# The Pilgrim's Progress (1909)/Book 2/Chapter 7

CHAPTER VII.
ENTERTAINED BY GAIUS.
CHRISTIANA then wished for an inn for herself and her children, because they were weary.
Then said Mr. Honest, "There is one a little before us, where a very honorable disciple, one Gaius, dwells." So they all concluded to turn in thither, and the rather because the old gentleman gave him so good a report. When they came to the door, they went in, not knocking, for folks use not to knock at the door of an inn. Then they called for the master of the house, and he came to them; so they asked if they might lie there that night.
Gaius. Yes, gentlemen, if you be true men, for my house is for none but pilgrims.
Then were Christiana, Mercy, and the boys the more glad, for that the Innkeeper was a lover of pilgrims. So they called for rooms, and he showed them one for Christiana, and her children, and Mercy, and another for Mr. Great-heart and the old gentleman.
Great. "Good Gaius, what hast thou for supper? for these pilgrims have come far to-day, and are weary."
Gaius. "It is late, so we cannot conveniently ​go out to seek food; but such as we have you shall be welcome to, if that will content."
Great. We will be content with what thou hast in the house; forasmuch as I have proved thee, thou art never without that which is suitable.
Then he went down and spake to the cook, whose name was Taste-that-which-is-good, to get ready supper for so many pilgrims. This done, he came up again, saying, "Come, my good friends, you are welcome to me, and I am glad that I have a house to entertain you in; and, while supper is making ready, if you please, let us entertain one another with some good talking together."
So they all said, "Content."
Gaius. "Whose wife is this aged matron? and whose daughter is this young damsel?"
Great. The woman is the wife of one Christian, a pilgrim of former times; and these are his four children. The maid is one of her acquaintance, one that she hath persuaded to come with her on pilgrimage. The boys take all after their father, and wish to tread in his steps; yea, if they do but see any place where the old pilgrim hath lain, or any print of his foot, it bringeth joy to their hearts, and they are eager to lie or tread in the same.
Gaius. "Is this Christian's wife, and are these Christian's children? I knew your husband's father; yea, also his father's father. Many have been good of this stock; their ancestors dwelt first at Antioch. Christian's ancestors, the early fathers ​from whom he came (I suppose you have heard your husband talk of them) were very worthy men. They have, above any that I know, showed themselves men of great virtue and courage, for the Lord of pilgrims, His ways, and them that loved Him. I have heard of many of your husband's relations that have stood all trials for the sake of the truth. Stephen, who was one of the first of the family from whence your husband sprang, was knocked on the head with stones. James, another of this generation, was slain with the edge of the sword. To say nothing of Paul and Peter, men anciently of the family from whence your husband came, there was Ignatius, who was cast to the lions; Romanus, whose flesh was cut by pieces from his bones; and Polycarp, that played the man in the fire; there was he that was hanged up in a basket in the sun for the wasps to eat; and he whom they put into a sack, and cast him into the sea to be drowned. It would be utterly impossible to count up all of that family who have suffered injuries and death for the love of a pilgrim's life. Nor can I but be glad to see that thy husband has left behind him four such boys as these. I hope they will bear out their father's name, and tread in their father's steps, and come to their father's end."
Great. Indeed, sir, they are likely lads; they seem to choose heartily their father's ways.
Gaius. That is it that I said; wherefore Christian's family is like still to spread abroad upon the ​face of the ground, and yet to be numerous upon the face of the earth. Wherefore let Christiana look out some damsels for her sons, to whom they may be married, etc., that the name of their father and the house of his family may never be forgotten in the world.
Hon. 'T is pity this family should fall and die out of the world.
Gaius. Fall it cannot, but be diminished it may; but let Christiana take my advice, and that is the way to uphold it. "And Christiana," said this Innkeeper, "I am glad to see thee and thy friend Mercy together here, a lovely couple. And may I advise, take Mercy into a nearer relation to thee; If she will, let her be given to Matthew, thy eldest son. It is the way to give you a family in the earth."
