain spiritual graces of the Pope's holiness, but all, as her ghostly children, to be trained by her in the rules of spiritual life. Besides these, there came to the city at that time a number of good and godly men: which, because they were sent for by the Pope at the holy maids motion & instance, resorted unto her, and lodged in her house. And though she neither had, nor would have any thing for the relief of herself and all her family, but only what she received of pure alms: yet was she so liberal and free of heart, & had such a love to hospitality, that she made no difference between receiving one man and one hundred: for she doubted not, but had a full trust and affiance in God, that he would provide for them all. For the better performance whereof, she took this order among her women, that they should be stewards in the house by course one after an other every week; so that one of them was evermore occupied about the provision of meat, drink, & other things; that the rest might the more freely intent their pilgrimages & other holy exercises, for the which they were come to the city. And because the bread, that they eat, was all of alms, she gave them charge, that whosoever was steward for the week, should always signify to her a day before the bread was all spent; that she might send some other of the sisters, or go herself to beg more. One time it chanced, that one of the sisters called jone, being steward in her course, lacked bread, and yet forgot to signify so much to the holy maid, until the very hour of dinner was come Then remembering herself, and being ashamed of her negligence, she went to the holy maid with a heavy cheer, & confessed her fault. Ah sister, said she, God forgive you. Wherefore have you brought us to this distress, contrary to the order, that I gave you? Behold our family is now very hungry they have fasted long. And where shall we find so much bread of a sudden, as may suffice them all? To that sister jone could say nothing else but only acknowledged her forgetfulness, and cried her mercy. Well, said the holy maid: cause them to sit down at the table. Alas, said she, there is not bread enough for four people. whatsoever there is (said the holy maid) will them to go to dinner, and to begin with that little, that is, until God send more. And with that she went herself to prayer. Then sister jone? according as she was commanded, caused them to sit down, and set that small provision, that was, of bread and other things before them. They fell to their meat gridily, (for they used to fast very much, & that day they had tarried for their dinner longer, than they were wont to do) and thought in deed, that they should soon dispatch that short pitance. But our Lord at the instance of the holy maid so wrought in that bread, that they cut sops into their pottage, and eat every man so much as sufficed: and yet was the bread nothing diminished, but rather increased. Whereat when they were all astoined, they asked what the holy maid was in doing. And understanding that she was earnestly occupied in prayer, they concluded all with one voice (which were in number sixteen people) that it was her prayer that had procured that increase from heaven; for, said they, ye see that we are all satisfied, and the bread, that was set before us, is not less but rather more than it was at the beginning. And when their table was taken up, there remained so much bread, as sufficed the sisters abundantly: and after them the holy maid commanded the rest to be given out to the poor, which was also a plentiful alms.  
The like happened the same year and in the same house, in the lent time by the like default of an other of the sisters, called Francis.   

How the holy maid wrought the like miracle in the covent of the Friars preacheers in Sienna after her departure out of this world.  
Chap. 7.  
THe holy maid died in the city of Rome (as it is said before:) from whence her head was sent afterwards to Sienna, and received, but not with such honour, as was thought meet and answerable to the holy life, that she had lead in that place. Whereof Doctor Raimundus having some remorse of conscience, and being moved also (as it was thought) by God, was in hand with his brethren, that they should appoint some day, when that precious relic might be brought (as from some other place) by the whole covent and the rest of her spiritual sons and daughters, with hymns and psalms, and other solemnities, such as were common to the Saints in heaven: for as yet it was not lawful to sing any particular service in the honour of her, because she was not canonised. Which being agreed upon, he went and invited all her spiritual children, that were abroad, to come at the day appointed, and to honour their good mother, every one in the best manner, that he could devise. And withal he entreated them, to take a part of their pitance that day with the covent. When this solemnity was ended, and the time come, that they should go to dinner, the brother, that had the charge of the buttery, came to the prior with a heavy countenance, and told him, that there was not bread enough in the house, to suffice the one half of the covent, and much less to suffice the strangers also, that were invited: which were to the number of twenty people. When the prior heard that, he went first into the buttery to see the provision. And when he saw, that it was so in deed: he sent that brother, with Doctor Thomas the holy maids foremer ghostly Father, to certain of their special friends houses, to make a sufficient provision of bread for the whole company. But those men tarried somewhat longer, than it was thought they would have done. Wherefore the prior having consideration of his strangers, caused them to sit down, and set before them so many loaves of bread, that there remained for the covent but only so much, as, they thought, would have been a competent portion for four or siue men. At the length, when the prior saw, that they came not away, he willed the covent to sit down also, and to begin with that little, until more came. They did so, and eat their meat. And though those two brethren came not at all with any new provision, yet was their bread so much increased (undoubtedly by the merits of the holy maid) that the whole covent, which were to the number of fifty people, was abundantly satisfied, both at the first and second dinner. And after all was done, they gathered up a great quantity of bread, which was also reserved till an other time. When the covent dinner was done, the prior with certain of his brethren went to the place, where the strangers sat, & Doctor Raimundus with them. (Who was still sitting at the table with them, and making a sermon or collation in the praise of the holy maid.) Which sermon the prior interrupted, and told them, what a wonderful work it had pleased God to work that day in the covent, When doctor Raimundus heard that, he turned himself again to the company, and said these words. Surely, surely our good mother showeth, that she liketh well of the service and honour, that we have done her this day, in that she feedeth us with bread by miracle: which was in deed a common thing with her, while she lived. And in this she showeth also, that she is the true daughter of our blessed father S. Dominicke: of whom we read in the story of his, life, that twice in his life time he wrought the like miracle in multiplying of bread.   

How almighty God caused wine to be found in an empty vessel to the use of the holy maid: and how he caused the same to cease again at her instance.  
Chap 8.  
