Ben Jonson

In his lifetime, the plays earned him fame and money. However, it was his poetry that serious readers continuously revisited. His lyrics and epigrams shaped the work of generations of English poets, while the "Sons of Ben" — younger writers who surrounded him — adopted his poetic style as their model. Today, most people come across him through a few notable poems rather than his complete plays.

It's a theatrical theory based on the ancient medical belief that personality is influenced by four bodily fluids: blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile. Jonson employed this idea as a source of humor, with each character showcasing one over-the-top trait or obsession, revealing just how absurd that makes them. You can think of it as an early example of satire where every character becomes a living punchline focused on a single human flaw.

Almost completely. He based his epigrams on Martial, his odes on Horace, and his country-house poem "To Penshurst" on the Roman tradition of celebrating noble estates. While many of his contemporaries loaded their work with ornament and metaphor, Jonson preferred clarity, balance, and conciseness. He thought a poem should convey exactly what it means, using as few words as necessary.

It's a poem that celebrates the Sidney family's country estate in Kent, but at its core, it's really discussing how a great household ought to function—being generous to its tenants, closely tied to the land, and simple in its design. Scholars are interested in it because it effectively established the English "country house poem" genre and uses admiration for a building to deliver a sharp moral argument about wealth and responsibility.

It's a complicated relationship. Jonson openly criticized Shakespeare's work, believing it was sloppy and that Shakespeare often disregarded classical rules. However, he also penned one of the most heartfelt tributes to Shakespeare in the First Folio, describing him as "not of an age, but for all time." Despite their differences, they appeared to have respected each other, albeit with contrasting temperaments. Jonson was known for being combative and opinionated, while Shakespeare, by most accounts, was quite the opposite.

Yes, that's right. "To Celia" is the poem that starts with those lines. It's a brief and graceful love lyric that gained such popularity that it was turned into a song. Jonson actually put it together using phrases taken from the Greek writer Philostratus — a practice that was viewed as an acceptable classical technique back then, not plagiarism.

Collecting plays and labeling them as "Works" came off as presumptuous—plays were viewed as popular entertainment, not literature, and the term "Works" was typically reserved for serious scholarly writing. Jonson faced mockery from his critics for this. However, he was making a purposeful statement: he believed his writing deserved to be regarded alongside the classical authors he admired. In the end, history validated his perspective.

He is, and his burial story is just as large as he was. He is said to have requested to be buried standing up, and his grave bears the inscription "O Rare Ben Jonson" — supposedly carved by a passer-by who handed the mason eighteen pence right then and there. Regardless of whether that tale is accurate, the epitaph has certainly endured.