THERE is nothing so certaine as death, ei­ther vncertain as the momēt therof. Wherfore the holy Doctor saith: Keepe thy selfe continually in that e­state wherein thou desirest to dye. And y^e Prouerbe goeth, that many a one thin­keth himselfe in perfect health, when he beareth death in his bosome. To say the troth we doe continually carrie death a­bout with vs. It is in vs immediatly after we take life and mouing in our mothers wombe: and wheresoeuer we walke it is still at our heeles: If wee take horse, it is with vs: If wee bee on the water, it is the [Page 2] guyde of our Shippe: so as we can neuer say death to bee absent from vs: for our selues are very death, and no part of our bodie immortall: wherefore those that suppose themselues to liue in this world are farre deceiued in their owne opini­ons, and the pilgrimage of man in this world is but a shadowe of life, which vn­to vs seemeth life, but in deede is none. The better therefore to describe the said shadow, I will make an abstraction of the dead time of mans age from the full and greatest age that a creature can liue in the world. [...]pish De­ [...]es do ra­ [...]er imitate [...]y Duns [...]en the [...]ophet [...]uid, who [...]teth [...]wne the [...] of man [...] consist of [...]. yeares. First, the longest age that mā can liue in this world is but sixe score yeares.

From sixe score yeres we must deduct the nightes, for man when he sleepeth liueth not, besides that sleepe is termed the Image of death, so that deducting the nightes, which comprehēd one halfe of the time, man liueth but three score yeares in the world.

Whiles man liueth these sixtie yeares, he liueth but the one halfe of them, for if he haue one day of mirth and quiet he hath an other of sorrowe and care, be­cause [Page 3] griefe doth still secretly creepe in­to mirth. And any person troubled with cares or vexed in mind, doth rather dye then liue, wee must therefore take from the sixtie yeares afore said the one halfe, and so there remaine but thirtie.

Now, let vs see whether in the space of sixe score yeares a man may not passe away tenne at the least in sicknesse, mis­chaunces, or other infirmities? I may tell you there is no mā that liueth sixe score yeares in the world, but at seuerall times and during his sayd age he hath aboue tenne yeares infirmitie: and therfore we must take from the thirtie yeares which are the remainder of mans life yet tenne yeares, and then there are but twentie left.

Which are now the twentie yeares of his life? We must take them at his infan­cie and in his oldest age: that is, tenne yeares from his very childhood, and the other tenne from his extreme olde age: but sith aswell in Infancie as in extremi­tie of age there is no life, but rather a li­uing death, I conclude, that man hath not one only howre of life in this world, [Page 4] also that whosoeuer seeketh life in this world doth much deceiue himselfe. In heauen therefore it is that wee must as­sure our selues to liue, and seeke for life, but not vppon earth where death doth continually haunt vs. For wee ought to dye to the world, to the end to be borne in Iesus Christ.

According to the soueraigne sentence and decree, [...]ppie [...]wes to [...]: true [...]urch, [...]en the [...]embers [...] Anti­ [...]rist de­ [...]ease. O ye Enhabitaunts of Roome wee see your great Bishoppe and mine is dead: behold our Crowne is fallen: our Loadstarre vanished away and our light extinguished. And for my owne part, O wretch and miserable man, who am de­priued of him, of two thinges, I wish for one, that is, either neuer to remember the good that wee haue lost, either els calling the same to minde to finde some one that were able to giue me comfort correspondent to the greatnesse of the heauinesse whereinto I am fallen. And in deede my selfe doe now come into the Pulpit vpon two seuerall occasions mere contrary each to other, viz. to rehearse the greatnesse of the good that is taken from vs, and to comforte those that su­staine [Page 5] the losse: nay, rather to doe two things which seeme to repugne each o­ther: for if it bee true that nothing doth more aggrauate the griefe of the losse, then the remembraunce of the valew of the thing lost; then doth nothing seeme more contrary to the comfort of the li­uing thē the praises of him that is dead, as in this cace, wherein so farre doe the merites of the deceased exceed, that the arrowes which pearce his heart that is depriued of him are the more sharp and grieuous. Howbeit some man would an­swere, that contrariwise by the commē ­dations of him y^t is departed we doe de­clare that he is not dead, but liueth, and thus wee may by little and little asswage the sorrowe of our losse and domage in whatsoeuer maner. But as it were hard for a Painter in the face of a sorrowfull person to represent a smyling counte­naunce, so doth it seeme to me a difficult enterprize to vndertake to comforte a man by rehearsing the vertues of him that is taken away from vs: and that the more if we should enter into considera­tion of him y^t is spoken of: of your selues [Page 6] that are the hearers: & of me y^t do make the discourse: for in each of these three, the same circumstaunces that seeme to make my enterprize easie, are those that in deede doe yeeld it most difficult and troublesome. As if a man should in re­spect of him say, that if the multitude of his great vertues doe seeme to abridge my labour in seeking some argument whereupon to ground his praises:Childish [...]easons and [...]orse De­ [...]initie. so cō ­trariwise the aboundaunce of so great vettues doe hold me so short, that I can not certainly resolue vpon the choyse of one onely whereupon worthely to com­mend him: For you, if a man should say, in that you all knewe him and vsed him to your great profite, it should seeme suf­ficient for me, onely to discipher mat­ters: so contrariwise your owne perfect knowledge together with your dealings with him, would sufficiently open vnto you all my defaults in displaying of him. And for my own part, if an infinite cour­tesies and great fauours wherewith he hath alwaies gratefied mee doe seeme without seeking any cunning to breede in mee as much affection as is requisite: [Page 7] so by contrary reason, the great fauours and benefites wherwith he hath alwaies gratefied me doe not leaue me any cun­ning meanes to hinder me from hauing greater affectiō then is here to be requi­red of me. And this was the principall reason that moued me somewhat to re­fuse this so honorable a Commission, & vnto mee in many other respectes most welcome, and to request you to appoint and commit to some other the charge to discourse hereupon, and to leaue vnto me teares and lamentations onely.

