Act V., 3. The trial scene (Act III, 3), though on slighter lines than he
uses as a rule, may be due to him.
19. _The Fair Maid of the Inn._ (Massinger and Fletcher.)
M.: Act I.; Act III., 2; Act V., 3.
A. H. B. attributes to Rowley and Massinger, and thinks Fletcher’s share very small.
Macaulay assigns to “Massinger and another (not Fletcher).”
A. H. C.: Massinger wrote Act I., Act V., 3 as far as Clarissa’s speech. Fletcher wrote Act II., Act III., Act IV., Act V., 1, 2. The mother’s device to save her son is the sort of improbability from which Fletcher does not shrink.
20. _A Very Woman._ (Massinger and Fletcher.)
M.: Act I.; Act II., 1, 2, 3 down to “Enter Pedro”; Act IV., 1, 3.
A. H. B. identifies this play with _The Woman’s Plot_, acted at Court in 1621. In its present state it is a version of a play by Fletcher, revised for a revival by Massinger in 1634.
Macaulay assigns Act III. and Act IV., 1, 2, 3 to Fletcher. For a discussion of this play _cf._ pp. 129-131.
21. _The Second Maiden’s Tragedy._ (Massinger, Tourneur.)
M.: Act I., Act II.
In _Eng. Stud._, ix. 234, Boyle, with some hesitation, regards this play as “an early, anonymous, and unsuccessful attempt of Massinger’s.” Whoever wrote it, the work is immature.
A. H. C. I find no trace of Massinger in this play, but a great deal of Tourneur’s manner. _Cf._ Appendix XIII.
22. _Love’s Cure._ (Massinger and (?) Middleton.)
M.: Act I.; Act IV.; Act V., 1, 2.
A. H. B. agrees that the play is due to Massinger and Middleton.
Fleay thinks that Massinger altered a play by Beaumont and Fletcher.
A. H. C.: It is to be noted that the Prologue expressly attributes the play to Beaumont and Fletcher. I find nothing like Massinger except a few touches in Act I., 1 and 3. The lightheartedness of the play reminds us alike of Fletcher and Middleton; the romantic atmosphere reminds us of the former, the inferiority of the metre of the latter.
23. _The Fatal Dowry._ (Massinger and Field.)
M.: Act I.; Act III. (to “Enter Novall junior”); Act IV., 2, 3, 4; Act V., 1, 2.
For further discussion _cf._ Appendix XI.
24. _The Virgin Martyr._ (Massinger and Dekker.)
M.: Act I.; Act III., 1, 2; Act IV., 3; Act V., 2.
For a discussion of this verdict _cf._ Appendix X.
25. _The Old Law._ (Massinger, Middleton, Rowley.)
Massinger’s share was slight, and can only have consisted in revision for a later performance. _Cf._ supra, pp. 141-2.
OTHER PLAYS ATTRIBUTED IN PART TO MASSINGER.
26. _The Laws of Candy._
A. H. B. thinks a large part was written by Massinger, and that Fletcher cannot be traced.
Boyle (_Eng. Stud._, vii. 75) thinks that though the metrical treatment is like Beaumont’s, the play is evidently later in date, perhaps due to Shirley. Fleay (_Eng. Stud._, ix. 23) assigns it to Massinger and Field.
Macaulay says “probably by Massinger and another author (not Fletcher).”
A. H. C.: I find no trace here of the Massinger that we know.
27. _The Captain._
Macaulay: “By Fletcher and another, perhaps Massinger.”
A. H. C.: This is one of the many plays in the Fletcher corpus which begins admirably and falls away into improbability. I find no trace of Massinger here, though the incident in Act IV., 5 reminds one of the banquet in _The Guardian_, Act III., 6.
28. _The Cure for a Cuckold_, “a pleasant comedy written by John Webster and William Rowley; London, 1661.”
It has been supposed by Fleay that the first act is due to Massinger. It must be pointed out that a large part of the play is written in prose, and that the verse parts are not like Massinger. If one or two phrases remind us of his style the stage is too crowded to make it likely that it is his design. The real reason, no doubt, for the assumption is that the incident of Clare and Lessingham is similar to one in _The Parliament of Love_. Clare sends a letter to Lessingham in which she tells him she will marry him if he will kill his dearest friend.
