The next play (leaves 136-160) is entitled The fatal Maryage, or a second Lucreatya. Galeas, on returning from the wars, crowned with praises, is requested by his widowed mother to make a journey into the province of Parma to receive moneys owed by Signor Jouanny.  On his arrival he falls in love with Jouanny’s daughter, Lucretia, runs away with her, and secretly marries her. Galeas’ mother, angered at the match, practises to convey Lucretia to a nunnery and get her son married to an earl’s daughter; but Galeas defeats his mother’s machinations by killing himself and Lucretia.  There is a second plot to this odd play, but enough has been said.  The meeting between Galeas and Jouanny is the best thing in the play:—­

        Enter Galeas & Jacomo.

    Ga.  You spake with him as I comanded you?

    Jac.  And had his promise to meet you presently.

Ga.  I have heard much fame of him since my arrive, His generall nature, hospitable love; His [He’s?] good to all men, enemy to none.  Indeed he has that perfect character Before I see him I’m in love with him.

    Jac.  Hee has the fame few Cittizens deserve.

    Ga.  Why, sir, few Cittizens?

Jac.  His words his bond, and 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?