THE Penitent Bandito: Or the HISTORY Of the Conversion & Death of the most Illustrious Lord Signor Troilo Sauelli, 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, [Page 4]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 smal. I have therefore, at once, ta­ken both pains, and plea­sure, to draw store of Co­pies into my hand, and it has not been without suc­cesse. 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 neer it, and that it is precisely true. And this Elogium I will be bold to give the Discourse [Page 5]we have in hand that it has been read in several Coun­tries with extream 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, then this.

The birth, person, and parts of this Noble Man.The Person whom it con­cerns was a Baron of Rome, Sig. Troile Sauelli, 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 it self, so that, I will not here, by putting you [Page 6]to paynes, prevent the plea­sure which there you wil 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 [Page 7]accept of that liberty; but speaking onely, in general, words, of sin at large; heThe inviolable seal of the Sacrament of Confes­sion; and how ten­der a good Ghostly Father, is, and ought 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 termes 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 [Page 8]to keep him in the disciplin [...] of piety, and vertue) h [...] sprouted out into great ex­orbitances; and, in the Com­pany, and at the head of theThese are men who for murthers, and other extream insolencies 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 Murthers [...] 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 moath, and can­ker of lewd company, did soon corrode it.

Yet even herein was not his misery so great, as theIt 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 excesse, and riot, was such, in the exterior, as wounded his noble and ten­der Mother to the very soul. The passages and proceed­ings whereof, are delivered in the History it self, with so great tenderness, in the person of her son, as strikes the heart of him that reads the words. I will not therefore touch that [Page 10]flowre, 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 mindes, who read this story.

YouA cir­cumstance of great impor­tance, to­wards the moving of compas­sion. shall therefore understand, that when the Mother had used all other possible endeavors, both di­vine and humane, for the re­duction, and reformation of her son, and all in vain (for ought she was able to per­ceive) she caused him, for some offences (which yet, were far from being Ca­pital) to be committed to CastleThis is the chief prison in Rome, as the Tow­er in Lon­don. S. Angelo, in hope [Page 11]that such a disgrace, with the help of time, would make him return into him­self. To this course she was the more encourag'd, and in this hope the more confirmd 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 Gods providence.

HeAny little en­trance in­to Publick disgrace carries danger with it. was no sooner in prison, but the fire of eager opposition brake forth of their hearts; whom, by his other more enormous inso­lencies, he had offended; for till then, it had been smoother'd under the a­shes of that respect, and re­verence, which they carry­ed towards the Dignity, and [Page 12]Nobility of his House. But now publick Justice taking notice of his excesses, and Pope Clement the eight, in the beginning of his Pontificate, being desirous to shew a strong example, of what im­partial Justice the world was to expect at his hands; (espe­cially in repressing and ex­tinguishing that damnd crue 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 [Page 13]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, & undanted incomparable magnanimity.

But whilst theThis 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 Marquess of Riano: Her name was la 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 [Page 14]wise, and infinitely goodThe 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 theThe 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 onely suffer, in satisfaction of the divine Justice, but pass on by merits, (all grounded upon the mercy of Jesus Christ ourNo 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, byThe omnipo­tency of God, is not tied to means, but works his will, how he pleases. casting dirt [Page 15]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 suddain, 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 (wch (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 [Page 16]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 boatA fit emblem to shew the vanity of wotldly pleasure. of musick, 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 [Page 17](yea and men, who have his grace, are not ignorant) that a course of felicity not interrupted, or check'd by contrary winds, is a kind of fortune (for as much as concerns the next life) which in this deserves ra­ther pity, then envy; and that, ever since the death of Jesus Christ our Lord, the way of the Crosse, isThe Crosse 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 enjoy'd by man, if it died not as soon as it was born (which yet is the ordi­nary case ofWorld­ly pleasure speaks fair but it lies. worldly plea­sure [Page 18]at least, if it lived till it could learn to speak, it told as many lies, as it uttered words; and charm'd them first, whom quickly after, it might lead towards a preci­pice.

How desolate, would a worldling think, the case of Signor 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? AndAf­fliction, made the Mother, and the Son, seem miserable, and be happy. yet with all, is it both well known, that the Mothers loss of such a son, did cast her much more close upon an union and sole [Page 19]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 Charitie, 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 Monarchs of the whole world, may be accounted miserable, according to their present state, in respect of him. Our dear Lord Jesus, be [Page 20]eternally praised (and not onely 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 toHe could easi­ly honour himself o­therwise, without a­ny benefit to us, if he were so pleased. place the point of his honour, in shewing 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 our selves of the Sacraments, and other remedies, he has left in the bosom of his holy Catholick Church) but the adorning also of [Page 21]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, thenThis 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 [...] [Page 24]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 cloaths, and require [...] him to submit himself t [...] those scourges, those thorn [...] those nailes, those blasphe­mies, for our sakes, and sins yet, on the other side, thi [...] An ug­ly and abo­minable presumpti­on. man, this proud rebelli­ous worm, this crum o [...] dust, this drop of filth migh [...] keep, forsooth, a kin [...] of State, and should no [...] rather submit himself (i [...] imitation of the humilit [...] only to superiours, but t [...] equals, and even inferiour [...] also, and in fine to al [...] [Page 23] This is the advice of S. Peter Subditi e­stote omini creaturae. the world when just occa­sion should be offer'd.

The soul of this noble man, was so well softned, and sweetned by the unction of the Holy Ghost; as that neither the greatnesse of his Nobility, nor the ardor of his youth, nor the natural boyling cou­rage of his heart, nor the fresh memory of his prosperity, nor the unexpected arrival of his misery, could makeA heart truely touched by Gods holy spi­rit, wil 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 ful 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 [Page 24] rich, or poor, is little to the purpose; butwherin 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 meeknesse, at the will of the meanest Jaylors, for the love of our Lord, to signifie thereby the detestation where­in he had himself, for having so presumptuously offended that Eternal Majesty, which by all the Angels is adored.

