_Amar_. Still think'st thou such a thing as Chastitie Is amongst Women? _Perigot_ there's none, That with her Love is in a Wood alone, And would come home a maid; be not abus'd With thy fond first Belief, let time be us'd: Why dost thou rise? _Per_. My true heart thou hast slain. _Ama_. Faith _Perigot_, I'll pluck thee down again. _Per_. Let go, thou Serpent, that into my brest Hast with thy cunning div'd; art not in Jest? _Ama_. Sweet love, lye down. _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.