The Pilgrim's Progress

Now, as Christian went on his way, he came to a little ascent, which was cast up on purpose that pilgrims might see before them. Up there, therefore, Christian went, and looking forward, he saw Faithful before him upon his journey. Then said Christian aloud, At that, Faithful looked behind him, to whom Christian cried again. But Faithful answered, At this, Christian was somewhat moved, and putting to all his strength, he quickly got up with Faithful, and did also overrun him. So the last was first. Then did Christian vaingloriously smile, because he had gotten the start of his brother. But not taking good heed to his feet, he suddenly stumbled and fell, and could not rise again until Faithful came up to help him. Then I saw in my dream they went very lovingly on together, and had sweet discourse of all that had happened to them in their pilgrimage. And thus Christian began, Presently after you were gone out, that our city would in short time, with fire from heaven, be burned down to the ground. What? Did your neighbors talk so? Yes. It was for a while in everybody's mouth. What? And did no more of them but you come out to escape the danger? 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 discourse, I heard some of them deridingly speak of you, 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. Did you hear no talk of neighbor Pliable? Yes, Christian. I heard that he followed you till he came at the slough of Despond, whereas 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. And what said the neighbors to him? He hath, since his going back, been had greatly indurision, and that among all sorts of people, some do mock and despise him, and scarce will any set him on work. He is now seven times worse than if he had never gone out of the city. But why should they be so set against him, since they also despise the way that he forsook? 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 make him a proverb, because he hath forsaken the way. Had you no talk with him before you came out? 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. 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 has turned to his own vomit again, and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire. These are my fears of him too. But who can hinder that which will be?