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.
She having this her Letter finished,She gav't my sister, who with swift-wing'd speed
Made haste to finde me, being at that tide
Into my Closet for a while retir'd:
But when I saw her, I did by her gesture,
What she did speake; e're she it spoke conjecture.
Then drawing nigh me, she began to tell
I should not mourne, but my cares expell:
For she did bring me what Lucenda had
Concluded of them, thus bid me be glad.
Wherefore she 'gan for to recite at last,
What 'twixt Lucenda and her selfe had past;
And from her bosome she drew forth the Letter,
Which did reprieve my life, and made me debter
Still unto death; then holding't in my hand,
I did along while pausing with it stand.
Nor could I be perswaded it could be,
That such good hap should happen unto me.
Then kissing sweetely with a true respect
That blessed Paper, and the snow-white necke,
And Swan-like hands of my most dearest sister,
I broke it open having often kist her:
And then I read it, but who then had seene
Me, would have judg'd I had surprized beene
With sweete delight, and easily have sed
That pleasing pleasure had me ravished.
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More bright my fire, and I deem'd the same
Beyond esteeme, and with excesse of joy,
My soule was rapt in such an extasie,
That it well nigh my body did forsake,
For to give way that it more roome might make
For these new joyes, and to entertaine
Delight and pleasure in liew of my paine.
But having read it, and re-read it, I
Then found contentment and alacrity;
Not too predominate, for grim dispaire
As well as joy, claim'd an equall share:
For when I thought my drooping selfe to glad,
I lost my courage, for no hope I had.
And if I would lament, why the good will
Which she profest me, did oppose me still:
So what to doe, alas I could not tell,
My counsaile left me, doubt did with me dwell.
But 'cause my griefes were farre more vehement
Than all the joy, or the sweete content
Her Letter brought me, I did then indite
This answer to her, which I thus recite.
| A Small Treatise betwixt Arnalte and Lucenda Entituled The Evill-intreated Lover, Or The Melancholy Knight | |