So this match was arranged, and in process of time they were married; but more of that hereafter.
Gaius also proceeded, and said, "I will now speak on the behalf of women, to take away their reproach. For as death and the curse came into the world by a woman, so also did life and health: 'God sent forth His Son, born of a woman.' I will say again, that when the Saviour was come, women rejoiced in Him before either man or angel. I read not that man ever gave unto Christ so much as one penny; but the women followed Him, and ministered to Him of their substance. 'T was a woman that washed His feet with tears, ​and a woman that anointed His body to the burial. They were women that wept when He was going to the cross, and women that followed Him from the cross; and that sat over against the sepulchre when He was buried. They were women that were first with Him at His resurrection-morn, and women that brought tidings first to His disciples that He was risen from the dead. Women, therefore, are highly favored, and show by these things that they are sharers with us in the grace of life."
Now the cook sent up to signify that supper was almost ready, and sent one to lay the cloth, the dishes, and to set the salt and bread in order.
Then said Matthew, "The sight of this cloth, and of this forerunner of the supper, awaketh in me a greater appetite to my food than I had before."
Gaius. So let all teaching truth to thee in this life awaken in thee a greater desire to sit at the supper of the great King in His kingdom; for all preaching, books, and services here, are but as the laying of the dishes, and as setting of salt upon the board, when compared with the feast which our Lord will make for us when we come to His house.
So supper came up. And first a heave-shoulder and a wave-breast were set on the table before them, to show that they must begin their meal with prayer and praise to God. The heave-shoulder David lifted up his heart to God with; ​and with the wave-breast, where his heart lay, he used to lean upon his harp when he played. These two dishes were very fresh and good, and they all ate heartily well thereof.
The next they brought up was a bottle of wine, red as blood. So Gaius said to them, "Drink freely: this is the true juice of the vine, that makes glad the heart of God and man." So they drank and were merry. The next was a dish of milk, well crumbed; but Gaius said, "Let the boys have that, that they may grow thereby."
Then they brought up in course of dish of butter and honey. Then said Gaius, "Eat freely of this, for this is good to cheer up and strengthen your judgments and understandings. This was our Lord's dish when He was a child: 'Butter and honey shall He eat, that He may know to refuse the evil and choose the good.'"
Then they brought them up a dish of apples, and they were very good tasted fruit. Then said Matthew, "May we eat apples, since they were such by and with which the serpent deceived our first mother Eve?"
Then said Gaius:
"Apples were they with which we were beguiled; Yet sin, not apples, hath our souls defiled. Apples forbid, if ate, corrupt the blood; To eat such, when commanded, does us good. Drink of His flagons, then, thou Church, His dove, And eat His apples who are sick of love."
Then said Matthew, "I made the objection, ​because I, a while since, was sick with eating of fruit."
Gaius. Forbidden fruit will make you sick; but not what our Lord has allowed.
While they were thus talking, they were presented with another dish, and it was a dish of nuts. Then said some at the table, "Nuts spoil tender teeth, specially the teeth of children;" which, when Gaius heared, he said;
"Hard texts are nuts (I will not call them cheaters), Whose shells do keep their kernels from the eaters; Ope then the shells, and you shall have the meat: They here are brought for you to crack and eat."
Then were they very merry, and sat at the table a long time, talking of many things. Then said the old gentleman, "My good landlord, while we are cracking your nuts, if you please, do you open this riddle;
"A man there was, though some did count him mad, The more he cast away, the more he had."
Then they all gave good heed, wondering what good Gaius would say: so he sat still awhile, and then thus replied:
"He that bestows his goods upon the poor Shall have as much again, and ten times more."
Then said Joseph, "I dare say, sir, I did not think you could have found it out."
"Oh!" said Gaius, "I have been trained up in this way a great while: nothing teaches like ​experience, I have learned of my Lord to be kind, and have found by experience that I have gained thereby. 'There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth; and there is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty.' 'There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing; there is that maketh himself poor, yet hath great riches.'"
