Ama. Thou dost not love me Perigot.
Per. Fair maid, You only love to hear it often said; You do not doubt.
Amar. Believe me but I do.
Per. What shall we now begin again to woo? 'Tis the best way to make your Lover last, To play with him, when you have caught him fast.
Amar. By Pan I swear, I loved Perigot, And by yon Moon, I think thou lov'st me not.
Per. By Pan I swear, and if I falsely swear,
Let him not guard my flocks, let Foxes tear
My earliest Lambs, and Wolves whilst I do sleep
Fall on the rest, a Rot among my Sheep.
I love thee better than the careful Ewe
The new-yean'd Lamb that is of her own hew;
I dote upon thee more than the young Lamb
Doth on the bag that feeds him from his Dam.
Were there a sort of Wolves got in my Fold,
And one ran after thee, both young and old
Should be devour'd, and it should be my strife
To save thee, whom I love above my life.
Ama. How shall I trust thee when I see thee chuse Another Bed, and dost my side refuse?
Per. 'Twas only that the chast thoughts might be shewn 'Twixt thee and me, although we were alone.
Ama. Come, Perigot will shew his power, that he
Can make his Amoret, though she weary be,
Rise nimbly from her Couch, and come to his.
Here take thy Amoret, embrace and kiss.
Per. What means my Love?