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._ Such phrases as _So I not heard them_ (l. 352) and _Like George a-horseback_ (l. 433) in the loose structure of the one and the slangy scurrility of the other, exhibit no kinship to his manner; l. 373, _They are fools that judge me by my outward seeming_ recalls a Field passage in _The Queen of Corinth_ (D. V, 444) _They are fools that hold them dignified by blood_. There is here and there, moreover, a certain violence of expression, a compressed over-trenchancy of phrase, that brings to mind the rant of the early Elizabethans, and is found among the Jacobeans only in the work of Rowley, Beaumont, and Field. For the last named, this is notably exemplified in the opening soliloquy of _The Knight of Malta_; we cannot but recognize the same touch here in ll. 386-8: _Thou dost strike A deathful coldness to my heart’s high heat, And shrink’st my liver like the calenture._ The _Something I must do_, which concludes the Act, is repeatedly paralleled in Massinger’s plays, but a similar indefinite resolve is expressed in _Woman is a Weathercock_ (M. 363), and it consequently cannot be adduced as evidence of his hand. Immediately above, however (ll. 494-6), we encounter, in the allusion to the Italian and Dutch temperaments, a thought twice echoed by the “stage-poet” in plays of not greatly later date, _The Duke of Milan_ and _The Little French Lawyer_ (C-G. 90 a; D. III, 505). It may represent an interpolation by Massinger; it may be merely that this rather striking conclusion to the climatic speech of his collaborator’s scene so fixed itself on his mind as to crop out afterwards in his own productions. In the short disputed passage (ll. 317-343) which separates what is undoubtedly Massinger’s from what is undoubtedly Field’s, it would appear that both playwrights had a hand. The _’Sdeath and Gads me!_, the play upon the word _currier_, and the phrase, _I shall be with you suddenly_ (cf. _Q. of Cor._ D. V, 467) speak for Field; while Massinger, on the other hand, parallels