One Jerman, who a widower was,

Her husband needs must be, Because he was of greater wealth, And better in degree.

Her vows and promife lately made
To Bateman fhe denied ;
And in defpite of him and his

She utterly defied.

Well then, quoth he, if it be fo,

That you will me forfake,

And, like a falfe and forfworn wretch,

Another husband take,

Thou shalt not live one quiet hour,

For furely I will have

Thee, either now alive, or dead,
When I am laid in grave:

Thy faithlefs mind thou fhalt repent;
Therefor be well affur'd,

When, for thy fake, thou hear'st report

What torments I endur'd.

But mark how Bateman died for love,

And finish'd up his life,

That very day she married was,
And made old Jermans wife;

For with a strangling-cord, God wot,
Great moan was made therefor,
He hang'd himself, in defperate fort,

Before the brides own door.

Whereat

Whereat fuch forrow pierc'd her heart,

And troubled fore her mind,

That fhe could never, after that,
One day of comfort find;
And wherefoever she did go,
Her fancy did furmife,

Young Batemans pale and ghaftly ghoft
Appear'd before her eyes.

When she in bed at night did lie,
Betwixt her husbands arms,
In hope thereby to fleep and reft
In fafety without harms;

Great cries, and grievous groans fhe heard,
A voice that fometimes faid,

O thou art fhe that I must have,
And will not be denied.

But the being big with child,
Was, for the infants fake,
Preferved from the fpirits power,
No vengeance could it take:
The babe unborn did fafely keep,
As God appointed so,

His mothers body from the fiend,
That fought her overthrow.

But being of her burden eas'd,
And fafely brought to bed,
Her care and grief began anew,

And farther forrow bred:

03

And

And of her friends he did intreat,

Defiring them to ftay;

Out of the bed, quoth fhe, this night,
I fhall be born away.

Here comes the fpirit of my love,
With pale and ghaftly face,
Who till he bear me hence away,
Will not depart this place;
Alive or dead I am his by right,
And he will furely have,

In fpite of me, and all the world,
What I by promife gave.

O watch with me this night, I pray;
And fee you do not fleep;
No longer than you be awake
My body can you keep.
All promifed to do their best;
Yet nothing could fuffice
In middle of the night to keep
Sad flumber from their eyes.

So being all full fast asleep,
To them unknown which way,
The child-bed-woman, that woeful night,
From thence was born away;

And to what place no creature knew,

Nor to this day can tell;

As ftrange a thing as ever yet
In any age befell.

You

You maidens that defire to love,
And would good husbands choose,
To him that you do vow to love,
By no means do refuse:

For God, that hears all fecret oaths,
Will dreadful vengeance take

On fuch that of a wilful vow
Do flender reckoning make.

BALLAD IV.

THE WANDERING PRINCE OF TROY.

HEN Troy town, for ten years wars,
Withstood the Greeks in manful wife,

WHEN

Then did their foes encrease so fast,

That to refift none could fuffice:
Waste lie those walls that were fo good,
And corn now grows where Troy town stood.

Eneas, wandering prince of Troy,

When he for land long time had fought, At length, arrived with great joy,

To mighty Carthage walls was brought; Where Dido queen, with fumptuous feast, Did entertain this wandering gueft.

And, as in hall at meat they fat,
The queen, defirous news to hear,
"Of thy unhappy ten years wars,
Declare to me thou Trojan dear :
The heavy hap, and chance fo bad,
Which thou, poor wandering prince, haft had."

And then, anon, this comely knight,

With words demure, as he could well,

Of his unhappy ten years wars

So true a tale began to tell,

With words fo fweet, and fighs fo deep,
That oft he made them all to weep.

And then a thousand fighs he fetch'd,
And every figh brought tears amain;
That where he fate the place was wet,

As he had feen thofe wars again;

So that the queen, with ruth therefor,
Said, worthy prince, enough, no more.

The darksome night apace grew on,
And twinkling stars in fkies were spread;
And he his doleful tale had told,

And every one was laid in bed;
Where they full fweetly took their rest,

Save only Didos boiling breast.