Then Samuel whispered to Christiana, his mother, and said, "Mother, this is a very good man's house; let us stay here a good while, and let my brother Matthew be married here to Mercy before we go any farther." The which Gaius, the host, overhearing, said, "With a very good will, my child."
So they stayed there more than a month, and Mercy was given to Matthew to wife. While they stayed here, Mercy, as her custom was, would be making coats and garments to give to the poor, by which she brought up a very good report upon the pilgiims.
But to return again to our story. After supper, the lads desired a bed, for that they were weary with travelling. Then Gaius called to show them their chamber; but said Mercy, "I will have them to bed." So she had them to bed, and they slept well; but the rest sat up all night, for Gaius and they were such suitable company, that they could not tell how to part.
Then, after much talk of their Lord, themselves, and their journey, old Mr. Honest, he that put forth the riddle to Gaius, began to nod.
​Then said Great-heart, "What, sir! you begin to be drowsy? Come, rub up. Now, here's a riddle for you."
Then said Mr. Honest, "Let us hear it."
Then said Mr. Great-heart:
"He that will kill, must first be overcome; Who live abroad would, first must die at home."
"Ha!" said Mr. Honest, "it is a hard one; hard to explain, and harder to do. But come, landlord," said he, "I will, if you please, leave my part to you: do you expound it, and I will hear what you say."
"No," said Gaius, "it was put to you, and it is expected you should answer it." Then said the old gentleman:
He first by grace must conquered be, That sin would mortify; And who that lives would convince me, Unto himself must die."
Thus they sat talking till break of day. Now, when the family were up, Christiana bade her son James read a chapter; so he read the fifty-third of Isaiah.
"Well," said Gaius, "now you are here, and since, as I know Mr. Great-heart is good at his weapons, if you please, after we have refreshed ourselves we will walk into the fields, to see if we can do any good. About a mile from hence there is one Slay-good, a giant, that doth much annoy the King's highway in these parts; and I ​know whereabout his haunt is. He is master of a number of thieves: 't would be well if we could clear these parts of him."
So they consented and went; Mr. Great-heart with his sword, helmet, and shield, and the rest with spears and staves.
When they were come to the place where he was, they found him with one Feeble-minded in his hands, whom his servants had brought unto him, having taken him in the way. Now the giant was picking his pockets, with a purpose after that to pick his bones; for he was of the nature of flesh-eaters.
Well, so soon as he saw Mr. Great-heart and his friends at the mouth of his cave with their weapons, he demanded what they wanted.
Great. We want thee, for we are come to revenge the quarrel of the many that thou hast slain of the pilgrims, when thou has dragged them out of the King's highway; wherefore come out of thy cave.
So he armed himself and came out; and to battle they went, and fought for above an hour, and then stood still to take wind.
Slay. Then said the giant. "Why are you here on my ground?"
Great. To revenge the blood of pilgrims, as I told thee before.
So they went to it again, and the giant made Mr. Great-heart give back; but he came up again, and in the greatness of his mind he let fly ​with such stoutness at the giant's head and sides, that he made him let his weapon fall out of his hand. So he smote him, and slew him, and cut off his head, and brought it away to the inn. He also took Feeble-mind, the pilgrim, and brought him with him to his lodgings. When they were come home, they showed his head to the family, and then set it up as they had done others before, for a terror to those that should attempt to do as he hereafter.
Then they asked Mr. Feeble-mind how he fell into his hands.
