Christian and Hopeful are Captives in Doubting Castle

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 the 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_, that bore all manner of Fruit; and the Leaves of the Trees were good for Medicine; with the Fruit of these Trees they were also much delighted; and the Leaves they ate to prevent Surfeits, and other Diseases that are incident to those that heat their blood by Travels. 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, and when they were disposed to go on they eat 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 soul of the Pilgrims was much discouraged because of the 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 way-side, 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. 'Tis 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? CHR. That's not like, said the other; look, doth it not go along by the way-side? 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 Coelestial Gate. Look, said _Christian_, did I not 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 _vain-glorious_ 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 very 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't 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 thus, let's try to go back again. HOPE. But good Brother let me go before. CHE. 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. HOPE. 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 towards the High-way, 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 been 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 till the day brake; but being weary, they fell asleep. Now there was not far from the place where they lay, a Castle called _Doubting Castle_, the owner whereof was Giant _Despair_, and it was in his grounds they were now 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, into 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, or 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 'twas through his unadvised haste that they were brought into this distress. Now Giant _Despair_ had a Wife, and her name was _Diffidence_. So when he was gone to bed, he told his Wife what he had done, to wit, that he had taken a couple of Prisoners and cast them into his Dungeon, for trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also what he had best do further to them. So she asked him what they were, whence they came, and whither they were bound; and he told her. Then she counselled him that when he arose in the morning he should beat them without any mercy. So when he arose, he getteth him a grievous Crab-tree Cudgel, and goes down into the Dungeon to them, and there first falls to rating of them, as if they were dogs, although they gave him never a word of distaste. Then he falls upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such sort, that they were not able to help themselves, or to turn them upon the floor. This done, he withdraws and leaves them, there to condole their misery, and to mourn under their distress: so all that day they spent the time in nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. The next night she talking with her Husband about them further, and understanding that they were yet alive, did advise him to counsel them to make away themselves. So when morning was come, he goes to them in a surly manner as before, and perceiving them to be very sore with the stripes that he had given them the day before, he told them, that since they were never like to come out of that place, their only way would be forthwith to make an end of themselves, either with Knife, Halter, or Poison; For why, said he, should you chuse life, seeing it is attended with so much bitterness? But they desired him to let them go. With that he looked ugly upon them, and rushing to them had doubtless made an end of them himself, but that he fell into one of his Fits, (for he sometimes in Sun-shine weather fell into Fits) and lost for a time the use of his hand; wherefore he withdrew, and left them as before, to consider what to do. Then did the Prisoners consult between themselves, whether 'twas best to take his counsel or no; and thus they began to discourse: [Illustration: CHRISTIAN NIMBLY STRETCHED OUT HIS HAND FOR HIS SWORD _From the etching by William Strang_] CHR. Brother, said _Christian_, what shall we do? The life that we now live is miserable: for my part I know not whether is best, to live thus, or to die out of hand. _My soul chuseth strangling rather than life,_ and the Grave is more easy for me than this Dungeon. Shall we be ruled by the Giant? HOPE. Indeed our present condition is dreadful, and death would be far more welcome to me than _thus_ for ever to abide; but yet let us consider, the Lord of the Country to which we are going hath said, Thou shalt do no murder, no not to another man's person; much more then are we forbidden to take his counsel to kill ourselves. And let us consider again, that all the Law is not in the hand of Giant _Despair_. Others, so far as I can understand, have been taken by him as well as we, and yet have escaped out of his hand. Who knows but that God that made the world may cause that Giant _Despair_ may die? or that at some time or other he may forget to lock us in? or but he may in short time have another of his Fits before us, and may lose the use of his limbs? and if ever that should come to pass again, for my part I am resolved to pluck up the heart of a man, and to try my utmost to get from under his hand. I was a fool that I did not try to do it before; but however, my Brother, let's be patient, and endure a while; the time may come that may give us a happy release; but let