I hoped well that every man

In my glory shulde make his mansyon,
And thereto I had them all electe;
But now I se, like traytours dejecte,

They thanke me not for the pleasure that I to them ment,

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Nor yet for theyr beynge that I them have lent.
I profered the people grete multytude of mercy,
And fewe there be that asketh it hertly13;
They be so combred with worldly ryches
That nedes on them I must do justyce,
On every man lyvynge without fere.-
Where arte thou, Deth, thou myghty messen-
gere?

DETHE.

wyll,

DETHE. That shall I shewe thee:
A rekenynge he wyll nedes have,
Without ony lenger respyte.

EVERYMAN. To gyve a rekenynge longer lay. seris I crave;

This blynde mater troubleth my wytte.

DETHE. On the thou must take a longe journey,

Therfore thy boke of counte with the thou
brynge,

For turne agayne thou can not by no waye;
And loke thou be sure of thy rekenynge,

For before God thou shalte answere and shewe
Thy many badde dedes and good but a fewe,

Almyghty God, I am here at your How thou hast spente thy lyfe, and in what

Your commaundement to fulfyll.

GOD. Go thou to Everyman,

And shewe hym in my name

A pylgrymage he must on hym 'take,
Which he in no wyse may escape,

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And that he brynge with hym a sure rekenynge,
Without delay or ony taryenge.

DETHE. Lorde, I wyll in the worlde go
renne14 over all,

And cruelly out serche bothe grete and small.
Every man wyll I beset that lyveth beestly
Out of Goddes lawes and dredeth not foly.
He that loveth rychesse I wyll stryke with my
darte,

His syght to blynde, and fro heven to departe15,
Excepte that almes be his good frende,
In hell for to dwell, worlde without ende.
Loo, yonder I se Everyman walkynge,
Full lytell he thynketh on my comynge!

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His mynde is on flesshely lustes, and his treas-
ure;

And grete payne it shall cause hym to endure
Before the Lorde, heven kynge.-

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In thy power it lyeth me to save;
Yet of my good wyl I gyve the, if thou wyl
be kynde.

Ye, a thousande pounde shalte thou have,
And dyfferre22 this mater tyll an other daye.

DETHE. Everyman, it may not be by no waye.
I set not by23 golde, sylver, nor rychesse,
Ne by pope, emperour, kynge, duke ne prynces;
For, and I wolde receyve gyftes grete,
All the worlde I myght gete;
But my custome is clene contrary.

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I gyve the no respyte, come hens and not tary.
EVERYMAN. Alas! shall I have no lenger
respyte

I may saye Deth geveth no warnynge!
To thynke on the it maketh my herte seke;
For all unredy is my boke of rekenynge.
But, xii yere and I myght have abydynge,
My countynge boke I wolde make so clere,
That my rekenynge I sholde not nede to fere.
Wherfore, Deth, I praye the, for Goddes mercy,
Spare me tyll I be provyded of remedy.
DETHE. The avayleth not to crye, wepe and
praye.

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