Feeble. Then said the poor man, "I am a sickly man, as you see; and because death did usually once a day knock at my door, I thought I should never be well at home: so I betook myself to a pilgrim's life, and have travelled hither from the town of Uncertain, where I and my father were born. I am a man of no strength at all of body, nor yet of mind, but would, if I could, though I can but crawl, spend my life in the pilgrims' way. When I came at the gate that is at the head of the way, the Lord of that place did entertain me freely; neither objected He against my weakly looks, nor against my feeble mind, but gave me such things as were necessary for my journey, and bid me hope to the end. When I came to the house of the Interpreter, I received much kindness there; and because the Hill Difficulty was judged too hard for me, I was carried up that by one of his servants. ​Indeed, I have found much relief from pilgrims: though none were willing to go so softly as I am forced to do, yet still as they came on they bid me be of good cheer, and said that it was the will of their Lord that comfort should be given to the feeble-minded, and so went on their own pace. When I was come to Assault Lane, then this giant met with me, and bid me prepare for an encounter. But, alas! feeble one that I was, I had more need of a cordial; so he came up and took me. I believed not that he should kill me. Also when he got me into his den, since I went not with him willingly, I believed I should come out alive again; for I have heard that not any pilgrim that is taken captive by violent hands, if he keeps heart-whole towards his Master, is, by the laws of Providence, to die by the hands of the enemy. Robbed I looked to be, and robbed to be sure I am; but I have, as you see, escaped with life, for the which I thank my King as author, and you as the means. Other brunts I also look for; but this I have resolved on—to wit, to run when I can, to go when I cannot run, and to creep when I cannot go. As to the principal thing, I thank Him that loves me, I am fixed: my way is before me, my mind is beyond the river that has no bridge, though I am, as you see, but of a feeble mind."
Hon. Then said old Mr. Honest, "Have not you some time ago been acquainted with one Mr. Fearing, a pilgrim?"
​Feeble. Acquainted with him! yes; he came from the town of Stupidity, which lies four degrees northward of the City of Destruction, and as many off of where I was born; yet we were well acquainted, for indeed he was my uncle, my father's brother. He and I have been much of a temper: he was a little shorter than I, but yet we were much of a complexion.
Hon. I perceive you know him, and I am apt to believe also that you are related one to another; for you have his whitely look, a cast like his with your eye, and your speech is much alike.
Feeble. Most have said so that have known us both; and besides, what I have read in him I have for the most part found in myself.
Gaius. "Come, sir," said good Gaius, "be of good cheer: you are welcome to me and to my house. What thou hast a mind to, call for freely; and what thou wouldst have my servants do for thee, they will do it with a ready mind."
Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, "This is an unexpected favor, and as the sun shining out of a very dark cloud. Did Giant Slay-good intend me this favor when he stopped me, and resolved to let me go no farther? Did he intend that, after he had rifled my pockets, I should go to Gaius, mine host? Yet so it is."
Now, just as Feeble-mind and Gaius were thus in talk, there came one running, and called at the door, and said, that "About a mile and a half off ​there was one Mr. Not-right, a pilgrim, struck dead upon the place where he was, with a thunder-bolt."
Feeble. "Alas!" said Mr. Feeble-mind, "is he slain? He overtook me some days before I came so far as hither, and would be my companykeeper. He also was with me when Slay-good, the giant, took me; but he was nimble of his heels, and escaped; but it seems he escaped to die, and I was taken to live.
"What, one would think, doth seek to slay outright, Ofttimes delivers from the saddest plight, That very Providence, whose face is death, Doth ofttimes to the lowly life bequeath. I was taken, he did escape and flee; Hands crossed gives death to him, and life to me. "
Now, about this time, Matthew and Mercy were married; also Gaius gave his daughter Phœbe to James, Matthew's brother, to wife; after which time, they yet stayed about ten days at Gaius's house, spending their time and the seasons like as pilgrims use to do.
When they were to depart, Gaius made them a feast, and they did eat and drink and were merry. Now, the hour was come that they must be gone, wherefore Mr. Great-heart called for the bill of charges. But Gaius told him that at his house it was not the custom of pilgrims to pay for their entertainment. He boarded them by the year, but looked for his pay from the Good Samaritan, who had promised him, at His return, whatsoever ​charge he was at with them, faithfully to repay him.