FromThe 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, [Page 25]and ingratitude, wherewith he had answered the un­speakable benefits of Al­mighty God. Wherein if any man should think he used excesse, it will be much more lawful for me to doubt, that himself, either has a mean conceit of the Infinite Majestie 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 then Nothing, which afterward he grew, by sinning. ForIf you weigh these things well, you will change your wondring at him, in­to won­dring at your self. he that ponders these par­ticulars, as he ought, and knowes, that the offences into which he falls are [Page 26]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 beleeve that in the space of a night, it is hard for one to be too curious, and too careful, in setting straight 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 goodnesse of God, ac­quire [Page 27]quire newGreat 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 inferiour 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. AndThe un­daunted courage of this Baron. that, no thought of death, had any power, to take the least clarity from his un­derstanding; [Page 28]the least presence from his memory; the least agility from his wit; the least order from his speech; or so much as the least puntillio from the civil respects and complements, which are used 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 processe of this Relati­on) he shall find to have been observed by the Baron, in this lastThis curtesie and com­plement was not affected, but free and natu­ral. kind of courtesie, did proceed from the least affecta­tion of it. Perhaps, if we look neer home, we may find some example to have been given of this, not long ago; but in the present case, no suspiti­on of it can be entertain'd; [Page 29]both for many other reasons, which will occur to him that reads the Relation; and because (as I sayd before) these exact tearms of Honor, 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) then it would cost others, to ob­serve where they were not so natural, as being learnt 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 [Page 30]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 foot-steps of putting men to death, and the proceedings a­gainstThe se­veral manners of treat­ing De­linquents in several Countrys 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 Processe of crimi­nal persons, is ever made, in the face of the world; but they are not sufferd to have any Advocates who may defend their causes. In most other [Page 31]Countrys, the Delinquents are permitted to have Advocates but the Processe is made, though in publique Court, yet only in presence of the Iudges and some few Advo­cates, and Officers. With us, the Delinquents are suffer'd to live som dayes after their con­demnation; which certainly is meant in compassion to them; in other parts, after they are judged to dy, and that it is so declared, they think they do men a greater curtesy, 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, unlesse it be, in some very rare case, by most [Page 32]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 ofsuch 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 insolen­cies.

But for as much, as con­cernes the comfort of crimi­nals, in the preparation of their souls, towards the death of their bodyes, I cannot but note it, as a point of cha­rity, [Page 33]and piety mostIt is the greatest charity, to help men to dye 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 somtimes, discharge their dying hearts of care, either by undertaking to pay som of [Page 34]their debts, or by assisting the poor wife, and children, which are left behind; or by obliging themselves to getS. 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 dy 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 pro­phane stupidity, that, after lives most lewdly led, they go either drunk, or dancing to the Gallowes. 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 rendred; I say not of idle words (which yet must be [Page 35]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 Humilitie, Patience, Curtesie, Magnani­mitie, Obedience, and Cha­ritie. AndAll sorts of people may pro­fit, by the good les­sons here deliver'd. 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 fal'n into it, the more instantly we must implore the mercy and good­ness of Almighty God; and [Page 36]dispose our selvs to the doing of Penance; that so, by his fa­vour, we may secure our souls from the danger of being plung'd into that lake of eter­nal pain. This lesson I say, may reach to al Readers in general. But particular Readers may take out particular lessons for themselvs. The Mother wil ad­monish Mothers to be inces­santly careful for their Chil­dren; the Son will conjure chil­dren from being insolent, or disobedient towards their Pa­rents; and theThese are they who com­fort the Delin­quents in their death. Confortatori will exhort all men to shew charity to their distressed neighbors. And I beseech our Lord Jesus, to grant such gra­ces both to them and me, as divine Majesty knowes to be most needful for us,

T. M.

THE HISTORY OF THE CONVERSION and DEATH Of the Most ILLUSTRIOUS LORD SIGNOR 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 [Page 38]thereby into a desire; if adverse, into a fear. But this death, which now I am about to deliver, does-so imbrace the accidents of all these kinds; that whoever shall read it, as he ought, willThe 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 write, be, in fine, no more then a meer Relation of a Noble mans 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 progresse, and period of this accident, as, in the night when it hapned, I went observing it pace by pace, to the comfort of mine own Soul. ForThis Re­lation is purposely written in a natu­ral, and plain manner. here, all affectation, and ornament of speech, would but prophane the majesty of the thing; and no en­deavor 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 [Page 39]and proper experience, of the ad­mirable effects of Gods 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 meer 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 Fa­thersThese 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 charitie, 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 lesse, 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 atThis might be about ele­ven of the clock at night, after our account. four hours of the [Page 40]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, sayd to him in this manner: ‘Your Lord­ship may be pleased to rise and apparel your self.’ Whereunto he answer'd: 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 beleeve (saies the young Lord) what thou hast told me; but I confesse, thou madest me half a­fraid; and then, sitting up in his bed, he said, Let us apparel our self, in the name of God.

Having begun to put on his cloaths, as he was descending from his bed, Give mee leave, saith he, for so long, as that I may [Page 41]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 thatHe prayed before the Picture, but hee prayed to the B. Virgin to pray for him; and hee thought it no ill way to go by the M ther to the Son, as the Fa­thers, & Saints of Gods Church had done before him. Picture) he sayd, with abundant tears, O blessed and glorious Virgin, O that I might dy, if dy 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 suddainly then he ever used, he rose up, and could not hold from discharging his heart towards his dear Redeemer and the blessed Virgin. This was an ordinary use [Page 42]of his, as afterward those soul­diers, under whose custody he was, related to me; for they of­ten feigning not to see him, did many times perceave, that by stealth he cast himself, upon his knees.

