Beaumont and Fletcher
Biography of Beaumont and Fletcher
Beaumont and Fletcher were the English dramatists Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, who collaborated in their writing during the reign of James I (he reigned in England 1603-1625)
When the first collected folio of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, containing a masque and some thirty-four plays, none of the latter having previously been printed, was published in 1647, long after the deaths of its authors, no attempt was made to discriminate between the parts of the famous collaborators; nor did the 1679 folio, in spite of its eighteen additional plays, suggest that a separation was desirable or feasible. But recent investigation has tended more and more strongly toward such a distinction, until, for instance, C.M. Gayley in his Beaumont the Dramatist is sure of only six plays as the joint product of Swinburne's Castor and Pollux of the English drama--although E.H.C. Oliphant in his The Plays of Beaumont and Fletcher prefers eight and allows the two men three more with the assistance of Massinger.
Moreover, contrary to the older impression growing out of the longer dramatic career and larger output of Fletcher, virtually all modern critics insist that Beaumont was the greater dramatist. But the disentangling of the web has not ended here, since the hands of Massinger and Field, not to mention those of William Rowley, Shirley, Shakespeare, and others have been identified in a considerable part of the work which for many years masqueraded under the label of "Beaumont and Fletcher." The whole situation provides a striking commentary on the conditions of Elizabethan dramatic publication and authorship.
Beaumont and Fletcher's Works:
Plays generally recognized as Beaumont/Fletcher collaborations
The Woman Hater, comedy (1606; printed 1607)
Cupid's Revenge, tragedy (c. 1607–12; printed 1615)
Philaster, or Love Lies a-Bleeding, tragicomedy (c. 1609; printed 1629)
The Maid's Tragedy, tragedy (c. 1609; printed 1619)
A King and No King, tragicomedy (1611; printed 1619)
The Captain, comedy (c. 1609–12; printed 1647)
The Scornful Lady, comedy (c. 1613; printed 1616)
Love's Pilgrimage, tragicomedy c. 1615–16; 1647)
The Noble Gentleman, comedy (licensed Feb. 3, 1626; printed 1647)
Beaumont/Fletcher plays, later revised by Massinger
Thierry and Theodoret, tragedy (c. 1607?; printed 1621)
The Coxcomb, comedy (1608–10; printed 1647)
Beggars' Bush, comedy (c. 1612–13?; revised 1622?; printed 1647)
Love's Cure, comedy (c. 1612–13?; revised 1625?; printed 1647)
This page is based on the copyrighted Wikipedia Beaumont and Fletcher; it is used under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. You may redistribute it, verbatim or modified, providing that you comply with the terms of the CC-BY-SA.
Beaumont and Fletcher Poems
Lay A Garland On My Hearse
Lay a garland on my hearse, Of the dismal yew, Maidens, willow branches bear, Say I died true.
Sleep - (From Valentinian)
Care-charming sleep, thou easer of all woes, Brother to death; sweetly thyself dispose On this afflicted prince; fall, like a cloud,
Love At First Sight - (From Philaster)
Sitting in my window, Pointing my thoughts in lawn, I saw a god, (I thought, but it was you,) enter our gates;
Consolation Of Early Death
Sweet prince, the name of Death was never terrible To him that knew to live; nor the loud torrent Of all afflictions, singing as they swim,
O divine star of Heaven, Thou in power above the seven; Thou, O gentle Queen, that art Curer of each wounded heart,
Folding The Flocks
Shepherds all, and maidens fair, Fold your flocks up; for the air 'Gins to thicken, and the sun
Song - Shake Off Your Heavy Trance
Shake off your heavy trance, And leap into a dance, Such as no mortals use to tread, Fit only for Apollo -
Hence, all you vain delights, As short as are the nights Wherein you spend your folly! There's nought in this life sweet,
Unfolding The Flocks
Shepherds, rise, and shake off sleep - See the blushing morn doth peep Through your windows, while the sun To the mountain-tops has run,
Queen Bonduca, I do not grieve your fortune. If I grieve, 'tis at the bearing of your fortunes; You put too much wind to your sail: discretion
Hence, all you vain delights,
As short as are the nights
Wherein you spend your folly!
There's nought in this life sweet,
If man were wise to see it,
But only melancholy;
Oh, sweetest melancholy!
Welcome folded arms, and fixed eyes,
A sigh that piercing mortifies,