IN the year of our Lord. 1375. the holy maid went to the city of Pisa, and lodged in a worshipful citizens house called master Gerard Bonconties. Where, by reason of a great abstraction, that she had from her bodily senses, she was brought to such an extreme feebleness, that it seemed, she was at the very point of death. Wherefore doctor Raimundus, fearing her present departure out of his world, began to cast with himself, if it were possible to devise any thing, that might somewhat refresh or comfort her body in that case Flesh, eggs, and wine, he knew well. she might not abide: and much less, electuaries, or any other the like confortatives, that were made of sweet things, Wherefore he came to her, and prayed her, that she would suffer them at the least to put a little sugar into the cold water, that she drunk. To that she answered quickly, and said. Alas father, that little life, that is left in my body, ye go about to quench utterly, for ye know, that all sweet things are become very hurtful and deadly to me. Then Doctor Raimundus and the said master Gerard, in whose house she lay, began to devise carefully, what thing they might do to relieve and comfort her, if it were possible. And it came to their minds, (which they had seen oftentimes proved in the like cases) that when a sick person was not able to receive any sustenance inwardly, it was good to take red wine, and with the same to wash the temples and pulses of his hand-wrestes. Whereupon master Gerard sent to one of his neighbours, which was wont evermore to have one vessel of that wine, and prayed him, that he would be so good, as to send him a bottle of it. The neighbour, when he understood master Gerardes' request, and withal the extreme feebleness of the holy maid, made answer to the messenger, and said. Truly friend, I could find in my heart to bestow, if it were that whole vessel, upon master Gerard. But it is now three months, sense it was all drawn out even to the lees. And at this present, there is not in my house one drop of that kind of wine: whereof I am very sorry. But, that you may be well assured, that it is so in deed, I pray you, come down with me, and see. And with that he would needs have him down into the cellar, and showed him the vessel. Wherein that red wine had been. And the messenger might well perceive, that the vessel was dry, and that it had stood long empty But yet the good man, for the more assurance, in his presence would needs draw out the spigot also: that he might see it with his eyes, and so satisfy master Gerardes' mind. So soon as he had taken out the spigot, behold, there issued out of the vessel a goodly red wine, which ran abondantly, even as from a full tap, and wet all the ground underneath. Whereat the good man of the house was marvelously astoined: and putting up the spigot again, called all that were in his house, both men and women, and examined them diligently, if any of them knew of any wine, that was put into that vessel. They said all and swore also, that the vessel had stood empty for the space of three months before; and they thought it not only unlike, but also impossible, that any creature should bring so much wine into the house, and put it into the vessel without their knowledge. Which made them to think (as it was in deed) that this wine was sent them from God to the behoof and comfort of the holy maid. And when the messenger, that was sent from master Gerard, came home with his bottle full of that wine, and declared to him and the rest, what had happened: they all took great comfort in it, and magnified the bountiful goodness of almighty God, that had so miraculously provided for the relief of his true handmaid. The fame of this miracle being spread through out the city it chanced within a few days after, when the holy maid was recovered, that she had an occasion to go abroad, to visit a certain patriarch, that was newly come to the city, sent from the Sea Apostlolike. While she passed through the streets, the people, having understanding of her coming abroad, forsook their work and shops, and ran from all parts of the city to see her, and said. What a woman is this, that drinketh water herself, and yet filleth our vessels with wine? When the holy maid saw that press of the people, and understood the cause of the same, it went to the very heart of her: as she declared afterwards in confession to her ghostly Father. And therefore she turned herself to almighty God after a sorrowful manner & spoke to him in her heart after this sort. O Lord, why hast thou plagued me thy poor handmaid thus, as to make me a laughing stock to all the people? All other thy servants may be seen among men: only I can not. Who desired this wine of thee for me? Thou knowest, O Lord, that I have long forborn the drinking of wine: and now for a little wine I am made a common talk in every man's mouth. I most humbly beseech thee (O my dear Lord) for all the mercies, that ever thou hast showed unto me thine unworthy handmaid, that thou wilt cause this wine utterly to vanish away, in such sort, that the brute, that is raised of me among the people, may cease withal. Thus she prayed with deep sighs and inward groaning of heart: and our Lord despised not her prayer; For, whereas the people repaired still to the house to drink of the wine, and many honest citizens drank of it for pure devotion, and evermore perceived that there was nothing the less wine for all their drinking: coming now to the vessel to drink, they found, that all the wine was turned to thick dregs. And whereas before it was a very pleasant wine, it was now of a sudden become so pudlie and unpleasant, that no man might abide to drink of it. Which thing caused a great alteration in the minds of the people; For whereas before they thought & spoke very reverently of the holy maid, many of them began now to imagine, that this wine was a thing counterfeicted by the devil, and that almighty God, to make such treachery known to the world, had turned it unto dregs. Which made the good man of the house and all other, that had before by occasion of this miracle, given the holy maid a report of great virtue and holiness, so much ashamed, that afterwards they durst not once to open their mouths, to speak any thing, that tended to her commendation. But the holy maid herself was very glad of it, and gave God most humble thanks, that had delivered her from such vain and troublesome applauses of the people. Wherein she showed herself in deed to be the true disciple and follower of our Saviour Christ, whose manner it was evermore, when he had wrought miracles, to avoid the favourable speeches of men. And howsoever it pleased evil disposed people to interpret these two miracles, there could be no fault in the holy maid; For of the foremer, which they ascribed to the devil, she knew nothing, until it was done: and the latter was wrought by almighty God, & at her request. But a charitable mind would rather interpret them thus: that our Lord showed in the foremer miracle, how much he loved her, and in the latter, how she answered his love again with a profound humility In the foremer he gave us matter to praise her, in the later example to follow her. In the foremer he taught us, how she was adorned with grace, in the latter, how she was stayed with wisdom: for where humility is, there is also true wisdom.   

Of a goodly vision, that was showed to a certain devout matron in Rome, at the departure of the holy maid out of this life.  
