does not break that bond
To bankrupt others; he makes you not a library
Of large monopolie to cosen all men:
_Subintelligitur_, he hates to deale
With such portentious othes as furr his mouth
In the deliverance.

_Enter Jouanny_.

_Ga_. Hee comes himselfe.

_Jou_. Sir _Galeas_, if I mistake not?

_Ga_. I weare my fathers name, sir.

_Jou_. And tis a dignity to weare that name.
Whatts your affairs in _Parma_?

_Ga_. To visit you, sir.

_Jou_. Gladness nor sorrow never paid mans debts.
--Your pleasure, sir?

_Ga_. The livery of my griefe: my fathers dead
And mee hath made his poore executor.

_Jou_. What? ought hee ten thousand duckets?
Thy fathers face fixt in thy front
Should be the paymaster tho from my hand.

_Ga_. I doe not come to borrow: please yee read.

_Jou_. Read? and with good regard, for sorrow paies noe debts.

_Ga_. The summes soe great I feare, once read by him,
My seeming frend will prove my enemy.

_Jac_. Faith, if he doe, hee proves like your French
galloshes that promise faire to the feet, yet twice a day
leave a man in the durt.

_Jou_. Was this your fathers pleasure?

_Ga_. It was his hand.

_Jou_. It was his writing, I know it as my owne,
Wherein hee has wronged mee beyond measure?

_Ga_. How? my father wrongd yee? I'm his sonn.

_Jou_. Wert thou his father I'm wrongd,--
Iniurd, calumniated, baffled to my teeth;
And were it not that these gray haires of mine
Were priviledgd ane enemy to vallour,
I have a heart could see your fathers wrong--

_Ga_. What? raile you, sir?

_Jac_. Challenge a half pint pot.

_Jou_. There in a sawpitt, knave, to quitt my self
Of such an inury.--Hee writes mee here
That I should pay to you tenn thousand crownes.

_Ga_. As being due to him.

_Jou_. But thatts not my quarrell, sir; for I did owe to him
Millions of Crownes, millions of my love;--
And but to send a note here for his owne!
Ist not a quarrell for an honest man?

_Jac_. With very few, I thinke.

_Jou_. Why, looke yee, sir:
When after many a storme and dreadfull blow
Strooke from fire-belching clouds, bankrupt of life
I have home return'd; when all my frends denide
Their thresholds to mee, and my creditors
Desir'd to sinke mee in a prisoners grave,
Hee gav