esday
morning till Saturday night, without one bit of bread, or drop of
drink, or light, or any to ask how they did; they were, therefore,
here in evil case, and were far from friends and acquaintance. Now
in this place Christian had double sorrow, because it was through
his unadvised counsel that they were brought into this distress.

The pilgrims now, to gratify the flesh,
Will seek its ease; but oh! how they afresh
Do thereby plunge themselves new griefs into!
Who seek to please the flesh, themselves undo.

{284} Now, Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffidence.
So when he was gone to bed, he told his wife what he had done; to
wit, that he had taken a couple of prisoners and cast them into his
dungeon, for trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also
what he had best to do further to them. So she asked him what they
were, whence they came, and whither they were bound; and he told
her. Then she counselled him that when he arose in the morning he
should beat them without any mercy. So, when he arose, he getteth
him a grievous crab-tree cudgel, and goes down into the dungeon
to them, and there first falls to rating of them as if they were
dogs, although they never gave him a word of distaste. Then he
falls upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such sort that they
were not able to help themselves, or to turn them upon the floor.
This done, he withdraws and leaves them there to condole their
misery and to mourn under their distress. So all that day they
spent the time in nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. The
next night, she, talking with her husband about them further, and
understanding they were yet alive, did advise him to counsel them
to make away themselves. So when morning was come, he goes to them
in a surly manner as before, and perceiving them to be very sore
with the stripes that he had given them the day before, he told
them, that since they were never like to come out of that place,
their only way would be forthwith to make an end of themselves,
either with knife, halter, or poison, for why, said he, should you
choose life, seeing it is attended with so much bitterness? But
they desired him to let them go. With that he looked ugly upon
them, and, rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of them
himself, but that he fell into one of his fits, (for he sometimes, in
sunshiny weather, fell into fits), and lost for a time the use of
his hand; wherefore he with