Fifteenth Century Prose and Verse
“ Death. Thee availeth not to cry, weep, and pray, But haste thee lightly that thou were gone the journey, And prove thy friendes if thou can; For wot you well the tide abideth no man, And in the world each living creature, For Adam's sin, must die of Nature. Everyman. Death, if I should this pilgrimage take, And my reckoning surely make, Show me, for saint charity, Should I not come again shortly? Death. No, Everyman; and thou be once there, Thou must never more come here, Trust me, verily! Everyman. ”