Then said Mr. Great-heart to him,
Great. Beloved, thou doest faithfully, whatsoever thou doest to the brethren and to strangers, which have borne witness of thy liberal giving before the Church; whom if thou yet bring forward on their journey after a godly sort, thou shalt do well.
Then Gaius took his leave of them all, and his children, and particularly of Mr. Feeble-mind. He also gave him something to drink by the way.
Now, Mr. Feeble-mind, when they were going out of the door, made as if he intended to linger. The which when Mr. Great-heart espied, he said, "Come, Mr. Feeble-mind, pray do you go along with us: I will be your conductor, and you shall fare as the rest."
Feeble. Alas! I want a suitable companion. You are all lusty and strong, but I, as you see, am weak; I choose, therefore, rather to come behind, lest, by reason of my many weaknesses, I should be both a burden to myself and to you. I am, as I said, a man of a weak and feeble mind, and shall be injured and made weak at that which others can bear. I shall like no laughing; I shall like no gay attire; I shall like noun profitable questions. Nay, I am so weak a man as to be harmed with that which others have a liberty to do. I do not yet know all the truth; I am a very ignorant Christian man. Sometimes, ​if I hear any rejoice in the Lord, it troubles me, because I cannot do so too. It is with me as it is with a weak man among the strong, or as with a sick man among the healthy, or as a lamp despised. "He that is ready to slip with his feet is as a lamp despised in the thought of him that is at ease;" so that I know not what to do.
Great. "But, brother," said Mr. Great-heart, "I have it in my work to comfort the feeble-minded and to support the weak. You must needs go along with us: we will wait for you; we will lend you our help; we will deny ourselves of some things, for your sake; we will not enter into doubtful questions before you! we will be made all things to you, rather than you shall be left behind."
Now, all this while they were at Gaius's door, and, behold, as they were thus in the heat of their discourse, Mr. Ready-to-halt came by, with his crutches in his hands; and he also was going on pilgrimage.
Feeble. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind to him, "How camest thou hither? I was but now complaining that I had not a suitable companion, but thou art according to my wish. Welcome, welcome, good Mr. Ready-to-halt; I hope thou and I may be some help."
Ready. "I shall be glad of thy company," said the other; "and, good Mr. Feeble-mind, rather than we will part, since we are thus happily met, I will lend thee one of my crutches."
​Feeble. "Nay," said he, "though I thank thee for thy good-will, I am not inclined to halt before I am lame. Howbeit, I think, when occasion is, it may help me against a dog."
Ready. If either myself or my crutches can do thee a pleasure, we are both at thy command, good Mr. Feeble-mind.
Thus, therefore, they went on. Mr. Greatheart and Mr. Honest went before, Christiana and her children went next, and Mr. Feeble-mind came behind, and Mr. Ready-to-halt with his crutches. Then said Mr. Honest,
Hon. Pray, sir, now that we are upon the road, tell us some profitable things of some that have gone on pilgrimage before us.
Great. With a good will. I suppose you have heard how Christian of old did meet with Appollyon in the Valley of Humiliation, and also what hard work he had to go through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Also I think you cannot but have heard how Faithful was put to it by Madam Wanton, with Adam the first, with one Discontent, and Shame; four as deceitful villains as a man can meet with upon the road.
Hon. Yes, I believe I have heard of all this; but, indeed, good Faithful was hardest put to it with Shame: he was an unwearied one.
Great. Ay; for, as the pilgrim well said, he of all men had the wrong name.
Hon. But pray, sir, where was it that Christian ​and Faithful met Talkative? That same was also a notable one.
Great. He was a confident fool; yet many follow his ways.
Hon. He had liked to have deceived Faithful.
Great. Ay, but Christian put him into a way quickly to find him out.
Thus they went on till they came to the place where Evangelist met with Christian and Faithful, and foretold them what should befall them at Vanity Fair. Then said their guide, "Hereabouts did Christian and Faithful meet with Evangelist, who foretold them of their troubles which they should meet with at Vanity Fair."
