PADRE PAOLO was borne at Ʋe­nice, in the yeare 1552. upon the fourteenth of August, being knowne by the name of Pietro, but, being of a very thinne body, was by a nickname of the Citty called Piernio, or little Peter. His father was Francesco di Pietro Sarpi originally by his ancestors of Saint Vido, and of the province of Fruili. In Venice he exercised Merchandice, though with no great prosperitie. He traffiqued al­so into Soria, but with no better fortune; He was a fierce man, addicted more to warre then Mer­chandise; wherein he had successes that brought him to a low condition: His mother was a Veneti­an, of an honest City-family, called Isabella Morelli, who died in the contagion of the yeare 1576. I re­member I have heard it of her from some of the old [Page 2]fathers of Monastry, that de servi; and from an old cosen of hers in the fourth degree—yet living, who told it in merryment that when the marriage was made betwixt Francesco and her: it seemed by the diversitie of their conditions, a monstrous thing to those that understand not disparity in matrimo­ny to be a great mischiefe in the policy even of hu­manity it selfe, and consequently remedies, except it be by a medicine worse then the disease, as we see among the Barbarians of Canada, and new France, and heretofore anciently in S. Parta. Francis was a man of a low stature; of a broune colour, and of a terrible aspect. Isabella was of great stature, of faire complexion, and of a countenance as humble, and gentle as t'was possible. He was addicted to warre, and defiances, she to fasting, and devotion. In which kinde of life (after she was set free by the death of her husband) she proceeded so far, that re­ceiving a religious habit, she got a fame of singular sanctity: of spirit, and of prophecy. From whom as he tooke his complexion and favour (especially in his eyes and face wherein he did marvellously re­semble her) so it seemes also he had his principles of religion, and singular piety from her.

The father died leaving her a widdow with her sonne Peter, and a daughter that was very young, which for charity and honesty was taken into edu­cation by a brother of the mothers, being the chiefe titular Priest of the Collegiate convent of St. Her­magora, upon which occasion the mother begun to have almost a perpetuall conversation among those immur'd hermites of Saint Hermogora; where in her life and piety she made afterwards great progressi­ons.

[Page 3] This priest and brother Ambrosio Morelli was a man of grave and severe behaviour, and very lear­ned in all kinde of humane literature, whereof he kept a particular schoole to teach divers noble mens children both Grammer & Rhetorique. By the mo­ther and uncle were fomented in Peter those seedes of Piety, which after by divine assistance grew up in processe of age, like that graine of mustard seede, to which our Saviour compared the kingdome of heaven, which is indeed the very piety towards God. But from his uncle he received his first rudi­ments, together with divers gentlemen, of whom some are improved to an excellency of learning; and become grave Senators; (as signor Andre a Mo­resini, that writer of the Venetian history worthy of eternall memory.) Others are yet living, & give wit­nesse of the felicity of the wit and abilities of father Paul, of whom wee now write, who by the dili­gence of a master being his uncle, became in short time so great a proficient, that he was capa­ble of the more solid arts; and greater sciences of Logique and philosophy. And the priest Ambrosio having discovered in his nephew a conjuncture, which is seldome seen of a great memory, with a profound judgment, thought fit to cherish the one and the other: because exercise either improves, or disposes for actions, and discovers, or otherwise takes away those impediments which hinder the ex­pression of activity. And if mans wit seemed to that old Philosopher to be Campi Animati, spirited fieldes fit for divers seeds, and of unequall secundi­ty, or barrennesse. The Priest was no lesse carefull to apply his wit to a right cultivation. Wherefore [Page 4]he daily exercised his judgement by keeping him to continuall composings, holding him to more strictnesse then was convenient for his childhood; specially being of so weake a complexion; And ex­ercised his memory not only by forcing him to re­peate many things by heart, but some particulars upon the first hearing. The fathers of the convent observing in him a rare inclination to learning, reported strange things of his memory. But he told them seriously, that in that way of exercise, his uncle had never made him exceede the repetition of a matter of thirty verses together out of Virgil, or some author, after a running kinde of reading once over. His carriage of himselfe even at that age, gave a true presage of his future deportment, which wee will rather call naturall inclinations, the better sort whereof he hath since raised to a great perfection, having corrected the rest which were more imper­fect by vertue, being in himselfe a meere retired­nesse, and of a semblant or meane, alwaies thought­full, and rather melancholique then serious, of a continued silence even with those of his owne age: alwaies in quiet without, being addicted to any of those excercises, wherewith children are by nature most pleased, (though but in a gentle motion, and only for preservation of health.) A notable thing, and never observed in any other. And since then he hath kept himselfe so in the whole course of his life, being used to say upon occasion, that he could ne­ver understand the delight of a gamester except it were out of affection to Avarice. He knew not the pleasures of the palate, he never long'd for any meate, but nourished himselfe with so little foode, [Page 5]that it was a wonder how hee could live; which course he hath constantly observed all his life long, and was never used to drinke wine till he was above thirty yeares of age.

There dwelt at that time in the Convent of the order of Servi one Father Iohn Maria Cappella of Cre­mona, Doctor and Theologist, esteemed one of the most consummate & perfect men of his time in Re­ligion, and a particular follower of Scotus, in whose doctrine hee had the fame to have had but few e­qualls. The neerenesse of their habitations bred an acquaintance betwixt Ambrosio and this Father, who upon this occasion finding the pregnant witt of Pe­ter, began to reade Logique to him. And because as some soiles are so fruitfull, that upon every little til­lage, they exceede not onely the hopes, but also the wishes of the labourer; so it happened in a very short space that he made the like progression, passing on to the studies of Philosophy and Theologie, running before all expectation, and the Master confest him­selfe that hee could teach him no longer, because it happened many times that the Scholler apprehen­ding a different sence from his Master, was able to maintaine it with so much subtilty of reason, that he made him change his opinion. Whereof, among the notes that are come to my hands, there are many particulars which I spare to relate. He began like­wise in his childhood to learne the Mathematiques according to the manner of the wise men of old times, tongues, with the Greeke and Hebrew by the opportunity of eminent Masters that lived at that time in Venice.

But by continuall conversation and study amongst [Page 6]them he became desirous to receive the habit of that order of the Servi, either because it seemed to him c. life of more conformity to his inclination which was retir'd and contemplative, or otherwise being allured thereto by his Master.

It is the property of mans minde in all things that are come to effect, to seek no further than to the next causes, and particularly in those wherein it is neere­liest concerned, & so setling ajudgement upon those alone without regard to an investigable number of other foregoing causes in a longer tract; resolves thereupon to ground the cause of his fortune.

But the Divine providence which orders all things by a connexion of causes and effects, guides us to higher considerations. The effects following leave us no place to doubt that it was a Divine compulsi­on, and a Divine vocation of Peter to render him­selfe religious, because his Mother, and his Vncle Ambrosio the Priest having opposed themselves a­gainst him out of a desire to make him a Priest of their Church, having already put him into the ha­bit, yet he could not be removed from his first reso­lution, neither by exhortation nor by constraint, whereof he suffered very much, and at last in the yeare 1566. the 24. of November he was received in­to the habit of the Religion of Servi: And to what height of learning he was growne in his youth may be argued from hence. That (the day following) there being held an annuall and solemne disputati­on in the Church of the Father Minors of St. Francis, called Sancta Maria de' frati, he was sent to dispute against the Theses that were then given in, where he put the company into admiration of his great and [Page 7]solid spirit, and at the beginning of the disputations gave them a prettie occasion to be merry, having forgot himselfe that he had changed his habit the day before, he did in those actions of curtesie that are common among disputants (thinking to put off his hat) pull off his hood, and held it hanging in his hand; he continued his Novitiat in that Con­vent and his studies under the same Master. And the Father Benedetto Ferro yet living and of his owne age, who lived with him in his Novitiat relates of him, That in his childhood he was of great retired­nesse, silence and quietnesse, and that hee was wont to withdraw himselfe from every childish sport. And they spoke it of him as a common by word. All we are for trifles and pamphlets, but Fryer Paul is for Bookes: And being now entred into the 17. yeere of his age, and setled in a state of profession, but yet silently according to those times wherein the decree of the Councell of Trent to that purpose was not yet put in execution (for all the regular orders con­tinued with professions as yet unexprest) the Coun­cell then intending to provide in that case, which was shortly made expresse in Cremona in the hand of the Generall Master Stephano Bonutio, who was after master Cardinall alone in the yeere 1572. about the tenth of May, he being then 20. yeares of age when the congregation of the order of the Servi Church comprehended about 70. Monasteries great and lit­tle, and was after raised and reduced into two pro­vinces, the one in Venice, the other in Mantova by Pius V. and was governed by Vicars Generall) held a Chapter or generall congregation in the City of Mantova. And it is the manner of such meetings of [Page 8]Religious men to put themselves upon severall ver­tuous exercises of preaching and disputations, whe­ther for the most part resort men of greatest emi­nency to honour the meetings, and to give a testi­mony that they have not spent their time in idlenes, but in holy and laudable operations.

Fryer Paul, this young man, who (in his child­hood) did so farre exceede others of riper yeares in sciences, was commanded to be one of those (who in that honorable concourse) was to give a tast of his vertue by answering and defending 118. of the most difficult propositions that were in sacred Theolo­gie or naturall Philosophy (which said charge with how much felicity, with what acclamation and wonder was by him maintained before that venera­ble assistance may be acknowledged by the successe thereof. But there lived at that time Il serenissimo Duke William of Mantova, of whose glorious memo­ry we finde so much witten in History. This Prince was a man of excellent parts, and so profoundly learned in the Sciences, that it was not easily discer­ned whether his prudence in government or his eru­dition in al the Sciences & arts were the greater, even as low as Musicke. He had not his wit so confined, that while it was applied to learning, it abated any thing of what belonged to the wisedome of gover­ning his people. There was a confluence to his Court (as of a most vertuous Prince and liberall Moecenas) from all parts of such as in the Sciences and Arts were of any note or excellency, and they were all received, favoured, and largely entertained; The Bishop of Bold [...]ino Pastor of that Church moved by the example of so vertuous a Prince, endeavoured [Page 9]to doe the like. His function was meerly ecclesi­astick, which he attended with all possible piety, charity and diligence, and among other things was carefull to furnish his Cathedrall with a sufficient lecturer.

It was worth observing, that at the same time, the Duke taking notice of the great learning of Fry­er Paulo, made it his request to the Superiors, to re­ceive him into the family of the Monastery of Saint Barnaby of Mantova, honoring him with the title of his Chaplaine; And also the Bishop made him rea­der in the Cathedrall of positive divinity, of cases of conscience, and of the sacred Canons. I shall not neede to tell you with what wonder of all his audi­ence he discharged the place, for it may be easily believed. True it is, that for divers yeares, and even at this day, amongst the old fathers; there continues a fame at Mantova, and it became a common saying, Non veneramai in un Fra. Paolo. There will never come more among us another frier Paul. At this time in Mantova he learned the Hebrew tongue to a greater perfection then he had done at Venice. But the occasion of his conversation in Court: and of serving that Prince, made him see a kinde of necessi­tie of understanding the histories of the times, wherein he was in a short time so great a proficient, that without injury either to times or persons I may lawfully say he was without paralell. In the study whereof he continued a course, which he likewise used in all his other studies; which was, that when he encountred with any history or passage of learning, or any probleme or Theo­reme. He would never give himselfe any intervalls [Page 10]but presently either rising from the board, or from his bed at midnight, or whensoever applying him­selfe wholly and indefatigably to the subject, would never take himselfe of till he had seene what­soever could be seene, which was by confronting of authors, of places, of times, and of opinions, and by a kinde of pertinacity. He would leave himselfe no occasion to returne againe to that subject, but would be resolved once for all, how farre the know­ledge of it could be carried. And his very inti­mate friends would say of him, that in his riper age sitting downe sometime upon a Mathematicall pro­bleme, or any other speculation, he would continue there in making figures or numbers a whole day, and a whole night together, without leaving it un­til he could say O, l'zó pur vinta opui non ci voglio pen­sare. I have either overcome it, or else I'le thinke no more on't.

Divers accidents befell him during his abode in Mantua, where among other conversations which he had in that City, he tooke the greatest pleasure in discoursing with Camillo Olivo who had beene se­cretary to Hercules, Cardinall of Mantua (that had beene legate in the Councell of Trent) and com­mended him for a personage of great piety and learning. But neverthelesse a man that could not fly from his ill fortune, because the Cardinall ha­ving incurred the indignation of Pius quartus (for some things which concerned the councell) those crimes from which greatenesse had priviledged the master, came to be charged upon the servant; who by the Inquisitours was much troubled, and kept long in prison, after the death of the Cardinall his [Page 11]Lord, from whence although he had a free delive­rance, because the Pope himselfe lived not long af­ter, yet he could never make his reentry into the fa­vour of the Court of Rome, and therefore lived a pri­vate life in Mantua. The chiefe pleasure that Fryer Paul tooke in concoursing with him was: because he found him a man of singular moderation, lear­ned, and by being with the Cardinall at Trent, had had a great manage in those actions: knowing the particularities of the most secret businesse, and had besides many memorialls in perusall, whereof Friar Paul tooke much delight; Because the conciliary action being newly dissolved (which by so long a course of time had held all Christendome in so much expectation) and (specially men of high spi­rit and intellectuals) in whom it begot a great cu­riositie to know how things had really past, of all which he had taken notes with his owne hand. He had like wise a very neere familiarity with the father Inquisitor, of the Dominican order, Fra. Gilolemo Bernerio da Correggio, who was after made cardinall of Ascoli by Sixtus V. of the congregation of the ho­ly office, and protector of the order of the Servi, with whom he continued servitude till his death.

How much he esteemed Fryer Paul, shall be men­tioned hereafter where it may be more necessary. All persons of learning that came to that Court, had a desire to confer with him, because he was al­ready gotten so forward in all the sciences, that he did not onely give all men satisfaction, but left them with so much wonder of his profoundnes in every thing (being yet but young) as if he had beene verst in that alone, and applyed himselfe to [Page 12]nothing else. And the service of that Prince seemed to require no lesse. Because as persons of divers pro­fessions resorted to his court, so he was desirous that his chaplains should treate and hold argument with all men of all things that fell into discourse. And he himselfe would ever propound some extravagant question, & at publique disputations, where he would appeare sometime unexpected. He used to command Fra. Paul to argue to some conclusion, wherein it was impossible he should be premeditated. As a­mong others at one time (which may serve for an example of many) in a Theologicall Thesis that Christ our Lord died at the age of three and thirty, being a subject to puzzell any indifferent wit. But Frier Paul with confronting the evangelists by their Easter, as if under his eye he had had the whole con­cordance of the Gospell, and with some allegations out of Eusebius, did to the wonder of all that under­stood him, reduce his respondent to so narrow a streight, that he was driven to say of Eusebius, Histo­ria est non vera narratio, whereat the Duke breaking into a laughter, replyed. Father, those of Saint A­lexis of the living and of the dead, are histories to you, and such like as are sold by the Mountebanks. And so in a kinde of whispering and jeering the disputation was broke up.

Nature at some certaine times produceth wits that are apt for any particular science; as in many ages after wee see not the like againe. Many such and very famous ones have beene in former times. In this of ours Vieta in the Algebra, Gilberto in the speculati­ons of the Magnetique vertues, Galileo in his know­ledge of the motions. The braine of Fra. Paul see­med [Page 13]to have a rare excellency in all these: but in the Mathematiques it was a thing incomparable, be­cause whatsoever remaines of antiquity, or of mo­derne writers, was but the least part of what he knew. He was no lesse curious to know all that had beene said of the Astrologiques, the vanity and in­utility thereof he did alwayes, and absolutely de­spise, because things in futurity either cannot be knowne, or cannot be avoided. But not long before his going from Mantua there happened a pretty ac­cident. The Duke who willingly interposed the pleasures of wit and facetiousnesse with the grave cares of his government, tempering wisely his trou­bles with Joviality of words and actions, had in his stable (whereof by the example of his ancestors, he kept a race of so great esteeme, that it is reported that at the battell of Pavy 15.25. Francis the first king of France was there mounted upon a horse which had beene given him, by the Marquise of Mantua. And Charles the fift in his warres made use of another of the same race which was bestowed on him; I say this Duke William had a mare that was in fole of a mule, and being neere the time of her foling, he desi­red Fra. Paolo to bestow a nights study with Astro­nomicall instruments that the horoscope, & the na­tale minute of the beast might be knowne with the scituation of the Heavens, and the posture of the starres at that time: which being done, and reduced into the forme of a figure or apotelesme, the Prince caused copies to be sent abroad to all the famous Astrologers of Europe, as well in Italy as in other places, with this declaration; That at such an in­stant of time a bastard was borne in the Dukes [Page 14]house, and I can very well tell that a good while af­ter the Prince made himselfe merry to reade the in­digents that came from divers parts. One would have this bastard to be a Cardinall, others that hee should be a great commander; others, that it prog­nosticated triumphes, or miters even as high as the very Pontificate.

There came rumour which got some credit, and is not yet extinct: That Fra. Paulo taking discontent at this action, was willing to leave the Princes service, fearing lest at some time or other by the Capricio's of the Princes braine, a worse encoun­ter might befall him: and to say truth Frier Paul commended much the excellency of the Princes wit; but withall had observed some toyish fancies wherewith he was too much pleased. But he him­selfe hath seriously affirmed, that this was no cause of his departure, nor yet the example of another Fryer of the same order called Cornelio da Codomo, who being likewise entertayned by the Duke had incurred his displeasure, and was put in prison, from whence he made his escape, leaving a generall opi­nion by the great meanes that were used to catch him againe, that he meant to put him to death. But hath alwaies rather confirmed it; That the Duke had all the reason in the world. And the Duke did honour him so much as to give him an account of the businesse and the writing it selfe which is ex­tant, (and I have seene it) which moved this great Prince to so just a disdaine (and this it was) That when the Cardinall Hercules de Gonsaga dyed, a cer­tayne young man that qualified himselfe to bee his sonne, not conceiving that he had quick justice done [Page 15]him by the Magistrates in the execution of certaine goods pretended to belong to him, did in the forme of a supplication deliver the Duke a reall and fa­mous Libell, taxing him to be an usurper and an un­just Tyrant, threatning him with divine revenge, and citing him before the tribunall of God, where­upon being imprisoned, hee confest that it was Cor­nelio da Codomo that had formed that scandalous writing.

Fame bore it out, that these two were the causes of his departing the Court, to which the course of time gave so much credit, that it is yet received for a truth among the elder sort, though it were un­doubtedly false. But the true cause of his depar­ture (which hee made with the Princes favour and approbation) was, because that a court life was so absolutely averse to his Genius, and his fame in re­ligion made him to be perpetually importuned by his friends and superiors, who had a designe to make use of his labours in their profession. Fryer Paul had added to his learning such an integrity of Re­ligious carriage, that being but a very young man hee was had in reverence of all men as an Idaea of modesty, of Piety, and all other vertues both Chri­stian and Morall. Some things may seeme para­doxes, but they are so well knowne, and have so great a testimony from men yet living, that hee that should goe about to question any of them must needs have put on a vizard of impudency poysoning his tongue with untruth, and his corrupted heart with malignitie of passion.

Let Fryers speake, let so many Senators witnesse, whether Fra. Paulo were ever heard to sweare by his [Page 16]faith, or speake an unseemely word: or ever seene to be angry, yet these are not the onely singularities of his later times when was he a servant to the state of Venice; but these and others have beene in him from his youth in such a perfection, that he never had any publique correction as was usuall with o­thers of religious orders. He was never reprehended for speaking an undecent word, nor doing an un­beseeming act. It was a marvellous thing how in so young a man that had not exceeded the age of twen­ty two, so many sciences (in so high a degree) should be united; besides those that are ordinary in them that live in Cloisters are (after literature of huma­nitie) the logique, Philosophy and Theologie. But to those, he had also joyned the knowledge of the lawes, perfectly of the common law, and more then meanely of the civill, all the Mathematiques and medicine, the knowledge of simples, of Hearbes, of or Plants, of Mineralls, with their transmutations, a sufficient understanding of divers tongues, beside the latine, the Greek, the Hebrew, and the Caldean. All which learning together would have had some­thing of monstrous in it, though it had been found in a maturer age, but from the holinesse of his conver­sation, he received such a splendour that even in that Spring of his yeares he did prognosticate what store and perfection of fruite might be expected from him: if it should please God to reserve him for further times. Although it be as true, that the knowledge alone of all that which humane understanding can raise it selfe to makes not a man perfect, though it may render him admired: Nay the devills them­selves are knowne for their great wisedome, and [Page 17]have a name of mighty knowledge. But goodnesse is that which gives the forme, piety, religion, and the vertues of the minde are the soule of this body. And the accumulation of sciences, and probity made this religious young man so venerable, and (I may say) so majesticall, that as it is a custome in Venice among the noble, and ingenuous youth, that if any of them be not so decent in their habite, or that they be of a lesse modesty in discourse or cariage, then they ought to be, yet when they appeare before the first Senator, they are carefull to put themselves into their best habite and posture, so in this order of the religion of Servi (for even a­mong the religious, especially those of the younger sort, are not alwaies under rule, nor as wee say with their bowes bended,) yet at the appearance of Fra. Paolo they were all composed reducing themselvs to a more seriousnes of behaviour, setting aside both sport and Joviality, as if his onely presence had been the black rod; whereupon it became a proverbe among them, whensoever he was present or appeared. E [...]qua sposa la mutiamo proposito, let us change our discourse, here comes the bride. Such power hath the presence of a man of knowne probity & innocency: even over the behaviour of others: yet neverthelesse he was so pleasing, so humble with all men, that hitherto I have not knowne that man that could say (ex­cept when he was in the publique imployment) that he had received a sharpe word, or seene a gesture from him expressing rigor to others, (although with himselfe) he were most severe.

Being consecrated Priest at the age of 22. he see­med to encrease the strictnesse of his retirednesse, [Page 18]and to be more intense upon the actions of piety and meditation. During which age and a good while af­ter, he had never tasted wine, except it were at the Celebration. His foode was so sparing, that for the most part he fed but upon bread & fruite; of flesh he had very little use till he was past 55. saying, that he abstayned or tasted very little, because his comple­xion would not beare it, but make him sick, and be­cause it bred him much headach. He went at that age to Millan, and it happened in a time when Cardinall Borromeo (at this day Saint Carlo) was in the fer­vour of the reformation of that Church, and in per­ticular reduced the confessours by a rigorous zeale to so smal a number (which either was because he found them very ignorant) or understood of great abuses committed in the administrations of penitence, whereof he cleerly purged their Churches. This great pastor had found the meanes to know the con­ditions, the life and quality of the Cloisters, as it appeared by so many that tooke their heeles, & tar­ried not for his judgment. It may be well imagined what intelligence he held with Padre Paolo whom he sent for, and against his inclination made him heare confessions, making use of him not onely in the Church of his owne order, but in others (as it was needfull) and tooke great affection in him, being much pleased with his company. He would al­waies be present at the most difficult discussions of cases of conscience & other consultations upon di­vers accidents, where the opinion of the most learned divines were had, and would often make him stay to dine with him in his refectory: because that Car­dinall in imitation of those ancient holy pastors. [Page 19] Ambrose and others, did frequently make a common life and table with those of his clergie.

At that time, and before his departure from the province of Mantua by that of Venice, as it is an or­dinary thing, that how vertuous and innocent so­ever a man be, he cannot be without trouble and emulation; being complayned of to the holy office of inquisition by one Maestro Claudio Piacentino his contemporary, but one that was unable to raise him­selfe by his study and vertue to that credit which Padre Paolo had, and therefore thought to equalize him by pulling him downe. But it proved much to his owne disadvantage, because howbeit the inquisi­tor received the accusation and formed the processe, yet in fine, the father would not answer, but appea­led to Rome about the formation of the processe, whither (the cause being called) after many wri­tings and receipts, It was concluded, that the Inqui­sitor should have a heavy reprehension with a taxa­tion of ignorance. And indeed it could not well be o­therwise: The accusation being that the father, who well understood the Hebrew tongue, had main­tained that from the first chapter of Genesis the ar­ticle of the most holy Trinity could not be dedu­ced; whereupon he opposed the Judge, not onely because he agreed with his accuser, but because he was not able to judge the cause, as having no knowledge of the Hebrew Tongue. And as soon as the cause was seen at Rome, it was thrown out of the Court, without so much as calling the Fa­ther to be examined, but onely by giving a checque to the Inquisitor. In this very time there was ad­ded to his naturall weaknesse two other infirmities, [Page 20]which he hath endured for many years; because li­ving (as wee have said) with an extream slendernesse of diet, and drinking nothing but water, and many daies not at all; and when thirst invited him, hee went to the pit, and drank onely once, and there­upon fell into such a costivenesse, that although it may seeme strange, yet it is very true, that ordi­narily hee staied three daies, sometimes a whole weeke, before those naturall parts which are de­signed to expell the excrements could doe their office, and with so much more paines, because it was accompanied with the disease of the Hemoroids, which by the long and violent force bred the falling downe of the streight gut, accompanied with a Flux from the Liver, which hath remained with him even to his old age. Upon this occasion be­gun the prescripts of Physitians (with whom hee converst rather to discourse of their art, than to make use of their Receipts, having formerly made a good progresse in that Science, wherein hee be­came marvellously excellent, and among other things it was an exhortation of his friends to per­swade him to drinke Wine. But to that he never rendred himselfe, till after the thirtieth year of his age, nor then but with much aversnesse; nor ever in fourty one years which he lived after, could hee take any liking to wine, except it were white, and that onely for the resemblance it hath to water, and amongst other things which he said hee had repented himselfe in his life time, this was one, that hee had been perswaded to drink wine.

Naturall affections may be sometime moderated, but I can hardly beleeve that they are ever extin­guisht. [Page 21]There are very few men that have been able to command themselves: But peradventure it will not be easie to find any one, who generally, and upon all occurrents was more a patrone, and com­mander of his affections than he. If once his judgement preceded, nothing was ever sufficient to remove his resolution, no kinde of meate could ever move his appetite, if he thought it dangerous, nor Physick would hee take, otherwise then hee took delightfull food, if hee believed it to be good for him. And so in all other things, yet neverthe­lesse he was used to say, that he never overcame any thing with more difficultie, than forsaking water to drinke Wine. But partly by his complexion, which was of an incredible meagrenesse, and part­ly by his additionall infirmities, hee could never be made beleeve, that hee could live a yeare to an end. This is witnessed by all those that were his famili­ars, that if he did not compute every day for the last, yet at least he computed every yeare, contrary to those that use to say, There is none so old, that he may not hope for a year of life; And hee said, hee never remembred himselfe so young, that he could hope for a yeares life. To this it may be ad­ded, that he having made a progresse above all be­liefe, in his studies, whereunto he was so devoted, that very few daies past in his private life, wherein hee studied not eight houres, although he would never write any thing for publication un­till he were constrained by a publique necessity. And in his actions among his friends (as they them­selves would say) he never appeared active nor re­solute, but cold and reserved, because he that hath [Page 22]no hope of life, seldome applies himselfe to actions of any great consequence. And neverthelesse the affaires of his owne province, and the instance of his friends, were able to cal him backe to his owne Country in Venice, & his province, where immediatly, al those that were of greater yeares giving place to an eminency of vertue, and integrity, more to be admired then rela­ted; he being already gone through all those degrees which the lawes of his order had appointed; of stu­dent, of Bachelor, of master, (which is the title of the Doctorates in Theologie) and being a yeare before that, aggregated to that most famous Colledge of Padua, was with universall applause 1579. created Provinciall, (with this addition that he should governe the studie as regent) for so they call the readers of the sacred Theologie.

That great Prince, who at his death desired an applause from his friends that stood about him, gave us to understand, that in every vocation whosoever carried himselfe well should not be defrauded of his due commendation. The dignities among religious men, being considered either by their profit, or their splendour are not things to be stood upon; but to sustaine the change of them with a due charitie and prudence, is more then can be performed by ma­ny. In these things, Padre Paolo chalkt out a way to his successours, by which they might arrive at their end with great reputation. In matters of judgment he gave them all an essay of an inflexible rectitude, and that which he strictly observed all his life long, was never to receive a donative (how little soever) never to admit any other proceeding in matter of justice but with acceleration, and expedition. [Page 23]No judgement of all those of his (which were innumerable) were at the instance of any high­er judgement, found fit to bee repealed. And I shall say this particular more by way of anticipati­on, that the Cardinall Santa Severina (for reasons that may bee alledged) shewed himselfe very vio­lent, that certaine sentences which the Father had given against some that were forward in the Car­dinals favour might be retracted, and having cau­sed the proceedings to be well compared with the relations of his auditors, was constrained to confess, that in point of justice, it could not be otherwise, nor better determined.

In his government he banished all factions, and particularities. None had ever cause to complaine of him, except it were some indifferent friends, that promised themselves more of his friendship than they had reason.

He left his Province with such orders and customs as (if they had been observed) had prevented a greater deale of inconvenience, wherewith they have been since afflicted. This (as the beginning of his employments) discovered a fraught age of prudence in the manage of businesse, and dexteri­ty of government, which (with age) was increased in him to such an excellency, that in so great an heape and innumerable number of affaires that passed through his hands, none were so involved in difficulty, but that his more than humane wit found a way to the head of it, either to dissolve it, or to shew that it was inextricable. And as it is repor­ted of some famous Chyrurgeons, that where they set to their fortunate hands, no wound prov'd in­curable; [Page 24]so to him, there were brought from all sorts of people the most arduous businesses, with this confidence, that either hee would presently finde out the knot, or that no man else could ever have the hope to doe it. And although it have seemed to some, that his inclination stood rather to severitie and rigour, than to clemency or sweet­nesse, yet that proceeded rather because he was of a serious and retired disposition, than any way fa­cile or joviall. But he was really of so compassio­nate a nature, that hee would neither doe injury himselfe to any, nor suffer another to doe it. And this, either goodnesse of nature, or tendernesse of affection, had so rooted it selfe in his soule in his graver age, that as it chances not onely in naturall things, but in his affections (above all other) the excesse whereof had not only extended his compas­sion towards men, but to all other sorts of crea­tures: Insomuch as his nature could not endure that any thing should be grieved or molested. And if it had been needfull to kill any of those crea­tures with his own hand, which God had appoin­ted for food and sustenance of life, true it is, that in the latter years of his life (excepting a great ne­cessity) hee would rather have abstained and fasted. But because he had formerly cut in peeces a num­ber of living creatures with his own hands to make Anatomies, whensoever he fell into the occasion of that discourse, he seemed to resent it with a kinde of compassionate displeasure and reluctance: And if in discourse or writing, he seemed at any time more punctuall in matter of justice, nothing being able to make him decline from the strict course [Page 25](blaming often the too great mildness of punitive justice) as an occasion of much and many abuses: yet withall, if it had concerned himselfe to admi­nister it, I am very well assured that in all his go­vernments, and many years super-intendence of his province, you would rather have discovered in him a defect of rigour than of mercy.

But in the administration of his owne charge, what a reputation of integrity, piety, and prudence, and of every vertue he had gain'd to himself, it may be gathered from hence. He was made provinciall of his order at the end of the twenty sixth yeare of his age (which was never conferred upon any so young as he) by any information that I could re­ceive neither before nor since, in 340. yeares that this order of the Servi had had a beginning. In this year of 1579. there was held a generall Chap­ter of the whole order in Parma, and because about tenne yeares before, by many Statutes made at di­vers times, and by the Popes themselves, concer­ning Secular Friers, as also by the Councell of Trent, it was resolved to be necessary to make new constitutions and rules for the government of the whole order. It was therefore decreed at that Chapter, for the deferring no longer of so good a worke, that three of the most learned, pious, and prudent men, should be chosen out of all the order of that religion to execute a businesse of such importance, as every one which well understands that knows what belongs to Government. One of these was Padre Paolo, who was but a youth in respect of the venerable and hoarie haires of the other two. Upon this occasion hee tarried a good while at [Page 26]home where he made a discovery of his most rich Talent to the cardinall Alexander-Farnese Protector, and to the other Santa Severina Vice Protector of the order. The charge that was particularly layd upon him, was to accōmodate that part which con­cern'd the sacred Cannons, the reformations by the Councell of Trent which were but newly come forth, and the formes of their judgments. All the worke lay upon the three that were deputed, but because he had a more exquisite knowledge of the Cannon and civill lawes, and of the Conciliary de­terminations, the businesse of that particular was wholly remitted to him; and he alone gave forme to that whole part which treated of judgments in accommodation to the Claustrall state, and that with so much brevity, cleernesse, and profundity, that those judges that were so knowing and onely exercised in matter of judicature, have admired it as the action of one that had consumed his age in nothing but study of the Iawes of that order. And it is an argument to convince the errour of those that beleeve, that they which give themselves most to the study of sciences, are thereby rendred unable for government and policy. It being an error every way as grosse as it is pernitious. Whereof wee shall give a lively example in the following course of the life of father Paul.

But leaving at Rome (by the occasion of this im­ployment) a great fame of his knowledge, and prudence, not onely in the Courts of these two Car­dinalls, (from whom by order exprest in the Apo­stolical Briefe of Gregory the thirteenth.) It was appointed that all statutes which were made should [Page 27]receive approbation. For it was sometimes necessa­ry to resort to, and treate with the Pope himselfe; From which burden being now discharged, he re­turned to his owne government.

When he had ended this charge of Provinciall­ship, and easing his shoulders of so great a weight, he entred into some more quietnesse, which he said was all the repose he enjoyed in the whole course of his life, because nothing fell out in his govern­ment, wherein the evills were not well discerned, or else were growne tolerable without factions or discontentments. And as a weary man relisheth his rest with more sweetnesse: so for three whole yeares he gave himselfe to nothing but speculations of na­turall things. And his knowledge in them being growne to some perfection, he past further to opera­tions with his owne hand, in the transmutation, and distillation of all sorts of mettalls. Not that he was ever toucht with the vanity of the possibility of ma­king gold, or that he thought a discreete man could any way engage himselfe in such an inquiry. Of this it may be an argument, that at that time (for many monthes together) there continued in Venice (after he had travelled Italy, and deluded so many Princes and Prelates) That famous impostor Mamugna, who was beleeved to make gold, which exprest very well the sence of Diogenes when he said (he did not se­gregate from the vulgar no not Kings themselves) Because into that credence, or rather into that Co­medy, the vulgar did not onely rush with such an excesse of confidence, that they called all men mis­creants that did not beleeve the making of gold. Yea Cardinalls, Princes, the Pope himselfe, Sixtus quintus [Page 28]so great a Prince, and of such knowledge and expe­rience, had given out that he would question the state of Ʋenice, for giving protection to such an Impostor if his knavery were not discovered. The father Paul made it alwaies a matter of Jest, and to some of his friends that would have carried him to the experiment, he alwaies answered, that if he should do so, they would not onely repute him in­constant, but esteeme him for a very foole. And a­mong his intimate friends (with whom he had conference concerning this Imposture) were some gentlemen who, relying upon the fathers judgment, were the inventors of a Mascherada to expresse his opinion. One clothing himselfe like the Mamugna, in a boate with fire and coales, and bellowes, and and glasses, and other chymicall tooles went about the citty crying, Al Magmugna Atre lire il soldo del loro fino. who buys a shillings worth of of fine pure gold for nine pence! And one of these is at this day a most excellent Senator of Venice, whose singular life, & vertue deserves a recomendati­on upon a better occasion. The father used to mocke those that told him they had seene him make gold, and would alwaies say, why now wee shall see what the Chaus had wont to say. There being at that time in Ʋenice one of those Nuntios that came from Constantinople about affaires; whom they called a a Chaus. And this Chaus having heard of this man that he made gold, made no other answer to it (but by a Laconicall brevity which is usuall with that nation) Il gran signore dumque verra aservirlo. If you make gold the great Turke shall come to be your servant. And the father who so willingly held [Page 29]argument with any that profest distillations, could not be satisfied how the humour of gold could be made entrant, because al his exercise was only for the knowledge of nature. Wherein the great Physi­cian of our age can testifie the greatnesse of his expe­rience, and of the many things of his finding out, which were communicated to others of that pro­fession, wherewith they have honoured themselves; there being no admired effect, no occult propertie; nothing either written or experimented: which he had not either seene or examined. And beyond hu­mane beleefe he was verst in all the things of those arts, in so much as men thought he had employed his whole life in nothing else.

