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A Small Treatise betwixt Arnalte and Lucenda Entituled The Evill-intreated Lover, Or The Melancholy Knight

Originally written in the Greeke Tongue, by an unknowne Author. Afterwards Translated into Spanish; after that, for the Excellency thereof, into the French Tongue by N. H. next by B. M. into the Thuscan, and now turn'd into English Verse by L. L. [i.e. Leonard Lawrence] a well-wisher to the Muses

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Thus was my Letter finish'd, yet friend know,
E're I give order that my Page should goe
For to deliver't to the milke white hand
Of her, at whom all eyes amazed stand:
I did instruct him in what manner he.
Ought to proceed, and carefull for to be;
Wisely to chuse the place, and time most fit,
To tender to her view what I had writ:
That if perhaps Lucenda should refuse
For to receive it, then she might not chuse:
These my commands unto th'obsequious will
Of my observing Page, were pleasing still:

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For by his actions he did still expresse
His love and care to gaine me some redresse,
Daily endeavouring to relieve me, he
At length had spy'd her all alone to be;
Then taking hold of opportunity,
He there intreated her as covertly
As possibly he might, that she'd vouchsafe
T'accept my Lines, to daigne me so much grace;
How she did like of this Discourse so strange,
Shee made expression by her colours change:
Nor could she so dissemble, or disguise
Her inward thoughts, but by her blushing eyes
She did reveale them; for we oft discry
By outward Symptomes what doth inward lye.
Yet ne'rethelesse my Page, as well advis'd,
Weighing the paine I suffer'd from her eyes,
At nought did marvaile, but did still intreat
Her gracious pitty to asswage my heat:
But she, alas, did no attention lend
To his intreates, nor yet her favour send;
For seeing that she still was importun'd,
That on her patience he too farre presum'd,
Thinking to free her selfe, she forthwith went
From her soft resting seat with discontent.
Which when my Page perceiv'd, he suddainely,
With large stept paces after her did hye,
And swiftly speeding, he her over-tooke,
Then threw my Letter where she needes must looke,
Which fell so fairely, that necessity
Inforc'd her will thereon to cast her eye,
And take it up, but with such entertaine,
That it a thousand rents did straight waies gaine:
Which spightfull act did re-assault my heart,
With a strong troope of more than killing smarts.
For when I saw my hopes thus blasted, and
My griefes still crescent, I had no command
O're my sad soule; a death-resembling cold
Possess'd my spirits, and my hopes control'd:

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Which deepe distemper of my wounded breast
Did so torment me, that it did expresse
Me more than wretched: thus I still endur'd
Heart-burning tortures, hopelesse to be cur'd,
Unlesse pale Death should penetrate my heart
With the sharpe edge of his all-killing Dart.
Thus fraught with passion and distracting care,
O're-come with griefe, possest with grim dispaire,
Unto my selfe I grew so strange a foe,
And such a friend unto my smarting woe,
That I embrac't it with a great delight,
And entertain'd it dayly in my sight.
For if for refuge or some helpe I sought,
I had recourse unto my sorrowing thoughts:
And like sad Philomel in mourning Layes,
I warbling, grieving spent full many dayes;
Untill a morning which with ruddy looke,
Did drive dim mists from off the silver Brookes,
And that Aurora clad in Purple gay,
Had chas'd blacke Night, and brought on cheerefull Day,
Or that bright Titan in the Easterne streames
Began to bathe his fiery-flaming beames;
For then my Page who still was circumspect,
And tooke great heed m'affaires not to neglect,
Came in and told me how Lucenda, she
The following night resolved for to be
At divine service; this then straight-wayes past
For truth unto my breast, since th'Eve it was
Of Christ his Masse: (Oh ever honour'd time,
Too great a Subject for my love-sicke Rime)
Having heard this, I straight wayes summon'd in
My Wits to counsaile what I should begin.
Then for to ease my sad afflicted heart,
I did intend a new projected part;
Which to accomplish I resolv'd, disguis'd
In Ladies habite for to blind the eyes
Of slye suspition; so for to draw neare
My honourd Lady, sitting void of feare,

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Hoping by that fine slight for to prevent
The babbling tongue of dangers utterment;
Then being accoutr'd ev'ry way compleat,
Vested like her I went, and tooke my seate
Nigh to the place whereas she us'd to be
At any time of high solemnity;
And she not doubting of my cunning plot,
(For so disguis'd alack she knew me not)
At her arrivall, though her tongue were mute,
With courtesie she did me then salute.
Nights Negro Queene, having the earth o're-spread
With her blacke vaile, and in bright Phœbus stead,
Pale Luna shining with her spangl'd traine,
Whose glimmering lights did dart a twinkling flame:
I found occasion since the silent Night,
Th'obscure place (which might some others fright)
Propitious prov'd, these words for to declare
Unto Lucenda in perfections rare.