back:
but when I was cold, or that my Ague came upon me, I used to make a
Fire, Wood costing nothing, but the fetching.

[Their Boy's disobedience adds to their trouble.] We had a black Boy
my Father brought from Porto Nova to attend upon him, who seeing
his Master to be a Prisoner in the hands of the People of his own
Complexion, would not now obey his Command, further than what agreed
unto his own humour, neither was it then as we thought in our Power
to compel or make him; but it was our ignorance. As for me, my Ague
now came to a settled course; that is, once in three days, and so
continued for Sixteen Months time.

[His excessive sorrow.] There appearing now to us no probability,
whereupon to build any hopes of Liberty, the sence of it struck my
Father into such an Agony and strong Passion of Grief, that once I
well remember in Nine days time nothing came into his mouth, but
cold water; neither did he in three Months together ever rise up
out of his Bed, but when the course of Nature required it: always
groaning and sighing in a most piteous manner: which for me to hear
and see come from my dear Father, my self also in the same Condition,
did almost break my heart. But then I felt that Doctrine most true,
which I had read out of Mr. Roger's Book, That God is most sweet,
when the world is most bitter.

In this manner my Father lay until the Ninth of February 1660/61. By
which time he was consumed to an Anatomy, having nothing left but
Skin to cover his Bones; yet he often would say, That the very sound
of Liberty would so revive him, that it would put strength into his
Limbs. But it was not the will of him, to whom we say, Thy will be
done, to have it so.

[His Discourse and charge to his Son before his Death.] The evening
before his Death, he called me to come near his Bed side, and to sit
down by him, at which time also I had a strong Feavor upon me. This
done, he told me, That he sensibly felt his life departing from him,
and was assured that this Night God would deliver him out of this
Captivity, and that he never thought in all his Lifetime that Death
could be so easie and welcom to any Man, as God had made it to be
to him, and the joyes he now felt in himself he wanted utterance to
express to me. He told me, These were the last words, that ever he
should speak to me, and bid me well regard and be sure to remember
them, and tell them to my Brother and Sister, if it pleased God, as
he hoped it would, to b