In the large book of Playes you late did print In Beaumont's and in Fletcher's name, why in't Did you not justice? Give to each his due? For Beaumont of those many writ in few, And Massinger in other few; the Main Being sole Issues of sweet Fletcher's brain. But how came I (you ask) so much to know? Fletcher's chief bosome-friend informed me so. I' the next impression therefore justice do, And print their old ones in one volume too; For Beaumont's works and Fletcher's should come forth, With all the right belonging to their worth. In still another poem, printed in 1662, but written not long after 1647, and addressed to his cousin, Charles Cotton, Sir Aston returns to the charge: I wonder, Cousin, that you would permit So great an Injury to Fletcher's wit, Your friend and old Companion, that his fame Should be divided to another's name. If Beaumont had writ those Plays, it had been Against his merits a detracting Sin, Had they been attributed also to Fletcher. They were two wits and friends, and who Robs from the one to glorify the other, Of these great memories is a partial Lover. Had Beaumont liv'd when this Edition came Forth, and beheld his ever living name Before Plays that he never writ, how he Had frown'd and blush'd at such Impiety! His own Renown no such Addition needs To have a Fame sprung from another's deedes: And my good friend Old Philip Massinger With Fletcher writ in some that we see there. But you may blame the Printers: yet you might Perhaps have won them to do Fletcher right, Would you have took the pains; for what a foul And unexcusable fault it is (that whole Volume of plays being almost every one After the death of Beaumont writ) that none Would certifie them so much! I wish as free Y' had told the Printers this, as you did me. . . . . . . ... While they liv'd and writ together, we Had Plays exceeded what we hop'd to see. But they writ few; for youthful Beaumont soon By death eclipsed was at his high noon.