But this is not so. Death is often
peaceful and almost painless.
Bede during his late illness was translating St. John's Gospel into
Anglo-Saxon, and the morning of his death his secretary, observing his
weakness, said, "There remains now only one chapter, and it seems
difficult to you to speak." "It is easy," said Bede; "take your pen and
write as fast as you can," At the close of the chapter the scribe said,
"It is finished," to which he replied, "Thou hast said the truth,
_consummatum est_." He then divided his little property among the
brethren, having done which he asked to be placed opposite to the place
where he usually prayed, said "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and
to the Holy Ghost," and as he pronounced the last words he expired.
Goethe died without any apparent suffering, having just prepared himself
to write, and expressed his delight at the return of spring.
We are told of Mozart's death that "the unfinished requiem lay upon the
bed, and his last efforts were to imitate some peculiar instrumental
effects, as he breathed out his life in the arms of his wife and their
friend Suessmaier.
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