But now vnto thee, Oh my good ma­ster and father (for so will I alwayes call thee) doe I turne my selfe: May it bee possible that this my oratiō which late­ly in thy life thou diddest harken vnto, should now bee employed in praysing of thee beeing dead, either that this my tongue which employing me to the ser­uice of this countrey, thou diddest too greatly honor should now be occupied, helas, in lamentations for thy so hurtful death to all Christiandome? And what? hast thou then brought mee so ioyfully to Roome, to the end here to celebrate [Page 8] thy funeralles? Oh how that Commis­sion to reade Hieremie might well fore­shewe vnto mee (but I perceiued it not) that my Lecture thereof should ende in lamentations, and now behould that di­uination accomplished! see Quomodo se­det sola Ciuitas, how the Citie sitteth de­solate, notwithstanding it be Plena popu­lo, full of people:No Spouse but a Strū ­pet spotted with spiri­tuall forni­cation. also howe this spouse, The Church of Roome, who by greate brightnesse seemed to bee Domina gen­tium, Lady of Nations, now hauing lost thee, Est facta quasi Vidua, is made as it were a Widowe: and as a Widowe all dipped in teares and lamentations, wil­leth mee to celebrate the prayses of her deere spouse, which she all wholy togi­ther can not celebrate: wherin although I can not (as in trueth I am not able) at­teyne to the least parcell of thy desertes,Beastly and blasphe­mous deui­nitie, fit for so leaud a Bishop and so vnlear­ned a Chaplaine. which are not well to be expressed, yet at all aduentures I assure my selfe, O happy soule, that as in thy lyfe time thou did­dest pardon mee a number of other im­perfections, so now thou wilt likewise forgiue mee this: I knowe that as thou wert accustomed, thou wilt make bet­ter [Page 9] accompt of the good will then of the glose and pompe of wordes, and as discreete, shalt well see, that not onely I, but also that no Oratour is able to at­teyne to the type of thy commendati­ons. Among the which my Lords and ye my hearers, I doe freely confesse, that I haue greatly doubted whether I were best to begin, as I take the maner to be, at the greatenesse and eminencie of the famely from whence he is extract: and at the first I was purposed so to doe, and that y^e rather because it is not yet scarce two monethes sence that my selfe heard him in this Temple, discourse how our Sauiour Iesus Christ was content to bee borne of a Mother though poore, yet Noble, and discended of a Noble race, also that Nobilitie was very effectuall euen to spirituall life, as it may be sayd of him that is noble, that whether it bee through conformitie or resemblance of mind with his predecessors, either tho­rowe the remembrance of such things as they haue done, either els through the effect of good bringing vp, or for whatsoeuer other reason, hee is better [Page 10] disposed to doe well: that nobilitie ser­ueth him as a spurre to goodnesse and a bridle to euill, also that as the precious stone being ser in Gould maketh a grea­ter shew then in Iron, euen so the same vertuous deedes doe giue a more effec­tuall example when they proceede from noble personages then from men of base estate, with other things which hee spake to the same purpose. Howbeit I will not speake thereof, in that it might be accompted rashnesse in mee euen in Roome to seeke to make his holinesse fa­mely more famous then it is. It may bee that some may say that this famely doth want glorious titles, preeminence, ri­ches, possessions, Iurisdictions, preten­tions of rights, patronages, auncient pe­tidegrees of their predecessors, commē ­dations of learning, prayse of armes, no­ble & famous alliances either in Italy or without, and to be briefe, all such things collected into one, as being seuerally ta­ken are sufficient to set a fayre shewe vp­on a whole progenie. Notwithstandin [...] all these things which are terestriall an [...] too common with others, and for the [Page 11] causes aforesayde his holynesse percei­uing, as hee perceyued all things, that it is not enough for a horse to be of a good race, except him selfe be also good, and that they are happie and wise, who as the sea, doe not receiue the sweetnesse of this vaine glory of the riuers of their predecessors, but returning their course and swelling ouer the mouthes of the ri­uers them selues, can yeeld to their fore­runners the reward of firme and perma­nent commendation, so of that great nobilitie which he had brought forth of his mothers wombe with him, hee did therein onely yeeld thankes to God for that his actions with their circumstāces, thereby, and in respect therof were more notable and exemplarie.