As soon as he was apparail'd, the Officer returning, and doubt­ing, lest (by reason of his fresh youth, being encountred with such a terrible, and suddain ac­cident) he might, through a kind of despairfull rage, either do hurt to himselfe, or others, would needs, upon a suddain, cast the manicles upon his hands; but gently stretching them out; My friend, 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 ma­nicled him, they lead him to­wards the Chappel; when, at the issue out of his chamber, he bles­sedHe ar­med him­self with the sign of the ho­ly Crosse. 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 Crosse, [Page 43]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 busi­nesse, 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 Chappel, he was met by theThere are Con­gregations of Gento in R [...]me (as the [...]e are also in other great Ci­ties of I­taly and Spain) who im­ploy themselvs for the helping condem­ned men, to dy wel. 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 suta­ble to the occasion. Then one of them said to him in this man­ner: ‘My Lord, the hour which God has prefix'd for you, is even run out; render your self 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 my self to him; [Page 44]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 bitternesse 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, suf­ferd himself to be manag'd 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 wher­of (recollecting himself) he said, And The first thing he did, was to confess himself. where is the Confessor? And they shewing him a Priest of their Company, with his Albe These are some of the sa­cerdot al vestments which are used in celebra­ting Di­vine Ser­vice. upon his back, and his Stole a­bout his neck, (that afterward [Page 45]he might say Masse, 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 re­turn [...]d, 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; ‘Signor Troilo, This is that passage, which whoever does once make well, acquires eternal felicitie; 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; butOur Lord Je­sus, doth even the uneven way of death. behold sweet Jesus, who, by his good­nesse, will even it all. Cast your self, my Lord, upon him; [Page 46]and then you, will be able to say with courage, Omnia I can do all things in h [...]m that com­forts me. Pos­sum, in co qui me comfortat.’

He answerd 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 confesse 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 He ac­know­ledges, and ac­cents of Gods provi­dence, with great a­lacrity. the cunning of my Christ to save me, he has made choyce of this way. And then bowing, and baring 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 [Page 47]upon his knees, before the Alter, 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 wandring, but a con­tumacious Son of thyne. To thee it belongs, to smooth and even the ru [...] ­godness of this way; since thou hast been pleased to addresse me by it.

And so, bowing his face even almost down to the ground, he remayn'd a while, in mental Prayer.

Being therefore wished to sit down, he was scarce setled in that posture, when turning towards me, he sayd thus, in mine ear: You, whom, through my good fortune, I have heere, to help me, in this so weighty and high affayr, in the place of God do you command mee. I I [...]e gives himself away to his Gho­stly Fa­ther. give my self, as bound into your hands. The Prince has disposed of my body; do you as much with my soul. I sayd therefore to him: I first desire, my Lord, that you make the pro­testation This is a decla­ration of h [...]s faith with an entier submis­sion to the good will of God. which is wont to be [Page 48]delivered by such as are going to God. Which being publikly pronounced by him, with great sence 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 bent upon God, being offended, as a Creator, as a Preserver, as a Iustifier, 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 them selves which you have committed; and be sory at your hart, for having committed them; andFor who can ever call to mind all his particu­ler sins if not in particular for them all, at least for theHe had al­ready confessed his sinns; and now he is but exhorted to renew his sor­row for them. most greivous of them, which shall represent themselves to your memory. Fourthly, upon the good you [Page 49]have omitted; and the time you have lost; and the yeares you have mispent. Fifthly, upon the scandal you have given. And if any thing more be to be done, ifWe cannot be saved un­lesse 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 your self; 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,He infinitely overcame their ex­pectation. they were now to treat with a [Page 50]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, dispossesse of bitternesse. ‘Confi e, saith he, and cast your thoughts upon him, and say, Pone 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,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 wickednesse of my life frights me, more, than the bit­ternesse 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 favors? [Page 51]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 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 my self; 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 acknowledg 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 names sake, O [Page 52]Lord, thou shalt forgive my sin, for it is great. O how great, said Signor Troilo? Even as great, after a manner, as is the mercy of God, which is immense.

The Proveditore then sayd; ‘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 carryed about him, he suddenly dictated his Testament; wherein he deliver'd some particulars, in my opinion, very considerable. First,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 Ripenesse, which was more than of a young man; be­cause, in a most particular man­n [...]r, he had remembrance of all [Page 53]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 shee would pardon all his adversaryes, as he himself did pardon them a thousand times over. Beseechingwhat a true, and noble Christi­an heart was this? her, by a long, and christian circuit of words, that shee would never resent his death; but hee laid the fault upon himself, in all things.

Fiftly, of Religious Piety; leaving large almes to many Churches, and other holy places; accommodating many poorThis is a de­votion, and cha­rity, much u­sed in I­taly. Virgins, with dowryes, at the particular discretion, and to be perform'd by the care of his heirs; that God might the rather have mercy on him. Sixtly, of entire Iustice; because hee took care, that even more then was due by him, should be restored. [Page 54]Seaventhly, of noble Gratitude; because hee rewarded whosoever had don him any service in pri­son. Eighthly, of affectionate Reverence; because hee did in a most sweet, and dear manner, ask pardon of the Lady his Mo­ther, and the rest of his kinred, besides the expressing of other complements.

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 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 your self, my Lord, to JESƲS. ‘I do so, said he; and he said it instant­ly. And I again, Give your self wholly to him. He said, I do. Consecrate your self; he still said, I do.’ Make your self, said I, entirely his. But how (saith he) O Father, shall I make my self en­tirely [Page 55]his, if I be unworthy, and per­haps his 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 publickly read; that so it might be closed up with a dueA Te­stam nt 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 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 suf­fer'd, 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, [Page 56]will not such an O [...]lation as this do me good? It will, said I, without doubt it will: and whatFor he that gives his body, shews 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 ob­serv'd, by the manner of expres­sing one of them, that he deli­ver'd 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 smoak 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 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 [Page 57] 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 Honor be blasted, according to that accoumpt, 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 answerd, they would give him his hat. But he bad them let it alone, saying, it imported not; and he added, with a soft voyce, Look here a while, they would fain honor this head of mine, which I am to lose, within few hours, for my sinns.

