Widow's Curse

In London dwelt a merchant man who left unto his son

A thousand pounds in land each year to spend when he was gone

No sooner was his father dead and buried in his grave

Than this his wild and wanton son his mind to lewdness gave

Within the seas of fleshly love, his heart was drowned so deep

At night he could not quietly without strange women sleep

So he kept women secretly to feed his heart's desire

And he dressed them all as gallant boys in pages' trim attire

But then one day upon the round he spied a lovely dame

Who was the widow's daughter dear of good report and fame

He beauty like the purple rose so glittered in his eye

That ravished by the same he sought her secret company

Then like a lustful lecher he found such convenient time

That he enforced her to drink 'till she was drunk with wine

And being over-charged with wine, a maiden's head is weak

He ravished her and when that she no reluctance make

And mark I pray what then befell unto this modest dame

When she recovered her lost sense and found of her defame

He womb began to swell; in time the babe received life

Though she was neither widow nor dame nor yet a married wife

Said she: "The babe within my womb shall never yet be born.

Not called a bastard by such wives that hold my fate in scorn"

"For I a strumpet in disgrace though one against my will

Before that I would shame my friends my own life's blood I'll spill

And as with wine I was deceived and made a victicious dame

So I will wash away with wine my scarlet spots of shame"

Then drinking down hot burning wine she yielded up her breath

By which the same the unborn babe was scalded unto death

Upon her knees her her mother fell; to heaven did cry and call

"If ever widow's curse," quoth she, "on mortal man did fall,

Then say amen to mine, oh Lord, that he may never thrive

Who was the cause of this sad fate but not rot away alive"

His nails from out his fingers fell his eyes from out his head

His toes they rotted from his feet before that he was dead

His tongue that had false sworn so oft to compass his desire

Within his mouth did swell and burn like coals of sparking fire

And thus in torment for his sins the wicked villain died

Whose hateful carcass after death could not in earth abide

But in the maws of carrion crows the ravens made their tomb

And then in hell he screamed and writhed in everlasting doom!