seeing they had disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse with them
than if they had never been born.

At this they trembled greatly, and I think that _Christian_ fell into
a Swound; but coming a little to himself again, they renewed their
discourse about the Giant's counsel, and whether yet they had best to
take it or no. Now _Christian_ again seemed to be for doing it, but
_Hopeful_ made his second reply as followeth:

_Hope._ My Brother, said he, rememberest thou not how valiant thou
hast been heretofore? _Apollyon_ could not crush thee, nor could all
that thou didst hear, or see, or feel in the Valley of the _Shadow of
Death_. What hardship, terror, and amazement hast thou already gone
through, and art thou now nothing but fear? Thou seest that I am in
the Dungeon with thee, a far weaker man by nature than thou art; also
this Giant has wounded me as well as thee, and hath also cut off the
Bread and Water from my mouth; and with thee I mourn without the
light. But let's exercise a little more patience; remember how thou
played'st the man at _Vanity Fair_, and wast neither afraid of the
Chain, nor Cage, nor yet of bloody Death: wherefore let us (at least
to avoid the shame, that becomes not a Christian to be found in) bear
up with patience as well as we can.

Now night being come again, and the Giant and his Wife being in bed,
she asked him concerning the Prisoners, and if they had taken his
counsel. To which he replied, They are sturdy Rogues, they chuse
rather to bear all hardship, than to make away themselves. Then said
she, Take them into the Castle-yard to-morrow, and shew them the Bones
and Skulls of those that thou hast already dispatch'd, and make them
believe, e're a week comes to an end, thou also wilt tear them in