The Will being then read, and closed up, he threw himself, as it were upon me, with a most mo­dest kind of sweetnes, and said, Father I am already reconciled; but I would fain make a general Con­fession of my whole life, to your Re­verence. [Page 58]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 sinns, in respect of that, I now discover in my heart. It being One thing, dear Father, for a man to confesse 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 aThere are litle bookes, of add­resse, whereby men are taught how to confesse their sins exactly. little book, which he had obove in the prison, shewing the way, how to confesse ones ex­actly well (which his good MO­THER had brought him som dayes before) he began his Con­fession; Wherein, my Lord God knowes, 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 expresse 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 [Page 59]concern'd the particular descen­ding even to idle words, and any otherCon­fession is no such cursory or super­ficial thing, as they who know it not, con­ceive, and say. such peccadillo, me­thought I was hearing som well exercis'd Religious man. In the explicating of circumstances, and the unfolding of intricate and intangled 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, pawsing 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 don, he would often say with sighs, O Father, how 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 [Page 60]in certain few, but those all live­ly, and most pious words; and in som particular eases, so dearly tender, that in his countenance, one might see evident signs how his very heart was even rent with­in. So that betweenHe pawsed 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 asking him, if he needed not somwhat to restore, and comfort himself. To which he answer'd, (speaking pri­vately, and more than once to me) This 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 To the ju­st [...]ce 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 ven­tur'd [Page 61]to say thus to him. ‘My dear Signor Troilo, be not so exces­sively curious, and particular, in accusing your self; especially of those your former sins, whichly not now upon your soul.’ O 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 my self, 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 troublesom to you, my dear Father, I well discover; but how can I help it, if I be forc'd 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 confesse my sins. Pardon me, dear [Page 62]Father, and endu e this trouble, for the love of God; for you shall 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 meanes, into the place of rest. And finding that his teares still increa­sed, I confesse my weakness [...] was such, that I could not contain my self from expressing also a tender­nesse by tears.

As soon as he perceiv'd this, he said; Father, your Reverence weeps, yet you weep not for your self, but for me; and yet you will not have me weep for my self. But then, both of us being silent for a time, he after, began again to confesse, 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 [Page 63]hold the Standish, in his own hands, and read those lines, when I had done, and kisse them, and then bath 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 expresse, with what abundance of tears he accompa­nied those accusations of himself. For, beginning even from his very Infancy, Father, (saith he) I A large ex­pression of the unspeak­able grief he had, for his disodedi­ence 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 my self 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 [Page 64]the literature of Humanity, but Philosophy also. And they further shewed how I was to address my self to­wards piety, by their good example, and advice. Nor yet content with this; how sollicitous was she also, to pro­cure by many other means, that I might proceed, both in Learning, and Vertu? For See here the Image of a holy and ten­der hear­ted mo­ther. concerning that of Learning, she gave me store of books, of time, of oportunity, and a thousand tender favours, which were convenient for those years of mine. And for the inducing mee to Vertu, she addressed me to choice of good Conversations, spiritual Dis­courses, excellent Sermons, and Per­sons, who might from time to time give me counsail. Commanding, and causing me to be lead to Con­fession; not only upon all the prin­cipall Feasts of the year, but once also every moneth.

And, till this very time, when I am speaking to your Reverence, you may (if you will take the payns) find, among my papers, most evident testi­monies [Page 65]of what I am now saying; and especially 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 shee did admonish me, were, in a manner, infinite. When I was yet a little one, shee kept mee in awe, by threats, yea and by stroaks 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 passe through my my heart. She likewise procured that 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 Ie­sus, whence they are called O­ [...]atorians. blessed man Philippo, of the Chiesa nuova to assist, & bold me, when I was confirm'd; and that af­ward I should make particurar friend­ship with him.

She kept me far off from looking upon ill examples; and held me neer her self, after the manner, as I may say, of a Religious life; exhorting me often day and night that I would live Nobly, True Christianity, is true Nobilily. and like a Christian. Nor did that blessed mouth of hers, ever [Page 66]cease to say, Troilo, my Son, fear God, and love God. To this end she took upon her, the government of all my Castello in Itali­an, signi­fies both the man­sion house, and the Town, or vilage 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 her self, she would not say, PraySom 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 lesse to me, then my deme­rit▪ And when, dear Father, I think upon the tears she was ever sheading for me both by day, and in those nights, so sadly spent, and on the ag [...] ­nies [Page 67]she sufferd upon my occasion, I find contentment, in that I am to dy, where­by, me thinks, I may, in part, over-shad­dow so many of my lewd behaviours,

Neither The in­vincible love of this Mo­ther, to her Son. yet, after I had se­parated my self from her, did she give over to sollicite me with notes, and letters, and messages, and a thousand other inuentions, that I would be in­duced to retire my self from vitious conversations; and she would p [...]y me, & importune me, and coniure 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 It seems▪ to have been a kind of strife and war; be­tween how kind, a Mother could tel how to be, and how un­kind a Son. when she found me out, she would cast her self, even at my feet, that so I might once be drawn to open mine eys, and consider the precipice I was approaching; and the ruines besides the Shame, that would ine­vitably [Page 68]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.

Somtimes again, she would turn aside, and, casting up her eyes to God, beseech him, either to convert me, or else Her prayer was heard in a better though in another manner then 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 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, somtimes with Religious men, [Page 69]and somtimes with pious Books. So long, as that now at last, I am, by the favor of God, returnd a little into my self. 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 my self, to the service of God.

Nor could ever any Son desire a­ny favor, or contentment of a Mo­ther, which mine did not, of her self, 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 [Page 70] 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 showre of tears from his eyes; in such sort,An admira­ble and almost miracu­lous Con­trition. as that he bath­ed a good part of one of my arms; and my sleeve was as wet through, as if it had rained from above. Which accident I observing, after some half quarter of an hour, and doubting, lest his heart might so discharge it self by his eyes, ra­ther for the apprehension he might have of death, then 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 answer'd; 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 [Page 59]committed against Almighty God. And 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 dy his friend.

‘Well then, said I, proceed in your Confession, that so you may dy 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 wondred so much the more; for as much as I my self had forgotten it, though I also had one of those little Books in my hand, which instruct how a Confession may be well made. [Page 60]But he, going on, layd before me, (as if it had been in one single prospect) the whole course of his life, with so great clarity, and brevity, that I found my self ob­liged to ask him, if during many daies before, he had not applyed 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 This was a ve­ry extra­ordinary, superna­tural fa­vour of Almighty God. as in a glasse; 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 return'd to repeat some things which he had al­ready [Page 61]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 my self. And espe­cially 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, passe 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 dyed.

