A RELATION OF THE HOLY WAR (17)

And now did they begin to feel what were the effects of stubborn rebellion, and unlawful resistance against their Prince.  I say, they now began to feel the effects thereof by guilt and fear, that now had swallowed them up; and who more involved in the one but they that were most in the other, to wit, the chief of the town of Mansoul?

To be brief: when the fame of the fright was out of the town, and the prisoners had a little recovered themselves, they take to themselves some heart, and think to petition the Prince for life again.  So they did draw up a third petition, the contents whereof were these:—

‘Prince Emmanuel the Great, Lord of all worlds, and Master of mercy, we, thy poor, wretched, miserable, dying town of Mansoul, do confess unto thy great and glorious Majesty that we have sinned against thy Father and thee, and are no more worthy to be called thy Mansoul, but rather to be cast into the pit.  If thou wilt slay us, we have deserved it.  If thou wilt condemn us to the deep, we cannot but say thou art righteous.  We cannot complain whatever thou dost, or however thou carriest it towards us.  But, oh! let mercy reign, and let it be extended to us!  Oh! let mercy take hold upon us, and free us from our transgressions, and we will sing of thy mercy and of thy judgment.  Amen.’

This petition, when drawn up, was designed to be sent to the Prince as the first.  But who should carry it?—that was the question.  Some said, ‘Let him do it that went with the first,’ but others thought not good to do that, and that because he sped no better.  Now, there was an old man in the town, and his name was Mr. Good-Deed; a man that bare only the name, but had nothing of the nature of the thing.  Now, some were for sending him; but the Recorder was by no means for that.  ‘For,’ said he, ‘we now stand in need of, and are pleading for mercy: wherefore, to send our petition by a man of this name, will seem to cross the petition itself.  Should we make Mr. Good-Deed our messenger, when our petition cries for mercy?

‘Besides,’ quoth the old gentleman, ‘should the Prince now, as he receives the petition, ask him, and say, “What is thy name?” as nobody knows but he will, and he should say, “Old Good-Deed,” what, think you, would Emmanuel say but this?  “Ay! is old Good-Deed yet alive in Mansoul? then let old Good-Deed save you from your distresses.”  And if he says so, I am sure we are lost; nor can a thousand of old Good-Deeds save Mansoul.’

After the Recorder had given in his reasons why old Good-Deed should not go with this petition to Emmanuel, the rest of the prisoners and chief of Mansoul opposed it also, and so old Good-Deed was laid aside, and they agreed to send Mr. Desires-awake again.  So they sent for him, and desired him that he would a second time go with their petition to the Prince, and he readily told them he would.  But they bid him that in anywise he should take heed that in no word or carriage he gave offence to the Prince; ‘For by doing so, for ought we can tell, you may bring Mansoul into utter destruction,’ said they.

Now Mr. Desires-awake, when he saw that he must go on this errand, besought that they would grant that Mr. Wet-Eyes might go with him.  Now this Mr. Wet-Eyes was a near neighbour of Mr. Desires, a poor man, a man of a broken spirit, yet one that could speak well to a petition; so they granted that he should go with him.  Wherefore, they address themselves to their business: Mr. Desires put a rope upon his head, and Mr. Wet-Eyes went with his hands wringing together.  Thus they went to the Prince’s pavilion.

Now, when they went to petition this third time, they were not without thoughts that, by often coming, they might be a burden to the Prince.  Wherefore, when they were come to the door of his pavilion, they first made their apology for themselves, and for their coming to trouble Emmanuel so often; and they said, that they came not hither to-day for that they delighted in being troublesome, or for that they delighted to hear themselves talk, but for that necessity caused them to come to his Majesty.  They could, they said, have no rest day nor night because of their transgressions against Shaddai and against Emmanuel, his Son.  They also thought that some misbehaviour of Mr. Desires-awake the last time might give distaste to his Highness, and so cause that he returned from so merciful a Prince empty, and without countenance.  So, when they had made this apology, Mr. Desires-awake cast himself prostrate upon the ground, as at the first, at the feet of the mighty Prince, saying, ‘Oh! that Mansoul might live before thee!’ and so he delivered his petition.  The Prince then, having read the petition, turned aside awhile as before, and coming again to the place where the petitioner lay on the ground, he demanded what his name was, and of what esteem in the account of Mansoul, for that he, above all the multitude in Mansoul, should be sent to him upon such an errand.  Then said the man to the Prince, ‘Oh let not my Lord be angry; and why inquirest thou after the name of such a dead do—as I am?  Pass by, I pray thee, and take not notice of who I am, because there is, as thou very well knowest, so great a disproportion between me and thee.  Why the townsmen chose to send me on this errand to my Lord is best known to themselves, but it could not be for that they thought that I had favour with my Lord.  For my part, I am out of charity with myself; who, then, should be in love with me?  Yet live I would, and so would I that my townsmen should; and because both they and myself are guilty of great transgressions, therefore they have sent me, and I am come in their names to beg of my Lord for mercy.  Let it please thee, therefore, to incline to mercy; but ask not what thy servants are.’

