Sull.  From thy forehead thus I take
These herbs, and charge thee not awake
Till in yonder holy Well,
Thrice with powerful Magick spell,
Fill’d with many a baleful word,
Thou hast been dipt; thus with my cord
Of blasted Hemp, by Moon-light twin’d,
I do thy sleepy body bind;
I turn thy head into the East,
And thy feet into the West,
Thy left arm to the South put forth,
And thy right unto the North: 
I take thy body from the ground,
In this deep and deadly swound,
And into this holy spring
I let thee slide down by my string. 
Take this Maid thou holy pit,
To thy bottom, nearer yet,
In thy water pure and sweet,
By thy leave I dip her feet;
Thus I let her lower yet,
That her ankles may be wet;
Yet down lower, let her knee
In thy waters washed be;
There stop:  Fly away
Every thing that loves the day. 
Truth that hath but one face,
Thus I charm thee from this place. 
Snakes that cast your coats for new,
Camelions that alter hue,
Hares that yearly Sexes change,
Proteus alt’ring oft and strange,
Hecate with shapes three,
Let this Maiden changed be,
With this holy water wet,
To the shape of Amoret: 
Cynthia work thou with my charm,
Thus I draw thee free from harm
Up out of this blessed Lake,
Rise both like her and awake. [She awakes.

Amar.  Speak Shepherd, am I Amoret to sight? 
Or hast thou mist in any Magick rite;
For want of which any defect in me,
May make our practices discovered be.

Sul.  By yonder Moon, but that I here do stand,
Whose breath hath thus transform’d thee, and whose hand
Let thee down dry, and pluckt thee up thus wet,
I should my self take thee for Amoret;
Thou art in cloths, in feature, voice and hew
So like, that sense cannot distinguish you.

Amar.  Then this deceit which cannot crossed be,
At once shall lose her him, and gain thee me. 
Hither she needs must come by promise made,
And sure his nature never was so bad,
To bid a Virgin meet him in the wood,
When night and fear are up, but understood,
’Twas his part to come first:  being come, I’le say,
My constant love made me come first and stay,
Then will I lead him further to the grove,
But stay you here, and if his own true love
Shall seek him here, set her in some wrong path,
Which say, her lover lately troden hath;
I’le not be far from hence, if need there be,
Here is another charm, whose power will free
The dazeled sense, read by the Moons beams clear,
And in my own true map make me appear.

Enter Perigot.

Sull.  Stand close, here’s Perigot, whose constant heart Longs to behold her in whose shape thou art.