Harvard Classics, vol 32 | Page 6

brother of mine, called Captain Saint Martin, a man of three and twentie yeares of age, who had alreadie given good testimonie of his worth and forward valour, playing at tennis, received a blow with a ball, that hit him a little above the right eare, without apparance of any contusion, bruse, or hurt, and never sitting or resting upon it, died within six houres after of an apoplexie, which the blow of the ball caused in him. These so frequent and ordinary examples, hapning, and being still before our eies, how is it possible for man to forgo or for get the remembrance of death? and why should it not continually seeme unto us, that shee is still ready at hand to take us by the throat? What matter is it, will you say unto me, how and in what manner it is, so long as a man doe not trouble and vex himselfe therewith? I am of this opinion, that howsoever a man may shrowd or hide himselfe from her dart, yea, were it under an oxe-hide, I am not the man would shrinke backe: it sufficeth me to live at my ease; and the best recreation I can have, that doe I ever take; in other matters, as little vain glorious, and exemplare as you list.
--praetulerim delirus inersque videri, Dum mea delectent mala me, vel denique fallant, Quam sapere et ringi [Footnote: Hor. 1. ii. Episi. ii 126]
A dotard I had rather seeme, and dull, Sooner my faults may please make me a gull, Than to be wise, and beat my vexed scull.
But it is folly to thinke that way to come unto it. They come, they goe, they trot, they daunce: but no speech of death. All that is good sport. But if she be once come, and on a sudden and openly surprise, either them, their wives, their children, or their friends, what torments, what out cries, what rage, and what despaire doth then overwhelme them? saw you ever anything so drooping, so changed, and so distracted? A man must looke to it, and in better times fore-see it. And might that brutish carelessenesse lodge in the minde of a man of understanding (which I find altogether impossible) she sels us her ware at an overdeere rate: were she an enemie by mans wit to be avoided, I would advise men to borrow the weapons of cowardlinesse: but since it may not be, and that be you either a coward or a runaway, an honest or valiant man, she overtakes you,
Nempe et fugacem persequitur virum, Nec parcit imbellis juventae Poplitibus, timidoque tergo. [Footnote: Hor. 1. iii. Od. ii. 14.]
Shee persecutes the man that flies, Shee spares not weake youth to surprise, But on their hammes and backe turn'd plies.
And that no temper of cuirace [Footnote: Cuirass.] may shield or defend you,
Ille licet ferro cauius se condat et aere, Mors tamen inclusum protraket inde caput. [Footnote: Propert. 1. iii. et xvii. 5]
Though he with yron and brasse his head empale, Yet death his head enclosed thence will hale.
Let us learne to stand, and combat her with a resolute minde. And being to take the greatest advantage she hath upon us from her, let us take a cleane contrary way from the common, let us remove her strangenesse from her, let us converse, frequent, and acquaint our selves with her, let us have nothing so much in minde as death, let us at all times and seasons, and in the ugliest manner that may be, yea with all faces shapen and represent the same unto our imagination. At the stumbling of a horse, at the fall of a stone, at the least prick with a pinne, let us presently ruminate and say with our selves, what if it were death it selfe? and thereupon let us take heart of grace, and call our wits together to confront her. Amiddest our bankets, feasts, and pleasures, let us ever have this restraint or object before us, that is, the remembrance of our condition, and let not pleasure so much mislead or transport us, that we altogether neglect or forget, how many waies, our joyes, or our feastings, be subject unto death, and by how many hold-fasts shee threatens us and them. So did the AEgyptians, who in the middest of their banquetings, and in the full of their greatest cheere, caused the anatomie [Footnote: Skeleton] of a dead man to be brought before them, as a memorandum and warning to their guests.
Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum, Grata superveniet; quae non sperabitur, hora? [Footnote: Hor. 1. i. Epist. iv. 13.]
Thinke every day shines on thee as thy last, Welcome it will come, whereof hope was past.
It is uncertaine where death looks for us; let us expect her everie where: