William Shakespeare and John Fletcher

“ We pray our Play may be so; For I am sure It has a noble Breeder, and a pure, A learned, and a Poet never went More famous yet twixt Po and silver Trent. Chaucer (of all admir’d) the Story gives, There constant to eternity it lives. If we let fall the Noblenesse of this, And the first sound this child heare, be a hisse, How will it shake the bones of that good man And make him cry from under ground, “O fan From me the witles chaffe of such a wrighter That blastes my Bayes, and my fam'd workes makes lighter Then Robin Hood!” This is the feare we bring ”