About that time, and long after he exercised himselfe in the anatomy of all sorts of creatures, and for the most part of living creatures which he used to cut up himselfe: particularly the anatomy of the eye, wherein he was so perfect, that Aqua-penden­te did not disdaine to alledge in his reading, nor in his printed book the authority of father Paul. And that famous man when he spoke of him, he spake as of the Oracle of that age. Besides other learning, he was much verst in the knowledge of the propriety of simples, of the nature of mineralls, in so much as in those professions whatsoever he knew not, was not cognoscible. But such as are well informed of the truth, have made it a rationall wonder, that as Aqua pendente in his tractat de visu in genuously confesseth, that he had learned from him the manner wherby in the Crystalline humour vision is made by refraction, and that he was the first observer that the tunicles of the eyes were dark and thick (as all the rest) but that they onely became diafa [...]ious and [Page 30]transparent by being continually drencht, and moistened with a cleere humour, as the nature of Cavernes in Mountaines and rocks renders the earth transparent, which is of it selfe most darke and dus­ky by a continuall irrigation (as wee may see in pibbles and flint-stones.) And more over how in­fusion by art makes barke of trees and shells and rootes translucide, which of themselves are of darke­nesse and densitie. So the whole tractate concerning the eye which passeth under the name of Aqua-pen­dente, or at least so much as conteyns new & rare spe­culations & experiments, is the work of Padre Paolo, wherof I have had speech with some that were eye­witnesses, and knew that a due part of the praise was not attributed to him that deserved it all. But much more in another matter of more moment which was the finding out of those valvule, those inward shuts or folds that are within the veines. Of which argument I doe not finde, that any, either ancient or moderne hath made mention, because it was a thing unthought of till these times that Aqua-pen­dente moved the question at a publique Anatomy. But there are still living many eminent and learned Physitians, among which are Santorio and Pietrou Asselineo a French man, which knew that it was no speculation nor invention of Aqua­pendente but of the Fathers, who considering the gravitie and weight of the blood, grew into opinion that it could not stay in the veins, except there were some bunch to hold it in, some folds or shuttings, at the opening and clofing of which there was given a passage and necessary Equilibrium to life. And upon his owne naturall judgement he set him­selfe [Page 31]to cutting with more exquisite observation, whereupon hee found out those Valvuie, and the right use of them, which doe not onely stop and hinder the blood from dilating it self by his weight into the veines (as wee observe in some crooked and sweld knots, but also that blood running up and downe with so much liberty, and in so great quan­tity) it might easily suffocate the naturall heate of those parts which ought to receive their nourish­ment from it. And in consequence he made disco­very, that the Athletick Habit, which in his judge­ment, and according to Hippocrates (bonitatis summum attingit) had no other cause of being so dangerous and deadly, but because the blood being in so great a quantity in the veines, might hinder the use of those Valvule, whereby of necessity followed suffocating for want of ventilation. Of this hee gave account to some friends of that pro­fession, and especially to Aqua-pendente, who made very great use of it in a publique Anatomy, after which divers famous Authors have written much upon that subject.

But me thinks I see alwaies the very gesture of the good Asselenio who when he takes occasion to speake of the father, lift up both his hands, shruggs his shoulders, and hanging his head on one fide (to speak it in a kind of a French phrase.) Oh how many things have I learned of Padre Paulo in anatomy, in mine­ralls, & simples. This is a pure soule in which there shines a Candour, an excellency of nature, & an ignorance of doing any thing but well. A father being most a famous phy­sician of of Orleans, had a sonne whome he had de­signed to be of his owne profession, and bred him [Page 32]in such a way, that at nine yeares practise he begun to worke in distillations. And although in Phy­fick and Anatomy he be second to very few, yet I believe him to be before all others in the know­ledge of simples of mineralls, and of their vertues and uses for mans body. He came very young into Italy, being sent thither by his father to be with­drawne from the danger of the civill warres in France which were then very violent. And being come to Venice, he fell in love with the place as a Country of benignity to all travellers, and had no minde to leave the place, where he exercised the profession of Physick, rather as a friend with his friends, then for gaine, having done many cures that were miraculous when he wrought alone, but not willing to shew his talent among others, because by nature he was averse from contending or making any oftentation. This man from his very arrivall took conversation with the father, which hath con­tinued with a most holy friendship preserv'd betwixt them for eight and thirty yeares. And he more then any other can speake of the fathers wondrous know­ledge in the foresaid professions, and of things by him invented, whereof an intire volume might be written.

But being not like to continue long in this holy and vertuous quietnesse; the fame of his prudence and hability of government, after three yeares drew him away (and as I may say) from that garden of spirituall delights, into a thorny field of toile and wearinesse of spirit and body, and at a generall Chapter he was by common consent created Pro­curator of the Court called Proctor generall.

[Page 33] This is the supreame dignity of that order under the Generall, and in those times that religion flou­rished with learned men, none were assumed into that order except men of exquisite prudence, (be­cause the charge beares with it a necessity to defend all the variances and controversies at Rome, that are promoted in all the religion, besides the necessi­ties of appearing in all courts and congregations to maintaine the causes that are brought to the court) and of singular learning to be able to pray before the Pope upon daies that are design'd to that order. And because the Proctors of Court are much im­ployed by the Popes in the congregations as in rea­ding a publique lecture upon wisdome.

In these three yeares that he dwelt in Rome, beside that incomparable prudence wherwith he treated of matters of religion, there was knowne to be in him a great aptnesse to greater things, and by order from the Pope himselfe he entred into divers congregati­ons, where there was occasion to discourse in occur­rent actions upon important difficulties of doctrine. At which meetings he came to know and take intimate acquaintance with father Bellarmine, who was often present, and was afterwards a Cardinall, whose friendship continued even to the end of his life. He knew there likewise the Doctor Navarro, who was then at Rome about that famous cause of the Arch-Bishop of Toledo, and he was wont to tell with a great deale of delight that he had many times had discourse with one of the ten compagnons of father Ignatius who then lived. And I believe it was father Bobadiglia, wherein I should be sorry to be mistaken. Onely it is remembred that he found [Page 34]him often doing his exercise in certaine remote pla­ces, and that he seemed to be full of holy simplicity, and that he told him freely at one time, that it was never the minde of the father Ignatius, that his com­pany should be reduced to what they were now, and if he returned into the world he should not know them, being become a quite other thing, and so much changed from what he left them.

How he behaved himselfe towards the Cardinall Santa Severina protector appears in this, that he a­lone among so many that were imployed, went away in his good grace and favour, which was no small matter with a Prelate of his disposition, who was used to call those that went according to his by as, without contradiction, poore spirited fellows and flatterers, and those that made lively opposition against him, & spake their minde undauntedly; them he hated for being too free and insolent. But above all he was entred so far into the grace of Cardinal Castagna, who was after Pope, by the name of Ʋrban the seaventh, and succeeded Sixtus V. that he was infinitely pleased with him. And t'is very like that this Prelate (being of a more then humane meeke­nesse, of life, most innocent, and for his carriage irreprehensible) the similitude of their dispositions might be the cause of uniting their affections. The father never visited him, but by the cheerefullnesse of his face he might discerne that his visite was so much the more accepted by how much it was more frequent. And after his going from home, he al­waies continued to be his servant. The short time that he lived in the Pontificate, which was onely thirteene dayes, gave no assurance how his favour [Page 35]would have continued to the Father after his as­sumption to that Throne; for this very opinion that he had of the Father to bee a subject of so in­comparable learning and ability (I have this testi­mony from one that was present when the newes was brought him of his death) that he said without any shew of alteration; Ideo raptus est ne malitia mu­taret intellectum ejus. He had once occasion to goe to Naples to sit President as Vicar Generall at the Chapters, and to make the Visitation, where hee grew acquainted with that famous witt Gio. Battista Porta, who in some worke of his that came to light makes honorable mention of Padre Paolo as of no ordinary personage, and particularly of his specu­lar perspective. The time of his Office of Proctor Generall in Court, happened to be at the beginning of the Pontificate of Sixtus the sift, who (as it is be­leeved, having been a Fryer, knew much of the worth of those religious persons that were remarkable, and among others having had information of the quali­ty of the Father) gave him imployment in congre­gations, and other manages more frequently then was usuall. He was present at the discussion of that matter: Whether the Duke de Ioyeuse being a Ca­puchin were dispensable, and to that purpose were spoken (by those that would flatter) such exhor­bitances of the untimely power, or rather the ponti­ficall omnipotency, that Father Bellarmine being pre­sent told the Father in his eare: These are the things that have made Germany revolt, and will produce as much in France, and other Kingdomes.

Upon a time the Pope being in the street in his Litter, called the Father unto him, holding him a [Page 36]good while in discourse, which was nothing else but of certaine memorials that were come to his hands against the Generall of that time. This un­wonted passage, and observ'd by the Court that used to make observations upon all things, was presently divulged abroad how much the Father was in the Popes favour; what would you have more? The vanity had already made him a Cardinall. But this favour which was neither sought nor desired by him, cast him into a most troublesome persecution. At his going from Venice he had left his friends at the Councell, and directions of master Gabriell Collison, with whom hee had formerly joyned in the taking away certaine ill customes, and grievances which some superiours had imposed upon others that were weaker then themselves, and were detested under the odious name of Tyranny. But as it often happens, that what we detest in others, we are ready to justi­fie in our selves, and the nature of Gabriel being (as it was afterwards discerned) to bee onely a friend and lover of his owne interest: In those three yeares of the Fathers absence from the Province, hee had gotten an absolute Dominion whereto he had attai­n'd and maintained himselfe by very great extorti­ons: one onely impediment was a mighty traverse to him, that the Father was shortly to returne to Ve­nice, to whom he knew such practises would bee no waies pleasing; and he was out of hope of inclining him to those courses of his, because he had had expe­rience of his integrity, & that he was not to be cor­rupted. He conceived his onely remedy was to make him a proposition, against which the wisest men can hardly make a defence (which was) the way of Ho­nours, [Page 37]and therefore to remaine at home. And began seriously to perswade him by letters, engaging some of his deare friends to propound it to him: That the credit which hee had got at court might make him a way to the advancement of his fortune. The Fa­ther among other rejections of that Counsell, and to be troubled no more with those arguments an­swered him by a letter in cypher (which was usuall betwixt them) wherein were words of discredit cast upon the Court, as if dignities were obtained by ill meanes, and for his part, hee made so little ac­count of honour so gotten, that he did rather abho­minate it; Master Gabriel kept the letter, and cy­pher, and after three yeares end, that his office was expired, the Father returned home to his Country, to his quietnesse and to his studies, but was not able to approve the extortions which Gabriel had used in the Province, wherein he was maintained by the favours of some Courtiers of the Cardinal Sancta Se­verinas Court, who did not favour him gratis neither, (it being kept upon very good account) that the Generalship, whereunto hee was at last preferred, stood him in no lesse then 40000 duckets) as there are many that can very well make the computes and tell the particulars,) all of it being taken out of o­ther mens purses, wherein the Father alone declaring himselfe not to approve, and lesse to consent to those courses of his, they came at last to a rupture, and ma­nifest dissention, wherein that hee might prevaile being already crept into so much favour at Court that it was a wonder, and particularly to see the Cardinall Protector, who was then chiefe of the ho­ly office of the inquisition, to whom the letter with [Page 38]the Cipher, was presented, who did not thinke it fit to proceede against the father by way of the holy office (as master Gabriel hoped he would have done) yet neverthelesse he shewed an implacable indigna­tion against him. And as the multitude are used to turne on that side where the winde blows fairest, although he had reduc't himselfe to his quietnesse without medling any further with matters of go­vernment, because he saw the disease was growne incurable: yet neverthelesse he was much troubled (although not in his owne person) wherein neither art nor violence could ever finde the least defect (whereupon to attacque him:) but in some of his friends who being not exempt from ordinary de­fects, were not onely made incapable of degrees and honours, but every venial sinne of theirs was im­puted to be a mortall vice. And Santa Severina him­selfe employed even the authority of the holy office against them, by meanes so strange and ends so base, that I dare not mention what I have heard, for feare it might give the world too great a scandall; In which way of prosequution this is all the remedy that can be had, that such as are so narrowly in quisited may in their recourse to Rome with their commissions finde Justice.

Among the fathers great disturbances (whereof wee shall have occasion to speake hereafter) this was one. There was one Fryer Julio an old confessor, who being of an irreprehensible life, had much con­course to him to confession: with a notable emolu­ment of almes.

This man from the first entrance of Fryar Paul into Religion (having beene his mothers confes­sor) [Page 39]undertooke to keepe him so far as belong'd to his clothing, and the expence of his journeyes and bookes; because the father to the very last of his lif would never have more then one simple garment, so that if he had fallen into the river he must have kept his bed till that had beene dryed againe. He never had any ornament of chamber, and so he hath conti­nued till the expiration of his soule, his moveables being onely a portable quadrant of Christ in the garden, a crucifix with a naturall deaths head at the foot, as his peculiar looking-glasse, and three houre glasses of sand to take measure of his time. He never had of money more then was necessary for a dayes use. And this Fryer Julio, till he was so old that he began to lose the vigour of his intellectualls, kept him meanly clothed and onely according to necessity. The Monastery alwaies supplying him, with what was necessary and convenient for his garments, and other necessarie expences. In fine, the father was never put to provide for him selfe while he was under the care of this good old man. It is not to be doubted that the tranquillity of the mind hath a principall foundation in the internall parte, in a profound knowledge of divine and hu­mane things, without which every externall thing is insufficient and vaine, because a man that is once dejected, cannot be sustayned nor held up by any of those things. Although it cannot be denied but that externall helps may adde something to quietnesse. Now to disturbe the father in the contentment which he had (without wearinesse) in those poore mentioned necessaries, and seeing that as a square figure is immoveable in every posture, so they apply­ed [Page 40]themselves to an experiment, whether in the person of this nursing father of his he had any sense, and by divelish informations they first moved the Patriarch Priuli to deprive him of his faculty of con­fessing, thereby to shorten the father of his wonted, but poore, and yet satisfactory allowance.

And this course they held, that the Patriarch be­ing entred into some pretences with the Hermits of St. Hermagora, who by their perpetuall retirednesse, or rather imprisoning themselves, were found to be in such a reputation of holinesse, that they needed no other defence. They gave that Prelate to under­stand, that Fra. Julio who had beene confessor, and minister of the holy masse and communion to them for many yeares, was the man that went about to excite such as were devoted to him; and others of the prime nobility to oppose themselves against him; And it went so far that the businesse was represen­ted at Rome as a disobedience, and from the Pro­tectors Court, where they held intelligence, they produced a letter that served to their purpose, and so they tooke away Fra. Julio, and sent him out of the dominions (as far as Bologna) after he had dwelt at Venice in high esteeme of honesty, above five yeares. Charity towards the poore man made Padre Paolo take a journey to Rome, where he solici­ted and obteyned the returne of his innocent father againe to Venice, whither he himselfe also returned shortly after his wonted study, and exercise.

Wee are not to concurre in opinion with some Philosophers, that our sensitive and mentall faculties are pure and meere possibilities, because, holding that opinion it would not follow what fortune [Page 41]were a good encounter, either to have a better or a worse complexion, or temperament of nature. And it is most certaine, that the temperament and com­plexion have a great part in the habilities or inhabi­lities of men. The father had his senses the most subtile and of the greatest vivacity that were possible to be found in any, especially his eye being of a most quick and sharpe sight. His taste most perfect, where­by he was able to discerne things that were almost insensible. But in compounded meates it was a wonder how quickly he was able to distinguish ei­ther the benefit or the danger, discerning infalli­bly the one from the other; whereof when there was occasion, and that he knew by certaine evidence, and reasons, that it concerned him to have a care to prevent poysoning; he would not onely not seeme to have the least dislike or suspition of any thing, as one that knew by proofe, that those are mira­culously preserved that are in Gods protection, but besides for as much as might concerne humane pru­dence, he held himselfe secure, that in his meate the exquisitenesse of his sense, would give him notice, & in his drinke, where the greatest danger lay, he held a more watchfull care. This exquisitenes or passibi­lity of senses reflected upon his minde as by conse­quence, whereby it was a thing to be admired, that every thing tooke impression, and stucke with him so tenaciously; when he entred into any place or roome, all the images or formes of the least things he carried away imprinted in his memory: and up­on occasion his friends would aske him how it was possible he could take notice of such pretty things. If he read a booke (and he used to read all of any [Page 42]account) that came forth, he knew all, and could re­member the very leafe where he had observed any thing though of very little moment. But with me it happens otherwise, when in bookes I cannot finde, or else go searching for what I know; and many times I skip it over, at least in a kinde of study, which they call Studium vagum, a wandring study. But in him no such distinction was knowne, with whom every thing was fixt. And the thing of grea­test wonder was, that all impression being so easie with him, the cancelling or losse of it as difficult. And with these excellencies he had so much humi­lity, that he would grant it no otherwise to any that praised him for that perfection, then to tell them that they praised him for a great imperfection, and for an excellent weaknesse: which in all other things was prejudiciall to him, for he would seriously af­firme, that he employed no greate care in his rea­ding or other observations, but that his great passi­bility, and imperfection was the reason of his re­tention. And to those that argued it to be a perfecti­on, because the retentive was so easie and stable, he would reply, that it shewed a weaknesse, and a greater passibility, because not onely the object in him was mooving, and consequently inferred passi­on; but, every little relique, and Idea of the object, continued it.

But this probleme we leave to others to dispute of. From hence, and from his perpetuall study, (wherein both before and after hee had laid down Magistracy) he had so plunged himselfe; I beleeve his exquisite knowledge was raysed.

It is was an admirable thing that he did not only [Page 43]understand the Canonicall lawes, and decrees, but that hee knew the times when every Canon was made, the fountaines from whence they were drawn, & the cause which had moved the making of them. In the matter of Benefices which is so intricate, so vari­ous, and so many relations, he knew all the reasons controverted, the progresses, changes, and alterati­ons. But with this Theorie, he brought from home with him all the practise of so many congregations and tribunalls as are there, with their presidents and their proceedings. And which is yet more strange; hee had as it were painted in his memory the places, situations, the figures, the statutes, and whatsoever he had at any time seene remain'd as im­printed with him. But howsoever from this either passibility or imperfection of temperature (as hee called it) or sublimity or felicity of understanding as others esteemed it; (and not from any study of Physiognomy that hee was ever knowne to make,) there was bred in him that great knowledge which he had of persons; In which kinde of knowledge I cannot truly finde in all course of time, that there is mention made of any that knew so much as hee. And if I should tell you the particular successes (as many times from beholding but the faces of men) but most of all from one single conference or dis­course, (as if they had had the little window in their breast which Momus so much desired) how far he could penetrate into the nature, the customes, the inclinations, and carriages of men, I should be affraid that with pure truth I should take away the credit of what I write. But this necessity of obser­ving things so minutely (though either he were [Page 44]not willing, or cared not much for it) yet in length of time it had reduced him to such a subtilty of judgment, that even in the religon & among the Fryers themselves there grew a report (which fince Malevolent people have augmented in his latter yeares,) that he had a familiar spirit. A vanity which hath no need of confutation. From this roote sprung that marvellous way of treating with all sorts of persons to their satisfactions, because hecould immediatly penetrate the nature, the inclination, the designes, and like a perfect Musitian make his judg­ment of the instrument by the first touch: so by ma­king men speake, he knew their ends, their inte­rests, their drift, their resolutions upon businesse, and with most admirable quicknesse, the very an­swers that they could make; And he regulated him­selfe so in all his proceedings, that having treated with him of all qualities of persons, of Princes, of subjects great and meane ones, seldome any man left him without admiration, but both by consent and conceipt it was the testimonie of all that father Paul was an eminent personage. From this foun­taine flowed that quicknesse of knowing immediat­ly what answer to make to all persons in al matters that were propounded to him. Whereof I would bring you some proofes if so many hundreds, and thousands of persons yet alive, had not seene the ex­perience (and as I may say) not in a few but in all things.

In histories both sacred, and profane he ravisht men into admiration of his answers, by the very places, the times and occasions, and precise acts, as if his fancy had beene the very scene where he [Page 45]had seene them acted. There have happened to come to Venice in our daies divers Virtuosi in severall pro­fessions. One from beyond the mountaines (who had made exquisite study in the properties of the load­stone, believing) and with very good reason (that he knew as much as any other) was admitted to con­fer with the father, and finding that he could not alledge neither speculation nor experiment, where­in the father was not as knowing, and much more then he both in his reasons, and the fabricke of his instruments, he became so much amaz'd that he had forgotten where he was. The most rare inventions of instruments, engines for measures, for weights, for horologies, for mathematicall and military u­ses, and for all purposes were brought to him to see, and thereof to give his opinion, a thing to be admired, how as if he had understood nothing but the Mechaniques, he would presently comprehend the designe, and give judgment whether it would serve for the thing it was intended for; or not, with the meanes how to better it, how to facilitate, and make another like it, with what oppositions or de­fects. But they say more of him, those that brought him instruments to see with what facility he told them what they were made for; saying. This instrument is to take a scituation, or to measure a voyage, or to lift a great weight, or to know how to returne to unknowne places by the same way they came. The particulars would make a volume. Signor Alfonso Antomini a Cavaglier of the most sub­lime vertues morall, civill, politique and military that can any way render a gentleman amiable; after he had beene in Germany and Flanders to see the [Page 46]warres, and so likewise with observation in others as with exercise of his owne person, and especially of his wit in observing all things, was raised to such a degree of military knowledge as very few have ar­rived to, and was called back by the most serene Republique of Venice, to doe them some service concerning the commotions that were then in Italy. But those being fallen into a condition which might rather be called rumors of warre then open warr, and not obtayning a libertie to depart to any place of reall wares, gave himself to a remeditati­on of what he had formerly observed, especially the orders of the Prince Maurice of Oranges, and withal to se what Plobyus & some other authors, wherein he might know the orders of the ancient Romane mili­tia, and of other people, and upon this occasion wrote a booke how a present militia might be ma­naged. But having conceived in his minde the inven­tions of many instruments and military engines; he was desirous to goe to Venice, to have conference with the father, and to impart his thoughts; and and receive his judgment therein, and being acci­dentally fallen upon the subject of glasses and per­spectives, in which study Antonini had lately em­ployed his witts, the father did not onely discourse with him ex improviso upon the fabrick of many sorts of glasses and of their effects, which seemed to to have some thing miraculous, but presently ta­king pen and paper gave him the figures in forme with their demonstrative reasons, as if he had come newly from studying. Halazen, or Vitellio, and others of that profession, although he was able to give a true account, that it was above fortie yeares fince [Page 47]he had beene verst in any of those authors.

But to returne to my discourse, he being come from Rome to his rest, and to his studies, returned al­so to his vertuous conversations, and all the time that he could spare from divine offices, (wherein he was alwayes constant, when not hindred by publique imployment) and never omitting his pri­vate devotions, he spent at his booke. About that time he wrote some of his owne conceipts, naturall physicall, and Mathematicall, which when he tooke a review of afterwards, he made no account of, and was wont to say. Oh what childish things past through my minde? And I am very certaine, that if they had beene seene by learned men, they would not have deem'd them childish. His quietnesse then begun to be a little distracted by an accident that happened in religion. It was a common expectation in the religion that a Milanese, who was thought to deserve well should be made generall; But the great Duke of Toscany opposed it, and by his power at Rome caused a Bolognise borne at Budri to be crea­ted Generall, who was a reader in Pisa of the Ma­thematiques. This was a man of great learning and goodnesse, but not able so for government as was needfull, to sustaine such a charge in times of so great factions and discontent. And very shortly af­ter there flew such memorialls and advertisements to Rome concerning his simplicity, and the crime of his companions, which were all laid to his charge, that favour failing him by the death of the great Duke Francesco which happened 1587. Sixtus V. and the Cardinall Santa Severina Protector concurring both in one minde, which was not to favour [Page 48]that man in his office of Generall (because he was inclined another way) resolved that his cause should come to examination. And after a long time of stri­ving about the deputation of Judges by the Cardinal Santa Severina because the religion was then in factions, and what one man proposed another re­fused, at last the Pope who had taken knowledge of Padre Paolo, undertooke to determine the contro­versie, and commanded him to goe thither to un­derstand the businesse. So he was appointed to goe to Bologna where he continued many monthes in the treaty of that troublesome cause. Because the Generall having obtained that advertisement of the proceedings, should be given from time to the Au­ditor of del Torrone there being also before him at that time some Crimininall causes of of importance and it was in the publique prison they sate; whe re­they fell often into differences of what was fit to be done. For satisfaction whereof it had beene ne­cessary to write, and to expect resolutions from Rome. And it was well worth observing, that in all the controverted Points, the opinion of the father was ever approved of, notwithstanding the Audi­tors themselves use to be the most consummate and and absolute men in matters of judicature. But the processe and the cause were both determined by the death of the Generall, although some sentences which the father had given against some of the Fry­ers, stood unrepealed.

The father being come back to Venice, resumed the course of his former studies, and of his retired­nesse from bufinesse frequenting his accustomed ver­tuous conversations, and the resort that was to the house of fignor Andrea Moresim (whom we name [Page 49]before) being growne very numerous, and frequent because there came thither a great part of such as profest learning, and not onely of the nobility whereof some subjects are since risen to be great Se­nators, and like starres in the firmament of the most serene Common-wealth for goodnesse, Religion learning and civill prudence; but there were like­wise admitted into that meeting, all sorts of virtuosi, as well seculars as religious, beside the most eminent persons of learning that were then met at Venice, or in Italy or of any other nation that did not faile to be present in that place, as in one of the most cele­brated conventions that had ever beene consecrate to the Muses. In my life I have not seene more ver­tuous exercises, and I wish it had pleased God that as the vertues of those two Andria and Nicolo the un­cles (which discended by inheritance unto their nephews) so there might have beene in Venice such another meeting, where there were met at some­times five and twentie or thirtie men of rare en­dowments. At this meeting the ceremony (which is a thing so much affected in our times and so superflu­ous) had no countenance which tries the braines of the wiser sort, & vainely spends so much time in an an artificiall kind of lying, that signifies nothing be­cause it signifies so much, but a civill and free confi­dence was onely there in use. It was allowed every man to make his discourse of whatsoever pleased him best, without restriction of passing from one subject to another, provided it were alwaies of new matter, and the end of their disputation was for nothing else but to finde out truth. But the felicitie of our fa­ther was rare, who upon any subject that was pro­pounded [Page 50]did not onely discourse without premedi­tation; but made no difference of sustaining or im­pugning any proposition in a scholastique way. All which he did with so much facilitie that it rai­sed a wonder in all men. And afterwards in his ri­per age, when he was put in minde of those exerci­ses, he would simile at them as at puerilities. At this time the civil warrs in France flam'dout, and the fa­ther was pleas'd to heare such as could discourse of them. And that pleasure continued with him to his lives end, to heare and understand any thing of the state of the world, and how things were carried. This was a generall Idaea with him, wherein he sel­dome failed in his judgment, if any newes that were spread abroad, was either true or false, that upon things present he would settle a judgment with so much prudence in relation to what succeeded, that it made men wonder and seeke after his opinion, as if it had beene a prognostication. And for as much as at the golden ship in the merchants street there u­sed to meete a sont of gallant and vertuous gentle­men to recount their Intelligences, one with ano­ther; among which the good Perrot a frenchman, (whom for his candour and civility, besides his firmenesse in religion, they called the true Israelite, alluding to that Saying of our saviour. Hic est verus Israelita in quo dolus non est) thither also came Mer­chants that were strangers, and such as had not onely beene over all Europe, but in the east and west Indies, and the father among others found meanes to be among them. And as in that minde of his every lit­tle thing tooke impression, so he had likewise an admirable dexterity to make other men enter into discourse.

[Page 51] Himselfe was in all his life time of very few words, but pithy and sententious, acute without scoffing, ye he tooke great pleasure to make men speake and with a dexterity, like Socrates delighted to make discovery of the abilities that were in o­thers. And this he called, to make them deliver themselves, or to helpe them to bring forth. And the dexteritie arose, not onely from being verst, but consummate, and made up in all sorts of learning, because he was able to follow every one, in his own element. Physitians in medicine, and Mathemati­cians in the Mathematiques, and so in all other things. And upon what subject the discourse fell, he that knew him not very well, went away perswaded that that subject was his principall profession and master piece. And when he met with any person that was eminent in any art or science, he would take occasion to aske him questions with an inex­plicable mildenesse, till he had drawne out of him what was possible to knowe, without shew­ing any importunity or troublesome curiositie. But his greatest pleasure was to discourse with those that had beene abroad, & would give him a true relation of countryes, of customes, of people, & of religions, having himselfe also had an extreame desire of pere­grination. Signor Bernardo Sichini patron of the shop, where they used to meete, had among others a sonne (that yet lives) of a wit far above the pro­fession that he followes, both because he had studi­ed at Lovaine, and besides, nature is not so malig­nant, and partiall as she is accused to be, but produ­ceth many time in persons of meane fortune, wits that are of a great eminence and capacity. With this [Page 52]man, the father entred a great familiaritie, which continued betwixt them till death. And in this he seldome failed, when he met with any man, that had knowledge or practise in forraine countryes to dis­course at larg with him. Thus much I observe by the way, that the fathers acquaintance in this place be­gan in 1586. about one and twenty yeares before the differences fell out betwixt the most excellent common-wealth of Venice, and Paul V. after which there were invented so many calumnies, and falsi­ties which drew a prejudice to the Merchant, in his trading. And thereupon he begunne to withdraw himselfe from that company. But Signor Alnise would never give his consent, preferring the fami­liarity of the father, before all or any detriment, that could befall him. This was the time wherein the father had the greatest happinesse and the most quiet enjoyments of his life. Because although he had three great infirmities which were bred toge­ther in him, and with which he made account to be accompanied to his grave. The flux from his liver, the falling downe of the straite gut, and a periodicall or intermittent headach, beside the trouble of the Hemorroyes, all which were by him supported with so much cheerefullnesse, and serenity of heart as if he had beene the soundest man in the whole world, and he reputed them divine favours and na­turall admonitions of the dislodging, which he be­lieved his soule must ere long make out of her earthly mansion for any thing else it may be said that he thought himselfe to be in a garden of de­lights, and to tread upon roses. Because for matter of want he knew none, having no desire of an thing, [Page 53]being most rich in his povertie, without money without industry how to advance any, without thoughtfullnesse, having left al his cares to father Gi­ulio & without books (except such as were daily sup­plyed him by his great friends, which he had read all over, and had made in his understanding the greatest library that any Prince in the world had, beside the unfurnisht nakednesse of his chamber, with the slen­dernesse of his diet, which was sent him from the Monastery, being to him most plentifull. All his life was onely employed in three things; the service of God; the time which he spent in his study and in conversations. In this course he was constant, never failing to be present at divine officer. To his studyaf­ter his private devotions he dedicated the morning which he begun alwaies before sun rising, but for the most part, he prevented the morning, untill the houre of common service. The afternoone time was divided either into operations by his owne hand, and transmutations and sublimations and such like, or into conversations with his friends that were learned, and other famous persons in Venice or else strangers that resorted thither.

The ordinary place of their meeting in Venice was at the shop of Sechim. And in Padua whither they often transported themselves, was the house of Vicenzo Pinelli, which was the receptacle of the Mu­ses, and an Academy of all the vertues in those times. And what an estimation Signor Pinelli had of the father the successe shall shew, whereof there are yet living testimonies which I know by name. The good Assilineo the french man before named, and the Signor Sechim. In the company of Signor Pinelli was oftentimes Monsieur Perrot a Frenchman, worthy [Page 54]of eternall fame for integrity, and the Signor Marmo Ghetaldi a most principall gentleman of Ragouse, whom I believe to be still alive, knowne of me both at Rome and at Venice, an Angell in his behaviour, and a devill (I understand this name onely in sci­ence) in the Mathematiques, His Apolomus redivivus, and other workes of his that are in print can easily testifie, that he hath either none or very few equalls. The father coming by accident to visite Pinelli, who at that time was prickt with a naile of the gout, and yet made a great shift to goe forth to receive him, as he did after, when he went away to beare him company; where at some that were present, ma­king it a wonder to see so much honor done to a Frier Ghetaldi desir'd to know who that man was, to whom such an extraordinary respect was exprest. To whom Pinelli made answer (I relate it in his owne words) il Miracolo de questo secolo, and Ghetaldi de­manding further in what profession, Pinelli an­swered him; In whatsoever you please. And obser­ving him to be entred into some admiration. He added futher; Signor, I know your excellency in the Mathematiques, let us make some tryall of him, Ile invite him with you to morrow to dinner, be you in a readinesse with some proposition of such a science, as you think may serve for a touchstone of tryall; and in the meane time study to be well pro­vided, and so you may be satisfied concerning his a­bilitie. I will be the proponent, and will seeme to understand nothing of you, till wee come to the washing of our hands, and accordingly the busines was carried. I could not attaine to know the par­ticular probleme or Theoreme, nor what it was [Page 55]that Ghetaldi brought into the field, but I am as­sur'd that at the discourse of the father; he was so much astonisht and confus'd, that he confest, he should never have believed, a man could have knowne so much in any profession; whereupon he desired to become his intimate friend, and to confer all his inventions with him, and so much of the Ma­thematiques as he hath since consecrated to immor­tality. And likewise the good Perrot tooke an af­fection to him, which continued till he past to a better life: which he willing to testifie in his last sicknesse, left him by his will his silver Ewre, with which he used to power water upon his hands. But the time was now come, when the purenesse of the gold should be tried by the touchstone. It pleased God, who guides those that are his, by toylesome wayes, that now he should be drawne out of the ha­ven of his rest, into the tempestuous seas of new troubles, which happened in this manner.

