A Warning for all Murderers.  
A most rare, strange, and wonderful accident, which by God's just judgement was brought to pass, not far from Rithin in Wales, and shown upon three most wicked persons, who had secretly and cunningly murdered a young Gentleman named David Williams, that by no means it could be known, and how in the end it was revenged by a child of five years old, which was in his Mother's womb, and unborn when the deed was done.  
To the tune of, wigmore's Galliard.  
 
 

GIve ear unto my story true,  
you graceless men on earth:  
Which any way in secret seek  
your neighbours timeless death.  
Not many pleasant Summers past  
this wicked work was done,  
Which three accursed kinsmen wrought  
against their Uncle's son.   

A kind and courteous Gentleman,  
his aged Father's joy,  
The only heir into his Lands  
that should his place enjoy.  
His envious Nephews gaping still,  
his day of death to see,  
Thought every year that he did live,  
seven years and more to been.   

Because this gentle Gentleman,  
once being laid in grave,  
Their aged Uncle being dead,  
they should the living have:  
The thought whereof did often make  
their hearts with joy abound,  
For that they knew the living worth  
each year an hundred pound.   

But when they saw this toward Youth  
live up to man's estate,  
And to himself hath likewise chose  
a faithful loving mate,  
Then were they out of hope and heart,  
but most, when they did see  
His beauteous wife in little space,  
most big with child to been.   

Then did the Devil entice them strait  
to murder, death, and blood,  
Thereby to purchase to themselves  
their long desired good.  
A hundred ways they did devise  
this Gentleman to kill:  
But yet his wife being big with child,  
stuck in their stomach still.   

If we should slay the one, they said,  
and let the other live,  
No comfort to our hearts desire  
that deed at all would give:  
The brat new bred within her womb,  
none can for heir deny:  
Therefore 'tis meet and requisite,  
that both of them should die.   

And for to blind the eyes of men,  
strange garments had they got,  
Which to perform that wicked deed  
they only did allot.  
And after this most bad pretence,  
the Gentleman each day,  
Still felt his heart to throb and faint,  
and sad he was always.   

His sleep was full of dreadful dreams,  
in bed where he did lie,  
His heart was heavy in the day,  
yet knew no reason why,  
And oft as he did sit at meat,  
his nose most suddenly,  
Would spring and gush out crimson blood,  
and strait it would be dry.   

It chanced so upon a time,  
as he his supper ate,  
His eyes and heart so heavy were,  
that he slept at his meat,  
Now fie, then quoth his loving wife,  
and work him presently,  
Why is my Dear so drowsy now?  
quoth he, I know not, I.   

Good wife, he said, let us go walk  
about our Land a while,  
I shall be wakened thoroughly,  
when I have walked a mile.  
His wife agreed, and forth they went,  
most kindly arm in arm:  
But suddenly were they espied,  
that thought on little harm.   

At length three sturdy men they met,  
in Soldier's tattered rags,  
With swords fast girt unto their sides,  
which tangled in their jags:  
Their faces smeared with dirt and soot,  
in loathsome beastly wise,  
With black thrumbed hats upon their heads  
as is the Germans guise.   

And when they saw no persons nigh,  
those helpless couple then,  
They wounded sore in cruel sort,  
like most accursed men,  
And in the thickest of the corn,  
which in that place was high,  
They dragged the murdered bodies then,  
and so away did high.   

And soon they shifted off their rags,  
and hid them by the way,  
And weaponless they homeward went,  
clad in their own array.  
Long did the silly servants wait  
their Masters coming home,  
Which dead within the field did lie,  
all bathed in bloody foam.   
FINIS.   

Printed at London for Henry Gosson, dwelling upon London Bridge, near the Gate.   

A Warning for all Murderers.  
The second part of the Murder of David Williams, and his Wife being great with child, which was revenged by a child of five years old, which was in his Mother's womb, and unborn when the deed was done.  
To the tune of, wigmore's Galliard.  

AT length, when dark and gloomy clouds  
had shadowed all the sky,  
The servants wandered up and down,  
their Master to espy:  
And as they passed along the place  
where these were lately slain,  
Within the corn they heard one groan,  
as heart would break in twain.   

And running strait to search and see,  
who gave this ghastly sound:  
Their Master dead their Mistress stabbed,  
yet living there they found,  
In bitter pangs in travel then  
this woeful woman lay,  
And was delivered of a Son,  
before the break of day.   

Then died she incontinent,  
no memory had she  
For to descry the murderers,  
nor found they could not be.  
They both together buried were,  
the child to Nurse was set,  
Which thrived and prospered passing well,  
no sickness did him let.   

But now behold God's judgement just:  
the truth I shall you tell,  
Ere this child was seven quarters old,  
this strange event befell:  
One of the murderers being set  
at Tables on a day,  
The Nurse did chance to bring this child  
within that place to play.   

The child under the Table got,  
unthought of any one,  
And bit his Cousin by the leg,  
hard at the ankle bone,  
Which by no help nor Art of man  
could èver healed be,  
But swelled and rotten in such sort,  
that thereof died he.   

Not full a twelvemonth after this,  
this child did chance to be,  
Whereas the second murderer  
was drinking merrily:  
He took one of the biggest pins  
that stuck about his breast,  
And thrust it in his Kinsman's thigh,  
where then the sign did rest.   

Which done, he laughing ran his way,  
the wound did bleed amain:  
By no means could they staunch the blood,  
nor ease his extreme pain.  
The grief and anguish was so great,  
which thereof did proceed,  
That ere three days were fully passed,  
the man to death did bleed.   

The child with rods was swinged full sore,  
for this unhappy act,  
Yet never would forgiveness ask  
for his committed fact.  
Thus past it on, until the time  
this child was five years old:  
The other murderer living still  
with conscience bad, behold,   

He never after saw the child,  
but he would shun the place,  
The child did never look on him,  
but with a frowning face:  
And stones at him still would he fling,  
where ere he did him meet:  
Which made the neighbour's wonder much  
that oftentimes did séeed.   

In Harvest next this little child,  
with other boys beside,  
Went to the Fields, and open mouthed,  
this man asleep they spied:  
The child having a bramble stick,  
within his hand to play,  
Did thrust it down his Cousin's throat,  
a sleeping as he lay.   

The man therewith being soon awaked,  
did strive to pull it out:  
And he thereby did rend and tear  
his windpipe round about:  
Which being found incurable,  
as he lay in his bed,  
His murderous deed he did confess,  
as you before have read.   
FINIS.   

Printed at London for Henry Gosson dwelling upon London Bridge, near the Gate.