The ascription of the play to Massinger and Dekker on the title-page of the 1622 edition might be held to prove that the lion’s share in it is due to the former, especially when we remember that he was the younger and presumably the less-known author of the two. I should not, however, wish to deny the possibility that Dekker contributed some of the serious parts. I feel rather disposed to suggest that in one or two of the scenes in question both authors were at work. There is nothing impossible or improbable in this hypothesis. Charles Lamb says about the scene between Dorothea and Angelo, beginning Act II., 1, line 224, that “it has beauties of so very high an order, that with all my respect for Massinger, I do not think he had poetical enthusiasm capable of furnishing them. His associate Dekker, who wrote _Old Fortunatus_, had poetry enough for anything.” This is one of Lamb’s many unfair remarks about our author; he had discovered so many treasures in the Elizabethan goldfield that he was disposed to underrate the favourite of the eighteenth century. One rises from a perusal of the works of Dekker with a feeling that he was in many respects an engaging, child-like mind, with a gift for drawing character, but with an imperfect sense of technique and structure. If he had written anything in his undoubted works as good as this scene, it would be natural to adjudge it to him. I should be inclined to assign II., 2, to Massinger; great stress is laid in it on the lack of courtesy shown in scanty greetings, which is a familiar line of thought in our author. Theophilus’ speech, “Have I invented tortures,” sounds to me like Massinger. The structure of II., 3, reminds one of several similar incidents in Massinger, though it is clear that no poet can claim the monopoly of introducing auditors of love-scenes in the gallery above the stage. On the other hand, the ravings of Theophilus (_ibid._, 116-123) read like Dekker; as does the rhymed passage (_ibid._, 131-136). Perhaps the scene is composite. The same remark applies to IV., 1. The first sixty lines are certainly Massinger’s, and much of the rest; notice especially Antoninus’ sudden change of mind at line 102. On the other hand, the speech of the British slave (_ibid._, 136-147) might be Dekker’s work. If Massinger can be accredited with Dorothea’s farewell speech in IV., 3, 69-92, I do not see why he should not have written the famous passage in II., 1. They seem to me to have the same thrill of emotion. Lastly, V., 1, seems to be constructed on the lines of a Massinger scene, and to contain traces of his vocabulary; _cf._ the use of “horror” in line 41, and of “to thy centre” in line 146. The conversion of Theophilus, like that of Antoninus in a previous scene, is effected rapidly, in Massinger’s manner. To sum up, I should be inclined to say that Massinger had, at any rate, a considerable share in the following scenes: II., 1, II., 2, II., 3, IV., 1, V., 1.