Prove all thy friends, find out the best and nearest, Kill for my sake that friend that loves thee dearest.
But even so the incident is worked out with much variety in detail.
Mr. Rupert Brooke in his _Study on Webster_ (Appendix J) arrives at the conclusion that Webster’s play is subsequent to Massinger’s, both of them bearing a general resemblance to Marston’s _Dutch Courtesan_. The stinging and incisive vigour of Marston’s play is a great contrast to the romantic treatment of the subject in _The Parliament of Love_.
29. _The Island Princess._
This is rather a dull play, though it contains some fine passages and isolated lines. It is well constructed, and contains one or two touches, such as “I love a soldier” (I., 2) and “something shall be thought on” (II., 7), which recall Massinger. And compare “When the streams flow clear and fair, what are the fountains?” (V., 2) with _The Bondman_, I., 3, 282. The King in gaol reminds us of _Believe as You List_; the attempt of the Queen Quisara to convert Armusia to her faith reminds us of _The Renegado_. On the other hand, the metre is singularly like Fletcher’s throughout; the diction in many details is unlike Massinger, and there are no parentheses. Perhaps Fletcher was helped in this play by some young man such as Brome who was acquainted with Massinger’s style.
30. _The Double Falsehood, or The Distressed Lovers._
This play scarcely deserves serious consideration. _Cf._ Appendix XV.
It will at once be seen how precarious and subjective is much of this attribution. For example, to trace four styles in a play is a difficult feat, yet Boyle does this in (2) and (3). Brander Matthews, in discussing the relation of Massinger and Fletcher, has some interesting remarks, illustrated by modern parallels. He points out that collaboration may be either a chemical union or a mechanical mixture of the authors’ qualities, so that it is hard to decide which process has taken place in a particular play. These considerations lead him to doubt the finality of Boyle’s distribution of scenes.
Boyle’s strong points are his argument from metrical details and his intimate knowledge of the texts. I feel, however, that the metrical test is open to the charge of being mechanical when weighed against the impressions which we gain from the evidence of construction, style, and expressions. Massinger constructed his plays well, and modelled his characters carefully, whereas Fletcher, while excelling in isolated scenes, shrank from no improbability which might be necessary to carry the plot through. I am more conservative, therefore, than Professor Gayley, who says that “in _The Spanish Curate_, _The Little French Lawyer_, _The Prophetess_, and _The Beggars’ Bush_ Massinger’s contribution was fully as important as Fletcher’s. The general design appears to be the work of the former. Fletcher fills in the details of comic business”;(535) and that “he has no doubt about Massinger’s part in _The Knight of Malta_, _The Lover’s Progress_, and _The Elder Brother_.”(536)
Next, with regard to style and expression, when we remember the intimacy of the two men, it is quite possible that Massinger imitated Fletcher consciously or unconsciously at some time of his life, and _vice versa_. Or we may put it in this way: there was a certain amount of conventional stock-in-trade common to the two writers, such a phrase, for instance, as, “To the temple” when the inevitable marriage ceremony is to take place. It would be absurd to suppose that Fletcher never used such a phrase as “write nil ultra,” which is no doubt a distinguishing mark of Massinger’s style. Again, Fletcher may have worked over drafts of scenes in the first instance written by Massinger, and there is evidence for supposing that in many cases revision for a revival rather than co-operation is the clue. Massinger’s good judgment would make him an excellent reviser.
