uncle, very true indeed.

ANTHONY: Then seemeth this true further unto me: that God hath put
every man here upon the earth under so sure and so safe keeping
that of all the whole people living in this wide world, there is
neither man, woman, nor child--would they never so far wander about
and seek it--who can possibly find any way by which they can escape
from death. Is this, cousin, a fond imagined fancy, or is it very
truth indeed?

VINCENT: Nay, this is no imagination, uncle, but a thing so
clearly proved true that no man is so mad as to deny it.

ANTHONY: Then need I say no more, cousin. For then is all the
matter plain and open evident truth, which I said I took for truth.
And it is yet a little more now than I told you before, when you
took my proof yet but for a sophistical fancy, and said that, for
all my reasoning that every man is a prisoner, yet you thought
that, except those whom the common people call prisoners, there is
else no man a very prisoner indeed. And now you grant yourself
again for very substantial truth, that every man, though he be the
greatest king upon earth, is set here by the ordinance of God in a
place, be it never so large, yet a place, I say (and you say the
same) out of which no man can escape. And you grant that every man
is there put under sure and safe keeping to be readily set forth
when God calleth for him, and that then he shall surely die. And is
not then, cousin, by your own granting before, every man a very
prisoner, when he is put in a place to be kept to be brought forth
when he would not, and himself knows not whither?

VINCENT: Yes, in good faith, uncle, I cannot but well perceive
this to be so.

ANTHONY: This would be true, you know, even though a man were but
taken by the arm and in a fair manner led out of this world unto
his judgment. But now, we well know that there is no king so great
but what, all the while he walketh here, walk he never so loose,
ride he with never so strong an army for his defence, yet he
himself is very sure--though he seek in the meantime some other
pastime to put it out of his mind--yet is he very sure, I say, that
escape he cannot. And very well he knoweth that he hath already
sentence given upon him to die, and that verily die he shall. And
though he hope for long respite of his execution, yet can he not
tell how soon it will be. And therefore, unless he be a fool, he
can never be without fear that, either on the morrow or on the