Oh most happy parson, who in the middest of so great eminencie of birth, could so well subdue pryde,A simili­tude most fondly ap­plied. and in him­selfe giue example vnto other! Euen like vnto the pearle which although it lyeth in the bottom of the sea, yet keeping it [...]fe close in the shel, and neuer opening [...] it ascendeth to receiue the dewe of heauen, we find therein no smell, no sa­uour, [Page 12] or droppe that tasteth of her sea, but being pure, cleare and white, it see­meth to be formed euen in heauen. We must not therfore take commendations of this people at the transitory things of the sea of this world, and although he be therein extract of a most noble birth, yet will I not say any more thereof as of that which is none of his.

But discoursing and speaking of that which properly appertaineth to himself, I would aske whether his minde com­maunded not his bodie? Also whether it were possible to find a bodie more wi­thered, afflicted, macerated, dried vp, or pale through the effect of austere and hard penaunce? Other mens bodies (O Christian hearers) are for the most part wished to bee of this or that forme, be­cause they yeeld such or such inclination to the minde, but in this I will shew you a matter worth the noting, that is, that here the cace was altered, for it was the minde that ministred inclination to the bodie, so that beeing waxen altogether spirituall, had not extreame need forced him, hee neuer desired meate, drinke, or [Page 13] bodily rest: and he liued in such sort as it was a miracle (whereof, helas, wee haue but too soone seene the issue,) how hee could liue so many yeares, but rather li­uing was dead: And for my part I assure you, I neuer, euen in the hart of Somer, kissing his holy hands (good God shall I neuer doe so more?) found them other then colde, wherein there was no heate except the same proceeded of some ex­cesse or immoderate labour, or of some motion of a sodaine feuer. O most deare bodie O most holy members! But looke yet once againe vppon them, O ye Ro­maine people, and say: Are not these the very handes which so often haue beene ioyned together and lifted vp to pray & offer Sacrifice for vs?The head which sought to ouerthrow the true Church, disswade subiects f [...] their aleg [...]ance to thei Pri [...] & to mai [...]taine his owne Pō [...] and glor [...] Bee not these the feete that haue trauailed so farre for our sakes? Is not this the head that neuer i­magined any thing but for our bene­fite? Is not this the heart that burned in loue of vs? O deare members! O mem­bers so deare! What? You then shall goe vnder the earth? And what? You must be buried? Helas my God! who is it that thou hast taken away frō vs? And wher­fore [Page 14] do ye hide your selues? For my part, none but onely death shall euer plucke out of my heart the liuely Image of that so welbeloued countenaunce. Especially in this act wherein with your eyes to­ward heauen as it were smiling, and with an Angelicall countenaunce I see you depart and remaine dead.

But it is time for vs, O Christian hea­rors[?], to proceede to matters of greater importance, which are so many & with­al so intangled one within an other, that I could not finde any more fit meane to part and deuide thē, neither do I thinke that we can take any better course, then the very course of his holy life: and there to beginne.