It must, however, be allowed that the large amount of agreement between two experts such as Boyle and Bullen is remarkable. We cannot acquit those who produced the Folio of Beaumont and Fletcher in 1647 of negligence in omitting to give their due to Massinger and other collaborators. On the other hand, it might be argued that if Massinger’s share in Fletcher’s plays were as large as Boyle believes it to have been, the Folio would for very shame have acknowledged it; and it must be pointed out that the large mass of commendatory verses prefixed to the Folio entertains no doubt of the traditional authorship.(537)
Believing that the matter of first importance is to estimate Massinger from the plays which he undoubtedly wrote, I have not given above my evidence in full for the impressions which I have formed of the “collaborated” plays. The results of my study of these plays may be summarised as follows: Massinger wrote considerable portions of _The Prophetess_, _The False One_, and _Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_. His work can be traced in _Thierry and Theodoret_ and _The Bloody Brother_. He wrote the greater part of Acts I. and V. of _The Queen of Corinth_, and of Acts I. and V. of _The Elder Brother_. He wrote much of the same acts in _The Little French Lawyer_, _The Spanish Curate_, _The Fair Maid of the Inn_. He may have assisted in _The Knight of Malta_. He revised for subsequent performance _The Custom of the Country_ and _The Lover’s Progress_. He had nothing to do with _The Honest Man’s Fortune_, _The Sea Voyage_, _The Double Marriage_, _The Beggars’ Bush_, _Love’s Cure_, _The Laws of Candy_, _The Captain_, _The Cure for a Cuckold_, _The Island Princess_. In my opinion, Massinger’s hand can be most clearly discerned in (1) serious plays; (2) the serious parts of plays; (3) the first and last acts of a joint composition.(538)
APPENDIX IV. ON THE INFLUENCE OF SHAKSPERE
The instances quoted in the text can be supplemented by many others. Compare the diction and thought of the following passages:
_Maid of Honour_, IV., 3, 61:
Ministers of mercy, Mock not calamity.
_Hamlet_, I., 4, 39:
Angels and ministers of grace defend us!
_Maid of Honour_, V., 1, 133:
And I to make all know I am not shallow, Will have my points of cochineal and yellow.
_Twelfth Night_, II., 5, 169:
Remember who commended thy yellow stockings.
_Virgin Martyr_, I., 1, 177:
All kind of tortures; part of which they suffer’d With Roman constancy.
_Julius Cæsar_, II., 1, 226:
Let not our looks put on our purposes, But bear it as our Roman actors do, With untired spirits and formal constancy.
(_Cf._ _Duke of Milan_, V., 1, 128.)
_Parliament of Love_, II., 2, 37:
Yet since thou art So spaniel-like affected.
_Midsummer-Night’s Dream_, II., 1, 205:
Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me.
_Two Gentlemen of Verona_, IV., 2, 14:
Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love, The more it grows and fawneth on her still.
_Emperor of the East_, IV., 5, 105:
Methinks I find Paulinus on her lips.
_Othello_, III., 3, 341:
I found not Cassio’s kisses on her lips.
_Emperor of the East_, V., 2, 103:
Can I call back yesterday, with all their aids That bow unto my sceptre? or restore My mind to that tranquillity and peace It then enjoyed?
_Othello_, III., 3, 330:
Not poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou owedst yesterday.
_Othello_, III., 3, 347:
O, now for ever Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!
_Virgin Martyr_, I., 1, 342:
An humble modesty, that would not match A molehill with Olympus.
_Great Duke of Florence_, IV., 2, 305:
As the lowly shrub is to the lofty cedar, Or a molehill to Olympus, if compar’d, I am to you, Sir.
_Roman Actor_, III., 1, 3:
If you but compare What I have suffered with your injuries (Though great ones, I confess), they will appear Like molehills to Olympus.
(_Cf._ also _Duke of Milan_, I., 3, 193.)(539)
_Coriolanus_, V., 3, 29:
My mother bows; As if Olympus to a molehill should In supplication nod.
_Duke of Milan_, III., 1, 204:
Thou didst not borrow of Vice her indirect, Crooked, and abject means.
_2 Henry IV_, IV., 5, 184:
God knows, my son, By what by-paths and indirect crook’d ways I met this crown.(540)
_Great Duke of Florence_, II., 2, 12:
Yes, and drink more in two hours Than the Dutchman or the Dane in four and twenty.
_Hamlet_, I., 4, 18:
This heavy-headed revel east and west Makes us traduced and tax’d of other nations. They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase Soil our addition.
(_Cf._ also _Othello_, II., 3, 78-87.)
_Parliament of Love_, IV., 5, 137:
Now, as a schoolboy, Does kiss the rod that gave him chastisement.
_Richard II_, V., 1, 31:
And wilt thou, pupil-like, Take thy correction mildly, kiss the rod?
_Two Gentlemen of Verona_, I., 2, 58:
That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse, And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod.
_Unnatural Combat_, IV., 2, 6:
Let his passion work, and like a hot-reined horse ’Twill quickly tire itself.
_Henry VIII_, I., 1, 132-4:
Anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allow’d his way Self-mettle tires him.
_Emperor of the East_, III., 1, 2:
A sudden fever Kept me at home.
