Hobgoblin, nor foul fiend, Can daunt his spirit; He 'll not fear what men say; He 'll labour night and day By this time they were got to the Enchanted Ground (cut, p. 118); where the air naturally tended to make one drowsy; and that place was all grown over with briers and thorns, excepting here and there where was an Enchanted arbour, upon which if a man sits, or in which if a man sleeps, 'tis a question, some say, whether ever he shall rise or and that place was grown over with b lars and thorns. Wake again in this world. Over this forest, therefore, they went, both one and another; and Mr. GreatHeart went before, for that he was the Guide, and Mr. Valiant-fortruth came behind, being rear-guard, for fear lest, peradventure, some Fiend, or Dragon, or Giant, or Thief, should fall upon their rear, and so do mischief. They went on here, each man with his sword drawn in his hand, for they knew it was a dangerous place; also they cheered up one another as well as they could. Feeble-mind Mr. Great-Heart commanded should come up after him, and Mr. Despondency was under the eye of Mr. Valiant. Now they had not gone far but a great mist and darkness fell upon them all, so that they could scarce for a great while see the one the other. Wherefore they were forced for some time to feel one for another by words; for they walked not by sight. But any one must think that here was but sorry going for the best of them all; but how much worse for the women and children, who, both of feet and heart, were but tender! Yet so it was, that, through the encouraging words of him that led in the front, and of him that brought them up behind, they made a pretty good shift to wag along. The way also here was very wearisome through dirt and slabbiness; nor was there, on all this ground, so much as one inn or victualling-house wherein to refresh the feebler sort. Here, there fore, was grunting, and puffing, and sighing; while one tumbleth over a bush, another sticks fast in the dirt; and the children, some The way was also here very wearisome through dirt and slabbiness-therefore there was me, I think I cannot get away from them. of them, lost their shoes in the mire: while one cries out, I am down! and another, Ho! where are you? and a third, The bushes have got such fast hold on Then they came at an arbour, warm, and promising much refreshing to the Pilgrims; for it was finely wrought above-head, beautified with greens, furnished with benches and settles. It also had in it a soft couch, whereon the weary might lean. This, you must think, all things considered, was tempting; for the Pilgrims already began to be foiled with the badness of the way; but there was not one of them that made so much as a motion to stop there; yea, for aught 1 could perceive, they continually gave so good heed to the advice of their Guide, and he did so faithfully tell them of dangers, and of the nature of dangers, when they were at them, that usually, when they were nearest to them, they did most pluck up their spirits, and hearten one another to deny the flesh. This arbour was called The Slothful's Friend, on purpose to allure, if it might be, some of the Pilgrims there to take up their rest when weary. I saw then in my dream, that they went on in this their solitary ground till they came to a place at which a man is apt to lose his way. Now, though, when it was light, their Guide could well enough tell how to miss those ways that led wrong, yet in the dark he was put to a stand; but he had in his pocket a map of all ways leading to or from the Celestial City; wherefore he struck a light (for he never goes also without his tinder-box), and takes a view of his book or map, which bids him to be careful in that place to turn to the right hand. And had he not been careful here to look in his map, they had all, in probability, been smothered in the mud; for just a little before them (and that at the end of the cleanest way too) was a pit, none knows how deep, full of nothing but mud, there made on purpose to destroy the Pilgrims in. Then thought I with myself, who that goeth on pilgrimage, but would have one of these maps about him, that he may look, when he is at a stand, which is the way he must take? Then they went on in this Enchanted Ground till they came to where there was another arbour, and it was built by the highwayside; and in that arbour there lay two men, whose names were Heedless and Too-bold. These two went thus far on pilgrimage; but here, being wearied with their journey, sat down to rest themselves, and so fell fast asleep. When the Pilgrims saw them, they stood still, and shook their heads, for they knew that the sleepers were in a pitiful case. Then they consulted what to do; whether to go on, and leave them in their sleep, or to step to them, and try to awake them. So they concluded to go to them, and awake them; that is, if they could; but with this caution, namely, to take heed that they themselves did not sit down, nor embrace the offered benefit of that arbour. So they went in, and spake to the men, and called each by his name (for the Guide, it seems, did know them); but there was no voice nor answer. Then the Guide did shake them, and do what he could to disturb them. Then said one of them, I will pay you when I take my money. At which the Guide