The answere to the fyrst parte of the poysened booke, which a namelesse heretyke hath named the souper of the lorde. By syr Thomas More knyght

The. xvii. chapyter.

HEre he sholde haue rehersed what one worde I had sayd of goddes almyghty power, in whyche worde I was to bysy. Rede my letter ouer, and you shall clerely se that I saye nothynge ellys, but that god is almyghty, & that he ther∣fore may do all thynge. And yet (as you shall here mayster Masker hym selfe confesse) I sayed not that god coulde do thynges that imply re∣pugnaunce. But I sayd that some thynges may seme repugnaunt vnto vs, which thynges god seeth how to sette togyther well inough. Be these word{is} good reader ouer hyghly spo∣ken of godde almighty power? May not a pore vnserned man be bolde to saye that god is able to do so myche?

And yet for sayeng thus mych, sayth mayster Masker that I am to besy, and haue taken to great a burden vp∣pon my weke sholdren, and haue ouer faded my selfe with myne owne har∣neyse and wepons, & many gaye wor des mo to vttre his eloquence with all. But mayster Masker vn the to∣ther syde is not hym selfe to bysy at all with goddes almyghty power, in affermynge that god hath not the power to make hys owne blessed bo∣dy in many places at onys. Hys myghty stronge sholdren take not to mych weyght vppon them, whan in stede of omnypotent, he proueth god impotent / and that by suche impotent argumentes, as you se your selfe so shamefully haste, that neuer sambe cryple y^t lay impotent by y^e wallys in crepyng out vnto a dole, halted halfe so sore. But than goth he ferther for

the prayse of yonge Dauyd & sayth: you haue ouerladen your selfe wyth your owne har∣neyse and weapons / and yonge Dauyd is lyke to preuayse agaynst you wyth hys slynge & his stone.

¶As for mayster Maskers yonge mayster Dauyd, who so loke vppon his fyrst treatice & my letter together shall sone se y^t his sfing and his stone be beten both about hys earys. And whā so euer his new sling & his new stone (which is as I nowe here saye very lately come ouer in prent) come onys into my handes, I shall turne his slynge into a cokste we, & his stone into a fether, for any harine that it shalbe able to do, but yf it be to suche as wyllyngely wyll putte out theyr owne eyen, to whych they neuer nede neyther stone nor slynge, but wyth a fether they maye do it and they be so madde.

¶But an heuy thynge it is to here of his yonge folyshe Dauyd, that

hath thus wyth his stone of stobbur∣nesse, stryken out his owne brayne / & with the slynge of hys heresyes, slon gen hym selfe to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

¶yet mayster Masker can not seue me thus, but on he goth ferther in his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 rethoryke & thus he sayth. God hath infatuated your hygh subtyll wy sdome / your crafty conuayaunce is espyed. God hath sent your chyrche a mete couer for suche a cuppe, euyn such a defender as you take your selfe to be, that shall lette all theyr whole cause fall flatte in the myre, vnto bothe your shames and vtter confusyon. God therfore be praysed euer amen.