town where this lusty fair is kept; and he that would go to the city,
and yet not go through this town, "must needs go out of the world." The
Prince of princes himself, when here, went through this town to his own
country, and that upon a fair-day, too; yea, and as I think, it was
Beelzebub, the chief lord of this fair, that invited him to buy of his
vanities, yea, would have made him lord of the fair, would he but have
done him reverence as he went through the town. Yea, because he was such
a person of honor Beelzebub had him from street to street, and showed
him all the kingdoms of the world in a little time, that he might, if
possible, allure that Blessed One to cheapen and buy some of his
vanities; but he had no mind to the merchandise, and therefore left the
town without laying out so much as one farthing upon these vanities.
This fair, therefore, is an ancient thing of long standing, and a very
great fair.
Now these pilgrims, as I said, must needs go through this fair. Well, so
they did; but, behold, even as they entered into the fair, all the
people in the fair were moved, and the town itself, as it were, in a
hubbub about them, and that for several reasons: For,
First, The pilgrims were clothed with such kind of raiment as was
diverse from the raiment of any that traded in that fair. The people,
therefore, of the fair made a great gazing upon them; some said they
were fools; some they were bedlams; and some they were outlandish men.
Secondly, And as they wondered at their apparel, so they did likewise at
their speech; for few could understand what they said. They naturally
spoke the language of Canaan; but they that kept the fair were the men
of this world. So that from one end of the fair to the other they seemed
barbarians each to the other.
Thirdly, But that which did not a little amuse the merchandisers was,
that these pilgrims set very light by all their wares. They cared not so
much as to look upon them; and if they called upon them to buy, they
would put their fingers in their ears, and cry, "Turn away mine eyes
from beholding vanity," and look upward, signifying that their trade and
traffic was in heaven.
One chanced mockingly, beholding the carriage of the men, to say unto
them, "What will ye buy?" But they looking gravely upon him, said, "We
buy the truth." At that, there was an occasion taken to despise the men
the more; some mocking, some taunting, some speaking reproachfully, and
some calling upon others to smite them. At last things came to a hubbub
and great stir in the fair, insomuch that all order was confounded. Now
was word presently brought to the great one of the fair, who quickly
came down, and deputed some of his most trusty friends to take those men
into examination about whom the fair was almost overturned. So the men
were brought to examination; and they that sat upon them asked whence
they came, whither they went, and what they did there in such an unusual
garb. The men told them that they were pilgrims and strangers in the
world, and that they were going to their own country, which was the
heavenly Jerusalem; and that they had given no occasion to the men of
the town, nor yet to the merchandisers, thus to abuse them, and to let
them in their journey, except it was for that when one asked them what
they would buy, they said they would buy the truth. But they that were
appointed to examine them did not believe them to be any other than
bedlams and mad, or else such as came to put all things into a confusion
in the fair. Therefore they took them and beat them, and besmeared them
with dirt, and then put them into the cage, that they might be made a
spectacle to all the men of the fair. There, therefore, they lay for
some time, and were made the objects of any man's sport, or malice, or
revenge; the great one of the fair laughing still at all that befell
them. But the men being patient, and "not rendering railing for railing,
but contrariwise blessing," and giving good words for bad, and kindness
for injuries done, some men in the fair that were more observing and
less prejudiced than the rest, began to check and blame the baser
sort for their continual abuses done by them to the men. They,
therefore, in angry manner, let fly at them again, counting them as bad
as the men in the cage, and telling them that they seemed confederates
and should be made partakers of their misfortunes. The others replied,
that, for aught they could see, the men were quiet and sober, and
intended nobody any harm; and that there were many that traded in their
fair that were more worthy to be put into the cage, yea, and pillory
too, than were the men that they had abused. Thus, after divers words
had passed on both sides--the men behaving themselves all the while very
wisely and soberly before them--they fell to some blows among
themselves, and did harm one to another. Then were these two poor men
brought before their examiners again, and there charged as being guilty
of the late hubbub that had been in the fair. So they beat them
pitifully, and hanged irons upon them, and led them in chains up and
down the fair, for an example and terror to others, lest any should
speak in their behalf, or join themselves unto them. But Christian and
Faithful behaved themselves yet more wisely, and received the ignominy
and shame that was cast upon them with so much meekness and patience,
that it won to their side--though but few in comparison of the
rest--several of the men in the fair. This put the other party yet into
a greater rage, insomuch that they concluded the death of these two men.
