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A pleasant Ballad shewing how two

valliant Knights, Sir John Armstrong, and Sir Michael Musgrave, fell in Love with the Beautiful Daughter of the Lady Dacres in the North; and of the great Strife that happen'd

happen'd between them for her, and how they wrought the

Death of One hundred Men. Another Poet willing to conceal the ignomini

ous Death of Armstrong, has in this Song Knighted him and made his Rival kill him, at least I am apt to believe 'tis the same Armstrong he is talking of, and for that Reason I have inserted 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.


S it fell out one Whitfonday,

The Blith Time of the Year,

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.

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Fa la

Fa la tre dang de do;

Trang troe lo trang đe do ;
With hey trang trole lo lye,

She was a bonny Lass.
Sir Michael Musgrave in like fort

To Church repaired then,
And so did Sir Fohn 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 sat them down upon one Seat,

Like loving Brethren dear,
With Hearts and Minds devoutly bent

God's Service for to hear;
But rising from their Prayers tho'
Their Eyes a ranging ftrait did go,
Which wrought their utter Overthrow,

All for one bonny Lass.
Quoth Musgrave unto Armstrong then,

Yon sits the sweetest Dame,
That ever for her fair Beauty,

Within this Country came.
Insooth, quoth Armstrong presently,
Your Judgment I must verify,
There never came unto my Eye,

A braver bonny Lafs.
I swear, said Musgrave, by this Sword,

Which did my Knighthood win,
To steal away so sweet a Dame,

Could be no Ghostly Sin.
That Deed, quoth Armstrong, would be ill,
Except you had her right good Will,
That your Desire she would fulfil,

And be thy bonny Lafs.


By this the Service quite was done,

And home the People past;
They wish'd a Blifter on his Tongue,

That made thereof such 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 Isabella call'd.
With humble Thanks they went away,
Like wounded Harts chas'd all the Day.
One would not to the other say,

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 Chrif 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 shew'd,
Their Hearts were clogg'd with Care.
I 5



Fair Isabel, the one did say,
Thou hast subdu'd my Heart this Day.
But she's my Joy, did Musgrave say,

My bright and bonny Lafs.
With that these Friends incontinent,

Became most deadly Foes,
For love of beauteous Isabel,

Great Strife betwixt them rose :
Quoth Armstrong, She shall 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 she 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 appease their raging Ire,

Nor yet give o'er their Suit.
The Gentlemen of the North Country,
At last did make this good Decree,
All for a perfect Unity,

About this bonny Lafs.
The Love-sick Knights should both be set

Within one Hall so wide,
Each of them in a gallant fort,

Even at a several Tide;
And 'twixt them both for certainty,
Fair Isabel should placed be,
Of them to take her Choice full free,

Mop like a bonny Lafs.


And as she 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 she, and Armstrong seems a Sot,

Where Love binds him to prove ;
Of Courage great is Musgrave still,
And fith to chuse I have


will, Sweet Armstrong shall my Joys fulfil,

And I his bonny Lass.
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 Isabel his Lady gay,

A bright and bonny Lafs.
But Musgrave on the Wedding-Day,

Like to a Scotchman dight,
In secret fort allured out

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

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;


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