THE Penitent Bandito: Or the HISTORY Of the Conversion & Death of the most Illustrious Lord Signior Troilo Savelli, a Baron of Rome.  
The second Edition more correct.  
By Sir T. M. Knight.  Matth. 20.16. 
Sic erunt novissimi primi.  
MDCLXIII.   

THE PREFACE.  
THE History following has been translated into divers languages, though not at all into ours, nor yet so carefully, into others, out of the true Original Italian, as I could have wished. The differences between the Copies, which walk up and down the world, are not great; saving that when there is question of truth; and that, concerning a noble subject; and the same, accompanied with variety of natural, and lively circumstances, I cannot find in my heart, to let any difference go for small. I have therefore, at once, taken both pains, and pleasure, to draw store of Copies into my hand, and it has not been without success. For, if I have not laid hold upon the very Original, which was written by the Relator himself; I dare say, I am grown very near it, and that it is precisely true. And this Elogium I will be bold to give the Discourse we have in hand that it has been read in several Countries with extreme avidity. Nay, perhaps there has not issued, in many of these last Ages, any one historical Relation of a particular accident, the consideration whereof, has more often been attended by tears, than this.  

The birth, person, and parts of this Noble Man.  The Person whom it concerns was a Baron of Rome, Sig. Troile Savelli, a branch, sprung up from a root of as noble blood, as a most certain extraction from the ancient Romans, could tell how to make it. His person, and the parts of his generous mind, are best described in the History itself, so that, I will not here, by putting you to pains, prevent the pleasure which there you will have to overtake them. The cause for which he suffered, is not specified there at all; because his ghostly Father was the penner of this Narration; and it became not him, who was the others Judge in foro Conscientiae, to become his Accuser, in foro Curiae. For, though his crimes were extant then, and are so still upon Record; and that the Penitent did besides (for his own greater confusion, and the exaltation of the invincible Patience, and Mercy of Almighty God) give his Ghostly Father express leave, to declare his sins to the whole world; the Father yet, would by no means accept of that liberty; but speaking only, in general, words, of sin at large; he 
(c) The inviolable seal of the Sacrament of Confession; and how tender a good Ghostly Father, is, and aught to be.  buries the particulars in profound silence, and under the seal of Confession, for reverence of that holy Sacrament, which must never upon any terms be defaced.  
But I, who am free, will not consent to have my hands tied up; but think it fit to let you know, that though his years were few, his crimes were great, and many; as still appears upon the Record of his Process. And between the sixteenth, and eighteenth years of his age, (till the former of which times, his vigilant, and holy Mother, was able to keep him in the disciplin● of piety, and virtue) h● sprouted out into great exorbitances; and, in the Company, and at the head of the 
d These are men who for murders, and other extreme insolences use to be banished and proscribed. They were wont in Italy, to go in great troops up and down, and to infest the passages.  Banditi, he committed both Rapes and Murders 〈◊〉 with a most tempestuous 〈◊〉 and transported mind. Omnis inimica amicitia, seducti●mentis investigabilis. He did too early cast himself into the hands of flatterers, and wicked followers; and they made the way of sin so smooth to him, that he could not hold from sliding through it. Nor was his tender youth so innocent, o● his education so excellent but that the moth, and canker of lewd company, did soon corrode it.  
Yet even herein was not his misery so great, as the 
(f) It is proper to God alone, to draw good out of evil.  mercy of God, upon this occasion was infinite. His crimes were not known, but by such alone, as would not easily adventure to draw upon themselves, the displeasure of so great a House as his, by detecting them. The manner only of his life, in respect of excess, and riot, was such, in the exterior, as wounded his noble and tender Mother to the very soul. The passages and proceed whereof, are delivered in the History itself, with so great tenderness, in the person of her son, as striketh the heart of him that reads the words. I will not therefore touch that flower, for fear of striking off the dew, every drop whereof is a pearl. One circumstance only, which is not mentioned there, I will here express, because it will not fail to serve, towards the increase of compassion, in all their minds, who read this story.  
You 
(g) A circumstance of great importance, towards the moving of compassion.  shall therefore understand, that when the Mother had used all other possible endeavours, both divine and humane, for the reduction, and reformation of her son, and all in vain (for aught she was able to perceive) she caused him, for some offences (which yet, were far from being Capital) to be committed to Castle 
(k) This is the chief prison in Rome, as the Tower in London.  S. Angelo, in hope that such a disgrace, with the help of time, would make him return into himself. To this course she was the more encouraged, and in this hope the more confirmed because by this restraint, he might be cut off from that all company, which was the very pest, and poison of his soul. But see, and wonder at God's providence.  
He 
(i) Any little entrance into Public disgrace carries danger with it.  was no sooner in prison, but the fire of eager opposition broke forth of their hearts; whom, by his other more enormous insolences, he had offended; for till then, it had been smothered under the ashes of that respect, and reverence, which they carried towards the Dignity, and Nobility of his House. But now public Justice taking notice of his excesses, and Pope Clement the eight, in the beginning of his Pontificate, being desirous to show a strong example, of what impartial Justice the world was to expect at his hands; (especially in repressing and extinguishing that damned crew of Banditi, who were so pernicious to the state of Italy, and of whom this young Lord was grown a leader) did suffer the Law to pass on his person (for his Estate was not confiscated, but went to his heirs, in blood). Being even yet therein, more just than Clement; though perhaps he would have been more Clement in pardoning than just in punishing, if he could, by way of anticipation, have seen the beauty and bravery of that noble spirit, which deserved to live as long as a world can do, as a pattern of a mind most rarely compounded, between perfect Christian piety, & undaunted incomparable magnanimity.  
But whilst the 
(k) This Lady died in the year 16●1. and was buried on the 21. of Octob. in the Theatines Church at St. Andrea della valle; where she erected ten M●sses to be said every day, for ever. She was of the house of the Dukes of Cesi, and Sister to the Marquis of Riano: Her name was lafoy Signora Plaminia.  Mother and Son are both resting now in peace and glory, as we may piously believe, I know not how, in this particular, to be silent, concerning the powerful, and wise, and infinitely good 
(l) The providence of God, deserves to be deeply pondered, in this particular.  providence of Almighty God, towards both these servants of his. For, by the way of the 
(m) The Cross is the high way to heaven.  Cross, he brought the son, in a few moments of time, to have a Soul in state of great perfection; and he gave him, in the last hours of his life, that most happy kind of Purgatory, wherein he might not only suffer, in satisfaction of the divine Justice, but pass on by merits, (all grounded upon the mercy of Jesus Christ our 
(n) No action of man is meritorious, but by the merits and first mercy of Jesus Christ.  Lord (as all merits are) towards instant, and eternal felicity.  
And this he did, by as contrary means, as in the Gospel he cured a certain Blind man, by 
(o) The omnipotency of God, is not tied to means, but works his will, how he pleases.  casting dirt upon his eyes. For here he used the most indulgent tender care of the Mother, who loved that Son, as her own soul, towards the bringing that about, which was indeed, to make him happy in the end; but in the mean time, was the occasion of his sudden, and reproachful death, whereby her very heart was to be broken. Taking him, so from her sight, that thereby she might enjoy a glorious sight of him for ever; and dep●●ving her of all human comforts (which (for as much as concerned her) were abridged, & locked up in him alone) that so she might, with contempt of the world, send her whole heart up to heaven, whither now her treasure was gone before; and so be rewarded, for that tender and entire care, which she had taken, for his pious education.  
It matters not much, what the blind, and dull world conceives, which placing Faith in fancy, and religious reason in the treacherous sense of flesh & blood, thinks all that to be misery, which carries the face of pain, or shame, or any difficulty; and that true happiness consists in rowing for a while in some boat 
(q) A fit emblem to show the vanity of wotldly pleasure.  of music, down the tide; though it carry them soon after, where they are either to be split upon rocks, or swallowed up by quicksands. Whereas God knows (yea and men, who have his grace, are not ignorant) that a course of felicity not interrupted, or checked by contrary winds, is a kind of fortune (for as much as concerns the next life) which in this deserves rather pity, than envy; and that, ever since the death of Jesus Christ our Lord, the way of the Cross, is 
[r] The Cross of Christ has made misery to become happy.  not only the more safe, but even the more honourable; and that the pleasures, and pastimes of this life, are but a kind of butterfly for boys to play with, and the greatest earthly felicity that ever was enjoyed by man, if it died not as soon as it was born (which yet is the ordinary case of 
(s) Worldly pleasure speaks fair but it lies.  worldly pleasure at least, if it lived till it could learn to speak, it told as many lies, as it uttered words; and charmed them first, whom quickly after, it might lead towards a precipice.  
How desolate, would a worldling think, the case of Signior Troylo Savelli was, in that night when he received the news of his so-instantly-approaching, contumelious death? And of that dear Mother of his, when she heard the blow was given, which parted that head from those shoulders? And 
(t) Affliction, made the Mother, and the Son, seem miserable, and be happy.  yet with all, is it both well known, that the Mother's loss of such a son, did cast her much more close upon an union and sole dependence, for all her comfort, upon Almighty God, (wherein all the happiness, we can have in this life consists) and it is morally certain, that the abundant grace of Contrition, and Charity, which God infused into the heart of the Son, even by the occasion of his very sins (so vastly and infinitely good is God) did put him instantly, after his death, into a state so blessed, as that the Pope himself, under whom he died, & those Princes among whom he lived, and all the Monarches of the whole world, may be accounted miserable, according to their present state, in respect of him. Our dear Lord Jesus, be eternally praised (and not only by us, who know not how to do it well, but by all his holy Angels & Saints) for his own infinite goodness; since he vouchsafes to 
(u) He could easily honour himself otherwise, without any benefit to us, if he were so pleased.  place the point of his honour, in showing mercies, and working wonders upon man so instantly, so sweetly, so powerfully, and so like a God. And for having suffered, in his own sacred soul, & body, such desolations, and torments, as obtained, at the hands of the eternal Father, not only the remission of our sins, (if we will serve ourselves of the Sacraments, and other remedies, he has left in the bosom of his holy Catholic Church) but the adorning also of our Souls with the inherent gifts, and graces of the holy Ghost. And yet further, for that he has known, how to make our very sins, and grievous crimes themselves, the means, sometimes, whereby we obtain greater graces, than 
x This indeed is a mercy, which may well become the greatness of our God.  we should have done, if we had not committed those very sins. Let the whole world therefore adore thee, O Lord, and sing praises to thee; and let all the powers of all souls cry out, and say with that holy King, and Prophet David, O Lord who is like to thee?  
A great example, and proof of this power of God, and of the divinity of Christ our Lord, and the need of a great proportion of stupidity, to make him think, that, since God himself vouchsafed to be at the command of those base and impure wretches, who too● off his , and require● him to submit himself t● those scourges, those thorn● those nails, those blasphemies, for our sakes, and sins yet, on the other side, thi● 
b An ugly and abominable presumption.  man, this proud rebellious worm, this crumb o● dust, this drop of filth might keep, forsooth, a kin● of State, and should no● rather submit himself (i● imitation of the humility only to superiors, but t● equals, and even inferiors also, and in fine to al●● 
c This is the advice of S. Peter Subditi estote omini creaturae.  the world when just occasion should be offered.  
The soul of this noble man, was so well softened, and sweetened by the unction of the Holy Ghost; as that neither the greatness of his Nobility, nor the ardour of his youth, nor the natural boiling courage of his heart, nor the fresh memory of his prosperity, nor the unexpected arrival of his misery, could make 
d A heart truly touched by God's holy spirit, will overcome strange difficulties.  him once repine, or keep him from instantly abasing himself. But falling deeply upon the consideration of his sins; and weighing duly how full of demerit he was, in the fight of God; and knowing exactly, that nothing is so truly ignoble, as a Soul which has forfeited his grace; and that rich, or poor, is little to the purpose; but 
e wherein eternal, true Nobility consists.  that the thing which imports, is to be, or not to be, the servant, or son of God; it is not strange, to see him east himself at the feet of common soldiers, and stretch out his hands, with such meekness, at the will of the meanest Jailers, for the love of our Lord, to signify thereby the detestation wherein he had himself, for having so presumptuously offended that Eternal Majesty, which by all the Angels is adored.  
From 
f The reasons why be was so frequent in confessing h●s sins.  hence also did it proceed, that he so frequently confessed himself, in that last night of h●s life; and could never think he had sufficiently deplored his errors, and detested the discorrespondence, and ingratitude, wherewith he had answered the unspeakable benefits of Almighty God. Wherein if any man should think he used excess, it will be much more lawful for me to doubt, that himself, either has a mean conceit of the Infinite Majesty which is offended, or an ignorant apprehension of the deformity of all sin which is committed; or a proud, and paltry mistaking of the Nothing which man was, till he was created; and the worse than Nothing, which afterward he grew, by sinning. For 
g If you weigh these things well, you will change your wondering at him, into wondering at yourself.  he that ponders these particulars, as he ought, and knows, that the offences into which he falls are innumerable; and that the least of them, which is committed against an Infinite Majesty, in respect of the object, is also infinite; and that, as no one good deed shall be unrewarded, by the rich Mercy of God, in Christ our Lord; so no one transgression shall be left unpunished, by his exquisite Justice, will easily believe that in the space of a night, it is hard for one to be too curious, and too careful, in setting strait the account of his whole life, under the piercing eye of Almighty God. But this Baron did, even by moments, in that short time which was left, by the goodness of God, acquire choir new 
h Great light of God is wont to breed great love of him, & great sorrow, for having so shame fully offended him.  light, and gain new love of our Lord, and new contempt, and detestation of himself; and, in the strength thereof, found some actions to confess, which he had not conceived to be sins before; and others, which he had confessed, he had done it with a sorrow, far inferior to that he then felt.  