Then said the Prince, ‘And what is he that is become thy companion in this so weighty a matter?’  So Mr. Desires told Emmanuel that he was a poor neighbour of his, and one of his most intimate associates.  ‘And his name,’ said he, ‘may it please your most excellent Majesty, is Wet-Eyes, of the town of Mansoul, I know that there are many of that name that are naught; but I hope it will be no offence to my Lord that I have brought my poor neighbour with me.’

Then Mr. Wet-Eyes fell on his face to the ground, and made this apology for his coming with his neighbour to his Lord:—

‘O, my Lord,’ quoth he, ‘what I am I know not myself, nor whether my name be feigned or true, especially when I begin to think what some have said, namely, That this name was given me because Mr. Repentance was my father.  Good men have bad children, and the sincere do oftentimes beget hypocrites.  My mother also called me by this name from the cradle; but whether because of the moistness of my brain, or because of the softness of my heart, I cannot tell.  I see dirt in mine own tears, and filthiness in the bottom of my prayers.  But I pray thee (and all this while the gentleman wept) that thou wouldest not remember against us our transgressions, nor take offence at the unqualifiedness of thy servants, but mercifully pass by the sin of Mansoul, and refrain from the glorifying of thy grace no longer.’

So at his bidding they arose, and both stood trembling before him, and he spake to them to this purpose:—

‘The town of Mansoul hath grievously rebelled against my Father, in that they have rejected him from being their King, and did choose to themselves for their captain a liar, a murderer, and a runagate slave.  For this Diabolus, your pretended prince, though once so highly accounted of by you, made rebellion against my Father and me, even in our palace and highest court there, thinking to become a prince and king.  But being there timely discovered and apprehended, and for his wickedness bound in chains, and separated to the pit with those that were his companions, he offered himself to you, and you have received him.

‘Now this is, and for a long time hath been, a high affront to my Father; wherefore my Father sent to you a powerful army to reduce you to your obedience.  But you know how these men, their captains and their counsels, were esteemed of you, and what they received at your hand.  You rebelled against them, you shut your gates upon them, you bid them battle, you fought them, and fought for Diabolus against them.  So they sent to my Father for more power, and I, with my men, are come to subdue you.  But as you treated the servants, so you treated their Lord.  You stood up in hostile manner against me, you shut up your gates against me, you turned the deaf ear to me, and resisted as long as you could; but now I have made a conquest of you.  Did you cry me mercy so long as you had hopes that you might prevail against me?  But now I have taken the town, you cry; but why did you not cry before, when the white flag of my mercy, the red flag of justice, and the black flag that threatened execution, were set up to cite you to it?  Now I have conquered your Diabolus, you come to me for favour; but why did you not help me against the mighty?  Yet I will consider your petition, and will answer it so as will be for my glory.

‘Go, bid Captain Boanerges and Captain Conviction bring the prisoners out to me into the camp to-morrow, and say you to Captain Judgment and Captain Execution, “Stay you in the castle, and take good heed to yourselves that you keep all quiet in Mansoul until you shall hear further from me.”’  And with that he turned himself from them, and went into his royal pavilion again.

So the petitioners, having received this answer from the Prince, returned, as at the first, to go to their companions again.  But they had not gone far, but thoughts began to work in their minds that no mercy as yet was intended by the Prince to Mansoul.  So they went to the place where the prisoners lay bound; but these workings of mind about what would become of Mansoul had such strong power over them, that by that they were come unto them that sent them, they were scarce able to deliver their message.

But they came at length to the gates of the town, (now the townsmen with earnestness were waiting for their return,) where many met them, to know what answer was made to the petition.  Then they cried out to those that were sent, ‘What news from the Prince? and what hath Emmanuel said?’  But they said that they must, as afore, go up to the prison, and there deliver their message.  So away they went to the prison, with a multitude at their heels.  Now, when they were come to the gates of the prison, they told the first part of Emmanuel’s speech to the prisoners, to wit, how he reflected upon their disloyalty to his Father and himself, and how they had chosen and closed with Diabolus, had fought for him, hearkened to him, and been ruled by him; but had despised him and his men.  This made the prisoners look pale; but the messengers proceeded and said, ‘He, the Prince, said, moreover, that yet he would consider your petition, and give such answer thereto as would stand with his glory.’  And as these words were spoken, Mr. Wet-Eyes gave a great sigh.  At this they were all of them struck into their dumps, and could not tell what to say: fear also possessed them in a marvellous manner, and death seemed to sit upon some of their eyebrows.  Now, there was in the company a notable, sharp-witted fellow, a mean man of estate, and his name was old Inquisitive.  This man asked the petitioners if they had told out every whit of what Emmanuel said, and they answered, ‘Verily, no.’  Then said Inquisitive, ‘I thought so, indeed.  Pray, what was it more that he said unto you?’  Then they paused awhile; but at last they brought out all, saying, ‘The Prince bade us bid Captain Boanerges and Captain Conviction bring the prisoners down to him to-morrow; and that Captain Judgment and Captain Execution should take charge of the castle and town till they should hear further from him.  They said also that when the Prince had commanded them thus to do, he immediately turned his back upon them, and went into his royal pavilion.