“Listen,” said Hopeful, startled by the creaking protest of a distant gate.
“Oh, no!” lamented Christian. “He comes again.”
“Perhaps to set us free!” exclaimed Hopeful.
“Pah,” replied Christian, astounded at Hopeful’s boundless optimism. “Hopeful be thy name, and against all reason, hopeful be thy mind.”
“But he might!” persisted Hopeful.
“No,” groaned Christian, not even lifting his head from his hands at Despair’s approach. “No. Despair will never set us free.”
“What? Alive still!” bellowed Despair as he angrily wrenched open the door.
“Yes, by God’s grace,” said Hopeful boldly, no longer fearing Despair’s cudgel.
“Ye must not speaks that name here!” roared Despair, bitterly. “Take that!” he snorted as he struck Hopeful a lusty blow on the back.
“Ugh!” grunted Hopeful involuntarily.
Then the giant glared upon him and said, “I trust that henceforth there will be no more such vile language heard here in me drippy dungeon. Now then, back to business. Business? What business? Oh, yes! Business. Ahem. I have counseled again with my dear wife, bless her gentle soul.”
Now at the mere mention of his wife’s gentle counsel, the prisoners began to tremble in their boots but still kept their silence.
“Well?” scowled the giant impatiently. “Don’t ye wants to know her good counsel?”
“No,” said Hopeful.
“What!” snarled the giant angrily. “Insult me wife, will ye! Then take that!” he spat as he landed a resounding blow upon Hopeful’s shoulder.
“Ow!” moaned Hopeful softly.
“And you there, in the rusty armor. Don’t ye wants to know her good counsels?”
“Uh . . . yes,” said Christian, choosing what seemed to be a safer approach.
“So!” snapped the beast. “Being nosey, are ye? Take that!” he shouted as he landed a clanging blow upon Christian’s well-dented helmet.
“Ow!” cried Christian miserably. “Oh, please have mercy, gentle king.”
“I have tolds thee that I be not gentle!” Despair screamed, blood- shot eyes bulging in fury. “I am a tyrant! A tyrant of the worst sort! I have no mercy, know no mercy, show no mercy. Therefore, take that!”
“Ow!” cried Christian, wishing that the giant would have the decency to simply murder him and be done with it.
“Now then,” leered the giant as he waved the cruel cudgel under their noses like a charmed snake, “do ye wishes to know her good counsel?”
“Uh, as you deem it best, your Highness,” answered Hopeful discreetly.
“And you?” he asked, glowering threateningly at Christian.
“Uh . . . a . . . as you deem it best, your Highness,” he replied.
“Hmmph!” snorted the giant, disappointed at the lack of further excuse for cruelty. “Then listen up good, lads,” he said as he got down on one knee and spread a light-colored leather bag before them. “Since I be of such an evil temper, and since I know no mercy, nor show no mercy, and since none have escaped from my castle of Doubt (except by way of my kitchen, heh, heh, heh), and since it is impossible that ye shall either, her good counsel to thee is that you should use these.” And with those words, he drew out three deadly objects.
“What are they?” queried Hopeful.
“I have brought for thee a vial with deadly poison,” he said, setting forth a tiny blue vial, “a knife, sharp and long,” he continued, laying down a ceremonial dagger with jeweled handle, “and a noose for the neck,” he concluded, bringing out a long, stout cord tied in a hangman’s knot.
“What are these for?” quizzed Hopeful.
“What for!” blustered Despair, screaming into Hopeful’s face. “Why, for to do with thyselves away, of course!”
“Kill ourselves?” asked Hopeful incredulously.
“Of course!” answered the giant with a sarcastic sneer. “For why should you choose to live on, seeing your life is attended with such bitterness? Especially . . . heh, heh, heh . . . especially in the depths of Despair’s dark dungeon of Doom.”
“We would rather be set free,” cried Hopeful undaunted.
“Free!” screamed the giant, starting back in shocked disbelief. “Do you dare to speak of freedom from Doubt! Grrr . . . I will slay thee for that!”
With that, the giant seized the dagger and with a look of ugly hatred moved to make an end of Hopeful himself. But in the good providence of God, the clouds of that country parted for a brief moment. Then, by way of angel-held mirrors, a ray of reflected sunshine zinged its way into the darkness of the dungeon. This caused the giant to fall into one of those fits that always attack him when the light breaks forth. Therefore, since he was now unable to continue on with his murderous intentions, he locked the door and withdrew, saying, “I shall return. But let me assure you, that it will be a much more pleasant death if you do away with yourselves. For if I have to do it for thee . . . Heh, heh, heh . . . it could take daaaayyyzzzz.” And with these words, the giant took his leave of them, although he weaved a bit more unsteadily due to his exposure to the light.