Читать книгу The Pilgrim’s Progress - John Bunyan - Страница 39

FAITH. Till I could stay no longer; for there was great talk, presently after you were gone out, that our city would, in a short time, with fire from heaven, be burned down to the ground.

CHRIS. What! did your neighbors talk so?

FAITH. Yes, it was for a while in everybody’s mouth.

CHRIS. What! and did no more of them but you come out to escape the danger?

FAITH. Though there was, as I said, a great talk thereabout, yet I do not think they did firmly believe it. For, in the heat of the talking I heard some of them deridingly speak of you, and of your desperate journey; for so they called this your pilgrimage. But I did believe, and do still, that the end of our city will be with fire and brimstone from above; and therefore I have made my escape.

CHRIS. Did you hear no talk of neighbor Pliable?

FAITH. Yes, Christian; I heard that he followed you till he came to the Slough of Despond, where, as some said, he fell in; but he would not be known to have so done; but I am sure he was soundly bedabbled with that kind of dirt.

CHRIS. And what said the neighbors to him?

FAITH. He hath, since his going back, been held greatly in derision, and that among all sorts of people: some do mock and despise him, and scarce any will set him on work. He is now seven times worse than if he had never gone out of the city.

CHRIS. But why should they be set so against him, since they also despise the way that he forsook?

FAITH. “Oh,” they say, “hang him; he is a turncoat! he was not true to his profession!” I think God has stirred up even his enemies to hiss at him and laugh at him, because he hath forsaken the way.

CHRIS. Had you no talk with him before you came out?

FAITH. I met him once in the streets, but he leered away on the other side, as one ashamed of what he had done; so I spake not to him.

CHRIS. Well, at my first setting out, I had hopes of that man, but now I fear he will perish in the overthrow of the city. For it has happened to him according to the true proverb, “The dog is turned to his vomit again, and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire.”

FAITH. These are my fears of him too; but who can hinder that which will be?

CHRIS. “Well, neighbor Faithful,” said Christian, “let us leave him, and talk of things that more immediately concern ourselves. Tell me now what you have met with in the way as you came; for I know you have met with some things, or else it may be writ for a wonder.”

FAITH. I escaped the slough that I perceive you fell into, and got up to the gate without that danger; only I met with one whose name was Wanton, that had like to have done me a mischief.

CHRIS. It was well you escaped her net: Joseph was hard put to it by her, and he escaped her as you did; but it had like to have cost him his life. But what did she do to you?

FAITH. You cannot think (but that you know something) what a flattering tongue she had; she lay at me hard to turn aside with her, promising me all manner of enjoyment.

CHRIS. Nay, she did not promise you the enjoyment of a good conscience.

FAITH. You know what I mean—not the enjoyment of the soul, but of the body.

CHRIS. Thank God you have escaped her: the abhorred of the Lord shall fall into her ditch.

FAITH. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly escape her or no.

CHRIS. Why, I suppose you did not consent to her desires?

FAITH. No, not to defile myself; for I remembered an old writing that I had seen which saith, “Her steps take hold of hell.” So I shut mine eyes, because I would not be bewitched with her looks. Then she railed on me, and I went my way.

CHRIS. Did you meet with no other assault as you came?