Tunstal preached at St. Paul’s Cross at this burning of the Testament, and yet the people read the book, which continued to be circulated in spite of the priests. Tunstal thereupon further issued an injunction in which he ordered all copies of the Testament to be surrendered to him on pain of excommunication. But although the Archbishop of Canterbury also issued a similar mandate, the books continued to be sold and to be read, although in secret. Nay more, the printers of Antwerp, encouraged by the enormous demand for Testaments that had arisen, afterwards printed a large supply upon their own account, and, further, succeeded in smuggling them into England. In sublime ignorance of the law of supply and demand, the Bishops then resolved to purchase these Testaments in order to destroy them. The aged Archbishop of Canterbury expended a sum amounting to nearly £1000, at the present value of money, for this purpose, but Tunstal is the chief hero of the incident. Old Hall, the chronicler, relates the event, which, though it occurred later, may be most conveniently referred to here:-- “It happened that one Packington, a merchant and mercer of London, was in Antwerp, and this Packington was a man that highly favoured Tyndale, but to the Bishop utterly showed himself to the contrary. The Bishop commenced of the New Testaments, and how he would gladly buy them. Packington said to the Bishop, ‘My lord, I know the Dutchmen and strangers that have bought them of Tyndale and have them here to sell; so that if it be your lordship’s pleasure to pay for them I will then assure you to have every book of them that is printed and here unsold.’ The Bishop said, ‘Do your diligence and get them; and with all my heart I will pay for them whatsoever they cost you.’ Packington came to Tyndale and said, ‘William, I know thou art a poor man, and hast a heap of New Testaments by thee for the which thou hast both endangered thy friends and beggared thyself, and I have now gotten thee a merchant, which with ready money shall despatch thee of all that thou hast.’ ‘Who is the merchant?’ said Tyndale. ‘The Bishop of London.’ ‘Oh, that is because he will burn them,’ said Tyndale. ‘Yea, marry,’ quoth Packington. ‘I am the gladder,’ said Tyndale, ‘for these two benefits shall come thereof; I shall get the money to bring myself out of debt, and the whole world will cry out against the burning of God’s Word; and the overplus of the money that shall remain to me shall make me more studious to correct the said New Testament, and so newly print the same once again, and I trust the second will much better like you than ever the first.’ And so, forward went the bargain: the Bishop had the books, Packington had the thanks, and Tyndale had the money.”