_Lew_. 'Tis well urg'd, and I approve it: No more blushing, Girl, thy Woman hath spoke truth, and so prevented what I meant to move to thee. There dwells near us a Gentleman of bloud, Monsieur _Brisac_, of a fair Estate, six thousand Crowns _per annum_, the happy Father of two hopeful Sons, of different breeding; the Elder, a meer Scholar; the younger, a quaint Courtier. _Ang_. Sir, I know them by publick fame, though yet I never saw them; and that oppos'd antipathy between their various dispositions, renders them the general discourse and argument; one part inclining to the Scholar _Charles_, the other side preferring _Eustace_, as a man compleat in Courtship. _Lew_. And which way (if of these two you were to chuse a Husband) doth your affection sway you? _Ang_. To be plain Sir, (since you will teach me boldness) as they are simply themselves, to neither: let a Courtier be never so exact, let him be bless'd with all parts that yield him to a Virgin gracious; if he depend on others, and stand not on his own bottoms, though he have the means to bring his Mistris to a Masque, or by conveyance from some great ones lips, to taste such favour from the King: or grant he purchase precedency in the Court, to be sworn a servant Extraordinary to the Queen; nay, though he live in expectation of some huge preferment in reversion; if he want a present fortune, at the best those are but glorious dreams, and only yield him a happiness in _posse_, not in _esse_; nor can they fetch him Silks from the Mercer, nor discharge a Tailors Bill, nor in full plenty (which still preserves a quiet Bed at home) maintain a Family. _Lew_. Aptly consider'd, and to my wish: But what's thy censure of the Scholar? _Ang._ Troth (if he be nothing else) as of the Courtier, all his Songs and Sonnets, his Anagrams, Acrosticks, Epigrams, his deep and Philosophical Discourse of Nature's hidden Secrets, makes not up a perfect Husband; he can hardly borrow the Stars of the Celestial Crown to make me a Tire for my Head, nor _Charles's Wain_ for a Coach, nor _Ganymede_ for a Page, nor a rich Gown from _Juno's_ Wardrobe, nor would I lie in (for I despair not once to be a Mother) under Heaven's spangled Canopy, or Banquet my Guests and Gossips with imagin'd Nectar; pure _Orleans_ would do better: No, no, Father, though I could be well pleas'd to have my Husband a Courtier, and a Scholar, young, and valiant; these are but gawdy nothings, if there be not something to make a substance. _Lew._ And what is that? _Ang._ A full Estate, and that said, I've said all; and get me such a one with these Additions, farwel Virginity, and welcome Wedlock. _Lew._ But where is such a one to be met with, Daughter? A black Swan is more common; you may wear grey Tresses e're we find him. _Ang._ I am not so punctual in all Ceremonies, I will 'bate two or three of these good parts, before I'le dwell too long upon the choice.