Chap. 9  
AT what time the holy maid departed out of this life, there was in the city of Rome a certain devout matron of honest parentage, called Semia. This woman in her husbands days served God diligently. But after her husbands death, being left with two sons, she gave herself wholly to prayer, visiting of holy places, and other the like devout exercises, and so continued many years: Her manner was to rise every night to prayer, and towards the morning to take a little rest, lying down or leaning her head for a while to her bed's side, that she might the better endure the labour of going the stations in Rome the next day. This Semia when the holy maid came first to the city, being informed by diverse and sundry people of her great virtue and holiness, resorted much to her house, and in time became very familiar with her. Howbeit she was so thoroughly occupied, what with her ordinary stations and pilgrimages, and what with the necessary attendance upon her two sons, that sometimes for certain days together, she had no leisure to come and see the holy maid: (as it chanced in deed at the time of her final sickness & passage out of this world.) The night, before the holy maid gave up the ghost in the morning, this devout matron rose up, after her accustomed manner, to prayer. And when she had done, she thought to rest herself a while, as she was wont to do. Howbeit she had a care, not to sleep overlong, because it was sunday, & she intended to hear high Mass that day: which she could not do conveniently, unless she rose up quickly; because she had her children's gardeners to dress, before she went to Church. Now lying down with this care, her mind was so fully occupied with the same, that (as it is wont to happen in such case) she seemed to speak to herself in her sleep, and to say thus. Woman, what meanest thou? Thou must needs rise quickly (there is no remedy) that thou mayest dress thy children's dinner, and so go to Church in dew tyme. As she was speaking these words in her mind to herself, behold, there appeared a marvelous goodly child unto her, of the age (as it seemed) of an eight or ten years, which spoke to her after this manner. I will not have thee to rise yet, until thou have seen a thing, that I will show thee. She was much delighted with the sight of that child: and yet, because she had great care of her business, and specially of hearing Mass, she spoke unto him, and said. I pray thee, good child, let me rise: for I must needs hear high Mass this day. In no wise, said the child: unless thou see before certain wonderful things that I am commanunded by God to show thee. And with that he took her by her garments (as it seemed to her) and lead her into a certain open and large place, in the which she saw the form of a marvelous goodly oratory or Church, and in the top of the same a tabernacle of silver close locked, which showed very princely. Then said the child to her. Abide here a while, and thou shalt see, what is in yonder tabernacle. He had no sooner spoken those words, but that there appeared an other child like him, which brought a ladder, and with a golden key, that he had in his hand opened the door of the tabernacle. When the door was open, she saw a marvelous goodly and beautiful young maid, royally apparelled all in shining white, with collars and ouches of price. She ware three crowns upon her head, which were very finely wrought and set together in such sort, that every one of them might be perfectly seen and discerned from the other. The lower crown was all of pure silver, and showed white. The second was of silver mingled with gold, and showed a certain glistering red colour, such as is wont to be when an orient red ground is wrought over with threads of gold. The third and highest crown was all of pure gold, richly, decked and set round about with pearls and precious stones. The widow, beholding this goodly sight, began to reason with herself, what young maid that might be, that was so gorgeously trymed. And looking steadily on her, she might well discern, that it was the face of Caterine of Sienna: but her age was not answerable. Which made her to suspect, that it should be some other. Then the child, that appeared to her first, asked her whether she knew that fair maid, or no. Truly, said she, this is the very face of Caterine of Sienna: but her age agreeth not. While the woman stood thus and looked wishly upon her, the young maid, that was within the tabernacle, smiled sweetly, and said to those two children. Lo, this woman knoweth me not. After this, there came four other children, like unto these, and brought with them a settle to carry one in, made in form like a bride chamber, and furnished thoroughly with rich clothes of a purple colour. And when they had set down this chamber or settle by the aforesaid tabernacle of silver, they went up nymbly, and took the young maid, that was there crowned in their hands, to bring her down and put her in that chamber. But while this was in doing, the young maid spoke to those children and said. Let me go a little to that woman first, that seethe me now, and knoweth me not. And with that she went towards her, as it were fleeing, and said unto her. Semia, do not you know me? I am Caterine of Sienna, even as my face showeth. What, said Semia? Are you Caterine my spiritual mother? I am, said she. But mark well, what thou hast seen, and what thou shalt see. When the blessed virgin had spoken those words, the six children took her, and brought her back to the said bride chamber: and placed her in the same, and so lifted her upon high. Semia stood still and looked after, to see, what would become of her. And behold, she saw in heaven a seat, and upon the seat a king sitting, royally clad and crowned, having in his right hand a book open. The children mounted up with their carriage, until they came to the foot of this seat: and there they set down the bed chamber and the maid in it. And she forthwith went out of the chamber, and cast herself down prostrate at the feet of the king, and worshipped him. That done, the king said to her. Welcome my right dearly beloved spouse and daughter Caterine. Then, being commanded by the king, she lift up her head, and read in the book, that he held in his right hand, so long, as a man would well say a Pater noster. When she had done that, the king commanded her to stand up. And so she did, and stood by the seat looking for the coming of the Queen: Which came forthwith, accompanied with a goodly train of virgins, and went (as it seemed) towards the king. When the Queen approached near, the holy maid went down from the place, where she stood, and kneeling upon her knees, worshipped her. The Queen embraced her very lovingly, and said. Heartily welcome, my dear daughter Caterine. And with that she took her up and kissed her. Then the holy maid kneeled down again, and worshipped the Queen. And, when she had so done, she went by commandment of the Queen to all the rest of the virgins, one after an other and they all received her likewise with passing great joy and kissed her. Now Semia, that stood and behold all these things was so moved with the sight, that she cried out aloud, and said. O blessed Lady, O mother of our Lord & Saviour jesus Christ, make intercession for us. And again she said. O blessed Marie Magdalene, O blessed S. Catherine, O blessed S. Agnes, O blessed S. Margarite pray for us. And with this cry she awaked out of her sleep: and opening her eyes saw, that the son was of a great height. Whereof being very sorry, both for the high Mass, which, she doubted, would be almost done, before she could come to her parish Church, and also for her children's dinner, which could not be made ready against the due time, she began to think with herself, what the cause should be, why that unwonted and strange vision should be showed unto her: for she neither knew nor suspected, that the holy maid should be departed out of this life: though she knew well, that she was very sick: because she had seen by experience, that the holy maid had often times recovered and escaped out of sicknesses, that seemed very grievous and past all hope of recovery. Wherhfore she rather thought, that for so long time as she had been occupied about this vision, the holy maid had been after her accustomed manner in some singular trance or abstraction, in the which our Lord had showed unto her some great and notable revelations. But because the morning was so far spent, that she stood in doubt of finding any Mass that day, she supposed, that all this vision was none other thing, but only some subtle illusion of the devil, to make her to transgress the commandment of our holy mother the Church, in not hearing Mass on the sunday Wherefore she hasted herself up, and set her pot over the fire, and ran towards the parish Church, saying thus in her heart. If I lose Mass this day, I will take all this to be the work of the ghostly enemy. But if I come in good time to hear Mass, then will I think, that our Lord hath showed these things unto me for my good mother Catherines sake. When she came to the Church, she found, that the gospel was done, and the offertory song. Whereof she was very sorry, and said. Out upon me wretch, the wicked fiend hath deceived me. With that