The favour of the Cardinall Santa Severina (Pro­tector of the order of the Servi) had at the instance of the Cardinall of Medici (who was afterward Leo the 10. & of Ferdinand great Duke of Tuscany) presented to be General, one master Lelio Baglioni a Florentine, a man truely of a great vivacity, being bold & learned, and more then all that, of an unblameable carriage, and when he preferred him to that dignitie, he dis­covered his intention to him, defiring him to coo­perate with him, that when he had finished his course in the office, master Gabriel might be his suc­cessor in the place. The generall (as it is usuall with all that obtaine such a dignity) to have two ends the one to continue in the charge as long as they [Page 56]can, and when they are necessitated to leave it, to make a successor of offer their owne choice) re­ceives the Cardinals declaration of himselfe into se­rious consideration, although secretly he was re­solv'd to traverse it by all the meanes he could possi­bly. And because the ordinary ones were too little purpose, as to say that he was a subject without ver­tue, without merit, without any learning, since the continuall presents and bribes, that Gabriel gave in the Cardinalls Court, and the favour with his ne­phew Paulus Emilius, and with the Cardinal himselfe did presently disperse those thinne clouds like a North me winde, and were so far from not sustayn­ing him, that they were more like to have Canoniz'd him; He tooke another course which was more vio­lent, to make it knowne in Court to the congrega­tion of reformation which was over the Regulars, and to the Pope himselfe, that master Gabriel was a vicious and facinorous man, culpable of great crimes. And he went yet further to divulge it a­broade in the Court, that whatsoever profit he could raise in making spies, in any lawes proceeding, in soliciting causes, or any thing else that was repre­hensible in another and much more in a man of Re­ligion, that pretended to a Generallship, the pro­fits of which practise were all brought home to the Protectors Court. This divided the poore religion of the Servi into two factions, the heads of which were, on the one side master Gabriel among the fry­ers, and the Cardinall abroade, who being impru­dently interessed (by Lelius) carried himselfe with more passion, then any of the Fryers; and of the o­ther side the Generall with his abbettors, who wan­ted [Page 57]not his seconds, being like quicksilver, and ne­ver failing to publish all occurrents, as well in the Courts of the Cardinalls, as of the Pope himselfe: amplifying the extorsions that were brought into the Cardinalls Court; and in particular complay­ning, that the Protector had taken all the authori­ty from the Generall, to the end that favour and Justice might onely be expected from master Gabri­el, who made them venall to furnish the Court with presents. A thing that made the Cardinall starke madde, by reason of an humour then raging under Clement the eighth who had made so many bulls Contra munerum largitiones, which is a mischiefe in Court like judicial astrologie, whereof Tacitus saith, Semper vetabitur & semper retinebitur (Factions in Religions being a disease of humanity, are not so easily shakt off by entring into Cloisters, but that it happens many times, that under the titles of frater­nities, many mischiefes are concealed.) The Bian­chi and Neri, the Guelphes and Gibelines had not been so fierce against each other, but that by a necessity they were linkt so neere together in their Citties, in their houses, & in the same geniall beds. And among the Regulars they have got a custome (which was used in Sparta) that both parts first make warre a­gainst their neutralls. The innocent father had enjoyed a vertuous quietnesse, and had opposed these differences as long as he was able, but it was necessary for him now to declare himselfe of one side. And being no longer with his honour, and by his former declarations, to approve of the extorsi­ons and rapines which master Gabriel had used to supply his bribes at Rome, became presently united [Page 58]in interest with the Generall; And although it were his chiefe desire, either to have have sweetned the bitternesse, or reduc't things to civill termes, which in order of Religion are said to be done by votes, & suffrages: yet he could never bring that to passe. For now master Gabriel resolved to accuse him of criminalities, making it a matter against him in the Inquisition at Rome, that he had held commerce with the Hebrewes, and to foment the quarrell the more, he drew out the letter (which wee told you of before,) with the counter cypher, and stirred up a nephew of his at Venice to doe as much against him there as was done at Rome, making this his ground, that they being on a time upon dis­course of compounding differences, the nephew should make answer that he believed the faction of his uncles part was much the superiour, because at their Chapter they had an expectation to be in­spired by the holy Ghost; and that thereupon the fa­ther should replie, that it was fitter to operate by humane meanes upon this Maestro Santo (for so was he called) accused him to the holy office at Venice, that he had denied the assistance of the holy ghost.

But that Tribunall having examined testi­monies that were present at the treaty, thought it no Justice, so much as to call the father to his answer, but extinguisht the action without speaking a word more of it. But at Rome that point of the letter with the Cypher brought the father into a very ill opini­on, that he was an enemy to their greatnesse, but in secret, they neither durst nor could tell, how to frame any thing against him upon judgment of reli­gion. I have heard some say at sundry times, I know [Page 59]not whether I should cal him ignorant or malignant, that represented it as an irrefragable argument against the integrity of the father, that he had beene thrice denounced to the holy office of the Inquisiti­on; in his youth by Master Claudio da Piacenza, and in his riper age by master Gabriel, for that letter in Cypher against the Court, and this last time by Ma­estro Santo his nephew: as if to be denounced were so great a marke upon him. And truly, if the doctrine of faith or religion had beene in question, it had beene capable of no excuse. But to this opposition, and to these men that consider not so much the end of judgment as the beginning of a trouble; Let them take their answer from Padre Maffeo a Jesuit, who tells us in the life of Father Ignatius (now canonized for a saint) that he was nine times put into the in­quisition, (if I erre not in the number) but with this difference, that the Saint was called, examined and absolved, and this father of ours three onely times, but never called nor examined. And then let 'em tell me, what strength is in that argument of theirs that it should follow, either that the father was not right, or that the Magistrate was not just in receiving such accusations. But concerning his com­munication with heretiques, although nothing was proved, yet it tooke a very great impression in Cle­ment the eight, who remembred it against him a good while after. In so much that the father being proposed to the Bishopricke of Nova, although the Pope confest him to be a man of learning, and of great capacity, yet he added that he deserved no preferment from the Church, for the practises that he had held with heretiques. All which had no [Page 60]other foundation but this, that the Citty of Venice being so great, that it drew from all parts of the world, no tonely by reason of the businesse of Mer­chandice, but also such men as have any relish of things that are curious, and fit for admirati­on.

And the father being there at that time in a re­putation of one of the most learned men in the world, the professors of sciences that came not onely from Italy, but from other regions, and chiefely the greater personages, that esteemed it a thing wor­thy of their travell, to see and hold discourse in matter of learning, with one that in all professions, was not only able to give them satisfaction, but to send them away with wonder, & he that knew not onely termes of humanity and civility, but the most strict Canonicall rules oblige not to avoid the company of any, except he be by name and indivi­dually condemned by the Church; He without any further scruple thought all sorts of strangers wor­thy of his vertuous conversation. Sometimes he came into company by command, as when Moun­sieur D'eureux afterward Cardinall Peron came to Ro. where he had the first time unsuccesfully treated the reconciliation of Henry the fourth, and Perron passing by Venice, there were deputed to beare him company, the most illustrious Linigi Lollino, after Bishop Bellano, Peerlesse in humanity and the Greeke tongue, and the father also spent many dayes with him, and almost alwaies in discourse either of state matters or of learning. And this great braine of whom it is reported that he should say that in Italy it is well knowne that in Padova in the house [Page 61]of Vincenzo Pinelli and upon other occasions he found few persons of notable learning, he celebrated the father for a transcendent wit. And it was upon the same occasion that Lollino, and the father, fall­ing into commendation of the great knowledge of that Prelate, and his extreame wisdome in dispu­ting, and confounding those whom he disputed with, especially in religion, he told them againe in modest language, that he had not onely found the Hugonets in France without learning or know­ledge especially in the old fathers in councels and Historians, but he had likewise found them Cho­lericke and impatient; whereupon besides matter of doctrine, whensoever he disputed with any of them, his chiefe ayme was by some picquant words or ar­gutenesse to put them into choler (and that being done, he was assured to carry the victory. And truly that elevated spirit of his had that naturall aptitude and inclination (observing alwaies in his disputa­tions about religions tenents that are in print) an argute manner of disputing and extreamely provo­cative. Occasions of this kinde were very frequent. But passion, and ignorance (which in this age) have rendred Religion like the Dye of factions, and the desire of envious people to give intelligence at Rome thereby to appeare more zealous then other men. So soone as they saw any man appeare to visite the father, that was uttred all, Oltramontana, like a German or a Frenchman, immediatly they con­cluded him to be an heretique, like a fellow that denounc't his preacher to the holy office, because forsooth having cited the prophet Habacuc, he said he knew him to be a Lutheran, because of pronoun­cing [Page 62]the best syllable cuch. But divine providence by such gradations as these, began to inure her servant to the injurious calumnis of that government, which in the progresse of his life for being a faithfull ser­vant to the divine Majestie, to his Prince, and to the holy church, were prepared by an higher hand for the tryall of his unconquered, and constant piety, and for proofe of an heroick patience.

The domestique turbulencies endured many yeares with an implacable ardour on both sides, wherein the father had occasion enough to shew his moderation in restrayning the violence of his ad­herence, his mildnesse in never giving offence to a­ny body (although himselfe offended) the even­nesse & serenity of his soule that never lost himselfe upon any wretched successe, nor tooke pride or too much confidence by any thing that fell prosperous, as of necessity it happens with others after long con­tentions, although they be but businesse of facti­ons. His singular prudence in redressing what­soever was in his power for accommodation, but a­bove all the sweetnesse of an incomparable minde which was never seene to be angry, nor ever to resent anger by any expression of words. And yet with all this, His vertue was not accompanied with fortune, because he neither satisfied those of his owne side, nor the Generall with whom he was united, nor yet the Cardinall Protector. Those of his part in the faction that carried themselves with more affection then prudence, accused him of coldnesse, and that he behav'd himselfe, as if it concern'd him not to the quick (as who should say) that their levity should disturbe the quietnesse of his [Page 63]minde which was so well composed, and so much Superior to their destructions. The Generall who was ardent in his nature, whensoever any new dif­ficultie or controversie was set on foote, used to make himselfe merry with it, and was wont to say. Mi chiamovo al mio givoco. Now they call me to mine owne game. But he could have wisht that the father had not stood so much upon the sole defen­sive part, observing the advantages of the time, and ever throwing out words that tended to pacificati­on, and setling the commotion. They would have had him pursue all routs, and engage himselfe into every cause by vehement affections, and by resenting effects. But the Cardinall, who was secure that the Generalls overthrow would be the victory of his cause, attributed all the directions and managings to proceede from the fathers counsels, which his owne businesse would not give him leave to traverse.

This dissention continued till the yeare 1597, at which time though it were not quencht, yet it had some abatement, wherein the father alone obtayn'd his end, though not entirely what he aymed at; concerning the pacification of his province, but by a diversion or sport of divine providence (which is no lesse active in things that we valew least, then in the greatest) there appeared demonstration of the vanity of humane designes, and therefore to that purpose, this digression of ours may not seeme un­necessary.

A Fryer, one Giovanni Battista, perugino who was surnamed Il Lagrimino (whether it were because he had teares at command) but being a mixt and cun­ning man (and flying from the punishment which [Page 64]the Generall was ready to inflict upon him for some delinquencies) came to Venice, where the largnesse of that Citty, and the commodities of concealment make many of that sort bold to make their refuge. But this fellow had no neede to hide himselfe, be­cause the very flying from the Generall was enough to bid him welcome to the Provinciall, which was master Gabriel. But to get a living and subsistance he procured a licence from the Nuntio, and begun to play the exorcist, as I have seene many of that run-a­way race (who not able to live in obedience) would give a leape into such a compendious way of life, to enjoy their pleasure, and suddenly to raise a pre­sent fortune. (Because though it be certaine that sometimes God permits to come upon humane crea­tures, the vexations of evill spirits: yet it stands as consonant to reason, and to the harmony of our faith, that he does it but seldome, and upon very great causes.) But when those exorcists come upon the Piarras, they are presently filled with the sud­daine and violent motions of the matricall hu­mours, nay that all the infirmities which they have contracted, either from a licentious life, or by com­munication with their husbands, that they proceede either from ill encounters or of witchcraft. And of the other side the exorcists faile not to play their pranks, who having given a blessing to their violent medicaments, and by sleight of hand made some pretty shew of art, cause their patients to throw out of their stomacks, that which never came there, nor could be contained therein. But it is a pretty observation, that to heale the greatest part of these diseases, the true remedy is contrary to all other [Page 65]cures, which is to drive away their Physitians, whereas upon the appearance of any of these moun­tebancke Physitians, there comes abroad a world of conceald & unknowne infirmities, which no bo­dy ever understood. Our Lagrimino among other of his undertakings, had the cure of a trades mans wife at the signe of the cocke, in the Mercery, whose name was Deffendi. And as it happens very often, that practise is prolonged beyond hope or expectation. The Fryer besides his exorcismes in the Church, came often home to her house to visit her, & the dance was not quite done before the husband began to take notice that many things in his shop were missing, as such a quantity of Satten, and some other stuffe of valew; that he was almost ready to turne banckrupt. Hereupon he caused his apprentice to be arrested, who being examined confessed, That the Frier with his wives knowledge had carried them out of the house, and upon further examination, confest, that a great part was conveyed to Master Gabriel, and no small part to the Court of the Popes Nuncio. So the mystery was unfolded, although the Generall had e­nough to doe to be believed.

That Lagrimino was an Apostata, and fit to be imprisoned, for neither the Provinciall, nor the Nuncio would heare him, but cried him downe, for a persequtour. The trades man (that still lives) con­sidering no further but that he was a Frier of the Servi, made his complaint to some other of that Fra­ternity, telling them the businesse, which after was so managed, that a coppie of the processe was taken forth, and sent to Rome to the Generall, where it happened at the same time that master Gabriel was [Page 66]present. The Generall carried the cause, and the processe before the Governour of Rome, who per­ceiving the knavery, and ignorant how much favour Gabriel had then at Court without any further con­sideration committed him to prison. I doe not be­lieve that in his life time the Cardinal Sancta Severina ever shewed himselfe to be a man, nor discovered so much passion, and weaknesse; (for great ones are but men and subject to the same passions with those of the lowest people) He stampt, he cryed, he curst, he walkt betweene the Pope and the Governour, and for all he could doe, he could not enlarge the priso­ner for many daies after. Because Lagrimino that was gone into Ʋmbria had beene imprisoned at Rome, and being confronted, had sustained the things mentioned. And though after he were made recant by charging it upon the Generall, and so set free, yet neverthelesse he disappear'd and vanisht out of the world (though not like Enoch) By this time the Cardinall saw that it was not possible to create master Gabriel his Generall at a chapter that was then called at Rome, but yet he was able to put him that was Generall under judgment, and to that purpose kept him in the prison of Santa Maria in via & particularly because Lagrimino had accused him, to be suborned; and by the Cardinalls order there were committed many exorbitances and violences in the order under certaine pretences, both with cause and without cause employing the officers of the Inqui­sition so far, that except to those that had seene them the things were beyond beliefe.

During these passages, there being a provinciall chapter at Venice to be celebrated in Vicenza, he [Page 67]created president by a writ from the Pope, the Bi­shop of that Citty Michel Priuli a man of great sence and prudence, who perceiving of one side the dis­position of the Fryars, and on the other side the Cardinalls commands, knew not which side he should adhere to; And seeing the spirits of the facti­ons inflamed, he was perswaded by those of the Car­dinalls faction to consent to an innovation, which was never tryed before, and that was to move the Rectors to admit some sergeants and other officers into the Monastery to prevent disorder, but really intended to intimidate (if not use violence) upon the other partie. But this made things worse, then formerly before, making the parties more obstinate. And prolonging the Chapter to eight daies length, which had wont to be determined in a few houres. And these serjeants seeing all things setled in quiet­nesse, and about eight Friers without armes (so much as their knives,) they laid downe their gunns, and left their armes carelesly upon certaine tables, that stood in the Cloisters, and the souldiers without further thought of any thing either stood still, or went into the cellars to drinke, or into the storehouse, or forth into the Mount to sport them­selves. In the meane time the Friers fretted, and knaw'd the chaine to see such a company of idle fel­lowes without any imployment, a thing never done before, and so scandalous to religion, to see them consume those provisions which ought to be the aliment of the convent. And their spirits were the more imbittered by the provoking language of those that gave it out that they that did not render themselves shortly to the Cardinalls order, should [Page 68]either be throwne in prison, or sent to the gallies, or be otherwise disposed of like dogges. And the last stroke which was like to end the businesse was, that one evening there came from Vicenza to this Monastery of the mount (where the Chapter sate) the Bishop with another briefe from his holinesse (besides that of his Presidentship) which was sent from Rome to Vicenza in lesse then fortie houres, giving order that the president might have power to expell the Generall vicar out of the Chap­ter, beside a most ample authority to suspend, transfer or prolong the Chapter, and whatsoever he should thinke fit. Whereat some of the wiser sort rather laught, then wondred, to see that in a capi­tular action being a thing of so small moment, there should be sent forth two apostolicall briefes. And the Pope himselfe enter into the Comedy after so great a Cardinall with the authoritie of the two Saints Sanctorum Petri & Pauli, which was accor­ding to the adage Magno conatu nugas agere. That faction to which so much favour was exprest, was added into the Bishops traine, entring into the mo­nastery in a tumultuous way, with much noise, and to solemnize their triumph the more, they caused to be carried two naked swords before them, with certaine acclamations which had beene more con­venient for plebeians, then religious men. This oc­casioned so great an alteration, that immediately a crue of young fellowes brought that very night (the dore being set open) into the Fryers cham­bers with great silence, a number of those brave Ʋi­centines with whom they had intelligence, and were resolved the next morning when the Bishop [Page 69]and the chapter were met (which was alwaies in the refectory) and serjeants having left their guns carelessly (as they used to doe) to fall upon them, and take such a revenge as their anger, and the me­mory of such injuries should suggest.

Yet they lingred a while till they could speake with one that might give notice of their designe to Padre Paulo. But it is a very hard matter that a thing knowne to so many, should be conceal'd; wherefore he among others having had an inckling of the bu­sinesse, it is most certaine that with much labour and waking a great part of the night, by entreating some, and commanding others, and giving a cleare understanding to all, of the danger they should bring upon themselves, of the slight consequence of the things in question, and the scandall that might arise. But above any thing else the venerall esteeme that they had of his authority was potent meanes to suppresse the conspiracy. Yet he saw well that it was a matter of necessity to put an end to those dis­cords, which were no longer to be contained with­in the confines of voting, but would be sure to rise into higher termes. And because that being once admitted for a president, and so horrid a resoluti­on setled, it would be an incouragement to others to attempt the like. There is not in matters of go­vernment a more secure restraint then to know what mighty mischiefes are possible to ensue, where­fore the father was resolv'd to doe his uttermost endeavour to compose the divisions which he could not doe so well, as by making a journey in person to Rome. But the matter of the aforesaid letter in Cypher, and that of his communication with here­tiques [Page 70]was a great discouragement to his going. Be­cause (although he might well discerne an insubsi­stence, & that the Cardinall Protector was not much incens't by any instances against him upon those ac­cusations; although he sent other causes of very light valew, to the Inquisitors against Fryers and others (& as soone againe took them off, as the mat­ter of voting in the Chapter house was past) which for the most part was one of the chiefe ends of those practises of his, neverthelesse, the father tooke into consideration, what the displeasure of so great a man might doe, that had the power of judgment in his hands, as Santa Severina (being head of the Congegation of the holy office) had. And that in Rome it was well knowne how neare he was after Clement in election to the Papacy, and the question was not onely extinct, whether that election of Cle­ment were valid or not. Wherefore Clement was willing to feed the Cardinals humour by giving him leave to doe what he lifted, besides that he was truly a great personage, and very active, and able to bring any businesse to what end he pleas'd, as it is an eafie matter for great men to serve themselves upon any pretence, to justifie every thing after it is done. So he consulted with his intimate friends up­on that point, whose opinion was, that he could receive no great damage, especially, since by a great number of the Cardinals letters which are yet in be­ing (and I have seene them when I intended to make this life like an epistolary history, and to have prduced the letters for a confirmation of what I had written, if the length and mul­titude [Page 71]had not disswaded me) it appeard, that he had a great opinion of the fathers integrity, and prudence, and that he had desired to see him at Rome, and to have interessed him in that Court. But the father facetiously remembred the fable how the prudent Fox, when the Lyon made proclama­tion for all horned beasts to come in) hid himselfe saying, what if the lyon would have his eares to be hornes, who should be able to defend him? yet notwithstanding he was resolved to goe. But as it was his manner to be as confident in the divine pro­vidence, as if second causes had not beene considera­ble, & yet omitting no fit meanes where second cau­ses might be the producers of their effects; And first of all he got good letters from his friends to the Ambassadors of Venice at Rome, and to divers great Prelates at Court; Then by letters he made knowne the whole businesse, to the Cardinall of Ascoli (for he was likewise of the congregation of the holy office) with whom he had alwaies continued his servitude by a commerce of letters, and from him he was advised to come. At Rome there was a generall Chapter celebrated, wherein the Cardinall not being able to make master Gabriel his Gene­nerall: he called from Florence a father that had beene fifteene yeares shut up in his chamber in a holy life, but yet with him neither, he was not very well pleased, be cause whether for zeale of conscience, or for any other respect, I know not, but he also extreamely abhor'd to consent that Gabriel should succeed him: and loved and honored the father as much as was possible, (although against the orders which he said, had beene given him,) and offen­ded [Page 72]the Cardinall in a very high degree, by writing him a very long letter, in an apologetique way, blaming him for all his mischiefes that had happen­ed in religion, and for using such violent waies to make a wicked wretch his Generall; touching, with­out any respect, upon the briberies and guifts that were brought to his Court, by the sale of al pre­ferments, and graces, and by the pillage and rob­bing of Convents. But that which cut him to the quicke, was, that he affirmed that he had written unto him not onely after a long consideration; but with particular inspiration of the Holy Ghost.

At the reading whereof the Cardinall broke out into passion and cried out, Tu menti santarieto Caca­mienda, for he had alwayes kept a tang of the Neapo­litan Dialect. But this poore Generall was called to Rome where in a very short time he ended his life. It was said to be of a heate which he gave himselfe by walking about the seaven Churches, and there are some that said it was by some cost that was be­stowed upon him. But his death gave a great scan­dall to all religion, because (as tis already said) he had lived fifteene yeares shut up in his cell at a holy life, where by pontificall indulgence he celebrated the masse, and every wednesday expounded upon his altar the holy sacrament, before which he continued praying til the friday following without tasting any foode, and his diet was alwaies lenten fare, and for the most part bread and fruite and water. In which life he continued for matter of abstinence after his coming to his charge, & he was esteemed a Santo; and as of such a one is his life written and printed. His very enemies reported him to be a man of holy in­tentions, [Page 73]though not so able for government. But the blame which fell upon the Cardinall for putting him under censure cannot be exprest.

The father treated with the Cardinall and sought alwaies to please him, because, that being done all other things were determined. And it fell out ex­traordinary well for him, because they had no speech of any other matter, but onely these two. The one that he had adhaered to, and fomented the late tumults, or rather stir'd up the Generall, the other, that he would not be friends with Master Ga­briel.

To which he answered, that he would remit the whole businesse to his Lordship, & was desired to be reconcil'd to him: To the particulars he an­swered more at length. That by his Lordships pow­er and favour he had seene Master Laeli [...] made Proct­or Generall; and after that vicar generall Aposto­licall, and subsequently Generall, and that he had desired the friendship of Laelio as of one of his Lord­ships creatures, and had corresponded with him in all things which he thought might concerne the service of God and religion. And that it was his dutie to honor that man whom he saw raised above others, without any curious investigations of the reasons why it was done. That if things grew after to be changed, he conceived that to be an accident of a fortune. And thereupon he put him in minde of letter, which when Laelio was created Generall his Lordship had written with his owne hand, whereby he recommended him unto him, that by his vote, and the votes of friends he might be prefer­red before any other of his concurrents, so that he [Page 74]could not interpret such a recommendation for lesse then a command. For of such a nature he said were the requests of persons that were eminent. And as to that of having stirred up the Generall, his eminency having by his publique letters to all the Religion (directed to the Chapters of Provinces) made great complaint of the impetuous and violent nature of Lelio, he was sure his Lordship had not that conceipt against him of himselfe, but by the suggestion and false relation of some others, whereto hee would at all times be ready to make answer in his owne ex­cuse, onely referr'd it to his prudence which was a­ble to penetrate that and greater matters, nor was it like, that seeing a coach runne swiftly by, he would make it a doubt, whether the coach drew the horses, or they it. He insinuated moreover that foure yeares before that 1593 in the vacancy of the Bishopricke of Milopotamo, his Lordship had begg'd it for him of his Holinesse, and in a letter written to him there­upon, and exhorting him to dispose himselfe to receive it, when it should be conferred upon him; He added that in a second place he had named him to another in event of his not accepting that, because he was not sure of his intentions being so retired a man, and alienate from every thing else but a totall immersion in his studies, and a lover of a quiet life. All which letters he had kept together, as the titles of his obligation to his illustrious Lordship. Here­upon the Cardinall gave great testimony of good satisfaction, and replied; that truly having taken notice of his deportments, hee beleeved no other­wise, and told him further that he would have him and Master Gabriel made friends, as also by the Pro­tectors power it was effected.

[Page 75] He returned to Ʋenice to his beloved retirednesse, and not without some grievance of his naturall in­disposition imbittered by his voyage and other suf­ferings. And though there might continue with him (as we use to say) a little of the old sea of his turbu­lent fortunes, yet he moderated them all with an incomparable patience and prudence. And it seemed that for a few yeares after his infirmities made their peace with him, which the space of 25 yeares before had yeelded him but short and uncertaine truces of his Epaticke flux, he remained cured, without any other cause, but that it had spent the Course. Hee had from time to time used divers remedies aswell by the great knowledge which he had in medicine, as also by the opinions of the most conspicuous and famous Physitians, with whom he had great famili­arity both in Ʋenice and Padua, and for the falling of the straight gutt (which in time and with increase of age might render him unable for any action, and fixe him if not to his bed at least to his chamber,) He had continually proved many remedies without profit; after he gave himselfe to seeke out some in­strument to keepe it up, and having tried many, he found one at last so proper and fit, that with it alone he was able to carry his disease to the last day of his life without hindrance from any action, more then if he had not had the disease, and it is of so easie and ready a use, that having imparted it to others, it hath had the same effect with them, by keeping them in ability of motion and action; without which they must have remained in great paine and difficul­ty. This quietnesse continued about sixe yeares more, his life being all the while imployed in divine [Page 76]office, (wherin as twas said) he spent all his time, and in the conversation of virtuosos without the least hindrance.

From some notes that were found and are yet ex­tant, it appeares about that time that hee chang'd the quality of his studies, and gave himselfe altoge­ther (besides the Ecclesiasticall and prophane sto­ries) to the studie of Morall Philosophie, peradven­ture that which is written of Socrates, is no singu­lar act, or rather voluntary, but is as it were natu­rall to all those understandings that have any thing oftranscendent, who after they have made a disco­very at what they can arrive upon universalities, they transport themselves totally to morality;) which studie (as to inferiour things) is the onely specula­tion of humanity. This ariseth either from a de­fire made more intense to better it selfe, or from some incomprehensibilitie that is met with; or from a solid judgement of the vanitie even of Sciences, and of the excellencies of vertue, or the singularitie of that part of Metaphysick, whose object is intelli­gence, and the meanes thereof, and of humane acti­ons that either are internall or from others.

It is most certaine that Father Paul applyed him­selfe to such kinde of studies, having before that ex­amined all the workes of Aristotle and of Plato, with little notes of his owne extant from one part to a­nother upon the one, and from Dialogue to Dia­logue on the other, but so short, and for the most part writing onely the first letter of a word, that one may easily perceive that either he wrote to him­selfe alone for rememoratives, or else that in his age he designed matter from some further worke. But [Page 77]I doe rather beleeve the first, because he never pro­mised himselfe a yeares life, as hee would alwaies constantly affirme.

He had examined the Doctrine of all the antient Philosophers of all sorts, so farre as there remaines any mention or memory disperst among writers, and given his judgement upon them. Hee had also examined the opinions of Schoolemen aswell of the reall as the nominall, which he made much account of, as appeares by some other short notes of his. The Mathematiques of all sorts, the medicinall, the ana­tomicall, the simples, the minerals, the mechaniques and of all the qualities, upon which his notes (as a­foresaid) yet remaine, whereof that little that is in­telligible is verypretious, and shewes what rules were hidden in the Mine of that rare understanding. There are yet letters of some very learned men of his time, wherein it appeares that they sought to re­ceive his opinion in some of the most arduous things of Sciences, and particularly of the Mathe­matiques, and when any of them had either obser­ved or invented any new or strange thing, they pre­sently sought to have his judgement upon it. Oh the great losse, that we cannot see his answers. I have seene a certaine discourse which was sent him from one Marioti, who in many chapters treates of the ebbing and flowing, which it seemes the father approved not of, by a coppie of a letter of his owne wherein he tells him, that he sends him what he un­derstood, and had observed about the motion of the waters. I deplore the losse of his letters, and the misfortune of men therein, that from time to time there should be any losse of that which hath beene [Page 78]found out by great witts. What a misfortune is it to us that in History it should bee necessary to begin from Herodotus, and all that was before to bee no­thing but fables and confusion. (In this account we ranck not the sacred story of the Bible which was Gods guift, and no humane industry.) In Astrolo­gie and Geographie to begin from Ptolomy, in the Mathematiques from Euclide, and all the remainder (that is) the worke of so rare and excellent spirits whose names are scarce in memory, should be peri­shed. The losse of what the father wrote concerning the moving of the waters, drawes from my pen the deploration of a misfortune which I perswade my selfe if it had beene extant, had beene like foode to the mindes of so great understandings, which have beene famish't without so much as hope of encoun­tring any thing that might at least in appeareance give fat is faction upon that subject.

But in those following yeares whereof we speake, He seemed to be wholy engaged to that sort of study which is onely verst in weeding out the vices of the minde, and planting and cultivating it with vertues. And upon this subject he hath written so many little treatises, which he used to carry about him with sen­tences and documents aswell of the most ancient celebrated writers, as of his owne, that if ever they came to light it will shew a collection of precious jewels of inestimable value. Three things I have only seene, elaborate after the manner of Plutarkes little works. On the medicine of the minde, wherein applying the Aphorismes which are written for the health and cure of the body to the cure and sanity of the minde which he limits (as it seemes) to maladies [Page 79]that are only in state and not in motion, or in free­dome from paine (whereat a man in this life can ne­ver arrive) onely he directs many singular meanes to obtaine a tranquillity. Another little treatise of the rising and ceasing of opinions in us. And the last that Atheisme is repugnant to humane nature, and is not found therein, but that they which acknowledge not a true Deity, must necessarily faine themselves false ones. There also two little bookes which goe together like a Metaphysick, but imperfect and full of new and abstruse sences. There is also a short examen of his owne defects whereunto hee had pro­posed a cure, and this was fit to fal into the hands of those who after his death like doggs that draw dry­foot have not left the least by-way untraced to finde out some odours of imperfection: and here they might have seene a man that never flatter'd himselfe, but made a reall scurtiny unto the most recluded corners of his owne heart, and both saw, and censu­red in himselfe those things which to every other eye had beene invisible. And those that in the rest of his life for more then 20. yeares had lived inti­mately with him doe most holily attest, that they were never able to observe any such defects in him. Because peradventure in those sixe yeares of his mor­rall studies, hee had regulated himselfe like those true possessors of wisedome, who studie not so much to seeme learned as to be truely and really good.

But all this was nothing, compar'd to his beeing affixt to the divine Scripture, particularly of the new Testament, without any expofitor except onely the Greeke and Latine texts which hee used toreade from one end to the other, repeating it over so ma­ny [Page 80]times that hee had it all in memory, and upon occasion was able to repeate it all in the same man­ner, as by daily frequency religious men use to re­cite the ordinary Psalmes. His attention was so in­tire and profound, that as in reading hee observed any point for meditation, hee made in his Greeke testament upon the word or verse a little line after this manner — And so by reading it over againe there was scarce a line or almost a word which had not a marke upon it, whereof a great Prince having heard after his death, did for curio­sities desire to see the booke, wee have also seene the very same course formerly used upon the old Testament, as also his breviary wherein he recited the office markt all (as aforesaid) but especially upon the psalmes which he knew all by heart, as also whatsoever was to be said in celebration of the mass, whereof this is a sufficient demonstration that in his last yeares he could not see, nor reade any word that was either written or printed without his spectacles, and yet without them he did alwaies use to celebrate the masse.

I could not learne whether in these six years he had borrowed from his assiduity & immersion in his stu­dies more then two deviations. The one was that Le­onardo Mocenigo being created Bishop of Caveda, who was one of those that many times (though not so often as others) frequented that glorius meeting of so many famous personages (the rendezvous of Mo­rosini) was desirous first to be instructed by the fa­ther in the profession Canonicall, and in whatsoever else (besides his owne learning) was convenient for his new Episcopall calling, and afterwards [Page 81]to have his company along with him to Ferrara, where the Pope Clement the eight was then abiding, and where he was to be examined and consecrated. The other was that famous controversie which (by the power of the Dominican and Jesuiticall facti­on,) remaines still undecided. Of the efficacy of divine grace called de auxiliis, whereof there hath beene so much said, and so much written. In con­templation of which difference, The Bishop of Montepeloso who was before that his intrinsecall friend by the name of Maestro Hippolito da Lucca, a a man of much scholasticall learning, but of a grea­ter fame for goodnesse. This man had read Theolo­gie many yeares in the study & university of Ferra­ra, and was also confessor to Madame the Dutchesse of Ʋrbin, and a very confident servant of hers, when Alfonso the last Duke of Ferrara died. That Princesse was in an ill repute with many of the bet­ter sort, that she had beene unfaithfull in the pro­curing of some advantage to Caesar of Este. And this father himselfe either for truth or for some neare respect of service to the Princesse, was also in a fini­ster fame, to have either in confession, or some other discourse (being himselfe corrupted) by large promises, and great hopes, perswaded the Dut­chesse to adhaere to the Eclesiasticall faction. So it is; that he had (not long after) a slight recompence from Cardinall Aldobrandine of the said small Bishopricke in the kingdome of Naples, but he was alwaies entertayned at Rome, and deputed for one of those Prelates to examine the said controversie. And he, to whom the fathers great learning was so well knowne, procured by letters, and by his utmost [Page 82]power to make him come to Rome with large pro­mises. After seeing him resolute not to open his mouth in those windie and swolne differences, went about to induce him by friendship to review the matter, and by letters communicated his sence to him. But this imployment was not worth the name of a deviation, he having formerly most ex­actly read and studied all the ancient fathers, and had in them a singular practise, but especially in Saint Augustine, in whom the doctrine of that point is more fully handled then in all the rest (And it may truly be said, that the two tomes, the sixt and seaventh besides the tenth have no other scope) and those were so familiar to him, that a place could not be sooner toucht, but his hand was as ready to be laid upon it, and in hearing it alledged, was able to say whether it were faithfully reported, and was able to recite both the antecedent and sub­sequent words. In all his writings there was nothing found of his in memory of that businesse, but onely some responfive letters of the said Bishops, where­by it appeared the father had written oft unto him of that businesse, and of things whereby the prelate receiving a great deale of honor, did alwaies move and urge the fathers coming to Rome, but in vaine. He was, as it could be gathered out of those letters, of the opinion of Saint Thomas, to which he added the names of Saint Paul and Saint Augustine, against the ancient and moderne Pelagians and Se­mipelagians. There is onely extant a short writing to this purpose, in which it appeares that at the in­stance of a Prince he had explicated the state of that controversie in Italian, and what were the opinions [Page 83]of the controversies with their explications and principall foundation. A short worke but which it shewes the lucidnesse of that minde and his felicity in explicating the most arduous things.

At the end of the said six yeares, or not long after, there were two occasions out of which (it was believed) there sprung another disturbance; because upon the death of the Generall, which was master Gabriel, who was created 1603 (being fifteene yeares later then the foundation of the designe of that creation was at first laid) there was supplyed to that government a nephew of his by the name of Maestro Santo with onely the bare title of Definitor, who having his uncles hopes, though not his power, and especially failing in that aptitude of his to serve the Court at all assaies (which the General was all­waies wont to do: to whom after his death therewere letters found that Cardinall Aldobrandino had writ with his owne hand, and Borghese both nephewes to Popes, wherein it was seene that at Venice he had beene a servant to the Court) in things that might either have cost him his life, or else advanc't him to a greater Prelacy. Maestro Santo imitated his uncle in this opinion, that if he would domineere over the province, it was necessary to remove that mote out of his eye, which was the veneration and honor wherewith the father was followed. And to this purpose he attempted many exorbitant things, among which there was one that was most ridicu­lous. It is a custome when Chapters are called toge­gether, that those that have votes make a scrutiny among themselves to legitimate their Capitular actions. And that it might be without exception [Page 84]every one reserves himselfe a fredome to question or oppose whom or whatsoever he thinke good. So Maestro Santo, and Maestro Arcangelo stood up, and to doe nothing with much diligence, and with power to make a conspicuous buffonery; they op­pos'd three heads of exception or reproach against father Paul, with the indignation and derision of all the Chapter, and they were these. That he wore a hat upon his head contrarie to a forme that had beene lately published under Gregory the fourteenth. That he wore pantables that were hollowed in the soles of the French fashion (alledging falsly) that it had beene decreed otherwise upon paine of depriva­tion of their votes. That at the end of Masse he did not use to repeate the Salve Regina. Things that were no sooner heard then resolved by the Vicar ge­nerall, the President and the Provinciall into no­thing, and exploded by all the assembly, being rejected and kickt out. And because his pantobles were taken off by order from the Judge, and caried to the Tribunall, it became a proverbe which is yet in use. Esser il Padre Paolo cosi incolpabile & integro ebe sivio le sue pianisse erano state canonizate. The father Paul is so blameles and pure that his very pantobler were canoniz'd. That his not reciting the Salve Re­gina arose not out of any indevotion.

