YOUNG BATEMAN's GHOST; Or,
A Godly Warning to all Maidens, by the Example of God's Judgment shewn upon
one German's Wife, of Clifton, in the County of Nottingham, who lately lying in
Child bed, was borne away, and never heard of after. [Tune Flying Fame.
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YOU dainty dames so finely fram'd,
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Of beauty's chiefest mould,
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And you that trip it up and down,
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Like lambs of Cupid's fold;
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Here is a lesson to be learn'd,
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A lesson in the 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 belov'd
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Of many of 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 call'd 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 liking there was found,
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That he from all the rest,
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Had stolen away the maiden's 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 brake a piece of gold in twain,
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One half to her her 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 ne'er 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 to,
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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 deny'd;
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And in despite of him and his,
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She utterly defy'd:
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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 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'm laid in the grave:
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Thy faithless mind thou shalt repent,
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Therefore be well assur'd,
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When for my sake thou hear'st report,
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What torments I endur'd.
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But mark how Bateman dy'd for love,
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And finished his life,
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That very day she married was,
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And made old Germans wife;
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For with a strangling cord, God wot,
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Great moan was made therefore,
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He hang'd himself in desperate sort,
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Before the bride's own door.
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Whereat such sorrow pierc'd 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 Bateman's pale and ghastly ghost,
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appear'd before her eyes.
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When she in bed one night did lie,
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betwixt her husband's 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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and voice, that sometimes said,
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oh, thou art she that I must have,
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and will not be deny'd.
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But she being now grown big with child,
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Was for the infant's sake,
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Preserved from the spirit's power,
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No vengeance 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 mother's body from the fiend,
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That sought her overthrow.
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But being of her burden eas'd,
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And safely brought to bed,
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Her cares and grief began anew,
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And further sorrow bred;
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And of her friends she did entreat,
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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 borne 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 carry me henceforth,
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Will not depart this place:
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Alive or Dead, I'm his by right,
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And he will surely have,
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In spite 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 then you do not wake,
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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 woeful night,
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From thence was borne 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 befel.
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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 vengeance take,
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On such that of a woeful vow,
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Do slender Reckoning make.
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