_Henry VIII_, I., 1, 5:
An untimely ague Stay’d me a prisoner in my chamber.
_A Very Woman_, II., 1, 20:
The furnace of your father’s anger.
_Bondman_, III., 3, 170:
Or yield up Our bodies to the furnace of their fury, Thrice heated with revenge.
_Henry VIII_, I., 1, 140:
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot That it do singe yourself.
_Virgin Martyr_, V., 2, 158:
And now, in the evening, When thou should’st pass with honour to thy rest, Wilt thou fall like a meteor?
_Henry VIII_, III., 2, 226:
I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.
_Guardian_, V., 4, 115:
In this casket are Inestimable jewels.
_Richard III_, I., 4, 27:
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels.
_Picture_, I., 2, 17:
Since this bubble honour (Which is indeed the nothing soldiers fight for) With the loss of limbs or life, is in my judgment Too dear a purchase.
_As You Like It_, II., 7, 152:
Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon’s mouth.
_Picture_, II., 2, 136:
It continuing doubtful Upon whose tents plum’d victory would take Her glorious stand.
_Othello_, III., 3, 349:
Farewell the plumèd troops, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue!
_Virgin Martyr_, V., 2, 82:
There is a scene that I must act alone.
_Romeo and Juliet_, IV., 3, 19:
My dismal scene I needs must act alone.
_Great Duke of Florence_, III., 1, 57:
What you deliver to me shall be lock’d up In a strong cabinet, of which you yourself Shall keep the key.
_Hamlet_, I., 3, 85.
’Tis in my memory locked, And you yourself shall keep the key of it.
_Believe as You List_, I., 2, 18:
When he smiles, let such Beware as have to do with him, for then, Sans doubt, he’s bent on mischief.
_Hamlet_, I., 5, 107:
Meet it is I set it down, That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain.
_Old Law_, IV., 1, 36:
Besides, there will be charges saved too; the same rosemary that serves for the funeral will serve for the wedding.(541)
_Hamlet_, I., 2, 180:
Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
_Parliament of Love_, III., 3, 133:
A hurtful vow Is in the breach of it better commended, Than in the keeping.
_Hamlet_, I., 4, 15:
It is a custom More honour’d in the breach than the observance.
_Guardian_, V., 1, 44:
These woods, Severino, Shall more than seem to me a populous city.
_Othello_, I., 1, 77:
The fire is spied In populous cities.
(_Cf._ also IV., 1, 64.)
We may infer that Massinger studied the Folio of 1623 carefully.
APPENDIX V. WARBURTON’S LIST
(_Lansdowne MSS., B. M., 807._)
This volume contains three plays, the only survivors of Warburton’s collection: _The Queen of Corsica_, by Fran. Jaques, _The Second Maiden’s Tragedy_, and _The Bugbears_, together with a fragment of a fourth, R. Wild’s _Benefice_.
On the back of the first leaf of this volume is attached the list of Warburton’s collection, in his own hand. The entries referring to Massinger are as follows: I preserve the spelling.
_Minerva’s Sacrifice._ Phill. Masenger. _The Forc’d Lady a T._ Phill. Massinger. _Antonio & Vallia_, by Phill. Massinger. _The Woman’s Plott._ Phill. Massinger. _The Tyrant_, a tragedy, by Phill. Massenger. _Philenzo and Hipolito_, a C. by Phill. Massenger. _The Judge_, a C. by Phill. Massenger. _Fast and Welcome_, by Phill. Massinger. _Believe as You List_, C. by Phill. Massinger. _The Honour of Women_, a C. by P. Massinger. _Alexius or the Chaste Gallant_, T. P. Massinger. _The Noble Choise_, T.C. P. Massinger.
_The Parliament of Love_ is attributed to Wm. Rowley. The versification of the play which we have under that name is far above Rowley’s powers, nor are there signs of collaboration in the play, as far as we can tell.
The list has been carefully discussed by Mr. W. W. Greg in his article, “The Bakings of Betsy,” in _The Library_ (July, 1911).