It would be too long to deliver the ground or reason inducing him not to doe it. True it is that he had reasons so well grounded, that it was more lawfully omitted by him at that time, then it was added by others, against the rights of the masse, and derogating by a particular decree of about 30 Friers from the universall order of the Church.

[Page 85] It was observed that in all that action of propo­sing, examining and exploding those exceptions, he never spake word, nor shew'd the least signe of be­ing affected with it: but went on upon occasion of discourse, and as he had used to doe with those his accusers, and in specie with Maestro Santo, who had forgotten his uncles documents, which at his death he left with him; (viz.) That he should never at­tempt any great thing in the province without the opinion of father Paul. So not taking counsell where he should have done, and being too confident of his uncles merits with the Court, and lastly puft up with vaine hopes from a certaine Abbot, who was an impostor, (and is yet living) who sold him those hopes at the price of a good silver goblet, He trust up his baggage, and carried with him to Rome whatsoever he could get, being about five hundred duckats which belong'd to the Monastery which he there spent in foure monthes; And where­as he went thither full of great hopes, he returned againe ful of maltalent, and desperation, which sent him into Candy to raise a fortune in merchandise, where not long after he left his life, having first lost and spent what he had.

By this time (wee may say) that the fathers quiet studies and his private life were come to their period, and that from hence till the end of his life, he entred upon another world; or rather came into the world, wherein it pleased God to call him into employments, which he had never thought he should have applied himselfe to.

But man is not borne alone for himselfe, but principally for his Countrey and for a common [Page 86]good. That probleme whether a wise man ought to apply himselfe to government? let others dispute. This father of ours shall give us an example to refuse no paines nor peril for the service of God; and of his Countrey. And that an honest and wise man is far from that erroneous doctrine, invented by a com­pany of seditious coseners, who never speake of se­cular policy but with disparagement, although it were instituted of God, and in which an honest man may serve his divine majestie with a vocation as pious, as excellent, and that no other employment can either exceede it or match it, as well for the common good, as in obedience to that supreme piety which may be exercised in the Church, and whereunto God from time to time, and since the very birth of the Church, hath called even the greatest Heroes of all the ecclesiasticall order.

At this time was assum'd to the Pontificate, the Cardinall Camillo Borghese of Sienna, Paul the fifth, about the end of the yeare 1605. either because he had beene Auditor della Camera, and had taken a great habite of thundering out censures, or per­haps being not well affected to the most severe Republique of Venice, or else instigated by some religious men (as I have it more certaine and by cleerer arguments) who like vipers teare in pieces, and poyson that brest of state that gave them bree­ding, and nourishment; the pretence of the diffe­rence being grounded upon some lawes of that common-wealth which were said to be against church priviledges. So that things fell into a mani­fest dissention among them: the Pope pretending that those lawes were not onely unjust but cancel­led [Page 87]and abolish't; on the contrary side the Repub lique maintained that they were just, and good lawes, and in no interpretation contrary to the law­full liberties of the Church.

This businesse boyling betwixt those two great princes, some of the primary Senators, who had for­merly beene the fathers familiars, began to confer strictly with him about this controversie, for it could not be concealed; not onely in Venice (a Cit­ty which for amplitude and concourse of all nati­ons knowes all things and silenceth nothing,) but also over all Italy, and upon his arguments which were confirm'd by a precedent knowledge they had of him, they proceeded to acquainte him with the businesse by a pulicke communication.

This fire lay long raked up under ashes of pro­positions and answers, and arguments on both sides, by the space of a month, when about the entrance of the yeare 1606. it threw forth greater flames of monitories & comminations of censures. Because the matter being partly Thelogicall and partly le­gal, the most excellent Senate came to a resolution, to chose next after their consultors in Jure, a man that was both a divine and a Canonist. And after having caused to be read a short writing to that purpose, they made choice of the father into that charge, who hath since served them seaventeene yeares, not onely in that facultie, but as a consultor of state in all their charges of greatest consequence. Because though his hands (as it is said) are past all sort of matters of peace, of warre, of their confines, of their covenants, of jurisdiction, of tribute, and of every other sort of treaties. But this alone may [Page 88]make it knowne how universall, how faithfull, and sincere his service was, that upon the death of the consultors in law (men of eternall memory) Marc. Antonio Pelegrini, Erasme Gratiani, Agostno del bene) the common-wealth was so well served by the father alone in all sort of businesse, that they chose no successors into their places, as was formerly used to be done, except it were one Il Sig­nor Servilco Tree, and when he failed by death, the father remained alone.

Being now entred upon this charge, he thought it of necessity to have companions of experimented fidelitie, whom he might trust as himselfe, and spe­cially to turne over books for him. Because the customes of those times thought it not enough, to know things with resolutions, and reasons, but they would have an addition of a long series of Allegations of Doctors of the one, and the other law. And he that would not erre upon the credit of others, which often deceives men, thought it was necessary for him from point to point to see the au­thors at the fountaine, being a businesse rather of much toile then wit.

To this purpose he cast his thoughts upon Frier Fulgentio a Brescian (to whom he had long before vouchsaf' the favour of a strict familiaritie) making use of him for ordinary studying, and being so di­rected, not by way of ordinary readings, which he esteemed to be rather a way of ostentation, then any waies fruitfull, but after the manner of Socra­tes, and in a midwife-like way appointing to reade such bookes, or such a matter, and then after by discourse to finde out and produce the truth, to [Page 89]shew the errors and so settle a right understan­ding. A meanes truly both singular and excellent, to teach a man the way to be wise, although it have beene neglected and out of use, to prevent, as they say, a shew of pompe and ostentation.

The reader will be pleas'd to dispence with this little digression in this place, because it serves to take away an objection made against the fathers goodnesse, not onely by the Friers, but by some of his owne intimate friends, that he being so rare a man in all learning should be so sparing to commu­nicate his knowledge to others. And many have gone so far as to tax him of an envious disposition, that he tooke no pleasure in another mans wisdome, and loved rather to hide those rich talents of his owne from others. But really it was not so, for he was rather of the most friendly and bountifull soule in this particular, that could possibly be found, be­cause he communicated with an incredible readi­nesse whatsoever was required upon occasion, and with a prudence so much to beadmired, (though not to all men) but yet to every one according to their capacity or profession, and in such manner as hath beene already told.

Here I could put you in minde of Gentlemen and religious men whom he hath made perfect, some in the moralls, others in the Mathematiques and in naturalls. But to make a profest reading upon A­ristotle, Plato, Saint Thomas, Scoto or Gratian (ex­cept the mathematiques) which to be taught with­out order and not to be taught is all one, this was so contrary to his Genius, that he could not endure it, and held it a pedantique way, as not serving to [Page 90]encrease knowledg, or better the minde, but onely to be able to argue with subtillty, and make a shew of wit, and rather to breed a pertinacity of opi­nion, then to make a sincere search of the truth.

Returning to our narration, he resolved to have with him for his compagnion the foresaid Fra. Ful­gentio, who was at that time in the universitie of Bo­logna, and in the sixt yeare of his profession of rea­ding schoole divinty, having read before that three yeares at Mantova, and being further engag'd from the Generall of the order to read three yeares longer at Bologna, wherein he had made his begin­ning. But the command of his master that required him expressly and without exception, alledging that he stood in neede of him as far as concern'd his life, made him breake through all obstacles, and leaving his lecture, and what hope soever he might conceive of preferment in religion, and being well assured of what followed, which was the confiscati­on of his poore library and those moveables which were allowed him for his use, he came away whither the charitie of his beloved master or father invited him.

After this the controversie betwixt these two great Princes grew higher then any termes of negotiation among themselves could compasse, and before any other Princes could interpose as they did after for accommodation: The father with the other con­fulters was continually at the worke and imployed by the publique prudence, seeking out how the most excellent Senate (salva la ruierenza) which was due to the Apostolicall sea might governe themselves, to [Page 91]maintaine their liberty and power of a soveraigne Prince as independent in their own Dominions. The father made divers informations by publique order which are extant, and chiefely one little tractate concerning excommunication, wherein with as much brevity as a writing that was to be read in such a secrecy could import for instruction, and wih greater clearenesse, all being comprehended that was essential to that censure, as the instisution of it, the le­gitimate use of it in holy church, the manner how Princes & republiques have grounded themselvs upon like occasions (although it wil be hard to find such government among Catholique Christians, which at some time or other hath not suffered by those en­counters with the court of Rome) (since that about the eleventh age from our Lord, that abuse crept in of employing spirituall armes to mundane ends,) all was briefely comprehended in conformity to ho­ly Scriptures, to holy Councells, to the sacred anti­ent Doctors, & how in such a subject a faithfull pi­ous and catholique Prince ought to deport himselfe.

It is a great losse, that among other writings of his concerning the publique (which are many great volumes, and of inestimable value in all matters of state) this should not be found, and he that kept un­der key all his life long even to the least bolletines and short notes that he made upon every word that concerned the publique which he had written du­ring all his faithfull service, and having searched for this with extraordinary diligence, yet it could ne­ver be found: but we have a certaine rudiment which seemes to have beene the first draught of the discourse, which is full of solidity and christian pi­ety. [Page 92]Besides the writings and consultations whereof we neede to say no more but that the most excellent Senate, having by publique decree commanded they should be copied out into bookes for future use in government. Hee was constrained against his will, and against what he had alwaies proposed to himself to publish some things that hee had written upon these occurents.

First, it was thought necessary to give the world a short account of the state of the controversie, which from those pens that were devoted to the Romane Court, went so maskt and disguised, that the people were extreamly abused, as if the controversie had only concerned religion, whereas there was nothing else in the question but of jurisdiction: and so at the very beginning there came forth at Milan a long writing in print, which was on purpose nail'd up in the night, and fastened in the publique places at Ber­gamo, and upon the Bergamasco, (which are lands that in the temporality are subject to the state of Ʋenice,) and in the spiritualty are under the Arch-Bishop of Millan.) They contained things of much exorbi­tancy, That their Sacraments could not be valide, that their Matrimonies were concubinates, their children illegitimate, and divers other things di­rectly contrary to the doctrine of the very Cano­nicall law. This engaged a necessity of giving the world a short account of the truth.

And because the father never made profession of any language which he had not well studied, but onely to serve to the explication of his owne sence, he made a collection in writing into certaine heads, of all that he thought fit to be spoken of. And it [Page 93]was after given in charge to Gio: Battista Leoni a man that was most vers't in the elegancies of the Italian tongue, having spent his time in it, when he was the Secretary of Cardinall Comendone and of other Prelates, and had to his honour, put divers things in print which were well approved of. And after he had beene a whole day in the company of Leoni to informe him throughly, being continually himselfe imployed in greater matters, he required Fra. Ful­gentio, that had borne a great part in making that collection, to looke to divers places in the authors themselves, and to discusse the matters from pointe to pointe. And before he would accept the publique charge for foure monthes together, he studied the matter day and night to be first well resolved in his conscience of the justice of the Venetians cause and of the ground of it. And while Leoni was busie in giving the stile, the father called to minde a tractate in the matter of excommunication written by Gio Gerson a Parisian doctor, and famous for having been Chancelor of the Sorbone at Paris, who had taken great paines at the councell of Constance to remove a long schisme which had lasted seaven and thirty yeares in the Romane Church, and was reputed a man of learning and piety, living and dying with a same of perfect holinesse. He caused some of the greate Senators to peruse it, who finding that it see­med to be written as if it had beene directed against the businesse in agitation, did by their authority make the father translate it into Italian, and pre­fixing a short epistle in the front, sent it to the presse. Against which little worke, Cardinall Bellar­mine having written, and given a particular en­counter [Page 94]to the letter in the frontispice, and char­ging the author with false interpretation, and with doctrine contrary to that of the church, and after fell to confute the little worke it selfe of Gerson. The father being engaged into a necessitie of an­swering, and withall of defending Gerson: A booke was thereupon printed, which is now in being, and intituled the apologie of Iohn Gerson, in which, I am sure that learned & pious Catholikes who pre­fer not ambition, and flattery of Court before the cleare fountaines, their owne consciences, and the solide Catholique doctrine, having not found any thing wanting either in the writers modestie, nor for depth of learning, nor in the sufficiency of the defence, but the worke it selfe (being publique) let the learned and pious professors of the truth be the Judges.

Leoni also wrote, (who as in matter of elegancy and smooth language, gave more satisfaction then needed) so in that which concern'd soliditie and sub­stance he came as far too short. And truely it is im­possible that he that of himselfe is not capable of a matter should be able to write substantially at ano­ther mans information, and how much more he shall strive by quaintnes of expression to give it or­nament, by so much the worke will faile and be wanting in solide sence. Nor yet did it give full content to those that reade it, and because now in the meane time, a number of little pamphlets flew abroade in printe, which were full of petulancy and impudence, and wherein either not touching the controversie they spent themselves in ill language a­gainst the Senate, and seditious conceipts with the [Page 95]people either perverted the state of the cause by confuting their owne fantacies, and blotting of paper in a vanitie of discourse and flattering decla­mations, or by touching the difference with so much slightnesse diverted it to things that were impertinent. It was thought necessary that father Paul himselfe should set pen to paper, which he did, and wrote a worke under the name and title of Con­siderationi sopre le censure.

Of the pietie and solidity whereof the wi­sest are onely fit to be judges, and whether the con­futations that were made against it be confutations or else confessions of a desperate cause. And because against that, as at a marke, the multitude of writers shot all their arrowes (with which kinde of men our age is furnisht abundantly) who make their gaine the end of their writing, and their ho­nour more then the truth, and among others find-that one father Bovie a Carmelite had written least foolishly, the father was willing his booke should be answered by a booke that was called Le confirma­tioni, under the name of Maestro Fulgentio, which if it deserve commendations, must be onely attributed to the father, by whose directions and help it was composed. His is also (though cursorily written) la aggimita e supplimento all Historia degli uscocchi; beside the tediousnesse of the letter and documents of Signor Minuncio. And another little worke De ju­re asylop Petri sarpi Juris, which is the name that Padre Paolo was knowne by abroade. And an extract of a writing of his, made by publique order to give a rule of uniformitie how to proceede in that mat­ter of the immunity of consecrate places through [Page 96]the whole dominions of Venice, but it is more ample in the originall, as it was presented to the publique containing particular lawes and treaties that had past with the Popes. I have seene in the hands of some of the magistrates a long manuscript which treates of the office of the holy inquisition at Venice, and of all the state, but made by publique order, which although it seeme only restrained to the par­ticular use of the most excellent common wealth, yet, it is a most singular piece, and worthie (for the exquisitors and rare things which it containes,) that all Princes should purchase it as a precious jewell, not onely at the weight of gold, but as here­tofore the works of Democritus were bought. But it may well be believed, that those Lords which have it in possession are not ignorant of that worth, but keepe it as a Jewell.

These are the works of father Paul that are seen abroade in written hand, or in printe under his one­ly name; or that are certainely reputed to be his, though made upon divers occurrents. Because that tractate of the interdict set out in propositions was compiled by the common consent of the seaven divines, which at that time the common wealth kept together to examine their difference with the Pope. Since then, an opinion hath got footing in in divers places. But in Rome tis publisht for an un­doubted truth, that he was the author of the Histo­ry of the Councell of Trent divided into eight books, and printed in Italian at London, and pre­sently after translated into all the most common languages of Europe. And it may be that Rome tooke that assurance, the rather because for a long time [Page 97]the father went gathering with extreame diligence, whatsoever he could attaine to know, either by cost or friendship, sparing no labour about the cele­bration of the said Councell, and not onely in Italy but abroade. And at such times as it was lawfull for him to converse with ihe Ambassadours of forraine Princes, which was betwixt his being a Divine, and a Canonist, untill his being made a consultor of state: he had all that while a free entrance into their secrets. He was most intimate with those of France, with Ferrar, Demete and Fresnes, and parti­cularly with Ferrier, who being present at the said Councell of Trent, had many great memorialls (and letters which are the most secure and reall founda­tion of an History.) Of this wee have an argument although it be but a slight one which is, the inscrip­tion of Pietro Soave Polano, whose Anagrammatisme makes Paolo Sarpio Veneto the name and surname of of the father. But in these kindes of encounters the matter is infinite, though the labour be but vaine; yet be it how it will, I am of opinion that a judg­ment of the fathers wisdome cannot be made upon his writings, except it be with such a discretion as the subtile artificer, who by the sight of one of the clawes knows the greatnesse of the Lion, and as in histories wee finde that by the measure of a finger is comprehended by the rule of proportion, the great­nesse and vastitie of the Colossus at Rhodes, because in workes that were written in such a necessitie of difference and dispositions, it was a greater study to know what was fit to be silenc't then what to be spoken. He that reades may well observe the great modestie where with he speakes in a time whereas [Page 98](with scandall to posteritie) he was become the object of all malignant and petulant pennes, dipt more in the poison of Calumny, and malediction, then of inke; yet for all this, as a man never pro­vok't, he chose with all exquisitenesse rather to de­fend the cause which he thought to be just, then to make answer to detractions.

There is also to be seene the Rubricks of 206 chapters of a worke which he had in Idea of the power of Princes, which gives some expectation to have beene the most desir'd and important composi­tion that ever appeared to the world: whereof this may stand for a proofe, that he had extended the three first chapters to so great a comprehension of matter, he having with his owne hand bestowed the first draught of them upon the most illustrious Lord Giorgio Contarini. This Lord, who to the nobi­litie of his great house hath added an incomparable vivacity of wit, a singular judgment and other guifts which have rendred him conspicuous, ma­king a collection of many rare things, especially of the vulgar writings of the greatest persons, is possest of this, and will not suffer it, as I believe, to goe out of his hands, because some of his Rubricks being disperst into divers Countryes, where there are men of famous learning and knowledge, might stirre them up (if it were possible) to undertake a conti­nuation of what the father had onely left in Idea; wherefore to send abroad the three said chapters as they were drawne up, would rather have beene a discouragement then an incitation, for feare of fall­ing upon that deformitie which Horace speakes of, Humane capiti cervicem pictor equinam jungere &c. [Page 99]for otherwise, that Lord besides his confidence of finding in a Frier such a Magazine of eminent ver­tues, after he was growne acquainted, and had got an intrinsicke conversation with him, he did not honor him but (as I may say) he adored him like a Numen. He by his great wit being capable to pene­trate the excellency of that divine soule, and after the fathers death no man was so zealous as he to ho­nour his memory. This was he who after the father was dead (while they that should have done more, tooke the least care) (as it oft happens in the like cases) caused his image to be made in chalke and after in mettall, that he might (as he hath done) have it graved in mother of pearle, and cut in brasse. And in all this having not satisfied his fancy, he u­sed all the meanes he could to get it done in mar­ble. These were the effects and demonstrations a most generous heart, and arguments of a sublime intellect.

Here it comes to purpose to insist upon the mani­fest injury which churchmen had done him, to conceive such an enraged hatred, and so unjust a­gainst his writings and deportment, during the time that he was employed in the publique service, be­cause in his actions he had alwaies abstained from making any recrimination, and had kept all the lawes of a true divine, and one that had in greatest veneration the sea Apostolike, and the Pontificall dignity and authoritie. And I would it had pleased God that all men had done the like; For then the church had beene had in more honour, and that honour had extended it selfe further. And as for other mens writings, I would not have churchmen [Page 100]thinke that at that very time, there was a want of persons that made formall answers to so great ca­lumnies and maledictions against the most se­rene Common-wealth, & the defenders of her cause.

But the father Paul did by publique command with his fix other Collegues, reduce himselfe in a Canonicall way to take examination of whatsoever was presented to the presse, & upon every thing there was a speciall care that no offence might be given to the Court. And out of that respect it is, that there are so many other writings which were never suffer'd to be put in print. And the great piety of the Common­wealth deserves an eternall memory, who for this end (besides the other examen) had deputed there of the greatest Senators for age, for merit, and ho­nor, who after the report was made by the said di­vines, did themselves review every thing before it went to the presse with a most curious eye, that no­thing should be impertinent to the cause: or offen­sive to the contrary part, who on the contrary part are so far from giving the like respect to them, as the world well knowes, having given an eternall scandall to Catholique religion and are grown to such a passe, that the Catholick religionwith them is no more, but what their owne interest and arbitre­ment dictates.

And because in the writings which at that time and fince are come forth upon severall occasions (if they may have life, whereof there is no great appearance, and much lesse reason, except for this, that they favour the pretences of the Romane Court) the maledictions against the poore father are in­numerable, the impostures, the impudent Calum­nies, [Page 101]being the most notoriously false, that perhaps were ever invented against a man, whereat prudent and pious men need not wonder, but rather remem­ber, that in all ages there have not wanted some such pestiferous penns, who to become servile to the Court, have adulterated so many tractates under the name of holy fathers, & famous writers, corrup­ted true narrations, brought in fabulous legends, and above all infected the world, with impostures and infamations of those, whose works they were neither able to extinguish nor confute. But since the time that these religions are set on foote which are so much tied to the interesse of the Court, this li­cence of altering, corrupting, lying, fayning, calum­niating is growne so great, that if other sects or ages should be put into the ballance with them, they deserve rather to be canonized then defended, be­cause this kinde of impudency knowes no limits but hath a foundation beyond the ordinary To­piques. Ill language is of easie entrance, and fals­hood is spoken in a few words, but the confutation is of greatest difficultie, and requires long narrations which are read with impatiency, and of but a few, and when a slander is once gone abroade, they are very few that thinke themselves concern'd in the ex­cuse of him that is slandered, or in discovery of the truth: especially since of the one side the rewards and allurements are large, and of the other side there comes little or no mundane advancement.

But above all other these moderne men have their owne reasons to be in this matter as the old saying is Guaviter impudentes, which is their security, that how notorious soever the imposture be, yet it [Page 102]shall be fastened to a multitude, and undoubtedly to an innumerable number of their devoted depen­dants, who without further discussion of truth re­ceive every thing upon other mens credit, as did in former times the disciples of the Eleusinian myste­ries, or (to speake nearer to the purpose) those that were adherent to the Gnosticks and Manichees, and other such like sects with whom it was an onely ar­gument to believe any exorbitancy, by an ( Ipse dix­ic) and thus much was necessary to be said concer­ning these writings.

But in his actions Padre Paolo deserves rather a­mong Churchmen to have a blessed memory. And thus much the excellent Senate and common-weale will for ever testifie how unjustly this was objected, that either he sought to stir up any thing against the lawfull ecclesiasticall immunities, or counselled any thing that might redound to the diminution of the authority of the sea Apostolicke. They will also testifie, with how much art and singular prudence he hath often tempered that ardour which (even in the most moderate Citisens) the zeale of their libertie hath used to inflame against any that are reputed offendors or usurpers of their jurisdiction. They can also testifie the great reverence where­with he hath alwaies spoken, and written concer­ning the Popes and the Apostolicall sea. Yet for all this moderation he could not prevent being cited to Rome to render an account of his written doctrine. To the citation he made answer by a Manifesto (which is in print,) wherein he pro­ved the nullity of the Citation, and an impossi­bilitie of transferring himselfe to Rome, which yet [Page 103]remaines without confutation. And the conse­quence will prove whether he had reason to trust himselfe thither, whether it were just that (as he had humbly petitioned) so a secure place might first be assigned him to make his defence before further proceeding. But without further (scruple as it was reported) he went to Rome, but there was never a­ny lawfull account or reason yielded to declare him obnoxious to the censures or Ecclesiasticke pe­nalties, it being a report, that they were so farre sur­prized with his Manifesto, that they would never suffer it to be published. Besides he drew a long writing which was after knowne to be presented to the Pope himselfe, wherein he made a briefe col­lection of many formall Heresies and tyrannicall doctrines which are found among those defenders which wrote on the Pontificall part. As for his owne writings he made them this offer, that if they would decline that ambiguous and captious way of citation, pretending him guilty of hereticall pro­positions, scandalous, erroneous, offensive to god­lie eares, Respectivè, all the rest being made unintelli­gible by the addition of that strange word, Respectivè but as if he had in particular, and by name gathered & noted the wretched and false propositions which were in the writings of the Ecclesiastiks, so they would but deale with his writings, that then he of­fered, himselfe being secur'd in an any place among Catholikes; there to hold disputation with any man, and presently to retract if there were any cause shewed that required retractation. And to this pur­pose the Embassador answered his holinesse, carry­ing with him the said writing which he imparted [Page 104]to those Prelates at Rome that desired to see it.

It seemed that God the just Judge (at the same time that this tempest of persecution was raised against him) was pleased in another kinde to com­fort and relieve him. And as his divine majestie doth not use to leave his servants under a greater weight, then what by his holy grace they may sustaine, en­creasing troubles out of his charitie, and his perse­cutions coming from so high a hand. He was cleere­ly healed of those: great infirmities, which from his youth he had borne with an unconquered pa­tience, and under such a weaknesse of complexion, he himselfe then being as healthfull as he could wish: excepting onely that of the Procidentia the fal­ing downe of his guts, whereof he made no great matter, having with his instrument found a meanes whereby it gave him no impediment at all. And the retention of his urine troubled him no more untill the seaventieth yeare of his age, for in this time that that wee speak of he was but 55.

The fathers actions of this yeare would yield us matter of too long a discourse, the piety wherewith the most excellent Senate did governe themselves (after so great an offence and continued injuries) towards our holie Catholike religion, and to­wards the Pope himselfe, who had done the inju­ries,) their prudence in government, and charitie towards their subjects is partly seene in a particular relation which the father made by publique order for memories sake, which after stole into the presse. But sure it is that it went printed into France, and there it was reprinted. But to returne to our pur­pose; [Page 105]wee finde in the memorialls that remaine in all histories, the deplorable tragedies that have succee­ded when Popes have proceeded to excommuni­cate Princes and publish interdicts, and no lesse when with the like censur's, this excellent Common­wealth was injur'd being paralelled with the succes­ses of this which hath continued above sixteene monthes; the father hath herein deserved eternall memory, or rather to be canonized for one of the most pious, holie, well deserving and prudent reli­gious men, that ever serving Prince with uncorrup­ted faith did likewise serve the holy Church, and the Popes themselves. If that be true which writers of the Ecclesiasticke part have published in so many prin­ted bookes, that the fathers reputation was such that all his consultations were received and execu­ted like oracles. Because it was proceeded against those religious men, who either for scruple of con­science (which were very few (or by way of faction, and interest disobai'd the publique orders, with so much favour that not any one of them was punisht with death for any offence, and verie few deprived of libertie to goe where they listed. A precedent sel­dome seene upon the like occurrents in other places, wherein the most serene Common-weale made so little use of the power against offenders which God had given them to vindicate the injuries of male­factors. And to say truth, the nature of the father was so mercifull, that it sorted well with the publique Clemency, nor was he ever consulted concerning any grievous publique offence, wherein he did not sweeten their deliberations as much as a­ny living man could doe, and excuse whatsoever [Page 106]was capable of an excuse. To be short, he never ser­ved as a spur to any thing but to meekenesse; he ne­ver served as a bridle to the prudence of that govern­ment, but onely in the restraint of some fiery spi­rits, and particularly in the examination of things that were desired to be sent to the stampe. In his owne writings, all his care was to silence whatsoe­ver might give offence, not in what he could say in defence, for the matter was very ample, and the worke that lay upon him was more in defalcation then addition. And they that have seen his originalls can make faith, how much he desired to stand to the cause without suffering his pen to runne riot in any thing which by interpretation might be drawne into offence, although the malitious sub­tilty of some flatterers hath made it appeare, that there can be nothing so moderately spoken, which is not subject to depraved expositions.

The faction of the Court had (among other ar­tifices) to get a victory in this controversie, made use of this, to send divers men under various pre­texts to seduce (either by promises, or threatnings, or both) those that served the republique, parti­cularly, those religious men that made up the col­ledge of the seaven divines, as it happened, That two of them deviated from the dutie of their consciences. And truly they did their offices with such violence, so much of threatning, as of promise, that if the justice of the cause of Venice had not been exceeding cleer, & the infamy of deserting it so notorious after the Just. of it examined, understood and defended, it had beene enough to have staggered a very solide braine.

But such was the conceipt of the very enemies of [Page 107]the fathers integritie, that having attempted all o­thers by all their engines whereby their fidelitie might be shaken, they durst not so much as moue the father by a word. And true it is, that the Gene­rall of the Servi Maestro Filippo Ferrari Alessandrino being an intrinsike friend of the fathers, and going from Rome to Venice, Pope Paul gave him a strict commission to remove from the service of the com­mon-weale, two of his order, Frier Paul, and Frier Fulgentio with ample promises of reward. But the Generall made him answer, that for father Paul he thought he was able to doe no good. And going to the Cardinal de Ascoli, with whom the father had had beene very intimate, and communicating his thoughts to him of attempting that revolt. The Cardinall told him that he had seene the Fathers writings, and thereby knew that it was but a lost la­bour, & not to be attempted. This great and learned Prelate understood the soliditie of the Venetian rea­sons, the fathers incorruptibilitie and his minde that was impenetrable either by allurements of Court, by ambitions, by profits or terrors. And when Don Prancesco de Castro came extraordinary Embassadour from the Catholique King to Venice, to treate of an accommodation, having in his com­pany some religious persons of emenency, there was not one of them that durst open his mouth to the father to any such purpose. Onely one of them once set a net to have caught him, but in vaine. One Martino Asdrale Vallone, one that was an excellent spie, came to Venice, pretending a satiety and ill satisfaction of the Court, who having long addrest himselfe to haunt the shop of Sechim (whereof you [Page 108]have heard.) No man had better intelligence of what past at Rome concerning that controversie then he. None more free to condemne the fury of of the Pope then he. He was of no absurd wit, and with much practise he grew cunning enough to let them know that the Pope was of a vindicative spirit, thereby laying a foundation to his designe, which he had given him in charge, and it might be true.

At the end of this yeare, and the comming in of 1607. the accommodation was concluded for the King of France by the meanes of the Cardinall Pe­rone, and the mediator of it had beene the Cardinall of Joyeuse, who by the interposition of Mounsieur de Fresnes Ambassador for the Christian king, had used all diligence that the father & he might meete toge­ther for conference, alledging that besides that he was comprehended by way of accōmodation in the publique cause as a counsellor, he had moreover speciall commissions to treate with him of things concerning his owne greatnesse. The father penetra­ted the Cardinalis end, giving an account thereof to the publique, and thereupon the most excellent Col­ledge, were desirous to heare the fathers owne opi­nion, remitting the resolution to his only prudence, and to them he gave such an answer, that by those most wise Senators it was resolved, that he should not treate with the Cardinall. And among other reasons, the Senate never being inclined to grant either benediction or absolution to such as needed it not, they could not foresee to what end it was to grant a private conference betwixt so great a Cardinall and a Frier. ‘ And although the Father where of himselfe very sparing to speake, yet it was in the [Page 109]power of others to make it more or lesse as they pleased. Nor can be that serves a Prince have a worse encounter being already hated for anothers sake, then to heare a thing whereby one part may be made jealous without hopes of pleasing the other.’ When the agreement wasmade, it was one of the conditions, that the Common wealth should give thankes to all those that were not specified by their names in that revolt. By reason whereof many returned backe to the state that had grievously offended the publique. And the father was also comprehended in Indivi­duo, which was a thing beyond the course of com­mon reason, or the doctrine of lawes, that peace being made with the Prince, it should not be inten­ded to be made with all his Councellors. All which afterwards the Pope himselfe Paul the V did nomi­nally ratifie to the then Embassador, Francesco Con­tarini; (and at this day the most serene Prince and Duke of Venice.) And the truth of thus much shall be verified by things subsequent. That the Pope speaking of father Paul in individuo said, that he had given his benediction to all, and was not willing there should be any more words of what had past.

Vpon which promises of so great a Prince, and upon the integritie of his owne conscience, the fa­ther reposing himselfe in all cleerenesse and tran­quillity, serving his naturall Prince with that faith and diligence which he kept incomparably to his last breath. It fell after divers times into debate, whether the father should goe to visite the Nuntio Gessi, that was sent to Venice after that accommoda­tion. It was answered that it was but an office per­formed in relation to their owne Embassador at [Page 110] Rome, and howsoever that it was but an expression of reverence; And it being referred to his owne consultation: He for his part shewed himselfe most willing, but yet with regard had to the manner how Nuntios use to treate with the Prince himselfe, having power to colour their treaty with a pretext of religion; whereupon it was resolved, that he onely use a set forme of precise words that were pre­scribed him from the most excellent Colledge. And further what he should tolerate, and what he should replie to, in case the Nuntio, as he pretended, should fall upon the cause. This had so much vari­etie of opinions and contrariety, that the businesse without resolution fell to the ground. But it hath since happened, that the greatest Prelates of this state, as well Patriarchs as Bishops, have indifferently upon all occasions treated with the father of these affaires, some visiting him in his Monastery, and others sending to invite him to their houses.

It fell out at this time when the differences were already composed in Venice, that Gasparo Scioppio a man well knowne to the world by his writings in printe, coming from Rome to passe into Germany (as he said) or that he brought with him (as it was also said) a writing full of reproach against the repub­lique to be printed in Germany, beside, other wri­tings full of impiety (as that of Frier Tomaso Cam­panella a Dominican (who having attempted to be­tray Cosenza into the Turks hands) was at that time kept a prisoner in the castle of the egg by the Spa­niards; In that of this, he gave documents to the King and government of Spaine, how under certaine pretexts of religion they might impropriate the pa­pacy, [Page 111]or else stir up his Holinesse to raise new con­troversies against the lesser princes, continuing the practise untill he found an opportunitie to seaze upon their estates, and so proceeding as he would have the Spaniards doe, untill they had gotten the Pontificate into one of their owne, that they might be both King and Pope at once, or else that the Pope might be held on as an instrument of the op­pression of others. Whether it were for this, or for any other secret cause that he had incurr'd publique indignation, he was detained in prison three or 4 daies (if they were so many) and afterwards by publique order he had libertie to goe where he listed.

But Schoppio was desirous to treat with the father, and they discoursed together in matters of learning very long, and particularly of the doctrine of the ancient stoicke, which he professed he would recall to light out of the thick darknesse wherein it was obscured, besides many other learned thoughts of his, and very much also in matter of state, especially concerning the protestants of Germany. And so fall­ing into neerer discourse with the father, he began to let him know that the Pope like a great Prince had long hands, and having conceived some deepe offence against him, it was impossible but that it would fall heavy upon him, and that if he had defi­red to have him slaine he did not want the meanes.

But that the Popes intent was to have him alive into his hands and to fetch him from Venice, and bring him to Rome. Yet neverthelesse he offe­red himselfe (whensoever he pleased) to treate for his reconciliation, and with as much honour as he [Page 112]could desire, affirming that he had many treaties in charge with the protestant Princes of Germany a­bout their conversions. To this the father answered, that he had done nothing for which his Holinesse had reason to be offended, that he had defended a a just cause. That he was extreamely sory that such a defence as was made, should be encountred with the Popes indignation; That in the accommodati­on he was individually comprehended, and that he could no way presuppose a falling of publique faith in a Prince. But as concerning his being slaine, that that of all things troubled him the least. That it was a thing plotted against Emperors, executed up­on Kings, and great Princes, not against private men of so low a fortune as his was. But if such a thing were design'd against him, he said he was prepared to submit himselfe to the divine pleasure, and that he was not so ignorant of humane condition, but that he knew what was to be thought both of life and death, and whether (of him that knew them both well,) they were either of them to be desired or feared more then was necessary. And if he should cause him to be taken alive, and carried to Rome, yet all the power of a Pope could not arrive at this, to make another man patrone of his life before him­selfe, and that he was resolved to be the patrone of his owne life before the Pope. For the rest he gave him many thanks for his good affection, not caring to make any partie for him selfe, or his owne safety, since his cause was so united with the publique, that they could not be disjoyned.

