_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.

_Sul._ In this Fount be thy grave, thou wert not meant
Sure for a woman, thou art so innocent. [_flings her into the well_
She cannot scape, for underneath the ground,
In a long hollow the clear spring is bound,
Till on yon side where the Morns Sun doth look,
The strugling water breaks out in a Brook. [_Exit._

[_The God of the River riseth with_ Amoret _in his arms._