For, abstracting from the consideration which he had of his sins, against God (in respect whereof, no soul is sufficiently able to quake, and tremble under him) I trust there is not a Readers eye in the world so dim, as not to discern his undaunted heart. And 
i The undaunted courage of this Baron.  that, no thought of death, had any power, to take the least clarity from his understanding; the least presence from his memory; the least agility from his wit; the least order from his speech; or so much as the least puntillio from the civil respects and compliments, which are used among persons of his Nation, and Condition. Nor yet, on the other side, shall any man have reason to think, that the punctuality, which (throughout the process of this Relation) he shall find to have been observed by the Baron, in this last 
k This courtesy and compliment was not affected, but free and natural.  kind of courtesy, did proceed from the least affectation of it. Perhaps, if we look near home, we may find some example to have been given of this, not long ago; but in the present case, no suspicion of it can be entertained; both for many other reasons, which will occur to him that reads the Relation; and because (as I said before) these exact terms of Honour, and other respects to the company, then present, are as it were natural to men of his country, and quality, and there would cost them more pains to omit (unless their minds were put into disorder, by some passion) than it would cost others, to observe where they were not so natural, as being learned by industry, and Art. But yet, that in so sad a case, this man, would, for good manners, forbear to set up his legs, or not so much, as stretch himself in the sight of others, though his body did much incline him to it (according to that mention which the Relation makes thereof) may well go for a great argument in him, of civility, of modesty, and of magnanimity.  
And this is that which I thought fit to represent to you by way of Preface to this Story. You will find the traces and footsteps of putting men to death, and the proceed against 
l The several manners of treating Delinquents in several Countries  Delinquents, to be very different, from that of our Country, both in relation to the body, and the soul. I take not upon me, to say which are better, & which are worse. With us, the Process of criminal persons, is ever made, in the face of the world; but they are not suffered to have any Advocates who may defend their causes. In most other Countries, the Delinquents are permitted to have Advocates but the Process is made, though in public Court, yet only in presence of the judges and some few Advocates, and Officers. With us, the Delinquents are suffered to live some days after their condemnation; which certainly is meant in compassion to them; in other parts, after they are judged to die, and that it is so declared, they think they do men a greater courtesy, in putting them quickly out of pain. With us, there is no difference in the manner of death, between a Clown, and the best Gentleman of the Kingdom, under the degree of a Baron, unless it be, in some very rare case, by most particular favour of his Majesty, but in all other places, that I have seen, all Gentlemen are beheaded, to distinguish them from such as are ignoble. With us, no indignity is ever done to a Noble man of 
m such as Barons are, and all above them.  Title, by binding his hands, or arms, or the like; and that custom I commend, as full of Honour; but in many other places, they bear no such respect; in regard of the experience which they have found, and the fear, which still they are in, of insolences.  
But for as much, as concerns the comfort of criminals, in the preparation of their souls, towards the death of their bodies, I cannot but note it, as a point of charity, and piety most 
n It is the greatest charity, to help men to die well.  remarkable, that in very many of the good Towns of Italy and Spayn, there are certain Companies or Confraternities, of Gentlemen, well born and bred; who put this obligation of duty upon themselves, to visit the prisons, especially in the night precedent to any execution. And, together with Religious persons, and Ghostly Fathers, they watch, and pray, and exhort, and comfort the poorest criminals of the Country, with the same industry, and charity, which is here afforded to this Noble man; And they all acompany them, to their death; and sometimes, discharge their dying hearts of care, either by undertaking to pay some of their debts, or by assisting the poor wife, and children, which are left behind; or by obliging themselves to get 
o S. Monica upon the point of her death, desired St. Austin her Son to pray for her soul at the Altar, when she should be dead: & so he did. Vid. Conf. l. 9 cap. 11. & 13.  Masses celebrated for their souls. And in conformity of these good endeavours, we see men die in those parts, with another manner of disposition towards God, than usually they have with us; Where it is a lamentable thing, to see many of so profane stupidity, that, after lives most lewdly led, they go either drunk, or dancing to the Gallows. As if, they were but to die in a Play; or as if, after this life, there were no immortality of the Soul; or else, at least, no account to be rendered; I say not of idle words (which yet must be done, but of most wicked deeds, whereof many of them are guilty.  
The example we have here in hand, will yield, all the Readers of it in general, a good lesson of Humility, Patience, Courtesy, Magnanimity, Obedience, and Charity. And 
p All sorts of people may profit, by the good lessons here delivered.  it may serve for an instruction, not only to such as die, by the hand of humane Justice; but to all those also, who are to die by the hand of God, as we all shall be sure enough to do. That so, we may the better take heed of sin, which is to be so bitterly bewailed; and the more deeply we are fallen into it, the more instantly we must implore the mercy and goodness of Almighty God; and dispose our selus to the doing of Penance; that so, by his favour, we may secure our souls from the danger of being plunged into that lake of eternal pain. This lesson I say, may reach to all Readers in general. But particular Readers may take out particular lessons for themselves. The Mother will admonish Mothers to be incessantly careful for their Children; the Son will conjure children from being insolent, or disobedient towards their Parents; and the 
q These are they who comfort the Delinquents in their death.  Confortatori will exhort all men to show charity to their distressed neighbours. And I beseech our Lord Jesus, to grant such graces both to them and me, as divine Majesty knows to be most needful for us,  
T. M.   

THE HISTORY OF THE CONVERSION and DEATH Of the Most ILLUSTRIOUS LORD SIGNIOR TROILO SAVELLI, Who was beheaded in Rome, in the Castle Sant Angelo, on the 18. of April, 1592.  
THE Writing the lives or deaths of others, if they be full of extraordinary accidents, does usually make the Readers wonder; if they be dolorous they cause compassion; if prosperous, men grow thereby into a desire; if adverse, into a fear. But this death, which now I am about to deliver, does-so embrace the accidents of all these kinds; that whoever shall read it, as he ought, will 
(a) The power which this discourse, will have over many affections, all at once.  easily perceive his mind to be filled at once, with all those affections. And though, what I writ, be, in fine, no more than a mere Relation of a Noble man's death, yet perhaps it may serve for a guide and example of men, through the whole course of their lives,  
I will nakedly therefore, declare the progress, and period of this accident, as, in the night when it happened, I went observing it place by pace, to the comfort of mine own Soul. For 
(b) This Relation is purposely written in a natural, and plain manner.  here, all affectation, and ornament of speech, would but profane the majesty of the thing; and no endeavour or strife of wit, would ever arrive to the expression of it. I will direct it only to those, who, if perhaps they have not personal and proper experience, of the admirable effects of God's grace; at least they will either have believed them of others, or read of them in good books, or heard them often delivered by Preachers. For, as to such, who are mere strangers thereunto, these things will seem incredible. Though even by such, they may yet be thought the more probable, when at length they shall understand, that at the instance of his excellent Mother, one of the Fathers 
(c) These are the good Priests of the Oratory, instituted by that great servant of God, B. Philip Neraeus.  of the Chiesa nova, had, with most diligent, and devout charity, exercised his life, for the space of a month, in spiritual things, whose conversion and death I have undertaken to describe; and whatsoever effect it may have, more or less, I will be sure to write it for the benefit of souls, and upon no other motive.  
It was then, upon the 17. of April at 
(d) This might be about eleven of the clock at night, after our account.  four hours of the night, of that Friday, when the news was brought to the Lord Troilo Savelli of his death, by an inferior Officer; Who coming to that chamber, where the Noble man was at his rest, said to him in this manner: Your Lordship may be pleased to rise and apparel yourself. Whereunto he answered: This indeed is an hour, which has a little of the unseasonable; but yet whither wilt thou conduct me? The fellow told him, That place was to be made ready for new Prisoners; so devising this excuse, that he might not fright him all at once. I believe (says the young Lord) what thou hast told me; but I confess, thou madest me half afraid; and then, sitting up in his bed, he said, Let us apparel ourselves, in the name of God.  
Having begun to put on his , as he was descending from his bed, Give me leave, saith he, for so long, as that I may be ready. And so, casting an earnest countenance towards a little picture of our B. Lday, with Christ in her arms (which there he had of purpose) he recommended himself in great earnest to the mercy of Jesus and in ercession of his Mother, as afterward he related to me. And the same night (some hour before the arrival of this news) he had raised himself out of his bed; and (kneeling down before that 
(e) He prayed before the Picture, but he prayed to the B. Virgin to pray for him; and he thought it no ill way to go by the M there to the Son, as the Fathers, & Saints of God's Church had done before him.  Picture) he said, with abundant tears, O blessed and glorious Virgin, O that I might die, if die I must, with this very disposition, which now I find in my heart. He told me, that the same night, when first he went to bed, he did, in a manner, assure himself his life would be saved; but that yet, more suddenly than he ever used, he risen up, and could not hold from discharging his heart towards his dear Redeemer and the blessed Virgin. This was an ordinary use of his, as afterward those soldiers, under whose custody he was, related to me; for they often feigning not to see him, did many times perceive, that by stealth he cast himself, upon his knees.  
As soon as he was apparelled, the Officer returning, and doubting, lest (by reason of his fresh youth, being encountered with such a terrible, and sudden accident) he might, through a kind of despairful rage, either do hurt to himself, or others, would needs, upon a sudden, cast the manacles upon his hands; but gently stretching them out; My friend, 
(f) his early, and humble resignst●on.  saith he, behold, I am here ready to obey thy will, and the will of all the world, since the will of God is such. Having manacled him, they lead him towards the Chapel; when, at the issue out of his chamber, he blessed 
(h) He armed himself with the sign of the holy Cross. Ad omnem actum, ad omnem incessum manus ping●t Crutem. Hier. epist. ad Eustach. 22. cap. 36.  himself, the best he could with the sign of the holy Cross, with both his hands; and casting up his eyes to Heaven, he profoundly sighed. For, seeing perhaps, that there were more people, then might be needful for the changing of his Lodging, This, saith he, is another manner of business, then to change me only, from one place to another; but by the grace of God, I am ready for all.  
Thus, silently going down to the Chapel, he was met by the 
(i) There are Congregations of Gento in R●me (as the●e are also in other great Cities of Italy and Spain) who employ themselves for the helping condemned men, to die well. The Governor & Proveditore are chief officers of these Congregations.  Governor, and the Proveditore, and by three others of them, who are called Confortatori della misericordia, in a fashion, very suitable to the occasion. Then one of them said to him in this manner: My Lord, the hour which God has prefixed for you, is even run out; render yourself into his merciful hands. And he, without being troubled, otherwise, then by fetching a sigh, (which yet was both soft and short) did answer thus; Let God be blessed; behold I render myself to him; and dispose you of me. And so those good and charitable Brothers of that Congregation, with some Fathers of the Society of Jesus, casting themselves round about him, and endeavouring to sweeten the bitterness of that news, by discreet and decent means, did comfort him the best they could. He yielded to all, and did even prevent them; and then, knocking his breast, and bowing down his head, and kissing the Crucifix, he demanded pardon, and like gentle wax, suffered himself to be managed by them all.  
One of those Confortatori, did, before all other things, put him in mind of making his Confession. Upon the very first naming whereof (recollecting himself) he said, And 
(k) The first thing he did, was to confess himself.  where is the Confessor? And they showing him a Priest of their Company, with his Albe 
(l) These are some of the sacerdotal vestments which are used in celebrating Divine Service.  upon his back, and his Stole about his neck, (that afterward he might say Mass, in the proper time) the first thing he did, was to be confessed; and we all went out, to leave the place free to them.  
He being confessed, and we returned, we began to dispose him towards a good end, by divers spiritual exercises, fit for that purpose. And after many had spoken, I also began thus to say; Signior Troilo, This is that passage, which whoever does once make well, acquires eternal felicity; and if once it be ill made, it draws after it everlasting misery. It now imports your Lordship to make it well, that you may escape that eternity of torment. This passage is narrow, uneven, hard, and full of stones, and thorns; all the world sees it, and your Lordship finds it by experience; but 
(m) Our Lord Jesus, doth even the uneven way of death.  behold sweet Jesus, who, by his goodness, will even it all. Cast yourself, my Lord, upon him; and than you, will be able to say with courage, Omnia 
(n) I can do all things in h●m that comforts me.  Possum, in co qui me comfortat.  
He answered thus, with a cheerful, and even smiling countenance, Omnia possum in eo qui me comfortat. By the mercy of my deer Jesus, I know the necessity of making this passage well; I acknowledge his providence over me, and to his providence I add, that of his love. For as much as with extraordinary love it is, that he has brought me hither. I see it, I confess it. And how often, dear Father, have I been, as I may say, in the very jaws of death; which, if at that time it had seized me, infallibly this soul, and body of mine had perished. Behold 
(o) He acknowledges, and accents of God's providence, with great alacrity.  the cunning of my Christ to save me, he has made choice of this way. And then bowing, and bearing his head, and, with great life of spirit, raising himself from his chair, he further added; I accept of this election which God has made; and then casting himself upon his knees, before the Altar, Nay I thank thee (says he) O my good Father, for thy so faithful, and loving care of me; who have not only been a wand'ring, but a contumacious Son of thine. To thee it belongs, to smooth and even the ru●godness of this way; since thou hast been pleased to address me by it.  
And so, bowing his face even almost down to the ground, he remained a while, in mental Prayer.  
