Ben+Jonson

__CP Brit Home__
= = = __Ben Johnson__ =



==== Ben Jonson was known as a controversial playwright whose works would often garner more attention for the people being satirized rather than for the stories they told. After being educated at Westminster School by the great classical scholar William Camdem, Jonson decided that his father's profession of bricklaying seemed unappealing and he decided to join the theatrical company of William Henslowe in London as both and actor and playwright. It was here that Jonson began his writing career. His first major play was //The Isle of Dogs,// written in 1597. Authorities deemed the play subversive because it portrayed the Queen and her courtiers as lustful and corrupt members of society and, as a result, he was ====

==== sent to prison. After leaving prison the following year, Jonson again found himself in hot water for killing a fellow actor, Gabriel Spencer, in a duel. Even after all this, Jonson still managed to release his second play, //Every Man in His Humour//, in 1599//.// The play was performed by the Lord Chamberlin's Men with William Shakespeare in the cast. The play was a success and gave Jonson the freedom to experiment with different projects over the next four years. During a period between 1605 and 1614, Jonson wrote some of his best works including //The Alchemist//, //The Silent Woman//, and //The Fox.// Jonson continued to work steadily until he was eventually appointed City Chronologer of London in 1628. However, that same year, he suffered a massive stroke and was unable to work until his death in 1637. ====

[[image:http://www.edwardoxenford.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/BenJonsonWorried.jpg align="right" link="http://www.edwardoxenford.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/BenJonsonWorried.jpg"]]

 * Born on June 11,1572
 * Educated at Westminster School by William Camden
 * Joined the arm and began to serve in Flanders
 * When he returned to England he married Anne Lewis (November 14,1594)
 * He joined the Theatrical company of Philip Henslowe as an actor and playwright
 * Prisoned for his Involvement of the satire entitled **__//The Isle of Dogs//__**
 * He killed a fellow actor, but escaped the gallows by pleading benefit of clergy
 * His second play, //Every man and His Humor,// was performed at the Globe with William Shakespeare
 * In 1605 he began to make masques for the entertainment of court
 * Appointed City Chronologer of London in 1628
 * Suffered a severe stroke in 1628
 * He died August 6,1637

>> media type="youtube" key="Axy77aRResM" height="315" width="420"
 * 1) Plays
 * [|The Devil is an Ass]
 * [|Every Man in his Humor]
 * [|The Case is Altered]
 * [|New Inn]
 * To see more [|click here]
 * 1) Poems
 * [|The Dream]
 * [|The Hour-Glass]
 * [|Against Jealousy]
 * [|A song]
 * To see more [|click here]

media type="file" key="On My First Son by Ben Jonson.mp3" width="264" height="22" //On My First Son// by Ben Jonson Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy ; My sin was too much hope of thee, lov'd boy. Seven years thou wert lent to me, and I thee pay, Exacted by thy fate, on the just day. Oh, could I lose all father now ! For why Will man lament the state he should envy? To have so soon 'scaped world's and flesh's rage, And if no other misery, yet age ! Rest in soft peace, and, asked, say, Here doth lie Ben Jonson his __best__ piece of poetry. For whose sake henceforth all his vows be such As what he loves may never like too much.

On My First Son, **QUESTIONS**:
 * 1) What is your attitude toward the speaker after reading the poem?
 * 2) In __your opinion__, what are some of the emotions and issues the speaker is grappling with as a result of his son's death? Consider: the "sin" he describes in line 2; the __comparison__ he makes in lines 3-4; his resolve in lines 11-12
 * 3) The English poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson, once wrote, "Tis better to have loved and lost / Than never to have loved at all." How do you think Jonson would have responded to Tennyson's statement?

[|On My first Son]
media type="file" key="Output.aif" height="22" width="300" Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy; My sinne was too much hope of thee, lov'd boy; Seven yeeres tho' wert lent to me, and I thee pay, Exacted by thy fate, on the just day. O, could I loose all father, now. For whyWill man lament the state he should envie? To have so soon scap'd worlds and fleshes rage ,And, if no other miserie, yet age? Rest in soft peace, and, ask'd, say here doth lyeBen. Johnson his best piece of poetrie. For whose sake, hence-forth, all his vowes be such ,As what he loves may never like too much.

media type="youtube" key="Axy77aRResM" width="425" height="350" media type="youtube" key="FO4ZJ3Dmxjw" height="315" width="560"

[|A Fit of Rhyme Against Rhyme:]
media type="file" key="Ben Johnson.wav" width="300" height="50" Rhyme, the rack of finest wits, That expresseth but by fits True conceit, Spoiling senses of their treasure, Cozening judgment with a measure, But false weight ; Wresting words from their true calling, Propping verse for fear of falling To the ground ; Jointing syllabes, drowning letters, Fast'ning vowels as with fetters They were bound ! Soon as lazy thou wert known, All good poetry hence was flown, And are banished. For a thousand years together All Parnassus' green did wither, And wit vanished. Pegasus did fly away, At the wells no Muse did stay, But bewailed So to see the fountain dry, And Apollo's music die, All light failed ! Starveling rhymes did fill the stage ; Not a poet in an age Worth crowning ; Not a work deserving bays, Not a line deserving praise, Pallas frowning ; Greek was free from rhyme's infection, Happy Greek by this protection Was not spoiled. Whilst the Latin, queen of tongues, Is not yet free from rhyme's wrongs, But rests foiled. Scarce the hill again doth flourish, Scarce the world a wit doth nourish To restore Phoebus to his crown again, And the Muses to their brain, As before. Vulgar languages that want Words and sweetness, and be scant Of true measure, Tyrant rhyme hath so abusëd, That they long since have refusëd Other cæsure. He that first invented thee, May his joints tormented be, Cramped forever. Still may syllabes jar with time, Still may reason war with rhyme, Resting never. May his sense when it would meet The cold tumor in his feet, Grow unsounder ; And his title be long fool, That in rearing such a school Was the founder.

Below is a list of Ben Johnson's representative works:

http://www.luminarium.org/renlit/ralebib.htm

A link to the Alchemist is listed below:

http://www.gutenberg.org/catalog/world/readfile?fk_files=1454569