us not be our own murderers. With these words _Hopeful_ at present did moderate the mind of his Brother; so they continued together (in the dark) that day, in their sad and doleful condition. Well, towards evening the Giant goes down into the Dungeon again, to see if his prisoners had taken his counsel; but when he came there he found them alive, and truly, alive was all; for now, what for want of Bread and Water, and by reason of the Wounds they received when he beat them, they could do little but breathe: But, I say, he found them alive; at which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them that seeing they disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse with them than if they had never been born. At this they trembled greatly, and I think that _Christian_ fell into a Swoon; but coming a little to himself again, they renewed their discourse about the Giant's counsel, and whether yet they had best to take it or no. Now _Christian_ again seemed to be for doing it, but _Hopeful_ made his second reply as followeth: HOPE. My Brother, said he, rememberest thou not how valiant thou hast been heretofore? _Apollyon_ could not crush thee, nor could all that thou didst hear, or see, or feel in the Valley of the _Shadow of Death_. What hardship, terror, and amazement hast thou already gone through, and art thou now nothing but fear? Thou seest that I am in the Dungeon with thee, a far weaker man by nature than thou art; also this Giant has wounded me as well as thee, and hath also cut off the Bread and Water from my mouth; and with thee I mourn without the light. But let's exercise a little more patience, remember how thou playedst the man at Vanity Fair, and wast neither afraid of the Chain, nor Cage, nor yet of bloody Death: wherefore let us (at least to avoid the shame that becomes not a Christian to be found in) bear up with patience as well as we can. Now night being come again, and the Giant and his Wife being in bed, she asked him concerning the Prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel: To which he replied, They are sturdy Rogues, they chuse rather to bear all hardship, than to make away themselves. Then said she, Take them into the Castle-yard to-morrow, and shew them the Bones and Skulls of those that thou hast already dispatch'd, and make them believe, e'er a week comes to an end, thou also wilt tear them in pieces, as thou hast done their fellows before them. So when the morning was come, the Giant goes to them again, and takes them into the Castle-yard and shews them as his Wife had bidden him. These, said he, were Pilgrims as you are, once, and they trespassed in my grounds, as you have done; and when I thought fit, I tore them in pieces, and so within ten days I will do you. Go get you down to your Den again; and with that he beat them all the way thither. They lay therefore all day on _Saturday_ in a lamentable case, as before. Now when night was come, and when Mrs. Diffidence and her Husband the Giant were got to bed, they began to renew their discourse of their Prisoners; and withal the old Giant wondered, that he could neither by his blows nor counsel bring them to an end. And with that his Wife replied, I fear, said she, that they live in hope that some will come to relieve them, or that they have pick-locks about them, by the means of which they hope to escape. And sayest thou so, my dear? said the Giant, I will therefore search them in the morning. Well on _Saturday_ about midnight they began to _pray_, and continued in Prayer till almost break of day. Now a little before it was day, good _Christian_, as one half amazed, brake out in passionate speech: _What a fool_, quoth he, _am I, thus to lie in a stinking Dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty. I_ have a Key in my bosom called Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open any Lock in _Doubting_ Castle. Then said _Hopeful_, That's good news; good Brother, pluck it out of thy bosom and try. Then _Christian_ pulled it out of his bosom, and began to try at the Dungeon door, whose bolt (as he turned the Key) gave back, and the door flew open with ease, and _Christian_ and _Hopeful_ both came out. Then he went to the outward door that leads into the Castle-yard, and with his Key opened that door also. After he went to the iron Gate, for that must be opened too, but that Lock went damnable hard, yet the Key did open it. Then they thrust open the Gate to make their escape with speed; but that Gate as it opened made such a creaking, that it waked Giant _Despair_, who hastily rising to pursue his Prisoners, felt his limbs to fail, for his Fits took him again, so that he could by no means go after them. Then they went on, and came to the King's High-way again, and so were safe, because they were out of his jurisdiction. Now when they were gone over the Stile, they began to contrive with themselves what they should do at that Stile, to prevent those that should come after from falling into the hands of Giant _Despair_. So they consented to erect there a Pillar, and to engrave upon the side thereof this sentence, _Over this Stile is the way to_ Doubting _Castle, which is kept by Giant_ Despair, _who despiseth the King of the Coelestial Country, and seeks to destroy his holy Pilgrims._ Many therefore that followed after read what was written, and escaped the danger. This done, they sang as follows: Out of the way we went, and then we found What 'twas to tread upon forbidden ground; And let them that come after have a care, Lest heedlessness makes them, as we, to fare. Lest they for trespassing his prisoners are, Whose Castle's _Doubting, and whose name's Despair_.