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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Lucenda to Belisa. |
 | A Small Treatise betwixt Arnalte and Lucenda Entituled The Evill-intreated Lover, Or The Melancholy Knight |  |
Lucenda to Belisa.
Drye up thy teares Belisa, weepe no more,Asswage thy passions, and thy grieve give o're,
For from this day I will conformed be
Vnto your will, and grant what you decree.
Now would to God that I had not a tongue,
Then with my words myselfe I should not wrong:
And although the fault already is transgrest,
Too credulous, my selfe I have exprest.
Yet could I not withstand it, since thou wilt
Take to thy selfe the blame of all my guilt;
Thy selfe oblieging for to set me free,
Clad in white robes of pure innocency.
Oh doe not bragging boast, or boasting vaunt
Of what thy treaties have inforc't me grant:
The trickling teares which from thy eyes did run,
Like armed troopes, my will have overcome:
Yet notwithstanding I delight doe take
In my displeasure, since it recreates
Thy pensive thoughts, and my affection's such,
That ought for thee I cannot thinke too much:
For if my losse thy gaine may prove to be,
I doe desire to suffer it for thee;
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As to obtaine it, you have treaties mov'd
Not presently to vilifie; neglect
The prize obtained with base disrespect:
For 'tis a rule well knowne in generall,
Most common too, and kindly unto all;
That things not purchac'd we doe highly prize,
But once obtain'd we doe them then dispise.
Remember well, that from this present tide,
You reduable are to me oblieg'd.
The longest day you live doe not forget
The recompence to countervaile this debt.
Consider how at this same present time
My honours thred I doe untwist, untwine:
Yet since I have my selfe thus hazarded
To write unto him, I will have no dread,
With this proviso, that my Letter give
Peace to his warre, quietly cause him live.
Oh would to God 'thad beene his sacred will,
That at that time when I my heart did fill
With the sad thought of this determination,
(Imbracing sorrow with deliberation)
That then the earth had gap'd, and swallow'd me
Vp in her bowells of obscurity;
For then had I beene eas'd by pale-fac'd death
Of that which now will last whilst I have breath:
My soule must suffer't, since commiseration
Hath enterpriz'd against its selfe this action.
And though Belisa I doe now repent
Me of these things to which I doe consent,
Yet have I not the power to revoke
What I doe grant, because I would provoke
Some joy to thee, also t'intermixe
Mirth with the sorrow, in thy true heart fixt.
Therefore will I give way that thy request
Shall take possession of my pensive breast:
And to the end that thou maist have a sight
Of my pen'd-missive, Ile begin to write.
| A Small Treatise betwixt Arnalte and Lucenda Entituled The Evill-intreated Lover, Or The Melancholy Knight | |