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.

_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