The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan Every Child Can Read
He'll with a giant fight,
But he will have a right
To be a pilgrim.
"Hobgoblin nor foul fiend
Can daunt his spirit;
He knows he at the end
Shall life inherit.
Then, fancies fly away,
He'll fear not what men say;
He'll labor night and day
To be a pilgrim."
CHAPTER IX.
THE ENCHANTED GROUND.
By this time they were got to the Enchanted Ground, 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
arbor, upon which if a man sits, or in which if a man sleeps, it is a
question, say some, whether ever he shall rise or wake again in this
world. Over this forest, therefore, they went, both one and another; and
Mr. Great-heart went before, for that he was the guide, and Mr.
Valiant-for-truth 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 for one
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, they made a pretty good shift to wag along.
The way also was here very wearisome through dirt and slabbiness. Nor
was there on all this ground so much as one inn or victualling-house,
therein to refresh the feebler sort. Here, therefore, was grunting, and
puffing and sighing. While one tumbleth over a brush, another sticks
fast in the dirt; and the children, some 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 me, I think I
cannot get away from them."
Then they came at an arbor, 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 I 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 arbor 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 also never goes without his
tinder-box), and takes a view of his book or map, which bids him be
careful in that place to turn to the right-hand way. And had he not here
been careful to look in his map, they had, in all 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 those maps about him, that he may look, when he is at a stand,
which is the way he must take?"
They went on then in this Enchanted Ground till they came to where was
another arbor, and it was built by the highway-side. And in that arbor
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,
they 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 wake
them; that is, if they could; but with this caution, namely, to take
heed that themselves did not sit down nor embrace the offered benefit of
that arbor.
So they went in and spake to the men, and called each one by his name
(for the guide, it seems, did know them); but there was no voice or
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.
[Sidenote: THE LAND OF BEULAH]
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 shall I awake? I will
seek it yet again.' You know, when men talk in their sleep, they say
anything, but their words are not governed either by faith or reason.
There is an unsuitableness in their words now, as there was before
betwixt their going on pilgrimage and sitting down there. This, then, is
the mischief of it: when heedless ones go on pilgrimage, 'tis twenty to
one but they are served 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 near to the Land of 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 wake 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. But the children began to be sorely weary;
and they cried out to 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 lift up,
and speaking, as they thought, earnestly 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, "So-ho, friend! let us
have your company, if 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 him, he said, "I know this man."
Then said Mr. Valiant-for-truth, "Prithee, who is it?"
"It is one," said he, "that comes from whereabout I dwelt. His name is
Stand-fast; he is certainly a right good pilgrim."
So they came up one to another. And presently Stand-fast said to old
Honest, "Ho, father Honest, are you there?"
"Ay," said he, "that I am, as sure as you are there."
[Sidenote: HEEDLESS AND TOO-BOLD]
"Right glad am I," said Mr. Stand-fast, "that I have found you on this
road."
"And as glad am I," said the other, "that I espied you upon your knees."
Then Mr. Stand-fast 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 Stand-fast.
"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 Stand-fast, "how happy am I! But, if I
be not as I should, I alone must bear it."
"That is true," said the other; "but your fear doth further show me that
things are right betwixt the Prince of pilgrims and your soul; for He
saith, 'Blessed is the man that feareth always.'"
VALIANT. 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 upon thee, the need of prayer, or how?
STAND. 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 road 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, painful disease: the death which such die is
not grievous to them. For he that goeth away in such a sleep, begins
that journey with desire and pleasure. Yea, such sink into the will of
that disease.
HON. Then Mr. Honest, interrupting of him, said, "Did you see the two
men asleep in the arbor?"
[Sidenote: STAND-FAST REPULSES MADAM]
STAND. Ay, ay, I saw Heedless and Too-bold there; and, for aught I know,
there they will lie till they rot. But let me go on in my tale. As I was
thus musing, as I said, there was one in very pleasant attire, but old,
who presented herself to me, and offered me three things; to wit, her
body, her purse, and her bed. Now, the truth is, I was both aweary and
sleepy; I am also as poor as an owlet, and that, perhaps, the witch
knew. Well, I repulsed her once or twice; but she put by my repulses,
and smiled. Then I began to be angry; but she mattered that nothing at
all. Then she made offers again, and said, if I would be ruled by her,
she would make me great and happy. "For," said she, "I am the mistress
of the world, and men are made happy by me." Then I asked her name, and
she told me it was Madam Bubble. This set me farther from her; but she
still followed me with enticements. Then I betook me, as you saw, to my
knees; and, with hands lift up, and cries, I prayed to Him that had said
He would help. So, just as you came up, the gentlewoman went her way.
Then I continued to give thanks for this my great deliverance; for I
verily believe she intended no good, but rather sought to make stop of
me in my journey.