_Lew._ What is it _Sylvia?_
_Syl_. What i'st? A noble Husband; In that word, a
Noble Husband, all content of Woman
Is wholly comprehended; He will rowse her,
As you say, with the Sunne, and so pipe to her,
As she will dance, ne're doubt it, and hunt with her,
Upon occasion, untill both be weary;
And then the knowledge of your Plants and Simples,
As I take it, were superfluous; A loving,
And but adde to it a gamesome Bedfellow,
Being the sure Physician. _Lew_. Well said Wench.
_Ang_. And who gave you Commission to deliver
Your verdict, Minion? _Syl_. I deserve a fee,
And not a frown, deare Madam; I but speak
Her thoughts, my Lord, and what her modesty
Refuses to give voyce to; shew no mercy
To a Maidenhead of fourteene, but off with't:
Let her lose no time Sir; fathers that deny
Their Daughters lawfull pleasure, when ripe for them,
In some kinds edge their appetites to tast of
The fruit that is forbidden. _Lew_. Tis well urg'd,
And I approve it; no more blushing Girle,
Thy woman hath spoke truth, and so prevented
What I meant to move to thee: There dwells neere us
A Gentleman of blood, Mounsieur _Brisac_,
Of a faire state, sixe thousand Crowns _per annum_,
The happy Father of two hopefull Sons,
Of different breeding; Th' elder, a meere Scholar,
The younger, a quaint Courtier. _Ang_. Sir, I know them
By publique 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.
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