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Dive into Theatrical Divinity: From Ancient Altars to Contemporary Stages!"
Embark on a profound journey that intertwines faith with theatrical brilliance. This extensive anthology curates some of the most cherished religious and mystery plays from yesteryears, bringing forth spiritual narratives that have enchanted audiences for generations.
To ensure these tales resonate with today's reader, each play is presented in two avatars: its pristine, original translation and a refreshed, modern rendition. No more grappling with archaic phrases; experience these divine tales in a language that speaks to you.
The anthology includes:
Everyman, The Chester Pageant of the Water-Leaders and Drawers of the Dee Concerning Noah’s Deluge, The Chester Pageant of the Barbers and Wax-Chandlers Representing Abraham, Melchisedec, and Isaac, The Second Shepherds’ Play, The Coventry Nativity Play of the Company of Shearmen and Tailors, The Miracle-Play of the Crucifixion, The Cornish Mystery-Play of the Three Maries, The Cornish Mystery-Play of Mary Magdalene and How She Brought the News of the Resurrection of Our Lord Jesus Christ to the Apostles, The Pageant of the Harrowing of Hell or Extraction of Souls From Hell, The Interlude of “God’s Promises”
Whether you're spiritually inclined, a theater aficionado, or simply a lover of timeless tales, this collection promises a soul-stirring experience. Enjoy the classics, now more accessible and relevant than ever!
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Excerpt
HERE BEGINS A TREATISE, IN THE FORM OF A MORAL PLAY, ABOUT HOW THE HIGH FATHER OF HEAVEN SENDS DEATH TO SUMMON EVERY CREATURE TO COME AND GIVE AN ACCOUNT OF THEIR LIVES IN THIS WORLD.
Messenger.
I ask you all to pay attention and listen reverently to this moral play, called “The Summoning of Everyman”. It shows our lives, our deaths, and how transitory we all are. This is a precious truth, but our intention is more gracious and lastingly sweet. The story says: Man, in the early stages of your life, look well and remember the ending that is coming, however happy and carefree you are! In the beginning you find sin very sweet, but in the end, when your body dies, that sin will cause your soul to weep. Here you will see how Fellowship, Jollity, Strength, Pleasure and Beauty will fade from you as the flowers fade in May. For you shall hear how our heavenly King calls Everyman to a general judgment. Pay attention and hear what he says.
God.
Here in my majesty I perceive that all people are unkind to me and live fearlessly in worldly prosperity. They are so lacking in spiritual vision, so drowned in sin, that they do not know me for their God. They think only of worldly riches. They do not fear my righteous wisdom or the sharp rod of my correction. They forget how I showed my law by dying for them and shedding my blood when (as no one can deny) I was hung between two thieves. I suffered death so that they might live. I healed their feet and they hurt my head with thorns. Truly I could do no more for them than I have done, but now I see that people completely forsake me. They commit the seven deadly and damnable sins, for pride, greed, wrath and lechery are now praised in the world. So they leave the heavenly company of the angels. Everyman lives only for his own pleasure, though they can by no means be sure of their lives. I see that, the more patient I am with them, the worse they grow from year to year. Every living being quickly becomes worse. Therefore I will swiftly demand a personal reckoning from Everyman. For if I leave the people alone like this in their life and the storms of their wickedness, truly they will become much worse than beasts. One would eat another up out of envy, and all of them forsake charity (kindness, brotherly love). I had hoped that Everyman would make his mansion in my glory, and I had chosen them all for that purpose; but now I see that, like traitors, they do not thank me for the good I intended for them or for their being which I have lent to them. I offered the people great mercy, but few of them ask for it from their hearts. They are so burdened with worldly riches that I must do justice on them, on Everyman who lives without fear. Where are you, Death, you mighty messenger?
Death.
Almighty God, I am here at Your will to fulfill Your commandment.
God.
Go to Everyman and show him in my name that he must undertake a pilgrimage which he cannot escape in any way, and that he must bring a true account with him without delay.
Death.
Lord, I will go run through all the world and cruelly seek out both great and small. I will beset every man who lives like a beast, disobeying God’s laws and not dreading folly. I will strike the man who loves riches with my dart so that his sight may be blinded and he may depart from heaven. Unless his alms (charitable giving, deeds of mercy) are his good friend he will dwell in hell forever, world without end.
Look, there I see Everyman walking. He doesn’t think of my coming; his mind is on bodily lusts and on his treasure. That will cause him to endure great pain before the Lord, the King of Heaven.