she made haste homwardes again to set her things in the kitchen a little forward: that she might go to some other Church, and find a whole Mass. While she was at home thus occupied, she heard a bell ring to Mass in a monastery of Nuns not far from her house: which made her a glad woman. And so she set herself in order again to go to Church, and for haste left her coleworts, (which stood by her ready piked and washed) even as they were, and put them not into the pot, as she had thought to do, When she came to the Church she found them at the very beginning of Mass whereof she was very glad, and said to herself. Surely, now I see, that the devil hath not deceived me: as, I thought, he had done. But she had great care of the displeasure of her sons, which were now of good years, because she knew, their dinner was nor ready, nor could not be made ready in any convenient tyme. Houbeit she committed all to God, that she might hear Mass devoutly; beseeching him notwithstanding, that if that vision were of him, he would so provide, that there might no displeasure or cause of offence rise of the same between her & her children. And with that she set herself down and heard out the whole Mass to the end: when Mass was done as she was going homeward, her sons met with her in the street, & said. Mother, it is very late. I pray you, let us go to dinner. Tarry a little, good children, said she: & you shall dine in good tyme. She went home a pace, and found the door fast locked and the key within, even as she had left it. So soon as she was within the house, she went straight to the kitchen, & thought to have gone forward with the dressing of dinner. But when she came in, she saw, that all was done to her hand: her colewoortes and flesh thoroughly sodden, & all other things in such readiness, that they might go to the table when they would. Whereat she was much astoined, and said to herself. Surely, now I see, our Lord hath heard my prayer. And she determined to go after dinner to the holy maids house (whom she thought to be yet alive in the world) and to tell her of all the things, that had chanced that day. Her sons, that were not far from the house, she called home, and set them to dinner. And while they were eating, her mind ran still upon the strange vision, that she had seen in the morning, and upon these wonders, that had ensued upon the same. Her sons also, that knew nothing of the matter, began to commend their meat, and said, that it was passing well seasoned, and had a far better taste, than it was wont to have. Which words she put up in her heart, and said to herself (as she declared afterwards to Doctor Raimundus.) O my good mother Catherine, it is thou, that hast come this morning into my house, to supply my room and office in the kitchen. Now I know, in deed, that thou art a holy virgin, & the true hand maid of Christ. And yet for all this, she suspected nothing of the holy maids departure out of this life: but, so soon as her sons had dined, she went forthwith to her house (as she was wont to do at other times) and knocked at the door: but no body give her answer. The neighbours told her, that of likelihood she was gone out (as her manner was) to visit some holy place, and that there was no body at home. Which she supposed to be true, & therefore went her way. Now the truth was, that all those, that were within, were in great heaviness for the loss of their good mother which was departed from them, and had left them as motherless children in this wicked world. And they did, what they could, to conceal her death from the people: both for the avoiding of that great press and tumult, which, they knew would be made, if her death were once noised; and also, that they might with the more quietness confer with discreet people concerning the manner and order of her funerals. But, howsoever they laboured to keep the matter secret, the next day, when her body should be carried to the Church of the friars preachers, commonly called Our lady over Minerva, it was known all over the city. And there was such a concourse of people, running and pressing towards the place, where she lay, to touch some part either of her body or of her garments, that those of her family & retinue, that were there attending upon the corpse, were in great fear and danger, to have had both their garments torn from their backs, and their bodies sore hurt with the violent press & crowd of the unruly multitude. In so much that they were constrained to remove the beer from the place, where it stood, and to set it in S. Dominickes chapel, which was well defended with a strong grate of iron. While these things were in doing, Semia came thither by chance: and seeing such a great concourse of people, asked what it meaned. They made her answer, and said, that Catherine of Sienna was dead, and that her body was there carried to the Church to be buried, When she heard that, she s●right pitifully, and ran towards the place, where her corpse lay. When she came thither, and saw certain women and sisters of the holy maids family standing about her body: she cried out and said. O most cruel women, why have you kept the departure of my sweet mother secret from me? wherefore would ye not call me, to be present with others at her passage out of the world? They excused themselves, alleging certain reasonable causes: which did in some degree satisfy her mind. Well then, said she: I pray you, tell me what time she departed. Yester day, said they, about eight of the clock she gave up the ghost. With that she rend her own face with her nails, and cried out ruthfully. I saw her: I saw my sweet mother, even when she departed out of her body. I saw her carried up into heaven by the ministery of Angels, crowned with three precious crowns, & clad solomnely with stately robes of shining white▪ Now I know, that it was our Lord, that sent his Angel, to show me the departure of my good mother. It was he, that provided for me, that I should hear Mass so late. And (which is more) I see now, that it was our Lord himself, that supplied my charge miraculously in the dressing of my children's dinner. O mother, O dear mother▪ O sweet mother, why wouldst thou not give me to understand, that it was thou, that didst departed out of this life? When she had thus eased her heart somewhat with weeping and speaking, she declared to those religious sisters, and to the rest, that stood there about the beer, what a goodly vision our Lord had showed her, at that very time, when the holy maid passed out of this world, with all such other things, as have been recited here tofore. Whereof they all glorified God, and took no small comfort.   

How the holy maids body lay three days & three nights above the ground unburied: and of a number of miracles, which it pleased our Lord to work in that mean time.  
C. 10.  
WHile the holy maids body lay thus within the chapel of S. Dominicke, the people came in so fast from all parts of the city, to kiss her hands and feet, to touch some part of her garments, & to commend themselves to her prayers, that they were constrained, for satisfying the people's devotion, to keep her above the ground unburied for the space of three days & three nights. In the which time, very many came thither, & brought with them a number of weak & impotent creatures, hoping that they should obtain their recovery and health at God's hand, through the holy prayers & merits of the B. virgin; And they were not deceived in their hope & expectation.  
There was dwelling in the city of Rome at that time a sister of the third order of S. Francis, called Dominica borne in Bergamo a city of Lombardie, which had one of her arms benumbed, and, as it were, withered and dried up in such sort, that for the space of six months before the departure of the holy maid, she had no use of it. This Dominica came to the Church, and to the chapel, where the holy corpse lay. But because, being a weak woman, she could not come herself to touch any part of her body or garments, by reason of the great press and crowd of the people: she prayed some one, that stood there near to the beer, that he would be so good, as to take a vele of hers, and put it to some part of the body, and so deliver it unto her aganie. When she had received her vele again, she put it to her arms and forthwith her arm was perfectly healed, and in as good state, as ever it was before. The which when she perceived, she cried out for joy, and declared to all the people, that were there present, what a wonderful work our Lord had wrought upon her. Whereupon they brought in many other weak and feeble creatures, hoping, t'had if they might come to touch but only the hem of her garments, they should be made whole.  
Among others, they brought in a child of four years old, whose sinews in his neck were shrunken, that he held his head evermore upon his shoulder; and could not lift it up. When this child was brought thither; they held him down to the beer that the holy maids hand might touch that part that was so shrunken, and they took the vele, that was over the holy maids head, and put it about the child's neck. And forthwith the child began to amend: and in the presence of all that people, within a very little time lift up his head, and was fully and perfectly healed.  