Being therefore wished to sit down, he was scarce settled in that posture, when turning towards me, he said thus, in mine ear: You, whom, through my good fortune, I have here, to help me, in this so weighty and high affayr, in the place of God do you command me. I 
(p) I●e gives himself away to his Ghostly Father.  give myself, as bound into your hands. The Prince has disposed of my body; do you as much with my soul. I said therefore to him: I first desire, my Lord, that you make the protestation 
(q) This is a declaration of h●s faith with an entire submission to the good will of God.  which is wont to be delivered by such as are going to God. Which being publicly pronounced by him, with great sense and spirit, (he taking up and repeating my words) I advised him further thus: You shall now make all those acts of Contrition, which I shall call to your mind; having the eyes thereof, first bend upon God, being offended, as a Creator, as a Preserver, as a justifier, and as a Glorifier. Next, upon you self, who have offended him; being his creature, his househould servant, his Christian slave; and one so deeply obliged, by this benefits. Thirdly, upon the offences themselves which you have committed; and be sorry at your hart, for having committed them; and 
(r) For who can ever call to mind all his particular sins  if not in particular for them all, at least for the 
(s) He had already confessed his sins; and now he is but exhorted to renew his sorrow for them.  most grievous of them, which shall represent themselves to your memory. Fourthly, upon the good you have omitted; and the time you have lost; and the years you have misspent. Fifthly, upon the scandal you have given. And if any thing more be to be done, if 
(t) We cannot be saved unless first we make restitution, as well of fame, as ●f goods, if ●●ly● in our pow●●  to make restitution, either of fame, or goods▪ if to pardon others, or to ask pardon yourself; restore and pardon, and ask pardon. If to perform any vows, or fulfil any promises; perform and fulfil them. Or finally, if you leave any debts, or if you will make any signification of your repentance, and pious end, you are now to put your hand to work.  
To these things he offered himself most readity, and did execute them all with so great devotion, that ev●ry one now began to change his stile in speaking to him; For finding, that whereas before they thought they should have to do but with a young man, or rather a youth, and weakling, 
(u) He infinitely overcame their expectation.  they were now to treat with a manly, generous, and ripe Christian, far superior to that, which might peradventure have been expected of him; One of the Confortatori began, with great discretion, to discourse upon the horror of Death, which our most sweet Christ Jesus did, by his agony, dispossess of bitterness. Confi e, saith he, and cast your thoughts upon him, and say, Pone 
(x) Place me, O Lord, nearthee, and let the hand of any other fight against me.  me Domine juxtate, & cujusvis manus pugnet contrame. And if now you find any bitter taste in death, during this short night, as without fail you will, say, 
(y) O my Father, not as I will, but as thou wilt, thy will be done.  Pater mi, non sicut ego volo, sed sicut tu, fiat voluntas tua.  
The contrite Lord made answer thus, the wickedness of my life frights me, more, than the bitterness of my death. Oh how wretchedly have I spent these eightein years? How ill have I understood my Saviour? How ungrateful have I been for his noble favours? How rebelliously have I lived against his laws? And how have I run like a wild, unbridled horse, in these later years of mine, without any manner of restraint, wheresoever the present occasions, or conversations, or 
(z) The sinner, is only to blame himself for having sinned.  rather (for I have said ill) wheresoever mine own passions, and blind affections had a mind to plunge me? It is I, and none but I, who did precipitate myself; and yet you bid me six my thoughts, and hopes upon God; and say, Pone me, Domine, juxta te, & cujusvis manus pugnet contra me, fiat voluntas tua.  
Upon this, another of the Confortatori proceeded thus: It is an act of magnanimity, not to fear the angry face of death; and of humility, to acknowledge our offences; but of confidence to hope for pardon, as your Lordship doth; who well may say, Propter nomen tuum Domine, propitiaberis peccato meo, multum est enim. For thy name's sake, O Lord, thou shalt forgive my sin, for it is great. O how great, said Signior Troilo? Even as great, after a manner, as is the mercy of God, which is immense.  
The Proveditore then said; Your Lordship, may, if you be so pleased, make your last Will, and Testament; to the end no other thought may sollitcie you, but that of your soul.  
Hereupon the Baron, without the least delay, by way of answer, bade them write. And, having taken out of his pocket, a little note, which he carried about him, he suddenly dictated his Testament; wherein he delivered some particulars, in my opinion, very considerable. First, 
(a) The considerations which may be made upon the manner of penning his Will.  of tender Devotion; for he recommended his soul to God, by most dear and religious words. Secondly, of Ripeness, which was more than of a young man; because, in a most particular mann●r, he had remembrance of all his servants. Thirdly, of a most lively Contrition; because, with a most Profound, internal affection of mind, he demanded pardon of many, even by name. Fourthly, of great Magnanimity; because he conjured the Lady his Mother, that she would pardon all his adversaries, as he himself did pardon them a thousand times over. Beseeching 
(b) what a true, and noble Christian heart was this?  her, by a long, and christian circuit of words, that she would never resent his death; but he laid the fault upon himself, in all things.  
Fiftly, of Religious Piety; leaving large alms to many Churches, and other holy places; accommodating many poor 
(c) This is a devotion, and charity, much used in Italy.  Virgins, with dowryes, at the particular discretion, and to be performed by the care of his heirs; that God might the rather have mercy on him. Sixtly, of entire justice; because he took care, that even more than was due by him, should be restored. Seaventhly, of noble Gratitude; because he rewarded whosoever had done him any service in prison. Eighthly, of affectionate Reverence; because he did in a most sweet, and dear manner, ask pardon of the Lady his Mother, and the rest of his kindred, besides the expressing of other compliments.  
Having ended his last Will, Well Sirs (saith he) behold we have this residue of time, now wholly free, for the care of our soul. And turning towards me, said, It 
(d) He speaks of his soul, for as much as concerned the guiding of it, under God.  is in your hand, and therefore dispose of it; for this only is now in my power to give you. I then, by way of answer, said, Give yourself, my Lord, to JESUS. I do so, said he; and he said it instantly. And I again, Give yourself wholly to him. He said, I do. Consecrate yourself; he still said, I do. Make yourself, said I, entirely his. But how (saith he) O Father, shall I make myself entirely his, if I be unworthy, and perhaps his 
(e) As all grievous sinners are, if they do not throughly repent, which no man can be sure he hath sufficiently done, though he may have great hope of it.  enemy? But in the mean time, whilst the Will was writing, he that wrote it put us in mind, it was to be publicly read; that so it might be closed up with a due 
(f) A Testament is not valid there, if it have not seven witnesses at least.  number of witnesses. And whilst this was in doing, that is, whilst the Notary was reading it; three things of some consideration did occur. The first, that when he read how he recommended his soul to God, My body, says he, (drawing near me, according to his custom) I dispose not of; for now, it is no longer mine. It once was mine, and I would it had not been so; but 
(g) He acknowledges the providence and justice of God in all things.  it is more than reason, that I, having had so great care of it, in my life time, for my punishment, should not be suffered, to have any power over it, now in my death. Let them therefore do with it what they will; for I sacrifice it to God whatsoever it is. Father, will not such an Oblation as this do me good? It will, said I, without doubt it will: and what 
(h) For he that gives his body, shows in good earnest, that he has already given his soul.  more acceptable oblation can be made to our Lord, than that of the body? The second, That when the Legacies were read, it being observed, by the manner of expressing one of them, that he delivered himself as faulty, in a certain thing, wherein indeed he was not so; and therefore the Will was to be redressed, as I desired, which served not only, (as before) for securing his conscience, but for the saving also of his honour. Upon this, putting off his Montiera, or cap, O Father, saith he, (and he did it half smiling) are you now taking care of my reputation, and of the puntillios of Honour, and of that smoke or vanity of the world? Let my soul be saved, and let all the vain Honour perish, which I either had, or might have had. Do you not remember that which even 
(i) This is not mentioned here before; For he said many other things which are not mentioned in this short Relation.  now you said, Mihi mundus 
(k) The world is crucified to me, and I to it.  crucifixus est, & ego mundo. In a word, let not the Soul be touched, but let my Honour be blasted, according to that account, which the blind world is wont to make of Honour; that it may serve as a part of the punishment, which is due to me. The Third, that at the same instant, his hat was brought him; and one of his people, being desirous to take his Montiera from off his head, what are you doing saith he? They answered, they would give him his hat. But he bade them let it alone, saying, it imported not; and he added, with a soft voice, Look here a while, they would fain honour this head of mine, which I am to lose, within few hours, for my sins.  
The Will being then read, and closed up, he threw himself, as it were upon me, with a most modest kind of sweetness, and said, Father I am already reconciled; but I would fain make a general Confession of my whole life, to your Reverence. And though, since I came into prison, I did the same, in effect, at the instance of my Lady-Mother; yet know, I had then no light, or feeling of my sins, in respect of that, I now discover in my heart. It being One thing, dear Father, for a man to confess himself, when be is in the sight of death; and another, to do it not thinking of death; or at least but considering it, as afar off. And so, calling for a 
(l) There are little books, of address, whereby men are taught how to confess their sins exactly.  little book, which he had obove in the prison, showing the way, how to confess one's exactly well (which his good MOTHER had brought him some days before) he began his Confession; Wherein, my Lord God knows, that, as it is lawful for me, by that ample authority, himself gave me, to declare as much thereof, as I should think fit; so if I were able to express it, I say not, that Rome would be astonished at it, but all Italy would be so. For if I speak of the exact manner he held; for as much as concerned the particular descending even to idle words, and any other 
(m) Confession is no such cursory or superficial thing, as they who know it not, conceive, and say.  such peccadillo, methought I was hearing some well exercised Religious man. In the explicating of circumstances, and the unfolding of intricate and entangled cases, it was, as if he had been some profound Divine. In relating the determinate number, and the various kinds of his sins, he made proof of one, who had a most fresh, and happy memory.  
This rare Gentleman, pausing now and then, between the Confession of his sins; and suffering certain tears to fall quietly upon my knees, would be wiping them away: and that being done, he would often say with sighs, O Father, how 
(n) He had great reason to say so.  good has our Lord been to me? Let him now be blessed, as often, and yet more often, than I have offended him, in my former life. Whilst he was accusing himself of his faults, he would express them in certain few, but those all lively, and most pious words; and in some particular eases, so dearly tender, that in his countenance, one might see evident signs how his very heart was even rend within. So that between 
(o) He paused sometimes, both to rest himself, and to recall his sins, more freshly to his memory; for though it were interrupted, it was all but one Confession, till Absolution was given.  the times of his Confession, the Confortatori (doubting left perhaps he might incline to faint) would be ask him, if he needed not somewhat to restore, and comfort himself. To which he answered, (speaking privately, and more than once to me) This 
(p) An admirable Con●r●tion.  only comfort, or restorative I would desire, That my very heart might burst for grief, and satisfaction might so be 
(q) To the justice of God; his sorrow being dignified by the death and passion of Jesus Christ our Lord.  given, for my sins, if perhaps even that, would serve the turn.  
But forasmuch as, to my thinking, he did melt as it were, by so enlarging himself in his Confession, I had an eye upon him, and I ventured to say thus to him. My dear Signior Troilo, be not so excessively curious, and particular, in accusing yourself; especially of those your former sins, whichly not now upon your soul. O 
(r) See how truly this heart was touched with sorrow for his sins, and the knowledge of himself.  Father (said he) I have wasted my whole life, in offending God; and will you have me, or shall I content myself, in one single hour, to demand pardon for so many offences? So long in sinning, and so short in confessing my sins? That I am troublesome to you, my dear Father, I well discover; but how can I help it, if I be forced to it? And here again, he began to make for himself, a very bath of tears. And, interpreting what I had said, after his own conceit, he added, with ●ears redoubled, And this also do my sins deserve, by way of punishment, that, having cast so much, so very much time away, in prejudice of my salvation, I should now want time, wherein I might even confess my sins. Pardon me, dear Father, and endu e this trouble, for the love of God; for you shall 
(s) To do a good work by the grace, and for the love of God, is meritorious; for so Christ our Lord hath made it.  merit, in his sight, by helping this poor soul of mine, towards salvation; and I will remain with obligation to you, when I shall go by the mercy of God▪ and your good means, into the place of rest. And finding that his tears still increased, I confess my weakness was such, that I could not contain myself from expressing also a tenderness by tears.  
As soon as he perceived this, he said; Father, your Reverence weeps, yet you weep not for yourself, but for me; and yet you will not have me weep for myself. But then, both of us being silent for a time, he after, began again to confess, with those accustomed short words, but full of substance, and propriety; making me write down all those things he confided to me, for the discharge of his conscience. Whilst I was writing, he would needs for his contentment hold the Standish, in his own hands, and read those lines, when I had done, and kiss them, and then bathe them in tears.  
But of nothing did he accuse himself so much, as of all that, which had any relation to the Lady, his Mother. Nor am I able by any means to express, with what abundance of tears he accompanied those accusations of himself. For, beginning even from his very Infancy, Father, (saith he) I 
(t) A large expression of the unspeakable grief he had, for his disobedience and ingratitude to the Lady his Mother.  have committed many offences against God, yet at this time, methinks, I am not so much afflicted for any thing, as for not having known, how to serve myself of that tender love, and prudence, and patience, which my Lady Mother expressed, in the education of me. For even when I was yet a child, she gave me in charge to certain learned and religious Preceptors; who till I arrived to have sixteen years of age, did with great fidelity, and sufficiency, teach me, not only the literature of Humanity, but Philosophy also. And they further shown how I was to address myself towards piety, by their good example, and advice. Nor yet content with this; how solicitous was she also, to procure by many other means, that I might proceed, both in Learning, and Virtue? For 
u See here the Image of a holy and tender hearted mother.  concerning that of Learning, she gave me store of books, of time, of opportunity, and a thousand tender favours, which were convenient for those years of mine. And for the inducing me to Virtue, she addressed me to choice of good Conversations, spiritual Discourses, excellent Sermons, and Persons, who might from time to time give me counsel. Commanding, and causing me to be lead to Confession; not only upon all the principal Feasts of the year, but once also every month.  
