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And when he came to fair Margaret's bower,

He knocked at the ring ;
So ready were her seven brethren,

To let sweet William in.

Then he turn'd up the covering-sheet,

Pray let me see the dead; • Methinks she looks both pale and wan,

• She has lost her cherry red.

* I'll do more for thee, Margaret, Than

any

of thy kin; • For I will kiss thy pale wan lips,

Though a smile I cannot win.'

With that bespoke the seven brethren,

Making most piteous moan, You may go kiss your jolly brown dame,

And let our sister alone.'

* If I do kiss my jolly brown dame,

• I do but what is right; * For I made no vow to your sister dear,

By day, nor yet by night.

Pray tell me, then, how much you'll deal • Of white bread and

your

wine : * So much as is dealt at her funeral to-day,

To-morrow shall be dealt at mine.'

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Fair Margaret died to-day, to-day,

Sweet William he died the morrow : Fair Margaret died for pure true love,

Sweet William he died for sorrow.

Margaret was buried in the lower chancèl,

And William in the higher ;
Out of her breast there sprang a rose,

And out of his a brier.

They grew as high as the church-top,

Till they could grow no higher ;
And there they grew in a true lover's knot,

Which made all the people admire.

Then came the clerk of the parish,

As you this truth shall hear,
And by misfortune cut them down,

Or they had now been there,

BALLAD III.

BATEMAN'S TRAGEDY.*

You dainty dames so finely fram'd

Of beauty's chiefest mold,
And you that trip it up and down,

Like lambs in Cupid's fold,
Here is a lesson to be learn'd;

A lesson in my mind,
For such as will prove false in love,

And bear a faithless mind.

* The full title of the old copy is, 'A Godly Warning to all • Maidens, by the Example of God's Judgment shewed on Jerman's • Wife of Clifton, in the county of Nottingham ; who, lying in child. • bed, was born away, and never heard of after.' A tragedy, en. Not far from Nottingham, of late,

In Clifton, as I hear,
There dwelt a fair and comely dame,

For beauty without peer ;
Her cheeks were like the crimson-rose ;

Yet, as you may perceive,
The fairest face, the falsest heart,

And soonest will deceive.

This gallant dame she was belov'd

Of many in that place ;
And many sought, in marriage-bed,

Her body to embrace :
At last a proper handsome youth,

Young Bateman call’d by name,
In hopes to make a married wife,

Unto this maiden came.

Such love and liking there was found,

That he, from all the rest,
Had stol'n away the maiden's heart,

And she did love him best :
Then plighted promise secretly

Did pass between them two,
That nothing could, but death itself,

This true love's knot undo.

He brake a piece of gold in twain,

One half to her he gave;

titled “The Vow-breaker,' written by one William Sampson, and printed in 1639, is founded on this ballad; and quotes two or three verses from it, as “a lamentable new ditty.'

• The other, as a pledge, (quoth he,)

* Dear heart, myself will have.' • If I do break my vow, (quoth she,)

• While I remain alive, * May never thing I take in hand

Be seen at all to thrive.'

This passed on for two months space,

And then this maid began
To settle love and liking too

Upon another man:
One Jerman, who a widower was,

Her husband needs must be,
Because he was of greater wealth,

And better in degree.

Her vows and promise, lately made

To Bateman, she denied ; And in despite of him and his,

She utterly defied. * Well then, (quoth he,) if it be so,

* That you will me forsake, ? And, like a false and forsworn wretch,

Another husband take :

· Thou shalt not live one quiet hour,

For surely I will have * Thee, either now alive, or dead,

• When I am laid in grave: Thy faithless mind thou shalt repent ;

Therefore be well assur’d, When, for thy sake, thou hear'st report • What torments I endur'd.'

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But mark how Bateman died for love,

And finish'd up his life,
That very day she married was,

And made old Jerman's wife ;
For with a strangling cord, God wot,

Great moan was made therefore ;
He hang'd himself, in desperate sort,

Before the bride's own door.

Whereat such sorrow pierc'd her heart,

And troubled sore her mind, That she could never, after that,

One day of comfort find;
And wheresoever she did go,

Her fancy did surmise,
Young Bateman's pale and ghastly ghost

Appear’d before her eyes.

When she in bed at night did lie,

Betwixt her husband's arms, In hope thereby to sleep and rest

In safety, without harms; Great cries, and grievous groans she heard,

A voice that sometimes said, • O thou art she that I must have,

"And will not be denied.'

But she, being big with child,

Was, for the infant's sake, Preserved from the spirit's power,

No vengeance could it take : The babe unborn did safely keep,

As God appointed so,

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