After this, an honest citizen of Rome called Lucius Cavarulis, which was so grievously pained with an incurable disease in his hip and leg, that he could scantly endure to go a very little way with the help of a staff or crouch, hearing the fame of the great miracles, that were wrought by almighty God in the honour of the holy maid, came with passing great pain and travail to the Church of the friars preachers. And when he was come thither, he found the means by the help of others to be carried to the place, where her body lay. And there, with great devotion he took her hand, and laid it upon the parts diseased, to wit, upon his thigh and leg. He had no sooner done so, but that he felt immediately a present ease and help. And before he departed from thence, was perfectly cured of his disease and main, to the great wonder and astonishment of all the people.  
In like manner, a young maid called Ritozola, upon whom a very loathsome and stinking lepry was so far grown, that her nose and upper lip were foully disfigured with the same, hearing in the city the brute and talk of these strange miracles, came to the Church, and pressed to approach near to the holy corpse: but was diverse times repelled by them, that stood there about the beer. All the which not withstanding she assayed again and again: and at the length with much a do gate in. When she was entered, she went forthwith, and put her nose and lip, that were so pitifully disfigured, not only to the feet and hands of the holy maid, (as others did) but also to her face. Whereby she was so fully cured of her foul disease, that there remained not so much as any little sign or token of the lepry in her face.  
A certain Roman called Typreus had a daughter, which in her tender age fell into a very grievous infirmity called the phthisic: of the which she could not be cured by any medicine. This Typreus and his wife (whose name was Lella.) hearing the fame of these great miracles, that were wrought by the holy maid, commended their daughter with great devotion unto her, and caused their daughter to touch a certain kerchief and beads, that had touched the holy maids body. A wonderful thing, The young maid that was before despaired of physicians and other, forthwith upon the touching of these things without any longer time or help of medicine, found herself to be in as good state of body, as ever she was in her life before: and so continued.  
In this time likewise, while the body of the holy maid lay above the ground, there was in Rome a certain citizen called Antony Lellipeeters, which by over labouring his body had fallen into such a nommenes of his limbs, that he was, as it were, an impotent man, and could neither walk nor stand. And the physicians could find nothing in their art, that could either cure him wholly of his disease, or ease him in any degree of his extreme pain. This Antony, hearing, what wonderful things were done by the holy maid, commended himself devoutly unto her, and made a vow, that he would do some special thing to her might honour if he be delivered by her merits. He had no sooner given out that vow in his heart, but that he felt himself perfectly healed, both of his lameness and pain: and began to walk as nymbly, as ever he did in his life before: & went by and by to the place, where the holy corpse lay, and performed his vow: and declared with great joy in the presence of all the people there assembled at that time, what a wonderful grace he had received at God's hand, through the merits of that holy maid.  
There was also a certain devout matron in Rome, called Paula, which was used of the holy maid, or rather used her very familiary: for she was her hostess, and enierteined both the holy maid and all her company in her house. This Paula was, at the time of the holy maids departure, pained with two diseases: which had continued upon her four months before. The one was the gout: the other the pain of the flank. And, because these two maladies were of such contrary quality, that whatsoever was ministered unto her for the help of the one, was hurtful to the other: (the one requiring things to lose, the other contrary wise things to bind) the sick woman was pitifully vexed, and many times brought even to the very point of death. When the holy maid passed out of this life, she besought them, that were about her, very instantly, that they would let her have certain things, that had touched the holy maids body. The which things being given unto her over night, the next morning she rose out of her bed (which she was never able to do in four months before) and walked as lustily as ever she had done, when she was in her best health. These and many other miracles did almighty God work to the honour of the holy maid in those three days, while her body lay unburied: which through the negligence of men, were not so duly examined and diligently written, as these.  
Among other things, that chaunceed within the space of those three days, one thing, which seemeth to give a certtaine credit & confirmation to the rest, is not to be passed over with silence. There was a certain Doctor of divinity, which, in the time of that great concourse of people, went up to the pulpit, to make a sermon or collation in the the praise of the holy maid. And when he had stood there a good while, and had assayed by diverse and sundry means to get him audience, and saw at the length, that it would not be: he said only these words. This holy virgin hath no need of our preaching. She preacheth much better herself then we are able to do. And with that he came down, ano left the people sufficiently edified with the wonderful things, that they saw there with their eyes.   

What miracles almighty God wrought, to honour the holy maid, after her burial.  
Chap. 11.  
WHen the holy maids body had been thus kept three days and three nights above the ground; they buried it. Howbeit almighty God ceased not to honour his dear spouse with miracles: but wrought both more and greater things, than before.  
A certain Roman called john Veries, had a little son, which could neither go nor stand upright on his feet. This man, hearing by others, what great miracles were wrought by the holy maid, made a vow to God and her, for the recovery of his child: and brought him to the place, where she was buried. So soon as the child was laid upon the holy maids grave, his feet and legs received firmness and strength, and he began to stand upright and walk so well, as if he had never had any such defect.  
In like manner one john Tozos, had a very strange and horrible infirmity in his eyes: in so much that there bred worms in one of his eyes. This john made a vow to the blessed virgin S. Catherine: and forthwith he was perfectly healed of his painful and loathsome disease. Whereupon he went to the holy maids grave, and offered up a certain memorial of wax (as the manner is) in token of his delivery: and declared, what a wonderful grace he had received.  
There was also a certain woman, that came out of Germany to the city in pilgrimage: whose name by negligence of them, that were appointed to write these things, was not taken. This pilgrymme had with long sickness, as it were, lost the use of her eyes, and was without hope to recover the same by any medicine. Wherefore she commended herself devoutly to the holy maid, and made a vow. So soon as she had so done, she received her sight again, and came to the grave to perform her vow: and saw as well, as ever she had done in her life before.  
There was also a woman of honour in Rome, called lady Marie: which had such a grievous pain in her head, that in continuance of time she lost one of her eyes, though she had used diverse and sundry medicines for the saving of the same. For the which cause, partly for sorrow, and partly for shamefastness, she kept herself evermor within her own house, & would not be seen abroad, neither in the church nor else where in any open place. This lady, understanding by others what great things had been wrought in the city by the holy maid, commended herself unto her, and made a vow. The night following, the holy maid appeared to one of her waiting women in her sleep, and willed her to tell her lady, that she should make no more medicines for her eyes, but should go every morning to Church to hear the divine service: and so doing she should find help. The lady hearing that, did as she was willed by her servant, and found, as she was promised by the holy maid: For she recovered not only strength for that eye, that remained (which was much weakened) but also perfect sight in that other eye, that was quite out. And (which was the greatest cure of all) the eye of her mind was also restored in such sort, that she saw now, how to observe the commandment of God in going to the sermons, and keeping holy the sundays and other holy days commanded by our holy mother the Church.  
There was also a certain young man in Rome called james, the son of a certain citizen called Peter Nicols, which with long sickness at the length was brought so low, that it booted not to minister any more physic unto him. When all men had given him over, as a dead man, a certain devout woman that was about him, called Cecola Cartaria, made a vow to the blessed virgin S. Caterine in his behalf: and forthwith the young man began to amend, and within a very little time, was fully recovered of his disease.  
In like manner, a certain woman called Gilia Petruccies, when the physicians had given their definitive sentence, that by the course of nature she must needs die, made the like vow to S. Catherine of Sienna: and with that found present ease of her pain, and within a few days after was perfectly restored to her health.  
There was also at this time in the city, a certain noble and devout woman, called Lady jone Ilperines', which was well acquenited with the holy maid in her life tyme. And therefore seeing the miracles, that were wrought after her death, she conceived the greater opinion of holiness in her. In so much that, wheresoever she went to visit any, that were sick and diseased she would always persuade with them, that they should commend themselves devoutly to the holy virgin S. Caterine of Sienna. By the which means she procured the recovery of a great many that were sick of diverse and sundry diseases.  
On a time it chanced, that one of this ladies own children; sporting and running rechlesly (as young children are wont to do) in an upper loft of the house, fell down headlong to the ground in her presence. She, seeing the sudden fall of her child, whom, as a good mother, she could not but love tenderly, and considering of the thing, as it was like to be in the discourse of man (which was, that her son should either die presently, or else at the least be sore crushed that he should prove but a cripple or wraile all the days of his life after) cried out mightily and said. O blessed S. Caterine of Sienna, I commend my child to thee. It is a wonderful matter to consider, that, though the height and other conditions of the place, from whence the child fell, were such, that in reason they might hope of none other, but only present death, yet, when they came to take up the child, they found, that he had no manner of harm in any part of his body, but was fully in as good case and liking after that great fall, as he was before. When the mother saw that, she gave most humble thanks to almighty God and to his dear spouse S. Caterine: and ceased not, wheresoever she came, to set out her holiness and virtues to the uttermost of her power.  
There was also a poor woman in the city called good jone, which, being a common laundress, gate a poor living by serving of others, & specially by washing of clothes. This jone washing on a time by the rivers side called Tiber, happened among other clothes to wash a quilt, of the which one part was in the river, and the other under her hand in washing. But, that part, the swam in the river, being heavier than the other, of a sudden drew that part, that was in washing, from under her, and so the whole was carried away with the sway of the stream. When the poor woman saw the quilt gone, & knew, that, if it were lost, she was never able to pay for it: having a greater care to recover the quilt, then to save herself, she reached so far after it, that she fell into the water also, and was carried likewise a good way from the land. Being there in great distress, and destitute of all man's help, it came to her mind, what great miracles were wrought at that time in the city by the holy maid. Whereupon she cried out, & said. O blessed virgin S. Catherine of Sienna, help me now in this great need. She had no sooner spoken those words, but that forthwith she was helped up by the almighty hand of God, and brought against the course of the stream, and set with the quilt in her hand upon the bank, without any help of man. When she saw herself there, and could not imagine, how she came thither: she thanked God with all her heart, and ascribed the benefit of her escaping from that present danger (as it was in deed) to the merits of B. S. Caterine.  
Not long after the death of the holy maid, doct. Raimund. being made the general over his whole order, came to Rome, as his charge required. And being there, translated the holy body of S. Caterine upon that very day, that she had prophesied, that it should be done many years before. By travailing wherein, & in other affairs appertaining to his office, his body was distempered in such sort, that he had need to have the advise of some learned physician. Whereupon he sent for one, that dwelled there by, not far from the monastery, called master james of our Lady the round: which coming one time to visit doct: Raimundus & talking of the holy maid, told him of a very strange thing, that had chanced in his own knowledge to a certain young man called Colas of Ciuccio. This Colas lay sick in his father in laws house (whose name was Cincius Tancancim) of a very grievous disease in his throat, called the Squinancy. Which increased so mightily upon him, that the physicians gave him over, & said plainly, that by the course of nature he must needs die, & that within a very few hovers, when the young man was even at the point of death, Alexia hearing of it (who loved Cincius well, because he was a devout man and bare a singular affection to the holy maid in her life time) went to the house in great haste, and took with her a tooth of the holy maid: which she kept as a great relic and jewel. And when she came & saw the young man, as it were, upon passing out of this world, by reason that the aposteme had straightened his throat so much that he was even at the point of choking: she put the said tooth to his throat. And forthwith the apostume brake, and he lifted up his head, and avoided a great quantity of rotten matter out at his mouth. And within a very little time, he recovered perfectly, & gave most humble thanks to almighty God & to his glorious spouse S. Caterine: by the virtue of whose tooth, he confessed in all companies & in all places, wheresoever he came, that he had been delivered even from present death. In so much that one time, when doctor Raimundus had made a sermon in the commendation of the holy maid, & had among other things touched this present miracle: the young man being there at that time by chance, stood up before all the people, & said these words. It is true, that ye say, master doctor: for I am the man, upon whom this great miracle was wrought.  
At what time queen jone of Sicilia sent Rainald of Vrsine with a great company of men of arms against Pope Urban the sixth, with purpose either to expel him out of the city, or else to take him, and so to put him to death: the Romans' stood very dutifully, and fought many skirmishes in the defence of their city and bishop. In the which skirmishes many of them (especially of the inferior sort) were taken by the enemy, and cruelly handled. Some were tied up against trees, and so let alone, that they might die a long and painful death. Some other, that were thought to be of some ability to ransom themselves, were lead into a broad field, and there, after diverse and sundry horrible torments, fettered with chains and bolts of iron. Of these it was generally marked, that, so many as called upon S. Caterine of Sienna, were forthwith loosed of their bands, & returned home to their own houses. And some of them to doct. Raimundus, and declared to him and other, how wonderfully our Lord had wrought for their deliverance.  
