Ben Jonson, the author of this play, was born in London, in the year 1574, just a month after the death of his father.

The father had been a clergyman, and the son received his education at Westminster School:² but the mother having married a second time, and having condescended to bestow her hand upon a bricklayer, poor Benjamin, on quitting school, was compelled by his father-in-law to work at that business.³

He escaped from this dull and laborious employment, by enlisting for a soldier; and being sent to the Netherlands, distinguished himself by remarkable courage in his military capacity.⁴

Literature was, however, the pursuit of his inclination: for, on his return to England, he entered himself at St. John's College, Cambridge; from whence he removed, after some years of strict application, for want of the means to support himself longer as a student.⁵

He now applied to that profession for a maintenance, which poverty, united to literary taste, directs thousands to pursue—the stage. The learned Ben Jonson became a strolling player, in an obscure b 2[Page 4]company of comedians, who performed occasionally at the sign of the Curtain in Shoreditch.⁶ Soon after, he had the good fortune to be a member of the same theatrical community with Shakspeare, and received Shakspeare's advice and assistance in commencing dramatic writer.⁷

Tradition says—and Davies, in his Miscellanies, confirms its probability—that Ben Jonson, having written this comedy of "Every Man in his Humour," presented it to one of the managers of that theatre, where Shakspeare was engaged as an actor. The manager, after casting his eye carelessly over the work, was on the point of returning it with a peremptory refusal, when Shakspeare, who chanced to be present, requested leave to read the play: he was so well pleased on the perusal, that he recommended it with such force, as induced the manager to change the opinion he had formed in its disfavour, and to bring it on the stage.⁸

Its success was very great. Shakspeare not only patronized, but performed in this comedy; but here his talents were subordinate, and he was, of course, less useful than as a commentator before its representation. It is supposed he acted the part of Kno'well,⁹ by his name being first in the Dramatis Personæ of the original copy. Shakspeare was at that time in his thirty-fourth, and Jonson in his twenty-fourth year.

Notwithstanding the merit of this play, it was wholly neglected as a stage exhibition, from the time of its revival, at the Restoration, till Garrick, in [Page 5]1749, brought it once more before the public, with some few alterations.¹⁰

Garrick's Kitely, and Woodward's Bobadil,¹¹ are described by the frequenters of the theatre of that period, as performances of the most exquisite art.

From Garrick's death till Cooke appeared, the play was again neglected; for without peculiar excellence in the representation of Kitely, it has but little attraction. Cooke has the praise of having given it all its former power over the town, and to have fully supplied the vacant post of Garrick.¹²

Including tragedies, comedies, operas, masques, et cetera, printed and unprinted, Ben Jonson produced no less than fifty-three dramas; not one of which, excepting the present comedy, holds its place among acting plays.¹³

High as this author ranks as a classic, it is a subject of wonder that the wits and men of taste, those idolators of the drama in Charles the Second's reign, should prefer him before Shakspeare! This mystery is resolved by some persons, on the supposition of the ascendancy of the Duke of Buckingham's sentiments upon questions of this nature, over those of the other courtiers; and his Grace, from early years, had been an enthusiastic admirer of Jonson. At the age of thirteen he was personally acquainted with him; at which time Ben was in his grand climacteric.¹⁴

In comparing this author with his contemporary Shakspeare, as men, the last has a superiority over the former in the benevolence, as well as the capa-b 3[Page 6]ciousness, of his mind. He was generous and kind to Jonson, whilst Jonson, incited, it is supposed, by envy, did not forbear to ridicule the works of his friend and benefactor.¹⁵ Here, at least, Jonson showed the talent of sound judgment, and the virtue of humility; for had he conceived his own productions the best, all discontent at his neighbour's perfection had been annihilated:—and while Shakspeare bore without retort his depreciating insinuations, it is possible, he was withheld by the pride of preeminence, more than by the moral force of patience. As players, there seems to have been no contention between these friends, for superiority—they were both too unskilful in this, their other, art to inspire either with emulation.

On the accession of James the First to the throne, Jonson was appointed to the management of all the masques and public spectacles; and he continued in this office during that and the succeeding reign.

In 1615, he was made poet laureate; and had so much interest at court as to procure a rise in the salary from a hundred marks (13s. 4d.)to a hundred pounds a year, with the comfortable addition of a butt of Canary wine.¹⁶

Notwithstanding this pension, and the profits arising from his various productions, he had not the economy to live independent. He was often so reduced in his finances, as to be compelled to inhabit lodgings in a wretched alley, where the bounty of his sovereign, as well as that of his fellow subjects, has often followed him to administer relief.¹⁷

In this wretched termination of his life, he sunk once more beneath his great rival Shakspeare; for Shakspeare retired, long previous to his death, to the comforts of leisure and independence; nor ever made drafts on the compassion of mankind for the pleasures of existence.¹⁸

Ben Jonson died in 1637, was buried in Westminster Abbey; and his gravestone has merely the following words, to denote the extraordinary gifts, of which he had been possessed. O Rare Ben Jonson!¹⁹ space between stanzas