The names of Beaumont and Fletcher are as inseparably linked together
as those of Castor and Pollux. They are the double stars of our
poetical firmament, and their beams are so indissolubly mingled that it
is in vain to attempt any division of them that shall assign to each
his rightful share. So long as they worked in partnership, Jasper Mayne
says truly that they are
“both so knit
That no man knows where to divide their wit,
Much less their praise.”