_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
With me, if then her presence did so move,
Why did not I essay to win her Love?
She would not sure have yielded unto me;
Women love only Opportunitie,
And not the Man; or if she had deny'd,