Lady, help! this manner of living is a detestable pleasure; _Vanitas vanitatum_: all is but a vanity! Mercy shall never be convict of his uncurtess condition; With weeping tears, by night and by day, I will go and never cease. Shall I not find him? Yes, I hope; now, God be my protection! My predelict son! where be ye? Mankind! _Ubi es?_ [MISCHIEF _re-enters with his companions_. _Mis._ My prepotent father! when ye sup, sup out your mess! Ye are all to-gloried in your terms; ye make many a lesse. Will ye hear? he cryeth over Mankind, _Ubi es?_ _New G._ Hic, hic, hic! hic, hic, hic! hic, hic! * * * * * That is to say: here! here! here! nigh dead in the crick. If ye will have him, go and seek, seek, seek! Seek not over long, for losing of your mind! _Now._ If ye will have Mankind--ho, _domine, domine, domine_!-- Ye must speak to the shrive for a _cepe coppus_; Else ye must be fain to return with _non est inventus_. How say ye, sir? my bolt is shot! _Nought._ I am doing of my needings; beware how ye shoot! Fie, fie, fie! I have foul arrayed my foot! Be wise for shooting with your tackles, for, God wot! My foot is foully over-shit. _Mis._ A parlement! a parlement! come forth, Nought, behind! A counsel, belive! I am afeared Mercy will him find. How say ye? and what say ye? how shall we do with Mankind? _New G._ Tush, a fly's wing! will ye do well? He weeneth Mercy were hung for stealing of a mare. Mischief! go say to him that Mercy seeketh everywhere; He will hang himself, I undertake, for fear. _Mis._ I assent thereto; it is wittily said, and well. _Now._ I whip it in thy coat! anon it were done! Now, saint Gabriel's mother save the clothes of thy shoon! All the books in the world, if they had be undone, Could not a counselled us bet. _Hic exit_ MISCHIEF [_apparently meeting_ MANKIND _as he is going out, and salutes him_]. _Mis._ Ho, Mankind! Come and speak with Mercy; he is here, fast-by! _Man._ A rope! a rope! a rope! I am not worthy. _Mis._ Anon, anon, anon! I have it here ready; With a tree also that I have get. Hold the tree, Now-a-days! Nought! take heed and be wise! _New G._ Lo, Mankind! do as I do! this is thy new guise; Give the rope just to thy neck: this is mine advice. _Mis._ Help thyself, Nought! lo, Mercy is here! He scareth us with a bales; we may no longer tarry. _New G._ Queck, queck, queck! alas, my throat! I beshrew you, marry! A, Mercy! Christ's copped curse go with you, and saint Davy! Alas, my weasand! ye were somewhat too near! [_All but_ MERCY _and_ MANKIND _go out_. _Mer._ Arise, my precious redempt son! ye be to me full dear. He is so timorous; meseemeth his vital spirit doth expi[re].