"Living or dying, we are the Lord's. It is equally so whether you are
killed by falling down stairs, or were sitting and writing, and suddenly
should die. It would not injure me if I fell from a ladder and lay dead
at its foot; for the devil hates us grievously, and might even bring
about such a thing as that."
When, at last, the little Magdalen lay at the point of death, her father
fell on his knees by her bed-side, wept bitterly and prayed that God
would receive her. Then she departed, and fell asleep in her father's
arms. Her mother was also in the room, but further off, on account of
her grief. This happened a little after nine o'clock on the Wednesday
after the 19th Sunday after Trinity, 1542.