And, till this very time, when I am speaking to your Reverence, you may (if you will take the pains) find, among my papers, most evident testimonies of what I am now saying; and especially 
x Note her diligences for the pious education of her son.  a short manner of Instruction, how to spend the whole day well. The things besides whereof she did admonish me, were, in a manner, infinite. When I was yet a little one, she kept me in awe, by threats, yea and by strokes sometimes; and when I was grown elder, she endeavourd to do it, by the fair means of requests and promises; and oftentimes, with so many tears, as that now, they are as many lances to pass through my my heart. She likewise procured that 
y Blessed Philippo Neri, was his Godfather, at Confirmation. The Chiesa Nuova was a new Church, then and now belonging to the fathers of the Oratory of jesus, whence they are called O●atorians.  blessed man Philippo, of the Chiesa nuova to assist, & bold me, when I was confirmed; and that afward I should make particurar friendship with him.  
She kept me far off from looking upon ill examples; and held me near herself, after the manner, as I may say, of a Religious life; exhorting me often day and night that I would live Nobly, 
z True Christianity, is true Nobilily.  and like a Christian. Nor did that blessed mouth of hers, ever cease to say, Troilo, my Son, fear God, and love God. To this end she took upon her, the government of all my 
(a) Castello in Italian, signifies both the mansion house, and the Town, or village belonging to it.  Castles; and the care of all my affairs; living in a continual state of, between hope and fear of the proof I should make. Nor was there a Religious House, or Monastery, to the prayers whereof, she recommended me not. Nor came there any Religious persons to her, nor did she meet with any abroad, to whom, all forgetful of herself, she would not say, Pray 
(b) Some body prayed so well for him, as to make him a Sa●nt.  for my Son.  
And I, ungrateful to her so great benefits, when I grew to have sixteen years of age, did render her so ill payment, for such a huge sum of love; as that I even parted house with her, & did outrage her, both by words and deeds; in such sort, as that the uttermost of all punishment, seems a hundred times less to me, than my demerit▪ And when, dear Father, I think upon the tears she was ever shedding for me both by day, and in those nights, so sadly spent, and on the agonies she suffered upon my occasion, I find contentment, in that I am to die, whereby, me thinks, I may, in part, overshaddow so many of my lewd behaviours,  
Neither 
(c) The invincible love of this Mother, to her Son.  yet, after I had separated myself from her, did she give over to solicit me with notes, and letters, and messages, and a thousand other inventions, that I would be induced to retire myself from vicious conversations; and she would p●●y me, & importune me, and conjure me, that I would take to good. And well I know, that no kind of devotion was omitted by her, for my reformation, by visiting both as many Churches, and Religious persons, as she knew in Rome.  
In fine, she came often to me, both by day and night, whilst I was wandering up and down in such company: and 
(d) It seems▪ to have been a kind of strife and war; between how kind, a Mother could tell how to be, and how unkind a Son.  when she found me out, she would cast herself, even at my feet, that so I might once be drawn to open mine eyes, and consider the precipice I was approaching; and the ruins besides the Shame, that would inevitably come upon me; and that I would return to Christ; and once truly weigh (for these were her very words) whose Son I was; and that I would consider, what thing that was, which had ever been wanting to me, whereby in that desperate fashion, I should abandon all care of my Estate, Life, and Honour. And usually she accompanied these admonitions, and requests of hers, with most tender tears.  
Sometimes again, she would turn aside, and, casting up her eyes to God, beseech him, either to convert me, or else 
(e) Her prayer was heard in a better though in another manner than she most desired  to take me to himself. And this I can say with all truth, that from the very beginning, to this instant, wherein now I l●ve, she has never ceased to endeavour my salvation. For even from the first time she 
(f) She was in Rome at his commitment, but when she saw how the World would go with him sheretired thence, with her load of sorrow.  came to see me here in prison, she exhorted me to Confession, and ever since, she has come, as thick as hail upon me, sometimes with Religious men, and sometimes with pious Books. So long, as that now at last, I am, by the favour of God, returned a little into myself. And, besides the cutting off all occasions of doing ill, she gave me many great opportunities of good, with fervent exhortations, that I would restore myself, to the service of God.  
Nor could ever any Son desire any favour, or contentment of a Mother, which mine did not, of herself, impart to me. And I, on the other side, have served, but to make her life most unfortunate, by this period of mine. I beseech our Lord forgive me, and to receive the future affliction of her heart, in present discount of my offences.  
Then towards the end of his Confession; I desire (said he) a favour of you now, dear Father, which you must not deny me. It is, that I may have liberty to lament my sins with tears; and that, by them, I may give testimony to the Divine Majesty, of the 
(g) That so the penitent himself by finding it, might have increase of comfort  grief, wherewith my heart abounds within. Weep out, said I, since our Lord gives you such a desire of weeping.  
I had scarce brought forth this last word, when already, there began to fall a most abundant shower of tears from his eyes; in such sort, 
(h) An admirable and almost miraculous Contrition.  as that he bathed a good part of one of my arms; and my sleeve was as wet through, as if it had reigned from above. Which accident I observing, after some half quarter of an hour, and doubting, lest his heart might so discharge itself by his eyes, rather for the apprehension he might have of death, than otherwise; I desired, that, for the love of Jesus, he would quiet himself, and not multiply his affliction, nor continue to torment his mind, in that manner. To this he answered; Father, I give you my faith, that I do not, at all, bewail my death; but I do only, and purely, lament the offences I have committed against Almighty God. And 
(i) A happy conjunction of Christian sorrow, with noble courage.  I have so much hope in the mercy of my dear Lord, that not only I shall shed no tears for my death, but not so much as change my countenance. Father, I bewail my most unfortunate life, and not my most happy death. That life was, indeed, most unfortunate; whereas this death is most happy; for in fine, if in that, I lived an enemy to God, I hope, in this, I shall die his friend.  
Well then, said I, proceed in your Confession, that so you may die the friend of God▪ and lay a part of your tears aside the while. Whereupon, the most obedient young Gentleman, accommodating himself to my direction, did proceed just where he had left.  
At this I wondered so much the more; for as much as I myself had forgotten it, though I also had one of those little Books in my hand, which instruct how a Confession may be well made. But he, going on, laid before me, (as if it had been in one single prospect) the whole course of his life, with so great clarity, and brevity, that I found myself obliged to ask him, if during many days before, he had not applied himself to make such a preparation. To which the young Noble man made this very answer: So great is the light (as I have already insinuated) which my dear Lord Jesus vouchsafes at this instant to give me, of my whole life, that even whilst I am confessing, me thinks I behold all my actions 
(k) This was a very extraordinary, supernatural favour of Almighty God.  as in a glass; and I read all my thoughts and words, as in a Book.  
And, without doubt, so it was. For he, without ever mistaking a word, did so call all his sins to mind, that by that time he wanted little of having declared them all distinctly. Only at the very end, as it were, of his Confession, he returned to repeat some things which he had already said; and I doubting that he did so, as having forgotten what he had expressed before, I told him of that inadvertence (as I reputed it) when yet he made me this answer: I know well, dear Father, that I repeat some things; but I do it, to the end I may now more perfectly detest them, and be confounded in myself. And especially 
(l) How desirous this Soul was, to make God amends.  since I have passed the greatest part of my life in such things as these, to the displeasure of our Lord, I do now for the better pleasing of him, pass this time of my death, in a misliking remembrance of them. And if it be troublesome to your Reverence, as I know it is, so often to hear my so many offences; do you remember once for all, that this is the Soul of a sinner, for whom Christ died.  
Nay, said I, if your Lordship, have any such apprehension, you may repeat as much, and as often as you please; for I only advised you of it before, as thinking perhaps you might have done it by error. The error (says he) was m●ne, and a grievous error it was to ●ffend those so many ways, who did ever stand in my defence. But however that be, in this respect as in some others, I shall die contented, in that I can never satisfy myself, with confessing my faults to you, dear Father; Which now, by the goodness of God, are as well known by me, as heretofore they were little esteemed; and are now as bitterly lamented, as heretofore they gave me gust, though it were a false one. I 
(m) The man did even melt between grief and love.  wish, (O thou most sweet Saviour of my Soul) I had, as well, a thousand tongues, that so I might fully confess them; a a thousand eyes, that so, I might bitterly bewail them; and a thousand hearts, that so, eternally I might detest them. And that this grief for my sins, committed against God, might so break my heart; as the instrument of Justice, will take my head, for those I have committed concerning men.  
I do, good Father, (by the goodness of God) know what a sinner I am. As a sinner, I lament myself, and as a sinner I will die, but a sinner, all humbled and contrite; and with my tears I will make my Funerals; then suffer me to perform them, after mine own fashion. And here even I, not 
(n) I cannot blame him.  being able to contain myself from weeping, was observed by him, who said thus. Most happy Funerals are therefore these of mine, which are solemnised by the servants of God. Yet this part belongs not to you, but only as being a Father to my Soul. Who knows, but that by these mutual tears, and this exchange of tenderness, my impure conscience may indeed be cleansed? Thus both of us, being silent for a while, he then proceeded: Well, my good Father, it is now high time that by the 
(o) This authority was given to his true Church by jesus Christ, and in his name, & by his power, 'tis exercised.  Authority, which God has given you, to lose, and bind men on earth, you lose me, from so many chains of sin, which hang upon me. To the end that, as you have taught me, I may say, Auditui meo dabis gaudium & laetitiam, & exultabunt ossa humiliata. And first I besceech you you give me Absolution, and then, I may perform my Penance. Though indeed what Penance, carrying proproportion to my sins, is your Reverence able to impose? At this, he cast himself at my feet, and bowed his head to my knee, where I had laid my left hand; and he all bathed it with tears, and kissed it, and expected the Penance & Absolution, Which I gave him, fully, in form of a 
p This is a full remission of all Canonical Penances required by the ancient discipline of the Church.  Plenary jubiley, according to the most ample privilege, 
(q) By the Popes.  granted to those of the Congregation of the 
(r) It is called a congregation of M sericordia, because it is so great a woe k of charity and mercy wherein they employ themselves.  Misericordia. Being absolved, and having done his Penance, with incredible affection of mind, he sat down again by my direction; and then, the rest cam●, and encircled him after the accustomed manner.  
I than spoke first to him after this sort: Most Illustrious Lord Troilo, our Blessed Saviour Jesus Christ whom here we have present, did, by dying upon the Cross, give remedy, in his person, this night to three things, among many others. He 
(s) An application f●ll of life and comfort.  died in the flower and vigour of his youth; that your Lordship might not have too much indulgence and compassion of your own tender youth, and so might say, O, but why is my life taken away in so tender years? And this is the first. He died, and he died of a violent death; that to your Lordship it might not seem insupportable, to die upon necessity, and so you might say, O but why is the flower of my years cut off by a violent hand? and this is the second. He died of the most reproachful death, which in those times was inflicted; that it might not seem strange to your Lordship, to die by the hand of Justice, and so you might say, O, but why died not I in my cradle, or at least by some other natural accident?  
Nay, if your Lordship will accept this death in so tender years, you offer him the best part of your time. By dying a violent death, you may make that which is necessary, to be voluntary; and by dying a dishonourable death, (taking it as a Penance for your sins) you may avoid the shame of that last terrible day. And so much the better, you may accept it, because you are not to die in public, upon the Bridge, as the ordinary Gustom bears, but 
(t) It is there accounted of less dishonour, to be put privately to death. They who die privately, die within the Castle, they who publicly, at the foot of the Bridg.  privately here below, in the Court, as is wont to be used towards your Peers. I added also some other considerations, and so ended my speech. To which the Baron. who was ever ready, made this answer.  
And 
(u) How wise, the grace of God, is able to make a very young man, upon a sudden!  I, O Father, for as much as coneerns the first, die willingly in this fresh age of mine; because thus I shall be sure not to offend my Lord any more. And, from this instant, I offer him my years, my age, and my life; and a hundred years, and a hundred ages, and a hundred lives. As for the second; I will make a virtue of necessity; and being to die per force, and according to reason, I will die willingly, that so I may yield willingly to force, and willingly give satisfaction to reason, But as for the third; I could wish for a more ignominious death. And be you pleased to know, that to have died in public, would have given me I know not what increase of consolation and gust. For so I might have hoped by 
(x) Because public sins require public satisfaction.  public Penance, to have made a better amends, for my public crimes. And God knows, I take no contentment, to receive the favour of dying privately. But yet however, if the determination which is made, be such, I resist it not. Our Lord will accept the promptitude of my will.  
Hereupon, the Proveditore took up the speech, and said: Let your Lordship accommodate itself to the will and providence of God, who has not only one way of arriving to save our Souls, nor one only means of drawing them to him. He leads one by one means, and others by another. It imports not that 
(y) Many of God's judgements are secret but they are all just.  his Judgements are hidden from us, but it suffices that they are just. Who can tell, if your Lordship should have died in any other sort then this whether or no, you should have been saved? I am he (saith the Baron) who can tell you that; for I should have tumbled headlong into Hell.  
