Jack puts the cloak down, he pulls the crucifix out from under his shirt.
Oh ye of little faith. I will never touch or use again, any magical item. Besides these boots are too damned heavy. If you INSIST upon me breaking one my most well-held rules, then I'll take the bloody cloak, on one condition:if need be, I get to shoot the sorceress. Here's the reason why:no matter how damned fine the ends are to a means, the good ends don't justify them. And don't get me started in the potions you gave me earlier, I think there are other ways to explain those sorts of things. Now, let's open this damned thing.