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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Arnalte to Belisa. |
 | A Small Treatise betwixt Arnalte and Lucenda Entituled The Evill-intreated Lover, Or The Melancholy Knight |  |
Arnalte to Belisa.
My sister pausing, I did this reply:Thy passion sister moves me to comply
Vnto thy will, and forces me declare,
What by my gesture doth most plaine appeare:
But I am urg'd, more through thy earnestnesse,
Than my owne will, to answer thy requests.
Had I not seene these thy unfaigned teares,
Thou ne're hadst heard this answer with thy eares.
Yet e're I ought relate, I thee intreat,
When as my tongue my sufferings shall repeat,
Not to disturbe thy selfe; for sooner I,
Then leave my purpose, am resolv'd to dye.
Then thus it is, my selfe I doe not know
By what strange meanes, but I was forc'd to bow,
And yeeld myselfe to Loves all-conquering Lawes,
Without provisoes, or a helping clause;
To which my fortune hath me so confin'd,
That nought but trouble I doe daily find:
For my sad heart's besieg'd, environ'd round
With many torments, who would me confound.
A thousand sobs guard my distressed heart,
As many sighes their vexing aide impart:
Millions of woes, like bands of armed Knights,
Stop up the passage of my sweete delights;
Which siege still dures, and in that cruell wise,
That all th'opposement that I can devise,
Whether in mining with my deepest thoughts,
Or climbing Ladders by aspiring wrought,
Cannot obtaine a wisht for victory.
For love opposes, proves an enemy
Vnto my fortune, who doth faintly strive
Against th'incounters, which love fiercely drives.
Oh thus it is, if death doe not lend succour,
Too late 'twill bee, if else where I't recover:
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Or vexe thy selfe, though sorrow should me slay,
But rather joy, since thou hast a brother,
Who can his sorrowes, and his torments smother.
If ought thou'lt do wherewith thou wilt me pleasure,
Dry up those teares, which trickle out of measure
Along thy cheekes, bedewing thy faire face,
Where love and beauty sit with equall grace:
If teares would helpe me, I'de alone deplore,
I need no partner, for of teares I've store.
But since these watry streames, which over-flow
Like rising Nilus, cause but passion grow;
Farre better 'tis to let thy Sluces downe,
And stop their fury, least they doe thee drowne.
Two different Planets reigned at our births,
Mine prophes'd sorrow, thine presaged mirth:
For all the pleasure that I'de seeke or chuse,
I'de turne it over to thy proper use,
Cause justly it to thee doth appertaine;
For care and travaile, I doe nought else claime,
And can more stoutly beare them and resist
Them manfully, and spight their force subsist
With farre more vigour than thou canst expresse;
For in thy heart there is no roome to rest
Or harbour such afflictions, be content
For these my reasons, and I pray consent
That we may live, my selfe in sad distresse,
And thou in joy and true happinesse.
If this you contradict, or else oppose,
I shall believe that you professe but showes,
Not wishing me the good you doe expresse,
Since to my will you proove to be adverse:
Doubling my woes, causing my paine to thrive
Through thy bewailings: oh practise, learne, strive
To o'recome thy sorrow, cease henceforth to grieve,
Or moane the paine wherein I tortur'd live,
Else shall I have more cause for to lament,
Feeling more sorrow linkt with discontent.
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I her requests did answer satisfice,
Did then intend not to sollicite more
To know the reason why I did deplore:
But cunningly resolved for to find
The sad effects of my disturbed minde,
And to search out with slye subtilties
The hidden Spring from whence my paines did rise.
For endlesse woes did still associate me,
And vexing sorrows kept me company.
My Sister then she was no sooner gone,
But I gave way to let my griefe come on
More freely then I ever did afore,
Which I did cherish dayly more and more:
What anguishes, what torments did acquaint
M'afflicted heart which did through sorrow faint
With their hard usage, and their cruell power,
Turning my sweet into a bitter sower!
During the which I ne're could take my rest.
I was borne wretched, and did live opprest;
But being got on sorrows highest staire,
Arrived at the period of dispaire,
I then remembred how on a certaine time
I had reveal'd unto a friend of mine,
(A Gentleman, and my familiar mate)
The love I beare Lucenda, and the state
Wherein I liv'd, and how that he did strive
That loving humour from my minde to drive:
For which occasion since I had not beene
To shew my minde, or else to speake with him,
Weighing the danger that might so arise,
For well I knew in such necessities
And weighty matters, if a man disclose
His secret thoughts (although he doe suppose
It's to his friend) he may the hazard run,
His hope to frustrate, and so overturne
His expectation; for through secresie
The Lover's crown'd with true felicity.
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I did conclude once more for to unhide
To him of whom I speake all my affections,
Hoping he'd pitty give me some directions.
What me emboldned, was because that he
Next neighbour was unto Lucenda she:
Were I lodg'd where this my friend did dwell,
I then might see and please my eye-sight well:
For which intent I sent to pray him come
To visite me, which straight of him was done.
Then at's arrivall, I the cause did show
For which I caus'd him come, and let him know
The confidence and trust I did repose
In him my friend, these secrets to disclose.
For this he thank't me very lovingly;
And whereas he before did often try
For to divert me from my fixt intent,
My minde to alter, which to love was bent,
He now gave notice that he did approve
To lend me succour to obtaine my love:
Which to effect, more pitty to infuse
Within his breast, these words I then did use.
| A Small Treatise betwixt Arnalte and Lucenda Entituled The Evill-intreated Lover, Or The Melancholy Knight | |