I., 2, 194. To his merchant, mercer, draper, His linen-man, and tailor. V., 2, 88. As sacred, glorious, high, invincible. _City Madam_, II., 1, 72. Tissue, gold, silver, velvets, satins, taffetas. IV., 3, 69. Entreaties, curses, prayers, or imprecations. _Unnatural Combat_, II., 1, 128. All respect, Love, fear, and reverence cast off. _Great Duke of Florence_, II., 1, 7. We of necessity must be chaste, wise, fair. 2. A more marked feature is the repetition of words or short phrases in various parts of the line.(164) The following instances may be given from (_a_) _The Great Duke of Florence_: I., 1, 154. It is the duke! The duke. I., 2, 41. Our duchess; such a duchess. I., 2, 95. See, signiors, see our care. I., 2, 131. Take up, take up. II., 1, 71. Fie! fie! the princess. III., 1, 102. Tells His son, this is the prince, the hopeful prince. (_b_) _The City Madam_: II., 1, 58. I blush for you, Blush at your poverty of spirit. III., 1, 11. I am starv’d, Starv’d in my pleasures. V., 1, 12. Far, far above your hopes. V., 1, 81. The height Of honour, principal honour. V., 2, 67. A manor pawn’d, Pawn’d, my good lord. And, thirdly, the versification of Massinger is musical and melodious. Boyle says that Milton’s blank verse owes much to the study of it. “In the indefinable touches which make up the music of a verse, in the artistic distribution of pauses, and in the unerring choice and grouping of just those words which strike the ear as the perfection of harmony, there are, if we leave Cyril Tourneur’s _Atheist’s Tragedy_ out of the question, only two masters in the drama, Shakspere in his latest period and Massinger.”(165) Coleridge says that it is “an excellent metre, a better model for dramatists in general to imitate than Shakspere’s. Read Massinger aright, and measure by time, not syllables, and no lines can be more legitimate, none in which the substitution of equipollent feet, and the modifications by emphasis, are managed with such exquisite judgment.”(166) Be it noted that this praise comes from a master of his art, for no one who has once appreciated Coleridge’s command of vowel-syzygy and the velvet-like texture of his blank verse can refuse him that title. Massinger’s blank verse is equal to all the emotions which the author can express and kindle. It never fails him, nor, on the other hand, does it obtrude itself unduly on the sense conveyed. Only after reading a considerable passage of our poet do we understand how much the versification contributes to his lifelike and dignified atmosphere.