Do you not know how God has proceeded with me? It is just as a Huntsman would do, when he would take a wild beast, which he would have brought to his hand, whole and sound, not torn by the teeth or paws of dogs; nor strucken by the bow, nor bruised by nets, or snares; He arius this beast, sometimes one way, sometimes another, but never lets slip the dogs, nor shoots the arrow, nor spreads the net, or Toil upon the ground or sets the snare; but, at the most, with some outcries, or else by throwing some stones, he rouseth him, and addresseth him towards the place designed; and so long he drives the beast by several ways, that, at last, he brings him thither, where he would have him. The Huntsman knows this well, and did long expect him there, and he takes him, and enjoys him, all sound and safe.  
I am 
(z) Note how wittily, and piously, he makes this application to himself.  he, O my Good Jesus, who have been this beast, hunted hither, and thither; but thou hadst a mind, to have me safe; thou hadst a mind to have me sound. And so thou didst not permit, I should be torn with dogs, nor pierced by arrow, nor taken by nets, or Toils, or snares; when thou deliveredst me out of so many dangers of death, in which, though very young, I have found myself, and wherein if I had died, without fail, I had perished for all eternity: Thou didst only throw stones at me, and cry out after me, when by so many admonitions, and inspirations, thou didst solicit me. And now I repent me, that I was so deaf to them. But what marvel, if I were deaf, who after a sort was 
(a) By sin.  dead? And thus has thy goodness conducted me to this straight pass, without my knowing it; that so I may be forced to leap into thy lap. For whither am I able to turn myself more securely, then to my dear Jesus? Yea, and though it were in my power, I would not turn any way, but to Thee. It is true, I am forced; but yet I am content withal.  
One of the Confortatori then replied: It is enough, Signior Troilo. So great, and so liberal, is the goodness of God, that he accepts all, and he does it with delight. And one of the Chiesa nuova said; That, though our Lord received a Precept, or Commandment that he should die, nevertheless it is affirmed, and very true, that he died voluntarily. And having accompanied this speech of his, with divers choice examples, one of our Fathers concluded that discourse, with showing, by what means, that which was necessary, 
(b) That punishment which is imposed by necessity, may be made voluntary, by a voluntary acceptation of it.  might grow to be voluntary, by a voluntary acceptatation of it: and, that so much more it would be meritorious, as it should more willingly be embraced. Then teach me (said the Baron) how I may make this enforced death truly voluntary. Whereupon certain devout, and apt ways how to do it, being declared, by the Governor of the Congregation of the Confortatori, and embraced by the Baron, I said; Perhaps Signior Troilo, we weary you too much; How can you weary me? said he, These discourses make the night short to me, and my disaster, fortunate. And here, all were silent a while; when he rising up (for he was sitting) said, That he would speak with the father. And drawing near me, the 
(c) Whom the penitent did accompany therein.  Confortatori said the Confiteor; and, that being ended, I desire (saith he) if it please you, Father, to call again to mind some of the things aforesaid; both for the better repeating of them, and for the addition of some others. Which I refusing, out of the assurance I had, that it was not necessary, he said; And is it possible, dear Father, that you will not give me this last contentment? Will you not permit, at least, that I may satisfy myself, with confessing the offences I have committed against God? And besides, d●es not your Reverence remember, that we must speak together of 
(d) The Father, it seems had made him some such promise before.  Penance? I answered, Let that Penance be, to die, and to die well.  
Then teach me that, said he; And I, thus to him: Offer now, this death of yours, to God, with your whole hart, in penance, for the sins you have committed. I do (said he) offer it with my heart, and with my mouth; and it grieus me, (as our Lord knows) that I have not, this night, a thousand heads, that in this one of mine, they might be all cut off, and a thousand lives, that they might all be lost. Nay 
(e) How much he gives to God; and how little he thinks it to be; and yet how faithfully he acknowledges it all to be of God.  I confess and know, that even that penance, would yet fall short; but since more I cannot, more I know not what to do; and since more I have not, I can give no more; and even the doing, and giving this little, I acknowledge to proceed from the hand of God.  
I told him, by way of reply, that it was well; and that he should still be doing so. And when (said I) you are laying your head upon the block, say thus in your heart. O Lord, by this act of mine, I protest to do penance for my sins, as if I had a thousand heads, and thousand lives; and I acknowledge, and confess, it is all too little. But I doubt Signior Troilo, whether then you will be able to remember this; for at that time perhaps you will be, as it were, not yourself. It is no trifle to look death in the face, take my word for that. The magnanimous Lord made this answer. I will not presume so much upon myself, but 
(f) He can never fail who putteth all confidence in God, and none in himself.  hope well, and confide greatly in God, that he will not let it slip out of my memory. And if, by any accident, you should perceiv I were unworthy so great a grace, do me the favour to bring me in mind of it; for you shall find me ready to put it in execution. In the mean while, I beseech your Reverence tell me some what else towards this end of mine, and that quickly, for the time has wings. I bade him leave the care of that to me. For I will (said I) go intimating from time to time, whatsoever you are to think upon; and whatsoever shall be sit for you to say, even till your last breath.  
And 
(g) He exhorts him to a great devotion to his good Angel.  very now, you shall begin to make a straight friendship with your Good Angel. And first ask pardon of him with your hart, for the little gratitude you have expressed, for the Custody he has afforded you; which has been so incessant, so patiented, so diligent, and so full of love. Upon which words, he said (casting himself upon his knees;) Yea, not only with my mouth, but with my heart, I beg pardon of him, for the very much ingratitude, I have used, notwithstanding his so great benignity, and love to me; and so kissing my knee, he sat down again. So that I proceeded, and said: Consider then with your self that your 
(h) S Hierom says expressly, That every soul has an Angelus Custos assigned it by Almighty God, from the first instant of the birth till the last of life. lib. 3. conc. in 18. Mat. The holy Scriptures and Fathers a bound also in proof of the ministry of Angels in the help of men.  good Angel now is here, who even from your very birth, and so much more at this hour, which is so full of danger, assists you, and especially, in six particulars. First, he hinders the impetuous assaults of the devil, and weakens the force of all those malign spirits, who at this instant, conspire to the damnation of your soul. Secondly, he breathes into your heart, preparation, Generosity, Devotion, and Contrition● Thirdly, he lightens this darkness, this anguish, and this Death. Fourthly, with great solicitude, he carries forward, and backward, those messages, which pass between God and you; he gathers up your sighs, your very countenances, and the humiliations of your hart; there is not one of them, which he suffers to lose his way. Fiftly, he negotiates with other Angels of superior 
(i) We read in holy scripture (Dan. 10.) how one Angel helps another, for the good of men.  Quires, so to procure effectual assistances for your salvation. In most particular manner, he moves S. Michael the Archangel, that he will defend you in this night. Sixtly, he solicits my good Angel also, that he may procure me to be a competent instrument, in this passage, which you are making towards your salvation.  
Salute him therefore, and say thus with me; Angelo Dei, O 
(k) He ponders the prayer which Catholics say daily, to their good Angel: Angelo Dei, qui custos es mei, me tibi commissum, pi●tate superna, h●die illumina, custodi, rege, gub● na.  thou Angel of God, so i● known, and so ill used by me, qui custos es mei, who keepest me with so continual care, and perfect love, me tibi commissum, who am committed to thee, being a man so faulty, and brought by the providence of God to this passage; but yet a sinner who, by his mercy, and thy prayers, is contrite for his sins, pietate superna, by the goodness of God, for I find no desert, but cordially confess much demerit, in hac morte, & hac nocte, in this death, which is due to me for my offences, and in this last period of my life, illumina, custodi, rege, & guberna, do thou illuminate, defend, protect, and govern me, Amen.  
This good Noble Man, did repeat these words, with affectuous and abundant tears; and, even by his countenance, one might see, his very heart split in his body. And not contenting himself, to say it once, he would needs repeat it then, three times; and afterwards, he did it again so often, the same night, as that all the times arrived, I think, to ten; letting me know withal, that he had not felt greater solace, and gust, in any one spiritual Exercise, then in this.  
Secondly (said I) you shall take the glorious Virgin, for your 
l To pray for him, as one man may do for another; though all the Saints, & much more, the glorious Mother of God, do perform it, in a far more excellent manner.  Intercessor; and then S. John the Baptist, and S. Paul, who were both condemned to the loss of their heads, as your Lordship is. It is true (said he) they were condemned as I am; but with this difference; they suffered innocent, I for my faults; therefore I accuse myself, of such, and such, and such offences, which I have committed against God. Which, howsoever I confessed before, yet for the reasons I have already touched, I do willingly repeat. After he had ended his Confession, and received Absolution upon his knees, I desired him to sit down again, that the wont company might come about him.  
And ever, some one of them, would be taking up, some verse of the Holy Scripture, which might be appropriated to the present occasion. As,  
Viam iniquitatis amove à me, & de lege tua miserere mei.  
Suscipe servum tuum in bonum, & justificationes tuas edoce me.  
Bonum mihi, quia humiliasti me, ut discam justificationes tuas.  
Cognovi Domine, quia aequitas judicia tua, & in veritate tua humiliasti me.  
Fiat cor meum immaculatum in justificationibus tuis, ut non confundar.  
Miserere mei Deus, secundum magnam misericordiam tuam; & secundum multitudinem miserationum tuarum, deal iniquitatem meam  
Erravi sicut ovis quae perjit, quaere servum tuum Domine.  
Deus propitius esto mihi peccatori.  
Deus in audiutorium meum intend.  
And a hundred other, such as these; which now, and then, were declared by some one of 
(m) The Religious men declared them. though the Confortatori might represent them.  us, according to the present occasion, wherein he took much contentment.  
Besides, he had great comfort, in using these other Jaculatory Prayers, Maria Mater gratiae, Mater misericordiae, Tu nos ab host besiege & hora mortis suscipe; repeating often these last words, & hora mortis suscipe. And again, Eia ergo advoca nostra, illos tuos misericordes oculos ad nos converte, & Jesum benedictum fructum ventris tui, mihi, post hanc noctem, ostend, O clemens, O pia, O dulcis Virgo Maria. Ora pro me peccatore indigno, in hac hora mortis meae, Amen, Amen, Amen. But especially in often, and fervently repeating,  
Recordare Jesus pie,  
Quod sim causa tuae viae,  
Ne me perdas illa die, etc.  
In this exercise, those brothers, of the Congregation of the Misericordia, were very perfect, and discreet; delivering out, in fit times, a great number of these versicles, without importuning, or perplexing him. And so also did other Religious men, according to the occasion, without either interrupting one the other, or overwearying the young Noble man; and they likewise exhibited with them certain motives and considerations, with much brevity, but with great life of devotion.  
When these things were ended, I said: It will not be amiss that we recite the Litanies, if these Gentlemen think it fit. And I (said the young Lord) if you, and they be so pleased, will be he that shall recite them. They all made answer in the negative, saying Your Lordship would but weary yourself too much. Nothing less, (said he) but to me it will be of extreme contentment. And so, (without more dispute) they put the Book into his hand; and (kneeling, even, by me, against a form) he began the Litanies, to which we answering, Ora pro eo, Pray for him, there 
o It must needs be an object of great compassion.  was not a man among us, who accompanied not the words of his mouth with the tears of his eyes. And especially, when with incredible affection, and devotion, he repeated these words, A mala morte, A potestate diaboli, A poenis inferni, libera me Domine. Deliver me, O Lord, from an evil death, from the power of the devil, and from the torments of hell. But 
p Nothing but only his sins could move him to tears.  he (O admirable repose of mind) did not shed one tear. Nay myself, being in tears, who held the candle by him (and not being able to repress them) he jogd me with his elbow, and made other signs to them, that so, giving over their weeping, they might answer him. And, speaking of it to me afterward, he said, There wanted little, of their making him also weep, for company.  
When the Litanies were ended, he said, (turning to me) Father, say you the Prayers, over me, that follow. And then, he taking the candle out of my hand, and giving me the Book, I said those Prayers over him, which are wont to be said, over such as are in their last agony; Commendo 
q These a●e as admirable and effectuous prayers, as any are used in the whole of the holy Church, and I wish all the Readers of this, to procure to see & read them.  te omnipotenti Deo, etc. And that other which follows, Deus misericors, Deus clemens, etc. And at the end of these, he said with a loud voice, the Pater Noster, the Ave Maria, the Credo, and the Salve Regina; and so returned to his seat, the others making the accustomed circle about him. And so one, with representing some sentence of Holy Scripture, another, some example, another, some other spiritual Consideration, we always kept him alive, and quick, and even all kindled in devotion; till such time, as the hour of celebrating Mass approached.  
Then the Noble Man said thus: If these 
r This rigour is used in those parts, for the great insolences which have sometimes been acted in the like extremities, by Delinquents.  Manacles are put upon me to give me pain, or punishment, let the will of my Prince be done, who is pleased to have it so; but if the meaning be, but to make me sure; in vain is he tied without, who is bound 
s Because his heart was more chained, by the love of God, than his hands could be by a load of Iron  within. Upon which words, all of us being full 
t They had great reason  of tenderness; and in particular one of those Confortatori (who shown himself, through the whole night, a most compassionate Gentleman, in service of this Noble Man) caused the Keys to be instantly given him, and so took the Manacles off; which yet, the Baron would needs 
u An humble, natural, and most Noble Soul.  kiss, and kissing them, he sighed, and so held his peace.  
When he had been silent a while, and having made a sign that he desired to confess again; and when he had blessed himself, with the sign of the Cr●sse; Father 
x He is much solicitous by the memory of his disobedience to his Mother.  (said he) I who have given so many disgusts, and so bitter ones, to my most dear Lady and Mother, through the whole course of my life; what comfort does your Reverence think I might be able to give her in my death? ' By dying well (said I) and in a holy manner. To which he answered thus; How shall the unfortunate woman come to know it? I told him, I would relate it to her by word of mouth, and in fine I would write it for her; and I will not only notify it (said I) to her, but to any other whom it may import to know it. It is enough, (said he) and he reached his hands out to me, that I might give him one of mine, and withal, my word. And so he kissed it often, and holding it between both his, he continued to speak after this manner.  
