And therefore, this thing being established for a plain conclusion, which you must needs grant if you have faith—­and if you be gone from that ground of faith already, then is all our disputation, you know, at an end.  For how should you then rather lose your goods than forsake your faith, if you have lost your faith and let it go already?  This point, I say, therefore, being put first for a ground, between us both twain agreed, that you have yet the faith still and intend to keep it always still in your heart, and are only in doubt whether you will lose all your worldly substance rather than forsake your faith in your word alone; now shall I reply to the point of your answer, wherein you tell me the lothness of the loss and the comfort of the keeping hinder you from forgoing your goods and move you rather to forsake your faith.

I let pass all that I have spoken of the small commodity of them unto your body and of the great harm that the having of them doth to your soul.  And since the promise of the Turk, made unto you for the keeping of them, is the thing that moveth you and maketh you thus to doubt, I ask you first whereby you know that, when you have done all that he will have you do against Christ, to the harm of your soul—­whereby know you, I say, that he will keep you his promise in these things that he promiseth you concerning the retaining of your well-beloved worldly wealth, for the pleasure of your body?

VINCENT:  What surety can a man have of such a great prince except his promise, which for his own honour it cannot become him to break?

ANTHONY:  I have known him, and his father before him too, to break more promises than five, as great as this is that he should here make with you.  Who shall come and cast it in his teeth, and tell him it is a shame for him to be so fickle and so false of his promise?  And then what careth he for those words that he knoweth well he shall never hear?  Not very much, though they were told him too!

If you might come afterward and complain your grief unto his own person yourself, you should find him as shamefast as a friend of mine, a merchant, once found the Sultan of Syria.  Being certain years about his merchandise in that country, he gave to the Sultan a great sum of money for a certain office for him there for the while.  But he had scantly granted him this and put it in his hand when, ere ever it was worth aught to him, the Sultan suddenly sold it to another of his own sect, and put our Hungarian out.  Then came he to him and humbly put him in remembrance of his grant, spoken with his own mouth and signed with his own hand.  Thereunto the Sultan answered him, with a grim countenance, “I will have thee know, good-for-nothing, that neither my mouth nor mine hand shall be master over me, to bind all my body at their pleasure.  But I will be lord and master over them both, that whatsoever the one say and the other write, I will be at mine own liberty to do what I like myself, and ask them both no leave.  And therefore, go get thee hence out of my countries, knave!” Think you now, my lord, that Sultan and this Turk, being both of one false sect, you may not find them both alike false of their promise?