Evadne. I thánk thee, Dúla; | ’wóuld, thou cóuld’st instíl
Sóme of thy mírth | intó Aspátiá!
Nóthing but sád thòughts | ín her bréast do dwéll:
Methínks, a méan betwíxt you | wóuld do wéll.
Dula. Shé is in lóve: | Háng me, if Í were só,
But Í could rún my cóuntry. | Í love, tóo,
To dó those thíngs | that péople ín love dó.
Asp. It wére a tímeless smíle | should próve my chéek:
It wére a fítter hóur | for mé to láugh,
When át the áltar | thé relígious príest
Were pácifýing | thé offénded pówers
With sácrifíce, than nów. | Thís should have béen
My níght; and áll your hánds | have béen emplóy’d
In gíving mé | a spótless ófferíng
To yóung Amíntor’s béd, | as wé are nów
For yóu. | Párdon, Evádne; ’wóuld, my wórth
Were gréat as yóurs, | ór that the kíng, or hé,
Or bóth thought só! | Perháps, he fóund me wórthless:
But, tíll he díd so, | ín these éars of míne,
These crédulous éars, | he póur’d the swéetest wórds
That árt or lóve could fráme. | Íf he were fálse,
Párdon it Héaven! | ánd if Í did wánt
Vírtue, | you sáfely máy | forgíve that tóo;
For Í have lóst | nóne that I hád from yóu.
§ 176. Fewer peculiarities appear in the verse of Massinger, who (according to Fleay and Boyle) wrote many plays in partnership with Beaumont and Fletcher; for this reason his verse has been examined by those scholars in connexion with that of Beaumont and Fletcher. Like Fletcher, Massinger uses a great many feminine endings; but he has many run-on lines as well as ‘light’ and ‘weak’ endings. In contradistinction to Beaumont’s practice, he seldom uses prose and rhyme, but he has a great many double endings. His verse is very melodious, similar on the whole to that of Shakespeare’s middle period.
The following passage may serve as an example:
Tib. It ís the dúchess’ bírthday, | ónce a yéar
Solémnized wíth all pómp | and céremóny;
In whích the dúke is nót his ówn, | but hérs:
Nay, évery dáy, indéed, | he ís her créature,
For néver mán so dóated;— | bút to téll
The ténth part óf his fóndness | to a stránger,
Would árgue mé of fíction. | Steph. Shé’s, indéed,
A lády óf most éxquisite fórm. | Tib. She knóws it,
And hów to príze it. | Steph. I néver héard her tainted
In ány póint of hónour. | Tib. Ón my lífe,
She’s cónstant tó his béd, | and wéll desérves
His lárgest fávours. | Bút, when béauty is
Stámp’d on great wómen, | gréat in bírth and fórtune,
And blówn by flátterers | gréater thán it ís,
’Tis séldom únaccómpaníed | with príde;
Nor ís she thát way frée: | presúming ón
The dúke’s afféction, | ánd her ówn desért,
She béars hersélf | with súch a májestý,
Lóoking with scórn on áll | as thíngs benéath her,
That Sfórza’s móther, | thát would lóse no párt
Of whát was ónce her ówn, | nor hís fair síster,
A lády tóo | acquáinted wíth her wórth,
Will bróok it wéll; | and hówsoé’er their háte
Is smóther’d fór a tíme, | ’tis móre than féar’d
It wíll at léngth break óut. | Steph. Hé in whose pówer it ís,
Turn áll to the bést. | Tib. Come, lét us tó the cóurt;
We thére shall sée all bráverý and cóst,
That árt can bóast of. | Steph. I’ll béar you cómpaný.
Massinger, Duke of Milan, I. i. end.
The versification of the other dramatists of this time cannot be discussed in this place. It must suffice to say that the more defined and artistic blank verse, introduced by Marlowe and Shakespeare, was cultivated by Beaumont, Massinger, Chapman, Dekker, Ford, &c.; a less artistic verse, on the other hand, so irregular as sometimes to approximate to prose, is found in Ben Jonson and Fletcher, and to a less degree in Middleton, Marston, and Shirley. (Cf. Metrik, ii. §§ 171–8.)
§ 177. The blank verse of Milton, who was the first since Surrey to use it for epic poetry, is of greater importance than that of the minor dramatists, and is itself of particular interest. Milton’s verse, it is true, cannot be said to be always very melodious. On the contrary, it sometimes can be brought into conformity with the regular scheme of the five-foot verse only by level stress and by assigning full value to syllables that in ordinary pronunciation are slurred or elided (see § [83]).
Generally, however, Milton’s blank verse has a stately rhythmical structure all its own, due to his masterly employment of the whole range of metrical artifices. In the first place, he frequently employs inversion of accent, both at the beginning of a line and after a caesura; sometimes together with double thesis in the interior of the line, as e.g.: