All of a sudden, a darkness fell across the sun. What could it be? He roused himself, and there he saw, stalking towards him, the towering shape of a Foul Fiend. He was at least nine feet high, and the nearer he came, the more hideous he grew. He had scales like a fish, wings like a dragon, and feet like a bear. And out of his belly, came fire and smoke.

As happens in a dream, Christian recognized the Fiend at once, and knew his name. It was Apollyon. Terrified, he cast in his mind whether to go back, or to stay firm. Then, considering that he had no armour on his back, and to turn his back to the monster would give him the advantage, he resolved to stay firm.

The Fiend had now drawn very close. He looked upon Christian and began to question him.

A.: Where have you come from?

C.: I've come from the City of Destruction, which is the place of all evil.

A.: You must be one of my subjects then for I am the Prince of that city, and all that country is mine. Why then are you running away from your Prince?

C.: I was indeed born in your country, but now I serve another, who is the King of Princes.

A.: But you have already let him down. You fell into the Swamp of Sadness. You fell asleep and dropped your parchment. And all you say and do, is full of pride.

C.: What you say is true. But my new master is willing to forgive everything.

A.: I am the enemy of this King. I hate Him. I hate His laws. I hate everyone who belongs to Him. Give him the slip and work for me, and your wages shall be doubled.

C.: I know what your wages are, you destroyer. They are the wages of death.

A.: What you say is true. Therefore prepare to die.

Without more ado, the Fiend threw a flaming dart at Christian's chest. But Christian had his shield in his hand and so prevented him. Then Christian drew his sword, for he saw it was time to fight.

The combat lasted half the day. You couldn't imagine, if you had not been there, what yelling and roaring Apollyon made, and what sighs and groans burst from the Pilgrim's heart. Then Apollyon saw his chance, and came in close, and, wrestling with Christian, gave him such a dreadful fall, that his sword flew from his hand.

Now I am sure of you! the Fiend cried.

And kneeling on him, as he lay helplessly upon his back, he pressed him near to death. But as God would have it, while Apollyon was preparing his final blow, Christian stretched out his hand for his sword and caught it.

With that, he ran Apollyon through. And with a terrible roar, the Fiend drew back.

Then for the first time, Christian smiled. For, looking up, he saw Apollyon spread his dragon's wings, and fly away, dripping blood over the fields as he went.

So the battle was over, and Christian offered thanks to God for saving him.