believe it; for, in the heat of the discourse, I heard some of them deridingly speak of you and of your desperate journey, for so they called this your pilgrimage. But I did believe, and do still, that in the end our city will be destroyed; and therefore I have made my escape.
Chr. Did you hear no talk of neighbor Pliable?
Faith. Yes, Christian, I heard that he followed you till he came to the Slough of Despond, where, as some said, he fell in; but he would not be known to have so done: but I am sure he was completely bedaubed with that kind of dirt.
Chr. And what said the neighbors to him?
Faith. He hath, since his going back, been held greatly in derision, and that among all sorts of people: some do mock and despise him, and scarce will any set him to work. He is now seven times worse than if he had never gone out of the city.
Chr. But why should they be so set against him, since they also despise the way that he forsook?
Faith. Oh, they say, Hang him; he is a turncoat: he was not true to his profession! I think God has
stirred up even His enemies to hiss at him, and make him a proverb, because he hath forsaken the way.
Chr. Had you no talk with him before you came out?
Faith. I met him once in the streets, but he looked away toward the other side, as one ashamed of what he had done; so I spake not to him.
Chr. Well, at my first setting out I had hopes of that man; but now I fear he will perish in the overthrow of the city.
Faith. These are my fears of him, too; but who can hinder that which will be?
Chr. Well, neighbor Faithful, said Christian, let us leave him, and talk of things that more immediately concern ourselves. Tell me now what you have met with in the way as you came; for I know you have met with some things, or else it may be writ for a wonder.
Faith. I escaped the slough that I perceived you fell into, and got up to the gate without that danger; only I met with one whose name was Wanton, who had like to have done me mischief.
Chr. It was well you escaped her net: Joseph was hard put to it by her, and he escaped as you did; but it had like to have cost him his life. But what did she do to you?
Faith. You cannot think (but that you know something) what a flattering tongue she had; she lay at me hard to turn aside with her, promising me all manner of content.
Chr. Did you meet with no other assault as you came?
Faith. When I came to the foot of the hill called Difficulty, I met with a very aged man, who asked me what I was, and whither bound. I told him that I was a pilgrim, going to the Celestial City. Then said the old man, Thou lookest like an honest fellow; wilt thou be content to dwell with me for the wages that I shall give thee? Then I asked his name, and where he dwelt. He said his name was Adam the First, and that he dwelt in the town of Deceit. I asked him then what was his work, and what the wages that he would give. He told me that his work was many delights; and his wages, that I should be his heir at last. I further asked him, what house he kept, and what other servants he had. So he told me that his house was maintained with all the dainties of the world, and that he had many servants. Then I asked, how long time he would have me live with him; and he told me, as long as he lived himself.
Chr. Well, and what conclusions came the old man and you to at last?
Faith. Why, at first I found myself somewhat inclinable to go with the man, for I thought he spoke very fair; but looking in his forehead, as I talked with him, I saw there written, “Put off the old man with his deeds.”
Chr. And how then?
Faith. Then it came burning hot into my mind, that, whatever he said, and however he flattered, when he got me home to his house he would sell me for a slave. So I bid him forbear to talk, for I would not come near the door of his house. Then he reviled me, and told me that he would send such a one after me that should make my way bitter to my soul. So I turned to go away from him; but just as I turned myself to go thence, I felt him take hold of my flesh, and give me such a deadly twitch back, that I thought he had pulled part of me after himself: this made me cry, “Oh, wretched man!” So I went on my way up the hill.
Now, when I got about half the way up, I looked behind me and saw one coming after me, swift as the wind; so he overtook me just about the place where the bench stands.
Just there, said Christian, did I sit down to rest me; but, being overcome with sleep, I there lost this roll out of my bosom.
Faith. But, good brother, hear me out. So soon as the man overtook me, it was but a word and a blow; for down he knocked me and laid me for dead. But when I was a little come to myself again, I asked him wherefore he served me so. He said because of my secret inclining to Adam the First. And with that he struck me another deadly blow on the breast, and beat me down backward; so I lay at his feet as dead as before. So when I came to myself again, I cried, have mercy; but he said, I know not how to show mercy; and with that he knocked me down again. He had doubtless made an end of me, but that One came by and bid him forbear.
Chr. Who was that that bid him forbear?
Faith. I did not know Him at first; but as He went by, I perceived the holes in His hands and His side; then I concluded that He was our Lord. So I went up the hill.
Chr. That man that overtook you was Moses. He spareth none; neither knoweth he how to show mercy to those that transgress his law.
Faith. I know it very well; it was not the first time that he has met with me. ’Twas he that came to me when I dwelt securely at home, and that told me that he would burn my house over my head if I staid there.
Chr. But did you not see the house that stood there on the top of the hill, on the side of which Moses met you?
Faith. Yes, and the lions too, before I came at it. But, for the lions, I think they were asleep, for it was about noon; and because I had so much of the day before me, I passed by the porter and came down the hill.
Chr. He told me, indeed, that he saw you go by, but I wish that you had called at the house, for they would have showed you so many rarities that you would scarce have forgot them to the day of your death. But pray tell me, did you meet anybody in the Valley of Humility?
Faith. Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would willingly have persuaded me to go back again with him: his reason was, because the valley was altogether without honor. He told me, moreover, that to go there was the way to disoblige all my friends, as Pride, Arrogancy, Self-Conceit, Worldly Glory, with others, who he knew, as he said, would be very much offended if I made such a fool of myself as to wade through this valley.
Chr. Well, and how did you answer him?
Faith. I told him, that although all these that he named might claim a kindred to me, and that rightly (for indeed they were my relations, according to the flesh), yet since I became a pilgrim they have disowned me, and I also have rejected them; and therefore they were to me now no more than if they had never been of my lineage. I told him, moreover, that as to this valley, he had quite misrepresented the thing; for before honor is humility, and a haughty spirit before a
