ancing, till with
her dancing she danced off St. John's head. And now sitteth he with
great feast in heaven at God's board, while Herod and Herodias full
heavily sit in hell burning both twain, and to make them sport
withal the devil with the damsel dance in the fire before them.

Finally, cousin, to finish this piece, our Saviour was himself
taken prisoner for our sake. And prisoner was he carried, and
prisoner was he kept, and prisoner was he brought forth before
Annas, and prisoner from Annas carried unto Caiphas. Then prisoner
was he carried from Caiphas unto Pilate, and prisoner was he sent
from Pilate to King Herod, and prisoner from Herod unto Pilate
again. And so was he kept as prisoner to the end of his passion.
The time of his imprisonment, I grant you, was not long. But as for
hard handling, which our hearts most abhor, he had as much in that
short while as many men among them all in a much longer time. And
surely, then, if we consider of what estate he was and also that he
was prisoner in that wise for our sake, we shall, I think, unless
we be worse than wretched beasts, never so shamefully play the
ungrateful coward as sinfully to forsake him for fear of
imprisonment.

Nor shall we be so foolish either as, by forsaking him, to give him
the occasion to forsake us in turn. For so should we, with the
avoiding of an easier prison, fall into a worse. And instead of the
prison that cannot keep us long, we should fall into that prison
out of which we can never come, though the short imprisonment
should have won us everlasting liberty.

XXI

VINCENT: Forsooth, uncle, if we feared not further, beside
imprisonment, the terrible dart of shameful and painful death, I
would verily trust that, as for imprisonment, remembering these
things which I have here heard from you (our Lord reward you for
them!) rather than that I should forsake the faith of our Saviour,
I would with help of grace never shrink at it.

But now are we come, uncle, with much work at last unto the last
and uttermost point of the dread that maketh this incursion of this
midday devil--this open invasion of the Turk and his persecution
against the faith--seem so terrible unto men's minds. Although the
respect of God vanquish all the rest of the trouble that we have
hitherto perused (as loss of goods, lands, and liberty), yet, when
we remember the terror of shameful and painful death, that point
suddenly putteth us in oblivion of all that shoul