Those two propositions of killing or taken him alive seemed somewhat strange, but that which fol­lowed, [Page 113]not long after will make it cleere that Sciop­pio spake upon good ground, and that the things were already designed. He went away from Venice, and in a satyricall composition relating that he had congresse with father Paul. He attested that he had found him nec indoctum nec tumidum. But the father was so good of himselfe, that he was not able to thinke an il thought, but believed whether that these were both conceipts of Scioppio, besides that of his owne nature he was beyond measure undaunted, and being so resign'd to the will of God, he lived most confident in his owne innocency. And though he were often admonisht to have a care of himselfe, by those Lords that were the Inquisitors of state (this is a supreame Magistrary in Ʋenice to whom many secret things are made knowne) to whom intimation was given, that there was a ma­chination against the fathers life, which they (in their charitie) as often warn'd him of that he might be put upon his guard; yet he seemed to take no care of himselfe, either out of the greatnesse of his spirit (as they that have had often experience can give assurance) or else by being secure that nothing could happen without the divine disposition, and that those things which are appointed by God, can­not be hindred by any humane caution or warning, but that rather many times too much caution & so­litude are among the causes of contrary events, and especially in such accidents, where travell may be both uncertaine and infinite. Certainely he was ne­ver enclined to change his accustomed manner of life in the least kinde, but would ever say, that it was indifferent to him to die this way or that way, [Page 114]onely that he might die justified because he was re­solved that in no way death should ever take him unprovided. And among the excellent vertues of this man, it was not the least, that he never valued his life, so it is a rare example of him that hath this reso­lution rooted in his minde, that it is an indifferent thing either to live or to die.

Six moneths after this accommodation happened an accident, which gave the world much to talke of, and confirmed Schioppio that he had not spoken in the aire, nor that those iterated admonitions to the father to guard himselfe were superfluous; because in the evening of the first of October about 3 of the clock, the father returning home to his convent from Saint Marco a Santa Fosca, and coming downe neare the foote of the bridge, was assaulted by five assasines, a part making watch, and the rest to doe execution. So that the innocent father had three wounds with stillettoes; whereof two were given him in the necke, and one in his face, which entred at the right eare and came out againe betwix his nose and his right cheeke. The assasine could not pul backe his stilletto, because it had past the bone where itstucke so fast, & went so far in that it was bearded. In the successe of humane things, divine providence is ever to be admired, where humane prudence va­nishes out of sight, it being most certaine that in actions there is an eternall force, and a long chaine of causes, so far without us, that neither our know­ledge nor any consideration of ours, can ever come neare. It was above three monthes that the father (except that night) was never left alone, but had in his company beside Fra. Marino his servant, Padre [Page 115]Fulgentio, with another companion of spirit and valour.

For although the caveats to looke to himselfe were now very frequent, yet these religious men walkt about with an intire confidence, fearing no ill, because they knew they did none, but had de­fended so just a cause, and believing that the heate of the controversie being once over, no man could be of so impious and tyrannicall a minde to presume (after so solemne an accommodation) to give the world and all Princes so wicked an example, or to thinke that Princes had not learned persons alwaies about them to be able to defend their actions, but that they must employ murtherers, and cutthroates. That night it happened he was left by Padre Fulgen­tio, and his other companion, and it was upon this occasion. Two daies before by a casuall fire, there were some houses burnt in a street that leades to­wards Saint Markes, and Fulgentio hearing men talke of a fire, and that it could not be extinguisht, was desirous to goe see it, asking the fathers leave, and intending at his returne to goe home with him. But making his stay somewhat longer then he intended, and believing the father to be gone home by the way of Saint Lio, came home himselfe to the Monastery, by reason whereof the father was that onely time left so long together with his onely single compani­on, who having behind him swords drawne and gunnes, was seized by one of the murtherers, and had his armes streight pinniond behinde him, while another of the murtherers thought he had dispatcht the father, and thereupon gave over, leaving behind (as it is said) the stilletto in the wound, then they [Page 116]tooke up their gunnes into their hands to terrifie such persons as were like to make noise or pursue them. After which Fra. Marino being left by him that held him bound, and seeing three other of the mur­therers stand together and shoote their gunnes, he tooke his heeles and ranne away in a fright. A good old man Alessandro Malipiero deserves much to be remembred upon this occasion for a sincere and vertuous soule adorn'd with solide piety without hypocrisie, a friend of truth. This good man being very nobly borne was yet more noble in the integritie of his life being of a constant and wise judgment in a decrepiteage, and had used every evening to accompany the father (to whom he bare a singular love and reverence) which was also en­terchangeable betwixt them. He went a little way before the father, so that by the advantage of the bridge, the Assasine had a full opportunity to strike and gave him fifteene stabbes, with his stilletto as it was seene by some gentlewomen who stood in their windowes, and the holes were afterward counted in his hood, and the coller of his doublet, but he was onely wounded by three of them, wherein is easily seene a particular divine protection, which depri­ved the murtherer both of his wit and force, who with one light stabbe either in his flanke or the chine of his back might have slaine this innocent man, that all the while neither stir'd nor spoke one word, but (as himselfe after reported) he thought that at the two first stilletato's he felt like two blowes strucken with fire at one instant, and at the third, as if a great weight had fallen upon him with some astonishment, which he felt but in a confused [Page 117]manner. The women in the windowes raised an outcry, and the Signor Malipiero turnd backe againe and seeing the stilletto sticking fast in the fathers head with all his strength puld it out and began to cry out murder, and perceived immediately two of them with their pistolls in their hands running downe the streete of Saint Marcilian, and from thence to Corte vecchia della miserecordia, at the end of which they had a gondola ready, and their compa­nions that tarried for them, from whence they sa­ved themselves in the house of the Popes nuntio, then resident at Ʋenice and from thence the same night they past to the shore, where having prepared a flat boate with ten oares and well armed (which waited for them) they went therin towards Raven­na, or (as some said) to Ferrara. But it being di­vulg'd, & understood that the Assasines had first shel­tred themselves in the Nuncios house, the insurrecti­on and concourse of the people was so great, that although it were very late at night, the house was surrounded, and what with reproachfull words, and popular clamours, the person of the Nuncio himselfe was seene to be in manifest danger; The high coun­celloften were faine to send him a numerous and publique guard to prevent the occasion of a grie­vous inconvenience. The murtherers were not so quickly pursued as they might have been by another strange accident. Some Comaedians who were allow­ed that night to represent at the theater which was at Saint Luigi, where there was acted one of those Comedies which they call Opera conintermedii, a Comedy with musicke, and there was come thither all the neighbourhood; so that in those streetes of [Page 118]the parish of Santa Fosca, the like number of people had not beene seene together at any time, by reason whereof the murtherers had a more secure retire­ment. The executioner of this assasinate was one Ridolfo Poma, who at first being a merchant in Venice, and esteemed for a man of honor, but failing three­in was retired to Naples for the recovering of some of his debts, and from thence he went to Rome, where he was also well respected. But every man be­gan to wonder at the intimacy which he had got with the Cardinall Borghesi, who brought him to his uncle the Pope, from whom by great favour he obtained a promise that two of his daughters (which were left in the state of Venice) should be received Nunnes into a Monastery there. And he put some of his friends into an amazement by writing to them, that ere long (having recovered some of his debts) they should see him in a gallant conditi­on, and by his letters it might be gathered that he conceived hopes as high as to be made a Cardinall. This was the conductor of the plot, together with one Alessandro Parrhasio of Ancona, and there were companions added to them, Giovani of Florence the sonne of Paul, who that he might remaine at Venice without being suspected till the treason were grown ripe for execution, caused himselfe to be listed with a company of other souldiers, which were to serve under a captaine of some ships that were bound for Soria and Alexandria. And one other there was by the name Pasquale da Bitonto, who was also in in pay with another company, being all of them ex­perimented men in such kinde of professions, as it may be well concluded by the rest of their bands, [Page 119]who were all, or for the most part either banisht men, or fugitives.

The spie or guide of the plot, was a Priest Michiel Viti of Berganio who had sometimes officiated in the holy Trinity in Venice, which puts us out of doubt, how many monthes this businesse had beene hatching before it came to light. Because this Priest in lent before, under colour of being much taken with the sermons of father Fulgentio, had used to go every morning into the convent of the Servi, to the dore of the pulpit (which answers to the inner part of the convent) and treated with him verie courteously, to be satisfied by him in some scruples of conscience, and continued his respects e­very day by saluting him and conferring with him of things which concerne the soule. So ea­sily and ordinarily is religion made a stalking horse or instrument of the greatest wickednesse by those who being either falne from a right course, or else fascinated by some more potent error, suffer them­selves to be guided by a blinde obedience.

Before the successe of this cursed act, father Ful­gentio had many times observed, that as he came home with the father over the bridge of Santa Fosca either at the one or at the other end of the bridge, he had seldome or never failed to encounter one while with one, and another time with two soul­diers, which proved afterwards to be those verie murderers. And because he perceived that they lookt narrowly upon the father, and being gone past him, turned againe to looke backe after him, he began to advise him of some danger that was toward him. But the father reprehended him of too much curiositie [Page 120]and suspition, because such things as must take effect can by no humane foresight be prevented.

Before we returne to the wounded father I would desire the reader to tollerate a little transtempora­tion, and digression concerning the murtherers, be­cause the minde is seldome satisfied without hearing something of matter of events. It was verified by publique report, that when Ridolso Poma came with his confederates to Venice, he tooke up a thousand crownes at the chamber of Ancona, and coming to Ravenna after the fact, with the newes that father Paul was slaine, he was honorably welcomed, it be­ing also said that from the chamber of Ravenna he received a thousand crovnes more, but this I doe not affirme, because I have it not upon any certainety. There he got a coach and a guard of armed men, and in the other rites of Romagna they went with their Harquebuses in a kind of triumph. So in their way as they went they were entertained and caresst in all places by Governours untill they came to Ancona, whether the fame by Sea being got be­fore them, that the father was wounded but not dead, did turne their glory into some Ecclipse. Then they arrived at Rome where though they were well received with assignation of entertainement: yet their expectation was unsatisfied and there they continued untill they fell all into their severall disasters.

The Priest Michel Viti was clapt up in prison in the Tower of Nona (whereof I could never yet know the certaine cause) where finding a Frier of father Pauls order in prison, who told others of his order, the foolish things which he had heard from [Page 121] Michel Viti, and what promises had beene made him & the manner of the whole businesse, wherein he said he had done the Church very great service. As for Poma as he was apprehended by a provost marshall he was shot above the him, or so wounded that he died of it. His sonne that was with him, and he, were sent to Civita Vecchia, where he died in prison very miserably. There was also seene some yeares af­ter another sonne of Pomiani in Venice, a young man of great stature, and beautiful aspect, but out of his wits, and followed in the streete by a company of boyes, ragged in clothes, and begging his bread. He was borne for an example of Gods punnishment which passeth from fathers to their children by a ter­rible visitation.

Of the other three I cannot tell the particular successes, nor which of them was beheaded at the Castle of Perugia. But true it is, they came all to ill ends. And because in Rome after they were secur'd and stipended for a time, it came after to a resoluti­on of casting them into prison, or banishing them (as effect made it appeare,) so the cause is in con­cealement, as it ordinarily comes to passe in the resolution of great Princes. It was imputed to their impatience because the promises were not per­formed, it being reported that Poma was to receive 10000 crownes, and the others very great summes, which was the cause why they began to speake in derogation of the Cardinall Borghese, and of the Pope himselfe in extravagant language, discovering too cleerly that which was unperfectly executed, could have no absolute praise nor due re­ward, no not from those that could have given lustre [Page 122]to a thing that was done, and had therefore beene better wrapt up in silence. Then it was said or char­ged upon them that they held a conspiracy to kill both Borghese and the Pope. (Such is the faecunditie of finding out causes in Courts, and especially in Italy.) That which I conceive more probable is that was told me by a Prelate now living, that about the same time Ridolfo the Emperor being dead, and his brother Matthias to succeede him, the Pope sent the Cardinall Mellini as his legate into Germany to in­tervene in that action, upon those ordinary pretensi­ons which the Popes have had alawies in the creati­on of Emperors. At his return to Rome he told them that the Catholiques of Germany tooke very great scandall, that persons which were guilty of such ac­cursed crimes should finde entertainement at Rome. and that thereupon the Heretikes tooke occasion to publish odious writings against the person of the Pope, and to the reproach of all the order of Car­dinalls. This discourse came to the Popes eares, or was else fomented by the bold words which were spoken concerning the non-payment of the 10000 crownes which had beene promised, and thereupon a just provocation given.

True it is, that he gave order they should be put away from Rome, although not without entertain­ments in other places. This seemed to them a thing of so much sharpnesse that they began to lament that they were betraied, and that those were not the promises which had beene made them, and for which they had put themselves upon such evident dangers of dying upon gibbets, and now to faile with them in matter of faith, and in such manner as [Page 123]had beene infamous among the very Turkes, but the provoking so much the mindes of those great men, that are impatient of the least in jurie, was the cause that the foresaid ill fortune fell so heavy upon them, approving that old saying. ‘ That no kinde of Traytors are pleasing to Princes, and that divine justice though with a lame foote failes not to overtake the swiftest forerunners.’

Now returning to our wounded father, the first thing (after his wounds were bound up and he tumbled upon his bed) was to prepare himselfe in his soule to God; to receive (as he did the next morning) the most holie communion in the grea­test humility, entreating all the other fathers that were present with many teares in their eyes to ex­cuse him, if by the impediment of his wounds he were not able to speake much (as he desired to have done,) that he might by greater demonstrations of the sorrow for his sins have begged a pardon of God. And (as it is the order of that Government) the A­vogador being come to take his examen, (who was then Signor Girolamo Trivisano, and at this time Ge­nerall in Candia) the father told him, that he had no enemy that he knew of, nor had he knowne any. Onely he praied the high Councell often that as he with all his heart did pardon him that offended him; so they would make no other demonstration of it, but what might serve to defend him better, if God should be pleased to prolong his life any fur­ther, expressing in his actions as a christian, and sonne of the heavenly father, his due obedience to the Gospell, and as a Philosopher that he had era­dicated out of his soule all spirit of revenge (which [Page 124]is a kinde of savage Justice, but deeply inserted into humane nature.) It was not a singular action of his upon this offence alone but observed by him for­merly, and after in the whole course of his life, ne­ver to procure a revenge although the injurie were never so great, and the most that was ever heard come forth of that blessed mouth of his case of his wrongs though most unsufferable in words or wri­tings, or actions, was to say sometimes with a serene face, Videat Dominus & requirat.

The next morning the Generall Filippo Alessan­drino, hearing of the businesse, came in all hast to visite him; (having beene intimate friends together) and when he had heard how the businesse had been acted. He fell into such an amazement that having communicated his commissions to Fra. Fulgentio, he remained for a while speechlesse.

But observing his owne order in avoiding osten­tation or unnecessary shewes of weaknesse; it fell into consideration whether he should use the help of more then one for his infirmitie, and so he was willing that Signor Alvise Rag [...]ra a young man but very discreete and in Chirurgerie of a light hand, and no hard binding, should giue attendance upon him. But the condition of his person, and the pub­lique respects constrained him to give way that al­most all the famous Physicians and Chirurgions in Venice should have a hand in his cure (beside such, as by publique order came thither from Padua) a­mong whom was Girolamo Fabritio, Aquapendente (an­old friend & an admirer of the fathers vertues) And he was commanded not to stirre from the Convent, (being assisted by Adriano Spigelio who suceeded in [Page 125]the Anatomy Lecture at Padua) untill it might be dis­cerned whether the maladie would determine to life, or death, it being very long in doubt of judg­ment whether the one or the other. Because beside that the wounds themselves were very grievous, and much more by the complexion of that was woun­ded, being so extenuated in nature that when at the best, he seemed but a Skeleton (so distinctly might his bones be numbered) as also by so great a Iosse of blood, that left him almost bloodlesse, continuing morethen 20 daies before he could move or life up hand. To this was added another accidentall mis­chiefe which was reall. The multiplicity of Physici­ans which is a misery common to great persons, be­cause some were of opinion that the wounds by the blacknesse of their orifice gave an argument of a poisoned weapon, and others that the treacle in the medicaments had caused inflammations, and it see­med to some that the inflammation went not farre, but might be pared away, whereby the patient was forced to suffer as much by his Physicians as by the disease, which was very long with divers recru­descencies and prognostiques both of life and death. In all which continuance the father behaved himselfe with his wonted piety and constancy. Wherein he was much to be admired; nor did he forbeare in his greatest dolours sometime to please himselfe with his owne conceipt. As at one time he set all the Physicians, and Chirurgions a laughing, that were not lesse then a dozen about him, because as he was in dressing, Aquapendente said that the greatest wound was not yet cured, the father so­dainely replied, I, but the world will have it that it [Page 126]was given Stylo Romanae curiae. And the same night being laid in his bed, and being told that the stile was there which was left sticking in his head, he caused it to be brought him, and having felt it with his fingers he said immediatly it is not filed.

Not many houres after, there ran a fame that the assasines where apprehended. Those that were pre­sent, and yet alive, make faith that upon the newes he seemed to be much displeased saying, perhaps they may discover something that may give scandall to the world, and prejudice to religion, which wee may the better believe he said, because he had recei­ved assurance, that they had betaken themselves to the house of the Nuntio, as also of the tumult which wee told you of. But in the whole course of his in­firmitie he never shewed the least signe of paine, as in emplastering, in cutting to widen orifices, which being made with a stile, and so deepe, require dila­tation by the rules of art. And because the bone of the upper jaw was broken, many times when the wounde made a shew of healing, nature making abscesse to expell corruption, renewed alwaies the inflammations with excesses of considerable fevers untill such time as it was absolutely healed, and the scarres remaining in his face, both at the entrance, and comming forth of the weapon.

Alessandro Malipiero would have the stile as due to him because he puld it out of the wound. But con­sidering the successe, which if it were not full of mi­racle, was yet a particular demonstration of divine providence, and the most speciall custody of the in­nocent father, so he was content it should be hung at the feete of a crucifixe in the Church of the Servi, [Page 127](where it yet remaines) with this inscription, Dei filio liberatori.

The day after the receipt of his wounds he recei­ved the newes of the death of Mounsieur de Maisse, which afflicted him with an immense griefe, where­of he made demonstration to Pietro Assileneo saying. Wee have lost our deare friend Monsieur de Maisse. This is a wound which admits no remedy. And in this humane condition of ours where among friends wee must expect to be either a spectator, or a spectacle, and as the father loved him sincerely so in his losse he became sensible of much dis­content and sorrow.

The most serene Republique could not make a greater demonstration of their respects to the father, nor of their publique discontent upon that acci­dent, nor of their munificence (their ordinary propertie) nor of their charitie toward him that had beene their servant, because upon the newes of the accident, the excellent Senate that were then assembled, broke up immediatly without proceeding any further, with an universall murmur of condole­ment. The Councell often being also met (who have the judicature of the greatest criminall causes) & there was that evening so great a concourse of Se­nators in the Convent of the Servi, that one would have thought that they had intended to have held a Senate in the place.

They sent money to the Monastery to bespent upon the cure. And besides the resort of the Pri­mary Senators, that ordinarily visited him; He was sent to every day by publique persons, and the Se­nate commanded that the Physicians should goe to attend the Senate to make a true relation of the [Page 128]state of the father, and with a rich recompence of a chaine and Medalls; the Signor Aquapenden [...]e was created Cavaglier, for having attended upon the cure. And as for securing the fathers person in time to come whatsoever was imaginable was done. As for the murtherers who were presently knowne, and discovered by particulars from whence they came, and whither they went, they gave them ba­nishment of the highest nature that the Supreame Councell had ever done to any for crimes of the greatest excesse. They printed proclamations also with promise of ample rewards to the people or any man that at any time upon the like occasion (if any should attempt to offend the father) should raise themselves to kill or apprehend the attemptors of any such offence with the same rewards proposed to whosoever should make a discovery to justice of a­ny plot or machination against the said father. They gave allowance also for the keeping of a guard a­bout him with libertie to beare armes arm'd of any sort, and for maintayning thereof an encrease of stipend, with a house at Saint Marks at the pub­lique charge where he might remaine in se­curitie.

But the father was resolved never to change his course of life, and besought them that he might con­tinue in the Monastery among his brethren, with whom he had lived untill that age, affirming that he could not tell how to live otherwise, and that was his calling, wherein they were content to gratifie him, onely causing some little buildings to be added to his chamber, from whence by a little gallery, and a ladder he might have the commodity to take boat; [Page 129]that when it happened he was to returne from the publique service home to the Monastery by night, he might not be exposed to trechery.

Necessity yet constrained him in parte to make an eternall change of the tenor of his life. Because (howbeit the serene Republique had from the be­ginning assumed him into their service by assigning him a convenient stipend, yet) he untill those very times was never willing to make use of more then necessity required without declining at all from the rigour of his religion, nor the povertie thereof; be­ing content with that simple food and rayment without any alteration.

But by this accident he was constrained to go no more on foote from the Servi to Saint Marks, it be­ing necessary to have past through some blinde al­leys which had given opportunity to such as sought his life, but to use the commoditie of gondo­laes. For which consideration in sixteene yeares fol­lowing he hath beene accustomed to embarke him­self, landing at the Rialto to goe the rest of that little streete of the mercery in security being so frequen­ted as it is, and by the advantage of a daily exercise to keepe himselfe in abilitie of walking, likewise he foresaw a necessitie of having a companions; the one to serve him, and the other for a writer; to Fra. Marco which was one of them he gave him at two se­verall times six hundred duccats (besides a good re­venew of 50 per An.) and upon the other Fra. Mar­nio 300 in banke to put forth 10 per Cent, because he might have a subsistance, and afterward 40 per Annum. And besides this in the Convent it was thought necessary for him to enlarge his hand to [Page 130]those that managed bread and wine, and to some cookes he gave no lesse then 60 duccats in one yeare. Nor will any that shall reade his life, esteeme it ei­ther imprudence or prodigallity, but the necessary defence of his owne life. He went yet further to give largely upon all occasions, and to be liberall among his conventualls, which things gayning him more benovelence, and interesting many in his conserva­tion, did likewise engage him to give over that ri­gide resolutiom of not accepting those provisions which were assigned him from the publique munifi­cence, which also enabled him to exercise those acts of liberallitie. The habite of which vertue was so na­turall to him, that when he was at the poorest of his fortune he never denied any thing that was asked him, whether it were money if he had it, or else any of his bookes. And if it were not of necessary use to himselfe, his parting with it was an irrevocable giving it away. And in these latter times that he was able to give almes and guifts, he hath given so much to some one man that desired it of him by way of loane, that he that knowes it affirmes by good proofe that it did amount to above 2000 duccats. And his manner of lending was alwaies with this condition, that except he redemanded it, they should never offer to repay him (as one that was willing to give in such a way, that the thing that he gave, should not have so much of meanenesse and inferi­oritie that it might be said to be bestowed.) And very often he had in his mouth this saying Imitiamo Dio e la natura, let us &c. who whatsoever they give they never expect againe, and let us avoide that Com­mon error of such as thinke that to lend is to lose, [Page 131]or else put a friend to blush or be assured.

He made another change also in this, that from that time forward, while he lived, he ne­ver converst abroade out of his chamber, in the Mo­nastery, except it were in publique places, as the Church and the quire, or coming to divine offices, or to the refectory at meales. His life being ever af­ter, Hermite like and totally solitary, as farre as the publique service could dispence with it, and his narrow world was confined to his poore cell, and that little path betwixt the Rialto and Saint Marke. Which is but the street of the Merzaria spending the rest of his time in the exercises of his soule in his ne­ver interrupted studies, and in the service of the pub­lique, or of his private neighbours; it being come to that passe, that in all sorts of businesse they came to him for advice, and he gave answer to all with such meeknesse and profunditie, as if he had beene every mans advocate, and to this particular purpose two strange things fell into observation. The one that never any thing was proposed to him, whereto he did not as readily and solidely give an answer, as if it had beene in his onely profession, and yet he gave no resolution nor answer so sodainly that it see­med not to be and studiously considered of, and such an one as it was impossible to be bettered, and in sixteene yeares there seldome happened any matter of consequence wherin he was not consulted because from all the cities that were subject to the signiory, in the most difficult causes his opinion was alwaies desired, as in testaments, in matrimonies, in feoffments, in hereditaments, and even as farre as in pointes of honor for the making of peace.

I omit those publique respects wich concerne the [Page 132]substance of government. In matters of benefices so abstruse and various, in all kinde of Ecclesiastike controversies, it is a strange thing that his foote ne­ver trode awry, no not so much as that the whole Court of Rome could ever finde any thing in his judgments that was fit for reproofe. But as oft as it happened that things went to consultation, although to the famous universities and colledges, if the fa­ther were of a different opinion from those that gave answer at the instance of the partie, it was al­waies concluded in matter of judgment that the fa­ther had hit the naile on the head. In all suites and processes of private persons, his answers were alwaies taken for oracles.

And here I may summon the consciences of a number of people that live, to acknowledge this for a truth, and whether in all those consultations which surpasse thousands, he hath ever beene knowne to erre in his judgment. This is the disad­vantage of him that writes the life of this divine soule, that those things which seeme hyberpolicall, and meerly Rhetoricall, come not neare the ex­pression of that which is, & which was more in fact then can be related. Of matters of government it will not be necessarie to say more then what the most excellent Senate (the very Idea of politique Christian prudence) knowes. Another thing was rare in him, that having yielded his service freely in private causes as well of the Church as secular (as if guifts had had a power of enchantment according to that fiction of the poets Muneribus Divi placantur and thereby an administration given to all men to take heede of receiving them, so he would never re­ceive [Page 133]a recognition from any man, whatsoever, not of the least valew, as others in the like kinde did or would have done, and some have enricht themselves by great summes of money that have not taken paines to the tenth part of his employment. Besides many who understanding his merits, have attempted to fix a guift upon him; yet to the glorie of God and of this excellent creature, there is no man alive that can say that ever he received the least gratuity, be­ing alwaies content with this onely reward of ha­ving done well, and if when God and the publique were served he had any spare time, he would not lose a minute from reading or hearing others reade or forming Mathematicall figures upon papers or astronomicall designes of divers instruments, which when he had after torne in pieces, it was to shew that he did it but to passe away time. The greatest part of his time he bestowed upon the new testament and upon the moralls. In matters of experiment the hu­mane understanding is unsatiable, such was the life of this father, singularly composed of active and contemplative, alwaies yielding to God what he could; to his Prince what he ought; and of that which belonged to his owne dominion more then he ought by any law but that of charity.

But yet neverthelesse, this is so pious, so holy an institute and order of his was not able to please the implacable, as it happens with engines of many pie­ces, and instruments that though the motion tooke beginning from some principall wheele neverthe­lesse that impression which it makes upon others doth not cease, though the principall move no more, nay rather that impression which is made up­on [Page 134]the lesser Pieces drawes after it with violence that piece which gave motion from the beginning. So in some governments the motion that tooke be­ginning from the Prince and was derived, and after divided among many ministers; followes and continues a motion in them, although the Prince have abandonde it; in like manner it happens con­cerning hatred and malevolence. That the interest of Court advancements take deepe roote with ma­ny that perswade themselves they shall doe the Pope a verie great service, and ti's growne almost naturall for men to shew that they having an affection to that which at first they tooke from others, (being none of their owne but fained that they may arrive at some end of their owne,) and so in progresse of time forgetting themselves become really transpor­ted in their affection, the like being also observable in the corporall affections of nature, as in infirmi­ties and diseases of fancy. So there were many that from the beginning, knowing neither why or wher­fore, but onely shewing a hatred to the innocent fa­ther, and believing that in so doing they strucke in­to the humor of the Court, and were thereby like to preferre themselves as many have done that have founded their fortunes upon that only foundation, and since have really entred into affections of hatred and malevolence, fomenting them by faining a false fame that the father was opposit to other priests, that in consultations he went alwaies against Ecclesiasti­cal jurisdiction, and this is at this day the very center where all their lines doe collineate. A meer falshood and well knowne to them that governe which they being able to carry no further, must now testifie to [Page 135]the glory of God, whether he served for a bridle or for a spurre according to the urgency of occasions, & the good offices which he continued to doe in fa­vour of the Clergie; and whether he were not a per­petuall advocate for the Jurisdiction and libertie of the Church. ‘ I meane the true Canonicall and legi­timate Church, but not that which is now usurpt and employed to the subsersion of publique governments and of religion it selfe. Because the father alwaies offir­med with a most intense zeale, that nothing gave so great an impediment to the progresse of the Catholique religion as when they extended their libertie into li­cense, and that this alone had caused and maintained so deplorable a division in religion,’ and some have been very injurious to calumniate him, that either in con­sultation or in his writings he went about to beare downe the jurisdiction of the Church, and to exalt more then was necessary, the power of secular Princes.

It is true that with a frequent zeale of the conser­vation of holie Church and religion he was moved to blame Princes as guilty of a great sinne, for not caring to preserve that jurisdiction and power that God had granted them, upon which subject he hath written much, and grounded it upon piety and ir­refragable truth. Because authoritie is given by God to Princes, not for themselves but for the benefit of the people, the Prince being but the depositary, the Custos and executor, not the Patrone of that au­thoritie to change or lessen it at his pleasure. Where­fore tis a grosse ignorance and a most wretched sinne not to keepe up, that which God hath con­fer'd upon them. And Princes are not peradven­ture [Page 136]guilty of a great sin & offence before God then out of an ignorant zeale to have suffered so great a part of their power to be usurped, and that they are no longer able to rule the people committed to their charge without continuing a change of go­vernment. The negligences of Princes in this par­ticular hath beene pernitious to the Church of God; and to all Ecclesiastique order. And whosoever shall without passion consider how far the father was any way a breeder of controversies that have beene in the Church, shall finde how he hath deplored them to be the true originall of all those mischiefes, which have now brought into the Church the most poli­tike mundane government that ever was: and busied the Ecclesiastiques in things not onely different, but also contrary to the instituted ministery of Christ, keeping Christendome in perpetuall discord. And the divisions at this day, that are among Christians so irrevocable by any other meanes then the omni­potent and miraculous hand of God. He held it for certaine that they were bred not so much by obsti­nacie in diversitie of opinions, and contrariety of doctrine, as from the strife about jurisdiction which after by degeneration, and growing into factions hath taken up the maske of religion. And as one well verst in histories hath observed, that good Princes from time to time have beene they, that have kept their jurisdiction most entire. But effeminate ignorant & vitious Princes are they, that have lost a great part or by their insufficiency suffered others to usurpe it, with such a deformation in the Church, and for a proose of this, it is not necessary to runne backe to the examples of the Constantines, the Thes­dosio's, [Page 137]the Justinians, whose Lawes & Codexes who­soever will reade shall finde this to be verified, but to those that are nearer our owne age, and to those whom the Roman Church this day acknowledgeth to be even the basis of their temporall greatnesse. Charles the fifth, Philip the second, and other catho­lique kings.

But this malevolence hath not beene unfruitfull to all sorts of men, for as it hath beene helpfull to some, so it hath beene hurtfull to others, because in the fathers life, and (which is more to be wondered at) after his death, it hath befriended many religi­ous men, not onely of the order of the Servi, but o­thers to the obtaining of degrees, and good offices, alwaies giving the foile to their concurrents, by saying no more but that they were affectionate, or that they had but treated with the father, and by this meanes they have supplanted those persons, that never spoke with nor ever saw the father even so farr as to be laught at by those that have knowne the truth of particulars, especially after his death: as of Alberto Testoni whom wee named before, who to obtaine a prelacy from Pope Ʋrbane by way of briefe, (which was against the law,) used this as a meanes. That it having beene formerly collated at a Chapter, it had belonged to a dependent of father Pauls, who had beene dead two yeares before. And another to exempt himselfe from the command of his provinciall, wrote that he had beene a disciple of master Paul, to whom the man had never spoken at any time, and another obtained a very faire absolu­tion for having brought whores to live with him in his Cell. for wearing pistolls and other things of [Page 138]that nature upon confession and conviction, and by his oenly excuse that he had beene in disgrace with the father, but all these are ridiculous levities.

Returning to things that are more serious. This hatred thus nourisht, brought to light a new machi­nation against the life of the father in the yeare 1609. In the time that the Cardinall Borghese (and before his uncle had ascended to the pontificate) studied at Perugia. Fra. Bernardo Perugino infinuated himselfe into his grace and friendship, and for cer­taine youthfull services, which he performed to the Cardinall, he being but a young man himselfe, and one that did not abhor the ordinarie gustoes of his age. He grew into such intimacy with him, that be­ing after made a Cardinall, he called him after him to Rome there to make him amends for the pleasure and service that he had done him. Whether the Frier invited himselfe, or were invited, goes beyond my knowledge.

True it is, that he treated with, and instructed a Frier of Perugia Gio: Francesco sending him to [...]ado­va from the Generall of the Servi, under pretence of being a student where he was after made a doctor although with very little learning. This man by the vicinity of Padua come oft to Venice to the house of the Servi, where he frequented much with Fra. Anto­nio da Viterbo, who served as a writer, & was very fa­miliar with the father. The privacy was easily obtai­ned because they were both of one state & province, and had beene formerly acquainted in their country. This practise began to displease the father, but his modestie was such that he did but cast out a word of dislike in generall termes only to Fra. Antonio, [Page 139]who in appearance seemed thereupon a little to withdraw himselfe from that conversation, but in existence and really they had private meetings to­gether without the convent, whereupon the said Gio Francesco was forbidden to come there any more. And yet notwithstanding they wrote one to another, and the letters were brought to Fra Anto­nio by the hands of a Jew. It fortun'd that the Jew brought a letter when Fra. Antonio was from home, and the letter came to the hands of Padre Gio Fran­cesco Segnira, who having received it, carried it pre­ently to the father, and telling him that the Hebrew had confest to him that it was usuall for him to carry letters betwixt them. And as that nation of the Jewes is very cunning, and timerous he told him, that for his part he would de clare himselfe to Fra. Antonio, that he should make him carry no more letters, because he knew not what the busi­nesse was, that was so secret betwixt them. The fa­ther caused Fra. Antonio to be sent for, and giving him the letter told him, that he should either give over his practise with the Perugine, or else to come no more into his chambers, for he would have no more to doe with him. He excused himselfe the best he could, and past it over with a jest, (which he was very good at) and for which he was esteemed good company, being reputed rather simple then malitious, and that all the reason of his practise with him (as he said) was onely to get a good dinner out of him. But although he was forbidden this commerce, yet it was not so cut off, but he follow­ed it more covertly, in the house of a certain gen­tlewoman, and in unsuspected places untill the businesse grew ripe.

[Page 140] Because one morning about breake of day they had a meeting and secret conference in the vestry of the Servi, where having beene a good while toge­ther, and observ'd that at their parting they were very earnest Fra. Gio Francesco pul'd out of the poc­ket of his hose a bundle of soft waxe lapt in paper to take the print of some keyes that were to bee fal­sified, which being heated with lying neare his flesh, drew out with it from his pocket a little packet of letters, which for the weight, the waxe not being able to keepe sticking, fell to the ground (being un­perceiv'd,) And when Fra. Antonio had receiv'd the waxe, they parted, he to the Convent, and the other as his way lay. The Sacristan that kept the Vestry Fra. Ʋalentine da venetia (who yet serves in that place) comming and finding the bundle of letters, tooke them up, and went with them presently to Padre Fulgentio, who reading them, found them to be in ciphers, & that it was a businesse of much im­portance, because Fra. Bernardo had written to Fra. Gio Francesco to solicite Fran. Antonio to dispatch the Quadragesimale, for that the foure hundred crownes were in a readinesse, and should be put into his hands, but that the twelve thousand also and more were as ready and secure.