I could wish, dear Father, that in my place, your Reverence would often visit and comfort my Lady-Mother, after my death. And when you shall see her first, I desire you will ask forgiveness of her in my name, a thousand, and a thousand times, as here I have done, both now, and the other day, since I came to prison. And especially, beg pardon of her, for such, and such a particular offence, and then say to her thus; Your Troilus who is dead, begs that blessing from your most afflicted Ladyship, which, being alive, he neither deserved, nor had time to ask. He further recommends the care of his Soul to your Ladyship. He prays, he beseeches, he conjures your Ladyship, to grant him this his last and now only suit; that having put your Soul in peace, you will not so much as resent, or call to mind, and much less procure to 
y If she thought the adverse par●ies, whom he had wronged, had prosecuted him with too much eagerness.  revenge yourself, for any injury; but that you will remit the whole, and yourself withal, to the Eternal Providence of God. Put her in mind, that it is the part of a Roman, and Christian heart, after a generous manner to pardon offences. And, giving her all comfort, do you assure her, that I have particularly reversed all those irreverent words I have formerly used towards her; and remembered all those most sweet, dear benefits, I have received from her; and all those Maternal favours, which she has vouchsafed me. And above all, let her know, the inestimable contentment I have, to think of the 
z This was a Mother, not only of her son's body, but of his soul also.  Christian love, she has expressed to me, in this last passage; without ever reflecting upon those offences, and great demerits of mine.  
Say to her moreover, that I die her son, and a son, who is most profoundly penitent, for all the ill words and deeds I have ever uttered, and performed against her; and that, in the other world, I will by God's grace be as grateful to her, as I have been ungrateful here. Relate to her my last passage, in most particular manner; and oblige her, liberally to reward all my followers, who have been in prison, upon my account. Of whom, I do, with all the very bowels of my heart, ask pardon, for the pain, and peril, wherein to I did so idly, and absurdly cast them. And assure her, in a word, that if for nothing else, yet even for the very disgusts I have given her, I shall die content; finding a kind of joy in my heart, that I thus perform this penance, which I have so well deserved. And so, I dying in such sort, as your Reverence may be pleased to let her know, she cannot but receive some comfort in my death; and will also find, herself even engaged, to conform herself to the will of God, as, by his mercy I have done.  
To my Lady, my Grandmother, what shall I say, dear Father? O how compassive am I of her great age! What pain does my Soul feel, for that affliction of hers! Give her also to understand, that I beg pardon of her, for so many disgusts, as, in this old age of hers, I have given her; beseeching her, in my name, that as long as she lives, she will cause a Mass every week to be celebrated for my Soul. And in like manner I humbly ask pardon of my Lord marquis, my Uncle, from the most inward parts of my Soul, as I also do of the rest of my Blood; beseeching them all to excuse this youth, or rather ignorance of mine. Putting them also in mind that once we shall all meet in Heaven. And if ever your Reverence can procure to be in my Castles, ask pardon, I beseech you, in my name, of all my vassals. Making a promise to them, that instead of the ill example I have given them, I will not forget them in Heaven, when by the mercy of God, I shall be there; and let them in the mean time, excuse my youth.  
Forget not also to do this office, with 
a This was a person of great authority, who took his examination  Monsignor the Governor of Rome, who, about some four times, has examined me, with so much respect and courtesy. Give him assurance from me, that though my death grieve me, yet I accept it willingly; And beseech him, that when time shall serve, he will also 
b With how great piety, he speaks of the Pope, as he was his supre●● Pastor, and with observance, as his Prince.  assure our Lord, Pope Clement, his Holiness, that I die his most devoted Son; and most satisfied with the proceeding of his Holiness towards me. With this moreover, that I am grieved at the very roots of my 
c A noble circumstance of civility & courtesy.  heart, for having given his Holiness so much cause of trouble and grief, especially in this beginning of his Pontificate, and in the midst of the joy, which has been expressed for his assumption to the Sea Apostolic. And let him be further told, that by placing myself, as I do at your feet, I make account I lay my head under the feet of his Holiness, that so he might vouchsafe to give me his benediction. I having this comfort, in the midst of all my afflictions, that his sentence and my death, will serve to his whole State, for a lawful, and plentiful example of his Justice. And verily, if it grieve me, at this time, to die, it also grieves me, that even by my death, I am not able to give complete satiisfaction to his Holiness; For 
d What a noble civil Soul was this.  as much as he, being my Father, and Pastor, cannot, in fine, but feel the death of a Son, and Sheep of his, with displeasure, and grief.  
Upon which words, he finding, (even more than before) that there fell some tears from mine eyes, to his hands, This is well indeed, (said he) your Reverence commends my courage; but why then do you weep yourself? At least, let not others see you. I replied: Do you believe, my Son, that I have no sense in me? Do you think perhaps, I am some piece of marble? Proceed you on to the rest. And then, nameing divers of his particular friends he desired me to ask pardon for him, of them all; and this he did, with words of extreme sweetness, and prudence. This being then said by him with a most admirably intrepid heart, he concluded with this desire; I beseech your Reverence, that in the last place, you will beg pardon for me, of Almighty God, as I myself do now, with the most internal part of my heart; and of yourself, I ask my Penance and Absolution.  
Which as soon as I had given him, the Brothers of that Congregation of the Misericordia, did put us in mind that it was time Mass should be celebrated; and so the Priest, as soon as he was vested, began. The devout young Lord, and I kneeling together against a form, he said thus to me. The Priest is beginning Mass; and I (with your good leave) will have a new Reconciliation, according to that, which my good Angel shall bring to my remembrance, of whom I have desired this favour. The Priest was saying the Confiteor at the foot of the Altar; to whom one of the Congregation (making answer) was so overwrought with tenderness, that he could not get to the end of it; in such sort, as that it was necessary, some other should do it for him. Then the good Noble Man, who answered softly to the Confiteor, leaning towards me, said thus, Give 
e He had the gift of tears in a strange measure.  me leave to weep, whilst I say the Confiteor, since that Gentleman weeps so bitterly, to whose office it belongs not greatly, that he should weep. I answered, he might weep in the name of God; since he had given him such great desire so to do. And it was an admirable effect of divine grace, that instantly, I saw the tears streaming down his cheeks, and pouring themselves, even upon the cushion, that lay before him.  
When the Confiteor was done, & all 
f Till after the Gospel.  the while the Priest was reading with a loud voice, he did not move at all, but wa● most fixedly attentive, & as it were rapt towards the 
g The Crucifix was of stone, but his mind was upon the Original, not upon the Original, not upon the picture.  Crucifix, upon the Altar, which was there most devoutly made. And shortly after, (turning towards my ear) he accused himself of divers little things, which then suddenly surprised his mind. And the Priest being come to 
h About the middle of Mass.  Sursum corda; Father (said he) do you think indeed, that by such a death as this, and so well deserved, I may yet go straight to heaven? And why (said I) may not your Lordship undergo this death with so great and so well conditioned affectuousness of mind, as that your soul may be sure to fly up instantly, from the block, into heaven. O my God (said he) And what kind of affectuousness must that be! O teach it me a little! O, that our Lord would grant it me! Pray (said I) very earnestly unto him for it, and peradventure he will grant it At which time, the Priest being in the very act of the Elevation of the Body of our Lord, the young Noble Man spoke these very, very words. O bone Jesus, sis mihi, in hac hora, Jesus. O dear Lord Jesus, be thou, in this hour, a Jesus to me. And this he said, with so ardent affection of mind, though with a low voice, as that after it, he was wholly immove-able, till the Priest went on, to 
The 〈…〉 of 〈◊〉  Domine non sum dignus, etc. And then, he said thus to me. I have not, Father, been attentive, either when the Pater Noster, or the Agnus Dei, was said; may I yet nevertheless communicate? I answered, that for the present, he should do such a 
k This was perhaps the knocking of his breast, or some such other thing, which might be done at the instant  Penance, whilst I was giving him Absolution. Which being done, he went, of himself, to the Altar; and kneeling down, did with exemplar devotion, receive the most Blessed Sacrament; and soon after, he came back, towards me where he remained, without any motion at all.  
After this, turning about to all those who assisted, he said, I give thanks to you all, for your Charity, and courtesy; and, I beseech you, pardon the painful night I have brought upon you. And then, he desired me, for the love of him, to repeat those words, to every one of them, in particular; and so I did. Being then entreated to sit down, the wont circle was made about him. Where every one endeavoured to animate him, towards the combat then at hand; by representing the shortness of the pain, the immensity of the reward, the vanity of the world; and above all, the abundant grace, which, in the space of so few hours, our Lord had communicated to his Soul, and had given him withal, such a pregnant sign of his Predestination; wherein the Noble Youth seemed to find extraordinary gust.  
Amongst the many discourses which were made to this purpose, as well by the Confortatori, as by our Fathers, I used this. And what think you, Signior Troilo, will the grace, which God hath given you, be sufficient to make you bear this punishment? I tell you truly, that in imitation of Christ, you should do well to desire it, and that desire, would serve to make it more tolerable to you; Nay it would make it seem no punishment at all, and lastly it would make it seem swee●. As it happened to Christ our Lord himself, to 
m The immense love which our Lord Jesus bore to man, made all he suffered seem little to him.  whom his Passion, seemed so small a matter, that whereas others called it, by the name of a huge thing, an Ocean, a deep sea, (Veni in altitudinem maris, & tempestas demersit me) himself calls it, but a Cup full; (Calicem quem dedit mihi Pater, non vis ut bibam illum?) Again, after that huge heap of bitterness, and torments which he had endured, it seemed nothing to him. For being asked by those disciples who were going to Emaus. if he knew of that vast cruelty, which had then lately been executed at Jerusalem, upon the person of the greatest Saint of God, he answered, by ask, Quae? for in fine he esteemed it all as nothing. Therefore, speaking of his Passion, he used the word Baptism, saying, Baptismo habeo baptizari, & quomodo coarctor, etc. And you know that baths serve for delicacy. What say you then Signior Troilo? Does not your punishment, by this time, seem small to you? Small; (saith he?) it seems nothing. Yet can I not sa●, either that it is nothing, or yet very pleasant; but nevertheless, it is dear to me, and as such I prise it. And 
(n) How mightily this noble man, grew up in grace, even by moments.  I assure you, at the present, it would be as it were, a kind of trouble for me, to escape it. Before I desired to escape; I sighed for it; I laboured for it; and I know not what of that kind. But I had not then, that knowledge of myself, which now, by the favour of God, methinks I have, in such sort, as now, I can affirm to you, in the word of Truth, that I 
(o) This so ardent desire, of suffering for his sins, must needs be a great disposition towards the obtaining pardon for them, through the mercy of Christ our Lord.  desire my end, how painful soever it may be, towards the remission of my sins.  
To this, another Father said; your Lordship speaks wisely; for God knows, whether otherwise, you should ever have been so well prepared for death. Whereupon, one of the Confortatori proceeded thus, If your Lordship had died naturally in your bed; what, with the pain of your body, and the anguish of your mind; it may be you would scarce have been master of yourself. And if you had died, by any other accident, perhaps you would not have had time, to bring forth, so much as the name of Jesus. Whereas now, it 
(p) Supposing first, the g●●ce of God, as is declared afterward.  is in a manner, in your own power, to die as well as you will yourself, with what detestation of your sins you will; with what love of Christ you will; and, in a word, in that best manner, which the grace of Almighty God will impart to you; which we perceive, even so to overflow your Soul, that we are as much astonished, as comforted, by the knowledge of it.  
Hereunto the constant Noble Man made this answer. You shall know, that by the goodness of God, I find in myself, no trouble nor tentation; and me 
(q) Nothing but the very hand of God, was able so to have conducted him, through these stony waye●. And it seems, God communicated himself ●o the Delinquent, in a very particular manner.  thinks I am in a hand which hears me up. I desire, and I resolve to die, in that manner, which I shall be taught to be the best; and I am most ready, for the saving of my Soul, to obey whatever shall be commanded me. This, said I, you shall therefore do. You shall bar yourself in that hour, of some ease. That is, you shall for the love of Jesus, and, in imitation of what he did & suffered for you, deprive yourself of somewhat, which you might have; and which, at that time, might be agreeable to you. For, if you well remember, they gave twice unto our Lord, to drink. The first time, when they gave him vinegar, he drank; but when they gave him wine, as soon as he had tasted it, he put it by. But do you know the reason? It was this. To such as were condemned to die, it was the custom to give wine, with an infusion of myrrh; that by the comfort of it they might faint the less, under their torments. Now our Lord (who was pleased to deprive himself entirely, and fully, of all consolation, for love of us, and for our example) refused that, but accepred the vinegar, which was mingled with 
(r) With Gall.  another most bitter ingredient; that so he might s ff●r the most he could, for our example, and benefit.  
The Providitore said. that this was most certainly true; whereupon som● expound those words, which Christ spoke upon the cross, Deus Deus m●us, ut quid dereliquisti me? That Christ our Lord, did grieve thereat, because the Divinity beg●n, as it were, to hid itself from the Humanity; and consequently by little and little, his life was leaving him; and by occasion thereof, he was able to suffer no longer; which the most enamoured Jesus observing, complained of it, to his Father, by the words aforesaid.  
