Following the section which has been discussed, we have now to proceed to the last, that is, to that which begins, "The fourth part of their life Weds them again to God," by which the text intends to show what the noble Soul does in the last age, that is, in Extreme Old Age, that is, Senility. And it says that it does two things: the one, that it returns to God as to that port or haven whence it departed when it issued forth to enter into the sea of this life; the other is, that it blesses the voyage which it has made, because it has been upright, straight, and good, and without the bitterness of storm and tempest. And here it is to be known that, even as Tullius says in that book On Old Age, the natural death is, as it were, a port or haven to us after our long voyage and a place of rest. And the Virtuous Man who dies thus is like the good mariner; for, as he approaches the port or haven, he strikes his sails, and gently, with feeble steering, enters port. Even thus we ought to strike the sails of our worldly affairs, and turn to God with all our heart and mind, so that one may come into that haven with all sweetness and all peace. And in this we have from our own proper nature great instruction in gentleness, for in such a death as this there is no pain nor bitterness, but even as a ripe apple easily and without violence detaches itself from its branch, so our Soul without grief separates itself from the body wherein it has dwelt. Aristotle, in his book On Youth and Old Age, says that the death which overtakes us in old age is without sadness. And as to him who comes from a long journey, before he enters into the gate of his city, the citizens thereof go forth to meet him, so do those citizens of the Eternal Life go forth to meet the noble Soul; and they do thus because of his good works and acts of contemplation, which were of old rendered unto God and withdrawn from worldly affairs and thoughts. Hear what Tullius says in the person of Cato the elder: "It seems to me that already I see, and I uplift myself in the greatest desire to see, your fathers, whom I loved, and not only those whom I knew myself, but also those of whom I have heard spoken." In this age, then, the noble Soul renders itself unto God, and awaits the end of this life with much desire; and to itself it seems that it goes out from the Inn to return home to the Father's mansion; to itself it seems to have reached the end of a long journey and to have reached the City; to itself it seems to have crossed the wide sea and returned into the port. O, miserable men and vile, who run into this port with sails unfurled; and there where you should find rest, are broken by the fury of the wind and wrecked in the harbour. Truly the Knight Lancelot chose not to enter it with sails unfurled, nor our most noble Italian Guido da Montefeltro. These noble Spirits indeed furled the sails after the voyage of this World, whose cares were rendered to