“So upon a time,” continues Foxe, “some of these beneficed doctors bid Master Walsh and the lady his wife at a supper or banquet, there having among them talk at will without any gainsaying. The supper or banquet being done, and Master Walsh and his lady being come home, they called for Master Tyndale, and talked with him of such communication as had been where they came from and of their opinions. Master Tyndale thereunto made answer agreeable to the truth of God’s Word, and in reproving of their false opinions. The Lady Walsh, being a stout woman, and as Master Tyndale did report her to be wise, there being no more but they three, Master Walsh, his wife, and Master Tyndale: ‘Well,’ said she, ‘there was such a doctor he may dispend two hundred pound by the year; another one hundred pound; and another three hundred pound; and what think ye, _were it reason that we should believe you before them so great, learned, and beneficed men_?’ Master Tyndale, hearing her, gave her no answer; nor after that had but small arguments against such, for he perceived it would not help, in effect to the contrary.” The character of the disputes may be inferred from the following paragraph which has been compiled by D’Aubigné from Tyndale’s writings:-- “In the dining-room of the old hall a varied group was assembled round the hospitable table. There were Sir John and Lady Walsh, a few gentlemen of the neighbourhood, with several abbots, deans, monks, and doctors in their respective costumes. Tyndale occupied the humblest place, and generally kept Erasmus’ New Testament within reach, in order to prove what he advanced. Numerous domestics were moving about engaged in waiting on the guests; and at length the conversation, after wandering a little, took a more precise direction. The priests grew impatient when they saw the terrible volume appear. ‘Your Scriptures only seem to make heretics,’ they exclaimed. ‘On the contrary,’ replied Tyndale, ‘the source of heresies is pride; now, the Word of God strips man of everything, and leaves him as bare as Job.’ ‘The Word of God! Why, even we don’t understand your Word; how can the vulgar understand it?’ ‘You don’t understand it,’ rejoined Tyndale, ‘because you look into it only for foolish questions. Now, the Scriptures are a clue, which we must follow without turning aside until we arrive at Christ, for Christ is the end.’ ‘And I tell you,’ shouted out another priest, ‘that the Scriptures are a Dædalian labyrinth--a conjuring-book wherein everybody finds what he wants.’ ‘Alas!’ replied Tyndale, ‘you read them without Jesus Christ; that’s why they are an obscure book to you. What do I say? A grave of briars; if thou loose thyself in one place thou art caught in another.’ ‘No; it is we who give the Scriptures, and we who explain them to you.’ ‘You set candles before images,’ replied Tyndale; ‘and since you give them light, why don’t you give them food? Why don’t you make their bellies hollow, and put victuals and drink