ience to the message he was commanded to
deliver, but there was none that appeared to give answer or regard.

Again and again was the summons sounded, till at last the townsmen came
up--having first made Eargate as sure as they could. So my lord
Incredulity, came up and showed himself over the wall. But when the
captain had set eyes on him he cried out aloud, "This is not he; where
is my lord Understanding, the ancient mayor of the town of Mansoul?"
Then stood forth the four captains, and, taking no notice of the giant
Diabolus, each addressed himself to the town of Mansoul; but their brave
speeches the town refused to hear, yet the sound thereof beat against
Eargate, though the force thereof could not break it open.

Then Diabolus commanded the lord mayor Incredulity to give answer, and
his oration was seconded by desperate Will-be-will, while the recorder,
whose name was Forget-good, followed with threats. Then did the town of
Mansoul shout for joy, as if by Diabolus and his crew some great
advantage had been obtained over the captains. They also rang the bells,
and sang and made merry, and danced for joy upon the walls. Now, when
the captains heard the answer of the great ones, and they could not get
a hearing from the old natives of the town, they resolved to try it out
by the power of the arm; so with their slings they battered the houses,
and with rams they sought to break Eargate open, but Mansoul stood it
out so lustily that after several skirmishes and brisk encounters they
made a fair retreat and entrenched themselves in their winter quarters.

But now could not Mansoul sleep securely as before, nor could they go to
their debaucheries with quietness, as in times past, for they had from
the camp of Shaddai such frequent warm alarms, yea, alarms upon alarms,
first at one gate and then at another, and again at all the gates at
once, that they were broken as to former peace; yea, so distressed were
they that I daresay Diabolus, their king, had in these days his rest
much broken. And by degrees new thoughts possessed the minds of the men
of the town. Some would say, "There is no living thus." Others would
then reply, "This will be over shortly." Then a third would answer, "Let
us turn to King Shaddai, and so put an end to all these troubles." The
old gentlemen, too, Mr. Conscience, the recorder that was so before
Diabolus took Mansoul, began to talk aloud, and his words were now like
great claps of thunder. Yea, s