shook his head. I will fight so long as I can hold my sword in my hand, said the other. At that one of the children laughed. Then said Christiana, What is the meaning of this? The Guide. said, They talk in their sleep. If you strike them, beat them, or whatever else you do to them, they will answer you after this fashion; or, as one of them said in old time, when the waves of the sea did beat upon him, and he slept as one upon the mast of a ship, "When I awake, I will seek it yet again."9 You know, when men talk in their sleep, they say any thing; but their words are not governed either by faith or reason. There is an incoherency in their words now, as there was before, betwixt their going on pilgrimage and sitting down here. This then is the mischief of it; when heedless ones go on pilgrimage, 'tis twenty to one but they are served 9 Prov. xxiii. 34, 35. thus; for this Enchanted Ground is one of the last refuges that the Enemy to Pilgrims has; wherefore it is, as you see, placed almost at the end of the way, and so it standeth against us with the more advantage. For when, thinks the Enemy, will these fools be so desirous to sit down as when they are weary? and when so like to be weary as when almost at their journey's end? Therefore it is, I say, that the Enchanted Ground is placed so nigh to the land Beulah, and so near the end of their race. Wherefore let Pilgrims look to themselves, lest it happen to them as it has done to these that, as you see, are fallen asleep, and none can awake them. Then the Pilgrims desired with trembling to go forward; only they prayed their Guide to strike a light, that they might go the rest of their way by the help of the light of a lantern. So he struck a light, and they went by the help of that through the rest of this way, though the darkness was very great. Then the Pilgrims prayed their Guide to strike a light. So they went by the help of that through the rest of this way, & looked before them and saw a man upon his knees with hands & eyes lifted up. But the children began to be sorely weary; and they cried out unto Him that loveth Pilgrims, to make their way more comfortable. So, by that they had gone a little farther, a wind arose that drove away the fog; so the air became more clear. Yet they were not off (by much) of the Enchanted Ground; only now they could see one another better, and the way wherein they should walk. Now when they were almost at the end of this ground, they perceived that a little before them was a solemn noise, as of one that was much concerned. So they went on, and looked before them; and behold they saw, as they thought, a man upon his knees, with hands and eyes lifted up, and speaking, as they thought, carnestly to one that was above. They drew nigh, but could not tell what he said; so they went softly till he had done. When he had done, he got up, and began to run towards the Celestial City. Then Mr. Great-Heart called after him, saying, Soho! friend, let us have your company, you go, as I suppose you do, to the Celestial City. So the man stopped, and they came up to him. But as soon as Mr. Honest saw if Then said Mr. Valiant-for-truth, him, he said, I know this man. Pr'ythee, who is it? It is one, said he, that comes from whereabout I dwelt; his name is Standfast; he is certainly a right good Pilgrim. So they came up to one another; and presently Standfast said to old Honest, Ho! Father Honest, are you there? Ay, said he, that I am, as sure as you are there. Right glad I am, said Mr. Standfast, that I have found you on this road. And as glad am I, said the other, that I espied you on your knees. Then Mr. Standfast blushed, and said, But why, did you see me? Yes, that I did, quoth the other; and with my heart was glad at the sight. Why, what did you think, said Standfast. Think! said old Honest; what should I think? I thought we had an honest man upon the road; and therefore should have his company by and by. If you thought not amiss, said Standfast, how happy am I! but, if I be not as I should, 'tis I alone must bear it. That is true, said the other; but your fear doth further confirm me that things are right betwixt the Prince of Pilgrims and your soul; for He saith, "Blessed is the man that feareth always." Val. Well, but, brother, I pray thee tell us, what was it that was the cause of thy being upon thy knees even now? Was it for that some special mercy laid obligations upon thee, or how? Standfast. Why, we are, as you see, upon the Enchanted Ground, and, as I was coming along, I was musing with myself of what a dangerous nature the road in this place was, and how many that had come even thus far on pilgrimage had here been stopped, and been destroyed. I thought also of the manner of the death with which. this place destroyeth men. Those that die here die of no violent distemper: the death which such die is not grievous to them; for he that goeth away in a sleep begins that journey with desire and pleasure; yea, such acquiesce in the will of that disease. Then Mr. Honest, interrupting him, said, Did you see the two men asleep in the arbour? Standfast. Ay, ay; I saw Heedless and Too-bold there; and, for aught I know, there they will lie till they rot.2 But let me go on with my tale: As I was thus musing, as I said, there was one in very 2 Prov. x. 7. |