Scene 3
Dethe.
Dethe.
Almyghty God, I am here at your wyll,
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Your commaundement to fulfyll.
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God.
Go thou to Eueryman
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And shewe hym, in my name,
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A pylgrymage he must on hym take,
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Whiche he in no wyse may escape;
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And that he brynge with hym a sure rekenynge
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Without delay or ony taryenge.
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Dethe.
Lorde, I wyll in the worlde go renne ouer-all
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And cruelly out-serche both grete and small.
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Euery man wyll I beset that lyueth beestly
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Out of Goddes lawes, and dredeth not foly.
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He that loueth rychess I wyll stryke with my darte,
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His syght to blynde, and fro heuen to departe—
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Excepte that almes be his good frende—
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In hell for to dwell, worlde without ende.
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Loo, yonder I se Eueryman walkynge.
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Full lytell he thynketh on my comynge;
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His mynde is on flesshely lustes and his treasure,
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And grete payne it shall cause hym to endure
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Before the Lorde, Heuen Kynge.
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Eueryman, stande styll! Whyder arte thou goynge
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Thus gayly? / Hast thou thy Maker forgete?
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