In some of them he said that he had spoken with the Signor Padre, and another while Col. Fratello with the little Fryer and with divers others, and that they did all of them desire the Quadragesimall, That the father Generall of the Servi intreated him not to doubt, but that he should be beatified. That the Seignor Padre had caused all other Suitors, to withdraw to give him audience, with many such [Page 141]particularities, which being made knowne to Father Paul, you neede not doubt but he would quickly penetrate the importance of the businesse, but such was his meekenesse and mansuetude of minde, that hee exhorted Fulgentio to make no words, but to keepe silence untill the secret of this businesse, might more clearely be discovered, onely he added thus much, that there was nothing more to be done, but to put Fra. Antonio out of his chamber and out of the Convent. But Fulgentio was other­wise resolved, who without more adoe carried the letters to the inquisitors of state, telling them how he came by them, whereupon Fra. Giova. Fran­cesco was attached and first, then Fra. Antonio, and what ensued further in that secret judgement re­maines in their owne papers: The things that came after to publike notice, (and they are very true,) that of many persons that were named in that ci­pher of Father, little Frier and Cosens, It appeared upon the counter cipher that except the Generall of the Servi, there was not any under the degree, and dignity of a Cardinall. That under the Quadra­gesimale, there were three persons enciphred; The first was, that because the Father, by reason of the falling of the gut Colon (whereof mention hath beene made) had neede to keepe that part very faire and cleane, being every eight dayes wash't and sha­ved, to which Office he would never admit Barbers nor secular men, and of himselfe being not able to doe it, he made use of some Frier the most dome­sticke, and confident that he could finde. And this charitie at this time was perform'd him by the said Fra. Antonio, and to that purpose hee was treated [Page 142]with, that when he served him upon that occasion, he should give him a cutt with his rasor with a sure way.

But Fra. Antonio refused so to doe, either because he had no intention to offend the Father that was his most bountifull benefactor, or else as he had ex­cus'd himselfe both by words and letters sent to Rome, that his heart did not serve him, and affir­med that so soone as he should see blood hee should fall into a swound, as by nature it used alwaies to be with him. The second was that something should be sent him from Rome, to be given him either in his meate or his drinke, and this better fitted his fancy to be done, because with one beane (such was their language he might catch two pigeons, which were the Father Paul and Fra. Fulgentio. But this partie carried along with it many difficulties. First, how to finde a thing of such efficacy, and how it might be sent with safety: Then because the Fathers diet was of ordinary meates, simple and without sauce, and such as were common with all those of the mo­nastery, whereby it was necessary, that above thirty other persons should partake of the vertue of that drugge aswell as they, or else it would faile of effect, since it was now come to passe that every thing would be narrowly lookt into, and that they had an eye upon every one that came neare him: And he that should watch a tyme when they two would eate by themselves, would have a long businesse, and this stood not with that expedition which was prest by the letters for the having of the Quadragesimales. There were likewise some that are alive suspected upon a late accident, that they two having eaten a [Page 143]little quantitie of a cake that was presented to them at the table, they found themselves both very ill upon it, and with the same accidents, whereby cau­tion was growne verie quick sighted. The third (whereon they set up their rest) was that Fra. Anto­nio) which seemed a thing without difficulty) should take the print of the keies of the fathers chamber in waxe, and thereupon make false keies, and to this purpose the waxe that had beene prepared was to serve (as twas said before) the plot being, that as Gio Francesco had those keyes at his command, they should secretly bring into the monastery two or more murtherers, and by night to murther the inno­cent father.

But God was pleased to discover this great wick­ednesse, as you have formerly heard. And because he that was guilty was a person of as much cunning as could be found out, for such a purpose, and had prepar'd his expositions upon all that could be de­manded of him, which not being sufficient to satis­fie the mindes of the judges, nor they able to con­vince him so cleerly as they desired. The most ex­cellent councell often desired extreamly to see the bottome of this practise, and all the distinct parti­cularities whereupon they grew to give a sentence that Fra. Gio Francesco should be hanged by the throate, but with this alternative, that if within certaine prefixt daies he should discover the whole practise with a full exposition and justification of the letters, that then after a yeares imprisonment he should be under a perpetuall banishment from the most serene dominions with capitall punishment in case of contravention. Whereupon he desired that [Page 144]a publique minister might be sent to his chamber in Padova; where in a secret cabinet there were letters found in great number, with Ciphers and Coun­terciphers, whereby all that you have formerly heard was cleerly justified, and some thing else which was not published, nor ever came to any knowledge in particular. The piety of this government being such and so great, that they thought fit to conceale, whatsoever gave no hinderance to the execution of their most milde Justice.

But for all the gravity of the injury the father never forgot his gentle nature, but besought and pe­titioned many times upon his knees, demanding this as a favour in recompence of his best services which he had ever done to the publique, that for his sake they should not be made spectacles to the dishonour of his religion, inwardly and cordially grieving himselfe that his life should be the ruine of any o­thers. And it was believed that his instances and in­treaties were a great part of the cause of the said al­ternative. Thus this tedious businesse came to an end, which hath produced many strange effects. In the Church-men a most sharpe hatred and blame be­cause it tooke no effect, in the republique a most intense desire of the conservation of their good ser­vant, and in the universall a more glorious fame to see (beside other excellent qualities) so singular a favour, and divine protection.

But besides the aforesaid attempts of trechery brought into justice, the father hath beene adverti­sed of many others from time to time in following yeares, (not onely in private from such as were in fee for discovery) but from those persons that were [Page 145]interested in that state and government where such secrets past. And among these one was of a bargaine that was made to take him alive, and with a barcke prepared for the purpose to carry him into anothrs jurisdiction. But he never appearing but in the greatest frequence of the City, or because it begunne to be knowne that the Popes minde was mitigated towards him, and therefore it would not be so ac­ceptable a service as formerly it had beene. I be­lieve that for these reasons the plot was not attemp­ted.

There happened to come about this time to Ve­nice a young man habited like a souldier, but in his carriage and in his cloathing more then in his sword and dagger he seemed to be a Religious. He used all the meanes he could to speake with the father, who by so many publique admonitions was now brought to suffer none to speake with him, except he were first knowne by his name and surname, by his countrey and profession, or else brought in by some noble, and neere friend. By reason whereof he he could have no accesse unto him. But addressing himselfe to Fra. Fulgentio he used all the arte he could to be brought in by his meanes affirming that he had something to say to the father of great im­portance, which would be very well worth his knowing, and that if he might speake with him, he would lay downe his armes and submit himselfe to any strictnesse the father would impose upon him. But the father excusing himselfe, that although he he was not much in love with his life, yet after so many faire warnings, it would be ascribed too great imprudence if any instructed man should have of­fended [Page 146]him, as it hath beene lately seene in the case of a great Prince, wherefore the young mans great importunitie to speake with him was so much the more suspected, and the waies that he tooke did ac­cuse him more being (as it was believed) a religious man of the moderne order or at least one of their e­ducation, And therefore he would never consent to heare him. But being still instant with the father Ful­gentio with whom he thought he had bred a confi­dence, he told him that he was a neare kinsman to Cardinal Baromus, though fallen into disfavour with him, and that he would advise him something, that concern'd his life, whereof he would give him such instances as might assure him of the truth. Where­upon it was further resolv'd that he should not heare him, and then the father spoke it with some little passion, that it was a lesse trouble to die, a violent death then to be put into a necessitie of living in continuall feares, because mischiefes have their ter­minations, but feares go in infinite. So being able to get nothing but an exhibition from Fulgentio (ac­cording to his need) he resolved to desist in the bu­sinesse, and looking upon him, when he parted with a fixt looke, he said thus, Guardatevi da traditori, guard your selves from traitors, for you have very great neede; God preserve you for you are honester religious men then others would you were. And having made another attempt (but in vaine) to speake with the father upon the stayres of the pallace, he went his waies, and was seene no more.

One other particular to the like purpose must not be silenc't. The Cardinall Bellarmine with whom the father had some accquaintance (as hath beene [Page 147]said) and although their writings one against the o­ther were abroade in print: yet that good affection whose roote is from vertue and christian Charitie was not extinct neither in the one nor the other. He sent twice to him to present him with salutati­ons of love once by a Roman Secular, who told him from the Cardinall that he wisht him to looke carefully to himselfe, for that he had great cause. And by another time when Alberto Testini was come from Rome to a Chapter at Mantua, the Cardinall impos'd it upon him, that going to Venice, he should salute the father in his name with much af­fection, and to assure him that his love to him was not abated at all, And by this he desired him to take an assurance that a Frier of Vicenza naming one Fra. Felice (that lives) had under the title of the life of father Paul compos'd a famous libell and made it to be presented to the Pope Paul the fifth, who had delivered it to him (the Cardinall) to per­use, and to give him his opinion, whether it were fit to be published, and that he the Cardinall made this relation, that he knew the father very well, and that his holinesse might take his word, that the things mentioned were notorious calumnies, which would be dishonorable to whosoever should pub­lish them. Thus much Maestro Alberto Testoni told the father besides some other things. In offences of all sorts both against his life and his honnour (the calumnies which have bene put in printe against him, being infinite) which such a member of libel­lers thinking to please the humour of the Court written) and it hath so farre exeeded the limits of all Christian profession, that like a swarme of frogs [Page 148]in a muddy marsh, they have taken that embleme from their shamelesnesse, only to see how farre their malediction could be carried, yet the father never shewed the least signe either of disdaine, or revenge, one of his most excellent vertues which hath accom­panied him to his grave, was his meekenesse in such a perfection, that those of his religion with a gene­rall voice render him this testimony, that they ne­ver knew him endeavour any the least kinde of re­venge, and it is to be observed, that the authour of that famous libell whereof we made mention, was not Fra. Felice of Vincenza as it was reported, but an­other whom for his discredit I spare to name, and one whom the father might well have procur'd to be punished at his pleasure. But hee would not onely not doe it, but as long as the father lived, that man lived in security, with imployments of Ho­nour, but the father was no sooner dead, but that injury being resented by the publique, with other failings and wretched operations of his, brought him so farre into the publique indignation that hee was not suffered to remaine in the Dominions of Ʋenice. Philosophie and the very law of Christ can verie hardly eradicate a certaine pleasant itch of re­venge, and it is no small matter to abstaine from the action.

But this Father of ours, was arrived at such a de­gree of vertue, that when hee received the greatest wrong, he kept the same serenity of face, mildnesse of language, extenuating the injuries that were done him as much as twas possible to doe, alledging this many times for a reason; That such an one either had his braines crackt, or that his condition hung [Page 149]upon such interests, that he could doe no otherwise, after this time the Popes minde seemed to be much mitigated, and he was somewhat sincerd in the opi­nion of the Fathers goodnesse and pietie.

True it is that the Bishop of Tine being not long after called to Venice upon a processe form'd against him by inquisitors of theirs, that were sent into the Levant. His cause was committed to the consulta­tion of the father Paul who made such a judgement and relation upon it, that the Bishop was rather commended, then reprehended by the publique, obtaining divers priviledges for his Church, and for his person, and returning afterwards from Rome, and comming to Venice, he told the Father that the Pope had enquired distinctly of his successe in his businesse, and understanding how the Father had comported himselfe, he seem'd to be much pleas'd, and broke into some expressions, that from divers parts he had heard that the Father was a great friend to justice, and carried himselfe with much prudence and sincerity: And of the other side, the Father pray'd and desir'd God to send the Pope a long life, and that he might survive him, as hee was younger then he by a yeare or thereabouts, and hee would often say to some of his inward friends by way of prognostique that Pope Paul he beleeved had sha'kt off his ill affection towards him, but if he were dead, whosoever should succeede him, would revive it a gaine, because the effects of the past con­troverfie continued still like scarres, which in some some sort or other would quickly come into de­monstration, and he was not at all deceived in his judgement, (as will hereafter appeare:) But not­withstanding [Page 150]withstanding this malevolence, it was a thing more then certaine, that even at Rome among the great prelates, he had a mighty repute, and that when they had occasion to speake of him though but to satisfie the Court, and their owne interests, yet they discovered that they had him in opinion of a great personage, both for honestie and learning, and it is also certaine that Cardinall Bellarmine found much fault in publique, that so little reckoning was made of a man of such eminent parts, and said, that if he could have beene reconcil'd to the service of the Church, although they had given him but a dry flower to smell on (for those were his very words,) conceiving that the father had formerly beene deep­ly distasted of the Court because Pope Clement had twice refused to give him a small Bishopricke, the one of Melopotamo, and the other of Nona in Dal­matia: and he spoke it freely that he had alwaies de­sired to have him live at Rome, because he had knowne him, and practised him, and knew very well how greate service hee was able to have done the Church. The Signor Cardinall Forza beeing a Prince of such a sublimity of vertue and blood as tis well knowne might beleev'd to have had the basenesse of flatterers in abhorment; who to feede the humour of the Court prostitute their tongues (making them venale) to lying and calumnies) this Cardinall would often with much delight tempt another father Fra. Amante Buonvicino that was at Rome (Parochian of Santa maria in via) and went under the name of a Ʋenetian, and put him in­to discourse concerning Father Paul, seeming to op­pose him in it, wherewith that Father finding him­selfe [Page 151]to be too farre urged, would enter into a narrative of the Fathers life, of his Studies, of the poverty wherein he lived, with all the particulari­ties in which he was both wise and cunning, percei­ving how much the Cardinall was pleased with it, because when hee came to give demonstrations of his excellent piety, he would answer him with a smile, & say that those perhaps were but hypocrisies to cosen the world, but hee spoke it after such a manner that the Frier might well perceive it was spoken but in a way of upbraiding, or giving the lie to such as thought so of him, and thereupon he freely gave him the same reply which the Signior Ʋilliers now Ambassadour to the most Christian King, had done to two Nuntios Zachia at present, and Ascoli that was before him, who being often constrained in poynt of Argument by the too no­torioues truth of the innocent and exemplarie life of the father, would alwaies spit their venome, by say­ing he was an Hypocrite, whereunto the said Am­bassadour Ʋillers made them this reply: That the Fathers course was quite contrary to that of Hypo­crites, because they make all their actions to ap­peare clothed with piety in publique as much as they can possibly, although they can never goe so conceal'd but that they make a discovery of their ends to be but avarice, ambition, and temporall en­joyments, insomuch that the skinne of the lambe could never quite cover nor conceale that of the wolfe: But the Father never made any such shew to the publique, but lived in an absolute retirednes. He was never knowne to use any hypocriticall acti­ons, not to hold out crownes in his hand as he went [Page 152]through the streets, not to kisse medailles, not to affect stations and places at times of concourse, not to speake with affected Spiritualities, nor to use sordidnesse in his garments, but onely a cleanlinesse of attire, which though poore was yet condecent. And if this bee called Hypocrisie it is an unknowne sort of hypocrisie, which hath neither objectnor end, nor so much as a circumstance of either.

The dialogue betweene the Nuntio Zachia and Villiers was occasioned in this manner Mon­sieur Villiers is a Gentleman of great sinceritie, and of a most ingenious heart, but not very capeable of the artificies, especially of the Courtiers of Rome, which are the most refined of the world. Pietro A­ssileneo a frenchman was the Physitian to his house, who was the very sincerity and goodnesse of nature; and having beene a great friend to the father, now by the space of forty yeares, hee made it knowne to him, how every time the Nuntios talked with the Ambassadour concerning the Father, They spoke alwaies of him with such prefaces of honour, as if they would make him to be one of the most wretch­ed men in the world; at this the Father laugh't and would sometimes say, so it is fit, and so it should be, because I am the most divers and differing from their humour that's possible: And if they bee the most perfect and holy men, then I am the most lewd and wretched man that can bee spoken of. But he said yet further desiring to bee satisfied how the fa­thers life seem'd so scandalous to deserve such Elo­gies from Churchmen, and that hee knew not what to doe to give satisfaction to those great prelates, nor what to abstaine from to take away their sini­ster [Page 153]opinions, onely he wisht that the next time the Nuntio spoke of him to the Ambassador, he would interrupt him a little, to know what was his reason to charge him with such hypocrisie. His friend in­formed the Ambassador of this discourse who ta­king his opportunitie which happened to be the 16 of February 1621. when the Nuntio entred into his usuall custome of railing upon the father. The Am­bassador replied upon him, that from all other men he had alwaies heard the father to be much com­mended for his goodnesse and integrity, but with­all said he would be very glad to know from him, what ground he had for the contrary, that he might the better know how to believe those that informed him otherwise.

The Nuntio was suddainly surprised, with this demand of his, and durst not deny what the Am­bassador had said, because it was too well knowne, but desired to disengage himselfe, by charging his good actions and his innocent life with hypocrifie. But this foild him so much the more, because the Ambassador prest him againe to know what end he had discovered in the father, or what external action to prove him an hypocrite. To this the Nuntio knew not what to say, but was defirous to divert the discourse to some other subject.

But because all things tooke easie impression with the father, especially things of weight, the fa­ther after a little merriment and facetious discourse conjur'd an inward friend of his to deale plainely with him and to advise him of his defects, and in particular if according to the rules of holy Evange­licall doctrine he found in him any arguments [Page 154]of hypocrifie, acknowledging that a man is not better knowne to any, nor yet more concealed from any then himselfe, and that the nature of selfe flat­ry is not easily rooted out. Such dialogismes as these past betwixt them a little after those times of the late cōmotions in Spaine, & also at the Court of the most Christian King, betwixt the Ambassador Pietre Con­tarini and the Cardinall Vbaldini, at that time Nun­tio in that Court, This Cardinall did allwaies use to infamize the father for his publisht writings with odious appellations. Contarini on the other side, a gentleman of singular candour, of a placid nature, sweete and nothing contentious, but yet solide, made him this answer, that he himselfe was neither a divine nor yet a doctor of the lawes to maintaine a difference with his most reverend Lordship, but concerning the fathers writings he was well assured, that they were neither so ignorant nor so impious as the Nuntio had made them, which was easily by so great a commendation wherewith they were re­ceived in all the Catholique states, by the most lear­ned and pious professors of sciences, but concerning his life and manners, he was very certaine and knew it, not onely by relation by experience, that he was irreprehensible, and that he lived an holy retind and exemplary life. To which the Nuntio Ʋbaldini made answer, that by so much he confirmed him­selfe more in his opinion that he was a lewd fellow and an exquifite hypocrite from his irreprehenfible life; But Maffeo Barbarino that was the Nuntio in France talkt in a higher straine against him and with more violence cried out with poeticall am­plifications that he was worse then Luther or Calvin, [Page 155]and contained not himselfe from saying that it was fit he should bee assessinated. There he came to know that the father wrote to and received letters from some of those Lords that were councellors of Parliament, and from the Sorbonists who were very orthodoxe, and maintained the defence of the law­full secular power, opposing themselves against the usurpations of Rome, and maintayning the libertie of the Gallicane Church.

And true it is, that he did [...] write to, and re­ceive letters from Monsieur Gillet Peschasier Servino Richer Buniello, and some from Causabon after the fame was growne constant, that he was turn'd Ca­tholike. The letters were alwaies consulted by the jurisdiction. All men were heretiques with Barbari­no to whom the father either wrote, or they to him. But they that knew not how to convince him ei­ther in his profession or in his life, had that onely common place against him that he was an hypo­crite. A faire confrontation of the judgement of these prelates of the Romane Court with the doc­trine of Christ and his Holy Apostles, who taught us to know mens faith by their works, and the tree by the fruit. And if a life led with a marvelous even­nesse and constancy from his childhood unto sea­ventie one yeares old, which for his actions none could taxe, and in whose words was never either obscaenitie, nor so much as an oathe sworne, nor a­ny base thing but in his life a most exquisite pover­tie, a perfect observance of lawes, far from all am­bition and above all he was an enemy to all delights, nor ever shewed the least signe of avarice nor am­bition of any degree or dignitie: And if these be th [Page 156]arguments whereby Christ hath taught us to know Hypocrites, let it be referred to the judgment of o­ther men. But neither God nor humanitie will per­mit innocency to have so ill a fortune, nor vertue such a misadventure that fame and infamie should allwaies be at the disposition of great persons. The just man is like a palme tree, who raiseth himselfe under the burden of Calumnie. God was never plea­sed that those verie tyrants that had a totall licence against the life of poore innocents; should likewise have any power over their fame and memory. And if this were but in humanitie it selfe (without a mixture of any vertue) it would lye under too great an injustice. But because this marke (whereat all their poisoned arrowes were shot) could never be hit: his contempt of money being so well knowne, and that he had nothing but to suffice his pure ne­cessities, and those rather in defect then plenty, much lesse delicates of every kinde (whereof he was alwaies abhorring) even so far that to the last breath of his life he hath constantly beene observed never to have any other gusto then that which tooke his originall, and was terminated in his stu­dies and in vertue, and therefore his life was the most arduous, the most toilesome and painefull that any religious man was able leade; he being in his last seaventeene yeares like a recluse alwaies shut up in his chamber, except it were when the publique see­vice or his religious profession compelled him a­broade, and to live so sparing and so abstinently, and according to pure necessity, that the greatest part of his time was past with a little bread tosted upon hot coles, and onely one sort of other foode [Page 157]to his bread, which was both vile in quantity & qua­lity This was not [...]one to advance his kindred (for of those there were none left) but this ambition and appetite of glory (which among human affections is the last which is subdued) and the wise man calls it the shirt which the wisest men ever put off last. This is that putrid corruption whereupon all these flesh­flies fluttering up and downe the world, doe at last settle themselves. But against the assaults of this vice, he had an impenetrable shield, in so much as if ever man had totally subdued this affection of the appe­tite of glory, it was this man of whom wee write.

And first, for a certaine proofe that no advance­ment of fortune nor any credit in the world, had moved him to any mutation of minde, so far as could be concluded from externall effects, (continu­ing alwaies in the same, and his owne tenor of life, to which purpose he had alwaies this saying in his mouth, si Spiritus dominantis super te ascenderit, Locum tuum ne deseras; and in a way of rest he was used to say. That he that walks upon stilts, or fits in an high place, does not lessen his labour, but goes in a grea­ter danger. Besides that constant purpose of never writing, nor publishing any thing in any kinde of profession (being in all things eminent) and as I may say prodigiously perfect; shewes whether he were far from any such desire, and whether it could be done with any vaine glory or no.

These few things which necessitie hath drawne from him can well witnesse. He hath beene curious to conceale himselfe for being knowne to be the au­thor of divers sort of inrstuments. The two manners [Page 158]of Pulfiligio were of his invention, the instrument of knowing the variation of heate and cold, of that perspective which in Italy is called Galilean, and form'd in Holland, the artifice of it was discovered by him; when one of them was first presented to the Signory of Venice, with a demande of 1000 Chec­chines the charge was presently given to the father to make a triall what it would serve for, and to de­liver his judgment, and being not allowed to open it, to see how it was made up, he imagined straight what it could be, and conferred with the Gallilean who acknowledged that the father had found out the secret, and so of divers others. But it is a thing to be observed, that so many instruments as have been invented by the authors of the Mathematiques and of Astronomy, and described with so much so­lemnitie, that it is a difficult thing to make them, and much more to make use of them. He making them with his owne hand, and giving out modells to workmen, reduced them to such a facility and fimplenesse that one would have thought he had had both the heavens and earth in his head. It hath beene a grat prejudice to those that are curious, that in the probleme of the motion of the earth being an­cient but renewed by Copernicus, he had found the meanes Salvare tutti i Fenomeni with one onely mo­tion, and sought workmen to make him an instru­ment to put under ones eyes, for the discerning of it. I silence those secrets which were unknowne untill his age, and he was ever well pleased, that some of his friends should have the honor to publish them, as if they had beene their owne; which shewes a great moderation in this affection of his. And of [Page 159]things of his that are in print, what glory hath he sought by those, having used such exquisite meanes to conceale his name: One particular must not be past over, which was a firme resolution of leaving nothing, either of his own hand, or other mens that might carry his name or preserve a memory as may appeare by this that he would never let his picture be drawn from the naturall, notwithstanding that it were desired both by kings and great Princes. And although many of his pictures goe abroad for ori­ginalls, yet they are all but coppies of one which is said to be in the gallery of a great King, which was taken against his will and by a stratagem.

But for himselfe this may give assurance that he did not endure to have his picture drawne, because in the last yeares of his life being intreated by the most illustrious and excellent Dominico Molini, and likewise of his confident Fra. Fulgentio being set on to beseech him, yet it could not be obtained, so much as to give a famous painter leave to take his picture although he were promised that he should not sit at it above an houre. And yet he was solicited by this great Lord in the vertue of the friendship that had beene betwixt them, and by such significant meanes, that for the deniall which he gave him fif­teene daies together whilest he entertained the pain­ter in expectation, he grew so angrie with the fa­ther, that there past some monthes betwixt them without speaking to each other. And yet the deport­ment of this Senator, and the esteeme which the fa­ther had of him as of a subject in whom to be nobly borne was the least of his vertues & merits because of that exquisite learning which he had in Histories [Page 140]ancient and moderne,) a politike prudence most singular grounded upon a marvelous understanding of the state of all the Princes in Europe, both of the quality of their governments, and their interests, how they rule, and who hath most power with them, with all the notable particulars of their cur­rent businesse with all the series of their important affaires,) have rendred him conspicuous not onely in this Common-wealth, but with all others be­sides a certaine ardour in him of the libertie and conservation of his Country, and a totall dedicati­on of himselfe to the publique service, which had rendred him so intimate and familiar with the fa­ther that in seaventeene yeares there past but a few daies, wherein they spent not a long time together, and yet for all this he could not obtaine his request: so far the father was from every thing that savoured of ambition, which together with avarice are the 2 maine rocks that cannot be avoided by Hypo­crrites. But the abnorment which he had to live in Court, which he shewed first in his youth when he left that Court of Mantua and in his virility that of Rome, and having constantly refused to goe thither upon the invitation of so great persons, and such opportunities shall easily convince the most perti­nacious, that at least they should not dare to con­tradict Christ so-openly in this saying of his that those which weare rich clothing are in Princes Courts, and in these daies of ours it is well knowne where ambition hath her chiefest seate.

But in Churchmen it is certainely a thing most unseeming and scandalous to calumniate so rare a piety of Hypocrisie, because to those ends which they propose to themselves, to those apparances [Page 141]which are seene in them by that language which they ordinarily speake, they shew well enough that they doe but mock the world and very little believe that there is a God, while they pretend their lives should be esteemed either Apostolicall or Christian, and in the mean time condemne the father of Hy­pocrisie. But the eye of God makes a discovery of all hearts, and in the interim this shall be received for an irrefragable testimony that these men which were so apt to make a sinister interpretation of all things, being not able to oppose his actions, were faine to passe to his intentions which are onely re­served, and attributed to God by those that believe him to be judge of intention and the searcher of hearts.

This digression cannot be superfluous to them that will consider the diligence that hath beene used to trace the life of this innocent father and to finde imperfections in that faire soule for some further and hidden ends. But it was not the father that gave them this offence it was his doctrine, and in this matter the Ecclesiastiques were greatly guilty of of­fence, before God, and of scandall to the world by having given so great a cause to confirme those in their opinions who write that is Arcanum Curiae Ro­manae after it hath drawne to it selfe the authority of all Ecclesiasticke orders, and a great part of that of Princes for the making good in religion of whatso­ever turnes to their advantage, to assume yet further to themselves what belongs to the whole Church by canonizing persons, to canonize those doctrines and opinions of theirs that are profitable to their great­nesse. And so likewise to reprove those doctrines [Page 142]which make not to their pretensions, although they be both true and catholicke, they have used from time to time the artificie of calumnitating the the persons that have written how holy and blame­lesse soever they have beene. I doe not deliver this opinion for true, nor doe I consent to those exam­ples for proofe, but I speake honestly, and doe attest before God. That in the example of this father of ours, not the Church but the miymons of the Court have used this stile, and how much worse they make it, by so much they increase the scandal and irritate Princes, or else awaken them to make them see, that to calumniate those persons that serve to defend their just actions, is to condemne in ob­liquity the Princes themselves and a making the world believe that they can put a yoke of tyrany upon them at their pleasure by oppressing them in life and after death, and consequently those that were their good and Catholike defendors.

In the publike service he was so daily an atten­dant, so faithfull, and with so much fervour to the good of his Prince, that the most serence republique honored him with a thing that was never before granted to any of their consultors, that he might enter into all their archives and records, into their two secrets to see and manage all their writings and their government, to which honor he hath corres­ponded with so much fidelitie as they very well know that sit at the sterne, and in a short time he grew so verst and knowing, having seene whatsoe­ver he could desire, that he was able by the felicitie of an incomparable memory immediately to lay his hand upon any memoriall, or booke or writing, [Page 143]or relation, or whatsoever else was desired or sought for. He that knowes what is meant by the two se­crets of Venice may very easily from that alone draw an argument of a divine wit, and of a monstrous me­mory, because in them there are beside the publike reasons of state, the fundamentall lawes, the treaties of war and peace of truces and confederations, and of whatsoever can any waies belong to a great state, there are also all the great passage of all Europe for some hundreds of yeares, the changes and alterati­ons all Christendome, and they are it old books in letters of former ages which, are very hard to reade. And if fire had not twice derived them of a great part of that treasure, I dare be bold to say, it had beene one of the most inestimable things in the whole world.

Now this incomparable wit was growne to be so much the patrone of those things that at an instant he knew the places where to finde, and particulars, in so much as his minde was now become the very secret place, where without search any one might reade viva voce whatsoever was either of necessity or curiosity to be knowne. And that this important benefit might not be lost nor perish with his life, he hath also made some indexes with so many notes and registers, that the use of them is now made very easie for all times to come. And the importance of his labour herein is found to be so usefull that the that the most excellent Senate have salaried with an honorable stipend the fathers writer, for adjoyning his consultations to the registry, which happily may rise to a little lesse then 1000 tractates and councells all bound up in volumes of perchment. [Page 144]And in those treaties either of their confines or their their jurisdiction which might happen during his service, the helps and instructions are easily found, whereupon the causes are founded; whereof I must not insist upon particulars, because it concernes the government. But the most excellent Senate know very well the consequence of that service, and what he hath revived out of ignorance upon divers negotiations which happened in his time Because the allegations in law import so much, wherein the Republique have alwaies beene served of the most able men of Europe, and which is yet nothing in res­pect of the dilucidation in matter of fact, which is gathered from publike documents which how much it hath imported in the matter of the confines of their ancient dominions of the Golfe, of the juris­diction of fees or the precatia of Ceneda and Aqui­leia, hath beene clearly proved in the treaties that followed in his time, by vertue whereof the Ecclesi­astiques were never able to prevaile against them in any thing of consequence, nor were able to finde out any thing which could hold opposition against the true, reall and fundamentall rights of the most serene Republique.

In all this time of the publique service which con­tinued seaventeene yeares, I cannot say that he was subject to more then one infirmitie which was of moment. I finde that he was once in the hand of the Physicians in the yeare 1612 which was the first time that he referred himselfe to their cure, except when he was constrained by necessitie of Chirurge­ry which was onely thrice, once in his youth when riding from Lombardy towards Padova in the very heate of Summer he was supprssed with a terrible [Page 145]squinancy, whereupon sending presently for a bar bour to take some blood from a veine. The barbour refused to doe it without order of a Physician, and the father not being able to over-rule him, but finding the encrease of the inflammation to grow upon him made shew of believing him, and agreeing with his opinion, but desired him that while he went for a Physician he would let him see whether his Iron were good, and he giving him the case, he tooke out his lancet, and presently set it to his owne arme, whereupon the barbor seeing his resolution did his office, and in a few houres as it is usuall in such accidents, he was free and well. Another time likewise in a voiage from Vicenza to Padova he fell into a suppression of Urine, which having not had his course for a whole day, he was constrained to use the help of a surgeon by the hand of Aquapendente But knowing himselfe a renicidence to that disease, he would be provided of a surgeon, and candles to operate when neede should require as he did alwaies after with his owne hand. And although Coll aqua da virgine, he was so eas'd that he seldome relaps't into that indisposition, yet for late yeares he hath sometimes suffered, and once among others with so much vehemency that making triall as he had for­merly done, and not able to helpe with his owne hand, he held himselfe to be but a dead man, and immediately with a true tranquility and setlednesse of his minde, he received the sacrament saying, Questo é da facere poi si pensara al rimanente. This must now be done and after we shall thinke of the rest, but he could not helpe himselfe as he had done at other times. In the meane time Fra Fulgentio ha­ving without his knowledge fetcht Carto Scivo [...] and [Page 146] Lingi Ragosa that were famous in that profession, the businesse ended with mirth, for so soone as they were come to his presence, & he had had some dis­course of the disease, they desired him that since he had not helpe by his owne hands, that he would give them leave to trie theirs. So rising up upon his feete without any shew of trouble, he said. But must I make a triall in your presence, what will you say if I doe it my selfe according to art and like a workeman? and immediately he fell to worke with his candle, and so the businesse ended being well laught at.

Yet the father knew very well that age decreaseth strength and changes the use of the very naturall parts and instruments. He had also another disease growing in one of his leggs which troubled him for ten monthes, but for that he cut himselfe with his owne hand many times, and in many places were the aposteme made, untill it was well healed. A thing very rare in Venice.

But in those infirmities that are bred in humors which are occasioned by agues, he was never in the Physicians hand untill the yeare 1612 I know well what it is to depart from common received opini­ons in matters of speculation, but much more in operations, especially where it may concerne life, But I have not undertaken to justifie, but onely to give a narration of the fathers actions. He was so subject to feavers, that every little accident caused him to have long and sharpe ones. In which he go­verned himselfe very differently from the common practise. For first he would alter nothing of his or­dinary diet except it were from the more to the [Page 147]lesse. He would not keepe his bed, but rise and per­forme all his usuall functions, he read, he studied, he wrote. In the fury of any of his fits being in his cloathes, he would lay himselfe a long upon a chest, or a table but seldome in his bed. He ordered the houres of his owne eating, and would have his ordinary allowance as well of wine as other things, except (as I said) from the more to the lesse, when he saw his best time he would take Physick of his owne appointment, but simple, not compounded, as Cassia, Manna, Tamaris, or some such thing, which either he tooke by themselves, or else being mixt, he received them as he did his other meate, so much he was able alwaies to command his affections. He held an opinion, and profest it openly, that the way of medication in our time with a suddaine and change of diet, and living with so many purgations and receipts served for nothing but to make slow recoveries, and to hold a disease in credit, and parti­cularly for men in yeares, to give over their won­ted actions for many days together did greatly dis­improve them in the use of the parts of their body, and that for one to betake him to his bed, observing so suddaine and absolute a mutation of diet and ex­exercise was a necessary weakning of a mans selfe. And that concerning himselfe he was sure that he knew more then any body else did or could. And it was truly a rare thing that in so weake a complexi­on a convalescence could not be more easily dis­cerned. Many times it could not be judged whether he were sicke except it were by his aspect which ac­cused him, for otherwise he would performe all his accustomed actions. And with this tenor of gover­ning [Page 148]himselfe he continued to sixteene yeares of his age, at which time about July being in the house of Signor Servilio Treo upon a weighty consultation he was surprised with a violent feaver, that continued with him eighteene daies together, and begun by a strange accident, that it was not possible for him neither to take meate nor drinke, but so soone as it was presented, his stomach abhorred it. In so much as he fell into a wonder of himselfe, and see­med to grieve that he was not able to command, and as he said to vanquish a false opinion, when the fits came upon him in those hot dayes of July, as he de­sired that they would give him a little cold water, his stomake loathed it as soone as it was presented unto him, whereat he would sometimes laugh ma­king a jest at it. It was not possible for him to be without the visits of Physicians, because the pub­lique had commanded them to attend him. It was often in his mouth, Questo ho avanzato che mi convie­ne ad altri pui credere ai me cha me medisimo. This is all I have gotten that I must nost believe others of my selfe more then my self. But he would go no fur­ther with them then often to discourse of his sick­nesse, and propose some medicament, and of many that were proposed to make choice of some one which was proposed, to him by Santerio who had beene his ancient friend, and of a very strickt ac­quaintance.

The Physicians, and Santorio more then others held him a dying man, of which the father Fulgentio speaking to him, father Paul answered him that he was secure of his recovery from this sicknesse, but if he felt himselfe worse that the Physicians should [Page 149]heare more of him. Fulgentio replyed, bidding him take heed, because he might be deceived, for it was the opinion of Santerio that without doubt he should dye of that disease, seeing no amendment in him, and that his spirits began to faile, like a plant that beginns to wither, and that he knew the solidity of Santorios judgment why then (replyed the father) you had best believe him, and thereupon he fell a laughing with a witty conceipt which was spoken to another purpose by Speron Speroni who used of­ten to say Che ne si hoggi. And after when Santorio came to visite him, he began to jest with him, and would not let him feele his pulse asking him why he would now flatter him after he had peremptori­ly sentenced him to death. And when he prescribed him the milke of an asse against his drinesse, he slighted it facetiously by saying this is faire coun­sell indeed from a friend now that I am above 60 yeares of age to make me an alliance with asses, & so went on smiling. And doe you not thinke it a pret­ty relation for me now to become foster brother to that young asse of whose milke you would have me usurpe a part? It was also his custome that as in his sicknesse he never changed his course of life, nor his wonted actions, so neither would he change his pleasant and argute replies, which in in so distem­pered a bodie were a great argument of a full se­curenesse and entire serenity of soul. He that was so well studied in medicine was able to discourse of it as of his simple profession wherein of necessity there must be a tincture, but in his later yeares he was entred into such a diffidence that he seemed to believe no longer in his owne skill of distinguish­ing [Page 150]what was either good or hurtfull. And whereas formerly he was taxed that ever and anone he took some medicament for preservation of his health, af­terwards he would receive none at all upon any condition, except some locale medicines, and those upon great necessity.

From his very youth his learning had rendred him famous in all the parts of Europe, from whence it happened that so many persons of valew that came to Venice (and the condition of that Citty drawes to it from all parts the greatest subjects) tooke great content to looke upon him; and many to re­ceive into their bookes which they call Albus amico­rum, some sentence of his which is a thing very much in use beyond the mountaines, and he used to doe it alwaies with some notable ancient sentence or else of divine scripture. But the occasion of the interdict a controversie betwixt two so great Prin­ces of Italy, (and wherein by way of accommoda­tion the two Kings of France and Spaine, the Empe­rour and all the other potentates of Christendome were entred not onely by notice but by participati­on) made him very famous, & desired to be seene of divers great persons who made it not the least mo­tive of their peregrinations, and was a cause that he was knowne of all the learned men in Europe, but es­pecially of those that make profession of defending the lawfull authoritie of Princes. He was visited by letters from the most learned that were in France, Gillot, Leschassier, Salmario, Richer, Boviel Causabon, many Princes have likewise honored him with their letters and by the visits of their sonnes sent into Ita­ly, and in what esteeme he was with them may be [Page 151]seene by their letters if it be not thought affection: Onely I may add this, that a great Prince sending his sonne into Italy put it into his instructions that he should not faile to visite Orbis terrarum ocellum giving that title to the father. And when the Am­bassadour of the Holland estates Signor Arseus came to Venice, having used all meanes possibly to have a sight of him he was satisfied therein, being brought into the Antisecret to heare the answer read that was given him by the most excellent Senate to his denialls (as it is the course) and having seene the father as he crost the chamber to goe to his place, he said to that Senator that bare him company, the illustrio Signor Guistimano, that he was so well plea­sed to have seene that great man the most conspicu­ous of all Europe that he should be well satisfied to returne home againe to his Country, although he had obtained none of his demands from the repub­lique, and thinke the labour and expense of his journey very well bestowed. I have knowne further also by very good information, that he was sought to, and invited from two crowned heads, if he would have accepted their service in things of grea­test importance by relation had from their letters to the father delivered by their owne Ambassadors then resident at Venice. But he with termes of ac­knowledgment due to so great Princes refused to depart from the service of his naturall soveraigne whereunto God had called him.

Of one of these meetings it is necessary to make a particular mention. The Prince of Conde 1622 be­ing the last yeare of the fathers life but one, come to see Italy, and desired by all meanes to have discourse [Page 152]with the father, who would by no meanes conde­scend to be seene of him. But the Prince did so be­siege him in his Monastery that he was oft constrai­ned to shut himselfe up in his Cell without so much as eating his dinner, because he would not come a­broade, and all the while the Prince knew him to be within. But at last breaking into some impatience and laments, that it was a more difficult thing to see father Paul, then to see the Pope himselfe. One of the gentlemen of Venice that accōpanied the Prince remembred to advise him that the father as he was a consultor of state could not hold any congresse with Princes nor their ministers by the law without a publique knowledge, and leave first obtained. Where­upon the father had leave and was commanded to let the Prince see him. To which he obeyed although with a very ill will, onely he would have their mee­ting not to be in the Monastery, but else where and in the pulique presence of some others, as if he had foreseene what happened afterwards. So the Prince visited him in the house of Signor Angelo Contarini a Cavalier who being lately returned from an Em­bassy into France, was by publike order apointed to Court, & to attend that Prince. In that meeting the father was nothing deceived of what he suspected, that befides the Princes owne curiositie he should be environed with interrogatories at the instance of o­thers. All the discourse that followed betwixt them is found written with the very conceipts and words that were then spoken and remaines where it ought to be. The substance of it was, that the Prince as he was of great birth which is very well knowne, so he was of a great vivacity, and and an extraordinary spirit, joyned with great store of learning, and was [Page 153]continually upon a tempting way to sound the fa­ther concerning the sects of the time, and chiefely concerning the reformed religion in France (which he railed on as pernitious to government) and then concerning superioritie betwixt a councell and the Pope, as also of the libertie of the Gallicane Church, and whether it be lawfull to make use of the service in armes of those that dissent from us in religion, of the excommunicating of Princes, and most of all who was the author of the history of the councell of Trent, which the Prince more by the instigation of some other then of his owne Genius was defirous to know, (such power hath the contagion of those that practise with some religious men.)

This flying discourse full of jumpes of provoca­tions and interrogatories seemed like a floting of waves that were to breake themselves upon the rocks, of rare, of briefe and of onely necessitated answers. His blaming of the Hugonets in France without touching upon the least pointe of their doctrine was by the father diverted with a singular dexteritie, representing to his memory the valour and prudence of his father and grandfather whereof the Prince being very intelligent, did quickly per­ceive what that signified.

Concerning the difference of superioritie be­tweene the Pope and Councells, from that he disentangled himselfe by putting him in minde of the Sorbonne, and the alteration and depravation of that state since the admission of the Jesuits into France, and the difference which is betwixt the an­cient and moderne Sorbonits without touching a­ny thing of the superiority which the Prince had most desired. And likewise the liberties of the Gal­licane [Page 154]Church, that he past over in generall termes, saying that the Parliaments of France, and the Sor­bon it selfe have maintained these liberties, as the naturall rights of all the churches, but in France they have beene better defended then elsewhere from the usurpations of others. As for the making use of the armes of those that differ from us in religion, he said no more, but that Pope Giulio the second served himselfe in Bolognia of Turkes, and Paul the fourth of the Grisons at Rome, calling them Angels sent from God to defend him, and yet that they were but Heretiques. More largely they continued their discourse of the excommunications of Princes and the father reduced the Prince to the history of Gregory the seaventh, of this side the Alpes, and par­ticularly in France making him confesse that he had seene the private writings and also of the states upon the like subject, where if the Popes had not preten­ded so far, that Princes should not heare masse nor be present at other offices, perhaps the controversies had not growne so hot. But the point was, whether Princes had a cause of complaint, that under pre­tences of excommunications which are spirituall paines, they should suffer their subjects to rebell against them, and be disobliged of their fidelities and subjection which is due to them by lawes both naturall and divine, and stirring up warres, and sedi­tions against them as far as to lay waite for their lives, and take away their crownes and scepters.

To the point of the author of the councell of Trent the father told him that he knew well, that he himselfe was the man that had divulged it in France to be his, and had also told asmuch to the [Page 155]Ambassador of Ʋenice, then resident with his Christian Majesty, whereupon the Ambassador was constrained to write of it to the publique, and fur­ther he did not answer him, but onely this; That at Rome it was well enough knowne who was the au­thor, and after this with all his windings and tur­nings he could get no more out of him.

He that shall consider throughly of these pointes, and that knowes the father, and knowes the Prince well, though of an elevated spirit, will give his judgment upon the report that was after divulged, I believe rather from others then from the Prince himselfe who gave it out that he had confounded the father, and reduced him to such a streightnesse, that he knew not what to say. But as there is no­thing in the world without his contrary, nor any thing so holy that is not subject to a sinister inter­pretation after the father was in publike employ­ment, and that his actions begunne to be more ob­served, and commented upon, it behooved him to restraine himselfe from such vertuous commerces, wherein he was formerly frequent, although the oc­casions were lesse frequent. Because those that were ill affected to him, made it a conclusion, that he had no sincere sence in the Romane religion, because he treated with such indifferency and moderation, not enquiring into occult things that pertained not to him, and that he was now growne more sensible of such defamations then he had been formerly: did arise from this consideration (& he spake itopenly) because heretofore he had onely treated of things of his owne interest: but that being now a servant of the Republique it was fit he should deny himself the [Page 156]pleasure of those learned conversation, with this reason that those impostures which were put upon him as a minister of state might not redound to the publike prejudice. But his constancy in the purity of religion, hath no neede of a defence, nor is it needfull to make a digression upon that. Onely I shall touch this particular whereof so many men yet living are able to make faith, and which whoso­ever goes about to deny shall finde too many adver­saries to contend with.

One notable inconvenience from the imprudence of those writers that favoured the Ecclesiasticall cause, in the the yeare 1606, was this; That the cause being pure, and meerely temporall, and mat­ter of Jurisdiction, they procured by all their cun­ning to represent it as a point of religion thinking that to be their absolute advantage, not seeing how they could otherwise defend it, or at least insinuate it to be defensible either at Court or among the people. In the zeale of this course they did so far surpasse the streight line of veritie and conscience, that they grew to publish in conference, in their pulpits, and in printe, that at Venice they were re­solved to change religion, having begunne by the denying of obedience to the Bishop of Rome, and by a manifest schisme, it is not much to be wondred at that this course tooke beginning from a swarme of hungry ambitious libellers that were meerly igno­rant of former passages. But it is more to be admir'd, that so wise and learned a Cardinall should enter into this dance as Bellarmine, Baronius and Collonna that had reason to know what prejudice such a fame (though false and now disperst abroad) might bring to the Ecclesiastiques.

[Page 157] In all Aristocracies, equalitie is by the necessity of humane condition most unequall, as to the abilitie of the optimates there having never yet beene a col­ledge or society so well chosen that had had not their dreggs among them; otherwise Aristocracies would consist of so many Kings, and the vulgar part of it would be onely among the Optimates. For this reason, (although for the defence of their libertie, there were in all their bodies and counsells at Ʋenice a singular concord, yet) there were all­waies some subjects of more valour and eminency then others that served as guides to the rest. Com­parisons are not to be admitted in common weales, wherefore it will not be fit to name any particulars But speaking of things in generall it was a grace and providence of almighty God that those which were the most resolute and disposed to this Com­mon defence, were the greatest not onely in nobili­ty, honors, experience, hability, and activity, but even for piety and religion. A part of them are yet alive, most eminent Senators, and for puritie and reale of holy religion knowne above all others. The rest of them are past away from hence, by a most re­ligious death to the glory of the blessed.

The said Ecclesiastike shot all their cursed darts especially against these men as the most high and conspicuous objects taxing them for innovators of religion, charging them with a designe of making the common weale revolt to the protestant religion. The Oltramontanes, that were most attentive to the successe of these passages, and to the setling of so famous a controversie did greedily reade and re­ceive whatsoever came abroade, believing all to be [Page 158]true that came from the Ecclesiasticks with such asse­verations, that the serene republique was about to de­ny obedience to the Pope, and ready to change reli­gion because those that were the chiefe in govern­ment, had the same designe. And those that were the greatest zelots among them, assured with hopes of enlarging their religion, and having observed that upon all those occasions, which the Church of Rome had taken to excommunicate Princes, and in­terdict states, there ever followed some notable re­volts, thought fit it should be fomented with a hope (which they had already conceived) of a change, and the Princes of Italy failed not to procure a strikt intelligence with the republique, who when they saw the King of Spaine declare himselfe protector of the Ecclesiasticke partie, were constrained for reason of good government to heare all, and adhere onely to those whose interest was conjoyned with their owne. And divers private Doctors were not wan­ting to send out pamphlets, which for any diligence that could be used in such a confusion were impossi­ble to be so supprest, but that they were also recei­ved at Venice. The scope whereof was to give col­lour and credit to that change which the Ecclesi­astiques gave out to be in hand. The heads of all were to propose that the Pope excercised an intol­lerable tyrany over the soules and bodies of those that were subject to him, and to shew the great happinesse that those estates enjoyed that had quit their obedience and might enjoy the goods and lands which were left by pious Christians to pious uses, which were either imployed to a right use, or else enjoyed by the people of the countrey to a com­mon [Page 159]benefit, whereas in those states that are under the papacy, there was seene an abhominable usurpa­tion, a venality and publique theevery, and which was more, those goods conferred upon seditious men, and enemies to those very states where they placed, the Popes being arived at this quint-essence of subtlety to maintaine in all their dominions a formidable faction which for the most part is de­fraied by the purse of those very states whose de­struction and desolation they had in designe. That their religion was the same which was contained in holy scripture, in generall councels and in the holy fathers of the five first ages, agreeing with the Church of Rome in all the old articles of faith, onely their discord is in those that are of their late invention which if any man will examine one by one, he shall finde that they make very little to the glory of God, but to the gayning of riches, and reputation and of mundane Jurisdiction to the Ecclesiasticke or­der.

They further insinuated that the Romane religi­on was insensibly abastarded, and that nothing else was reduced to religion, but that which makes for the interest and benefit of the Court. They made a collection of the intollerable grievances of Princes who for the present make lamentable and continuall complaints. They descended to the par­ticulars of the serene republique which confining upon the Turks for above eight hundred miles, and as much upon the house of Austria, and with the Pope very few miles which were nothing but of sand and sea-shore, yet they received more offence from that side and more trouble of jurisdiction in one [Page 160]moneth, then from both the others in ten yeares, be­sides other continuall troubles with their Nuncio's, who where they come to treat with their Prince, they doe it with so much insolencie and soveraign­ty, as if he were not onely their subject, but their slave, carrying still before them the head of Medusa, the pretence of Religion, to fright the timerous: And the greatest Politicians that ever were, are not able to penetrate the profundity of the Arcana of the Papacie, by his mischiefe, which was meerely caused by the Ecclesiastiques themselves, and was by them attributed afterwards to those eminent subjects in Venice, that were the principall maintai­ners of the publick cause.

But still the Father was hee on whom the blame was laid. He it was (if we believe the Courtiers) that excited Protestants to put forth bookes to illu­minate the people. He it was that counselled these great men to a necessity of a change of Religion, un­der pretence that the Popes were growne to such a greatnesse, that nothing could serve their turnes but the servitude of all Italy.

But if ever any thing were false and calumnious, it is this; and although the Father seem'd not much to regard their defamations, yet so farre as it con­cern'd the declaring of himself, touching the provi­sions that were to be made from time to time with the Senators, he gave his opinion & counsel viva ve­ce, and vehemently upon all occurrents, and oft in writing upon innumerable counsels, having alwaies taught and inculcated, that not only for truth and conscience sake, but even for necessity and reason of good government, every faithfull man, but most [Page 161]of all Princes ought to invigilate to the mainte­nance and conservation of Religion. Hee affirm'd that to this end God had constituted Princes as his Lieutenants in those states wherein the Church was planted, and conferr'd their greatnesse upon them, to make them Protectors, Defendors, Conserva­tors, and Nurses of holy Church, as sacred Scri­ptures make mention, in which calling, the greatest of them can never give a sufficient discharge of him­self, except it be by a continuall and vigilant care in matters of Religion. That God by hissingular grace had placed them in this Catholique Apostolick Romane Holy Church, for which they were bound to acknowledge his divine favour, and render him continuall thanks. No greater misfortune being able to befall them from Heaven, then that they should abandon or forsake it. And howbeit there be many abuses, yet that is not to bee imputed to the fault of Religion, but of them that abuse it. And all this being most true and undeniable, no man ought to suffer himselfe to bee shaken in his confidence, nor the Prince to give way that a chang or alteration should be so much as spoken of. That perfection, and absolute purity, is the very Termi­nus whereunto the Church, and every faithfull man ought to pretend, though it be not the path where­in alwayes they tread. Those Churches which were founded by the Apostles themselves, and where they preach't and resided, were not exempt from imperfections, whereof the Epistle to the Ga­lathians gives a clear testimony, but more clearely that to the Corinths. That as for their charity some adhered to Peter, others to Paul, others held of A­pollo, [Page 162]with schisme and express division from Christ. As for opinions, there were some that denied the Resurrection. As for concord, they drew their pleadings and differences to the Tribunals of Infi­dels. As for manners, they had fornication among them, such as was unheard of among the Idolaters. As for customes, the supper of the Lord was conver­ted into banquets, where some were drunke, and others hungry. And yet all this while the Apostle acknowledgeth them to be a true Church, and a body of Christ. How much more ought we then to stand firme in the Church, where God by his singular grace hath setled us, although in the Go­vernment thereof there be imperfections and abu­ses, which are also since converted into intollerable grievances.

But if at this day those evils have gotten grouth, the fault will be found to bee in the Princes them­selves, who having little regard to the divine Pre­cept, which so straightly obliges to take knowledge of Gods most holy Law, and of Religion, but have altogether neglected this duty, as if Religion were a thing that did not concerne them, and as if they were not to render an account to God, neither for themselves, nor their subjects, by neglecting the care and defence of it against the divine precepts of Gods Word, the doctrine of holy Councels and Fathers, and the use of pious Princes, contenting themselves with a Religion, without knowing what it is, nor how it should bee kept from corruption, tolerating for their owne interests, their adulation, and connivancies, the cosenage of the people with continuall alterations, under colour of devotion [Page 163]and piety, with a dayly license, not onely to religi­ous men, but to all sorts of persons, to invent new orders to their owne gaine, and greatnesse, with­out considering that every custome carries his cre­dit along with it, and so Religion becomes chan­geable, and accommodated to the advancements of them that manage it. And these ordinary alterati­ons being received, the Princes themselves have to­lerated them, and so they have agreed with posteri­ty for approbation, by an authority which time and custome had put upon them. A thing that hap­pens in the greatest part of humane affaires, but most in Religion where the vulgar are the inventers of superstition. The Pope, beside that he is the head of Religion, is also a Prince, and one that from a­bove 500 yeares to this day hath aspired to the Mo­narchy of Italy, whereunto he is so neare a neigh­bour: And what wonder can be made of it, if he practise all the meanes he can to enlarge his jurisdi­diction. Hee hath three great charges upon him; that of Religion; that of the Ecclesiasticall affaires; and the temporaltie of his Estate. And the Foun­taine from which all ill is derived, is in this, that his right is not well distinguisht from that of Princes.

There are also three kindes of Canons, of spiri­tuall things, of temporall things, and those that are mixt of both; Of the first, the care ought to be in the Ecclefiastiques, of the second none can carry the exercise beyond their owne temporall estates, and for the third, it is as much the dutie of Princes to take care as of the Ecclesiastiques themselves if not more. In all the life of the father, there hath [Page 164]not happened in the most sereene dominion any dissention of opinion in the least tittle, not in the first of these three heads because the republique was borne Catholique, and hath alwaies continued so. All the disturbance hath happened upon the second head, whereof the Court hath made use to the aug­mentation of their jurisdiction, and of their tem­porall dominion. From the third, that Prince is too ignorant and unworthy, that suffers himselfe to be excluded. And that the Court at this day more then ever, doe their uttermost endeavour to enregister and authenticate the exclusion of Princes: yet this is because Princes (having in favour of their cause such cleere sentences from the new and old testa­ment from Counsells and holy fathers, besides the practise of all times) doe not seeke to repaire them­selves. If at such times as the Nuntios and Ecclesi­asticks apeare mask't with religion in pretence, and the sacred Cannons (abusing the second and third by the first) and if those which governe, and are instructed by divine precept, would take notice what those Cannons were which concerne faith (which the republicke inviolately observes with high reverence (and those which concerne Ecclesi­astique affaires of discipline, and administration of goods, of secular affaires, and those which concerne neither faith nor religion, but the greatnesse of the Court, and that they understood and would main­taine in them the power which God hath given Princes, they would quickly pull off the maske and make those blush that thought so to abuse the good­nesse and simplicitie of others, and would vindi­cate themselves from that perpetuall injurie which [Page 165]is offered them, as if they had offended religion by defending the power which God hath granted, and the jurisdiction whereof a Prince ought not to suffer the least diminution, without being guilty of this grievous sin.

Of this pious sence of his, let that supreame reve­rence (wherewith in all his consultations and wri­tings, he had alwaies honored the Sea Apostolicall and the Popes) be an argument. Although in the meane time he spared not to set forth the truth in that which concernes the legitimate of power, which God hath given the Prince. But unjustly doe these men complaine, that would have church-men be without affections Erunt vitia donec homines, or of Princes servants that seeke the advantage of their masters. If church-men serve themselves of the pre­tence of religion to this purpose, let the other com­plaine of none but themselves, if they be not well e­nough instructed to reduce the opposites to this point, to make them see that the zeale of religion is not weaker in any then in Church-men and so to goe no further.

These and other discourses he used, inculcating alwaies the duty of every one for the defence and conservation of the Catholike religion, and not to suffer themselves to yield to any abuse how great so­ever. But the Court (which hath knowne his pic­ty, and holy course of life which began from his childhood, and continued without reprehension to his last breath in all those exercises of religion, which belong) not to a supersitious and passionate flatterer of the Court, or a fautor of reformations) but to a solide and sincere Catholicke and a man [Page 166]religious by profession) have neverthelesse gone so far with their calumnies (as to attribute that to him) which God grant be not found in many of themselves (an indeleble blemish) of having no re­ligion at all. God forbid that by the conceipt of these men a blamelesse life, and irreprehensible con­versation in the view of so many severe enemies should be thought to be the effect of Atheisme, and impiety and that the argument of this so great a censure should be drawne from the opinion of his learning. The divine scripture which attributes A­theisme to ignorance, to foolishnesse, to an unbri­dlednesse in dissolutions, and a being given over as a prey to their owne passions, hath taught it far other­wise. True it is, that the foolish and ignorant vul­gar, seeing some eminent subjects in sciences not to comply with their foolish superstition which are onely tolerated by their owne guides and canonized because they are gainefull, have beene accustomed to judge thus sinisterly. But it is a judgement is onely worthy of those that formed it. But if a profound knowledge of second causes doe induce us to a more tenacious reverence of the first (as Saint Paul teacheth) the matter is cleare enough. Besides, that those very Courtiers who having their eyes dazled at so great a light of goodnesse and science; are growne so injurious to that rare vertue, as to be frequent in such domesticall arguments as these that those that are fallen from the right hand and have banisht divinitie from their heart doe usually strike into one of these two extreames, either of a totall dissolution or a violent superstition, and perhaps never into the meane. Thanks be to God that in des­pite [Page 167]of themselves they must confesse the contrary of our father, in both these, nor doe I believe that the most superstitious, men will ever yeild him the commendation that either in word or actions he shewed any favour to their voluntarie worship or their other impostures. And to say the truth, how can any wise man comply with their opinions, and superstitious actions? which are the very quint­essence of humane fooleries and of highest injury to the Creator?

The necessity of publique employment had brought him into the knowledge of the principall men of publique government, whose vertues if I should commemorate, with their Honors due unto them it would be necessary to engage a volume of praises. Let it suffice that with all the Grandees of the republicke he was in the greatest conceipt that any private person could obtaine, nay rather, none shall ever obtaine the like, till God and nature shall produce another father Paul, who in that way of prudence, which wee will call conversation hath not onely arrived at that excellent degree, which the wisest have observed to have bin onely in Socrates, but hath gone beyond it, by conversing with, and admitting to his conversation all sorts of persons and professions, and of all ages, and hath got the love of all who had nothing else to say of him, but of the greatnesse of his modestie, humilitie, and af­fabilitie.

In all companies he appeared the master, and in the varietie of his opinions some went away belie­ving that he was of theirs, and others thought he had the intentions of Socrates. And although he [Page 168]were now growne into yeares, yet with the same hilaritie, and cheerefullnesse, that as he converst with Senators of his owne age, so he applied him­selfe to those young men of the primary nobilitie who consecrate their witts to vertue, and to their countrey with honour, which wee will call the Tyrocinium or the young Militia of state in the com­mon wealth, who are called among vs Savii dordi­ni, the wise men of the orders. To them he was a Treasury of records, a library, a history. Tacitus, Po­lybius Zenophon, Thucydides and what not.

Those eminent subjects will alwaies celebrate his memory. Pietro Contarini, Leonardo Gustiniano, Giacomo Marcell [...], Giorgi [...] Contarini, Andrea Capello, Marnizane. That flower of nobilitie of ingenuity and hope of his Countrey, that sublime with Giaco­mo Moresini Oh bitter death, that whilest I am writing hath robd us of this mean that was the de­light of his friends, the great example of those of his owne yeares, a great Patrone to his servants, great hope of his countrey and many others. I have reserved for the last place Signor Marc Tre [...]isan [...], because I must not passe him over in a word.

This Signor began an intimate friendship with the father from the time that he was created Savio de gliordini, as usually other did. But the privacy was so stricktly knit betwixt them after he had re­nounced his attendance upon honors, and given him selfe to morall Philosophy, and to all kindes of learning that might improve a man, that he dai­ly visited the father, who tooke so much pleasure in his company, that notwithstanding the great­nesse of his employments, he had given order that [Page 169]whensoever Signor Marco came, he should be brought in unto him which favour was vouchsaft to no other but himselfe. And this was because their conversation was now past into such a degree of friendship with a full libertie of saying to him, without offence when he came to him. Go your way Signor for at this time I am very busie. The fa­ther rejoyced infinitely among the other ingenu­ties, and rare qualities and vertues that were in him, at this veracity, and would say freely Lodate iddie che ho pur trovata uno che mi parla non in Maschera, praised be God that I have met with one man that speakes not to me in a maske. And verily Signor Marce told him without a vaile the truth of all things in Venice, the conditions of persons, their interests, their deportments, whereof he had ex­quisite information, but where he discovered any defects in the father himselfe, those with all candour. They call you (saith he to him) the Patrone of your affections. And I observe you to have affecti­ons like other men though different. This perpetu­all fitting in your Cell, and turning over bookes which are not legible to others, this shutting your selfe up in your study without ever coming abroade. This unrelented way of reading and writing (father) is a kinde of intemperance, as heretofore were my amorettes and wantonnesse, but yet with this difference that opinion gives a title of lewdnesse to one, and to the other names of honor.

He proceeded to tell him, that in this he seemed rather to be in a degree of obstinacy then otherwise because in a declining age he would not remit, but [Page 170]intend those travells which in his more vigorous yeares, he was hardly able to undergoe. He told him further (smiling) this is (pardon me) a kind of ambi­tion that raignes in you, and a thousand other lear­ned and facetious galantries. The first time that they discourst together, The father (who as his manner was to say much in a few words) said when he was gone. This trevisanetto hath a great heart (allu­ding to the littlenesse of his body that had yeilded so far to the greatnesse of his minde) and is very a­ble for great resolutions. But after he came to know of the friendship that was betwixt him and Signor Barbarigo, which, (let it be lawfull for me to speake of a thing that by fatall encounters hath raised it selfe to such a height that it hath wearied all penns) He was also willing to contribute something to so rare a worke. It was not fit that so high a fabricke of vertue should be raised at Venice, except this great Architect put his hand to it. And hearing Sig­nor Marco recount the various accidents that had past betwixt them, & a desire of a totall transmutati­on and transfusion not onely of externall things but of themselves: according to that of Amicorum [...]mnia communia, which is in every mans mouth, and per­haps never practised but in this example. Certain­ly never in such a degree as afterwards it prooved to be betwixt these gentle-men. And having deli­vered some excellent doctrines concerning friend­ship he did appoint Fulgentio to translate out of French into Italian that essay of Michael di Montagna of friendship which so soone as it was done. I can­not relate how acceptable it was to both these gen­tlemen, finding in their owne hearts and affections [Page 171]not onely those conditions of friendship which that great person had exprest with so rare examples set out for an Idea of a perfect friendship, but also to finde therby how far they had exceeded his descrip­tion. And there was nothing else to be done but to raise that fabricke to the height, which after among civill vertues was growne to be the right of mira­cles. The preparations to it were infinite, not ordi­nary mutuall offices, the foundation was a faith and secure confidence, that one might believe his friend as far as himselfe. The construction a meere chari­tie, which hath shewed the world that Signor Mar­co did in a moment and not by degrees strip himselfe of those excesses and inveterated habits of vices of lascivious delights and other things which had brought him to a poore fortune, because he would not be thought to be a waster of those fortunes, whereof he was now by the vertue of friendship made a Patron. And in Signor Barbarigo that had a wife and many children to be able in his life time to make another man the absolute Patrone of his fortunes, whom all men knew to be the consumer of his owne, and upon no other consideration save onely of being his friend.

But the father did not live to see the garland with which this fabricke was crowned with the two Pyramides which were carved and ingraven by the knife of all the judicious with a Non plus ultra. All­though in his life time he might see Signor Marco (in the house of Barbarigo) Lord and Patrone of all and knew by his speculation, that they having set­led in their hearts that rule of Amicorum omnia com­munia might also make an externall practise of it, [Page 172]in all and every thing else. Wherein his charitie (the greatest inventresse of the world) did after­ward put him in minde in a way to effect it, by procuration and testament so far as it was in the power of law to doe it. And these gentlemen have arrived at such a perfection of charitie that to die one for another (which hath beene reputed the supreame point of friendship) in a mutuall prepa­ration and readinesse, and not in shadowes but by effectuall presenting themselves to dangers, is a thing so far below their love, that they speake of it as a thing not to be esteemed, and wherein they know no imaginable difficultie. Many have suspect­ed that this affection could not last alwaies, and the father himselfe observing the violence of Signor Marco made a question of it. But being after ac­quainted with Barbarigo, if the minde may be called a Sea in respect of affections, and perturbati­ons, then this of his was a smooth sea and alwaies calme, and toward his friend without windes with­out ebbing or flowing an eternall tranquilitie, and a minde though without ostentive profession of knowledges; yet capacious of all things, especially those that regard humanitie. Then he changed his opinion, and believed it would be perpetuall, and said it was like the conjunction of iron and steele were the one gave toughnesse, and the other gave edge, and as it happened afterwards, I my selfe thinking of their friendship, which at this day is one of the glories of our Citty: and of our age:, have concluded, that if it were possible for a division to rise betwixt these two, it could not be upon any [Page 173]other ground then this, that if it came in question to expose themselves to any danger the one and the other would be he, and each would contest that the other should be reserved, both believing they had reason, being so sharpened in their charities, as to explicate, and confute each others reasons, and without doubt this would have put them to dis­cord, if charitie it selfe had not found a remedy of their being alwaies together, wheresoever any dan­should have happened, because nature does not per­mit that two should be one alone except it be by a concordance of wills. And I am of opinion, that that next to that degree already esteemed the highest (which is to lay downe, not verbally but really their lives for one another) they have arrived at that great point to which, as yet it is believed that na­ture nor morall vertue never came, but in this one­ly effect of an excellent divine charitie, that if it fell into question that one of them should be sub­ject to damnation, and divine wrath, the strife would be betwixt them which should take it upon himselfe and preserve his friend. In which kinde of accesse I finde no example in the course of histories nor in the redundance of divine graces, among mor­tall relations of such an affection in any kinde ex­cept it were of those two great Heroes, and divine men Saint Paul and Moses, and in a fable of a kinde of darke report of Castor and Pollux which hath but little to doe with this living and knowne example of ours, because they understood not what it was to be either blest or damned. And if among the Heroe­ique vertues there was found out an Apotheosis which is nothing else then an extension of vertues [Page 174]and humane conditions to a perfection not humane but chimericall and imaginary, then with more so­lidity by true and reall acts, and not distant from us either in times or places, but existent and under our eyes have these two gentlemen so well deserving of humanitie merited for having taught us a new way of vertue, and made us see that a sole consent in all things both divine and humane, is not a bargaine of wit alone, as hitherto the world hath believed it to be, but a reall worke truly heroicall and excel­lent, whereat love and benevolence can onely a­rive, not onely to be admired, and had in venera­tion, as an Idea of true friends, but to be reputed the tutelar powers or numen of friendship.

Notwithstanding it be very true, that to multiply knowledge, is to encrease travaile and sorrow, be­cause the poore Father, from the fame of his know­ledge, the dexterity of his wit, the charity of help­ing all that came to him, and of a goodnesse of na­ture to doe well, was become noe only the servant of the publique, but of particular men; not onely of this City, but of the whole State, and even to strangers, because in all difficult causes his opinion was sought and appeared in all things like the sen­tence of a divine oracle and to the wonder of the world that his answers how unpremeditate soever were yet so wise and solide to the most arduous de­demands, that upon a long meditation they could not have beene made better either for brevitie or speaking to the point. And whatsoever proceeded from that blessed mouth of his was fixt gold weighed in the ballance of more then humane judg­ment.

[Page 175] That which made him most admir'd was the coupling together of vertues, and with conditions which are not usually met in one and the same sub­ject, as knowledge and humilitie, prudence with meeknesse, retirednesse and officiousnesses, serious­nesse and pleasantnesse, argutenesse without offence, brevity and perspicuity, sweetnesse and solidity. But it appeares that science hath a veneficke vertue of swelling many men; but that is only proper to vaine and superficiall sciences, but that which is consum­mate and profound is on the contrary like an en­gine to cast downe every proud thought, and the father had particularly spent so much of his time in the study and knowledge of humane nature, that if it should please God that some forme were but gi­ven to his notes that he left upon that argument, I am certaine that hitherto, no Philosopher hath speculated so far into the knowledge of humanitie. And I say boldly that in all course of time hitherto, none ever arived at the depth of that nothing of hu­mane nature so it may be lawfull for me to call it) because the father himselfe said so, who esteemed himselfe as nothing. It is remembred by one that told him of his humilitie that he blusht like a virgin to heare himselfe praised for any of his excellent parts. And although he thought very well of a gen­tleman yet living, and full of philosophicall and politique learning, and an eloquent orator, yet the father avoided him what he could for this onely reason, that when he saluted him he entituled him alwaies Illustrissimo Padre which was done with re­spect to his vertue and merit, and not according to [Page 176]complements. And he resolved that his friend Ful­gentio should acquainte him with his dislike of those salutations but the gentleman answered him againe. To whom then can that title be due? if it be not due to that angell of heaven. And alwaies when he made enquiry of his health, or how he did, he would doe it in that or the like sort. How does, or what does that Angell of Paradise? This was all the fruit of his great studies, which were not ad­drest to ostentation but to true wisdome, to the cultivating of his minde (which is the greatest feli­city of this life) and to humility.

Prudence for the most part makes men some­what rigide, and difficall to be treated with, and truly in former times the father hath beene taxed of such defects, and he himselfe in his anatomy of his affections and defections, where it appeares that he had listed them all for a combate and for a victory to be had over them (which he had designed) and there he acknowledge him selfe to be severe inoffi­cious, and hard to please. But he had now so van­quisht those dispositions that his affabilitie and mildnesse was growne to be singular: his modestie so marvelous; that when he saw another in an er­rour, or that he understood not the businesse, he would never use a sharpe reprehension, but bring them to a review and confute them with so civill language, that he left them not without some con­ceipt of his owne propension to their opinions on­ly excusing himselfe that what he could not conde­scend unto was, by reason of his owne incapacity, which neither gave him leave to see the reasons that had induced them, nor how to resolve well upon his owne.

[Page 177] And for that officiousnesse wherein (it seemes) when he was in a lower fortune, he had been wan­ting. He was growne so prompt and obsequious, that if he could doe a service, or a courtesie to him that required it of him, hee would bee so discon­tent, that he could not conceale his displeasure. In one thing he was insuperable to himself, in activi­ty, and resolution, because as in things of specula­tion, he was sodaine and ready: So in consultati­ons that were to be put in action, hee was growne slow and irresolute. He would turne over, and revolve, and never seem satisfied, and this fluctu­ation still increast upon him, whereupon I am sometimes of opinion, that a prudence in medio­crity makes men active, and resolute; but too great an one, with an extraordinary knowledge of Hi­stories, and observation of examples and events, makes men timerous and resty. Or whether this this be a weaknesse proper, and insuperable by old age, or whether in the greatnesse of his soule, from that time forward, he beheld all those things so far below himselfe, as to make that a Remora to his activity. I am only sure that he was now reduced to so great an indifferencie concerning humane events, as no man could aspire to a greater.

