BEAUTY.
Yea, there shall ye consume more and less.
EVERYMAN.
And what, should I smother here?
Yea, by my faith, and never more appear;
In this world live no more we shall,
But in heaven before the highest Lord of all.
BEAUTY.
I cross out all this: adieu, by Saint John;
I take my cap in my lap, and am gone.
EVERYMAN.
What, Beauty? whither will ye?
BEAUTY.
Peace! I am deaf, I look not behind me,
Not, and thou wouldst give me—all the gold in thy chest.