Our tears to joy, our fears to faith, Are turned, as we see, That our beginning, as one saith, Shows what our end will be.
Now there was, on the other side of the wall that fenced in the way up which Christiana and her companions were to go, a garden, and that garden belonged to him whose was that barking dog of whom mention was made before. And some of the fruit-trees that grew in that garden shot their branches over the wall; and being mellow, they that found them did gather them up, and oft eat of them to their hurt. So Christiana’s boys, as boys are apt to do, being pleased with the trees, and with the fruit that did hang thereon, did plash them, and began to eat. Their mother did also chide them for so doing, but still the boys went on.
Well, said she, my sons, you transgress, for that fruit is none of ours; but she did not know that they did belong to the enemy; I will warrant you, if she had, she would have been ready to die for fear. But that passed, and they went on their way. Now, by that they were gone about two bowshots from the place that let them into the way, they espied two very ill-favoured ones coming down apace to meet them. With that, Christiana and Mercy, her friend, covered themselves with their veils, and so kept on their journey; the children also went on before; so that at last they met together. Then they that came down to meet them, came just up to the women, as if they would embrace them; but Christiana said, Stand back, or go peaceably by, as you should. Yet these two, as men that are deaf, regarded not Christiana’s words, but began to lay hands upon them. At that Christiana, waxing very wroth, spurned at them with her feet. Mercy also, as well as she could, did what she could to shift them. Christiana again said to them, Stand back, and begone; for we have no money to lose, being pilgrims, as you see, and such, too, as live upon the charity of our friends.
Ill-favoured. Then said one of the two of the men, We make no assault upon you for money, but are come out to tell you, that if you will but grant one small request, which we shall ask, we will make women of you forever.
Christ. Now Christiana, imagining what they should mean, made answer again, We will neither bear, nor regard, nor yield to what you shall ask. We are in haste, cannot stay; our business is a business of life and death. So, again, she and her companions made a fresh essay to go past them; but they letted them in their way.
Ill-fav. And they said, We intend no hurt to your lives; it is another thing we would have.
Christ. Ah, quoth Christiana, you would have us body and soul, for I know it is for that you are come; but we will die rather upon the spot, than suffer ourselves to be brought into such snares as shall hazard our well-being hereafter. And with that they both shrieked out, and cried, Murder! murder! and so put themselves under those laws that are provided for the protection of women. But the men still made their approach upon them, with design to prevail against them. They, therefore, cried out again.
Now, they being, as I said, not far from the gate in at which they came, their voice was heard from where they were, thither; wherefore some of the house came out, and knowing that it was Christiana’s tongue, they made haste to her relief. But by that they were got within sight of them, the women were in a very great scuffle, the children also stood crying by. Then did he that came in for their relief call out to the ruffians, saying, What is that thing that you do? Would you make my Lord’s people to transgress? He also attempted to take them, but they did make their escape over the wall, into the garden of the man to whom the great dog belonged; so the dog became their protector. This Reliever then came up to the women, and asked them how they did. So they answered, We thank thy Prince, pretty well; only we have been somewhat affrighted; we thank thee also, for that thou camest in to our help, for otherwise we had been overcome.
Reliever. So after a few more words, this Reliever said as followeth: I marveled much when you were entertained at the gate above, being, [as] ye knew, that ye were but weak women, that you petitioned not the Lord there for a conductor; then might you have avoided these troubles and dangers, for He would have granted you one.
Christ. Alas! said Christiana, we were so with our present blessing, that dangers to come were forgotten by us; besides, who could have thought, that so near the King’s palace, there should have lurked such naughty ones? Indeed, it had been well for us, had we asked our Lord for one; but, since our Lord knew it would be for our profit, I wonder He sent not one along with us!