He puts the matter thus: Warburton enters _Minerva’s Sacrifice_ and _The Forc’d Lady_ as above. In the _Stationers’ Register_, Sept. 9, 1653, these titles are given as alternatives for the same play. This might mean that Moseley was trying to smuggle through two plays for a single fee. Mr. Greg is inclined to give Moseley the benefit of the doubt, and to suppose that there were plays existing in divergent versions, which would justify the double titles. If, however, Moseley was honest, Warburton cannot be correct. Mr. Greg suggests that Warburton, being interested in old plays, and having access to the _Stationers’ Register_, drew up for his own use a list, mainly based on Moseley’s entries, containing the titles of such pieces as he thought it might be possible to recover, and added the names of those in his possession. The cook destroyed some of the plays, and Warburton, discovering his loss, added the famous memorandum to the text without remembering that it contained the names of plays which he did not possess. In this case the damage done by “Betsy” would not be so extensive as has been believed.
APPENDIX VI. A METRICAL PECULIARITY IN MASSINGER
Our dramatic writers must have often felt that their metre required variety to relieve it from the dangers of facility and monotony. No doubt the same problem suggested itself to Homer and the Greek dramatists. In the former, the frequent pauses after the first foot or in the middle of the second foot, in the latter, the much-discussed pauses after the first foot, are as likely to be due to a desire for variety as to any special emphasis on the particular words thus singled out.(542)
In what ways did the Elizabethans secure variety?(543)
1. By the use of rhyme. This was the early solution. Massinger does not often resort to rhyme, though in some of his plays, notably in _The Roman Actor_, he several times employs the well-known couplet at the end of a scene.
2. By the free use of the eleven-syllable line. This was Fletcher’s solution. It is astonishing how the pleasure which the occasional use of this licence gives us turns to a feeling of satiety and weakness when it is too freely employed, so that many passages in Fletcher sound like a horse with a fit of roaring.
3. In the free use of trisyllabic feet. This fact has been recently brought before the public by Mr. Bayfield in connexion with Shakspere. There is no need to quote instances of this common and easy expedient.
4. By the occasional use of short lines. As has been pointed out above,(544) Massinger is a strict metrist, and does not often resort to this liberty, even in rapid conversation.
5. By skilful variation of pauses, such as we find in Milton, Tennyson, and most of our modern writers of blank verse. Massinger’s flexible and meandering sentences contain many examples of such variation.
I believe that he had another shaft in his quiver. He occasionally suppressed a short syllable at the close of the line, and more rarely in the early part, with the result that an anapaestic lilt of some effectiveness makes its appearance. An example from _The Emperor of the East_ will make this clear.
PULCHERIA. What ís thy náme?
ATHENAIS. The forlorn Áthenáis (I., 1, 342).
If the stresses are placed as above, it is clear that there is a syllable suppressed after the word “forlorn,” a three-syllable foot in the third place, and an anapaestic lilt, “the forlorn.”
Nor is Massinger alone in this device; instances from other poets are quoted below. This theory conflicts with the dictum of Schmidt in his Shaksperian lexicon, that words like “forlorn,” “complete,” “supreme,” “conceal’d,” can be stressed either on the first or second syllable, the stress being on the first syllable when the stress in the following word falls on the first syllable. Presumably Schmidt would have scanned the line in question thus:
What ís thy náme? The fórlorn Áthenáis.
Schmidt’s dictum, however, will not explain all the cases quoted below, and it is worth considering whether it is not a simpler solution of the problem to suppose that our Elizabethan poets combined uniformity of accent with variety in the metre, sometimes applied more than once in the same line. It is clear that lines which contain a past participle like “condemned” cannot be used for the purposes of this argument, as such words may have been scanned as two syllables or three.
The following cases will support my suggestion. The list does not profess to be a complete summary of the evidence.
1. _The Emperor of the East_, III., 4, 139:
To búild me úp a compléte^prínce, ’tis gránted.
2. _The Duke of Milan_, III., 1, 32:
Mónkeys and páraquíttos consúme^thóusands.
(Here the first foot is a trochee. _Cf._ _infra_, Nos. 6, 8, 20, 21, 36, 43, 48.)
3. _The Bondman_, I., 1, 65:
Of stránge and resérved párts; but a gréat^sóldier.
4. _The Bondman_, II., 1, 143:
Which súllied wíth the tóuch of impúre^hánds.
5. _The Bondman_, III., 3, 89:
Were thís sad spéctaclé for secúre^gréatness.
6. _The Bondman_, IV., 3, 192:
Máde for your sátisfáction, the póor^wrétch.