Hon. Say you so? I dare say it was a hard chapter, then, that he did read unto them!
Great. It was; but he gave them encouragement withal. But what do we talk of them? they were a couple of lion-like men: they had set their faces like flint. Do not you remember how undaunted they were when they stood before the judge?
Hon. Well. Faithful bravely suffered.
Great. So he did, and as brave things came on't; for Hopeful and some others, as the story relates it, were converted by his death.
Hon. Well, but pray go on, for you are well acquainted with things.
Great. Above all that Christian met with after he had passed through Vanity Fair, one Byends was the arch one.
​Hon. By-ends! what was he?
Great. A very arch fellow—a downright deceiver; one that would be religious, which way soever the world went; but so cunning that he would be sure never to lose or suffer for it. He had his mode of religion for every fresh occasion, and his wife was as good at it as he. And he would turn and change from opinion to opinion; yea, and plead for so doing, too. But, as far as I could learn, he came to an ill end with his by-ends; nor did I ever hear that any of his children were ever of any esteem with any that truly feared God.
Now, by this time they were come within sight of the town of Vanity, where Vanity Fair is kept. So, when they saw that they were so near the town, they consulted with one another how they should pass through the town; and some said one thing, and some another. At last Mr. Greatheart said, "I have, as you may understand, often been a conductor of pilgrims through this town. Now, I am acquainted with one Mr. Mnason, a Cyprusian by nature, an old disciple, at whose house we may lodge. If you think good," said he, "we will turn in there."
"Content," said old Honest; "Content," said Christiana; "Content," said Mr. Feeble-mind; and so they said all. Now, you must think it was eventide by that they got to the outside of the town; but Mr. Great-heart knew the way to the old man's house. So thither they came, ​and he called at the door; and the old man within knew his tongue so soon as ever he heard it; so he opened the door, and they all came in. Then said Mnason, their host, "How far have ye come to-day?"
So they said, "From the house of Gaius, our friend."
"I promise you," said he, "you have come a good stitch: you may well be weary. Sit down." So they sat down.
Great. Then said their guide, "Come, what cheer, sirs? I dare say you are welcome to my friend."
Mnas. "I also," said Mr. Mnason, "do bid you welcome; and whatever you want, do but say, and we will do what we can to get it for you."
Hon. Our great want a while since was a resting-place and good company, and now I hope we have both.
Mnas. For resting-place, you see what it is; but for good company, that will appear in the trial.
Great. "Well," said Great-heart, "will you have the pilgrims up into their lodging?"
Mnas. "I will," said Mr. Mnason. So he had them up to their several places, and also showed them a very fair dining-room, where they might be, and sup together, until time should come to go to rest.
Now, when they were set in their places, and were a little cheery after their journey, Mr. ​Honest asked his landlord if there were any store of good people in the town.
Mnas. We have a few; for, indeed, they are but a few when compared with them on the other side.
Hon. But how shall we do to see some of them? for the sight of good men to them that are going on pilgrimage is like the appearing of the moon and stars to them that are sailing upon the seas.
Mnas. Then Mr. Mnason stamped with his foot, and his daughter Grace came up. So he said unto her, "Grace, go you, tell my friends, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy-man, Mr. Love-saint, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Penitent, that I have a friend or two at my house who have a mind this evening to see them." So Grace went to call them, and they came; and, after salutation made, they sat down together at the table.
Then said Mr. Mnason, their landlord, "My neighbors, I have, as you see, a company of strangers come to my house: they are pilgrims; they come from afar, and are going to Mount Zion. But who," quoth he, "do you think this is?" pointing with his finger to Christiana. "It is Christiana, the wife of Christian, that famous pilgrim who, with Faithful his brother, was so shamefully handled in our town."
At that they stood amazed, saying, "We little thought to see Christiana when Grace came to call us; wherefore this is a very comfortable surprise." They then asked her of her welfare, ​and if these young men were her husband's sons. And when she told them they were, they said, "The King whom you love and serve, make you as your father, and bring you where he is in peace!"
