_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 gave mee dying life, his helpefull hand Sent mee to sea and kept mee safe on land. Ist not a quarrell then to seeke butts owne? _Ga_. Oh, pray, sir-- _Jou_. When all the talents of oppression Of usurers, lawyers and my creditors Had fangd upon my wife and family, Hee gave mee dying life, his helpfull hand Sent mee to sea and kept mee safe on land. Ist not a quarrell then to seeke but's owne? _Ga_. Good sir-- _Jou_. Come in, sir, where I will pay all that you can demand: Noe other quarrell, sir, shall passe your hand. _Ga_. If every [one] should pay as well as you The world were good, wee should have bankrupts few. _Jac_. I'm of your mind for that. [_Exeunt_.