Ultima, = the last things in reference to the first and middle things

And yet more horror, it was a night of death, and this was the worst of all: the darkness, drowsiness, sadness, sin, all were nothing to this, all nothing in themselves, if death had not followed:¹ this is that most terrible of all terribles, all fears, griefs, suspicions, pains, as so many small brooks, are swallowed up, and drowned in this Ocean of misery. Now rich man! what sayest thou to thy barns, buildings, riches, lands? Do these pleasure thee in this thy extreme and dying agony? Thou liest this night on thy departing bed, burdened with the heavy load of thy former trespasses, the pangs come sore and sharp upon thee, thy breast pants, thy pulse beats short, thy breath it self smells of earth and rottenness: whither wilt thou go for a little ease or succour? what help canst thou have in thy heaps of gold, or hoard of wealth?² should we bring them to thy bed, (as we read of one dying, commanded that his golden vessels and silver plate should be set before him, which looking on, he promised to his soul, it should have them all, on condition of his stay with him, but ⟨p. 59⟩the remedy being silly, at last most desperately he commends it to the Devil, seeing it would not stay in his body, and so gave up the ghost.) Alas, these trifling treasures can no more deliver thee from the arrest of that inexorable Serjeant, then can an handful of dust. Wretched men! what shall be your thoughts, when you come to this miserable case? full sad and heavy thoughts (Lord thou knowest): you may lie upon your beds, like vvild bulls in a net, full of the fury of the Lord: In the morning thou shalt say, would God it were evening; and at even thou shalt say, would God it were morning: for the fear of thine heart wherewith thou shalt fear, and for the sight of thine eyes which thou shalt see, Deut. 28.67.³ Here is the terror of that night of death, when you may wish with all your hearts, that you had never been born; if the Lord once let loose the cords of your conscience, what account vvill you make of crowns, of possessions? all these will be so far from healing the wound, that they will turn rather into fiery Scorpions, for your further torments. Now, now, now is the dismal time of death, what will you do? whither will you go? to whom will you pray? the Angels are offended, and they will not guard you; God is dishonoured, and he will not hear you;