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 between them for Her, and how they wrought the Death of one hundred Men.
To an excellent new Northern Tune, &c.
AS it fell out one Whitsunday,
the blith time of the Year,
When every tree was clad with green,
and pretty birds sing clear;
The Lady Dacres took her way
Vnto the Church that pleasant day,
With her fair Daughter fresh and gay,
a bright and bonny Lass,
Fa la tre dang de do;
trang trole lo trang de do;
With hey trang trole lo lye,
she was a bonny Lass.
Sir Michael Musgrave in like sort,
to Church repaired then,
And so 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 Lass.
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 straight did go,
Which wrought their utter overthrow,
all for one bonny Lass.
Qd. Musgrave unto Armstrong then,
You sits the sweetest Dame,
That ever for her fair beauty,
within this Country came.
Insooth, quoth Armstrong presentily,
Your judgment I must verifie,
There never came unto my eye,
a braver bonny Lass.
I swear, said Musgrave, by this sword,
which did my Knight-hood win,
To steal away so sweet a Dame,
could be no ghostly sin.
That deed, qd. Armstrong, would be ill,
Except he had her right good will,
That your desire she would fulfil,
and be thy bonny Lass.
By this the service quire was done,
and home the People past:
They wisht a blister on his tongue,
that made thereof such hast.
At the Church-door the Knights did meet,
The Lady Dacres for to greet,
But most of all her Daughter sweet,
that beautious bonny Lass.
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 Lass.
Thus was the Knights both prickt in love,
both in one moment thrall'd,
And both with one fair Lady gay,
thus blind in Cupid call'd[?].
With humble thanks they went away,
Like wounded harts chast all the day.
One would not to the other say,
they lov'd this bonny Lass.
Fair Isabel 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 Ioy, quoth she,
Would Christ he were alone with me.
To talk an hour two or three;
with his fair bonny Lass.
But as these Knights together rode,
and homeward did repair,
Their talk & eke their countenance shew'd,
their hearts were clog'd with care;
Fair Isabel, the one did say,
Thou hast subdu'd, my heart this day.
But she's my Ioy, did Musgrave say,
my bright and bonny Lass.
With that these Friends incontinent,
became most deadly Foes,
For love of beautious 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 Lass.
Thus two years long this grudge did grow,
these gallant Knights between,
While they a wooing both did go;
unto this beautious Queen;
And she who did their furies prove,
To neither would bewray her love,
The deadly quarrel to remove,
about this bonny Lass.
But neither of her fair intreats,
nor yet her sharp dispute,
Would they appease their raging ire,
nor yet give o're their suit.
The Gentlemen of the North Country,
At last did make this good decree,
All for a perfect unity,
about this bonny Lass;
The Love-sick Knights should both be set
within one hall so wide,
Each of them in a gallant sort,
then at a several tide;
And 'twixt them both for certainty,
Fair Isabel should placed be
Of them to take her choice full free
most like a bonny Lass.
And as she like an Angel bright,
betwixt them mildly stood,
She turned 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 chuse thou bonny Lass.
O Musgrave, 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 sith to chuse I have my will,
Sweet Armstrong shall my joys fulfil,
and I his bonny Lass.
The Nobles and the Gentiles boths
that were in present place,
Rejoyced at this sweet record
but Musgrave in disgrace,
Out of the hall did take his way,
And Armstrong married was next day
With Isabel his Lady gay,
a bright and bonny Lass.
But Musgrave on the wedding-day;
like to a Scotch-man dight,
In secret sort allured out
the Bridegroom for to fight;
And he that will not out-brav'd be,
Vnto his challenge did agree,
Where he was slain most suddenly,
for his fair bonny Lass.
The news hereof was quickly brought
unto the lovely Bride:
And many of young Armstrong's Kin,
did after Musgrave ride;
They hew'd him when they had him got,
As small as flesh into the pot;
Lo thus befel a heavy lot,
about this bonny Lass.
The Lady young which did lament
this cruel cursed strife,
For very grief died that day,
a Maiden and a Wife:
An hundred Men that hapless day,
Did loose their lives in that same fray;
And 'twixt those Names as many say,
is deadly Hate still 'biding.
Licens'd and Enter'd according to Order.
LONDON: Printed by and for W. O. and are to be sold by J. Blare, on London-bridge.