‘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 [Page 62]perhaps you might have don it by errour.’ The errour (says he) was m [...]ne, and a grievous error it was to [...]ffend those so many waies, who did ever stand in my d [...]fence. But however that be, in this respect as in some others, I shall dy content­ed, in that I can never satisfie my self, with confessing my faults to you, dear Father; Which now, by the goodnesse of God, are as well known by me, as heretofore they were little esteem'd; and are now as bitterly lamented, as heretofore they gave me gust, though it were a false one. I 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 cenfesse them; a a thousand eyes, that so, I might bitterly bewail them; and a thou­sand hearts, that so, eternally I migh 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 good­nesse of God) know what a sinner I am. As a sinner, I lament my self, and as a sinner I will dy, 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, notI cannot blame him. being able to contain my self from weeping, was observ'd by him, who said thus. Most happy Funerals are therefore these of mine, which are solemnized 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 tendernesse, 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 This authority was given to his true Church by Iesus Christ, and in his name, & by his power, 'tis exer­cised. Authority, which God has given you, to loose, and bind men on earth, you loose me, from so many chains of sin, which [Page 64]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 sinns, 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 aThis is a ful remis­sion of all Canoni­cal Pe­nances requir'd by the ancient discipline of the Church. Plenary Iubiley, according to the most ample priviledge,By the Popes. granted to those of the Congrega­tion of theIt is called a congre­gation of M sericor­dia, be­cause it is so great a wo k of charity and mer­cy where­in they imploy them­selves. Misericordia. Being absolv'd, and having don his Pe­nance, with incredible affection of mind, he sate down again by my direction; and then, the rest cam [...], and encircled him after the accustomed manner.

I then spake 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 Crosse, give remedy, in his per­son, this night to three things, among many others. HeAn applicati­on f [...]ll of life and comfort. dyed 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 dyed, and he dyed of a violent death; that to your Lordship it might not seem insupportable, to dy 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 dyed of the most reproachful death, which in those times was inflicted; that it might not seem strange to your Lordship, to dy by the hand of [Page 69] 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 dishonorable 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 dy in publique, upon the Bridg, as the ordinary Gu­stom bears, butIt is there ac­counted of less dis­honor, to be put privatly to death. They who dy privat­ly, dy within the Castle, they who publick­ly, at the foot of the Bridg. privatly 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 How wise, the grace of God, is able to make a very yong man, up­on a s [...]d­dain! I, O Father, for as [Page 67]much as coneerns the first, dy 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 vertue of necessity; and be­ing to dy per force, and according to reason, I will dy 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 dyed in publique, would have given me I know not what increase of con­solation and gust. For so I might have hoped by Because publick sinns re­quire publick satisfacti­on. publique Pe­nance, to have made a better amends, for my publique crimes. And God knows, I take no contentment, to re­ceive the favor of dying privatly. But yet however, if the determina­tion which is made, be such, I resist it not. Our Lord will accept the [Page 68]promptitude of my will.

Hereupon, the Proveditore took up the speech, and said: ‘Let your Lordship accommodate it self to the will and providence of God, who has not only one way of a­riving 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 thatMany of Gods judg­ments are secret but they are all just. his Judgments are hidden from us, but it suf­fices that they are just. Who can tell, if your Lordship should have dy'd 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 Hunts-man 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 [Page 69]bowe, nor bruized by nets, or snares; He arivs this beast, somtimes one way, somtimes another, but never lets slip the dogs, nor shoots the arrow, nor spreads the net, or Toyl upon the ground or sets the snare; but, at the most, with some outcries, or els by throwing som stones, he rowseth him, and addresseth him towards the place designed; and so long he drives the beast by several waies, that, at last, he brings him thither, where he would have him. The Huntes-man knowes this well, and did long expect him there, and he takes him, and enjoys him, all sound and safe.

I am 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 Toyles, or snares; when thou deliveredst me out of so many dan­gers of death, in which, though very young, I have found my self, and [Page 70]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 solicite me. And now I repent me, that I was so deaf to them. But what mervail, if I were deaf, who after a sort was By sinne. dead? And thus has thy goodnes conducted me to this strait pass, without my knowing it; that so I may be forced to leap into thy lap. For whither am I able to turn my self 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 withall.

One of the Confortatori then ‘replied: It is enough, Signor 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 dy, neverthe­lesse [Page 83]it is affirm'd, 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 shewing, by what means, that which was ne­cessary, 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 imbra­ced. Then teach me (said the Baron) how I may make this enforced death truly voluntary. Whereupon cer­tain devout, and apt waies how to do it, being declared, by the Governour of the Congregation of the Confortatori, and imbraced by ‘the Baron, I said; Perhaps Signor Troilo, we weary you too much;’ How can you weary me? said he, These discourses make the night short to me, and my disastre, fortunate. And here, all were silent a while; when he rising up (for he was sitting) said, That he would speak [Page 84]with the father. And drawing neer me, theWhom 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 repeting 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 satisfie my self, with confessing the offences I have com­mitted against God? And besides, d [...]es not your Reverence remember, that we must speak together of The Father, it seems had made him som such pro­mise be­fore. Penance? I answered, Let that Penance be, to dy, and to dy 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 grievs me, [Page 85](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 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 confesse 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 wel; and that he should stil be doing so. ‘And when (sayd 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 confesse, it is all too little. But I doubt Signor Troilo, whether then you wil be able to remember this; for at that time perhaps you wil be, as it were, not your self. It is no trifle to [Page 86]look death in the face, take my word for that.’ The magnani­mous Lord made this answer. I wil not presume so much upon my self, but He can ne­ver faile who putteth all con­fidence in God, and none in him­self. hope wel, and confide greatly in God, that he wil not let it slip out of my memory. And if, by any accident, you should perceiv I were unworthy so great a grace, doe me the favor 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 som what els towards this end of mine, and that quickly, for the time has wings. I bad 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 shal be sit for you to say, even til your last breath.’