Hon. Then Mr. Honest (when they had all sat down) asked Mr. Contrite and the rest, in what posture their town was at present.
Contrite. You may be sure we are full of hurry in fair-time. 'T is hard keeping our hearts and spirits in good order when we are in a cumbered condition. He that lives in such a place as this, and has to do with such as we have, has need of a hint to caution him to take heed, every moment of the day.
Hon. But how are your neighbors for quietness?
Contr. They are much more moderate now than formerly. You know how Christian and Faithful were used at our town; but of late, I say, they have been far more moderate. I think the blood of Faithful lieth as a load upon them till now; for since they burned him they have been ashamed to burn any more. In those days we were afraid to walk the street; but now we can show our heads. Then the name of a Christian was hated; now, specially in some parts of our town (for you know our town is large), religion is counted honorable.
Then said Mr. Contrite to them, "Pray, how fareth it with you in your pilgrimage? how stands the country towards you?"
​Hon. It happens to us as it happeneth to wayfaring men: sometimes our way is clean, sometimes up-hill, sometimes down-hill: we are seldom at a certainty. The wind is not always on our back, nor is every one a friend that we meet with in the way. We have met with some notable rubs already, and what are yet behind we know not; but, for the most part we find it true that has been talked of, of old, "A good man must suffer trouble."
Contr. You talk of rubs; what rubs have you met withal?
Hon. Nay, ask Mr. Great-heart, our guide; for he can give the best account of that.
Great. We have been beset three or four times already. First, Christiana and her children were beset by two ruffians, who, they feared, would take away their lives. We were beset by Giant Bloody-man, Giant Maul, and Giant Slay-good. Indeed, we did rather beset the last, than were beset of him. And thus it was: After we had been some time at the house of Gaius mine host, and of the whole Church, we were minded upon a time to take our weapons with us, and go and see if we could light upon any of those that were enemies to pilgrims; for we heard that there was a notable one thereabouts. Now Gaius knew his haunt better than I, because he dwelt thereabout. So we looked, and looked, till at last we saw the mouth of his cave; then we were glad and plucked up our spirits. So we ​approached up to his den; and, lo! when we came there, he had dragged, by mere force, into his net, this poor man, Mr. Feeble-mind, and was about to bring him to his end. But, when he saw us, supposing, as he thought, he had had another prey, he left the poor man in his house, and came out. So we fell to it full sore, and he lustily laid about him; but, in conclusion, he was brought down to the ground, and his head cut off, and set up by the wayside, for terror to such as should after practice such ungodliness. That I tell you the truth, here is the man himself to affirm it, who was as a lamb taken out of the mouth of the lion.
Feeble. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, "I found this true, to my cost and comfort: to my cost, when he threatened to pick my bones every moment; and to my comfort, when I saw Mr. Great-heart and his friends with their weapons approach so near for my deliverance."
Holy. Then said Mr. Holy-man, "There are two things that they have need to possess who go on pilgrimage—courage and an unspotted life. If they have not courage, they can never hold on their way; and if their lives be loose, they will make the very name of the pilgrim stink."
Love. Then said Mr. Love-saint, "I hope this caution is not needful among you. But truly there are many that go upon the road, who rather declare themselves strangers to pilgrimage than strangers and pilgrims in the earth."
​Dare. Then said Mr. Dare-not-lie, "'Tis true. They have neither the pilgrim's weed nor the pilgrim's courage: they go not uprightly, but all awry with their feet; one shoe goeth inward, another outward, and their hosen out behind; there is here a rag, and there a rent, to the disparagement of their Lord."
Pen. "These things," said Mr. Penitent, "they ought to be troubled for; nor are the pilgrims like to have that grace upon them and their pilgrim's progress as they desire, until the way is cleared of such spots and blemishes."
