« PreviousContinue »
done, and the day being come in which he was to depart, he entered the river as the rest : his last words were, Hold out, faith and patience. So he went over to the other side.
When many days had passed away, Mr. Despondency was sent for; a poft came, who brought this message to him: Trembling man, these are to summon thee to be ready with the King by the next Lord's day, to shout for joy, for deliverance from all thy doubtings. And, said the messenger, that my message is true, take this for a proof: so he gave him a grasshopper to be a burden unto him. Now Mr. Despondency's daughter, whose name was Muchafraid, said, when she heard what was done, that she would go with her father. Then Mr. Despondency said to his friends, As to myself and my daughter, you know what we have been, and how troublesome we have behaved ourselves in every company: my will, and my daughter's, is, That our desponds and Navish fears be by no man received, from the day of our departure, even for ever. But I know that after my death they will offer themselves to others; for, to be plain with you, they are guests which we entertained when we first began to be pilgrims, and we could never shake them off entirely after: they will walk about, and feek entertainment among pilgrims; but for our fakes, shut the doors upon them.
When the time was come for them to depart, they went up to the brink of the river. The last 8
words of Mr. Despondency were, Farewell, night; welcome, day. His daughter went through the river singing, but none could understand what she said.
Then it came to pass a while after, that there was a post in the town, who inquired for Mr. Honeft. So he came to the house where he was, and delivered into his hands these lines: Thou art commanded to be ready, against this day sevennight, to present thyself before thy Lord, at his Father's house. And for a token that my message is true, All the daughters of music shall be brought low. Then Mr. Honest called for his friends, and said unto them, I die, but shall make no will. As for my honesty, it shall go with me; let him who comes after be told of this. When the day came that he was to go, he addressed himself to pass over the river. Now the river at that time overflowed the banks in some places; but Mr. Honest in his lifetime had spoken to one Good-conscience to meet him there, which he did, and lent him his hand, and so helped him over. The last words of Mr. Honest were, Grace reigns: so he left the world.
After this, it was noised abroad that Mr. Valiantfor-truth was served with a summons by the same post as the other; and had this for a token that the summons was true, That his pitcher was broken at the fountain. When he understood it, he called for his friends, and told them of it. Then, said he, I am going to my Father's, and though with culty I have got hither, yet now I do not repent me F f 2
great diffiof all the trouble I have been at to arrive where I am. My sword I give to him who shall succeed me in my pilgrimage; and my courage and skill to him who can get it. My marks and scars I carry with me, to be witnesses for me, that I have fought his battle who now will be my rewarder. When the day came that he must go hence, many accompanied him to the river-side, into which as he went, he said, Death, where is now thy fting? And as he went down deeper, he said, Grave, where is now thy victory? So he passed over, and all the trumpets founded for his arrival on the other side.
Then came forth a summons for Mr. Standfaft. This Mr. Standfast was he whom the pilgrims found upon his knees in the Enchanted Ground. The post brought it him open in his hands. The contents whereof were, That he must prepare for a change of life, for his Master was not willing that he should be so far from him any longer. At this Mr. Standfast was put into a muse: Nay, faith the mefsenger, you need not doubt the truth of my mesfage ; for here is a token of the truth thereof, Thy wheel is broken at the cistern. Then he called to him Mr. Great-heart, who was their guide, and said unto him, Sir, although it was not my hap to be much in your good company in the days of my pilgrimage, yet, since the time I knew you, you have been profitable to me.
When I came from kome, I left behind me a wife, and five small children; let me entreat you, at your return (for I