Per.  This is the place (fair Amoret) the hour
Is yet scarce come:  Here every Sylvan power
Delights to be about yon sacred Well,
Which they have blest with many a powerful Spell;
For never Traveller in dead of Night,
Nor strayed Beasts have faln in, but when sight
Hath fail’d them, then their right way they have found
By help of them, so holy is the ground: 
But I will farther seek, lest Amoret
Should be first come, and so stray long unmet. 
My Amoret, Amoret. [Ex.  Amaryllis, Perigot.

Per.  My Love.

Amar.  I come my Love. [Exit.

Sull.  Now she has got
Her own desires, and I shall gainer be
Of my long lookt for hopes as well as she. 
How bright the moon shines here, as if she strove
To show her Glory in this little Grove,

Enter Amoret.

To some new loved Shepherd.  Yonder is
Another Amoret.  Where differs this
From that? but that she Perigot hath met,
I should have ta’n this for the counterfeit: 
Herbs, Woods, and Springs, the power that in you lies,
If mortal men could know your Properties!

Amo.  Methinks it is not Night, I have no fear,
Walking this Wood, of Lions, or the Bear,
Whose Names at other times have made me quake,
When any Shepherdess in her tale spake
Of some of them, that underneath a Wood
Have torn true Lovers that together stood. 
Methinks there are no Goblins, and mens talk,
That in these Woods the nimble Fairies walk,
Are fables; such a strong heart I have got,
Because I come to meet with Perigot. 
My Perigot! who’s that, my Perigot?

Sull.  Fair maid.

Amo.  Ay me, thou art not Perigot.

Sull.  But I can tell ye news of Perigot: 
An hour together under yonder tree
He sate with wreathed arms and call’d on thee,
And said, why Amoret stayest thou so long? 
Then starting up, down yonder path he flung,
Lest thou hadst miss’d thy way:  were it day light,
He could not yet have born him out of sight.

Amor.  Thanks, gentle Shepherd, and beshrew my stay,
That made me fearful I had lost my way: 
As fast as my weak Legs (that cannot be
Weary with seeking him) will carry me,
I’ll seek him out; and for thy Courtesie
Pray Pan thy Love may ever follow thee. [Exit.

Sull.  How bright she was, how lovely did she show! 
Was it not pity to deceive her so? 
She pluckt her Garments up, and tript away,
And with her Virgin-innocence did pray
For me that perjur’d her.  Whilst she was here,
Methought the Beams of Light that did appear
Were shot from her; methought the Moon gave none,
But what it had from her:  she was alone