So they took their leaves of my lord, and returned, and went, and came to the captains, to whom they did tell what my Lord High Secretary had said; who, when they had heard it, were all of the same opinion as was my Lord Mayor himself. The captains, therefore, began to take some courage unto them, and to prepare to make some brave attempt upon the camp of the enemy, and to destroy all that were Diabolonians, with the roving doubters that the tyrant had brought with him to destroy the poor town of Mansoul.
So all betook themselves forthwith to their places—the Captains to theirs, the Lord Mayor to his, the subordinate preacher to his, and my Lord Willbewill to his. The captains longed to be at some work for their prince; for they delighted in warlike achievements. The next day, therefore, they came together and consulted; and after consultation had, they resolved to give an answer to the captain of Diabolus with slings; and so they did at the rising of the sun on the morrow; for Diabolus had adventured to come nearer again, but the sling-stones were to him and his like hornets. For as there is nothing to the town of Mansoul so terrible as the roaring of Diabolus’s drum, so there is nothing to Diabolus so terrible as the well playing of Emmanuel’s slings. Wherefore Diabolus was forced to make another retreat, yet further off from the famous town of Mansoul. Then did the Lord Mayor of Mansoul cause the bells to be rung, ‘and that thanks should be sent to the Lord High Secretary by the mouth of the subordinate preacher; for that by his words the captains and elders of Mansoul had been strengthened against Diabolus.’
When Diabolus saw that his captains and soldiers, high lords and renowned, were frightened, and beaten down by the stones that came from the golden slings of the Prince of the town of Mansoul, he bethought himself, and said, ‘I will try to catch them by fawning, I will try to flatter them into my net.’
Wherefore, after a while, he came down again to the wall, not now with his drum, nor with Captain Sepulchre; but having all besugared his lips, he seemed to be a very sweet-mouthed, peaceable prince, designing nothing for humour’s sake, nor to be revenged on Mansoul for injuries by them done to him; but the welfare, and good, and advantage of the town and people therein was now, as he said, his only design. Wherefore, after he had called for audience, and desired that the townsfolk would give it to him, he proceeded in his oration, and said:—
‘Oh, the desire of my heart, the famous town of Mansoul! how many nights have I watched, and how many weary steps have I taken, if perhaps I might do thee good! Far be it, far be it from me to desire to make a war upon you; if ye will but willingly and quietly deliver up yourselves unto me. You know that you were mine of old. Remember also, that so long as you enjoyed me for your lord, and that I enjoyed you for my subjects, you wanted for nothing of all the delights of the earth, that I, your lord and prince, could get for you, or that I could invent to make you bonny and blithe withal. Consider, you never had so many hard, dark, troublesome, and heart-afflicting hours, while you were mine, as you have had since you revolted from me; nor shall you ever have peace again, until you and I become one as before. But, be but prevailed with to embrace me again, and I will grant, yea, enlarge your old charter with abundance of privileges; so that your license and liberty shall be to take, hold, enjoy, and make your own all that is pleasant from the east to the west. Nor shall any of those incivilities, wherewith you have offended me, be ever charged upon you by me, so long as the sun and moon endure. Nor shall any of those dear friends of mine that now, for the fear of you, lie lurking in dens, and holes, and caves in Mansoul, be hurtful to you any more; yea, they shall be your servants, and shall minister unto you of their substance, and of whatever shall come to hand. I need speak no more; you know them, and have sometime since been much delighted in their company. Why, then, should we abide at such odds? Let us renew our old acquaintance and friendship again.
‘Bear with your friend; I take the liberty at this time to speak thus freely unto you. The love that I have to you presses me to do it, as also does the zeal of my heart for my friends with you: put me not therefore to further trouble, nor yourselves to further fears and frights. Have you I will, in a way of peace or war; nor do you flatter yourselves with the power and force of your captains, or that your Emmanuel will shortly come in to your help; for such strength will do you no pleasure.