O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?
Ver. 55. Death, where is thy sting?] This is the sharpest and the shrillest note, the boldest and the bravest challenge, that ever man rang in the ears of death. Sarcasmo constat et hostili derisione, qua mors ridenda propinatur, saith one. Death is here out-braved, called craven to his face, and bidden do his worst (Tollitur mors, non ne fiat, sed ne obsit. Aug.). Death destroy, let it not happen but let it not hurt. So Simeon sings out his soul, Hilarion chides it out, Ambrose is bold to say, I am neither ashamed to live, nor afraid to die. Anne Askew, the martyr, thus subscribeth her own confession: Written by me, Anne Askew, that neither wisheth for death, nor feareth his might; and as merry as one that is bound towards heaven. Mr Bradford being told he should be burned the next day, put off his cap, and lifting up his eyes, praised God for it.