Jonson, BEN, dramatist, was born at Westminster about 1573, a month after the death of his father, who was a minister. His grandfather was of Annandale (probably a member of one of the Johnstone families). Ben was educated at Westminster School under William Camden, whom he held in the highest veneration. He is said to have spent some time at Cambridge, but certainly did not go through the regular academic course. His mother was remarried to a master-bricklayer; and for a while Ben followed the craft of his step-father. As he 'could not endure the occupation' (see his Conversations with William Drummond of Hawthornden) he went off to serve as a soldier in the Low Countries, where he distinguished himself by killing one of the enemy in single combat 'in the face of both the camps.' After a short stay abroad he returned and 'betook himself to his wonted studies.' He married early (about 1592) and had children, whom he survived. Among his poems are two tender elegies on the death of his eldest son and eldest daughter. According to his own account his wife was 'a shrew, yet honest.' On one occasion he stayed five years away from her, as the guest of Lord Aubigny.
We first hear of Jonson's connection with the stage in 1597, but he had doubtless been at work for some time previously both as an actor and dramatist. In 1598 he is mentioned by Meres as one of 'our best for Tragedie.' During these early years he seems to have usually collaborated with other playwrights—Porter, Chettle, Dekker, &c. He had a narrow escape in 1598 from the gallows. An actor in Henslowe's company, Gabriel Spencer, challenged him to a duel in the fields at Shoreditch. Jonson killed his adversary, was tried for homicide, pleaded his clergy, and escaped with the penalty of branding in the thumb of the left hand and the forfeit of his goods and chattels. In his conversations with William Drummond (q.v.), whom he visited at Hawthornden in 1618–19, he declared that the quarrel was not of his seeking, but that he 'had been appealed to the fields,' adding that the challenger's sword was 10 inches longer than his own. During his imprisonment he was visited by a priest who converted him to the Roman Catholic creed, to which he adhered for the space of twelve years. The fact that he was branded is a recent discovery, made by Mr Cordy Jeaffreson in the course of his researches in the Middlesex Sessions Rolls.
In 1598 Every Man in his Humour was produced. There is a tradition that Shakespeare procured this excellent play to be acted; and we know that Shakespeare himself personated one of the characters. In the original version the scene is laid near Florence; afterwards Jonson gave English names to the characters, and shifted the scene to London. Every Man in his Humour is the only play of Jonson's which has been revived in modern times. It is lighter and brisker than the elaborate masterpieces of his maturer years. The success of Every Man in his Humour inspired Every Man out of his Humour (1599), a somewhat tedious play, which was followed by The Case is Altered (1599), Cynthia's Revels (1600), and The Poetaster (1601). In the last play Jonson made a violent attack on Dekker and Marston, and was in consequence assailed in Dekker's Satiromastix. Subsequently Jonson and Marston were reconciled; they worked together on Eastward Ho, in company with Chapman; and Marston dedicated his Malcontent to Jonson in handsome terms. But the quarrel broke out again later. Sejanus, a solidly constructed but frigid tragedy, was produced in 1603; and Volpone, or the Fox, a dexterously ingenious but uncomfortably cynical comedy, in 1605. Of Epicene, or the Silent Woman (1609), a farcical mirth-provoking piece, Dryden observed, 'I prefer it before all other plays, I think justly, as I do its author, in judgment, above all other poets.' The Alchemist (1610) is the most elaborate and most masterly of Jonson's writings, the magnificent extravagance of Sir Epicure Mammon being depicted with keenest spirit and inexhaustible learning. Catiline (1611) is a companion piece to Sejanus. Bartholomew Fair (1614) hits off the humours of the old London festival with the liveliest gusto, and in the person of Zeal-of-the-Land Busy gives a capital sketch of a canting Puritan elder. The Devil is an Ass (1616) and The Staple of News (1625) are of smaller account. The New Inn (1629-30) was not successful on the stage (as Jonson records in a famous ode); it has an improbable plot, but contains some of the poet's most eloquent writing. The latest comedies were The Magnetic Lady (1632) and A Tale of a Tub (1633). A delightful pastoral play, The Sad Shepherd, was left unfinished.
Ben Jonson's masques are of singular beauty. He was one of the most learned men of his age, and he lavished all the stores of his knowledge on these entertainments; but his sprightliness of fancy and fertility of invention matched his learning, and his masques are models of elegance and grace. The mechanism was provided by Inigo Jones, with whom he frequently quarrelled. Other poets allowed Jones to take the chief credit for the success of their masques; but Jonson insisted that the poetry was the main thing, and that the mechanician's art was of minor importance. Jones finally succeeded (1627) in ousting Jonson from court favour.
In addition to the masques Jonson wrote many elegies, epistles, love-poems, epigrams, and epitaphs. The famous epitaph on the Countess of Pembroke, beginning 'Underneath this sable hearse,' is most happily turned; and another on Salathiel Pavy is hardly inferior. As a song-writer he had few equals. Of his songs the most popular is 'Drink to me only with thine eyes;' but the Hymn to Diana in Cynthia's Revels, 'Still to be neat, still to be drest' in The Silent Woman, and many of the songs scattered up and down the masques are equally charming. None knew better than Ben Jonson how to write complimentary poems; the best is perhaps the epigram to the Countess of Bedford, 'This morning, timely rapt with holy fire.' To the collected edition (1623) of Shakespeare's works he prefixed a noble memorial poem. His prose Discoveries are distinguished by admirable judgment and unaffected purity of diction.
When he was in his forty-sixth year he spoke with humorous complacency of his 'mountain belly' and 'rocky face.' But bodily infirmities came in later years. Towards the end of 1625 he was attacked by the palsy, and afterwards by dropsy. For the last two or three years of his life he was unable to leave his room. His sufferings were intensified by poverty; but he found patrons in King Charles and the Earl (afterwards Duke) of Newcastle. He died in August 1637, and was buried at Westminster Abbey. A collection of poems to his memory, by most of the famous wits of the age, was published in 1638 under the title of Jonsonus Verbius. His arrogance and asperity had procured him some enemies; but he had been liberal in his praise of others' merits, and the younger poets regarded him with reverence and affection. The slab over his grave bears the inscription, 'O rare Ben Jonson!' His works were edited (in 9 vols.) in 1816 by William Gifford, who cleared away the baseless calumnies by which his memory had been assailed. Gifford's edition was re-issued in 1875 (9 vols.), with additional notes by the late Lieut.-col. Cunningham. See A. C. Swinburne, A Study of Ben Jonson (1890).