When he was a litle childe he was ve­ry deuoute, and it is well knowne that God euen in his first youth wrought in him merueilous signes of singuler good­nesse. The like is read of S. Basile, S. Gre­gory, S. Dominick, S. Frances, and many o­thers, as was to bee seene in this young childe, (say they that doe remember it) namely, that at his returne frō the Col­ledge, all the delight that that age vsed [Page 15] to take in any other thing, he tooke on­ly in framing of little Aulters, adorning of small Chappels, and counterfaiting of holy thinges. Matters, which although the wisest may thinke too base for this place, & for the occasion now ministred, yet would I not onely not disdaine, but also take great and singuler pleasure in the same. And although some doe say that among such serious affayres such small trifles should haue no place, yet do I delight to shewe how commendable, not onely graue matters, but euen such small thinges were in him. Concerning the rest, according to the proportion of his age, or rather beyond the reach of that age (as occasions doe encrease so must my stile arise) his holinesse beeing past the inferiour Schooles, and com­ming to studie the Law, it is not possible to make an ende of writing with what modestie and grauitie hee there passed the yeares of his studie:The conti­nencie and virginitie of the Popish Clergie doth consist in keeping of Concu­bines. he was apparel­led in Clarkes attire, but, which was of greater importaunce, he obserued Cler­gie maners, much continencie, (as it is supposed) perpetual virginitie, with mo­dest [Page 16] behauiour, no vanitie, continual stu­die: These were his exercizes: and to be briefe, although through our mishaps the Vniuersitie wherein he studied were not vsually either the quietest or the ho­liest in the world, yet might the writing of Naziauzene concerning the Great Ba­sille and the towne of Athens be applied to him. Like as, there is one riuer which flowing through the Sea, taketh no bit­ternesse thereof: also a certaine beast that liueth in the fire & consumeth not, euen so he with great quietnesse passing these troubles, and with soueraigne ver­tue such vices, did first and most worthe­ly atteine to the doctorall degree, and afterwarde was called to Roome, and made Cardinall onely through desert, for his learned studies, and not by fauour as the most part doe now vsually practize.

