Moreover, the metre of Massinger is admirably suited to his style. There seems a hidden but real harmony between them. Some might call his metre at times slipshod and undignified, from the fact that, except in elevated passages, the characters speak in rhythmical sentences which approximate to prose. Boyle, who declares that “Marlowe and Massinger are the two extremes of the metrical movement in the dramatists,”(167) has pointed out that “Massinger’s blank verse shows a larger proportion of run-on lines and double endings in harmonious union than any of his contemporaries.(168) Cartwright and Tourneur have more run-on lines, but not so many double endings. Fletcher has more double endings, but very few run-on lines. Shakspere and Beaumont alone exhibit a somewhat similar metrical style.”(169) This is interesting, because we shall see later on that Massinger was a devoted admirer and imitator of Shakspere in thought, device, and expression. It is not strange, therefore, that he should also copy his metre, or rather, develop his own on the same lines. To show how flexible and dexterous the metre of Massinger is, I will give two instances from _The Bashful Lover_. In the first Uberti encourages Gonzaga to persevere with the contest: UBERTI. Sir, these tears Do well become a father, and my eyes Would keep you company as a forlorn lover, But that the burning fire of my revenge Dries up those drops of sorrow. We, once more, Our broken forces rallied up, and with Full numbers strengthen’d, stand prepared t’ endure A second trial; nor let it dismay us That we are once again t’ affront the fury Of a victorious army; their abuse Of conquest hath disarm’d them, and call’d down The Powers above to aid us. I have read Some piece of story, yet ne’er found but that The general, that gave way to cruelty, The profanation of things sacred, rapes Of virgins, butchery of infants, and The massacre in cold blood of reverend age, Against the discipline and law of arms, Did feel the hand of heaven lie heavy on him When most secure.(170) In the second Gonzaga refuses the hand of his daughter Matilda to Lorenzo: