Per.  Since this I live to see, Some bitter North-wind blast my flocks and me.

Ama.  You swore you lov’d, yet will not do my will.

Per.  O be as thou wert once, I’ll love thee still.

Ama.  I am, as still I was, and all my kind, Though other shows we have poor men to blind.

Per.  Then here I end all Love, and lest my vain Belief should ever draw me in again, Before thy face that hast my Youth misled, I end my life, my blood be on thy head.

Ama. O hold thy hands, thy Amoret doth cry.

Per. Thou counsel’st well, first Amoret shall dye, That is the cause of my eternal smart. [He runs after her.

Ama. O hold.

Per. This steel shall pierce thy lustful heart.

[The Sullen Shepherd steps out and uncharms her.

Sull. Up and down every where,
I strew the herbs to purge the air: 
Let your Odour drive hence
All mists that dazel sence. 
Herbs and Springs whose hidden might
Alters Shapes, and mocks the sight,
Thus I charge you to undo
All before I brought ye to: 
Let her flye, let her ’scape,
Give again her own shape.

Enter Amaryllis in her own shape.

Amar. Forbear thou gentle Swain, thou dost mistake,
She whom thou follow’dst fled into the brake,
And as I crost thy way, I met thy wrath,
The only fear of which near slain me hath.

Per. Pardon fair Shepherdess, my rage and night
Were both upon me, and beguil’d my sight;
But far be it from me to spill the blood
Of harmless Maids that wander in the Wood. [Ex. Ama.

Enter Amoret.

Amor. Many a weary step in yonder path
Poor hopeless Amoret twice trodden hath
To seek her Perigot, yet cannot hear
His Voice; my Perigot, she loves thee dear
That calls.

Per. See yonder where she is, how fair She shows, and yet her breath infefts the air.

Amo. My Perigot.

Per. Here.

Amo. Happy.

Per. Hapless first:  It lights on thee, the next blow is the worst.

Amo. Stay Perigot, my love, thou art unjust.

Peri. Death is the best reward that’s due to lust. [Exit Perigot.

Sul. Now shall their love be crost, for being struck,
I’le throw her in the Fount, lest being took
By some night-travaller, whose honest care
May help to cure her.  Shepherdess prepare
Your self to die.

Amo. No Mercy I do crave,
Thou canst not give a worse blow than I have;
Tell him that gave me this, who lov’d him too,
He struck my soul, and not my body through,
Tell him when I am dead, my soul shall be
At peace, if he but think he injur’d me.