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

How? required? is any so bold to approach his gates, and make a forcible entry? Yes, God hath his special Bailiffs that will fear no colours, riches cannot ransom, castles cannot keep, hollows cannot hide, hills nor their forts protect: Sits Herod on his Throne? there's a Writ of Remove, and the worms are his Bailiffs: is Dives at his Table? Death brings the Mittimus, and Devils are his Jailers: sits Lazarus at his gates? the King greets him well, (we may say) and Angels are his keepers: poor, rich, good, bad, all must be served at the Kings suit, no place can privilege, no power secure, no valour rescue, no liberty exempt: with a non omittas propter aliquam libertatem, runs this Warrant:¹ O rich man? what wilt thou now do? The sorrows of death compass thee, and the floods of Belial make thee afraid. What? no friends to help? no power to rescue, is there no other way but yield and die for it? O misery! enough to break an heart of brass again: Imagine that a Prince a while possessed some royal City, where (if you walk the streets) you may see peace flourishing, wealth abounding, pleasure waiting, all his neighbours offering their service, and promising to assist him in all his needs and affairs: if on a sudden this city were besieged by some deadly enemy, who coming (like a violent stream) takes one hold after another, one wall after another, one castle after another, and at last drives this Prince only to a ⟨p. 77⟩little Tower, and there sets on him; what fear, anguish, and misery would this Prince be in? If he looks about, his holds are taken, his men are slain, his friends and neighbours now stand aloof off, and they begin to abandon him; were not this a woeful plight trow you? even so it fares with a poor soul at the hour of her departure: the body wherein she reigned like a jolly Princess, then droops and languishes; the keepers tremble, ²the strong men bow, the grinders cease, and they wax dark that look out at the windows▪ no wonder, if fear be in the way, when the arms the legs, the teeth, the eyes (as so many walls wherein the soul was environed) are now surprised and beaten to the ground: her last refuge is the heart, and this is the little Tower whither at last she is driven: But what, is she there secure?