Ben Jonson wrote, "I loved the man and do honour his memory, on this side idolatry, as much as any. He was indeed honest, and of an open and free nature." Shakespeare, in accordance with Greek and Roman wisdom, had chosen the _fallentis semita vitæ_; in his private course he was studiously obscure. His all-embracing and unparalleled genius was exhibited only in his art, and in his profession by which he lived and prospered. He had carried blank verse from the point at which Marlowe left it to a never equalled pitch of various perfection; while his lyrics are worthy of "all the angels singing out of heaven". His creations of character are in number, variety, and excellence, unrivalled; he touched with the surest hand every chord in the human heart; he explored every height and depth, and despite the inevitable stains left by his age, and the haste necessitated by his profession, his work attains the high-water mark of human genius. Jonson. Ben Jonson (born 1572-73) is believed to have been descended from the Annandale border clan of the Johnstones. His father, after suffering troubles under Mary Tudor, became a Protestant preacher. Ben was a posthumous child, his mothers second husband was a bricklayer or builder. The boy was educated at Westminster school, under Camden, the antiquarian and historian, to whom he more than once expressed his gratitude. His name as an undergraduate is not found in the records of either Oxford or Cambridge. Jonson did not long practise his stepfather's useful art: he served through a campaign in Flanders, and told Drummond of Hawthornden that he slew, in single combat, a champion of the enemy. He had more than a literary acquaintance with the fencing terms which his Captain Bobadil uses with so much gusto. Returning to England he fell among actors and playwrights, is mentioned as a tragedian by Meres ("Palladis Tamia") in 1598, was challenged by an actor, Gabriel Spencer, whom he slew in fair fight; was imprisoned; turned Catholic, not for long; and, on his release, married. By 1596 he had worked with very minor playwrights at forgotten plays, and had tinkered at "The Spanish Tragedy ". He now wrote "Every Man in His Humour," an early form of the play, which he revised; removing the scene from Florence to London, for its repetition in 1598, when Shakespeare's company were the players. In the Prologue he ridiculed, as Sidney had done, the reckless early dramas, in which the hero lives a long life on the stage, while "three rusty swords" furnish forth a stage army, and squibs and stage thunder delight the audience. He aims at good-humoured comedy of everyday life, laughs at "such errors as you'll all confess," and in Master Stephen draws a shadowy Shallow, a predecessor of Bob Acres, while that stock-figure, the poltroon bragging copper-Captain Bobadil, survives in loving memory as an excellent study in a familiar "character-part," the "Miles Gloriosus," of the Roman comedian.