discharged, that it is questionable whether his Wisdom, Industry or
Valour may challenge to it self the greatest praise of the Action. And
now when the triumphant Lawrels were ready to Crown his Brows, the
_English_ so near the Victory, that they touched it, ready to lay hold
upon it, he was unfortunately shot in the Thigh, which is the
Rendez-vouz of Nerves and Sinews, which caused a Feaver, that proved so
mortal, that five and twenty days after he died of the same; the Night
of whose Death was the Noon of his Age, and the exceeding Loss of
Christendom.

His Body was conveyed into _England_, and most honourably interred in
the Church of St. _Paul_ in _London_; over which was fixed this
Epitaph:

_England_, _Netherland_, the Heavens, and the Arts,
All Souldiers, and the World have made fix parts
Of the Noble _Sidney_; for none will suppose
That a small heap of Stones can _Sidney_ enclose:
_England_ hath his Body, for she it bred;
_Netherland_ his Blood, in her defence shed;
The Heavens his Soul, the Arts his Fame;
All Soldiers the Grief, the World his good Name.

To recite the Commendations given him by several Authors, would of it
self require a Volume; to rehearse some few not unpleasing to the
Reader. The reverend _Cambden_ writes thus; This is that _Sidney_,
whom, as God's will was, he should be therefore born into the world
even to shew unto our Age a Sample of ancient Virtues. Doctor _Heylin_
in his _Cosmography_ calleth him, That gallant Gentleman of whom he
cannot but make honourable mention. Mr. _Fuller_ in his _Worthies_ thus