Wherefore they threatened that neither cage nor irons should serve their
turn, but that they should die for the abuse they had done, and for
deluding the men of the fair.
Then were they remanded to the cage again until further order should be
taken with them. So they put them in, and made them fast in the stocks.
Here, therefore, they called again to mind what they had heard from
their faithful friend Evangelist, and were the more confirmed in their
way and sufferings, by what he told them would happen to them. They also
now comforted each other, that whose lot it was to suffer, even he
should have the best of it; therefore each man secretly wished that he
might have that preferment. But committing themselves to the all-wise
disposal of him that ruleth all things, with much content they abode in
the condition in which they were until they should be otherwise disposed
of.
Then a convenient time being appointed, they brought them forth to their
trial, in order to their condemnation. When the time was come, they were
brought before their enemies, and arraigned. The judge's name was Lord
Hate-good; their indictment was one and the same in substance, though
somewhat varying in form; the contents whereof was this: That they were
enemies to, and disturbers of, the trade; that they had made commotions
and divisions in the town, and had won a party to their own most
dangerous opinions, in contempt of the law of their prince.
Then Faithful began to answer, that he had only set himself against that
which had set itself against Him that is higher than the highest. And,
said he, as for disturbance, I make none, being myself a man of peace:
the parties that were won to us, were won by beholding our truth and
innocence, and they are only turned from the worse to the better. And as
to the king you talk of, since he is Beelzebub, the enemy of our Lord, I
defy him and all his angels.
Then proclamation was made, that they that had aught to say for their
lord the king against the prisoner at the bar, should forthwith appear,
and give in their evidence. So there came in three witnesses, to wit,
Envy, Superstition, and Pickthank. They were then asked, if they knew
the prisoner at the bar; and what they had to say for their lord the
king against him.
Then stood forth Envy, and said to this effect: My lord, I have known
this man a long time, and will attest upon oath before this honorable
bench, that he is--
_Judge._ Hold--give him his oath.
So they sware him. Then he said, My lord, this man, notwithstanding his
plausible name, is one of the vilest men in our country; he neither
regardeth prince nor people, law nor custom, but doeth all that he can
to possess all men with certain of his disloyal notions, which he in the
general calls principles of faith and holiness. And in particular, I
heard him once myself affirm, that Christianity and the customs of our
town of Vanity were diametrically opposite, and could not be reconciled.
By which saying, my lord, he doth at once not only condemn all our
laudable doings, but us in the doing of them.
Then did the judge say to him, Hast thou any more to say?
_Envy._ My lord, I could say much more, only I would not be tedious to
the court. Yet if need be, when the other gentlemen have given in their
evidence, rather than anything shall be wanting that will despatch him,
I will enlarge my testimony against him. So he was bid to stand by.
Then they called Superstition, and bid him look upon the prisoner at the
bar. They also asked, what he could say for their lord the king against
him. Then they sware him; so he began:
_Super._ My lord, I have no great acquaintance with this man, nor do I
desire to have further knowledge of him. However, this I know, that he
is a very pestilent fellow, from some discourse I had with him, the
other day, in this town; for then, talking with him, I heard him say,
that our religion was naught, and such by which a man could by no means
please God. Which saying of his, my lord, your lordship very well knows
what necessarily thence will follow, to wit, that we still do worship in
vain, are yet in our sins, and finally shall be damned: and this is that
which I have to say.
