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,
Alone, I might have forc'd her to have try'd
Who had been stronger: O vain Fool, to let
Such blest Occasion pass; I'll follow yet,
My Blood is up, I cannot now forbear.
Enter Alex, and Cloe.
I come sweet Amoret: Soft who is here?
A pair of Lovers? He shall yield her me;
"Now Lust is up, alike all Women be.
Alex. Where shall we rest? but for the love of me, Cloe, I know ere this would weary be.
Clo. Alexis, let us rest here, if the place
Be private, and out of the common trace
Of every Shepherd: for I understood
This Night a number are about the Wood:
Then let us chuse some place, where out of sight
We freely may enjoy our stoln delight.
Alex. Then boldly here, where we shall ne're be found,
No Shepherds way lies here, 'tis hallow'd ground:
No Maid seeks here her strayed Cow, or Sheep,
Fairies, and Fawns, and Satyrs do it keep:
Then carelesly rest here, and clip and kiss,
And let no fear make us our pleasures miss.
Clo. Then lye by me, the sooner we begin, The longer ere the day descry our sin.