7. _The Bondman_, V., 2, 20:
All éngines tó assáult him. Indéed^vírtue.
8. _The Renegado_, I., 1, 81:
Ín a relígious schóol, where divíne^máxims.
9. _The Renegado_, I., 3, 152:
Have cálled your ánger ón, in a frówn^shów it.
10. _The Renegado_, II., 4, 58:
Displéasures agaínst^thóse, withóut whose mércy.
11. _The Renegado_, III., 2, 36:
I é’er had íreful fiérceness, a stéel’d^héart.
12. _The Renegado_, IV., 3, 79:
Forsáke a sevére,^náy, impérious místress.
13. _The Renegado_, V., 1, 7:
That wíll for éver árm me agaínst^féars.
14. _The Great Duke of Florence_, I., 1, 127:
And íf my grácious úncle, the gréat^dúke.
15. _The Great Duke of Florence_, I., 2, 29:
To thínk her wórthy of yóu, besídes^chíldren.
16. _The Great Duke of Florence_, II., 1, 133:
And máke a pláin discóvery. The dúke’s^cáre.
17. _The Great Duke of Florence_, II., 3, 66:
The swéetness óf her bréath. Such a bráve^státure.
18. _The Great Duke of Florence_, III., 1, 66:
On whát desígn, or whíther, the dúke’s^wíll.
19. _The Great Duke of Florence_, IV., 1, 102:
And píety bé forgótten. The dúke’s^lúst.
20. _The Great Duke of Florence_, V., 2, 3:
Ín the great státes it cóvers. The dúke’s^pléasure.
21. _The Great Duke of Florence_, V., 3, 127:
Équal offénders, whát we shall spéak^poínts.
22. _The City Madam_, III., 3, 78:
Relígious chárity; to sénd^ínfidéls.
23. _The Bashful Lover_, III., 3, 90:
And sénsual báseness; íf thy profáne^hánd.
24. _The Bashful Lover_, IV., 2, 60:
’Tis ímpióus in mán to prescríbe^límits.
25. _The Bashful Lover_, V., 3, 179:
There’s nó conténding agáinst^déstiný.
26. _A Very Woman_, II., 3, 42:
Not fár off dístant, appéars^dím with énvy.
27. _The Unnatural Combat_, IV., 1, 35:
Yet wáking, I’ ne’er chérished obscéne^hópes.
28. _Believe as You List_, I., 1, 144:
And secúre^gréatness wíth the trúe relátion.
29. _Believe as You List_, I., 2, 10:
A póint of jústice, his wórds^fúll in méasure.
30. _Believe as You List_, II., 2, 265:
Undergó the sáme^púnishmént which óthers.
31. _The Guardian_, I., 1, 285:
This profáne^lánguage. Práy you, bé a mán.
32. _The Guardian_, I., 2, 21:
Your hónour detésts^fláttery, Í might sáy.
33. Epilogue 2:
Tó the still dóubtful áuthor, at whát^ráte.
34. _The Parliament of Love_, II., 3, 26:
You nów expréss yoursélf a compléte^lóver.
35. _The Parliament of Love_, III., 2, 149:
To háve the gréatest bléssing, a trúe^fríend.
36. _The Parliament of Love_, IV., 1, 95:
Cást yourself ón her cóuch. Oh, divíne^dóctor!
37. _The Parliament of Love_, V., 1, 69:
The módern víces. Begín;^réad the bílls.
38. _The Parliament of Love_, V., 1, 184:
The ápplicátion, ánd in a pláin^stýle.
39. _The Parliament of Love_, V., 1, 520:
Led thríce through Páris; thén at the cóurt,^gáte.
40. _The Picture_, I., 1, 48:
Of the sóuls^rávishing músic; the sáme^áge.
(A highly irregular line.)
41. _The Picture_, I., 2, 73:
Are búried in hér; the lóud^nóise of|wár.
42. _The Picture_, I., 2, 106:
Her kíngly cáptive abóve^áll the wórld.
43. _The Picture_, I., 2, 184:
Dóted on thís Semiramís, a kíng’s^wífe.
(The third foot here is u u u u.)
44. _The Picture_, I., 2, 248:
Beyónd my júst propórtion. Abóve^wónder!
45. _The Picture_, II., 1, 35:
Appéar, and, what’s móre, appéar^pérfect, híss me.
