Everyman :
A. C. Cawley

Scene 8

Goodes.
Who calleth me? Eueryman? / What, hast thou haste?
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I lye here in corners, trussed and pyled so hye,
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And in chestes I am locked so fast,
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Also sacked in bagges. Thou mayst se with thyn eye
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I can not styre; in packes, lowe I lye.
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What wolde ye haue? Lyghtly me saye.
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Eueryman.
Come hyder, Good, in al the hast thou may,
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For of counseyll I must desyre the.
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Goodes.
Syre, & ye in the worlde haue sorowe or aduersyte,
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That can I helpe you to remedy shortly.
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Eueryman.
It is another dysease that greueth me;
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In this worlde it is not, I tell the so.
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I am sent for, an other way to go,
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To gyue a strayte counte generall
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Before the hyest Iupyter of all.
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And all my lyfe I haue had ioye & pleasure in the,
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Therfore, I pray the, go with me;
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For parauenture, thou mayst before God Almyghty
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My rekenynge helpe to clene and puryfye, [signature B.iiii]
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For it is sayd euer amonge
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That 'money maketh all ryght that is wronge.'
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Goodes.
Nay, Eueryman, I synge an other songe.
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I folowe no man in suche vyages;
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For, and I wente with the,
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Thou sholdest fare moche the worse for me.
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For bycause on me thou dyd set thy mynde,
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Thy rekenynge I haue made blotted and blynde,
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That thyne accounte thou can not make truly —
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And that hast thou for the loue of me!
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Eueryman.
That wolde greue me full sore,
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Whan I sholde come to that ferefull answere.
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Vp, let vs go thyder to-gyder.
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Goodes.
Nay, not so! I am to brytell, I may not endure.
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I wyll folowe no man one fote, be ye sure.
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Eueryman.
Alas, I haue the loued, and had grete pleasure
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All my lyfe-dayes on good and treasure.
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Goodes.
That is to thy dampnacyon, without lesynge,
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For my loue is contrary to the loue euerlastynge.
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But yf thou had me loued moderately durynge,
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As to the poore gyue parte of me,
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Than sholdest thou not in this dolour be,
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Nor in this grete sorowe and care.
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Eueryman.
Lo, now was I deceyued or I was ware;
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And all I may wyte my spendynge of tyme.
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Goodes.
What, wenest thou that I am thyne?
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Eueryman.
I had went so.
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Goodes.
Naye, Eueryman, I saye no.
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As for a whyle I was lente the;
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A season thou hast had me in prosperyte.
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My condycyon is mannes soule to kyll;
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If I saue one, a thousande I do spyll.
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Wenest thou that I wyll folowe the?
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Nay, fro this worlde not, veryle.
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Eueryman.
I had wende otherwyse.
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Goodes.
Therfore to thy soule Good is a thefe;
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For whan thou arte deed, this is my gyse —
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Another to deceyue in this same wyse
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As I haue done the, and all to his soules reprefe.
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Eueryman.
O false Good, cursed thou be,
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Thou traytour to God, that hast deceyued me
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And caught me in thy snare!
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Goodes.
Mary, thou brought thy selfe in care,
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Wherof I am gladde.
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I must nedes laugh; I can not be sadde.
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Eueryman.
A, Good, thou hast had longe my hertely loue;
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I gaue the that whiche sholde be the Lordes aboue.
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But wylte thou not go with me in dede?
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I praye the trouth to saye.
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Goodes.
No, so God me spede!
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Therfore fare well, and haue good daye.
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