These things did almighty God work, to honour the holy virgin after her death & burial, with many other, that were not written, through the negligence of a certain notary, whom doct. Raimundus put in trust. Because he was himself at that time an old man, & could not remember so many things, as were credibly reported to him, so particularly & so precisely, as, he knew, was requisite for the credit of a holy legend or history of a Saints life. Howbeit whatsoever lacked in him or in the notary, was in some degree supplied by the devotion of them, that had received such benefits. Of the which there came a marvelous great number both men & women, and offered up (as the manner is) certain images of wax upon her tomb: in the which was expressed, as well as they could, the manner of each miracle, to the honour of God the worker and giver of all good things, and of his glorious spouse S. Caterine, in contemplation of whose merits it pleased him to work such good things at that tyme.     


A TABL OF THE CHAPTERS CONTAINED IN THE FIRST PART OF THIS BOOK.  


OF the birth and infancy of this holy virgin: and of certain wonderful tokens of holiness, that showed in her even at that age. Chap. 1.  
Of a very strange vision showed unto her: and of certain wonderful effects of the love of God towards her, and of her love towards God. Chap. 2.  
Of a bold enterprise, which this blessed infant made, to live a solitary life after the manner of the ancient fathers in Egypt: and how she understood, that it was not the will of God, that she should enter into that state of life, as yet. Chap. 3.  
How she vowed her virginity unto almighty God. Chap. 4.  
Of a wonderful zeal, that was in her, to win souls to God: and how for that cause she cast a great love to S. Dominicke and to his order. Chap. 5.  
How she relented somewhat in her spiritual exercises, being thereunto induced by the importunity of her mother & sisters, who would needs have her to use some diligence in trimming herself. And of the penance which she did for that offence. Chap. 6.  
How she recovered her wont liberty in serving God, and was reconciled again to her spouse▪ How the persecutions, that she sustained at home, did not only not hurt her, but also profit her much. Chap. 7.  
Of her continuance in her fervent and devout exercises: and how her father saw a dove over her head. Of a singular affection, that she bore to the habit of S. Dominicke: and how it was declared unto her by a clear vision; that she was heard. How she prevailed against all those in the house, that went about to hinder her holy designementes and vows, Chap. 8.  
Of her great abstinence. Chap. 9  
Of her great austerity about her bed and apparel. Chap. 10.  
Of her wonderful watching: and of the grief, that her mother took for the same. Chap. 11.  
How she beat herself for a long time thrice in the day with a chain of iron. Chap. 12.  
How she desired earnestly to receive the habit of S. Dominike: and how her mother, to turn her mind, lead her away to the baths. What penance she did even in the baths. Chap. 13.  
How she received the habit of S. Dominike: and how she was the first virgin, that received the same. Chap. 14.  
Of the holy vows, designementes, and exercises, which the blessed virgin used after the receiving of the habit. And what effectual exhortations she made to excite herself to the service of God. Chap. 15.  
Of diverse and sundry visions and revelations showed unto her, with a doctrine how to discern between true and false visions. Chap. 16.  
Of a very goodly and profitable doctrine of our Saviour worthy to be planted in the hearts of as many as are desirous to come to spiritual perfection. Chap. 17,  
another goodly doctrine, by the which a soul is made pure and meet to enjoy the familiarity of almighty God even in this life: with a miracle wrought by our Lord on the sea, for confirmation of the same. Chap. 18.  
Certain goodly sayings, which she was wont to use, to excite herself and others to the perfection of charity. Chap. 19  
Of the strange battles, which she had against the devil, and how she armed herself with a strong faith and other heavenly virtues, and so gate a most glorious victory over her enemy. Chap. 20.  
How the enemy, accompanied with a great multitude of unclean spirits, renewed his battery against this strong fortress, and used greater enforcement, than before. Chap. 21.  
How our Lord with diverse other Saints visited her oftentimes very familiarly: and how he taught her to read by miracle. Chap. 22.  
How she increased so much in heavenly contemplations, that she was oftentimes ravished in the same: and how she was espoused to our Saurour Christ with a ring Chap. 23.  
Certain proofs of the holiness of this blessed virgin, declaring the afore mentioned straight friendship and familiarity between our Lord and her to be a thing undoubted. Chap. 24.     

A TABLE OF THE CHAPTERS CONTAINED IN THE SECOND PART OF THIS BOOK.  


HOw the spouse of Christ was made by little and little to show herself to the world, Chap. 1.  
Of her virtuous and lowly conversation among men: and how she would debase herself to do the vilest services in the house. Of many strange visitations, excesses, and trawnses, which she had in the presence of many. Chap. 2.  
How being in a trawnse she fell into the fire, and there continued a good while without any harm. Chap. 3.  
Of diverse and sundry miracles like to this afore written. And how it pleased our Saviour Christ to give the enemy power over her body. Chap. 4.  
What a charitable affection and great care she had of the poor: and of a pleasant matter, that fell out about the same. Chap▪ 5.  
An other very notable example of her great charity towards the poor. Chap. 6.  
An other very wonderful example of her passing great charity, like to this afore written. Chap. 7.  
Of two evident miracles, which our Lord wrought, to declare, how acceptable her works of charity were to him. Chap. 8.  
Of a passing great charity and diligence, which she used in attending upon a sick woman: and of her invincible patience in bearing the waywardness of the same woman. Chap. 9  
An other very strange example of her charity and patience towards a sick woman of her own order: and how she rendered great good for great evil. Chap. 10.  
How she served an old widow, that had a festered sore running upon her: by whom she was also infamed. And of diverse strange accidents, that ensued upon the same. Chap. 11.  
How she was endued with many goodly privileges. How she had a passing desire to receive the blessed Sacrament. How, being fortified with the spirit of God, she endured much labour and travail without any bodily sustenance. Chap. 12.  
How she was molested by diverse and sundry people, dissuading her from her straight abstinence: and how she overcame her ghostly father by reason. Chap. 13.  
How her strange manner of life was gainsaid and slandered: and how such gainesayinge and slanders may easily be answered. Chap. 14.  
How she showed herself marvelous severe and rigorous towards herself, and contrariwise wonderful gentle and meek towards them, that slandered her: which she did to win them to God. Chap. 15.  
How our Saviour took her heart out of her body, and after a certain of days gave her a new for it. Chap. 16.  
Of diverse and sundry visions, which she had at the slight and receiving of the blessed Sacrament: and how she felt herself wonderfully altered after the receipt of that new heart. Chap. 17.  
How our Lord revealed many high mysteries to the holy maid: and how Marie Magdalen was assigned to her, to be her mother. Chap 18.  