Then was Pickthank sworn, and bid say what he knew in behalf of their
lord the king against the prisoner at the bar.
_Pick._ My lord, and you gentlemen all, this fellow I have known of a
long time, and have heard him speak things that ought not to be spoken;
for he hath railed on our noble prince Beelzebub, and hath spoken
contemptibly of his honorable friends, whose names are, the Lord Old
Man, the Lord Carnal Delight, the Lord Luxurious, the Lord Desire of
Vain Glory, my old Lord Lechery, Sir Having Greedy, with all the rest of
our nobility; and he hath said, moreover, that if all men were of his
mind, if possible, there is not one of these noblemen should have any
longer a being in this town. Besides, he hath not been afraid to rail on
you, my lord, who are now appointed to be his judge, calling you an
ungodly villain, with many other suchlike vilifying terms, with which he
hath bespattered most of the gentry of our town.
When this Pickthank had told his tale, the judge directed his speech to
the prisoner at the bar, saying, Thou runagate, heretic, and traitor,
hast thou heard what these honest gentlemen have witnessed against thee?
_Faith._ May I speak a few words in my own defence?
_Judge._ Sirrah, sirrah, thou deservest to live no longer, but to be
slain immediately upon the place; yet that all men may see our
gentleness toward thee, let us hear what thou hast to say.
_Faith._ 1. I say, then, in answer to what Mr. Envy hath spoken, I never
said aught but this, that what rule, or laws, or customs, or people,
were flat against the word of God, are diametrically opposite to
Christianity. If I have said amiss in this, convince me of my error,
and I am ready here before you to make my recantation.
2. As to the second, to wit, Mr. Superstition, and his charge against
me, I said only this, that in the worship of God there is required a
divine faith; but there can be no divine faith without a divine
revelation of the will of God. Therefore, whatever is thrust into the
worship of God, that is not agreeable to divine revelation, cannot be
done but by a human faith, which faith will not be profitable to eternal
life.
3. As to what Mr. Pickthank has said, I say--avoiding terms, as that I
am said to rail, and the like--that the prince of this town, with all
the rabblement, his attendants, by this gentleman named, are more fit
for a being in hell than in this town and country. And so the Lord have
mercy upon me.
Then the judge called to the jury--who all this while stood by to hear
and observe--Gentlemen of the jury, you see this man about whom so great
an uproar hath been made in this town; you have also heard what these
worthy gentlemen have witnessed against him; also you have heard his
reply and confession: it lieth now in your breast to hang him, or save
his life; but yet I think meet to instruct you in our law.
There was an act made in the days of Pharaoh the Great, servant to our
prince, that, lest those of a contrary religion should multiply, and
grow too strong for him, their males should be thrown into the river.
There was also an act made in the day of Nebuchadnezzar the Great,
another of his servants, that whoever would not fall down and worship
his golden image, should be thrown into a fiery furnace. There was also
an act made in the days of Darius, that whoso for some time called upon
any God but him, should be cast into the lions' den. Now, the substance
of these laws this rebel has broken, not only in thought--which is not
to be borne--but also in word and deed; which must, therefore, needs be
intolerable.
For that of Pharaoh, his law was made upon a supposition, to prevent
mischief, no crime being yet apparent; but here is a crime apparent. For
the second and third, you see he disputeth against our religion; and for
the treason that he hath confessed, he deserveth to die the death.
Then went the jury out, whose names were Mr. Blindman, Mr. No-good, Mr.
Malice, Mr. Lovelust, Mr. Liveloose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr.
Enmity, Mr. Liar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hatelight, and Mr. Implacable; who
everyone gave in his private verdict against him among themselves, and
afterward unanimously concluded to bring him in guilty before the judge.
