As alchemists spend that small modicum they have to get gold, and never find it, we lose and neglect eternity, for a little momentary pleasure which we cannot enjoy, nor shall ever attain to in this life.  We abhor death, pain, and grief, all, yet we will do nothing of that which should vindicate us from, but rather voluntarily thrust ourselves upon it. [3875] “The lascivious prefers his whore before his life, or good estate; an angry man his revenge:  a parasite his gut; ambitious, honours; covetous, wealth; a thief his booty; a soldier his spoil; we abhor diseases, and yet we pull them upon us.”  We are never better or freer from cares than when we sleep, and yet, which we so much avoid and lament, death is but a perpetual sleep; and why should it, as [3876]Epicurus argues, so much affright us?  “When we are, death is not:  but when death is, then we are not:”  our life is tedious and troublesome unto him that lives best; [3877]"’tis a misery to be born, a pain to live, a trouble to die:”  death makes an end of our miseries, and yet we cannot consider of it; a little before [3878]Socrates drank his portion of cicuta, he bid the citizens of Athens cheerfully farewell, and concluded his speech with this short sentence; “My time is now come to be gone, I to my death, you to live on; but which of these is best, God alone knows.”  For there is no pleasure here but sorrow is annexed to it, repentance follows it. [3879]"If I feed liberally, I am likely sick or surfeit:  if I live sparingly my hunger and thirst is not allayed; I am well neither full nor fasting; if I live honest, I burn in lust;” if I take my pleasure, I tire and starve myself, and do injury to my body and soul. [3880]"Of so small a quantity of mirth, how much sorrow? after so little pleasure, how great misery?” ’Tis both ways troublesome to me, to rise and go to bed, to eat and provide my meat; cares and contentions attend me all day long, fears and suspicions all my life.  I am discontented, and why should I desire so much to live?  But a happy death will make an end of all our woes and miseries; omnibus una meis certa medela malis; why shouldst not thou then say with old Simeon since thou art so well affected, “Lord now let thy servant depart in peace:”  or with Paul, “I desire to be dissolved, and to be with Christ”? Beata mors quae ad beatam vitam aditum aperit, ’tis a blessed hour that leads us to a [3881]blessed life, and blessed are they that die in the Lord.  But life is sweet, and death is not so terrible in itself as the concomitants of it, a loathsome disease, pain, horror, &c. and many times the manner of it, to be hanged, to be broken on the wheel, to be burned alive. [3882]Servetus the heretic, that suffered in Geneva, when he was brought to the stake, and saw the executioner come with fire in his hand, homo viso igne tam horrendum exclamavit, ut universum populum perterrefecerit, roared so loud, that he terrified the people.  An old stoic would have scorned this.  It troubles some to be unburied, or so: