[Prose composition written by Fr Luke Wadding OFM giving thanks and praise to the Spanish vice-regent, the senate and nobility of Naples.]

To the Most Excellent Viceroy To the Most Illustrious Senate To the Most Noble People of Naples Fr Luke Wadding

(Fr Luke Wadding to the Viceroy, Senate and People of Naples)

Whenever I look upon the seat of your rule, in soil most productive, in weather most salubrious, I observe nature itself, and one who is above nature, fighting on your side. For what is there that Mother Earth hides in her bosom that she does not pour forth abundantly upon you from her open lap? In your domain are fine fields, well watered valleys, flourishing hills, fruitful mountains, rich gardens, established plantations, twice-cropping cereals, always hanging fruits, in short the perpetual encouragement of Liber and Ceres to your profit. Elsewhere the earth is fruitful: with you it luxuriates; and whatever can germinate develops with all its effort. If our attention is directed from the land to the shore, how welcoming is your sea? How many noble ports? Of what quality are those sea-[?]s? How calm the bays, tranquil in their waters and beautiful among the surrounding mountains? I dare truly say that in universal elegance there is no city to surpass, or indeed match, this one of yours. Hither all nations gather, here is the commerce of all peoples, hither is brought anything precious from the furthest bounds, here is an anthology of delights and of the world: indeed, could one find anything dispersed through other regions that cannot be had here diligently collected together? Great are these natural blessings, but no less the divine: "The gods themselves", to borrow what Laberius said of Caesar, "have denied you nothing." The author of human salvation desired the holy faith to be planted in you by the Chief of the Apostles, and he in turn that it be propagated through his disciples. Cultivated by them, the Christian religion so grew, and put down such deep roots in you, that it could not be discouraged by any opposition or corrupted by any errors. Impious persecutors did indeed try to cut it budding from the beautiful seed, but watered with the holy blood it germinated, beyond expectation, more abundantly, and with droplets of gore sprinkled like seeds

("the blood of Christians is indeed seed" {Tertullian in Apol.}), the faithful increased enormously, in fact "grains which fell singly gave forth many fold" - {Leo Serm. 1. on Ss Peter and Paul}. Thus you went off into such an expanse and grew into such piety as could hardly be believed [? such as may hardly keep up with faith of the truth] . Where among people could you find such splendid ornaments of religion? Where such frequent altars? Such splendid temples? Such a multitude of holy men? Truly your city rose to such sanctity, holy riches, splendour of divine worship, and multitude of churches, that the whole state seemed to be one temple, and to have erected its summit already in heaven. To add to this, how many Guardians surround you? What patrons appointed from heaven? How many came in addition to the great Januarius your Pioneer, either native born or sent from elsewhere? Summoned from Greece, called up from from the furthest shores of India, brought in from the utmost ends of Lusitania, gathered from diverse parts of Italy, as it were [resident?] guards, assiduously to protect and defend this city, dear to the divinity. And James sent from Picenum, below the first ones in time but not in dignity; whose eternal dues to you have been repaid by your perpetual veneration. No-one's altar do you tend more frequently, no-one's help more humbly implore, no-one's memory celebrate with more noble pomp. Shortly after he departed from you into heaven, there was from among you one to relate his heroic deeds in a heroic poem and sing out his triumph to the [conquered] world and part of heaven. Luck, being envious of so much glorification of a man deservedly repeated in song, departed; but could not dispel it, God being unwilling to deprive of human praises one whom he had embellished with divine honours. In the end, the task came through into my hands, and I judged that it should be sent to you, as it began with you, has been brought to light by you and, after the shadows of oblivion, rises again more brightly by your splendour. In its very infancy a very learned author considered its stench such, that they judged that it should be dedicated to the highest Bishop of all, Innocent the Eighth; I am sufficiently advanced in age as to think it should be resolved by you, and because it has been passed on to one man, albeit the highest, it should be remitted by all ranks to the noblest authority. It is a light duty, if judged by the size of the little chore; not a light one if account is taken of the author, the arguments, the doctrine and the time. The author is

is Archbishop Tarentinus; the argument, the shining glory of your patron; the doctrine, not common, but specific for the condition of that age; the time, over a hundred and fifty years, which has bestowed a greater authority: for "to the writings of good authors dignity and weight accrue with age" {Thucydides.L.i}. So you will find here, if you care to read it. Farewell.