All succour was unavailing. On the seventh morning of the fever, the Pope's[188] doctor declared to the patient that he had very little hope. Tasso kissed him and thanked him for announcing such good news to him. Next he looked up to the sky and, with an abundant outpouring of the heart, gave thanks to God for His mercies.
His weakness increased; he wished to receive the Eucharist in the church of the monastery: he dragged himself there leaning on the monks and returned carried in their arms. When he was stretched once more upon his couch, the prior asked him as to his last wishes.
"I have troubled very little about fortune's gifts during my life; I care still less for them at my death. I have no will to make."
"Where will you have your burying-place?"
"In your church, if you will deign to do my remains so great an honour."
"Will you dictate your epitaph yourself?"
Thereupon, turning towards his confessor:
"Father, write: I return my soul to God, who gave it me, and my body to the earth, whence it came. I bequeath to this monastery the sacred image of my Redeemer."
He took in his hands a crucifix which the Pope had given him, and pressed it to his lips.