Young BATEMANs Ghost:
Or, A godly Warning to all Maidens, by the example of Gods Judgment
shewn upon one Germans Wife of Clifton, in the Country of Nottingham;
who lying in Child-bed, was borne away and never heard of after.
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YOU dainty Dames so finely framd
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Of beautys chiefest mold,
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And you that trip it up and down,
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Like lambs of Cupids Fold:
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Here is a lesson to be learnd,
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A lesson in my mind,
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For such as will prove false in Love,
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And bear a faithless mind.
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Not far from Nottingham of late,
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In Clifton, as I hear,
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There dwelt a fair and comely Dame,
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None with her could compare:
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Her cheeks were like the crimson rose,
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Yet as you may perceive,
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The fairest Face, the falsest heart,
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The soonest will deceive.
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This gallant Dame she was belovd,
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By many in that place,
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And many sought in marriage bed
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Her body to embrace:
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At last a proper handsome youth,
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Young Bateman calld by name,
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In hopes she would become his wife,
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Unto this maiden came.
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Such love and likeing there was found,
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That he from all the rest,
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Had stolen away the maidens heart,
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And she did love him best:
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Then plighted promise secretly,
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Did pass between them two,
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That nothing could but death itself,
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This true Love-knot undo.
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He broke a piece of Gold in twain,
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One half to her he gave,
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The other as a pledge; quoth he,
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Dear love myself will have.
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If I do break my vow, quoth she,
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While I remain alive;
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May neer a thing I take in hand,
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Be seen at all to thrive,
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This passed on for two months space,
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And then the maid began,
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To settle love and liking too,
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Upon another man;
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One German, who a widower was,
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Her husband needs must be,
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Because he was of greater wealth,
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And better in degree.
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Her vows and promise lately made,
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To Bateman she denyd?
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And in dispite of him and his,
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She utterly defyd:
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Well then, quoth he, if it be so,
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That thou wilt me forsake,
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And like a false and forsworn-wretch;
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Another husband take.
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Thou shalt not live one quiet hour,
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For surely I will have
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Thee either now alive or dead,
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When I am laid in grave:
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Thy faithless mind thou shalt repent,
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Therefore be well assurd,
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When for my sake thou hearst report,
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What torments I endurd.
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But mark how Bateman dyd for love.
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And finishd his Life;
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That very day she marryd was,
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And made old Germans Wife,
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For with a strangling cord, got wot,
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(Great moan was made therefore)
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He hangd himself in desperate sort,
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Before the brides own door.
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Whereat such sorrow piercd her heart,
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And troubled sore her mind,
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That she could never after that,
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One day of comfort find:
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And wheresoever she did go,
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Her fancy did surmise,
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Young Batemans pale and ghastly ghost,
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Appeard before her eyes.
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When she in bed one night did lie,
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Betwixt her husbands arms,
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In hopes thereby to sleep and rest,
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In safety without harms:
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Great cries and grievous groans, she heard
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A voice that sometimes cryd,
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Oh! thou art she that I must have,
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And will not be denyd.
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But she being grown big with child,
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Was for the infants sake,
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Preserved from the spirits power,
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No vengence could it take.
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The babe unborn did safely keep,
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As God appointed so,
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His Mothers Body from the fiend,
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That sought her Overthrow.
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But being of her Burthen easd,
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And safely brought to bed,
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Her cares and griefs began a new,
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and further sorrow bred:
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And of her Friends she did intreat,
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desiring them to stay.
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Out of the Bed [quoth she] this Night,
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I shall be born away.
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Here comes the spirit of my Love,
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with pale and ghastly Face,
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Who till he carries me henceforth,
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will not depart this place,
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Alive or dead, Im his by Right,
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and he will surely have,
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In Spight of me and all the World,
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what I by promise gave.
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Oh! watch with me this Night, I pray,
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and see you do not sleep;
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No longer than you be awake,
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My Body can you keep,
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All promised to do their best,
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Yet nothing could suffice,
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In middle of the Night to keep
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Sad slumber from their eyes.
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So being all full fast asleep,
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To them unknown which way,
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The Child-bed woman, that woful night,
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From thence was born away:
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And to what place no creature knew,
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Nor to this day can tell;
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As strange a thing as ever yet
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In any age befell.
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You maidens that desire to love,
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And would good husbands choose,
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To him that you do vow to love,
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By no means do refuse:
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For God that hears all secret oaths,
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Will dreadful vengence taste,
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On such that of a wilful Vow,
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Do slender Reckoning make.
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