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A pleasant Ballad fhewing how two valliant Knights, Sir John ArmStrong, and Sir Michael Musgrave, fell in Love with the Beautiful

Daughter of of the Lady Dacres in the North; and of the great Strife that happen'd between them for her, and how they wrought the Death of One hundred Men.

Another Poet willing to conceal the ignominious Death of Armstrong, has in this Song Knighted him, and made his Rival kill him, at least I am apt to believe 'tis the fame Armstrong he is talking of, and for that Reafon I have inferted it, thinking myself oblig'd to do him as much Justice as to our famous English Outlaw Robin Hood, and to leave the Story of his Marriage upon Record.

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S it fell out one Whitfonday,

The Blith Time of the Year,

When every Tree was clad with green,

And pretty Birds fing clear:

The Lady Dacres took her way
Unto the Church that pleasant Day,
With her fair Daughter, fresh and gay,
A bright and bonny Lafs.

I 4

Fa la

Fa la tre dang de do;
Trang trole lo trang de do;
With hey trang trole lo lye,
She was a bonny Lafs.

Sir Michael Mufgrave in like fort
To Church repaired then,
And fo did Sir John Armstrong too,
With all his merry Men;

Two greater Friends there could not be,
Nor braver Knights for Chivalry,
Both Batchelors of high Degree,
Fit for a bonny Lafs.

They fat them down upon one Seat,
Like loving Brethren dear,
With Hearts and Minds devoutly bent
God's Service for to hear;

But rifing from their Prayers tho'

Their Eyes a ranging ftrait did go,
Which wrought their utter Overthrow,
All for one bonny Lafs.

Quoth Mufgrave unto Armstrong then,
Yon fits the sweetest Dame,
That ever for her fair Beauty,
Within this Country came.
Infooth, quoth Armfrong presently,
Your Judgment I must verify,
There never came unto my Eye,
A braver bonny Lafs.

I fwear, faid Mufgrave, by this Sword,
Which did my Knighthood win,

To fteal away fo fweet a Dame,

Could be no Ghostly Sin.

That Deed, quoth Armstrong, would be ill,
Except you had her right good Will,

That your Defire fhe would fulfil,

And be thy bonny Lafs.

By

By this the Service quite was done,
And home the People past;
They wish'd a Blister on his Tongue,
That made thereof fuch haste.

At the Church-Door the Knights did meet,
The Lady Dacres for to greet,
But most of all her Daughter sweet,
That beauteous bonny Lafs.

Said Armstrong to the Lady fair,
We both have made a Vow,
At Dinner for to be your Guests,
If you will it allow.

With that bespoke the Lady free,

Sir Knights, right welcome shall you be.
The happier Men therefore are we,

For Love of this bonny Lafs.

Thus were the Knights both prick'd in Love,
Both in one Moment thrall'd,

And both with one fair Lady gay,

Fair Ifabella call'd.

With humble Thanks they went away,

Like wounded Harts chas'd all the Day.

One would not to the other fay,

They lov'd this bonny Lafs.

Fair Ifabel on the other side
As far in Love was found,

So long brave Armstrong she had ey'd,
Till Love her Heart did wound:
Brave Armstrong is my Joy, quoth she;
Would Chrift he were alone with me,
To talk an Hour two or three
With his fair bonny Lafs.

But as these Knights together rode,

And Homeward did repair,

Their Talk and eke their Countenance fhew'd,
Their Hearts were clogg'd with Care.

12

I 5

Fair

Fair Ifabel, the one did say,
Thou haft fubdu'd my Heart this Day.
But she's my Joy, did Mufgrave say,
My bright and bonny Lafs.

With that these Friends incontinent,
Became most deadly Foes,
For love of beauteous Ifabel,

Great Strife betwixt them rofe:
Quoth Armstrong, She fhall be my Wife,
Although for her I lose my Life;
And thus began a deadly Strife,
And for one bonny Lafs.

Thus two Years long this Grudge did grow,
These gallant Knights between,
While they a wooing both did go,
Unto this beauteous Queen :
And the who did their Furies prove,
To neither would bewray her Love,
The deadly Quarrel to remove,
About this bonny Lafs.

But neither for her fair Intreats,
Nor yet her sharp Dispute,
Would they appeafe their raging Ire,

Nor yet give o'er their Suit.

The Gentlemen of the North Country,

At laft did make this good Decree,
All for a perfect Unity,

About this bonny Lafs.

The Love-fick Knights fhould both be fet

Within one Hall fo wide,

Each of them in a gallant fort,

Even at a several Tide;

And 'twixt them both for certainty,

Fair Ifabel fhould placed be,

Of them to take her Choice full free,

Moft like a bonny Lafs.

And

And as fhe like an Angel bright,
Betwixt them mildly stood,

She turn'd unto each several Knight
With pale and changed Blood:
Now am I at liberty

To make and take my Choice, quoth she.
Yea, quoth the Knights, we do agree,
Then chufe thou bonny Lafs.

O Mufgrave, thou art all too hot
To be a Lady's Love,

Quoth fhe, and Armstrong feems a Sot,
Where Love binds him to prove ;
Of Courage great is Mufgrave still,
And fith to chufe I have my will,
Sweet Armarong fhall my Joys fulfil,
And I his bonny Lafs.

The Nobles and the Gentles both,
That were in present Place,
Rejoyced at this sweet Record;
But Mufgrave in Disgrace,
Out of the Hall did take his way,
And Armstrong marryed was next Day,
With Ifabel his Lady gay,

A bright and bonny Lafs.

But Mufgrave on the Wedding-Day,
Like to a Scotchman dight,

In fecret fort allured out

The Bridegroom for to fight; And he that will not out-brav'd be, Unto his Challenge did agree, Where he was flain most fuddenly

For his fair bonny Lafs.

The News whereof was quickly brought
Unto the lovely Bride:

And many of young Armstrong's Kin

Did after Mufgrave ride;

The

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