Everyman, stand still; where are you going so merrily? Have you forgotten your Maker?
Everyman.
Why do you ask? What do you want to know?
Death.
Yes, sir, I will show you: God from his majesty has sent me to you in great haste.
Everyman.
What? You are sent to me?
Death.
Yes, certainly. Though you have forgotten God here, he thinks of you in the heavenly sphere, as you will know before we depart.
Everyman.
What does God want from me?
Death.
I will show you: He requires a reckoning from you with no longer respite.
Everyman.
I want more time to give a reckoning; this unforeseen matter troubles my mind.
Death.
You must undertake a long journey, so bring your account-book with you, for you cannot turn back in any way. Take care, be sure of your reckoning, for you shall answer before God and show your many bad deeds and your few good deeds; you shall describe how you have spent your life before the greatest lord of Paradise. Get ready to set out on the journey, for—know this well—you shall have no advocate or mediator.
Everyman.
I am quite unready to give such a reckoning. I don’t know you; what messenger are you?
Death.
I am Death, whom no man dreads. I arrest every man and spare none, for it is God’s commandment that all should be obedient to me.
Everyman.
O Death, you come when I least expected you; it is in your power to save me. But I will give you some of my goods if you will be kind—yes, you will have a thousand pounds if you defer this matter for another day.
Death.
Everyman, that is completely impossible. I place no value on gold, silver or riches, nor on pope, emperor, king, duke, or princes. For if I was willing to receive great gifts I could have all the world; but my practice is quite the opposite. I give you no respite; come on, don’t delay.
Everyman.
Alas, shall I have no more respite? I may say that Death gives no warning. It makes my heart sick to think of this. My book of reckoning is quite unready. If I could only live twelve more years I would manage my accounts so well that I would not have to fear my reckoning. So, Death, I pray you, for the sake of God’s mercy, spare me until I am in better condition.
Death.
It will do you no good to cry, weep and pray. Hurry quickly to begin your journey, and try your friends if you can. For, know this well, the tide waits for no man, and it is in the nature of the world that each living creature must die because of Adam’s sin.
Everyman.
Death, if I should take this pilgrimage and make my reckoning accurately, show me, for holy charity’s sake, wouldn’t I come back here soon?
Death.
No, Everyman; once you are there you may never come here again. Trust me truly.
Everyman.
O gracious God, on your high throne in heaven, have mercy on me in my greatest need. Shall I have no companion from my acquaintance to lead me on the way from this earth?
Death.
Yes, if anyone is hardy enough to go with you and keep you company. Make haste, go on your way to God’s magnificence to give your reckoning before his presence. What, do you think that your life and your worldly goods are given to you?
Everyman.
Truly I had thought so.
Death.
No, no, it was only loaned to you. For as soon as you go someone else will have it for a while, and then go from it even as you have done. Everyman, you are mad; you have your five wits, but you will not improve your life on this earth, though I come suddenly.
Everyman.
O wretched coward (speaking to himself, I think), where shall I flee to escape this endless sorrow! Now, gentle Death, spare me until tomorrow so that I may set my life right with good advice.
Death.
No, I will not agree to that. I will not give any man respite, but I will strike him suddenly to the heart without any warning. Now I will go from your sight; see that you get ready quickly, for you may say that this is the day from which no living man may escape.
Everyman.
Alas, I may well weep with deep sighs, for I have no company to help me and protect me on my journey; and also my account book is quite unready. How shall I excuse myself? I wish, God is my witness, that I had never been conceived! It would have been much better for my soul, for now I fear that huge and great pains await me. The time passes away; Lord, who made us all, help me, for though I mourn it does no good. The day passes and is almost gone; I hardly know what to do. To whom could I best make my complaint? What if I spoke of it to Fellowship, and told him what has happened to me so suddenly? For all my confidence is in him; we have been good friends in sport and play for such a long time in this world. Surely I see him over there; I trust that he will accompany me, so I will speak to him to ease my sorrow. Well met, good Fellowship, and good day!
Fellowship speaketh.
Everyman, good day to you! Sir, why do you look so distressed? If anything is wrong, please tell me so that I can help to remedy it.
Everyman.
Yes, good Fellowship, yes, I am in great danger.
Fellowship.
My true friend, tell me what’s on your mind. Until my life’s end I will never forsake you in the way of good company.
Everyman.
That was well spoken, and lovingly.
Fellowship.
Sir, I must know what burdens you; I grieve to see you in any distress. If anyone has wronged you, you will be revenged, even if I should be slain and laid on the ground for you—even if I knew that before your revenge was completed I should die.
Everyman.
Truly, Fellowship, I thank you.
Fellowship.
Tush! I don’t give a fig for thanks. Show me what grieves you, and say no more.
Everyman.
If I should tell you what is on my heart, and if you should then turn away from me and fail to comfort me, then I should be ten times sorrier than if I had never spoken.
Fellowship.
Sir, I will do what I have said.
Everyman.
Then you are a good friend in need; I have found you true here before.
Fellowship.
And so you always will. For, truly, if you go to Hell, I will not forsake you on the journey!
Everyman.
You speak like a good friend, and I wholly believe you. I will do my best to deserve your friendship.
Fellowship.
I will not speak of deserving. For anyone who promises what he doesn’t perform is not worthy to go in good company. Therefore show me the grief of your mind, as you would show it to your most kind and loving friend.
Everyman.
I shall show you how it is: I am commanded to go on a journey, on a long, hard and dangerous road, and give a thorough reckoning without delay before the high judge Adonai (God).
Fellowship.
That’s a lot to think about! A promise is an obligation, but if I should undertake such a journey I am well aware that it would lead me to pain, and also, surely, it makes me afraid. But let’s consider this as well as we can, for your words would frighten a strong man.
Everyman.
Why, you told me that, if I needed you, you would never forsake me, alive or dead, though we had to journey to hell.
Fellowship.
So I said, certainly. But, to speak to you honestly, let us put such pleasant things aside. If we took such a journey, when should we return?
Everyman.
Never until Judgment Day.
Fellowship.
Then I surely will not go there! Who has brought you this news?
Everyman.
Indeed, Death was with me here.
Fellowship.
Now, by God who has redeemed us all, if Death was the messenger, I will not go on that journey for any man that is living today—not for my father who begot me!
Everyman.
But you promised otherwise.
Fellowship.
I know very well that I say this truly: If you would eat and drink and enjoy yourself, or pay a visit to lusty women, I would not forsake you while the day was clear. Trust me truly!
Everyman.
Yes, you would be ready for that; your mind is more inclined to go to mirth, solace, and play than to keep me company on my long journey.
Fellowship.
Truly, now, I will not go that way. But if you wish to murder, or to kill any man, I will help you in that with a good will.
Everyman.
Oh, that is foolish advice indeed! Gentle fellow, help me in my necessity; we have loved each other for a long time, and now I need you. And now, gentle Fellowship, remember me.
Fellowship.
Whether or not you have loved me, I swear by Saint John that I will not go with you.
Everyman.
But I beg you, take the trouble to do this much for me: For holy charity’s sake, come with me and comfort me until I pass out of the town.
Fellowship.
No, even if you gave me a new gown for it I would not go a foot with you. But if you had stayed here I would not have left you like this. As it is, God speed you on your journey, for I will leave you as fast as I can.
Everyman.
Where are you going, Fellowship? Will you forsake me?
Fellowship.
Yes, by my faith, I leave you to God.
Everyman.
Farewell, good Fellowship; my heart is sore because of this parting. Goodbye forever. I will never see you again.
Fellowship.
In faith, Everyman, farewell now at the end; For you I will remember that parting is mourning.
Everyman.
Alas! Must we leave each other like this? Our Lady, help me, for I have no other comfort! See, Fellowship forsakes me in my greatest need; where shall I go for help in this world? Until now Fellowship has made merry with me, but now he grieves little for me. It is said that men may find friends in prosperity who turn out to be quite unkind in adversity. Now where shall I flee for help, since Fellowship has forsaken me? Truly, I will go to my kinsmen, begging them to help me in my need. I believe that they will do so, for nature (or ‘family’—‘kind’ had both meanings at this time) will crawl where it is not able to walk. I will go try it, for I see them going by over there. Where are you now, my friends and kinsmen?
Kindred.
Here we are now at your command, Cousin. Please show us whatever you intend and don’t hold back.
Cousin.
Yes, Everyman, and tell us if you want to go anywhere, for as you well know we live and die together.
Kindred.
We will stick to you in wealth or in woe, for a man can have confidence in his kin.
Everyman.
Thank you, my kind friends and kinsmen. Now I will show you the grief of my mind: I was commanded by a messenger, a high king’s chief officer, to go on a painful pilgrimage, and I know well that I will never return from it. Also I must give a rigorous accounting, for I have a great enemy who lies in wait for me, intending to hinder me.
Kindred.
What must you give an account of? I would like to know that.
Everyman.
I must show all my actions, how I have lived and spent my days; I must also give an account of all the wrong deeds that I have done in my time, since life was lent to me, and of all the virtues that I have refused. Therefore I implore you to go there with me, for holy charity’s sake, to help me give my account.
Cousin.
What, that’s what you’re talking about—you want me to go there? No, Everyman, I would rather fast on bread and water for five years or more.
Everyman.
Alas, that I was ever born! For if you forsake me now I will never be merry again.
Kindred.
What’s all this sir? You’re a merry man! Cheer up and don’t moan. But I warn you of one thing, by Saint Anne: For my part, you shall go alone.
Everyman.
My Cousin, won’t you go with me?
Cousin.
No, by our Lady; I have a cramp in my toe. Don’t trust me, for, God prosper me, I will deceive you in your greatest need.
Kindred.
It will do you no good to entice us to come with you. But I’m heartily willing to give you my maid. She loves to go to feasts, to flirt and dance and run around. I will give her permission to help you in that journey, if you and she can agree on it.
Everyman.
Now speak your mind truly. Will you go with me, or stay behind?
Kindred.
Stay behind? Yes, I can and will do that! Therefore farewell until another day.
Everyman.
How should I be merry or glad? For people make me fine promises, but they forsake me in my greatest need. I am deceived; that makes me sad.
Cousin.
Cousin Everyman, farewell now, for truly I will not go with you. I have to attend to my own unready account; therefore I must delay. Now God keep you, for now I go.
Everyman.
Oh Jesus, has it all come to this? See, fools are glad to speak false fair words; they promise, but surely they will do nothing. My kinsmen promised me faithfully that they would stand by me steadfastly, and now they flee away quickly. Fellowship made me just the same sort of promises. What, then, are the best friends with which I can provide myself? I am quickly losing the little time in which I may stay here. But something comes to my mind: All my life I have loved riches. If my goods might help me now, that would make my heart quite light. I will speak to him in this distress.—Where are you, my Goods and riches?
Goods.
Who calls me? Everyman? What a hurry you’re in! I lie here in corners, tied up and piled so high, and locked so tightly in chests, and stuffed so into bags, that, as you can see, I cannot move; I lie in low bundles. Tell me what you want.
Everyman.
Come here, Goods, as quickly as you can, for I need and want your advice.
Goods.
Sir, if you have trouble or adversity in the world, I can quickly help you to remedy that.
Everyman.
It is another disease that grieves me; I tell you, it is not in this world. I am ordered to go another way, to give a rigorous and full account before the highest Jupiter (the greatest God) of all. All my life I have had joy and pleasure in you. Therefore I beg you to go with me. For maybe you can help me to clean and purify my reckoning before God Almighty; for it is always said, that money makes everything that is wrong, right.
Messenger.
I ask you all to pay attention and listen reverently to this moral play, called “The Summoning of Everyman”. It shows our lives, our deaths, and how transitory we all are. This is a precious truth, but our intention is more gracious and lastingly sweet. The story says: Man, in the early stages of your life, look well and remember the ending that is coming, however happy and carefree you are! In the beginning you find sin very sweet, but in the end, when your body dies, that sin will cause your soul to weep. Here you will see how Fellowship, Jollity, Strength, Pleasure and Beauty will fade from you as the flowers fade in May. For you shall hear how our heavenly King calls Everyman to a general judgment. Pay attention and hear what he says.
God.
Here in my majesty I perceive that all people are unkind to me and live fearlessly in worldly prosperity. They are so lacking in spiritual vision, so drowned in sin, that they do not know me for their God. They think only of worldly riches. They do not fear my righteous wisdom or the sharp rod of my correction. They forget how I showed my law by dying for them and shedding my blood when (as no one can deny) I was hung between two thieves. I suffered death so that they might live. I healed their feet and they hurt my head with thorns. Truly I could do no more for them than I have done, but now I see that people completely forsake me. They commit the seven deadly and damnable sins, for pride, greed, wrath and lechery are now praised in the world. So they leave the heavenly company of the angels. Everyman lives only for his own pleasure, though they can by no means be sure of their lives. I see that, the more patient I am with them, the worse they grow from year to year. Every living being quickly becomes worse. Therefore I will swiftly demand a personal reckoning from Everyman. For if I leave the people alone like this in their life and the storms of their wickedness, truly they will become much worse than beasts. One would eat another up out of envy, and all of them forsake charity (kindness, brotherly love). I had hoped that Everyman would make his mansion in my glory, and I had chosen them all for that purpose; but now I see that, like traitors, they do not thank me for the good I intended for them or for their being which I have lent to them. I offered the people great mercy, but few of them ask for it from their hearts. They are so burdened with worldly riches that I must do justice on them, on Everyman who lives without fear. Where are you, Death, you mighty messenger?