How, hangyngh in the air, she saw certain secrets and high mysteries of God, which it is not lawful to disclose to any man. Chap, 19  
How she put her mouth to the side of our Saviour, and drank: and of many other wonderful things, that happened about the blessed Sacrament. Chap 20.  
Of certain other revelations showed unto her upon the receiving of the blessed Sacrament. And how she obtained graces for diverse and sundry people. Chap 21.  
How she received the blessed marks of our Saviour Christ in the city of Pisa. Chap. 22.  
How she was ravished in spirit for the space of three days: and how afterwards she did penance as long, for a word, that escaped her unwares. Chap. 23.  
Of certain other revelations: and again of the tenderness of her conscience. Chap. 24.  
How it pleased God to reveal to her the worthiness and excellency of the blessed patriarch S. Dominicke, and of his true children. Chap. 25.  
How the holy virgin, being wholly inflamed with the Love of God, desired instantly to be loosed from this life, and to be with Christ: and how by that mean she obtained to bear in her body every particular pain, that our Saviour Christ suffered for us. Chap. 26.  
How, bearing the Cross of Christ continually in her body, she took great delight to reason of the same: and how she revealed many strange mysteries upon the holy scriptures concerning the Cross. Chap. 27.  
another exposition upon the same place of the gospel, with certain other mystical sayings. And how she passed in deed out of this life in the panies of the Cross. Chap. 28  
How she passed in deed out of this life, and had the fruition of heavenly joys: and how afterwards her soul came again to the body. Chap▪ 29.  
How she had a marvelous devotion and longing after the blessed Sacrament: and how she bore many reproaches and slanders for the same. Chap. 30.  
How our Saviour Christ ministered the blessed Sacrament unto her with his own holy hand. Chap. 31.  
How her face did shine like an Angel, while she was receiving the blessed Sacrament: and of certain other strange signs. Chap. 32.  
How almighty God permitted the devil to have power our her body: and how she overcame all with great patience. Chap. 33.  
How she delivered a certanie young maid, that was possessed of a wicked spirit. Chap. 34.  
How she delivered a woman, that was possessed of a wicked spirit. Chap. 35.     

A TABLE OF THE CHAPTERS CONTAINED IN THE THIRD PART OF THIS BOOK.  


HOw the holy maid was endued with the spirit of prophecy, and foretold, what calamities should happen to the Church, and likewise, how it should be restored again. Chap. 1.  
How the holy maid saw the secret thoughts of men's hearts: and how she used that gift to the benefit of diverse and sundry people. Chap. 2.  
How the holy maid delivered Doctor Thomas her confessor and an other Friar, that journeyed with him, from being murdered in the way. Chap. 3.  
How she prophesied long time before of the conversion of a gentleman called Francis of Malavolt. Chap. 4.  
How the holy maid made an exhortation to the Carthusian monks: in the which by the spirit of prophecy she touched the most secret defects of diverse and sundry of them very particularly. Chap. 5.  
What a singular grace the holy maid had, not only in seeing the state of their souls, that were present with her, but also in discerning the qualities and conditions of them, that were far from her and in strange countries: with certain other points of like sort worthy to be noted. Chap. 6.  
How the holy maid prayed continually for the state of the Church: and how by prayer she obtained of God the ceasing of two rebellions. Chap. 7.  
How the holy maid obtained by prayer, that she might satisfy the justice of God for the pains due to her father in Purgatory. Chap. 8.  
How the holy maid by prayer brought her mother to life again, and so delivered her from the pains of hell. Chap. 9  
How the holy maid obtained of God by prayer the conversion of two thieves, that were lead to execution. Chap. 10.  
How by the prayer of the holy maid an obstinate sinner was turned to God. Chap 11.  
How the holy maid by prayer procured the conversion of a fierce young gentleman in Sienna called james Tolomes'. Chap. 12.  
How the holy maid by prayer obtained the conversion of a gentleman called Man's. Chap. 13.  
What a wonderful grace the holy maid had in making exhortations and converting souls unto God. Chap. 14.  
How the holy maid meed many goodly Sermons or collations in the presence of Pope Gregory, and afterwards likewise in the presence of Pope Vrbanus and his Cardinals. Chap. 15.  
How the holy maid was sent to Pope Gregory from the Florentines about a treaty of peace: and how she was sent back again with the conditions of peace freely put in her own hand. Chap. 16.  
How the holy maid was sent back from Pope Gregory to the Florentines, with the conditions of peace freely put in her own hand. Chap▪ 17.  
How the holy maid showed herself to be excellently well learned, both by her writings and works set out to the whole world, and also by her conferences and disputations had with certain great learned men. Chap. 18  
A brief repetition or some of many points of heavenly doctrine, revealed unto the holy maid immediately from God. Chap. 19  
A prayer or answer made by a faithful and devout soul to the words of almighty God here before recited. Chap. 20.  
What a sure affiance the holy maid had in the truth of Christ: and how she longed after martyrdom. Chap. 21.  
How the holy maid made a final exhortation to her spiritual children, and so passed out of this life. Chap. 22.     

A TABLE OF THE CHAPTERS CONTAINED IN THE FOURTH PART OF THIS BOOK.  


HOw it pleased our Lord to make the holiness of his spouse known to the world by diverse and sundry evident tokens from heaven. And first, how she spoke certain comfortable words to doctor Raimundus after her departure out of this world. Chap. 1.  
How it pleased God to give a testimony of her holiness in her life time, by an evident miracle wrought at the tomb of S. Agnes. Chap. 2.  
How the holy maid in her life time healed many, that were sick of the plague. Chap. 3.  
How the holy maid healed a great number, that were sick of other diseases after the liker manner. Chap. 4.  
How the holy maid made good bread of fusty and stinking corn: and how she multiplied the same. Chap. 5.  
How the holy maid multiplied bread an other time in Rome for the provisiom of her family. Chap. 6.  
How the holy maid wrought the like miracle in the covent of the friars preachers in Sienna after her departure out of this world. Chap. 7.  
How almighty God caused wine to be found in an empty vessel to the use of the holy maid: and how he caused the same to cease again at her instance. Chap. 8.  
Of a goodly vision, that was showed to a certain devout matron in Rome, at the departure of the holy maid out of this life. Chap. 9  
How the holy maids body lay three days and three nights above the ground unburied: and of a number of miracles, which it pleased our Lord to work in that mean tyme. Chap. 10.  
What miracles almighty God wrought, to honour the holy maid after her burial. Chap. 11.     
The end of the Table.