"If ye luve me, my lady gay, As ye protest ye do, Then turn your love from this gay knight, 230 And reach your hand to me." Then out spake the gay baronne, And an angry man was he; "If I had known she was belov'd, She had never been lov'd by me." 235 When she was set on high horse-back, And riding thro' the glen, They saw her father posting quick, With fifty armed men. "Do for yourself, my hireman lad, 240 And for your safety flee; My father he will take me back, But married I'll never be." When they were up yon rising hill, There low down i' the glen, 245 He saw his father's gilded coach, Wi' five hundred gentlemen. "Come back, turn back, my hireman chiel, Turn back and speak wi' me; Ye've serv'd me lang for the lady's sake, 250 Come back, and get your fee." "Your blessing give us instantly, Is all we crave o' thee; These seven years I've serv'd for her sake, But now I'm paid my fee." 255 37. As. ARMSTRONG AND MUSGRAVE. From _A Collection of Old Ballads_, i. 175. 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.