Death.
Almighty God, I am here at Your will to fulfill Your commandment.
God.
Go to Everyman and show him in my name that he must undertake a pilgrimage which he cannot escape in any way, and that he must bring a true account with him without delay.
Death.
Lord, I will go run through all the world and cruelly seek out both great and small. I will beset every man who lives like a beast, disobeying God’s laws and not dreading folly. I will strike the man who loves riches with my dart so that his sight may be blinded and he may depart from heaven. Unless his alms (charitable giving, deeds of mercy) are his good friend he will dwell in hell forever, world without end.
Look, there I see Everyman walking. He doesn’t think of my coming; his mind is on bodily lusts and on his treasure. That will cause him to endure great pain before the Lord, the King of Heaven.
Everyman, stand still; where are you going so merrily? Have you forgotten your Maker?
Everyman.
Why do you ask? What do you want to know?
Death.
Yes, sir, I will show you: God from his majesty has sent me to you in great haste.
Everyman.
What? You are sent to me?
Death.
Yes, certainly. Though you have forgotten God here, he thinks of you in the heavenly sphere, as you will know before we depart.
Everyman.
What does God want from me?
Death.
I will show you: He requires a reckoning from you with no longer respite.
Everyman.
I want more time to give a reckoning; this unforeseen matter troubles my mind.
Death.
You must undertake a long journey, so bring your account-book with you, for you cannot turn back in any way. Take care, be sure of your reckoning, for you shall answer before God and show your many bad deeds and your few good deeds; you shall describe how you have spent your life before the greatest lord of Paradise. Get ready to set out on the journey, for—know this well—you shall have no advocate or mediator.
Everyman.
I am quite unready to give such a reckoning. I don’t know you; what messenger are you?
Death.
I am Death, whom no man dreads. I arrest every man and spare none, for it is God’s commandment that all should be obedient to me.
Everyman.
O Death, you come when I least expected you; it is in your power to save me. But I will give you some of my goods if you will be kind—yes, you will have a thousand pounds if you defer this matter for another day.
Death.
Everyman, that is completely impossible. I place no value on gold, silver or riches, nor on pope, emperor, king, duke, or princes. For if I was willing to receive great gifts I could have all the world; but my practice is quite the opposite. I give you no respite; come on, don’t delay.
Everyman.
Alas, shall I have no more respite? I may say that Death gives no warning. It makes my heart sick to think of this. My book of reckoning is quite unready. If I could only live twelve more years I would manage my accounts so well that I would not have to fear my reckoning. So, Death, I pray you, for the sake of God’s mercy, spare me until I am in better condition.
Death.
It will do you no good to cry, weep and pray. Hurry quickly to begin your journey, and try your friends if you can. For, know this well, the tide waits for no man, and it is in the nature of the world that each living creature must die because of Adam’s sin.
Everyman.
Death, if I should take this pilgrimage and make my reckoning accurately, show me, for holy charity’s sake, wouldn’t I come back here soon?
Death.
No, Everyman; once you are there you may never come here again. Trust me truly.
Everyman.
O gracious God, on your high throne in heaven, have mercy on me in my greatest need. Shall I have no companion from my acquaintance to lead me on the way from this earth?
Death.
Yes, if anyone is hardy enough to go with you and keep you company. Make haste, go on your way to God’s magnificence to give your reckoning before his presence. What, do you think that your life and your worldly goods are given to you?
Everyman.
Truly I had thought so.
Death.
No, no, it was only loaned to you. For as soon as you go someone else will have it for a while, and then go from it even as you have done. Everyman, you are mad; you have your five wits, but you will not improve your life on this earth, though I come suddenly.
Everyman.
