The story of this ballad seems to be the same as that of Lord Livingston, in the third volume of this collection (p. 343). The whole title is as follows:
A pleasant ballad shewing how two valiant 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.
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 5
Unto the church that pleasant day,
With her fair daughter fresh and gay,
A bright and bonny lass.
Sir Michael Musgrave, in like sort,
To church repaired then, 10
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, 15
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; 20
But rising from their prayers tho,
Their eyes a ranging strait did go,
Which wrought their utter overthrow,
All for one bonny lass.
Quoth Musgrave unto Armstrong then, 25
"Yon sits the sweetest dame,
That ever for her fair beauty
Within this country came."
"In sooth," quoth Armstrong presently,
"Your judgment I must verify, 30
There never came unto my eye
A braver bonny lass."
"I swear," said Musgrave, "by this sword,
Which did my knighthood win,
To steal away so sweet a dame, 35
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 lass." 40
By this the service quite was done,
And home the people past;
They wish'd a blister on his tongue
That made thereof such haste.
At the church door the knights did meet, 45
The Lady Dacres for to greet,
But most of all her daughter sweet,
That beauteous bonny lass.
Said Armstrong to the lady fair,
"We both have made a vow 50
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, 55
For love of this bonny lass."
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. 60
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 lass.