And first among themselves, Mr. Blindman, the foreman, said, I see
clearly that this man is a heretic. Then said Mr. No-good, Away with
such a fellow from the earth. Ay, said Mr. Malice, for I hate the very
looks of him. Then said Mr. Lovelust, I could never endure him. Nor I,
said Mr. Liveloose, for he would always be condemning my way. Hang him,
hang him, said Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr. High-mind. My heart
riseth against him, said Mr. Enmity. He is a rogue, said Mr. Liar.
Hanging is too good for him, said Mr. Cruelty. Let us despatch him out
of the way, said Mr. Hatelight. Then said Mr. Implacable, Might I have
all the world given me, I could not be reconciled to him; therefore, let
us forthwith bring him in guilty of death.
And so they did; therefore he was presently condemned to be had from the
place where he was, to the place from whence he came, and there to be
put to the most cruel death that could be invented.
They, therefore, brought him out, to do with him according to their law:
and first they scourged him, then they buffeted him, then they lanced
his flesh with knives; after that they stoned him with stones; then
pricked him with their swords; and last of all, they burned him to ashes
at the stake. Thus came Faithful to his end.
Now I saw that there stood behind the multitude a chariot and a couple
of horses, waiting for Faithful, who, so soon as his adversaries had
despatched him, was taken up into it, and straightway was carried up
through the clouds with sound of trumpet, the nearest way to the
celestial gate.
But as for Christian, he had some respite, and was remanded back to
prison; so he there remained for a space. But he who overrules all
things, having the power of their rage in his own hand, so wrought it
about, that Christian for that time escaped them, and went his way.
And as he went he sang, saying:
Well, Faithful, thou hast faithfully profest
Unto thy Lord, with whom thou shall be blest,
When faithless ones, with all their vain delights,
Are crying out under their hellish plights;
Sing, Faithful, sing, and let thy name survive,
For though they killed thee, thou art yet alive.
Now I saw in my dream that Christian went not forth alone; for there was
one whose name was Hopeful--being so made by the beholding of Christian
and Faithful in their words and behavior, in their sufferings at the
fair--who joined himself unto him, and entering into a brotherly
covenant, told him that he would be his companion. Thus one died to bear
testimony to the truth, and another rises out of his ashes to be a
companion with Christian in his pilgrimage. This Hopeful also told
Christian, that there were many more of the men in the fair that would
take their time and follow after.
I saw then that they went on their way to a pleasant river, which David
the king called "the river of God," but John, "the river of the water of
life." Now their way lay just upon the bank of this river; here,
therefore, Christian and his companion walked with great delight; they
drank also of the water of the river, which was pleasant and enlivening
to their weary spirits. Besides, on the banks of this river, on either
side, were green trees, with all manner of fruit; and the leaves they
ate to prevent surfeits, and other diseases that are incident to those
who heat their blood by travel. On either side of the river was also a
meadow, curiously beautified with lilies; and it was green all the year
long. In this meadow they lay down and slept, for here they might lie
down safely. When they awoke, they gathered again of the fruit of the
trees, and drank again of the water of the river, and then lay down
again to sleep. Thus they did several days and nights. Then they sang:
Behold ye how these crystal streams do glide,
To comfort pilgrims by the highway-side,
The meadows green, besides their fragrant smell,
Yield dainties for them; and he who can tell
What pleasant fruit, yea, leaves, these trees do yield,
Will soon sell all, that he may buy this field.
So when they were disposed to go on--for they were not as yet at their
journey's end--they ate and drank, and departed.
Now I beheld in my dream, that they had not journeyed far, but the river
and the way for a time parted, at which they were not a little sorry;
yet they durst not go out of the way. Now the way from the river was
rough, and their feet tender by reason of their travels; so the souls of
the pilgrims were much discouraged because of the way. Wherefore still
as they went on, they wished for a better way. Now a little before them,
there was on the left hand of the road a meadow, and a stile to go over
into it, and that meadow is called By-path Meadow. Then said Christian
to his fellow, If this meadow lieth along by our wayside, let's go over
into it. Then he went to the stile to see, and behold a path lay along
by the way on the other side of the fence. It is according to my wish,
said Christian; here is the easiest going; come, good Hopeful, and let
us go over.