Rel. It is not always necessary to grant things not asked for, lest, by so doing, they become of little esteem; but when the want of a thing is felt, it then comes under, in the eyes of him that feels it, that estimate that properly is its due, and so, consequently, will be thereafter used. Had my Lord granted you a conductor, you would not neither so have bewailed that oversight of yours, in not asking for one, as now you have occasion to do. So all things work for good, and tend to make you more wary.
Christ. Shall we go back again to my Lord, and confess our folly, and ask one?
Rel. Your confession of your folly I will present Him with. To go back again you need not; for in all places where you shall come, you will find no want at all; for in every of my Lord’s lodgings, which He has prepared for the reception of His pilgrims, there is sufficient to furnish them against all attempts whatsoever. But, as I said, “He will be inquired of by them, to do it for them.” And it is a poor thing that is not worth asking for. When he had thus said, he went back to his place, and the Pilgrims went on their way.
Mercy. Then said Mercy, What a sudden blank is here! I made account we had now been past all danger, and that we should never see sorrow more.
Christ. Thy innocency, my sister, said Christiana to Mercy, may excuse thee much; but as for me, my fault is so much the greater, for that I saw this danger before I came out of the doors, and yet did not provide for it where provision might have been had. I am therefore much to be blamed.
Mercy. Then said Mercy, How knew you this before you came from home? Pray open to me this riddle.
Christ. Why, I will tell you. Before I set foot out of doors, one night, as I lay in my bed, I had a dream about this; for, methought I saw two men, as like these as ever the world they could look, stand at my bed’s feet, plotting how they might prevent my salvation. I will tell you their very words. They said (it was when I was in my troubles), What shall we do with this woman? for she cries out, waking and sleeping, for forgiveness. If she be suffered to go on as she begins, we shall lose her, as we have lost her husband. This, you know, might have made me take heed, and have provided when provision might have been had.
Mercy. Well, said Mercy, as by this neglect we have an occasion ministered unto us, to behold our own imperfections; so our Lord has taken occasion thereby, to make manifest the riches of His grace; for He, as we see, has followed us with unasked kindness, and has delivered us from their hands that were stronger than we, of His mere good pleasure.
Thus, now when they had talked away a little more time, they drew nigh to a house which stood in the way, which house was built for the relief of pilgrims; as you will find more fully related in the First Part of these Records of the Pilgrim’s Progress. So they drew on towards the house (the House of the Interpreter), and when they came to the door, they heard a great talk in the house. They then gave ear, and heard, as they thought, Christiana mentioned by name. For you must know that there went along, even before her, a talk of her and her children’s going on pilgrimage. And this thing was the more pleasing to them, because they had heard that she was Christian’s wife, that woman who was sometime ago so unwilling to hear of going on pilgrimage. Thus, therefore, they stood still, and heard the good people within commending her, who, they little thought, stood at the door. At last Christiana knocked, as she had done at the gate before. Now, when she had knocked, there came to the door a young damsel, named Innocent, and opened the door and looked, and behold two women were there.
Damsel. Then said the damsel to them, With whom would you speak in this place?
Christ. Christiana answered, We understand that this is a privileged place for those that are become pilgrims, and we now at this door are such; wherefore we pray that we may be partakers of that for which we at this time are come; for the day, as thou seest, is very far spent, and we are loath tonight to go any further.
Damsel. Pray, what may I call your name, that I may tell it to my Lord within?
Christ. My name is Christiana; I was the wife of that pilgrim, that some years ago did travel this way, and these be his four children. This maiden also is my companion, and is going on pilgrimage too.
Innocent. Then ran Innocent in (for that was her name) and said to those within, Can you think who is at the door? There is Christiana and her children, and her companion, all waiting for entertainment here. Then they leaped for joy, and went and told their Master. So He came to the door, and looking upon her, He said, Art thou that Christiana whom Christian, the good man, left behind him, when he betook himself to a pilgrim’s life?
Christ. I am that woman that was so hard-hearted, as to slight my husband’s troubles, and that left him to go on in his journey alone, and these are his four children; but now I also am come, for I am convinced that no way is right but this.