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 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, Thy faithlefs mind thou fhalt repent; 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, For with a strangling-cord, God wot, Before the brides own door. Whereat Whereat fuch forrow pierc'd her heart, And troubled fore her mind, That fhe could never, after that, Young Batemans pale and ghaftly ghoft When she in bed at night did lie, Great cries, and grievous groans fhe heard, O thou art fhe that I must have, But the being big with child, His mothers body from the fiend, But being of her burden eas'd, 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, Here comes the fpirit of my love, In fpite of me, and all the world, O watch with me this night, I pray; So being all full fast asleep, And to what place no creature knew, Nor to this day can tell; As ftrange a thing as ever yet You You maidens that defire to love, For God, that hears all fecret oaths, On fuch that of a wilful vow BALLAD IV. THE WANDERING PRINCE OF TROY. HEN Troy town, for ten years wars, WHEN Then did their foes encrease so fast, That to refift none could fuffice: 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, 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, And then a thousand fighs he fetch'd, As he had feen thofe wars again; So that the queen, with ruth therefor, The darksome night apace grew on, And every one was laid in bed; Save only Didos boiling breast. |