AndHe exhorts him to a great de­votion to his good Angel. very now, you shall ‘begin to make a strait friendship with your Good Angel. And first ask pardon of him with your hart, for the little gratitude you have expressed, for the [Page 87]Custody he has afforded you; which has bin so incessant, so patient, so diligent, and so full of love.’ Vpon 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 sate down again. So that I proceeded, and said: Consider then with your ‘self that yourS Hier­om says expresly, That e­very soul has an Angelus Custos assingd 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 [Page 88]Contrition [...] Thirdly, he light­ens this darknes, this anguish, and this Death. Fourthly, with great sollicitude, he carries for­ward, and backward, those mess­ages, which passe 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 superiourWe 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 sollicites 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; Angele Dei, OHe ponders the pray­er which Catholi­kes say dayly, to their good An­gel: Ange­le Dei, qui custos es mei, me ti­bi com­missum, pi [...]tate su­perna, h [...] ­die illumi­na, custodi, rege, gu­b [...] na. thou Angel of God, so i [...] [Page 89]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 goodnes of God, for I find no desert, but cordi­ally confesse 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 [Page 90]it then, three times; and after­wards, he did it again so often, the same night, as that all the times a­rived, 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 yourTo 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 ex­ [...]ellent manner. Intercessor; and then S. John the Baptist, and S. Paul, who were both condemned to the losse of their heads, as your Lordship is.’ It is true (said he) they were condemned as I am; but with this difference; they sufferd innocent, I for my faults; there­fore I accuse my self, 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 wonted company [Page 91]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, dele iniquitatem meam
Erravi sicut ovis quae perjit, quaere servum tuum Domine.
Deus propitius esto mihi pecca­tori.
Deus in audiutorium meum in­tende.

And a hundred other, such as these; which now, and then, were declared by some one ofThe 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 hoste protege & 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, ostende, 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 Jesu pie,
Quod sim causa tuae viae,
Ne me perdas illa die, &c.

In this exercise, those brothers, [Page 93]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 yong 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 yong 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 your self too much. Nothing lesse, (said he) but to me it will be of extream contentment. And [Page 94]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, thereIt 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 divel, and from the torments of hell. ButNothing but only his sins could move him to tears. he (O admirable repose of mind) did not shed one tear. Nay my self, being in tears, who held the candle by him (and not being a­ble to represse 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 [Page 95]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 give­ing me the Book, I said those Prayers over him, which are wont to be said, over such as are in their last agony; Commendo 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, &c. And that other which follows, Deus mise­ricors, Deus clemens, &c. 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 return'd 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 alwaies kept him alive, and quick, and even all kindled in devotion; till such time, as the [Page 96]hour of celebrating Masse ap­proached.

Then the Noble Man said thus: If these This ri­gor is us'd in those parts, for the great insolen­cies which have somtimes bin acted in the like extremi­ties, by Delin­quents. Manicles 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 tyed with­out, who is bound Because his heart was more chain'd, by the love of God, then his hands could be by a load of Iron within. Upon which words, all of us be­ing fullThey had great rea­son of tendernesse; and in particular one of those Confor­tatori (who shewed 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 Manicles off; which yet, the Baron would needsAn hum­ble, natu­ral, and most Noble Soul. kisse, 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 confesse again; and when he had blessed himself, with the sign of the Cr [...]sse; Fa­ther [Page 97] 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 answer'd 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 notifie 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 with­all, 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, [Page 98]after my death. And when you shall see her first, I de­sire you will ask forgivnesse 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 Ladiship, which, being alive, he neither deserv'd, nor had time to ask. He further recommends the care of his Soul to your Ladiship. He praies, he beseeches, he conjures your Ladi­ship, 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 lesse procure toIf she thought the ad­verse par­ [...]ies, whom he had wronged, had prose­cuted him with too much ea­gerness. revenge your self, for any injury; but that you will remit the whole, and your self withal, to the Eternal Providence of God. Put her in mind, that it is the part [Page 99]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 remembred 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 This was a Mother, not only of her sons 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 dy her son, and a son, who is most pro­foundly penitent, for all the ill words and deeds I have ever uttered, and perform'd against her; and that, in the other world, I will by Gods 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 [Page 100]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 dy 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 her self to the will of God, as, by his mercy I have done.