O wretched coward (speaking to himself, I think), where shall I flee to escape this endless sorrow! Now, gentle Death, spare me until tomorrow so that I may set my life right with good advice.
Death.
No, I will not agree to that. I will not give any man respite, but I will strike him suddenly to the heart without any warning. Now I will go from your sight; see that you get ready quickly, for you may say that this is the day from which no living man may escape.
Everyman.
Alas, I may well weep with deep sighs, for I have no company to help me and protect me on my journey; and also my account book is quite unready. How shall I excuse myself? I wish, God is my witness, that I had never been conceived! It would have been much better for my soul, for now I fear that huge and great pains await me. The time passes away; Lord, who made us all, help me, for though I mourn it does no good. The day passes and is almost gone; I hardly know what to do. To whom could I best make my complaint? What if I spoke of it to Fellowship, and told him what has happened to me so suddenly? For all my confidence is in him; we have been good friends in sport and play for such a long time in this world. Surely I see him over there; I trust that he will accompany me, so I will speak to him to ease my sorrow. Well met, good Fellowship, and good day!
Fellowship speaketh.
Everyman, good day to you! Sir, why do you look so distressed? If anything is wrong, please tell me so that I can help to remedy it.
Everyman.
Yes, good Fellowship, yes, I am in great danger.
Fellowship.
My true friend, tell me what’s on your mind. Until my life’s end I will never forsake you in the way of good company.
Everyman.
That was well spoken, and lovingly.
Fellowship.
Sir, I must know what burdens you; I grieve to see you in any distress. If anyone has wronged you, you will be revenged, even if I should be slain and laid on the ground for you—even if I knew that before your revenge was completed I should die.
Everyman.
Truly, Fellowship, I thank you.
Fellowship.
Tush! I don’t give a fig for thanks. Show me what grieves you, and say no more.
Everyman.
If I should tell you what is on my heart, and if you should then turn away from me and fail to comfort me, then I should be ten times sorrier than if I had never spoken.
Fellowship.
Sir, I will do what I have said.
Everyman.
Then you are a good friend in need; I have found you true here before.
Fellowship.
And so you always will. For, truly, if you go to Hell, I will not forsake you on the journey!
Everyman.
You speak like a good friend, and I wholly believe you. I will do my best to deserve your friendship.
Fellowship.
I will not speak of deserving. For anyone who promises what he doesn’t perform is not worthy to go in good company. Therefore show me the grief of your mind, as you would show it to your most kind and loving friend.
Everyman.
I shall show you how it is: I am commanded to go on a journey, on a long, hard and dangerous road, and give a thorough reckoning without delay before the high judge Adonai (God).
Fellowship.
That’s a lot to think about! A promise is an obligation, but if I should undertake such a journey I am well aware that it would lead me to pain, and also, surely, it makes me afraid. But let’s consider this as well as we can, for your words would frighten a strong man.
Everyman.
Why, you told me that, if I needed you, you would never forsake me, alive or dead, though we had to journey to hell.
Fellowship.
So I said, certainly. But, to speak to you honestly, let us put such pleasant things aside. If we took such a journey, when should we return?
Everyman.
Never until Judgment Day.
Fellowship.
Then I surely will not go there! Who has brought you this news?
Everyman.
Indeed, Death was with me here.
Fellowship.
Now, by God who has redeemed us all, if Death was the messenger, I will not go on that journey for any man that is living today—not for my father who begot me!
Everyman.
But you promised otherwise.
Fellowship.
I know very well that I say this truly: If you would eat and drink and enjoy yourself, or pay a visit to lusty women, I would not forsake you while the day was clear. Trust me truly!
Everyman.
Yes, you would be ready for that; your mind is more inclined to go to mirth, solace, and play than to keep me company on my long journey.
Fellowship.
Truly, now, I will not go that way. But if you wish to murder, or to kill any man, I will help you in that with a good will.
Everyman.
Oh, that is foolish advice indeed! Gentle fellow, help me in my necessity; we have loved each other for a long time, and now I need you. And now, gentle Fellowship, remember me.
Fellowship.
Whether or not you have loved me, I swear by Saint John that I will not go with you.
Everyman.
But I beg you, take the trouble to do this much for me: For holy charity’s sake, come with me and comfort me until I pass out of the town.
Fellowship.
No, even if you gave me a new gown for it I would not go a foot with you. But if you had stayed here I would not have left you like this. As it is, God speed you on your journey, for I will leave you as fast as I can.