46. _The Picture_, II., 1, 66:
Their fáirest íssue to méet^sénsuálly.
47. _The Picture_, II., 1, 165:
My énd must bé to stánd in a córn^fíeld.
48. _The Picture_, II., 2, 286:
Í should fix hére, where bléssings beyónd^hópe.
49. _The Picture_, III., 2, 40:
They thánk’d the bríngers óf it. The póor^lády.
50. _The Picture_, III., 5, 161:
What cán you stáke against it. A quéen’s^fáme.
51. _The Picture_, IV., 4, 64:
If thís take nót, I am chéated. To slíp^ónce.
52. _The Picture_, V., 3, 11:
Befóre he góes to súpper. Ha! Is my hóuse^túrn’d.
(The fourth foot is u u u —.)
53. _The Picture_, V., 3, 40:
And néed no tútor. Thís is the gréat^kíng.
It will be noted that the rhythm often occurs in a broken line—_i.e._, a line divided between two speakers. _Cf._ Nos. 7, 20, 36, 44, 50, 51, 52, 53. (_Cf._ also _The Emperor of the East_, I., 1, 342.)
_Cf._ _The False One_, I., 1:
What néarer plédges chállenge: résign^ráther.
_The False One_, V., 4:
The stóry óf a supréme^mónarchý.
_The Prophetess_, I., 3:
Chéerful and gráteful tákers the góds^lóve.
_The Prophetess_, I., 3:
Nor múst I revéal^fúrther, till you cléar it.
_The Prophetess_, III., 1:
For ládies of high^márk, for divíne^beáuties.
_The Lover’s Progress_, I., 1:
To Cúpid agáinst^Hýmen! Óh, mine hónour.
_The Fair Maid of the Inn_, I., 1:
A compléte^cóurtier! máy I livé to sée him.
_Thierry and Theodoret_, IV., 2:
Thou dóst throw chárms upón me, agáinst^whích.
_Thierry and Theodoret_, IV., 2:
Aṅd the place whére, the pálace, agáinst,^áll.
_Jew of Malta_, I., 2:
And extréme^tórtures óf the fíery déep.
_Dr. Faustus_, I., 1:
And Í that háve with concíse^sýllogísms.
_Nero_, I., 4:
O sevére^ánger óf the highest góds.
_Rule a Wife_, I., 1:
For thére I dáre be bóld to appéar^óften.
_The Maid in the Mill_, I., 3:
Now by’ the sóul of lóve, a divíne^créature.
_Henry VIII_, II., 1, 11:
I’ll téll you ín a líttle. The gréat^dúke.
I believe that many of the rhythms from Shakespeare quoted by Schmidt and by Mr. R. Bridges in his “Milton’s Prosody,” can be explained in this way.
APPENDIX VII. “BELIEVE AS YOU LIST”
This play was edited by Mr. T. Crofton Croker, with a short Preface, in the Percy Society’s Publications, Vol. XXVII., 1849. The Tudor Society has published a photographic facsimile of the MS., now in the British Museum (Egerton MSS., 2828). _Cf._ B.M. Catalogue of Additions, 1907, p. 384. The MS. was purchased for the Museum at a sale on November 27, 1900, for £69. It is of paper. The original document, measuring 12-1/2 inches by 7-1/2 inches, comprises folios 5 to 29; folios 2 and 3 are the old vellum cover.
Mr. Croker’s account of the MS. (Pref., p. ix) runs as follows:
“The MS., from its commencement to the termination of the licence, was written on forty-eight pages of foolscap paper, in a small hand, sometimes not easy to be read. Of the second leaf only an inconsiderable portion remains, and the top and bottom of the paper have been injured in some places by damp. In four additional pages after the licence, the Prologue, Epilogue, and property directions are preserved. The MS. is stitched up in a parchment cover, which appears to have been a cancelled ‘Indenture’ of Elizabeth’s reign. On the outside page of this parchment, or back of the cancelled indenture, is written the title, in what I agree with Mr. Beltz in regarding as Massinger’s autograph.”(545)
From the letter of Mr. S. Beltz, given by Mr. Crofton Croker, we learn that Gifford had more than once lamented to Mr. Croker the disappearance of this MS., which Colley Cibber had seen;(546) and that the MS. had formerly been in David Garrick’s hands. Mr. S. Beltz also says: “It is well known from other sources that the play was acted on May 7, 1631.”