A happie departure, a blessed iorney for al the holy Church, but especially for this great Citie of Roome, which haue re­ceiued so great benefites and so much comfort at his hands. Notwithstanding whatsoeuer affayres he had in hand, yet did hee daylie applie his studie at a cer­taine [Page 17] howre, and so continued his studie euen to his death, with so deepe iudge­ment and good successe, that although his intellectuall habitudes had not very farre beene surmounted and darkened through the merueilous brightnesse of his morall and theologall vertues, yet in respect of his learning and studie onely, he deserued great praise, and in troth he was neuer other then most learned and a great fauourer of learned men. Who did euer shewe them more pleasure, or receiue them more courteously? Besides the Seminaries and Colledges, as well at Pauy as here, the Lectures, the Stipends, with such and so many thinges done to behoofe of learning, & besides the boo­kes which hee hath of himselfe written: and now that the bridle of his modestie doth no longer deteine, I hope, as my selfe haue seene them, so comming to light, all the world shall behold them, & in them perceiue as in him selfe whether were more the holy writinges or good maners. This lo [...]e of learning and holi­nesse of life he practized[?] so diligently in himselfe, that through Gods grace, and [Page 18] the inspiration of the holy Ghost, he was in respect of his vertues, knowledge, and holy life, elected Pope, & his name from Hugh good Companion, [...]ood com­ [...]nion to [...]raytors, [...] euil cō ­ [...]nion to [...]e godly. was chaunged and called Gregory the xiij. During his Papa­cie he liued so religiously and deuoutly, that the whole life of a man were little e­nough to rehearse the same. But herein I repose my self vpon that zeale which I perceiue in euery one to commend him, wherby I may shortly see so many proo­fes, verses, and rithmes, with such histo­ries, so many Orations, and volumes to his honor, that all these thinges, as well such as I cannot touch, as the rest which I mention and speake of, shall briefly be disciphered and liuely coloured foorth. For now to rehearse all the holy workes of our good Sheepheard, or to endeuour to set foorth that very patterne of a Bi­shop which he hath expressed in himself, to say trueth, I thinke vnpossible, and much lesse to beleeue that the very sum­marie of those things that he hath done may be drawne into any anales or chro­nicle. Neither can I cōceiue any meanes to attaine therto, vnlesse some one haue [Page 19] in forme of remēbrances been dayly col­lecting the course of his deeds & works. For my part in this short discourse that I haue to prosecute, as one not able to to restraine the whole sea, I will goe see if I may gather the water at the riuers and brookes from whēce this sea doth arise, that is, from his vertues, which in him haue wrought so many holy workes, notwithstanding I might at once in gene­rall words say that all vertues beseeming a Bishop, which S. Paule and others doe speake of: were to be found in him. He­las how this holy Shepheard burned in loue, how hee made him selfe leane for you!The Wolf is dead, a [...] the Sheep [...] wāt a goo [...] Sheephea [...] O ye poore artificers, Ladies, yong infants and poore beggers? helas ye all haue lost your Father, the shepheard is dead, and the sheepe remaine a pray to the wolues. How so euer it is here of may we plainly see O Roome, that he bare thee singuler good will: and in deede (for I will not conceale thy commendation) it is euident that thou diddest answere his good will with reciprocall amitie, wit­nesse this thy assembly: these Sobs and these Teares doe testifie thy acknowled­ging [Page 20] thereof, besides all other thinges, helas! twoo bitter and too sweete toge­ther, euen y^t night of his departure, was to you and to me infortunate: O great, O great pittie, what could be seen more worthy compassion and teares, then the fearefull stirre of the people? It see­med, when the most horrible sound of the Bell called Aue-Maria, How could [...]he Pope [...]eede the [...]rayers of men, sith [...]imself can [...]orgiue sins. that gaue notice of his death, to the ende to pray to GOD for him, sent the Furyes to all both men and women: One ranne here, another there, some two togither, others without order or reason: al wept: all cryed: all houled out, saying. Ah, good GOD whereto are wee brought? What shall become of vs? If the infecti­on doth afflict vs who shall pray for vs? Ah that we had not deserued it! Oh how God is wroth with vs! with many other exclamations sufficient to haue rent the Marble stones, and clouen the walles in sunder. Hee was a man of much prayer and reading, as euer was any, and in pri­uate behauiour had not his like. Two thinges there were that made him won­derfull wise: The one, he would in all af­fayres [Page 21] heare counsayle: The other, hee had stil recourse to prayer. Truely he was as wise as holy, I confesse that in respect of his example onely I learned to vnder­stand this place of S. Paule concerning his care of all the Churches. Quis infir­matur & ego non infirmor: Quis scandali­zatur, & ego non vror? Who is weake and I am not sicke? Or who is offended and I burne not? And that which fol­loweth. To bee briefe, toward the end of his dayes, and beeing hoare heared, hee conceiued two excellent imagina­tions: The one concerning that great and wonderfull Colledge that is now at buylding in your Roome, for the tea­ching (a wonderfull matter) of all Lan­guages in the word: The other, the same which he propounded and began to put in execution touching the recouery of the goods of the Cath. Apost. Romish Church.Some Tra [...] terous deuice for th [...] persecutiō of the Gospell. The same was it which he did so highly commend to the Cleargie, yea to the Christian princes, and to his Succes­sor, to the end that y^e Romayne Sea might recouer the full brightnesse of her glory, and to depriue the enemy of mankinde [Page 22] of that innumerable gaine of soules, that through his subtilty he doth daily make.

These were his last words when he left vs with the water in our eyes, and sorrow in our heartes, for the losse of a thing of so great value. Neuerthelesse, sith it is to no purpose to weepe, it resteth that wee doe two things: The one, that so much as in vs lyeth, we endeuour to re­teyne those notable institutions, and walk in that path which he hath prescri­bed for vs: The other, that we haue re­course to God with prayer, that he will send vs a Successor worthy him, and that as Simplician succeded S. Ambrose: so to this Ambrose another Simplician in ver­tue and holinesse may succeede.

This is that small matter, Oh blessed soule, which my foolish and vnmeete tongue is able this day to vtter of thee in middest of these sighes and lamentati­ons. Now shall it cease: howbeit, at time conuenient, both this day and euer, my hart shall discourse of thee. Oh wretch that I am, O ye Romayne people, to whō hapneth still the contrary of that which happened to the Romaine Souldier, that [Page 23] was wounded and maymed vpon one of his legs, at a certaine victory that he ob­teyned, for he sayd, that at euery steppe that he set, and vpon the least payne that he felt of his leg, he called to mynde the most honorable blason of his glory: but I contrariwise, in the least commendati­ons that I may obteyne, shall thinke vp­on my losses: For when so euer I shall boste, that I haue bene seruant to such a holinesse, & so great a parsonage, I must necessarily withall remember what a good I am depriued of. Let vs therefore pray to our good GOD, that it may please him of his grace with his holy spi­rite to inspire the most reuerent Cardi­nals, the Electors of the holy Apost. and Roomish sea, to the end his holinesse suc­cessor, succeeding in the holy Sea, may likewise succeede in those vertues and holinesse, wherewith he was en­dued and reple­nished.

AMEN.