Everyman.
Where are you going, Fellowship? Will you forsake me?
Fellowship.
Yes, by my faith, I leave you to God.
Everyman.
Farewell, good Fellowship; my heart is sore because of this parting. Goodbye forever. I will never see you again.
Fellowship.
In faith, Everyman, farewell now at the end; For you I will remember that parting is mourning.
Everyman.
Alas! Must we leave each other like this? Our Lady, help me, for I have no other comfort! See, Fellowship forsakes me in my greatest need; where shall I go for help in this world? Until now Fellowship has made merry with me, but now he grieves little for me. It is said that men may find friends in prosperity who turn out to be quite unkind in adversity. Now where shall I flee for help, since Fellowship has forsaken me? Truly, I will go to my kinsmen, begging them to help me in my need. I believe that they will do so, for nature (or ‘family’—‘kind’ had both meanings at this time) will crawl where it is not able to walk. I will go try it, for I see them going by over there. Where are you now, my friends and kinsmen?
Kindred.
Here we are now at your command, Cousin. Please show us whatever you intend and don’t hold back.
Cousin.
Yes, Everyman, and tell us if you want to go anywhere, for as you well know we live and die together.
Kindred.
We will stick to you in wealth or in woe, for a man can have confidence in his kin.
Everyman.
Thank you, my kind friends and kinsmen. Now I will show you the grief of my mind: I was commanded by a messenger, a high king’s chief officer, to go on a painful pilgrimage, and I know well that I will never return from it. Also I must give a rigorous accounting, for I have a great enemy who lies in wait for me, intending to hinder me.
Kindred.
What must you give an account of? I would like to know that.
Everyman.
I must show all my actions, how I have lived and spent my days; I must also give an account of all the wrong deeds that I have done in my time, since life was lent to me, and of all the virtues that I have refused. Therefore I implore you to go there with me, for holy charity’s sake, to help me give my account.
Cousin.
What, that’s what you’re talking about—you want me to go there? No, Everyman, I would rather fast on bread and water for five years or more.
Everyman.
Alas, that I was ever born! For if you forsake me now I will never be merry again.
Kindred.
What’s all this sir? You’re a merry man! Cheer up and don’t moan. But I warn you of one thing, by Saint Anne: For my part, you shall go alone.
Everyman.
My Cousin, won’t you go with me?
Cousin.
No, by our Lady; I have a cramp in my toe. Don’t trust me, for, God prosper me, I will deceive you in your greatest need.
Kindred.
It will do you no good to entice us to come with you. But I’m heartily willing to give you my maid. She loves to go to feasts, to flirt and dance and run around. I will give her permission to help you in that journey, if you and she can agree on it.
Everyman.
Now speak your mind truly. Will you go with me, or stay behind?
Kindred.
Stay behind? Yes, I can and will do that! Therefore farewell until another day.
Everyman.
How should I be merry or glad? For people make me fine promises, but they forsake me in my greatest need. I am deceived; that makes me sad.
Cousin.
Cousin Everyman, farewell now, for truly I will not go with you. I have to attend to my own unready account; therefore I must delay. Now God keep you, for now I go.
Everyman.
Oh Jesus, has it all come to this? See, fools are glad to speak false fair words; they promise, but surely they will do nothing. My kinsmen promised me faithfully that they would stand by me steadfastly, and now they flee away quickly. Fellowship made me just the same sort of promises. What, then, are the best friends with which I can provide myself? I am quickly losing the little time in which I may stay here. But something comes to my mind: All my life I have loved riches. If my goods might help me now, that would make my heart quite light. I will speak to him in this distress.—Where are you, my Goods and riches?
Goods.
Who calls me? Everyman? What a hurry you’re in! I lie here in corners, tied up and piled so high, and locked so tightly in chests, and stuffed so into bags, that, as you can see, I cannot move; I lie in low bundles. Tell me what you want.
Everyman.
Come here, Goods, as quickly as you can, for I need and want your advice.
Goods.
Sir, if you have trouble or adversity in the world, I can quickly help you to remedy that.
Everyman.
It is another disease that grieves me; I tell you, it is not in this world. I am ordered to go another way, to give a rigorous and full account before the highest Jupiter (the greatest God) of all. All my life I have had joy and pleasure in you. Therefore I beg you to go with me. For maybe you can help me to clean and purify my reckoning before God Almighty; for it is always said, that money makes everything that is wrong, right.
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