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 the Traveller.
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 | A Small Treatise betwixt Arnalte and Lucenda Entituled The Evill-intreated Lover, Or The Melancholy Knight |  |
Arnalte to the Traveller.
Now since the Armes were denoted, IDid straight-wayes goe to the Kings Majesty,
Informing him exactly of what had
Past betwixt Yerso and my selfe, (most sad)
So that he hearing th'infidelity
Of my past friend, then growne my enemy,
It seem'd so strange to him that he did yeeld
At my request to grant us both the field.
Then on the day assign'd, Yerso and I,
We did appeare before his Majesty,
He having caus'd a Scaffold for to be
Built and erected, that he there might see
Who should be Master of the field, and gaine
A glorious conquest, to maintaine his fame:
Then having view'd our Armes, which his Grace
Found very equall, th'oath us'd in that case
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Had gi'ne the Signall to the field, away
With speed we hasted for to take our course,
Running against each other with such force,
That the rude shock, of our rescounter did
Expresse what love was in our bosomes hid:
But Yerso then being as fortunate,
As a good Horse-man he did penetrate
My naked arme with his pointed steele,
With which being wounded, I great paine did feele;
But as for my part, I had no such chance,
I onely counterbuft him with my Lance
Vpon the viser of his Helmet bright;
Yet did I not direct the stroake so right,
But that I mist to wound him with the thrust.
Thus by we rode, our Lances being burst,
Which flew to shivers, lying scatter'd round
Vpon the verdent Grasse and trampled ground.
Our Staves thus broke, we quickly did betake
Vs to our keen-edg'd Swords, that they might make
Good what our Speares had fail'd of their pretence:
Then fiercely driving we did both commence
A fray so bloody, that the Crimson gore
Did trickle downe upon the grasse all-o're,
Thundring our blowes with fury violent,
That through our Armour they a passage rent,
To make a way unto our vitall parts,
That unawares they might surprise our hearts.
We slic'd our Shields, we clave our Helmets bright,
And were so eager on our bloody fight,
That the Spectators weary were to see
The Combate last so long; as also we
Grew faint with striking and through losse of blood,
Which flowed from us like a purple flood.
But to be briefe, I gain'd the victory,
And Yerso vanquisht at my feet did lye:
By which his Treason plainely was proclaim'd,
And my just right and innocence maintain'd.
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A life of Almes, rather would maintaine
His fame and honour by a warlike death,
Than by recanting to reprieve his breath,
And live dishonour'd to his utter shame.
Lucenda thus a widow did remaine,
And I victorious: then th'assembly gone,
With speed I hasted to my private home;
Where while I lay with wholesome meanes to cure
Those smarting wounds, the which I did endure,
I was advertis'd that Lucenda, she
Bewaild the losse she had obtain'd by me:
And with great sorrow moan'd the timelesse death
Of her slaine husband, whose perfidious breath
I had exhal'd; now that she might give o're
Her lamentations, and no more deplore
His deserv'd death, I did resolve to proffer
My service to her, and more-o're to offer
If't should be pleasing to her, to supply
The place of Yerso with more constancy,
And be her Husband, she my honour'd wife,
Who I would cherish rather than my life.
| A Small Treatise betwixt Arnalte and Lucenda Entituled The Evill-intreated Lover, Or The Melancholy Knight | |