Thus they sat talking and spending the time until supper was set upon the table, unto which they went, and refreshed their weary bodies; so they went to rest.
Now, they stayed in this fair a great while, at the house of Mnason, who, in process of time, gave his daughter Grace unto Samuel, Christiana's son, to wife; and his daughter Martha to Joseph.
The time, as I said, that they stayed here was long; for it was not now as in former times. Wherefore the pilgrims grew acquainted with many of the good people of the town, and did them what service they could. Mercy, as she was wont, labored much for the poor; wherefore their bodies and backs blessed her, and she was there an ornament to her profession. And to say the truth for Grace, Phœbe, and Martha, they were all of a very good nature, and did much good in their places. They were also all of them very ​fruitful; so that Christian's name, as was said before, was like to live in the world.
While they lay here, there came a monster out of the woods, and slew many of the people of the town. It would also carry away their children, and teach them to suck its whelps. Now, no man in the town durst so much as face this monster, but all fled when they heard the noise of his coming.
The monster was like unto no one beast on the earth. Its body was like a dragon, and it had seven heads and ten horns. It made great havoc of children, and yet it was governed by a woman. This monster gave conditions to men, and such men as loved their lives more than their souls accepted of those conditions; so they came under.
Now, this Mr. Great-heart, together with those that came to visit the pilgrims at Mr. Mnason's house, entered into a covenant to go and engage this beast, if perhaps they might deliver the people of this town from the paws and mouth of this so devouring a serpent.
Then did Mr. Great-heart, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy-man, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Penitent, with their weapons, go forth to meet him. Now, the monster was at first very rampant, and looked upon these enemies with great disdain; but they so belabored him, being sturdy men-at-arms, that they made him make a retreat. So they came home to Mr. Mnason's house again.
The monster, you must know, had his certain ​seasons to come out in, and to make his attempts upon the children of the people of the town. Also, these seasons did these valiant worthies watch him in, and did still continually assault him; insomuch that in process of time he became not only wounded, but lame. Also he has not made that havoc of the townsmen's children as formerly he had done; and it is verily believed by some that this beast will die of his wounds.
This, therefore, made Mr. Great-heart and his fellows of great fame in this town; so that many of the people that wanted their taste of things, yet had a reverent esteem and respect for them. Upon this account, therefore, it was that these pilgrims got not much hurt here. True, there were some of the baser sort, that could see no more than a mole, nor understand any more than a beast; these had no reverence for these men, and took no notice of their valor or adventures.
Well, the time grew on that the pilgrims must go on their way; wherefore they prepared for their journey. They sent for their friends; they talked with them; they had some time set apart, therein to commit each other to the protection of their Prince. There were again that brought them of such things as they had, that were fit for the weak and the strong, for the women and the men, and so laded them with such things as were necessary. Then they set forward on their way; and, their friends accompanying them so far as ​was convenient, they again committed each other to the protection of their King, and parted.
They, therefore, that were of the pilgrim's company, went on, and Mr. Great-heart went before them. Now, the women and children being weakly, they were forced to go as they could bear; by which means, Mr. Ready-to-halt and Mr. Feeble-mind had more to sympathize with their condition.
When they were gone from the townsmen, and when their friends had bid them farewell, they quickly came to the place where Faithful was put to death. There, therefore, they made a stand, and thanked Him that had enabled him to bear his cross so well; and the rather, because they now found that they had a benefit by such manly suffering as his was.
They went on, therefore, after this a good way farther, talking of Christian and Faithful, and how Helpful joined himself to Christian after that Faithful was dead.
Now they were come up with the Hill Lucre, where the silver mine was which took Demas off from his pilgrimage, and into which, as some think, By-ends fell and perished; wherefore they considered that. But, when they were come to the old monument that stood over against the Hill Lucre, to wit, the pillar of salt, that stood also within view of Sodom and its stinking lake, they marvelled, as did Christian before, that men of that knowledge and ripeness of wit as they were, should be so blind as to turn aside here.