_Hope._ But, how if this path should lead us out of the way?
That is not likely, said the other. Look, doth it not go along by the
wayside? So Hopeful, being persuaded by his fellow, went after him over
the stile. When they were gone over, and were got into the path, they
found it very easy for their feet; and withal, they looking before them,
espied a man walking as they did, and his name was Vain Confidence; so
they called after him, and asked him whither that way led. He said, To
the celestial gate. Look, said Christian, did not I tell you so? by this
you may see we are right. So they followed, and he went before them. But
behold the night came on, and it grew very dark; so that they that were
behind lost the sight of him that went before.
He therefore that went before--Vain Confidence by name--not seeing the
way before him, fell into a deep pit, which was on purpose there made,
by the prince of those grounds, to catch vainglorious fools withal, and
was dashed in pieces with his fall.
Now Christian and his fellow heard him fall. So they called to know the
matter, but there was none to answer, only they heard a groaning. Then
said Hopeful, Where are we now? Then was his fellow silent, as
mistrusting that he had led him out of the way; and now it began to
rain, and thunder and lighten in a most dreadful manner, and the water
rose amain.
Then Hopeful groaned in himself, saying, Oh that I had kept on my way!
_Chr._ Who could have thought that this path should have led us out of
the way?
_Hope._ I was afraid on it at the very first, and therefore gave you
that gentle caution. I would have spoken plainer, but that you are older
than I.
_Chr._ Good brother, be not offended; I am sorry I have brought thee out
of the way, and that I have put thee into such imminent danger. Pray, my
brother, forgive me; I did not do it of an evil intent.
_Hope._ Be comforted, my brother, for I forgive thee; and believe, too,
that this shall be for our good.
_Chr._ I am glad I have with me a merciful brother; but we must not
stand here; let us try to go back again.
_Hope._ But, good brother, let me go before.
_Chr_: No, if you please, let me go first, that if there be any danger,
I may be first therein, because by my means we are both gone out of the
way.
No, said Hopeful, you shall not go first, for your mind being troubled
may lead you out of the way again. Then, for their encouragement, they
heard the voice of one saying, "Let thine heart be toward the highway,
even the way that thou wentest; turn again." But by this time the waters
were greatly risen, by reason of which the way of going back was very
dangerous. (Then I thought that it is easier going out of the way when
we are in, than going in when we are out.) Yet they adventured to go
back; but it was so dark, and the flood was so high, that in their going
back they had like to have drowned nine or ten times.
Neither could they, with all the skill they had, get again to the stile
that night. Wherefore at last, lighting under a little shelter, they sat
down there until the day brake; but, being weary, they fell asleep. Now
there was, not far from the place they lay, a castle, called Doubting
Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair, and it was in his grounds
they now were sleeping: wherefore he, getting up in the morning early,
and walking up and down in his fields, caught Christian and Hopeful
asleep in his grounds. Then with a grim and surly voice he bid them
awake, and asked them whence they were, and what they did in his
grounds. They told him they were pilgrims, and that they had lost their
way. Then said the Giant, You have this night trespassed on me by
trampling in and lying on my grounds, and therefore you must go along
with me. So they were forced to go, because he was stronger than they.
They also had but little to say, for they knew themselves in a fault.
The Giant, therefore, drove them before him, and put them into his
castle, in a very dark dungeon, nasty, and stinking to the spirits of
these two men. Here, then, they lay from Wednesday morning till Saturday
night, without one bit of bread, drop of drink, or light, or any to ask
how they did; they were, therefore, here in evil case, and were far from
friends and acquaintance. Now in this place Christian had double sorrow,
because it was through his unadvised counsel that they were brought into
this distress.