To these things a Father of ours, adding other devour, and short discourses, the Confortatori said; That for the time his Soul was sufficiently fed; and that it would be well done, to refresh his body. The Baron answered, there was no need of that. But they pressing it much, there was brought in some wine by a servant of the Lord 
(s) This Government, is the place of greatest confidence the Pope bestows.  Governor of the Castle, which, one of the Gentlemen there present, pouring forth into a glass, presented to the Baron; who said again, it was wholly needless; And yet (said he, turning then towards me) if I should need it, your 
(t) A good memory he had▪ and a more pious will.  Reverence told me a while ago, that in imitation of Christ, I should do well to deprive myself of it. Father, is it not so? Nevertheless being entreated by all the Assistants, that he would drink, or at least, so much, as wash his mouth; this last he did twice, without swallowing any wine at all. And this was so much more remarkable, because such as are in that case, use to be extremely taken with thirst, which is held to be one of their greatest torments.  
The wine being then carried away, divers questions were asked this most illustrious Lord, to which he 
(u) Note and wonder at these answers, which are so full of piety, wisdom and courage,  answered with so great prudence and judgement, that more could not be imagined. He was asked first (for, of many, I will mention only a few, & this first question he was asked often) Signior Troilo, will your Lordship have any thing? He still answered, that he desired nothing, saving that once he held his deace, but made a sign up to heaven. Besides, he was often asked, Signior Troile, of what are you thinking? Sometimes he answered, upon nothing in particular; Sometimes, upon our Lord; Sometimes upon my sins; Sometimes, upon my approaching end; Sometimes, he said, I think upon the so many gifts, which God has bestowed upon me, and that I have been so very ungrateful, yea and even unmindful of them all. Being then asked in this manner, Does your Lordship die willingly? He answered: And what? would you have me bustle against the order of the Prince? Or should I not be content, with the providence, and good pleasure of God? Is it possible, said one, that the Devil should not strive, to make you think your death unjust? I do not, (said he) esteem it only to be just; but most just; and as for the Devil, I neither have, nor will have, any more to do with him, I have had enough, and too much of him already.  
Another asked him, what he said of the Lady his Mother, his Friends, his Kindred, and himself; if he were not much afflicted with the thought thereof? Concerning my Lady Mother (said he) I confess, in the most inward parts of my heart, I find extreme affliction; but, on the other side I rejoice that I am paying the offences, I have committed against her, with my blood. And I hope, the readiness wherewith I embrace this Penance, for my wicked carriage towards her, will be so well accepted by Almighty God, that he may, through his goodness, give her no small comfort, even by this very death of mine. I think of my kindred with grief, as having been a cause of Sorrow and trouble to them; of my friends as having given them ill example; of myself, I take no care; for behold who 
(x) A great faith, & hope, & love.  does it for me; making a sign towards the Crucifix, which he had hard by him.  
Being asked, whether the time did seem long to him or short. Neither 
(y) This I find to be a strange answer, in the superlative de●●ee of strangeness.  long (say he) nor short. And another replying to him thus; Is it possible, that you are not grieved, you must die; I do not, says he, deny, but I am grieved at it, but yet it neither troubles me, nor so much, as altars me, more than you see. It being wished, that he should suffer his chair to be drawn a little forward, that so he might sit at greater ease; To what end (said he) should I give my body ease, I am well here; & with the help of God, I shall be shortly free from needing that, or any thing else. Being desired to raise, & rest his feet, upon a place of advantage, where they used to kneel, that so he might be in a more commodious posture; he said, (drawing near my ear,) Father, it is a piece of ill manners, to sit with a man's legs raised up, in the presence of others. But I advising him however, that he would set them up; he did instantly accommodate himself to my desire.  
Being asked to what devotions" he had been most particularly affected: He answered; Above all the Saints in Heaven, to that of our 
(z) He was ever much devoted to our B. Lady.  Blessed Lady, in whose honour, I did daily recite her Office, but with an impure mouth; and how then could that be accepted by her? And till within these two years, I made, said he much account of going to Confession, wh●ch through the mercy of my Lord, I resolved never to intermit, unless it were by some very unlucky accident, that should interpose i● self. And I ever carried living in my heart, the memory of many things which formerly, upon several occasions, had ●●en represented to me by ●und●● Religions Fathers, with whom I had much conversed, (insinuating thereby, as I conceive, the Fathers of the Chiesa Nuova.) And, When I had means, to do it in private, I never failed any day, to salute the Blessed Virgin upon my bare knees. And then, I saying (I know not well, upon what occasion) Ah poor Signior Troilo. Poor (said he) I was, when I was without the the grace of my Lord God, but now I take myself to he rich.  
But then the time of his end drawing on apace, we rising up from our seats, did encircle him upon our knees. And (after the manner of two Quires, interchangeably answering one another) we began the seven Penitential Psalms; pondering some of the verses now & then, & causing him to resume divers of them. They being ended, he was advised to say often Recordare Jesus pie etc. And then 
(a) These are parts of some Hymns which are recited by the holy Church, in honour of ou● Lord Jesus, and our B. Lady.  Eia ergo advocata nostro etc. And then again Maria mater gratiae, and the like. Which he pronounced, with so clear a voice, so constant a memory, and with a countenance so serene, that all who were present (himself only excepted) did weep outright; Which he observing made silence, and taking his own face into his hands, stood still a while, in mental prayer; And then, turning towards me, said; Confitcor 
(b) The enatrance whereby we begin to make our Confession.  Deo Omnipotenti & tibi Pater. I accuse myself of this and this, and that; Ideo 
(c) This we use to say when we have ended it.  precor, etc.  
And then, instantly he added this: Father I would desire 
(d) A far greater matter it was to ask this suit, then to grant it.  this last favour of you, that you would confess me at the block; and that, whilst I, on the one side, with my Beads in my hand, might say O bone Jesus, sis mihi jesus; O good Lord Jesus, be thou a Jesus to me; & you on the other, Ego te absolvo, etc. I absolve thee, etc. at the same instant the iron might fall upon my neck. Not so, my Lord, said I. For so by giving a sign to the Executioner for the cutting off your head, I should become 
(e) By the canons of the holy Church, a Priest may not cooperate to the death of any man though never so far off; but only for the punishment of delinquents in course of Justice; nor then neither, but with particular dispensation, and that in very rare cases. The Inquisition has nothing to do herein, but only examines and leaves such as are faulty and impenitent to the secular Judges.  Irregular. No, no I will not do it, by any means. But then, observing he was much afflicted by my negative, and so rather to quiet him, then for any thing else, I said it might perhaps be thus better done, you may confess at the block, & being confessed, you may begin to invoke the name of Jesus, and when I shall see the Executioner ready to let down the iron, I may say with a loud voice, Ego te absolvo. etc. Yet perhaps again this would be more inconvenient, for by giving you a sign, when the iron were upon the point of falling, it might fright you in such sort, that if by the motion of your body; it should not fall just upon your neck it would mangle you, and so afflict you with a double pain, & a double death, I will not do it by any means.  
At these words, casting his head upon my bosom, he said; Ah Father, even by all the love you bear this miserable sinful Soul, do me this favour; I make a promise to you in the name, and by the help of God, that you shall not put me into terror by it. For God's love believe me; I beseech you give me credit. Whereupon yet, I continuing, as I had resolved before; O God (said he) and might not thy divine Majesty move the heart of this my Father, to esteem me worthy this favour? Well, be of courage (said I, to quiet him) I promise you that I will do it. Then give me (answered he) that 
(f) The hands of Catholic Priests are anointed and consecrated with great solemnity  sacred hand of yours. And I gave it him, with this purpose, that if he should not remember it, at the block, as I verily though he would not, than I would let it pass; and that if h● remembered it, and did frankly call for it, I would perform it. But it seemed (as I said) to me, that a man co●ld hardly be of so undaunted a mind, as that, in so hard a passage, his memory would serve him for such a business; & that, whereas all men procure to divert their minds from such a blow, this Baron would needs have an express sign of it. But in fine, where the grace of God enters, it produces effects, which far outstrip all the power of nature and no wit of man arrives to them.  
When I had made him this promise; I 
(g) His heart wrought mightily towards humility.  would know (said he) whether your Reverence will not think it sit that I give thanks, and demand pardon of those who have had most to do with me in this place. I told him I liked well of it; & having given him Absolution, I entreated him by a sign to sit down. Then he said Father, take you care of my journey from hence to the block, as you have already promised; & you shall please to go advertising me from pace to pace of such things as are fit, that I may have my whole soul for God alone. I will advertise you, (said I) of all, keep yourself prepared, and sit down.  
As soon as he was set, all the strings of our very hearts seemed to be moved at once, to pray him that he would be mindful of us in heaven. And 
(h) It is a sign they saw strange tokens of God's favour in him.  every one of us there present, both with words & tears, did recommend himself to him the best he could; & we were not able to satisfy ourselves in the desire we had of expressing kindness towards him. And verily this was a death of so much tenderness, that the remembrance of it at this time affects me at the very Soul. Only the young Noble Man remained with a most Angelical Countenance and with a heart which seemed not so much as to know what belonged to fear.  
This 
(i) A description of Signior Troilo's person and fashion.  Sig. Troilo was tall of stature, of delicate constitution; of colour rather olivaster then very fair, of black hair & thick, of face neither fat not lean, his e●es were black, & full, and quick his nose sweetly raised: his mouth of a just proportion, and rather, smiling, then otherwise; his forehead competently spacious and he had not so much as one single hair upon his cheeks. Of a sweet voice, of ready answers; and so complete in good fashion, that, even at the block, he failed not to salute, and resalute all men, according to the occasion, and their condition; and, not being able to take off his hat himself, to make others do it for him.  
It happened once, that I desired him to let me wipe his face with a handkerchief; not that he was in any sweat, but only to refresh him a little: He suffered me to begin to do him that service, and then said; Father, I need not this. But I desired, that at least he would rub his face with his own hands, for it would refresh him; and instantly doing so, he said to me in mine ear; Father, I had an extreme desire to stretch myself, but methought it had somewhat of the Clown.  
In conclusion, he caused all those soldiers, who had kept guard over him, to pass before him one by one; and so 
(k) It i● a true sign, and a certain fruit of true penance, to submit a man's self mightily for God's sake.  casting himself upon his knees to every one of them as they singly p●ssed, he asked pardon most humbly of them, with Noble and Christian words; and he left them also liberal donatives. To the Gentleman Porter he did the like, and more; excusing himself for the trouble he had given him.  
But now there remained no more to be done, the time being run out; For the 
(l) In those Countries there rings a bell every morning, noon, and night, when all men recite three short prayers, in remembrance of the Incarnation of Christ our Lord. This they do wherever they be, when the bell rings, though it be in the streets; and there they salute one other, with a wish of the good day, or night.  Ave Maria bell did sound. Upon the hearing whereof we all recited that Prayer, and he said it also upon his knees. Then saluting all the company, he sat down, and was silent. And whilst he held his peace, we spoke among ourselves with astonishment at many things we had observed in him, and they were these: He did never sweat, nor ever complained of any thing. He never placed himself with any show of weariness upon his chair; nor ever showed any unquietness. He never wept, but whilst he was making his Confession; nor ever sought to ease himself in the course of Nature. He never had any thirst; nor ever fainted. He was never sleepy; nor ever overwrought with sorrow. He was ever fresh and strong; though in that night he had been so many and very many times upon his knees. He ever answered readily, and with a lively voice. His memory never failed, or so much as wavered. He was handsomely and modestly apparelled. He 
(m) A strange image of perfection was this young Noble man.  spoke not so much as an inconsiderate word. He never expressed a desire of any thing. He had at certain times, and upon certain occasions a discharged and smiling countenance. He did completely give every man those titles of respect which were his due; without failing so much as once; as to one, of Reverence, to another of Honour; to another, of You. He declared most currently his last Will, which was a sheet of paper long. He was not taken by passionate tenderness, but only upon the speech of the Lady his Mother. He spoke most honourably and Christianly of the Prince and Judges; and even of those who prosecuted the cause against him. All which particulars, or the most part of them happen otherwise in others who fall into the like condition. So that all those old experienced Confortatori of that Congregation of the M●sericordia were amazed to see how abundantly the grace of God had wrought upon that Soul in the space of a few hours.  
When this most devout Noble man had thus held his peace, and we had been discoursing among ourselves of the things aforesaid, he, calling me towards him, who yet was standing not far off, spoke to me in this manner. Dear Father, let us make our last Reconciliation with God. And then he made a short recapitulation of all his faults; and began 
(n) A happy soul to be so speedily, and so entirely purified.  to accuse himself of things so extremely small; as gave occasion and matter to this Soul of mine, even till this day wherein I writ, and will till the hour of my death, both to be comforted and confounded.  
Being upon the end of his Confession he fell into a most ardent weeping; in such sort, as that bowing down his head towards my hand, I was not able to endure the heat of his breath. And when I said to him, Troilo my Son; Cast a bridle upon those tears of yours; do not exasperate your own wound; it is now enough, and again enough; you have wept enough, you will have time to weep yet again, when you come to lay your Head upon the block, for 
(o) He was to suffer death for his misde eds, but he was to bear it patiently and willingly for the love of Christ.  Christ. His answer was this; I have already told you, Father, and now I tell you once again, I weep for my sins, not for my death. And when your Reverence shall have given me Absolution, and I have performed the Penance you will impose (which only deserves to be accompanied with tears) you shall find I will weep no more. And just so it happened; for, wiping his face when I had absolved him, and I having acquainted him with some necessities of mine own, to the end he might give me 
(p) By his holy prayers in heaven  assistance in the sight of our Lord; he remained with eyes as full of serenity, and void of tears, as if in all his life he had never wept.  