The MS. had belonged to George Beltz, Lancaster Herald, and executor of Garrick’s widow. His brother Samuel found it among “a mass of rubbish.” It was in the possession of J. O. Halliwell Phillips at one time. This well-known Shaksperian scholar inserted a note about it on p. 1, in which he says, _inter alia_: “This is one of the few play-house copies of any English plays before the suppression of theatres known to exist. I strongly suspect it has some corrections in Massinger’s own autograph.”
Sir George F. Warner, in the _Athenæum_ (January 19, 1901) discusses the MS. He believes it is in Massinger’s own hand, as the alterations are made _currente calamo_. This fact can easily be verified from a perusal of the MS. Sir G. Warner, after comparing the MS. with the Henslowe document at Dulwich, arrived at the conviction that the writing was Massinger’s. He considers that the title and marginal stage-directions are due to the manager, and that the Prologue and Epilogue are in a third hand. He points out that “Carthage” is written over “Venice” (Crofton Croker, p. 41), “Affricque” over “Europe” (p. 44), and “Berecinthius” over “Sampayo” (p. 79).(547) He proceeds to explain the reason for these alterations, and then emends some of Mr. Croker’s mistakes.
With all due deference to the great authority of Sir G. Warner, I do not feel certain that this hand is that of the appeal to Henslow. On the other hand, we must remember that seventeen years had elapsed, and that it is unlikely that a poor man like Massinger would have employed an amanuensis. Capital “I,” “s,” “f,” and “e” are alike in the two documents; but “ve” in “have ever” did not seem to me to be the same, nor did any of the “r’s” at Dulwich resemble the hand in the play.(548)
There are few mistakes in the MS. beyond those which the writer has corrected himself. The corrections and additions all appear to be in the same hand. The simplest explanation of the MS. is to suppose that Massinger had before him the MS. of the play which had been condemned by the Censor, and that he copied it out again, making the necessary changes of name, etc. This would account for one or two mistakes which the writer has corrected.(549) In other passages we can see his judgment at work, altering the phraseology,(550) or expanding one line into two.(551) Sometimes a word is repeated from a previous line and then cancelled,(552) as if the writer had been tired, as he might well be. The writing combines German and Italian forms.
The play was remodelled from its original form by order of the Censor.(553) Sir G. Warner has pointed out that it is derived from “the strangest adventure that ever happened, either in the ages passed or present: containing a discourse concerning the successe of the King of Portugal, Dom Sebastian. London: printed for Frances Henson, dwelling in the Blackfriers, 1601.”(554)
This book is the story of a claimant to the throne of Portugal. On p. 78 we have “the markes and signes which the King of Portugall Dom Sebastian beares naturally on his body.” Twenty-two in all are given. Among them are:
(1) He hath the right hand greater than the left.
(2) The right arme longer than the left.
(5) The right legge is longer than the left.
(6) The right foote greater than the other.
Compare these statements with the words erased in the MS., folio 8.(555)
1 MARCHANT:
His verie hand legge and foote, and the lefte side Shorter than on the right.
(12) He hath little pimples on his face and hands.
_Cf._ 2 MARCHANT:
The moles upon His face and hands(556)
(21) Another marke or wound upon the head.
(22) Another upon the right eye-brow.
_Cf._ 3 MARCHANT:
The scarres, caused by his hurts, On his right browe and head.(557)
(14) He lackes one tooth on the right side in the neather jaw.
_Cf._ BERECINTHIUS:
The hollownesse Of his under jawe, occasion’d by the losse Of a tooth pull’d out by his chirurgion.(558)
(18) The lip of Austriche,(559) like his Grandfather Charles the Fift, Emperor, Father to his mother, and of his Grandmother, Catherine, Queen of Portugall, mother to his father, sister To the said Charles the Fift.
Compare the original reading in the play,(560) “His nose! his German lippe!” Over German “very” has been written, and underneath is traceable the “A” of Austrian.
These passages leave no doubt as to the derivation of the earlier part of the story which Massinger dramatised.
On p. 45 of _The Strangest Adventure_ we read that Dom Sebastian comes to Venice “very poorely, and robbed by five of his own servants, which he entertained in Cicilie.” This incident occurs in _Believe as You List_,