To my Lady, my Grand-Mother, 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 [Page 101]her; beseeching her, in my name, that as long as she lives, she will cause a Masse every week to be cele­brated for my Soul. And in like manner I humbly ask pardon of my Lord Marquesse, my Ʋncle, from the most inward parts of my Soul, as I also doe 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 This was a per­son of great au­thority, who took his ex­amination Monsignor the Govern­our of Rome, who, about some four times, has examined me, with so much respect and curtesi [...]. Give him assurance from me, that though [Page 102]my death grieve me, yet I accept it willingly; And beseech him, that when time shall serve, he will also With how great pie­ty, he speaks of the Pope, as he was his su­pre [...] Pastour, and with obser­vance, as his Prince. assure our Lord, Pope Cle­ment, his Holinesse, that I dy 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 A noble circum­stance of civility & courtesie. 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 Apostolique. And let him be further told, that by placing my self, as I do at your feet, I make accompt 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, [Page 103]to dy, it also grieves me, that even by my death, I am not able to give compleat satiisfaction to his Holy­ness; For What a noble ci­vil Soul was this. as much as he, be­ing my Father, and Pastour, 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 then 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 your self? At least, let not others see you. I re­ply'd: ‘Do you beleeve, my Son, that I have no sence 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 extream sweetness, and prudence. This being then said by him with a most admirably [Page 104]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 my self do now, with the most internal part of my heart; and of your self, 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 Masse should be celebrated; and so the Priest, as soon as he was ve­sted, began. The devout yong Lord, and I kneeling together a­gainst a form, he said thus to me. The Priest is beginning Masse; 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 [Page 105]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 He had the gift of tears in a strange measure. me leave to weep, whilest I say the Confiteor, since that Gentleman weeps so bitterly, to whose office it belongs not greatly, that he should ‘weep. I answer'd, 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 don, & allTill af­ter the Gospel. the while the Priest was read­ing with a loud voice, he did not move at al, but wa [...] most fixedly at­tentive, & as it were rapt towards theThe 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 [Page 106]made. And shortly after, (turning towards my ear) he accused himself of divers little things, which then suddenly surpriz'd his mind. And the Priest being com toAbout the mid­dle of Masse. Sursum corda; Father (said he) do you think indeed, that by such a death as this, and so well deserved, I may yet go ‘strait to heaven? And why (said I) may not your Lordship under­goe this death with so great and so wel condition'd 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 yong Noble Man spake these ve­ry, very words. O bone Jesu, sis mihi, in hac hora, Jesus. O dear [Page 107]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, toThe [...] of [...] Domine non sum dignus, &c. 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 aThis was per­haps the knocking of his breast, or some such other thing, which might be done at the instant Penance, whilest 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 remain'd, 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 courtesie; and, I beseech you, [Page 108]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 intreated to sit down, the wonted circle was made about him. Where every one endeavour'd 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 withall, such a pregnant sign of his Predestination; wherein the Noble Youth seem'd 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, Signor Troilo, will the grace, which God hath [Page 109]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 hapned to Christ our Lord himself, toThe immense love which our Lord Jesus bare to man, made all he suffered seem little to him. whom his Passion, seem'd 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 ful; (Calicem quem dedit mihi Pater, non vis ut bibam illum?) Again, after that huge heap of bitterness, and torments which he had en­dur'd, it seem'd nothing to him. For being ask'd by those disci­ples who were going to Emaus. if he knew of that vast cruelty, which had then lately bin [Page 110]executed at Hierusalem, upon the person of the greatest Saint of God, he answer'd, by asking, Quae? for in fine he esteem'd it all as nothing. Therefore, speak­ing of his Passion, he used the word Baptism, saying, Baptismo habeo baptizari, & quomodo co­arctor, &c. And you know that bathes serve for delicacy. What say you then Signor 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 prize it. And 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 labour'd for it; and I know not what of that kind. But I had not then, that knowledge of my self, which now, by the favor of God, methinks I have, in such sort, as now, I can [Page 111]affirm to you, in the word of Truth, that I 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 bin so well prepared for death.’ Whereupon, one of the Con­fortatori proceeded thus, If your ‘Lordship had dyed 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 your self. And if you had dyed, by a­ny other accident, perhaps you would not have had time, to bring forth, so much as the name of Jesus. Whereas now, itSuppo­sing first, the g [...]ce of God, as is declared afterward. is in a manner, in your own power, to dy as well as you will your self, with what dete­station of your sins you will; with what love of Christ you will; and, in a word, in that best [Page 112]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 my self, no trouble nor ten­tation; and me No­thing but the very hand of God, was able so to have con­ducted him, through these stony waye [...]. And it seems, God com­mun [...]ca [...]ed 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 dy, 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 your self 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 your self of somewhat, which you might have; and which, at that time, might be agreeable to you. [Page 113]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 dy, it was the custom to give wine, with an infusion of myrrhe; 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 withWith Gall. another most bitter ingredient; that so he migh [...] 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 spake [Page 114]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 hide it self 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 en [...]mor'd Jesus obser­ving, complain'd 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 LordThis Govern­ment, is the place of greatest confidence the Pope bestows. G [...]ver­nour of the Castle, which, one of the Gentlemen there present, [Page 115]po [...]ring 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 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 my self of it. Fa­ther, is it not so? Nevertheless being intreated 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 ask'd this most illustrious Lord, to which heNote 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 imagin'd. He was asked first (for, of many, [Page 116]I will mention only a few, & this first question he was asked often) Signor Troilo, will your Lordship have any thing? He still answer'd, that he desired nothing, saving that once he held his deace, but made a sign up to heaven. Besides, he was often asked, Signor 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 dy 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 [Page]think your death unjust?’ I do not, (said he) esteem it only to be just; but most just; and as for the Divel, 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 rejoyce that I am paying the offences, I have committed against her, with my bloud. And I hope, the readiness wherewith I imbrace this Penance, for my wicked car­riage t [...]wards 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 [Page 118]a cause of Sorrow and trouble to them; of my friends as having given them ill example; of my selfe, I take no care; for behold who 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 This I find to be a strange answer, in the su­perlative de [...]ee of strangenes. long (say he) nor short. And another replying to him thus; Is it possible, that you are not griev'd, you must die; I do not, says he, deny, but I am grievd at it, but yet it neither troubles me, nor so much, as alters me, more then you see. It being wished, that he should suffer his chair to be drawn a litle forward, that so he might sit at greater ease; To what end (said he) should I give my body ease, I am wel 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 [Page 119]commodious posture; he said, (drawing near my ear,) Father, it is a piece of ill manners, to sit with a mans 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 bin most particuler [...]y af­fected: He answer'd; Above all the Saints in Heaven, to that of our He was ever much devo [...]ed 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 resolv'd ne­ver to intermit, unlesse 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 [Page 120]Fathers, with whom I had much conversed, (insinuating ther­by, 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 Signor 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, interch [...]n­geably 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 Jesu pie &c. And thenThese 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 &c. And then again Maria mater gratiae, [Page 121]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 The enatrance whereby we begin to make our Con­fession. Deo Omnipotenti & tibi Pater. I accuse my self of this and this, and that; IdeoThis we use to say when we have ended it. precor, &c.

And then, instantly he added this: Father I would desire 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 Jesu, sis mihi Iesus; O good Lord Jesus, be thou a Jesus to me; & you on the other, Ego te absolvo, &c. I absolve thee, &c. 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 [Page 122]the cutting off your head, I should becomBy 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 confes 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 lowd voice, Ego te ab­solvo. &c. 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 [Page 123]upon my bosom, he said; Ah Fa­ther, even by all the love you bear this miserable sinfull Soul, do me this favor; 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 Gods 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 favor? Well, be of courage (said I, to quiet him) I promise you that I will do it. Then give me (answer'd he) that The hands of Catholick 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, then I would let it pass; and that if h [...] remembred it, and did franckly cal for it, I would perform it. But it seemd (as I said) to me, that a man co [...]ld hardly be of so undanted a mind, as that, in so hard a passage, his memory [Page 124]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; IHis 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 in­treated him by a sign to sit down. Then he said Father, take you care of my journy 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 your self prepared, and sit down.

As soon as he was set, all the strings of our very hearts seemd to be moved at once, to pray him that he would be mindfull of us in hea­ven. AndIt is a sign they saw strange tokens of Gods favor 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 satisfie our selves 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 remain'd with a most Angelical Counte­nance and with a heart which seem'd not so much as to know what belong'd to fear.

ThisA de­sc [...]iption of S [...]gnor Troilo's person and fashion. Sig. Troilo was tall of sta­tur [...], 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, & ful, and quick his nose sweetly rai­sed: his mouth of a just proporti­on, and rather, smiling, then [Page 126]otherwise; his forehead compe­tently spatious and he had not so much as one single hair upon his cheeks. Of a sweet voice, of rea­dy answers; and so compleat 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 hapned 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 suffer'd 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 my self, but methought it had somewhat of the Clown.