But then having raised himself, it was thought fit by all the Company, that certain Psalms should be repeated, whereof I, with the Confortator● were to ponder some of the verses till such time as his hour should arrive. Whereupon he said, It is now broad day, and there cannot be much time remaining. Our 
(q) Great Piety and gratitude.  Lord be blessed for making me pass through this night so happily and so holily. I thank you dear Father, and you Gentlemen, for your so great favour. The good God reward you for it. And here all of us recommending ourselves again to his prayers, we also again began the Psalms.  
At this time the Executioner came in, and no man had the heart to tell my Lord of it; but he, perceiving there was a preass of people, gently turned his face about, and as soon as he had set eye upon him, he was not troubled with it at all; but 
(r) Undavored holy courage.  armed himself only with the sign of the Holy Cross; and, making a countenance to me, who stood close by him, he risen and said: Well, the hour is come; Gentlemen, let us go, and that cheerfully. And, they all answering thus; Yea let it be done cheerfully, Signior Troilo, cheerfully for the love of Jesus; He turned towards the Executioner, who kneeling down at his feet to ask his pardon; Do your office (said he) in the name of God, for so He will have it. Your Lordship (said he) is to unbutton the Choler of your doublet; And he (being as ready on the one side, as he was modest on the other) with his own hands began to unbutton. It is not enough, said the chief Executioner, the doublet must be put off: But the rest of those Officers of Justice were not willing he should put it off: Yet the generous Noble man said, That, however he would do it, if they thought it fit. For (said he) it shall not greatly trouble me; and if you have a mind to it, I will strip myself from head to foot for the love of God. Already therefore he was beginning to untie himself; but it sufficed that he was unbuttoned to the shoulders. Then one of the Confortatori putting him in mind of Non crubescam, etc. and the Officer coming to tie his arms in such a fashion, as that when he should be arrived at the block, his body might not have much leave to move; In the name of God (saith he) bind both my arms, and my hands too, if your will be such. For 
(s) This man had true faith in Christ our Lord, and his sacred Passion, who in contemplation and imitation thereof, was so willing to suffer, as you see.  my Lord Jesus was yet much worse bound for me.  
Being therefore thus accommodated, they cast a gown about him; and he kneeled down before the Altar; in act, as if he had craved a benediction at the hands of our Lord. And, without the least change of colour, beginning the Psalm Miserere of himself; and, being come as far as the outward room, he paused there with an incredible decency and grace; And said to some of the bystanders, Might I not thank my Lord, the Governor of the Castle before I die? But they presenting I know not what excuse of his not being risen, he accepted thereof, and commanded a Gentleman who served the Governor to thank him in his name. And, having demanded pardon of many of the Assistants, and exhorting them, in some very few words, to virtue, by the example, which there they had before their eyes of the contrary, he went on with the very same verse of the Miserere, where he had left before. And sometimes turning towards me, he would be saying▪ Come 
(t) See whe●●●r the B●ron 〈◊〉 ●f●aid of death or no.  Father, come; to heaven to heaven. And it was a strang● thing, that he being in pantofles and going down such a long pair of stairs, as that is; and much broken by reason of the Artillery, which, upon frequent occasions, is drawn up and down them, yet did not his foot once slip; Though I, who was in shoes, failing to tread right many times, was willed by him to take care of myself.  
When he was arrived to the other open stairs, where many persons of the Castle were to see him; one of the Confortatori, who was well experienced in those occasions, and stood on the one hand, placing a Crucifix before him (and as it were covering him therewith) cried out with a strong voice, Let 
(u) Viva Giesu Christo.  Christ Jesus live; be not frighted, my Lord. To which he (after he had ended the Verse he was pronouncing) made this answer; Yea let Christ Jesus live; in whom whilst I am hoping, I fear not to be confounded. And then said I, In te Domine speravi, non confundar in aeternum; which being repeated by him, he spoke thus to them; Take 
(x) A noble courage.  the Crucifix aside; let all the people see me. For, if I be good for nothing else, at least I may serve them for an example. There passed one that way with a bottle of wine in his hand, who saluted the Baron upon his knee, and the Baron courteously resaluted him; and so returned to the same verse of the Psalm, which he had formerly begun. Soon after, passing through the people who stood there somewhat thick, he said; Learn 
(y) Few words, and well chosen. It is not there the fashion for a man to stand preaching at the place of his execution.  by my example to live well, and pray for me. And thus with Psalms and Jaculatory prayers he came to the block, where there was store of lookers on.  
The intrepid Baron pausing there, said thus. I would desire in these last moments of my life to see at least, and salute and thank the Lieutenant Governor of the Castle, since I cannot see my Lord the Governor. But the Lieutenant by no means resolving to go towards him (for the extreme tenderness wherewith he was taken) the Noble Youth perceiving it, and turning to me, said; Father, his heart serves him not to come; and perhaps I make the people stay too long. O most valiant and most undaunted mind, which was troubled more with the slight incommodity of others, then with the apprehension of his own imminent death!  
At last he cheerfully advancing forward, the Lieutenant came before him; and the Baron casting himself upon his knee, said to me, In courtesy, Father, take off my hat: Which the good Gentleman observing, 
z A kind contention who should most exceed in courtesy.  did with a most bitter and loud cry of tears even spread himself all upon the ground; and all the bystanders upon that occasion did cast themselves upon their knees; nor was there any thing heard but a loud voice of tears. This generous young Lord said then thus to him. Sir, do not weep; I had no design but to salute you; to thank you; and to beg pardon, as now I do, both of yourself, and in your person, at the hands of all those who are present here; desiring them to learn at my cost, and to pray for my Soul. This he said with so strong a voice, as that he was heard, notwithstanding the noise of their weeping. I also was not able to stay my tears; when he, leaning towards mine ear, spoke these very words now below, as before he had done above: Behold, your Reverence is weeping; and yet still you tell me I must have a Noble Heart.  
Then having repeated divers times, In manus tuas Domine, commendo spiritum meum; and, Suscipe me Domine, secundum eloquium tuum, & non confundas me ab expectatione mea; he was wished to ascend and then to lay himself down upon the Scaffold. At the same instant one of the Confortatori saying to him, Cheerfully Signior Troilo, courageously Signior Troilo; and a whole cry of prayers being raised and made by all the company for him, that valiant Heart did answer even with a smiling countenance; 
a A noble, and holy valiant heart.  Know (a) Gentlemen, that I die cheerfully for the Love of Jesus Christ, and in Penance for my sins.  
As he was laying down his head; where (said he) is the Father? And turning towards the Executioner, he said, Stay a while; for I will be reconciled. And beckoning me first towards him with his countenance; Father (said he) on this hand I place my 
(b) These Saints he used as intercessors for him to Christ our Lord.  Good Angel; and on that S. Paul, and S. John Baptist; our B. Lady shall stand before. Your Reverence must remember to perform the promise you made me. I will say, O bone Jesus esto mihi Jesus; O good Lord Jesus, he thou a Jesus to me; and when you shall see the cord is in cutting, you must say, Egote absolvo, etc. that so when I shall invoke the name of Jesus, and you absolve me; my soul may begin her journey from this body of mine towards heaven, by the mercy of my Lord, as I confide it shall.  
I ingeniously confess I was so extremely amazed within myself, and fell into such an excess of weeping, that I had not a word to answer at the instant, but in the language of tears. And he, in laying his head upon the block, expressly spoke these very words: Dear Father, draw near me. Let is suffice, and I take you to witness, That 
(c) So that his memory and courage was far from failing him; and perhaps there is hardly to be found in any history a nobler Character of wisdom, prudence of mind, magnanimity, and sanctity.  I protest myself in my desire to lay down a thousand heads, in this one head of mine; and in this one life to offer up a thousand lives. I accuse myself for not doing it with that fervour of devotion, that vehemency of Contrition, and that promptitude of resignation, which I have been told and taught. But I know not how to do more. I accuse myself as truly of all the sins I have confessed to your Reverence, as if now I did repeat them to you one by one. In Penance, if it please you, I will give my head to Christ as a punishment most deserved by me; and of you I desire Absolution.  
So did this Noble heart, which neither was, nor was to be conquered or daunted, lay down that head upon the block. And saying then, Bring 
(d) See how this true Christian courage continues even to the end, and in the end.  hither the Crucifix that I may see it; he began also to say, O bone Jesus, sis mihi Jesus; O good Lord Jesus, be a Jesus to me, being accompanied by all the people, who were already upon their knees, and who also invoked the name of Jesus. And myself standing close at the one side of his head, and looking still when the Executioner would go about to cut the cord, as soon as I saw the knife lifted up for that purpose, I said outright, Ego 
(e) I absolve thee from all thy sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Ghost.  te absolvo ab omnibus peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, & Filii, & Spiritus Sancti, Amen. He did then both more speedily and more loudly than was his custom, say O Jesus, sis mihi Jesus; O Jesus, be thou a Jesus to me. And at the instant, his head flew off at once, from his body, myself, with many others also beholding that head thus separated from the body, to produce the last syllable of the name JESUS, with a strong kind of hiss, or whisper. And I doubt not but the Son flew up immediately into 
(f) His body was interred in the Chiesa Nuova.  Heaven; adorning all his former life with a most holy end; upon that very day of the year whereon the most Illustrious Lord his Father had departed this life, before this Son of his was born; that being the eighteenth of April, Anno Domini 1574. this the eighteenth of the same month. 1592.  
FINIS.   

The CONTENTS. With an Explication of the ITALIANISMS.  

THe hirth, person and parts of this noble man. pag. 5. & 125  
His Crimes, both Rapes and Murders. p. 8.  
The Banditi in Italy are outlaws and Rebels, condemned and proscribed by Proclamation (in that language termed Bando) like our Moss-troopers, or the Turries of Ireland. p. 8.  
Castle Saint Angelo, the chief Prison in Rome. p. 10.  
This ha●ned in the beginning of P. Clement 8. his Fontificate. p. 12.  
Theatins an Order of Religious persons, instituted by John Peter Caraff, Bishop of Theate in Naples. p. 13.  
His Mother became unwill●rgly the occasion of her sons reproachful death. p. 15.  
The vanity of worldly pleasure exhibited by a fit Emblem. p. 16.  
The way of the Cross is the most safe. p. 17.  
The benefits of affliction. p. 18  
The resignation and humility of the noble Youth. p. 22,  
The often confessing his sins. p. 24, 25.  
The several manners of proceeding against Delinquents in other Countries compared with ours. p. 30, 31.  
The Fathers of the Chiesa Nova. 1. the new Church, are Priests of the Oratory of Jesus, instituted by S. Philip Nereus. p. 39, 65.  
How the young Lord behaved himself when he received the first news of his death. p. 40  
The manicling his hands. p 42.  
The manner how he was met by the Confortatori. 1. the Comforters. p. 43.  
The first thing he did was to confess himself. p 44.  
Accepts of God's providence with great alacrity. p. 46.  
Makes a declaration of his Faith. p. 47.  
The pious Instructions, & Communications of the Confortatori. p. 50, 51, 111, 114.  
His Will made, and the particulars of it. p. 52, 53.  
It must have seven witnesses in Italy to make it valid. p 55.  
How he disposed his body. p. 55.  
His admirable Contrition. p. 60, 61, 69.70  
His unspeakable grief for his disob●●tance to his Mother. p. 63, 97, 117.  
How she educated him. p. 64 65.  
Her invincible love and care of him. p. 67, 68, 69.  
His exact method in Confessing. p. 60.  
He did even melt between grief and love. p. 62.  
His willingness to die. p. 67.  
Punishment imposed may be made voluntary by a voluntary acceptation of it. p. 83.  
His Devotions to his good Angel. p. 86, 87 88  
His ejaculatory Prayers. p 92.  
He said the Litanies and all the Fathers wept. p. 94.  
The Providitore in Italian signifies a Provider, but here it is tak●● for an Officer am●ng the Confor●atori della misericorcia, or Sodality of mercy. p 43 64.  
His last message and recommendations 〈◊〉 his Mother. p 97 98.  
To his Grandmother. p. 100L.  
His humble message to the Pope. p. 102  
He found no trouble nor temptation in himself. p. 112.  
His dovout receiving the Blessed Sacrament. p. 107.  
His pious and prudent Answers to several questions. p. 115, 118.  
His Devotion to our B. Lady. p. 119.  
The Confortatori wept bitterly. p. 125.  
He asked pardon of the Soldiers. p. 127.  
Remarks of his admirable Carriage. p 128.  
He fell into an ardent weeping. p. 130.  
For his sins, not his death. p. 131.  
His great piety and gratitude. p. 132.  
His words to the Executioner. p. 133.  
A loud voice of tears among the Spectators. p. 139.  
His cheerfulness at the last moment. p. 135, 140.  
His advice to the people. 137.139.  
The L. Governor wept passionately. p 138.  
S. Troilo's last jaculatory, Prayers. 139 142  
His last words at the block. p. 144.  
His Ghostly Father's tears. p. 141.  
His Execution. p. 143.  
The death and burial of Signora Flaminia his Mother. p. 13.    

ERRATA.  
Page. 29. line 19 de le not, p. 41. l. 3. r B. Lady. p. ●6. l. 3. p 6. r consortat. p 27. l. 11. r from. off p. 58. l 74. r one's sins. p. 65. l. 18 r particular. p. 67, l 2.3. r whereby, p. 59 l. 1. r commited. p 62 l. 23. r might p. 83. l. 23. r ●he night. p. 83. P. 91 l. 6. r occasion. As. p. 95. in margin. r whole, ofice of. p. 1 26. l. 6. r peace. p. 1 18. l. 10. r said he. p. 121. in margin r entrance.