Not sue for favour.
and the general likeness of [l. 258] ff. with C-G. 44 b-45 a, as above noted. Nor do the verse tests reveal any break in the continuity of the Scene; the figures for the first part are: double endings, 45 per cent.; run-on lines, 33 per cent.—for the second part: double endings, 36 per cent.; run-on lines, 36 per cent.
Passing to the [Second Act], we discover at once a new manner of expression, in which the sentence has a looser structure, the verse a quicker tempo, the poetry a striving now and again for a note of lyric beauty which, although satisfactorily achieved in but few lines, is by Massinger’s verse not even attempted. A liberal sprinkling of rhymes appears. The Scene is a trifle more vividly conceived; the emotions have a somewhat more genuine ring. Simultaneously, resemblances to the phraseology of Massinger’s other plays become infrequent; and, to increase the wonder, is almost the only reminder of him in the whole of Scene i. On the other hand we must not expect to find in the work of Field the same large number of recognizable expressions as mark that of Massinger; for he was not nearly so given to repeating himself, nor are there many of his plays extant from which to garner parallels. The figure of speech with which Charalois opens his funeral address [Field shows a great predilection for “aqueous” similes and metaphors], the liberal use of oaths (’Slid, ’Slight), a reference ([l. 137]) to the Bermudas (also mentioned in Amends for Ladies: M. 427), and the comparison to the oak and pine ([ll. 119–121]—cf. a Field Scene of The Queen of Corinth: D. V, 436–7) are the only specific minutia to which a finger can be pointed. The verse analysis testifies similarly to a different author from that of Act I, double endings being 20 per cent., run-on lines 15 per cent.—figures which are quite normal to Field.
To the actor-dramatist may be set down the prose of [II, ii] without question. Massinger practically never uses prose, which is liberally employed by Field, as is the almost indistinguishable prose-or-verse by which a transition is made from one medium to the other. The dialogue between Beaumelle and her maids is strikingly like that between two “gentlewomen” in The Knight of Malta, I, ii—a Scene generally recognized as by his hand; the visit of Novall Junior which follows is like a page out of his earlier comedies. Notable resemblances are ll. 177–8, Uds-light! my lord, one of the purls of your band is, without all discipline, fallen out of his rank, with I have seen him sit discontented a whole play because one of the purls of his band was fallen out of his reach to order again. (Amends for Ladies, M. 455); and [l. 104], they skip into my lord’s cast skins some twice a year, with and then my lord (like a snake) casts a suite every quarter, which I slip into: (Woman is a Weathercock, M. 374). The song, after [l. 131], recalls that in Amends for Ladies, M. 465.
Of the verse which follows, most of the observations made in regard to the preceeding Scene are applicable. The comic touch in the midst of Romont’s tirade ([ll. 174–206]) against old Novall, when the vehemence of his indignation leads him to seek at every breath the epithet of a different beast for his foe, is surely Field’s, not Massinger’s. A Field scene of The Queen of Corinth, D. V, 438, parallels with its Thou a gentleman! thou an ass, the construction of [l. 276], while there too is duplicated the true-love knots of [l. 314], though in a rather grotesque connection. The verse tests are confirmative of Field: 21 per cent. double endings; 19 per cent, run-on lines. While a few resemblances to phrases occurring somewhere in the works of Massinger can be marked here and there in the 355 lines of the Scene, they are not such as would demand consideration, nor are more numerous than sheer chance would yield in the case of a writer so prolific as the “stage-poet.” The parallel between [ll. 284–297] and a passage from The Unnatural Combat is pointed out under the head of [Date], and one of several possible explanations for this coincidence is there offered. These lines in The Fatal Dowry are as unmistakably Field’s as any verse in the entire play; their short, abruptly broken periods and their rapid flow are as characteristic of him as the style of their analogue in The Unnatural Combat is patently Massingerian.
[Act III] presents a more difficult problem. It will be noted that Fleay and Boyle alike declare that its single long Scene is divided between the two authors, but are unable to agree as to the point of division. The first 316 lines are beyond question the work of Massinger. The tilt between Romont and Beaumelle is conducted with that flood of rhetorical vituperation by which he customarily attempts to delineate passion; in no portion of the play is his diction and sentence-structure more marked; and the parallels to passages elsewhere in his works reappear with redoubled profusion. Indeed, they become too numerous for complete citation; let it suffice to refer [ll. 43–4] to D. III, 477; [ll. 53–4] to C-G. 173 a; [ll. 80–3] to D. III, 481; [l. 104] to C-G. 532 a; [l. 116] to C-G. 146 b; [ll. 117–8] to D. VI, 294 and D. VI, 410; [ll. 232–5] to C-G. 307 a, also to 475 b, and to D. VIII, 406; while the phrase, Meet with an ill construction ([l. 238]) is a common one with Massinger (cf. C-G. 76 a, 141 b, 193 b, 225 b, 339 b), as are such ironic observations as the Why, ’tis exceeding well of [l. 293] (cf., e. g., 175 b). This part of the Scene contains 45 per cent. double endings and 36 per cent. run-on lines.
The last 161 lines of the Act with scarcely less certainty can be established as Field’s, though on a first reading one might imagine, from the wordiness of the vehement dialogue and the rather high ratio (19:11) of speeches ending in mid-line, that the hand of Massinger continues throughout. But the closest examination no longer will reveal traces of that playwright’s distinctive handiwork, while a ratio of 17 per cent. for double endings and 28 per cent. for run-on lines, the introduction of rhyme, the oaths, and the change from the previous full-flowing declamation to shorter, more abrupt periods are vouchers that this part of the Scene is from the pen of the actor-dramatist. We can scarcely imagine the ponderous-styled Massinger writing anything so easy and rapid as
I’ll die first.
Farewell; continue merry, and high heaven
Keep your wife chaste.