had a comfortable hour therein; also that Mr. Despondency had like to have been starved therein: yea, and also (which I had almost forgot) that Christian himself, about whom there had been such a noise, after all his ventures for a celestial crown, was certainly drowned in the Black River, and never went a foot further, however it was smothered up.
Great. And did none of these things discourage you?
Valiant. No; they seemed but as so many nothings to me.
Great. How came that about?
Valiant. Why, I still believed what Mr. Tell-true had said; and that carried me beyond them all.
Great. Then this was your victory, even your faith.
Valiant. It was so. I believed, and therefore came out, got into the way, fought all that set themselves against me and, by believing, am come to this place.
Who would true valour see,
Let him come hither;
One here will constant be,
Come wind, come weather;
There's no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent
To be a pilgrim.
Whose beset him round
With dismal stories,
Do but themselves confound;
His strength the more is.
No lion can him fright,
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 not fear what men say:
He'll labour night and day
To be a pilgrim.
