_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.