In conclusion, he caused all those souldiers, who had kept guard over him, to pass before him one by one; and soIt i [...] a t [...]ue sign, and a cer­tain fruit of true penance, to submit a mans self mightily for Gods 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 theIn 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 whereever 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 sate down, and was silent. And whilest he held his [Page 128]peace, we spake among our selves with astonishment at many things we had observed in him, and they were these: He did never sweat, nor ever complain'd of any thing. He never placed himself with any shew of weariness upon his chair; nor ever shew'd 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 bin so many and very many times upon his knees. He ever answer'd readily, and with a lively voice. His memory never failed, or so much as wave­red. He was handsomly and mo­destly apparell'd. HeA strange image of perfection was this young No­ble man. spake not so much as an inconsiderate word. He never expressed a desire of any thing. He had at certain times, and upon certain occasi­ons [Page 129]a discharged and smiling countenance. He did compleatly give every man those titles of re­spect which were his due; with­out failing so much as once; as to one, of R [...]verence, 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 spake 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 [Page 130]man had thus held his peace, and we had been discoursing a­mong our selves of the things a­foresaid, he, calling me towards him, who yet was standing not far off, spake 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 beganA hap­py soul to be so spee­dily, and so intirely purified. to accuse himself of things so extreamly small; as gave occasion and matter to this Soul of mine, even till this day wherein I write, 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 [Page 131]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 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 perform'd 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 hapned; 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 meBy his holy pray­ers in hea­ven as­sistance in the sight of our Lord; he remain'd with eyes as full of se­renity, and void of tears, as if in all his life he had never wept.

But then having rais'd himself, it was thought fit by all the Com­pany, [Page 132]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 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 favor. The good God reward you for it. And here all of us recommending our selves again to his prayers, we also again began the Psalms.

At this time the Executioner came in, and no man had the heart to tell my Lord of it; but he, perceiving there was a preass of people, gently turn'd his face about, and as soon as he had set eye upon him, he was not trou­bled with it at all; butUn­dauored holy cou­rage. arm'd himself only with the sign of the Holy Cross; and, making a coun­tenance [Page 133]to me, who stood close by him, he rose and said: Well, the hour is come; Gentlemen, let us go, and that cheerfully. And, they all answering thus; ‘Yea let it be done cheerfully, Signor Troilo, cheerfully for the love of Jesus;’ He turn'd towards the Executioner, who kneeling down at his feet to ask his pardon; Do y [...]ur office (said he) in the name of God, for so He will have it. Your Lordship (said he) is to unbutton the Coller 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 Execution [...]r, 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 [Page 134]trouble me; and if you have a mind to it, I will strip my self from head to foot for the love of God. Already therefore he was begin­ning to unty himself; but it suf­ficed that he was unbutton'd to the shoulders. Then one of the Confortatori putting him in mind of Non crubescam, &c. 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 hoth my arms, and my hands too, if your will be such. For 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 kneel'd 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; [Page 135]and, being come as far as the outward room, he paused there with an incredible decency and grace; And said to some of the by-standers, Might I not thank my Lord, the Governour of the Castle before I dy? But they presenting I know not what ex­cuse of his not being risen, he ac­cepted thereof, and commanded a Gentleman who served the Go­vernour to thank him in his name. And, having demanded pardon of many of the Assistants, and ex­horting them, in some very few words, to vertue, by the example, which there they had before their eies 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 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 pantofl [...] and going down such a long pair [Page 136]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 shoos, failing to tread right many times, was wil­led by him to take care of my self.

When he was arriv'd 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 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, [Page 137]non confundar in aeternum; which being repeated by him, he spake thus to them; Take 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 return'd 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 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 Governour of the Ca­stle, [Page 138]since I cannot see my Lord the Governour. 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 courtesie, Father, take off my hat: Which the good Gen­tleman observing,A kind contention who should most ex­ceed in courtesie. did with a most bitter and loud cry of tears even spread himself all upon the ground; and all the by-standers upon that occasion did cast them­selves [Page 139]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 your self, 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, spake 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 [Page 140]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 Si­gnor Troilo, couragiously Signor 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 noble, and holy valiant heart. Know (a) Gentlemen, that I dy 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 beck­ning me first towards him with his countenance; Father (said he) on this hand I place my 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 [Page 141]must remember to perform the pro­mise you made me. I will say, O bone Jesu 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, &c. 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 amaz'd within my self, 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, ex­presly spake these very words: Dear Father, draw near me. Let is suffice, and I take you to witness, That 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 my self 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 [Page 142]lives. I accuse my self 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 my self 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 deserv'd by me; and of you I desire Absolu­tion.

So did this Noble heart, which neither was, nor was to be con­quer'd or danted, lay down that head upon the block. And saying then, Bring 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 Jesu, 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 my self [Page 143]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 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 then was his custom, say O Jesu, sis mihi Jesus; O Jesus, be thou a Jesus to me. And at the instant, his head flew off at once, from his body, my self, 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 intoHis 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 [Page 144]this life, before this Son of his was born; that being the eighteenth of April, Anno Do­mini 1574. this the eighteenth of the same moneth. 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 out-laws and Re­bels, condemned and proscribed by Pro­clamation (in that language termed Ban­do) like our Moss-troopers, or the Tur­ries of Ireland. p. 8.
  • Castle Sant 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.
  • [Page]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 compar'd 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 behav'd himself when he receiv'd 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 Gods 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.
  • [Page]It must have seven witnesses in Italy to make it valid. p 55.
  • How he dispos'd his body. p. 55.
  • His admirable Contriti [...]n. 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 dy. p. 67.
  • Punishment impos'd 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 recommendatio [...] [...] his Mother. p 97 98.
  • To his Grandmother. p. [...]00.
  • [Page]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 Souldiers. 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 chearfulness at the last moment. p. 135, 140.
  • His advice to the people. 137.139.
  • The L. Governour wept passionately. p 138.
  • S. Troilo's last jaculatory, Prayers. 139 142
  • His last words at the block. p. 144.
  • His Ghostly Fathers 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 ones sins. p. 65. l. 18 r particul­ar. p. 67, l 2.3. r whereby, p. 59. l. 1. r comitted. 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 mergin r entrance.

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