Now I am in a kinde of necessity of defrauding the Father of that which should be the top and su­preame degree of his heroique and most perfect vertues, and which would make him to appear to be of an intrepide heart, and of a constancie which in a good cause were invariable, by telling the true occasion for which some Senators, not onely the principall, but the very prime ones, and of the grea­test [Page 178]Families, conceiv'd some ill affections towards him, which while they were alive, and some of them after the Fathers death, could not dissemble. Now with reverence to their illustrious Posterities, let them ever preserve this picture of the Father tru­ly, without either too much light, or in the purest colours, and let it be drawne over with this veile, That Fra: Paulo (such as he was) never had any e­nemies, neither as he was a publique servant, nor a Consultor of State, nor ever incurr'd the ill af­fection of any, except it were for a publique cause.

This famous man pleased himself with a writing of his, where he acknowledged hee had contracted the hatred of some great ones, and great in govern­ment, but yet such as did for the most part postpose the publique honour, to their own interest, and private commodities. Hee might have comforted himselfe yet further in this, that neither for pro­mises nor threatnings, they were able to make him decline the least point from that which was either of justice, or publique service. And it was not because he was ignorant how much it might have turned to his advantage to have done otherwise, or that hee had it not alwayes in his mouth Conviene fedelmen [...]e servire: And therefore he would doe nothing but what belong'd to his charge, nor more willingly then what hee was commanded by the most ex­cellent Senate.

But in a charge so universall, it is impossible that something of the publique service should not tra­verse the interests and affections of private men, which are a part of the body of government, and [Page 179]in particular concerning Ecclesiastick Benefices, and causes of that kinde, wherein they are blinded by their passions; for which respect the Father would alwayes say, the Common-weal chad need to have both a Divine and a Canonist among them; to which purpose, before his death hee had publish't a little tract, but to his friends he would say more freely, that no man could bee able for such a service, that had not troden under his foot both hopes and feares. The reason of which speech shall be best understood by him that best under­stands Government, and knowes how impossible it is to find a body so united to the publique good, in which there shall not be some that will hate and threaten, and persecute, when they apprehend that any one shall oppose the designes of their private profit, how necessary, and cleare, and just soever the opposition bee, and this for the most part a­bounds in Aristocracies.

The fervour, and totall dedication of himselfe (next after God) to the publique service, may take argument from hence, that hee was alwayes resolv'd, that by his meanes, nor for his sake, no controversies should arise. But under Paul 5. there was no occasion, because all discord was put to silence, as it was considered before. But Gregory the 15th being created his Successor, the Father had heard of some discourse that was used by him to the Venetian Ambassadours that were sent to congratulate his Election, that there would never be a perfect peace betwixt the Republick, and the Sea Apostolick, but such a one as the Father Paul should approve of. Whereupon the Father in that now [Page 180]declining age of his, was strongly resolv'd, rather then there should be any difference, not onely to withdraw himselfe from the service of that Senate, but declining the Popes anger if he should have per­severed (as not long after it removed out of his fan­cie, and there were no more words of it, it being the nature of that Pope not to insist long upon any thing; and perhaps in this hee was not moved of himselfe, but by some others, or else that he had received some more briefe and significant satisfacti­on then hee expected) to retire himselfe out of the State of Venice. And because to have so disposed of himself (as many great spirits would have done) neither his conscience, nor religion, could well beare, and to passe himselfe into a Protestant coun­try, had been to expose himselfe to calumnies; or if into those States where the Court and the Ec­clesiasticks have an absolute power, had beene without prudence to hazard himself againe to poy­son, or stillettoes, hee resolv'd to goe into the East Countries, to Constantinople, or into some other place, and made preparations accordingly. Hee desired to be inform'd from some that had made voyages, and particularly from an Hebrew, that had gone thither often by land, to bee distinctly instructed of every thing. He had found meanes also to have a pasport from the Port of the grand Signor against the dangers of that voyage, in case he went no further. He was also resolv'd to re­serve some provisions for his owne use, whereof he was a creditor, and had formerly used to ex­pend, and give away in almes, and otherwise, with­out keeping any for himselfe, and the summe that [Page 181]after remained in the Convent was about 1000. Duccats, and consequently he had all things in rea­diness to encounter with any adverse fortune, ra­ther than that for his sake, eitherhis country or his Prince (whom hee had faithfully served) should suffer the least inconvenience, although he were se­cure enough, that the Senate would rather have undertaken a war for him, than abandoned his pro­tection.

And of this transmutation he would speak with all cheerfulnesse, and say that in his age he should enjoy that which in his youth he had extreamly de­fired, which was a peregrination, which although in his minde he had much affected, knowing by Geography as much as could be known of King­domes, and Scituations and People, and by History their actions and customes, yet that seem'd to him, in respect of that which a man sees with his eyes, but a dark knowledge, un sapere in ombra, and the desire of knowledge encreaseth with yeares. God and Nature gave him not leave to prove what the successor of Gregory intended, Maffeo Barbarini Vrban the 8. who (as it was sayd) was Nuncio in France, when he was created Cardinal 1606. having given testimonies of an implacable hatred against the Fa­ther, by actions not worthy of a Christian, and by inventions most base and chymerical, which for reve­rence we silence, and not to possesse the world, that the petulancy of speaking and writing falshoods and calumniations, (a thing bred in the bones of our moderne Ecclesiastiques) is arrived at the very height. In this state of absolutenesse in all Scien­ces, perfection of judgement, without defect of me­mory, [Page 182]which in him was so rich, and more faith­full than ever was in any, and with such health, as such a complexion could beare in a person so con­tinually tired out in the manage of so great affairs, and without any relaxation at all, except sometimes in seeing his friends: He entred upon the yeare of his age 69. and in the end of Lent, in Sabbato Santo being in his accustomed place, which was a with­drawing Roome of the Senate house, there fell up­on him such a sudden coldnesse, as if he had been frozen, and withall a hoarseness instantly upon his voice, with a fearfull benumb'dnesse, being the first time in his life that he had known what a Catarrhe was, and it held him above three moneths with a manifest Ague; for all which yet he would not change his way of living, nor diminish his la­bour. An apparent declination of his strength was to be discerned, and he would alwaies say, that he was never well after that distemper.

But as that continued indisposition did signifie a divine admonition, it was also observ'd by his nea­rest friends; that in things of the spirit, hee was much more devote and attentive than he had been formerly, and particularly in meditation more as­sidual; so that, whereas before, besides his ordina­ry prayers, and spirituall exercises the rest of his time was spent either in making one of his wri­ters reade to him, or write at his appointment, or In writing himselfe. After this time, he had no more reading or writing, but precisely what the necessity of his charge, and publique service con­strained him unto. All the remainder was spent in the meditation of another life, and imme­diately he dispatcht Fra. Marco, who at his returne [Page 183]found him in his usuall place, which was before a Crucifix, at the foot whereof he had (as 'tis sayd) a naturall deaths head, whereunto hee was so at­tentive that Fra. Marco at his comming in some­times surpris'd him before he could take notice of him; and yet he was willing to disguise his devo­tion as farre as he could, because when hee had a desire to be alone, he would fay to him, that hee might goe abroad a while; because he defired to give himselfe a little pastime in making castles in the aire of Mathematicall conclusions, and give his braines a little libertie to range where they pleased. And when he was surprised at his devotion, he was alwaies ready with some excuse or other, that hee had either fabricated instruments, or figures, or the like. But before a Crueifix and a deaths head, it may well be imagined that he had other contem­plations more sutable to his age and ill affected body. Thus he went on, bearing up as well as hee could, till his entrance upon Winter 1622. be in then entred into the year of his age 71: when a manifest defaillance of vitall vertue was visible in him, and the declination of his forces gave evi­dent signes of the dislodging which this great soule (who in it selfe had never felt old age) was pre­sently ready to make from the cottage of his body. His stature was meane, his head compar'd to his body was great, because he was so very leane, that inwardly he seem'd but a frame of bones; yet his head accus'd him not to be such, but rather contra­ry. In the hinder part and upward it was round, and well proportioned, his forehead very spacious, and declining a little from the middle part toward [Page 184]the left side. There appeared so great a vein, that ending about the middest where his nose begun to rise, when it was full, it shewed as bigge as a finger, and when it was emptie it left a channell, where a little finger might be layd, and it would often change from fulnesse to emptinesse. His eye­browes were well archt, his eyes great, quick, and black; and in his sight till he was 55 he had an ex­traordinary livelinesse, that if with others he had read a Letter, he had sooner read it all over than a­nother had read the beginning. His nose was large and long, but very streight, little beard, and thinne, and in some places without haire, but yet without deformitie. Looking him in the face you would rather have thought it fleshly than otherwise. His colour pleasing, and when he was in health, was mixt with white and red, with a little yellowness, which became him not ill. His neck was sutable to the rest, only shewing meagernesse. Altogether hee had a grave aspect, but pleasant, and inviting one to treate with him. His hand was fair and very long, and his fingers seem'd to turne backwards, and were of an exceeding length. He suffered ordina­rily extreme cold in his hands and feete; for which he had not found a better remedy then warme Irons, which he carried alwaies in balls wrapt up. But at the entrance of Winter, his passibilitie in­creased so much upon him, as if his hands and feet had been turned to iron or stone, receiving from within no heat, and externally but a flying heate. His face falne, his lips that had wont to bee coloured, especially the nether lip, with a smiling kinde of sweetnesse, were growne livide. So it [Page 185]seemed he had chang'd his forme. His eyes hollow, without their wonted vivacity. Nothing could be found to keepe him warme. He had lost his appetite that it was not possible to finde that meate for him, which after once taking he grew not to loathe, and in that he grew to wonder that he had no more command upon himselfe. And although that at that age he had all his teeth left, yet he began to chew his meate with much difficultie. He began to goe double, and very heavily, scarce able to goe up and downe into his gondola, but worse up a paire of staires.

In his dreames that little that he slept, was no more of his wonted non-sence, or incongruities, but distinct naturall, speculative, and regularly di­cursive, which he that observed all things, did not onely observe to himselfe, but conferred of it with his friends, and called a rising by little, and lit­tle of his soule from the bond and commerce with his body. And thus much I doe not finde that o­thers have observed, but having told it you of so great a person as this, it may perhaps upon some or others make a refection. Now nothing more could give him entertainment not so much as to heare a a relation of the successe of affaires how the world went, wherein he had from his childhood a speciall delight even to this time. One onely delight remai­ned with him, in his waking after divine meditati­ons to revolve in his minde his mathematicall and Astronomicall figures, and he would say smiling; How many words, and how many wits have beene framed in my braines. He had all the signes of a soule that was ready to take her leave of her old bo­dy [Page 186]whose health beginning now to faile, was sup­plied onely by an indefatigablenesse of minde, so that he never forsooke his former charge, but gave answers to the exhortations of his friends, and the authorities of his Patrones, concerning the abate­ment of his travailes, saying; That this office was to serve, and not to live, and that every one should al­waies die in his profession above all the Signor Mar­co Trenisano (whose liberty and veracity the father singularly approoved) He would often reproach him of a manifest intemperance for seeming to con­tinue his studies and his travell as he had done at o­ther times when his strength was greater and that it was an indiscretion in him not to be sensible of ap­proaching age, and other such lilke things which he would heare with delight but yet without ever slacking or letting his bow stand unbent. Many times he had so manifest a failing of his strength that he was constrained as he went a long the streete of the Mercery, to leane and stay himselfe upon the armes of Fra. Marco. And he would not conceale his being ill but gave manifest tokens upon divers occasions of foreseeing his instant end whereof he spoke more then he was wont to doe not onely with a freedome of minde, and as of a debt to nature and and an indifferent thing, but manifest cheereful­nesse as of a long rest after a weary daies journey. And besides his ejaculated praiers which he repea­ted often with devout sentences of scripture, he would most frequently say Nunc dimittis Domine ser­vum tum, and to his familiars, courage my masters, wee are almost at the end of our journey. And up­on a time as he went to conferre of businesse con­cerning [Page 187]the government of the province, and Parti­cularly the time being at hand that they were to nominate a Prior in this convent of the Servi, the father spoke aloud to the provinciall that was present, and others. A questo pensarete voi here looke you to that I pray you, for I shall not be pre­sent. But he would often say to his familiar friends in a jesting way, that he should die in securitie now that at his death there could be no miracles done, because Baromus, Bellarmine and Colomna, and the Pope himselfe were so lately dead before him, and almost all those that had written of the Ecclesi­asticke part although they were so much younger then he, alluding to that rash way of writing which some men use who if a man happpen to die in dis­grace with the Romane Court, they write that same heavie judgment befell him, or that he was strangely dead, and that God had inflicted some other pu­nishment upon him, as if having formed to them­selves a God after their fancies, they had also made him the executor of their partiall and interested votes, or as if God had nothing else to doe but to punish and afflict such as were fallen into their dissavour, or that those that were united in faction to them, could be preserved from death more then others. And with such petulances as those their wri­tings were for the most part stuft.

But Christmas being come, whereof Father Ful­gentio used alwaies to put him minde of (being the most holy feast of the nativity of our Lord) with accustomed complement which was merely used a­mong themselves to salute the father by saying, Ad multos annos sancte pater &c. He freely made answer [Page 188]that this was the last that he should see, and that so seriously, that it was well discern'd to be spoken with more earnestnesse then that which he had wont to say, concerning the brevity of his future end. And no doubt now he began to feele himselfe very ill; and that he was in a high feaver because at other times, he had not used to change his custome for a­ny length or continuance of seaver. On the day of the Epiphany it appeared that his sicknesse trode upon his heeles, and that morning he tooke physick, which made him worse, because being cal'd to goe to the palace, he would not excuse himselfe neither by sicknesse, nor that he had taken a medicament (such was his modesty) So being called the second and third time, he went, but returned with a mani­fest impairement of his health, being not able for 2 daies following either to take food or rest, yet for all this he could not keepe his bed, but rising upon sunday about eight a clocke he celebrated masse, and went to the table, at the refectory, where after he had dined, came Signor Lingi Scchim to visite him, and walkt with him a pretty while, Secchim perceived that he was very ill, and told him so, which he confest, and that of necessitie he must goe lie downe, which he did, (according to his cust­ome) in his clothes upon a chest, causing a coverlet to be throwne over him.

He continued thus till friday following, betwixt such time and his death there was but another day, still rising out of his bed, and clothing himselfe and doing his ordinary function, as reading and wri­ting, and when he could doe no more, to cast him­self upon the chest, and make others reade to him. [Page 189]But his infirmitie being one of the greatest demon­strations of the greatnesse of his minde, deserves to be more particularly knowne, and I am resolved to set it downe with the same narrative, which with some other notes of the remainder of his life are come to my hands, because that proverbe seldome failes ( ze'l modo della morte e sincer [...] argomento della vi­ta, e leva tutte le Maschere. The manner of a mans death is an unfallible argument of his life, and pulls off all maskes.

Vpon munday morning being risen out of his bed and having put on his clothes, he was surprised with a totall defailling both in his hands and his leggs, on which he was not able to stand without support, nor move the other without trembling, which was followed with so great an abhorment of his foode, that if it had not beene borne out by the strength of his resolution he could not have received a cordial But this accident did not at all disable his minde nor deprive him of a fullnesse of judgement accompanied with the same memory, and that which was of most importance, his tranquilitie and cheer­fullnesse of mind never forsook him, in which man­ner he remained till saturday, comforting those that were about him, and alwaies intermixing some­thing that was facetious, so that upon the saturday he said to those that were about him, I have made you merry as long as I was able, and now I can doe soe no longer, you must cheere me up. The dis­ease was suspected by the Physicians to be the begin­ning of an epilepsie, & there were some that suspected poison. But truely there was nogreat signe either of the one or the other, but rather of a naturall re­solution and extinction of vitall spirits. And being opened aftes his death, there was found in all his [Page 190]parts the fairest conformitie that could be desired, except that his heart was exceeding little, and see­med (as it were) to be deserted. His stomack was without any thing in it, either good or bad, but without all figne of offence. The Tuesday after, he took his Physick, but it did him no good. On Wednesday he would goe out of his chamber, and goe dine in the Refectory, from whence to his chamber, besides the staires, was a good distance, and he went it supported by two, all trembling as as he went, but with his former courage. He ad­mitted all visits, discourst of all occasions that hee had used to doe, and nothing of his own weak­nesse, except with the Physician (and that very short) and so past his time, fitting upon a stoole, and hearing one read to him.

In all those dayes he made a most exact examen of his soule, with a totall resignation unto God, and with a heart as cheerfull as his body was af­flicted, and from those that were present, hee con­cealed much of his infirmitie, that neither by shew of griefe, nor voice of laments, nor intermission of his hilaritie, any thing could be discovered, except only by his want of strength, and by his ab­horment of meats, which accused him of a manifest relaxation.

I would have no man thinke that he had not a sull knowledg of his own Estate, although to Fa­ther Fulgentio, when he askt him often how he did, (as he used to doe in all his sicknesse,) and whether he thought he were like to die of this, he answered him, that he thought he should have a long sicknesse, and perhaps fall into a quartane; but to the Physician, his most cordiall friend, Signor Pietro Assilenco, when he first saw his ex­crements, [Page 191]he put his finger in his mouth, as men use to doe when they would have filence kept, and then the Father told him freely his estate, but desi­red him not to discover it to Father Fulgentio, that it might not torment him. But hee might have knowne it long before, considering the Fathers preparations, and what he had told him. Many times in his life he would say, that he trusted in God, that he should know when he was neare his end, but that hee would not speake of it to any but to Fulgentio, because it was to no other pur­pose but to breed confusion, and make them give over those diligences which God would not have omitted. But he did not observe that rule, for now he conceal'd his Estate, and did not think it needfull to be known any further then it manife­sted it selfe. On Thursday in the morning hee sent to call Amante di Brescia, the Prior of the Con­vent, desiring him to recommend him to the prai­ers of the Fathers, and that after celebration of divine service, he would be pleased to bring him the holy communion, telling him further, that he had lived in the poverty of the Religion, with­out any thing of his own. That whatsoever was in the chambers, was granted him for his use, as others had the like, and being in his hands, it was as it had been alwayes, at the free disposition of his superiours, and gave him a little key of a Cupboard, wherein were the remainder of the provisions which the Republick had bestowed up­on him, nothing being shut, but all open, except that cupboard, and one other, wherein all the writings were kept that concern'd the publique, which should not be medled with. Yet he put on his cloaths, as he had been used to doe, and spent [Page 192]all that morning in hearing sometime Fulgemio, and sometimes Fra. Marco, reading either Psalmes, or the Stories of the holy Evangelists, of the passion of our Saviour, making them stop whensoever he was entred into any devout meditation. Many times hee desired to try whether he could kneele upon his knees, but the freenesse of his spirit could no longer rule the languidnesse of his body. As soon as Masse was ended, the Fathers of the Mo­nastery came together upon the sounding of a lit­tle bell, and processionally the Father Prior ac­companied with all the rest (with torches in their hands) brought him the holy Sacrament, which he being apparrelled, and laid upon his bed, recei­ved with such demonstrations of piety, as could be expected from so pure a soule; and drawing teares from the eyes of all that stood about him, leaving an impression in their hearts of a singular ex­ample of a religious man, that was well prepared to pass to a blessed life.

All this while he would not endure that any bo­dy in th the night should watch with him in the chamber where he lay, which was observ'd by him in all his sicknesses, and it was not possible to per­swade him to the contrary, saying, that it onely serv'd for pomp, and to incommodate others with­out doing him any good, onely it was his disquie­ting to see another lose his rest. And because Ful­centio had shewed his resolution to keep him com­pany, and to sit up with him, hee rose the next morning, and put on his cloathes, though very weak, and would goe supported from the first to the second chamber to try (as he said) whether his sences serv'd him, and what strength was left him. But (as it was believed) it was only to see [Page 193]whether there were a preparation of another bed for him in that chamber. Whereupon Fulgentio told him; Father you make preparations as if you were to die within an houre, and yet you would hide your estate from mee, as if your infirmitie would continue many months; whereto he made answer; and why? must we not alwayes be pre­pared?

The Father was most observant of all kinde of Lawes, and among so many novelties of Refor­mations, which had been ordained in the ten last Popedomes, he accommodated himselfe with ad­mirable readinesse and facilitie to all, howbeit hee did not much approve of them, because things of custome (he said) had their remedies, but inno­vations are never without their mischiefes, against which we have learn'd no cure. But whatsoever was ordained, he was ever the first in the obser­vance of it, whereof hee gave an essay, that in the morning, being Friday, he would neither take meat nor broth, nor any thing else, that was not common to the day; and it seem'd a difficulty to perswade him to take any thing but Lenten meats, and in taking his dinner, he turn'd him to his Cook Fra: Cosiuio, and meekly said to him, doe you treate your friends of this fashion, to make them break fasting dayes? (It was not superstition, but a constant tenacitie, and an habited custome to ob­serve ordinations with all exquisitenesse, though the least, and not essentiall.) For this considerati­on he had alwaies entirely observed Lent untill the 69. of his age, valuing above all things the giving of good example.

The night being come, he was resolv'd to be in the first chamber upon any terms, and there he had [Page 194]three in his company with him. But consider a little while the constancie of a sick man. He was a dying man, and of a languishment by defect of na­ture, and that day it was necessary to put him in minde of his restoratives, yet hee continued all that night without speaking a word to any of them, serving himselfe of those things that were necessary from their accustomed places where they were used to bee laid. And hee was never heard to say any thing, except sometimes oh Dio.

That Saturday (the last of his life) was the only day that he remained in his bed, in great lan­guishment of body, but full strength of minde, whereof they took this for a demonstrative docu­ment. That morning the Prince of Ʋenice, with the rest of the Senate sent for Fulgentio to come to them, who being demanded of the state of the Father, and having answered them that he thought he was drawing to his last gasp without any hope of life, the excellent Signor Ocavian bon Savie desired to know how he was in his minde, and having an­swered him that in that languishing of his forces, the Prince and their illustrious Excellencies might know that in his judgement and his memory he was the same Maestro Paolo that for 17 years past they had known him to be, when he served his Serenitiy and the Senate, and consulted with them in their most arduous affaires. Then they enjoined him to enquire of him three things concerning the most im­portant publique businesse, which was done that very night at 12. of the clock, the Father causing his answers to bee written from point to point by his writer, and being sealed up they were sent and read that very night in the Senate, who precisely de­termined the businesse in conformitie to what the Father had consulted.

[Page 195] Now let that sacred Session, the mirrour of Chri­stian pietie, and politick prudence, by the te­stimony of two hundred renowned Fathers, and against the shamelesse and impudent slander which came out of the house of one the Ecclefiastiques, by the Judg, whether the Father not long before his death had lost his understanding, and his speech or no? And from this calumny so malignant and shameless, let the world give a judgement of many others. The very same Saturday he admitted vi­sites, as he had done other daies before, and the same night after 12 of the clock, the most excellent Signor Giovanni Basadona came particularly to visite him: The Father spoke to him, put off his hat, and thanked him for his visite; and after his depar­ture heard one read to him a great while with quiet attention. And when the evening grew dark, thither came Signor Marco, with whom hee complied in the same manner that he had used to do.

Night being come, and want of spirits encrea­sing upon him, he caused another reading of the Passion written by Saint Iohn: He spake of his own misery, and of the trust and confidence which hee had in the bloud of Christ. He repeated very often these words, Quem proposuit Deus mediatorem per fidem in sanguine suo. In which he seemed to receive an extreame consolation. He repeated (though with much faintness) divers places of Saint Paul. He protested, that of his part he had nothing to pre­sent God with, but miseries and finnes, yet never­thelesse he desired to bee drowned in the Abisse of the divine mercy, with so much submission of one side, and yet so much cheerfulnesse of the other side, that he drew tears from all that were present.

About the 24. houres he was visited by Physici­ans [Page 196]that had been with him not long before. And because the famous Thebaldi had not visited him much before that time, the Father making some pause, because he was unwilling to spend out his spirits, beckened to Fulgentie, to give him some account of his sicknesse. In which relation, having told him of the accident on Munday, under the terme of a totall defailance, the Father lift up his head, and interrupting said, Defailance of minde? No, I say of strength: For as for my minde, it hath alwayes kept its own constancy. And the Physician being willing to say something, did it with those termes of prudence which they com­monly use when they goe from sick men, and would not leave him without some sparke of hope, whereunto the Father Fulgentio) that understood the internals of the Father by a long practise, how little he regarded living and dying) oppos'd him, and said; Sir, The Father is none of those to whom you shall need to speake in a maske, or by ceremo­nies; And therefore I pray you tell him freely, that he hath endured his sicknesse with a great deale of patience, which he sayd he was a witnesse of more then any other, whereunto the Father making a figne of assent, and seeming a little to smile, the Phy­sician told him, that his pulse gave warning of a flying life; and that it would faile him that night, and within a few houres, to which the Father with gladsome cheere, and a face tending to joy, made answer, Sia lodato Id [...]io, mi pi [...]ce cioch' a lin piace, Blessed be God, whatsoever pleaseth him pleaseth me; with his help we shall well performe this last action. And thereupon the Physician willing to put him in minde of some cordialls: The Father interrupting sayd. Let us now sorgoe these soole­ries, [Page 197]and I defire you would resolve me of two doubts. The first, that I am assured and have a full perswafion, that whatsoever you present to mee is very good, with such assurance I take it into my hand, and when it comes neare my mouth (as if my braines were changed in an iustant, it renders it self to me horrid and abhominable. The second (and having spoken that word) his breath failed him, and he could not expresse the rest, so the Physician finding by his veine, that his vitall spirit beganne to wander away, appointed that at eight a clock they should give him a Cordiall, and in the meane time some rare Moscate, which he would send him from home, at the receiving whereof (there being then past six houres of night) he said, Questa vesta mi pare cosa violenta, this seems to mee to bee a most violent thing.

I will tell you onely one slight particular but to shew what the constancy of his minde was, and his absolute understanding and quickness of sences to the very last. The Father had in his chamber di­spos'd things in such order, that he could presently lay his hand upon any thing that he sought for, as bookes, writings, instruments, and such like, even to the very least and smallest things. About six at night, the last of his life, hee would cleanse his tongue with an instrument that he had used to that purpose a great while, appointing Fra. Marco to go fetch it him out of such a place. He went to seeke it with a candle in his hand, and return'd telling him it was not there, and hee could not finde it. The Father bad him goe seek better; for it was a ve­ry small thing: He return'd and found it, where­with he clensed his tongue, continuing with those that were present with an inestimable tranquility, [Page 198]and without so much as a groane or shew of griefe, with memorable words from time to time, repea­ting some devout passages of Scripture, and very often he would say. Hor sum audiamo one Dio chiama; Away, let us be gone whether God calls us. And the standers by seeing his voice beganne to faile, and his pulses beate to an end, entreated him to take a little rest, at which he laught out; and so hee past the time in whispering to himselfe, that he could not be well understood, except it were sometimes a word of Scripture, and once he said Audiaemoa S. Marco che tardi. Let us go to Saint Mark, it begins to belate, which is all that during his ficknesse was spo­ken without connexion and right sence. In the meane time it strooke eight a clock. He counted it, and calling Fra Cossimo his other servant to him said, now tis eight a clocke dispatch if you will give me that which the Physician ordained. But he not able to receive but a small part of it. Afterwards finding himselfe readie to die, he cald Fulgentio to him, and commanded him to leave him with these memorable words, which were like to be alwaies engraven in his heart. Hor sum non restate &c. Now stay no longer to behold me in this state it will not he needfull, go to your rest, and I will goe to god from whence wee came, And so he was willing to be embrac'd and kist by him; And though Fulgentio knew well what it was to consirme his minde by the example of such a constancy, yet he parted from him; not to leave him but to execute his command, and to obey him in another point which was to goe to the fathers to shew him so much charitie as to come and assist him in his passage with their prayers.

So he cal'd the Prior, and the other Friers to come about his bed and make their usuall prayers [Page 199]and recommendations of that soule into the hands of God, who although he could speake no longer, yet with his eyes and signes gave assurance that he was in a fullnesse of understanding to the very last gaspe. His very last words (which were hardly un­stood by Fra. Marco that stood over him, yet often repeated) where these two Esto perpetua. I doubt not when in that trance he recommended his soule to God with such servent votes and praiers from his heart, but he remembred to recommend also, and to pray for the perpetuity of the most serene Re­publique, to which he had done his service with so much faith and charitie. And with those words he lost his speech, and shortly after drew to an end, which was accompanied with two notable circum­stances. One was that being unable to move his hands, yet of himselfe by a force rather of spirit (which was all in God) then of his bodie, he for­med them into a crosse. The other, that fixing his eyes upon the crucifixe which was before him with a naturall deaths head of a Calvary, he held it so a while, and then casting them downeward, and shutting them he breathed out his soule into the hands of God.

Thus was the end of this great personage, and it pleased divine dispofition that it should be so testi­fied to the excellent Senate by a publique writing and under oath, and subscription of all the colledge of the reverend fathers of the Servi that were present against the fabulous falshoods and impudent lies that were after divulged, that he died howling and crying out with apparitions of black doggs and other things of that kinde, as also that in his Cell and chambers there were heard hideous noises. Things onely visible and audible in the far distant [Page 200]houses of the Ecclesiastiques, and heard to Rome, but never of those that lived in the next chambers nor of any that were present.

Such inventions as these were also machinated a­gainst the memory of Duke Leonardo Donato a glo­rious Hero, and before this they were growne to such an impudency to publish prodigious things in print which were said to happen in that yeare of the interdict against the defenders of the cause of Venice, & this may serve for an argument how far the nar­rations of such accidents may be believed, which are written of persons so long after, and so far distant, that lived in abhomination with the Court of Rome.

I confesse that these examples so fresh make me doubt extreamly of the alterations and falsificati­ons of so many narratives made in time past, first kept secret, and after divulged when the onely fau­tors of the factions of the Ecclesiastickes had the command of the presse, and who without difference have either commended or dispraised so many great men, not for matter of truth, but onely because they were either favourable or contrary to their mun­dane interests.

But the father died as you have heard with a fame to the world (of an incomparable man and with them that knew him) and had to doe with him, of so singular integrity, and sanctitie of life as are sel­dome seene, & with a commendation which became proverbiall, that if he had beene in the favour of the Court, and served their interests he had beene put in the Calender and number of Saints.

In Rome they were very glad to heare of his death with such kinde of discourses, nor could his holinesse containe himselfe from speaking of it, as the handy-worke of God to take him out of the [Page 201]world, as if it had been a miracle for a man to die at the age of 71. But he himself was not immortall, for he died himselfe the same yeare about the beginning of Iuly. He lived in the world seaventle one years, which was a decrepit age if you consider his com­plexion, or his consummate wisdome and perfecti­on of vertue, and his either desires or hopes to live being but too short a time if you consider the ser­vice that the publique received from him, or the common desire that was afterward of him because it concerned the most excellent republique, that his service should have beene as durable as it was faith­full. A paterne of so rare vertues was worthie of a longer old age, or rather of a perpetuall youth, if hu­manitie could have borne it in this life. But to him for his owne sake, death which could not be unex­pected was not untimly yet at least to us and for our sakes twas bitter, and if he lived long enogh for himselfe, yet lived he too little for the publique, for which he onely lived. Vpon this occasion his Cell was seene and visited by very many who obser­ving that religious povertie without any ornament were very well satisfied, and the principall Senators said it was a paradice where a good Angell dwelt. And the most excellent Leonardo Moro who is one of the perfections of all vertues and particularly of religi­on, and christian piety could not containe himselfe from saying. Is this the father whom the prelates of ho­ly church have so much defamed, Is he then a wicked man, and are they the imitators of Christand his Apostles? His funerals were conspicuous both for the publick munificence, and for a numerous concourse of great persons of every fort but for cost It exceeded not his private condition save onely in a publique griefe. And it was observed that his face was well colou­red [Page 202]and smiling, and as they said more venerable & beautifull when he was dead then when he lived. An after nine monthes that the coffin was ope­ned againe wherein he was laid, they found him both entire, and with his face fresh coloured.

Father Fulgentio was the first that went about to honour his memory by some workes, but the Con­vent would not suffer him, who resolved to make it a publique act. But the most excellent senate deci­ded the difference by a publique decree that at the publique charge there should be made a memoriall and inscription, which may be so much the more illustrious and durable because as yet there is no­thing done in it. And likewise she fame and infamie of those is like to be eternall who keepe an impla­cable hatred against the dead with a malignitie of finding blemishes in so precious a jemme, or clouds in so resplendent a jewell, which in such an excell­ent creature either never were or else so little that they were invisible, except it were to the eyes of of consummate malignitie. And according to the wise man. The rash imprudence of those men shall be had in derision who being raised into fortune presume to the patrons even of fame and to extin­guish it that it should not passe to posteritie.

And as for the glorie of this great Hero's so ex­cellent a creature, (as it happens to some captaines of great valour) his tryumphe encreast more being denied then granted. As the impediment was knowne to arise from these wicked tyrants Tiberius Nero and others so it may happen to father Paul. And if a sneild should he made for him with his effigies the same event would befall it as was said of the images of Brutus and Cassius, that in a funerall pompe they were more conspicuous and prefulgent, [Page 203]because by the violence of the Tyranny they were not seene among the others. And, if there remaine any sence of these humane consolations, to those that are in God. That great soule of father Paul shall receive content, that the perversitie of others hath favoured his intentions, which were despising of all other consolations of the living Father Paul shall live eternally in God who is the onely good­nesse desireable, but yet he shall live in the memorie of men by his heroique vertues, against which mo­numents, neither time which consumes marbles and mettalle shall prevaile, much lesse that foolish poe­tique error of them that believe, that the fame of men can live in a stone, which is subject to the inju­ries of the most wretched sort of people.

And because the time that's past, is the best in­structer of that which is to come. I must not forget, that among others that were present at that pious exemplarie and happie death of the good father, there was one sent thither who went in obedience to some body that foresaw more then others, Maestro A­gostino Mesani of Ʋenice) surnamed the Poet, who be­ving also tied up by the truth upon his oath, and ha­vingsubscribed to that narrative above mentioned (which was presented to the most excellent Senate) (this man favoured & defended by Father Paul upon many occasions, who was the rather moved to com­passionate him for his inconsistent braine) This man being brought in by a kinsman of his that was said to serve as a spy, or (as I have it more probable) by his own rashness & foolish hopes, into the houseof the Signor Nuntie was also said to have made relations there which where only worthy of himselfe. He that never knew obligation to tel truth, nor to keep him­self within terms of modestie. But that he should be [Page 204]examined againe and his narration registred, it was not very like, although the Frier himself brag'd of it.

True it is that from thence hee returned to his Convent, being full of conceipts, which by his na­turall foolishnesse (because hee was a foole, and no­toriously knowne to be so, but yet of an ill tongue and very mischievous) not being able to conceale, or rather saying publiquely, that he should shortly bee above either a Generall or a Provinciall. But this lasted but awhile, because those that were about the Nuntio understood too well the carriage of such people, and what service could bee expected from such as he was. It may bee also that they were in­form'd of his customes and qualities to be such, as cannot with honesty bee related. But let it serve to cast a veile over him, by saying that he is Muliebriter infamis, & vita probosus, and with Superiours hee had been priviledged, onely by his folly. That in more than fifteen yeares he had neither made confession, nor recited office, although hee had sometimes cele­brated Masse, and when the Superiours went a­bout to reforme it in him, hee presently turn'd Apostata, as he had done at other times before.

Let not this note bee thought impertinent, be­cause this mans relations another time may appeare under the name of a Theologist, or Master of Divi­nitie, as others in the like kinde with, and without names, have caused to be committed from Rome to the Vicar Generall Apostolicall (Maestro Filippo Ferrari de Alexandria) to make certaine heynous in­quifitions against others. But they have had the ordinary event of those that move informations upon such subjects, and the very letters themselves of the Generall have been seen by me to the like pur­pose, where it hath appeared that all that had been written and affirmed were false.